《Misadventures Incorporated》


 Volume 1 Art Gallery

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    Claire, soon after she first arrives in Llystletein.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    *Major Spoiler* Claire, as of chapter 62


    Also features Sylvia and Geoff.


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 Chapter 1 - A Mossy Awakening

    Chapter 1 - A Mossy Awakening


    Claire shuddered as she slowly raised herself from the mossy, unfamiliar bedrock. She turned her eyes to her chest the moment they shot open. Through the dim, crystalline light in her cave-like surroundings, she was able to make out a garment stained with blood.


    Her blood.


    The slit exposing her solar plexus had done little to prevent her vital fluids from spilling all over the ceremonial dress. Staring harder at the opening allowed her to make out the lack of a wound. The hole in her chest had closed without a trace. Still, it continued to ache, plaguing her with a phantom pain, a constant reminder of the ritual she had narrowly escaped.


    Her hands were trembling even now. She had succeeded in saving herself. And as far as she was concerned, the score was now Claire - 1, Daddy Issues - 0. Not that she had daddy issues, of course.


    Excitedly, she raised her head and brushed her bloodied arctic blue bangs aside to gaze upon the infinite expanse that awaited her, the Lost Library of Llystletein, the ancient archive that contained all the knowledge she required to overthrow the tyrant that had ordered her dead.


    But it was nowhere in sight.


    There was no grand cathedral, no divine gate, nor even a single bookshelf anywhere to be seen. Nothing. Nothing but a long corridor of flattened mossy rocks. The dim blue lights that she had immediately associated with an artificer¡¯s devices came instead from the occasional bare stalagmite.


    Confusion was the first sentiment to follow the realization, accompanied soon after by an abrupt wave of anxiety. Her breathing sped up as panic took hold of her and brought her to the verge of hyperventilation. She wasn¡¯t able to calm down until she realized that she wasn¡¯t without any information. Her log was sure to contain everything she needed to know, as it always had. The blueblood wasn¡¯t quite sure how she had managed to forget something so obvious, even if its presence had started to seem a bit odd following his awakening.


    Through a moment of concentration, she summoned a translucent text box, one pixelated enough to remind her of the world her most recent dreams had featured.


    Log Entry 473


    You have succeeded in overwriting the Blueblooded Martyr¡¯s Ritual with the Rite of the Lost Library by sacrificing 75% of your health.


    ¡°Yes, I do know I¡¯m a wrist-slitting genius. Thank you, mystical blue box of knowledge.¡±


    Log Entry 474


    You have succeeded in completing the Rite of the Lost Library. As a result of being affected by the Lost Library¡¯s Magic, your non-racial classes have been purged, and any unclassed skills pertaining to magic or combat have been removed. All previously unlocked classes are forever lost.


    ¡°Oh, great. Now I¡¯m even more useless in a fight. Not that it really matters.¡±


    Log Entry 475


    You have entered the dungeon known as The Ruins of Llystletein, in which the Lost Library lies. The monsters that lurk within this dungeon far outclass you.


    This must be what I get for not keeping my mouth shut, she thought with a groan.


    Most of it had been expected. She knew that she would have to sacrifice her levels and skills to reach the Lost Library. That was why most shied away from accessing the mythical database, even in spite of the claim that acquiring its knowledge could lead to a celestial ascension. Starting from scratch meant throwing away all previous efforts, and that was something few were willing to do.


    Even more daunting was the survival rate. There were only a small handful of returnees. The only one that was publicly known, an officer in service to the empire, refused to speak of his experience. Some decried him a selfish wretch, unwilling to share the secret behind his rise to power. Others made the assumption he was under a vow of silence, for many an ancient text described the library¡¯s knowledge as equal parts sacred and forbidden. Whatever the case, two things were clear. The library was dangerous and escaping it was nearly impossible. Career soldiers and deathrow prisoners aside, only the dumb and desperate ever attempted to sieze its power for themselves. And while the applicability of the former was up to debate, Claire was most certainly the latter. The tiny chance at survival¡ªand vengeance¡ªwas far better than the fate to which the ex-ritual mage had otherwise been consigned.


    Shaking her head clear of the gloomy thoughts that plagued it, Claire sat back down and pulled up her status to confirm the log¡¯s four hundred and seventy fourth entry.


    Claire Augustus


    Health: 22/86


    Mana: 162/542


    Health Regen: 9/hour


    Mana Regen: 316/hour


    Ability Scores - 0 Points Available


    - Agility: 14


    - Dexterity: 5


    - Spirit: 57


    - Strength: 7


    - Vitality: 9


    - Wisdom: 158


    Racial Class: Halfbreed - Level 9.34


    - No affiliated skills


    Primary Class: None


    - 0 Classes Available


    Unclassed Skills


    - Dancing - Level 5.24


    - English - Level 25


    - Marish - Level 18.96


    - Sneaking - Level 2.60


    Her class was gone¡ªnot that it would have helped much to begin with. Ritual magic required strict procedures and came with a number of costs. It wasn¡¯t well suited to combat and would not have been able to aid her in a fight. Still, she would have preferred to keep it. Something was better than nothing, after all, even if that something often involved drawing a pentagram, lighting a few candles, and staring into the eyes of a dead goat for an hour. Or three. Or seven.


    What hurt her more was the inability to acquire any class that she had previously qualified for. That too had been expected, of course, but the Sword Dancer class she had recently unlocked could have aided her greatly in her newfound plight. That wasn¡¯t the only thing she lost either. Being born into nobility had provided her with the sort of upbringing that allowed her to unlock all sorts of different classes. Warrior, Fire Mage, Druid, and many others were all gone forever.


    Claire sighed. She almost wanted to sit around and mope, but quickly decided against it. She had to move. There was no time to play the part of a drama queen and theatrically wallow in her own misfortune. She was still going to do that later, of course, but not now.


    Despite her initial impressions, she wasn¡¯t particularly shocked. There had to have been a reason that so few ever returned from the library, and its containment within a dungeon was one of the more likely possibilities she had deduced. But that wasn¡¯t to say she was prepared; she had expected the trouble to begin only after she had accessed the bard-sung records. In other words, it was totally the bards¡¯ fault for not vetting their sources. Totally.


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    Looking towards her feet, she found that a pair of items had accompanied her on her journey. The first was an extinguished wax candle placed atop a tapered dish. Next to it was the handle of a broken ceremonial dagger, its once bejeweled blade nowhere to be found. She didn¡¯t feel that either item would be of much use, but her inner hoarder drove her to bring them along, just in case. The blueblood had a hunch that one of them was somehow going to save her butt. And that it probably wasn¡¯t going to be the broken dagger.


    The thin dress she wore was one intended for ceremonies and ceremonies alone. It lacked the pockets that a more practical garment would have featured, so the escaped sacrifice was stuck with one of her two belongings in each hand. She scanned her surroundings one last time, and after noting that nothing else was present, got to her feet.


    ¡°Which way do I go?¡± She spoke to herself, quietly, of course. She had every intention of staying off the radar until she knew more about the dungeon¡¯s monsters.


    Hearing the anxiety in her own voice worsened her fear, which in turn led her to think more negative thoughts. But before the cycle could get too far out of control, she managed to once again shake her head clear of the worst of her concerns and at least somewhat regain control.


    There were only two directions to take, but she still found it a hard choice to make. She found herself stuck in place for a few seconds, unfreezing only when a sudden thought came to mind and informed her that the best way to decide between two unknowns was to flip a coin, but she quickly dismissed it as silly and even took a moment to question her own sanity. Coins didn¡¯t have heads or tails, nor did she have any money on her to begin with.


    That however was not to say that the random thought lacked any rhyme or reason. Leaving the decision up to Lady Luck was by no means worse a choice than the opposite.


    Seeing no reason to change her mind, Claire used her feet to clear the moss off of a relatively flat rock and played a quick game of Spin the Candle. Left it is.


    ___


    After a few minutes of wandering under the guidance of her newfound waxen deity, Claire began to make out a series of faint, faraway sounds.


    ¡°Do I investigate?¡±


    She froze in place as she whispered the question to herself. On one hand, checking on the source of the commotion would allow her to learn more about the monsters in the area. And on the other, it would be risky.


    While she did have Sneaking, she wasn¡¯t stupid enough to think she could use a low-leveled skill to escape a high-leveled monster in what was most likely its own territory. If it noticed her.


    ¡°Oh, why the heck not? I¡¯ve already warped myself into what might as well be a death trap. A little more danger isn¡¯t going to hurt.¡±


    Her decision made, she quietly moved towards what was obviously a violent exchange. The crushing of stone, feral roars, and obnoxiously loud squeaks made up most of what she was hearing. And as she reached the end of the corridor, she even started to make out the fluttering of wings and the whooshing of magical projectiles.


    The girl¡¯s heart accelerated as she inched closer and closer to the corner. It was loud, loud enough for her to worry that it would cause her foes to spot her, but she pressed on and peeked out regardless. Another corridor continued following the bend, but not for long. After roughly ten meters, it opened up into a large bright cavern. The glowing inscriptions embedded into one of the walls grabbed her attention, but only for a moment before their light drew her gaze to the monsters fighting within. I¡¯ll have to check those later.


    There were three, two of one species, and one of another.


    The flying creatures were bizarre, to say the least. Each had four small limbs and two velvety wings attached to an egg-shaped body, the vast majority of which was occupied by a single massive eye the width of Claire¡¯s torso. She recognized them, eggeyes, creatures frequently described in the stories her mother used to read to her. Before she passed away.


    Squaring off against the two flying ovoids was another relatively well known monster, a hulking, spiny behemoth whose body was covered in warts. Its unhinged jaw contained three distinct layers of pointed teeth, the most prominent of which were two massive fangs extending from its lower mandible. They were so long that they shot up above its round, widened snout. Though most other boar-like creatures were quadrupedal, this one was not. Its forward-leaning, two-legged posture was only emphasized by the sharp, bony quills that protruded from its spine. A hellhog.


    Claire immediately jerked her head back around the corner. Her heart was pounding. She desperately wanted to run for dear life, but something about that felt wrong. Running would do nothing for her. The glowing cavern was, so far, the closest thing she had found to a clue. There was a chance that inspecting it could provide her with a hint as to the lost library¡¯s whereabouts. Moreover, her log had mentioned that the monsters residing in the ruins were far more powerful than she was, meaning she was likely to encounter another equally powerful creature before long regardless of whether she stayed. If I¡¯m lucky, they might leave after they stop fighting.


    With a nervous gulp, she once again peeked around the corner.


    The eggeyes seemed to have the advantage at first glance. Their wings allowed them to avoid the hellhog by darting through the air each time it approached. They countered its attacks with their own, pelting their victim with wave after wave of gloopy purple projectiles. Each time they struck, the bipedal pig would cry in pain as its flesh melted away. It was horribly injured all over, but worst off was one of its arms. The elbow was mostly eroded, bone already exposed on almost every side.


    Despite looking like flying eggs, the bat-winged creatures proved rather intelligent. They focused their attacks on the already damaged limb, slowly but surely erasing the bits of flesh that remained. Once the entire forearm had been converted to bone, one winged creature dove in and tore it off with a tackle. Though its rush succeeded, the floating eyeball¡¯s greed spelled its demise.


    Its opponent¡¯s less damaged arm shot forward like a lightning bolt, snatching it out the air immediately after the impact. The bat-like creature tried to struggle, but it was unable to escape the hog¡¯s grip. It was taken, against its will, and crammed between the ground-dweller¡¯s jaws.


    One sickening crunch later, the first eggeye was no more.


    Its partner didn¡¯t care. The second eggbat didn¡¯t even flinch at the death of its companion. It did, however, use the resulting opening to double down on its assault. It flew right above the hellhog¡¯s head and vomited a glob of toxic goo much murkier than any other. The extra potent acid melted right through the swine¡¯s head, ate one of its eyes, half destroyed its snout, and exposed its skull.


    But even that wasn¡¯t enough to fell the beast.


    The bony spines adorning the hog¡¯s back flew out of their sockets and pierced the bat through before it could loose another barrage.


    They were like harpoons, tiny terrifying harpoons. Once the tips pierced the ovular creature¡¯s flesh, they expanded and locked themselves in place. When the hellhog reeled its bones back into its body, the eggeye naturally followed. Even with its frame pierced through in multiple places, the chiropteran struggled. It desperately flapped its wings and attempted to propel itself away from the landbound creature. But to no avail. Like its partner, it soon found itself grabbed and consumed.


    Victory was declared in an almost humanlike manner. The bipedal pig raised its arm and roared at the top of its lungs in celebration of its hard-earned win.


    Claire kept an eye on the beast as it calmed down, slouched over, and began to retreat. Its steps were unsteady, each accompanied by a spillage of blood from its many open wounds. Its right arm was missing, and the same leg clearly lame. The sizzling of flesh could be heard as a misty vapour drifted off its skull.


    She knew it outclassed her in every way. Strength, speed, stamina, she had none of what the creature had demonstrated.


    But it was close to death.


    The experience points were right there in front of her, free for the taking, a boon even better than the opportunity to examine the well-lit cavern.


    If she didn¡¯t take it, something else would.


    It would take too long for the hellhog to regenerate to the point where it was capable of combat.


    Her hands trembled.


    Her whole body shook.


    And her mind continued to scream that she needed to turn back.


    But she didn¡¯t.


    With careful, quiet steps, she rounded the corner and began the hunt.

 Chapter 2 - A Mossy Awakening II

    Chapter 2 - A Mossy Awakening II


    Crippled by its injuries, the hellhog moved at an excruciatingly slow pace. Each step it took covered only the slightest bit of ground. Hesitation slowed it even further. The spiny creature seemed unwilling to take too many steps at a time. It took the beast several minutes to finally make its way out through a tunnel on the other side of the illuminated cavern.


    Claire far outpaced it. Even while doing her best to stay absolutely silent as she crept from rock to rock and cover to cover, she found herself with an excess of downtime, during which she simply had to sit still because she was too hot on its heels. She didn¡¯t quite like the idea of letting herself idle, so she looked for something to occupy her in the meantime.


    The first idea she settled on considering was her approach. Her mind cycled through a wide variety of options, methods she could use to take the monster down. Of all the possibilities she considered, only three stood out as viable, all of which involved first waiting for the creature to stop and rest. She wasn¡¯t confident in taking it head on, even if it was in desperate need of a wheelchair.


    Her first plan was to destroy its remaining eye with the dagger hilt she had on hand. Though there wasn¡¯t any blade left, the guard was hooked and could be used for gouging. Once it was blinded, she could repeatedly attack its throat until she brought about its demise. There was one major flaw with the concept, namely, her ability to finish the creature off. She doubted that her damage output was even remotely close to high enough given her lack of both might and magic. Even when strengthened with various spells and enchantments, most mages abstained from close quarters combat. And though Claire was one no longer, her stat spread was still identical to that of any other pure caster¡ªcompletely and utterly devoid of anything that even remotely resembled strength.


    Option number two involved leveraging the wounds that the egg-shaped bats had inflicted. Its exposed spine was vulnerable and she felt that, even with her lack of strength, it was possible for her to smash the creature¡¯s skull if she were to use a large stone. There were, of course, problems with this proposition. She didn¡¯t know how hard the hog¡¯s bones were. Nor did she know for certain if literally crushing its mind would be enough to end it. If it did manage to survive, then it would surely lash out and crush her in a single strike.


    Finally, the third and seemingly most viable option was to gather up some of the acid used by the eggeyes and dump it onto the creature¡¯s head. The viscous fluid didn¡¯t seem to be able to melt bone, but it was more than powerful enough to eat through flesh. Claire suspected that pouring it into the now-emptied eye socket would most likely spell her foe¡¯s demise. Like the others, this final approach also came with its own set of assumptions and requirements, but none were as outlandish as those involved in her other ploys. All that Claire needed was for her candle holder not to melt and for it to hold enough of the fluid to deliver a fatal blow.


    After she was sure the creature was far enough from the glowing cave to not notice her, Claire stepped inside and made her way over to the skeletal arm that had been torn from its owner. She examined the bone, squeezing it and trying to tear it apart to no avail. It was tough, so tough that she immediately gave up on her second option. Tearing the creature¡¯s body apart was clearly a pipe dream, even with a large rock. Likewise, she also began questioning her ability to cut her way through its throat, but knowing that its flesh was less durable, she refrained from dismissing the possibility outright.


    Setting the arm back down, she first took a quick glance at the inscriptions on the wall and confirmed that they were runes. She vaguely recognized some of them, but the passage¡¯s meaning remained unknown to her. Claire brushed the notion of inspecting it in more detail aside, at least for the time being, and approached the darkest pool of acid. Once she reached it, the halfbreed dipped the metal candle holder inside.


    Please don¡¯t melt.


    Much to her surprise, her plan worked. The dish quickly filled with the dark viscous liquid.


    I bet the only reason nothing went wrong this time is because I only said it in my head.


    Claire pulled it back out as soon as it reached about three quarters fullness. She wouldn¡¯t have been able to keep it steady enough to prevent spillage if it contained anything more, and she wasn¡¯t exactly keen on the concept of accidentally burning herself to death. Granted, tripping likely would have spelt an untimely end either way, as the resulting noise would surely have attracted her prey¡¯s attention.


    I¡¯m not sure what¡¯s worse, dying because I accidentally melt my own face off, or getting eaten by an ugly pig.


    With her poison procured, she once again began tailing the near-dead hog.


    ___


    It took a full hour for the boar to finally return to the alcove that was its nest. Claire suspected that the distance could easily be covered in five minutes under normal circumstances, but the hog¡¯s limp had slowed its pace to a crawl.


    The halfbreed knew little about the frequency with which monsters appeared in dungeons, but she felt that the lack of another opportunist was a stroke of good fortune either way. The scent of blood seeping from the pig-creature¡¯s wounds was so pungent that she could track it even without keeping an eye on it.


    Is that a tent?


    Peeking into the creature¡¯s home provided Claire with a surprising sight. There were clear traces of a pit meant for a fireplace as well as a tent, a wooden chair, and a sleeping bag clearly not large enough for the three meter tall pig-beast. If not for the human-like skeleton laying in the corner, Claire would have begun to think of the creature as some sort of intelligent being. Not that such a fact would have had any sway in her decision to end it.


    The humanoid bones were by no means the only set present. The entire backside of the recess was filled with bare skeletal remains, none with flesh still dangling from them. Claire wasn¡¯t capable of identifying all the different creatures present within the pile and the haphazard manner in which they were strewn about didn¡¯t help, but she was at least able to make out several different types of skulls.


    A bloody mess was added to the collection as the hellhog walked over and regurgitated whatever was left of the creatures she had watched it fight. Seeing it puke made her want to do the same, but by placing her candle dish down and using the freed hand to pinch her nostrils, she was narrowly able to stop herself.


    The beast¡¯s next set of actions only made it even more difficult for her to refrain from violently gagging. It started picking away at the pieces of the flesh it had vomited before shoving anything deboned back down its gullet.


    Clarie had no desire to watch or even listen to it, but leaving felt like a mistake, so she instead directed her eyes behind the hellhog and took a second, closer look at its skeletal collection. Specifically, she searched for any bones even vaguely resembling weapons. Unsurprisingly, they were far from scarce. There were pointy ribs, sharp horns, and fangs identical to the beast¡¯s. While some of them were buried too deep, others sat isolated from the pile and could easily be retrieved. Far better than a broken dagger.


    There seemed to be a few things inside the tent as well, but there was no way for her to get a better view of its contents without being spotted, so she refrained.


    After a few minutes of gorging itself, the beast finally settled down and curled itself up, seemingly satisfied with its meal. Still, sleep didn¡¯t come immediately. It spent another half hour grooming itself, tending to its wounds with a long, thick tongue. Only when it was finally done did it close its eye and allow its breathing to slow.


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    Now¡¯s my chance. Claire took a moment to steady her nerves.


    One way or another, she managed to convince herself she was just euthanizing a cripple as opposed to facing a fearsome monster. And while that thought didn¡¯t exactly do any wonders for her conscience, it did allow her to finally stop shaking. She tip-toed out from behind a boulder, approached the pile of bones next to her parapalegic target, and grabbed two of the fang-like structures she had deemed the most easily accessible, just in case things went wrong.


    And go wrong they did.


    Her ankle brushed up against a skull as she attempted to bring the fangs back to her previous hiding spot. The force rippled throughout the pile, causing bones of all shapes and sizes to rattle. Her target began to perk up. It had been alerted of her presence.


    She messed up. Badly. There was no salvaging the idea she had suddenly come up with, coating her newfound weapons in a layer of acid, but she wasn¡¯t doomed just yet. The creature was only starting to awaken.


    The halfbreed had only a split second to choose between fleeing and pressing the attack. The outcome of the former was effectively guaranteed. There was no way for the heavily damaged creature to outrun her, and there were plenty of opportunities for her to return. But something about that choice annoyed her. It annoyed her so much, in fact, that she instantly chose the alternative without even considering the ramifications.


    One knife-like fang was driven straight into the hog¡¯s remaining eye, and the other its throat.


    Leaving both weapons where they were, she landed in front of it and shot towards the creature¡¯s armless side to evade retaliation.


    Another mistake.


    Dodging away from an attack was only a feasible choice in the case that the evader was swift enough to outrun the incoming strike. And swift Claire was not. Nor was she even truly under attack just yet, but that was besides the point.


    The blow she took was no real strike, but rather, a mere byproduct of the monster recoiling in pain. Its arm brushed up against her gut when it raised it, sending her tumbling through the air.


    Claire wanted to scream in pain. The agony assaulting her system was almost too much to bear, but she desperately held it back as she crashed into the ground. Making noise was the one thing she didn¡¯t dare do. She couldn¡¯t afford to give her location away to the blinded beast. A quick glance at her status informed her that she had only three points of health remaining, even after regenerating fifteen over the course of the hour and a half she¡¯d stalked it. It terrified her to know that the blow would have killed her had the two clashed any earlier, but she pressed on nonetheless.


    Her teeth clenched and whole body trembling, she crawled back towards her acid-filled candle holder. She grabbed the first bone she found along the way in one hand and the broken dagger she¡¯d set down in the other. There was no time to look for anything with a particular trait, not unless she was willing to forgo an opportunity to attack. The lack of offensive potential was compensated for by slathering both makeshift weapons in a layer of thick, purple goop.


    Once re-armed, she forced herself to her feet and circled back around her target. She remained behind it while it flailed its arm around at random, breaking pieces off the stone walls and smashing both stalactites and stalagmites alike as it attempted to locate its assailant.


    Only after feeling a burning pain in the back of its sole functional knee did it finally realize where she was. It swept at her rough location, but this time, it hit nothing.


    She danced between its legs and launched another attack. The hellhog being twice her height prevented her from reaching any vitals, but she managed to deal significant damage regardless by driving her acid-laced dagger hilt straight into the creature¡¯s groin. The purple fluid destroyed its gonads, ensuring that it would never reproduce even if it managed to survive the encounter.


    Again, the hellhog loosed a feral scream. But as terrifying as the roar seemed, it only encouraged her. She grabbed a fang off the ground, the one the creature had torn out of its eye socket, and jammed it into its thigh. Once it was as deep as she could get it, she grabbed the protruding ivory with both hands and pulled downwards with all her might.


    Blood streamed down her arms, leaking from the wound as would a crimson cascade. When the pig beast finally fell to its knees, she forced the makeshift weapon into its armpit, tearing at the muscles it was using to flail its only functional limb. It was an action Claire equated to putting the creature in check. But even though she felt as if she had all the momentum in the world, victory continued to elude her.


    The arm she thought she had disabled lashed out the moment she withdrew her fanged blade. The monster grabbed her, wrapping its thick muscular fingers around the maiden¡¯s shoulders, and holding her arms tight to her chest. Breaking free was impossible. Its grip was too powerful.


    She was taken to its face, where its maw awaited with all three sets of sharpened teeth ready to consume her, the very same teeth that had so easily ended both the foes she had watched it defeat.


    The tables turned. Now, she was the one that desperately flailed as her opponent took control of the situation. Fortunately, the creature¡¯s blindness led it to misunderstand the nature of her form. She was able to kick it in the nose, inflicting just enough pain to force it to reel back. Its grip loosened for the briefest moments. An opening she failed to miss.


    Slipping out of its grasp, she jabbed the sharpened enamel into one side of its neck and her broken dagger¡¯s guard into the other. The bits of acid still covering its contours allowed her to eat through the creature¡¯s flesh. But not even that was enough. She realized, after seeing it fail to fall, that it was going to take much more than a few cuts and burns to drain the remainder of its health, so she ducked to evade another grab and momentarily retreated. To return with her acid-laden dish in hand. It was only half full now, but she wasn¡¯t worried.


    She carefully maneuvered underneath its armless shoulder and pulled out the weapon she¡¯d driven into its neck. Her candle holder soon replaced it. The thick purple goop nearly spilled from the metal container as she jammed it inside the creature¡¯s throat, it¡¯s viscosity the only thing keeping it in the dish. As soon as the package was delivered, she flipped it upside down, dumping its contents into the hog¡¯s flesh.


    As the beast fell forward, she grabbed the closest thing she could, a chair, and bashed it against the back of the thing¡¯s head, over and over and over until the old, brittle wood buckled, driving splinters into the pig¡¯s exposed insides. Claire repeated the process, smashing the chair against her foe again and again until all four legs broke off, after which she crammed them down the hole in its neck, one after another.


    The beast struggled. It desperately tried to get her away from it, but it lacked both the energy and strength it once had. Its arm was unable to do anything but pitifully push itself against her each time it tried to knock her away. It grew more limp with each passing moment, more powerless, more vulnerable. And eventually, it succumbed, lifelessly collapsing beneath her with its throat jammed shut and its innards fully dissolved.


    Log Entry 476


    You have slain a level 47 hellhog.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 2 points of agility


    - 7 points of dexterity


    - 5 points of strength


    - 1 point of vitality


    ¡°I did it¡­¡± she muttered to herself quietly as she collapsed onto her rear. The additional reward was a welcome surprise. She knew that obtaining bonus points from combat was possible, but she had never experienced it for herself.


    Log Entry 477


    You have acquired the Tracking skill.


    Log Entry 478


    You have acquired the Makeshift Weapon Mastery skill.


    I didn¡¯t even know that skill existed. Oh well, now I¡¯ll be even better at hurting things with chairs!


    Log Entry 479


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Halfbreed, has reached level 10.


    You have gained 6 ability points.


    Log Entry 480


    You have unlocked the Rogue class.


    Looks like all that effort paid off after all.


    Log Entry 481


    You have unlocked the Barbarian class.


    Barbarian? How rude! I¡¯m a perfectly well mannered noble lady, thank you very much.


    Log Entry 482


    You have unlocked the Hunter class.


    Three? I was only expecting one. I guess today isn¡¯t as bad of a day as I thought after all. Thanks, box.


    Claire slumped over, her breathing still ragged and her heart still pounding with both fear and excitement. It wasn¡¯t her first kill¡ªher father and his guards had set many up for her before for the purposes of bolstering the efficacy of her ritual magic¡ªbut it was the first that she had earned.

 Chapter 3 - A Mossy Awakening III

    Chapter 3 - A Mossy Awakening III


    The first thing Claire did after slaying the beast was to go through the tent and see if there was anything usable. She wanted to select a class immediately, but held off because she had every intention of allowing the resources she had available to play a role in her choice.


    Unfortunately, there wasn¡¯t much. The bags within the tent had contained little of interest, featuring mainly old rags, sticks, rope, and stone. Both the old club and the wooden shield she¡¯d found lying around were damaged beyond the point of use or repair¡ªnot that she was familiar with either option in the first place. Only the sticks, the rope, and the bags are going to be useful. I might be able to somehow wear the rags like a cloak too, but I don¡¯t want to look like a beggar if I¡¯m not getting any stats out of it.


    She grabbed a stick, a sharp broken rib, and a piece of rope and began fashioning a weapon that somewhat resembled a dysfunctional spear as she finally started to go through her options and acquisitions in more detail.


    Tracking - Level 1


    Congratulations, you have proven yourself to be disgustingly proficient in the art of following someone around without their knowledge. This skill will make you better at silently stalking anything that you deem to prey, regardless of whether it is an animal, a monster, or a young, innocent child. Please reflect on your behaviour and at least try not to get arrested.


    Effects


    - The tracks left behind by others become more clear to you.


    - You are able to designate a creature as your target and track it if it is nearby.


    Why does this stupid box start insulting me every time I check for details?


    Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 1


    Apparently, you didn¡¯t get the memo when your combat instructor taught you that possessing a finely crafted weapon would serve as an advantage in a duel. While this skill won¡¯t be doing anything for your lack of intellect, it will aid your body in adapting to your brainless antics. And just for your information, destroying the chair was entirely unnecessary. You just wasted a perfectly good piece of furniture.


    Effects


    - You instinctively understand how to use miscellaneous objects as effective weapons.


    - Increases damage dealt by 11% (10% + 1% per level) when attacking with anything that isn¡¯t a real weapon.


    What do you mean using the chair was unnecessary!? It was totally necessary!


    Rogue


    Swift, silent, and disgustingly edgy, Rogues specialize in the quick elimination of isolated targets. Their techniques, dextrous and swift, make plentiful use of whatever resources are available, but they function best when equipped with a cloak and a dagger. If you want to be the neckbeard that sits in a corner and broods with a hood over your face while everyone else makes merry, then this class is for you.


    Becoming a Rogue provides an immediate bonus to dexterity. Every 5 Rogue levels will provide an additional bonus to your agility and dexterity scores.


    Possible class upgrades include Assassin, Nightblade, and Venomancer, amongst others.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Catch an enemy off guard


    - Slay an enemy through the use of a poison


    - Slay an enemy that you have attacked with a dagger or dagger-like weapon


    It¡¯s about what I expected. Do I even bother looking at the Barbarian class? I already know I¡¯m not going to pick it. After a moment of deliberation, she decided to at least skim over the class¡¯ details. It¡¯s not like there¡¯s any reason not to.


    Barbarian


    Barbarians are unmannered warriors that thrive on the thrill of the hunt. Many use axes and clubs to fulfill their goals. Others may occasionally break chairs for no particular reason. The barbarian way of life puts strength over intellect. Most barbarians focus on brute forcing their way through combat situations regardless of the risks or factors involved. Their abilities facilitate this behaviour by providing regeneration and numerous bonuses to strength and intimidation. Individuals with underdeveloped frontal cortices often find this class effective.


    Becoming a Barbarian provides a significant, one time bonus to strength at the cost of an equal amount of Wisdom. Wisdom is further decremented with each Barbarian level. No additional strength bonuses are awarded.


    Possible class upgrades include Berserker, Skullcrusher, and Barbarian Too, amongst others. Your overwhelming affinity for this class ensures that a unique class upgrade will be made available by the 50th class level.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Beat an enemy to death after it has lost its will to fight


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.- Vandalize someone else¡¯s property in the slaying of an enemy


    Why is the box so obsessed with the chair, and why does it seem to be trying to push this class on me!? I am a genuine high-class noble lady, not some filthy barbarian!


    Log Entry 483


    You have been disowned. ¡°Augustus¡± has been removed from your name.


    I was expecting my father to write me off sooner or later, but did it really have to happen right then? Claire groaned. Okay, fine, whatever. I¡¯m not a high-ranking noble lady anymore, but that still doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m a barbarian! And what the heck is up with Barbarian Too!? Why did I even read this!? Screw it! I¡¯m moving on.


    Hunter


    Specialized in ranged attacks, Hunters are lone wolves capable of pursuit and elimination. Their arrows are swift and deadly, second only to their ability to trace targets even through unfamiliar territory. This Ranger sub-class focuses primarily on dexterity and spirit, with many techniques revolving around the concept of enhancing one¡¯s senses. Hunters are capable of gaining bonuses by consuming their prey. Individuals with social anxiety tend to prefer this class.


    Every Hunter level provides a small bonus to dexterity. Every 10 Hunter levels provides a significant bonus to Spirit.


    Possible class upgrades include Trapper, Brushstalker, and Hawkeye, amongst others.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirement:


    - Stalk and kill a wounded target in its own domain


    I¡¯d pick this one if I had a bow.


    After spending a few moments deliberating, Claire picked Rogue. She had no intention of becoming a Barbarian, and while the Hunter class seemed fairly decent, she wasn¡¯t able to put it to immediate use.


    Log Entry 484


    You have become a Rogue.


    Your dexterity has been increased by 15.


    Rogue-related achievements have been unlocked.


    The following Rogue skills have been acquired:


    - Cloak and Dagger


    - Double Stab


    Only two skills? Didn¡¯t I get seven when I became a ritual mage?


    Cloak and Dagger - Level 1


    As an edgelord, you grow more powerful when you think you look cool, even if the impression is yours and yours alone. Unfortunately, your choice of outfit provides little benefit, but the people around you will actively avoid voicing their doubts. The thought of speaking to you invokes little but reluctance. Please do us both a favour and learn the meaning of shame.


    Effects


    - Your dexterity and agility are increased by 21% (20% + 1% per level).


    - You gain a bonus to all stealth-based abilities when hiding in a shadow.


    - These effects only apply when both a cloak and a dagger are equipped. If either piece of equipment is removed while you are engaging an enemy, then this bonus will remain until you exit combat.


    This would be nice if I had a cloak. If.


    Double Stab - Level 1


    Stabbing things is not exactly a good way to relieve stress, but apparently you disagree. Please stop thinking about taking your knives to school and go see a psychiatrist.


    Effects


    - Consume 15 mana to empower your next stabbing attack and transform it into a Phantom Strike.


    - Phantom Strikes target the health pool directly and are considered magical in nature.


    - Phantom Strikes deal additional damage equal to 27.5% (25% + 2.5% per level) of the damage dealt by the initial attack.


    This would be really expensive if my mage stats didn¡¯t carry over. It seems pretty useful, but there¡¯s no mention of a cooldown. Can I use it as much as I want?


    Claire was eager to test out her new skills¡¯ effects and determine their specific properties and interactions, but there was something else she first had to attend to, something she had recalled upon watching the hog consume its quarry. Sustenance. Like any other living creature, she needed both food and water to survive. And it had been several hours since she had either.


    Reluctantly, she shifted her gaze to one of the only sources of nutrients around, the creature that she had only just slain.


    Eating monster meat was, in and of itself, not an abnormal practice. In fact, many monsters were considered high class goods and some had even been domesticated to be used as livestock. Claire was an avid gourmet when it came to raptorbeaks, sucroswines, and steakhorns, with the last of the three serving as a key component of her favorite dish. But the hellhog was different, its flesh was stringy and too tough to be fit for human consumption. Or halfbreed consumption for that matter. Worse yet was the creature¡¯s rancid stench, a thousand times worse than the spoiled fish she had once found in the trash whilst roaming around the mansion.


    It was like the creature¡¯s flesh had already been predigested by something else. And that, in fact, was exactly what it was. The acid that much of the beast was covered with, which by the way was certainly not making it any more palatable, was something eggeyes magically secreted in order to digest their food prior to consuming it. She couldn¡¯t even begin to imagine stomaching the creature, not when the literal dump she had seen and smelt in her dreams somehow seemed more appetizing. Having a balanced diet is going to have to wait until I get out of here. Or find a more tasty-looking monster.


    Her mind made, the halfbreed grabbed a handful of moss and began her life anew as a cow.


    Claire


    Health: 92/92


    Mana: 546/546


    Health Regen: 10/hour


    Mana Regen: 316/hour


    Ability Scores - 6 Points Available


    - Agility: 16


    - Dexterity: 27


    - Spirit: 57


    - Strength: 12


    - Vitality: 10


    - Wisdom: 158


    Racial Class: Halfbreed - Level 10.67


    - No affiliated skills


    Primary Class: Rogue - Level 1.00


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 1.00


    - Double Stab - Level 1.00


    Unclassed Skills


    - Dancing - Level 5.24


    - English - Level 25


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 1.00


    - Marish - Level 18.96


    - Sneaking - Level 2.85


    - Tracking - Level 1.00

 Chapter 4 - A Mossy Awakening IV

    Chapter 4 - A Mossy Awakening IV


    Considering the circumstances, Claire felt that her mossy meal hadn¡¯t been all that subpar. Sure, she struggled to swallow at first, but only at first. The makeshift vegetable stopped trying to worm its way back up her windpipe once she realized that moving away from the rancid smelling corpse next to her would make her feel less inclined to puke. When free from any external, less-than-savoury influences, the moss was actually quite bland. The only truly unpalatable parts were the overly bitter roots, which the halfbreed promptly discarded. She wasn¡¯t particularly concerned with not having enough to eat. There wasn¡¯t exactly a shortage of stems or leaves; the entire cave was covered in a layer of green. Though it wasn¡¯t downright awful, the meal still wasn¡¯t exactly painless either. It didn¡¯t cause her any physical harm, at least not immediately, but the mental damage was done. Each bite filled her with more shame and self-loathing than it did nutrition.


    Once lunch¡ªor dinner, she wasn¡¯t sure which¡ªwas out of the way, Claire resumed working with the materials she had discovered. She wasn¡¯t exactly a seamstress, but as she was most certainly still a noble lady, she was more than familiar enough with sewing, embroidering, and other similar hobbies to make something useful out of the materials she had on hand. Sort of. Claire had almost always chosen to ignore the hobbies her caretakers encouraged in favour of running wild, so she was a lot less practiced than other girls her age.


    Still, she was good enough. Her thighs soon found themselves equipped with makeshift belts. She had wrapped several pieces of cloth around each and secured them with rope. The knot was tied loosely enough such that she was able to slip a small, sharpened bone between the rope and the outermost layer of cloth, but not so loose that the ¡°belt¡± would slip or fall off if said bone was missing. A leather pouch¡ªone of the smallest bags contained within the camp¡ªwas fastened to a third, similar belt around her waist. It was relatively empty for the time being, containing only the three items she started with and a spare bit of twine.


    She was also wearing a mantle around her neck. The less-than-optimal piece of equipment had been crafted out of the tent situated within the hellhog¡¯s lair. According to the Cloak and Dagger skill, it counted as a legitimate cloak, just like how some of the sharper, more jagged fangs somehow counted as both makeshift weapons and legitimate daggers.


    After grabbing her not-so-well-made spear off the floor and mounting it on her fourth belt, which ran from her right shoulder to the opposite hip like a bandolier, she set off.


    It only took her a few minutes to reach the illuminated cavern. She confirmed that the coast was clear, made a mental note of all three exits, and even double checked all her equipment before finally sneaking her way towards the runic pattern. Her eyes scanned her surroundings each time she took a step.


    Something seemed off. The acid that once covered the floor had vanished. Every single puddle and scorch mark was gone with the wind. The only reminder of their presence was the occasional blank, mossless patch of rock. It was strange, unsettling even, but not the sort of phenomenon that was out of place. Self-repair was a function dungeons were well known to have.


    Dismissing her concerns, the halfbreed looked towards one of the few naturally uncovered spots, the wall that featured the ancient text. She wasn¡¯t the most well-versed in the runic arts, but she did at least have a basic education on the different symbols and their meanings. Or at least she would have, had she paid her tutors any more attention. A few seconds of pointless staring later, Claire heaved a defeated sigh and began contemplating alternate timelines in which she had followed through on her studies.


    The problem was that, while she recognized some of the symbols, she didn¡¯t know what any of them really meant. The manner in which they were arranged didn¡¯t give her any clues either. All she learned from examining the structure was that the cryptic message contained some sort of list.


    With another sad sigh, she closed her eyes, leaned forward and pressed her forehead against the rock in a desperate attempt to recall the bits and pieces of knowledge that she had intentionally refrained from learning.


    ¡°I¡¯m such an idiot,¡± she groaned.


    ¡°You said it, not me.¡±


    Caught off guard by the sudden reply, the halfbreed leapt to her feet. As her eyes darted around and scanned her surroundings, she found herself surprised by an ever growing list of anomalies. She somehow hadn¡¯t fallen over, even though the wall she¡¯d entrusted much of her weight to had suddenly vanished. In fact, the illuminated cavern had been replaced in its entirety. Her environment now consisted of a series of halls sandwiched between countless infinitely tall bookshelves, each crammed to the brim with ancient tomes that had survived the test of time. Despite being a space meant for reading, it was oddly dim, depressing even, with only the occasional candle serving as a source of light.


    Sitting at the desk right in front of her was an old human male, his nose gnarled and his skin covered with wrinkles. Atop his head sat a big grey hat, one that likely was supposed to be tall and pointy, but for reasons beyond her comprehension, the headpiece seemed partially collapsed. It was scrunched up, covered in as many creases as the man, and stood at only half its original height. And yet, it somehow showed no external signs of wear or tear. The leather hadn¡¯t peeled, nor was it discoloured.


    ¡°Welcome to Llystletein.¡±


    His voice was deep enough to seem odd given his lanky, near malnourished frame. The fact that she could hear him was, in and of itself, bizarre. His words rang loud and clear even though it seemed like he was whispering. It was almost like his voice was infused with magic.


    The rogue wanted to learn more about the mechanism with which he spoke, but she stopped herself from thinking too deeply about it. His voice¡¯s mysterious quality was the last of her concerns. The fact that her arms were now ethereal was far more attention grabbing. Looking down in horror, she realized that the condition was affecting more than just her upper limbs. Her whole body had taken on a ghost-like quality, pale and translucent, as if she were a spectre or projection.


    ¡°Oh great, another one that¡¯s never even heard of force magic.¡± The wizard grumbled in annoyance. ¡°You¡¯re fine. Your body is still exactly where you left it and you aren''t a ghost.¡±


    ¡°Then wh-¡±


    ¡°The runes you touched brought your consciousness here.¡± Anticipating the question, he cut her off before she could say so much as a second word. ¡°It¡¯s a necessary procedure. The message they contain is extremely important, and you¡¯re not the first visitor incapable of reading them, nor will you be the last.¡±


    Claire was conflicted. On one hand, this was an opportunity to learn more about where she was and potentially investigate the hint she had come across. And on the other, it meant leaving her body unattended, a risk she was less than fond of.


    It wasn¡¯t like she could trust the man. The environment appeared to suggest that he was someone associated with the library she sought, but she knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving. There was no guarantee that he meant her no harm, even if he was one of the ancient athenium¡¯s staff. Still, he remained the only source of information she had found.


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    Weighing the costs and benefits over the course of a second or two led her to choose to humour her newfound conversation partner, at least for the time being.


    ¡°What do they say?¡± She narrowed her gaze, nearly obscuring the vertical slits that were her pupils. The dim light caused them to stand out regardless. Her bright blue irises almost seemed to glow in the dark.


    ¡°Right down to business I see.¡± His scowl transformed into a faint smile. ¡°Good, I like that in a person.¡±


    The wrinkled old human used an equally ancient wooden wand to tap one of the many pieces of parchment lying around on his desk. The yellow-brown sheepskin rose from the table and drifted its way towards her. She still couldn¡¯t read it, as it was in what seemed to be the same runic font as the inscriptions on the stone she¡¯d touched, but that wasn¡¯t a problem. Because she didn¡¯t need to.


    Log Entry 485


    You have read The Lost Library¡¯s First Chapter. It has been transcribed into your native language as the following log entry.


    Log Entry 486


    Welcome to Llystletein, trial goer, and congratulations on finding this instruction set. As you may have already surmised, you are now trapped within the dungeon¡¯s confines. The only way to escape is to reach the Grand Cathedral located within its deepest depths and seek out the Head Librarian.


    Comprehending the contents of this message will grant the following boons:


    - The Llystletein Authority skill.


    - Access to Llystletein Classes.


    - A brief audience with the Head Librarian.


    - A very thorough understanding of the Head Librarian¡¯s catgirl fetish.


    - The ability to forgo any penalties on subsequent visits to the library.


    Good luck!


    All sorts of information suddenly flooded Claire¡¯s mind. Large swaths of knowledge were magically ingrained within her memory, each accompanied by several highly detailed images of nude or scantily clad, cat-eared beastfolk. Why!?


    Log Entry 487


    You have acquired the Llystletein Authority skill.


    Claire hit the brakes on reading through her log in order to inspect the skill in more detail.


    Llystletein Authority - Level 1


    Power is often granted in equal parts to the deserving and the overwhelmingly stupid. And you, my dear friend, are certainly not deserving. That hasn¡¯t stopped you from somehow gaining a non-insignificant degree of authority over the systems that govern Llystletein dungeons. Well, at least now you¡¯ll probably stop eating diarrhea-inducing moss.


    Oh no.


    Effects


    - You may conjure sustenance at will within Lystletein Dungeons.


    - You gain a surface-level understanding of the Llystletein class system.


    - Additional effects will be granted upon reaching specific level thresholds.


    Did I really force myself to eat all that stupid moss for nothing!?


    Log Entry 488


    Achievement Unlocked - Llystletein Explorer


    You have acclimated to the magic that dwells within Llystletein¡¯s ancient runes. It is no longer impossible to obtain Llystletein class variants. The Rite of the Lost Library no longer removes any classes or skills.


    Log Entry 489


    Achievement Unlocked - Catgirl Enthusiast


    Exposure to a true man of culture has corrupted your mind and affected your tastes. You have become irrationally partial to catgirls.


    ¡°I have¡­ questions.¡±


    It took Claire everything she had to keep her game face on and stop herself from screaming at the supposed head librarian. She had many grievances to air.


    ¡°And I have all the answers.¡± The old man smirked. ¡°But you¡¯re only getting one.¡±


    ¡°I was only going to ask one.¡± The halfbreed crossed her arms. ¡°Was the catgirl curse really necessary?¡±


    ¡°Really? Of all the things you could possibly ask about, the library, the classes, the secrets, you chose that?¡±


    The old wizard threw himself back into his chair as his cackling boomed throughout the library¡¯s halls. He nearly split his sides howling hysterically and pounding at his armrests with teardrops forming at the corner of his eyes.


    ¡°You weren¡¯t going to give me any real answers anyway,¡± said the halfbreed.


    ¡°And what makes you say that?¡±


    ¡°The survival rate.¡±


    The librarian made a gesture with his hand to urge the girl to continue.


    ¡°Countless soldiers, adventurers, knights, and mercenaries have been sent here, most of them highly skilled. If you were in the business of giving useful information, then there¡¯d be more survivors.¡±


    ¡°And how do you know there aren''t?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± she admitted, ¡°but there¡¯s been an expedition every decade with no news of a success. Someone would¡¯ve said something by now if anything but a small handful of people ever managed to make it out in one piece.¡±


    ¡°Not a bad answer. I¡¯ve heard better, but it¡¯s not awful, considering your age.¡± The wizard leaned forward. ¡°That catgirl thing? First of all, it isn¡¯t a curse. It¡¯s a blessing.¡±


    ¡°I disagree. Half-naked catgirls started appearing in my head the moment I even tried to think about everything I just learned.¡±


    ¡°Why, that¡¯s the best part!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and I¡¯m a talking pig.¡± She rolled her eyes.


    ¡°You should be more careful about what you say. Offend the person, and it might just come true.¡±


    The librarian put his hands together and gave her a bit of a glare, but Claire shrugged it off without batting an eye.


    ¡°Nice try, but you¡¯re not scaring me that easily.¡±


    ¡°How did you know it was a bluff?¡± he asked with a disheartened pout. The man had been convinced that the literal child before his eyes would cave in the face of a little bit of aggression.


    ¡°I¡¯ve dealt with more than enough crafty old men in my time to know what to expect.¡±


    Worst of all had been her father. The old bastard took great pleasure in stringing her along and would often speak empty threats just to see if he could get her to panic. While she had despised his ¡°lessons,¡± they had undeniably ingrained within her the basis she needed for a life amongst politicians. And unlike the lessons taught by her tutors, her father¡¯s eccentric lectures actually stuck.


    ¡°In your time?¡± The wizard scoffed. ¡°You¡¯re what, twelve?¡±


    ¡°Sixteen, thank you very much,¡± she said between gritted teeth.


    ¡°Well, you don¡¯t look it. And another year or four doesn¡¯t make much of a difference anyway.¡±


    ¡°Can you answer the question already?¡± she said, impatiently.


    ¡°I already did,¡± complained the old man. ¡°I told you, it¡¯s a blessing. Now, you might not understand it just yet, but nothing beats having your very own personal catgirl. They¡¯re loyal, down to earth, and unrivaled in bed. Trust me, I could go on about them for decades on end.¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯ve already heard more than enough,¡± grumbled Claire.


    ¡°In that case, I¡¯ll send you right back,¡± said the librarian. ¡°Oh, and you might want to avoid going down the path opposite the runes.¡±


    ¡°Wh-¡±


    He didn¡¯t wait for her to finish before poofing her spirit back into her body, a task that, for him, was simple as taking a breath. Once all traces of her consciousness were gone, he leaned back into his chair and picked up a pipe.


    ¡°I wonder how long that one will last.¡±


    Tapping it with his wand to light it, he took a long, deep draft of the herbal blend packed within. But calming as it may have been, not even the addictive substance could quell his excitement. He was going to have plenty of fun with the dungeon¡¯s newest guest.


    ¡°I doubt the others will take kindly to her presence.¡±


    He wanted to calculate the chances of her escape, but there was far too much to do for him to indulge in such an unproductive whim. If he failed to sort the endless records before they got out of hand, then the task would degenerate into one capable of consuming an infinite amount of time, an amount that not even an ageless Celestial could afford to spare.

 Chapter 5 - A Mossy Awakening V

    Chapter 5 - A Mossy Awakening V


    Claire was disoriented. Getting taken out of and subsequently put back into her body left her feeling dizzy and lightheaded. The sudden lack of weightlessness felt as foreign as it did familiar, like a slice of pizza at a Chinese buffet. It took the halfbreed a few seconds to shake the sense of malaise, during which she steadied herself with one hand pressed against the ground and the other cradling her skull. Once her proprioception kicked in, she leaned her back against the rune-covered wall. Her guard was down, for the most part, but she still kept her spear at the ready. Just in case.


    The first item on her agenda was to test her newest skill. The ability had provided her all the knowhow she needed to activate it, but experimentation was the only way for her to figure out the details pertaining to its use.


    ¡°Activate Llystletein Authority.¡±


    A pixelated screen popped up in front of her as she spoke the skill¡¯s keyphrase.


    Llystletein Authority


    Spawnable Drinks


    - Cosmogoblitan (50MP)


    - Mimicosa (50MP)


    - Stale Water (25MP)


    Spawnable Food


    - Hellhog Bolognese (500MP)


    - Pulled Orc (150MP)


    - Stale Bread (25MP)


    Bread and water aside, she had never seen or heard of any of the items listed, but they weren¡¯t all that difficult to imagine either. She wasn¡¯t familiar enough with the different beverages to deduce their ingredients, but she was able to more or less determine beyond a reasonable doubt that one used mimics in its recipe, while the other contained something at least somewhat related to a goblin. The food items were much easier to picture. Pulled orc was obviously some sort of slow cooked orc dish, while hellhog bolognese was most likely a pasta dish topped with a hellhog-based sauce.


    The availability followed two blatant trends. All of them were made of monsters that Claire had personally defeated. And all of them were absolutely revolting.


    Hanging her head in disappointment, Claire begrudgingly selected the stale water option. The moss she had eaten earlier hadn¡¯t exactly contained enough moisture to stave off her thirst.


    A slow, gentle stream of liquid began to flow from the tip of her left index finger. She wasn¡¯t confident that her candleholder was sanitary anymore, given that it had both been dunked in poison and thrusted inside of a monster, so she drank directly from the source. The first thought that came to mind as she tasted it was that it was somehow worse than she expected. She immediately wrenched her finger out of her mouth and choked the odd-tasting fluid right back up. Though it looked transparent and clean, it was somehow more disgusting than a drink left unattended for days. And Claire knew exactly what that tasted like. She had once left a cup underneath her bed and forgotten about it for an entire week. Choosing to drink it upon its rediscovery had not exactly been a crowning achievement, but it was one that eventually found its way to her wall of shame. And yet, the fluid that came out of her finger made even that seem delicious by contrast. It was difficult for her to even think of the stuff as water.


    With her thirst as quenched as her taste buds would allow and her curiosity sated by revulsion, Claire moved onto the next item on her list, determining the way forward. There were three paths available, left, right, and center. She had, to an extent, explored both the left and right. The left was where she had come from initially, and the right was where she had stalked the hellhog. There was still much to explore in both directions but her curiosity kept her preoccupied with the path in the center.


    The old mage-cum-librarian had gone out of his way to advise her not to take it. And that was exactly why it was on her mind, as there were several different ways to interpret his warning. The first was that he genuinely wanted to give her advice. The second was that he was blatantly lying to actively combat her efforts to truly reach the lost library. And the third and most likely possibility was that he had mentioned it just to mess with her and force her through the exact dilemma that she was currently experiencing.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to let that old bat get the better of me.¡±


    Claire started walking down the long, winding hallway that was the middle path. It was wide enough to fit five or so fully armoured men standing side by side, or ten Claires. And that made her anxious. There was too much space to keep an eye on. Despite what she had said out loud, the halfbreed was unable to shake her nervousness. She couldn¡¯t help but think about the potential dangers or payoffs that awaited her. It didn¡¯t help that each step slowly led her further and further downwards, giving her the impression that she was slowly descending into the abyss.


    Unlike the other paths she had trodden so far, this one didn¡¯t have any particular branches. It remained more or less identical for something in the realm of thirty minutes, save its curvature, which seemed to grow more aggressive as she got further down. She wasn¡¯t confident in her measurement of the time elapsed. The lack of missing health made it more difficult for her to keep track of the clock, and the bit of mana she had spent on water had regenerated nearly instantly.


    At the end of the spiralling corridor was a particularly large room, wide enough to fit well over a hundred men, shoulder to shoulder, and just as long. The countless pillars that filled the chamber led her eyes towards its ceiling, a large multilayered construct in the shape of a drill. The further its petals got from the walls, the lower they hung, with the lowest point culminating in the exit Claire had just taken.


    At the opposite end of the enclosure was a massive set of double doors, in front of which stood an equally massive knight. His helmet was in the shape of a horse¡¯s head, with the sides open to reveal a pair of jagged, ivory horns. His cherry red plate armour was marred by countless scratches, each painted over with dried blood. Even more terrifying was his halberd, an axe-spear hybrid whose blade was as long as Claire was tall.


    The two locked eyes. Claire found a pair of glowing red dots staring right into her own slit-eyed pupils even though the two were over a hundred meters apart. A moment later, the creature roared. It raised its head and snarled at the top of its lungs in a primal display of dominance. The halfbreed froze like a deer in headlights, regaining control only when she realized that a creaking sound was coming from behind her. She spun around immediately and spotted a gate slowly closing over the door from which she had entered. Without a moment¡¯s hesitation, she dove right through it, sprinting back up the way she came.


    And not a moment too late.


    The gate, which had closed behind her, was nearly blown apart by a halberd-turned-projectile. The spikey tip pierced all the way through, embedding itself into the wall.


    Claire kept looking back as she dashed, stopping only a minute or so after she realized it was too large to follow her up. She was on the verge of concluding that it was safe for her to drop her guard when her ears picked up on an odd skittering sound, sourced from the path that lay ahead.


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    A long yet fat shadow suddenly appeared from around the corner, followed closely by its projector, a beaver-like rodent that stood at half her height on all fours. Its wide, floppy tail was tipped with stone-like armour, and its short incisors sharpened to a point.


    She didn¡¯t hesitate to attack the creature. Adrenaline still pumping through her veins from the previous encounter, Claire practically flew at her newly discovered target. Head aside, she wasn¡¯t able to identify any vitals, so she stabbed at the largest target, its back, for the time being.


    And failed.


    The rodent moved with surprising agility, side stepping the blow and tackling her in the leg. The beast¡¯s oddly shaped teeth dug into her, tearing out a small chunk of flesh off the front of the limb as it passed. She was lucky. It was as unfamiliar with fighting her as she was it. Its lack of experience left it unaware of her tibia, the presence of which prevented it from doing even more damage.


    Still, it was painful, incredibly so. Claire¡¯s knees nearly buckled, but she managed to kick the critter off before it could do any more harm.


    It charged at her again after it landed, fangs bared and ready to strike. But she was ready for it this time. Sort of. The rodent was much faster than her and she had yet to pull back her weapon following the thrust, so she ended up meeting it midcharge with the makeshift spear¡¯s butt. Getting hit in the side of the head threw the creature off course and caused it to fly into the wall beside her at full speed. She used her momentum to complete a revolving sweep with the tip of the blade, spinning around and slashing the beaver-like beast across its back before it could recover from its self-inflicted head trauma.


    Claire smiled to herself, thinking that combat wasn¡¯t anywhere nearly as difficult as the knights had always told her. Her confidence was replaced by contrition without a moment¡¯s delay, however, as she soon realized that the attack, which had been backed by all the force she could muster, had failed to prove itself significant. Her bone spearhead had slid off the semiaquatic monster¡¯s pelt without piercing it. No blood was drawn, no fur was cut, and no harm was done.


    The creature lashed out with its tail before she overcame the shock. The heavy, mace-like weapon sent her hurtling up the corridor. She was lucky it hadn¡¯t flung her the other way. She likely would¡¯ve hit a wall had it sent her flying downhill. The combined forces of gravity and the treemuncher¡¯s attack would¡¯ve been enough to break nearly any bone.


    Landing on the mossy ground, however, allowed her to skid to a stop and escape with ¡°only¡± a fractured arm.


    The pain was intense, much worse than the hellhog¡¯s half hearted, unintentional swipe. Claire was unable to fight back her tears. She was in so much distress that she even allowed the occasional sob to escape her. But she didn¡¯t give up. She clenched her teeth and used her spear to force herself back up as the oversized rodent once again began charging at her tail-first.


    This time, her furry opponent took to the air, swiping downwards with its rear as if to target her head.


    The halfbreed ducked to avoid the attack, lashing out with a stab as the two passed each other by. Again, the blade failed to pierce its fur, but the impact to the base of its tail at least seemed to bother it.


    It didn¡¯t break into a fourth charge right as it landed, instead taking a few moments to stumble about and chitter angrily, as if disoriented. This left Claire confused. The one handed blow she had just struck was significantly weaker than the two handed slash the beaver had shrugged off only moments prior.


    She checked her own health as she slowly circled the critter. Surprisingly, she still had about half. She expected her HP to be far lower. The excruciating agony that pulsed from her near-broken arm was magnitudes worse than what she had felt when the ritual had drained three fourths of her life force. Another equally welcome surprise came in the form of the beaver¡¯s newfound caution. Every time she moved, it would do the same, maintaining the amount of distance between the two as would a fencer, a similarity Claire chalked up to coincidence.


    She was wrong.


    It was staying just far enough for it to pounce at her without putting itself in reach of her spear. Having judged that its five meter leap was punished due to the length of the time it spent in flight, the rodent sought to initiate a similar attack from a shorter distance. The moment its pain eased was the moment it kicked off the ground. The beast dove straight at her chest, swiping the bulky appendage that was its weapon from left to right to crush her frame at its core.


    This too was met with an unfortunate counter. Claire dodged towards the tip of the oversized rodent¡¯s tail, moving past it right as it readied its blow. And as the two crossed paths, she once again struck the spot she targeted previously. Spending a few moments circling her foe had allowed her to not only realize that she had uncovered a weakness¡ªwhich led her to move her grip further up the shaft in order to better target it¡ªbut also that she had a combat-attuned active skill at her disposal.


    With an entirely unnecessary and utterly embarrassing shout of ¡°Double Stab!¡±, the halfbreed created a translucent duplicate of the weapon¡¯s tip, one that seemed to somehow exist in the same place as it, but also not exist at the same time. Ignoring the bizarre contradiction, she drilled the spear straight into the base of the rodent¡¯s tail. Adding to the situation¡¯s eccentricity was the fact that only the invisible attack drew blood. Sort of. It didn¡¯t pierce or directly wound the creature, but Claire noted a crimson splatter as ethereal as the false blade accompanying her strike.


    She let go of the weapon and drew her two others before the beaver hit the ground. She dashed right at it, aiming at its eyes, the only other weaknesses she was aware of. One of the Double Stab enchanted strikes landed exactly where she wanted it while the other slid across its pelt. That, however, was not to say that it was unproductive. The fur near the beaver¡¯s face was thinner than the rest; her blade managed to dig through it and gouge out a piece of its cheek.


    Though at an advantage, she wasn¡¯t out of the woods just yet. Its sharpened fangs dug into one of her arms, holding it in place, and forcing her to repeatedly stab it with her free hand, every strike enchanted.


    It was a desperate struggle. She couldn¡¯t quite seem to finish it, and it couldn¡¯t quite seem to gnaw off her arm. Both were frantic, aware of their rapidly draining resources. Claire was finding it harder and harder to put force into her swings. And the prospect of breaking down and crying seemed ever more attractive.


    But in the end, right as her health dropped into the single digits, she came out on top.


    Log Entry 490


    You have slain a level 17 caveveaber.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 2 points of dexterity


    - 7 points of vitality


    - 1 point of wisdom


    Log Entry 491


    You have unlocked a new spawnable food item.


    Log Entry 492


    Makeshift Weapon Mastery has reached level 2.


    Log Entry 493


    Double Stab has reached level 2.


    Log Entry 494


    You have acquired the Spear Mastery skill.


    Log Entry 495


    You have acquired the Dagger Mastery skill.


    Log Entry 496


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your primary class, Rogue, has reached level 4.


    You have gained 3 ability points.


    A wave of relief washed over her as a wave of notifications spammed her log. She began to heal the moment she pulled her hand out of the veaber¡¯s mouth, rapidly regenerating to a state of perfect health.


    Claire waited for her hands to stop trembling to finally retrieve her equipment. She considered taking apart the beaver-like creature in order to use its hide as a sort of armour, but she had no idea as to how she was supposed to go about dismantling it, nor did it seem like there was enough fur to make even a simple shirt. Given that it obviously couldn¡¯t fit inside her pouch, she decided to leave it behind, at least for the time being.


    ¡°Never again.¡±


    Mumbling to herself, the halfbreed resumed her trek up the corridor.


    ¡°I¡¯m never fighting one of those things ever again.¡±


    Needless to say, she was wrong.


    Rounding a few corners led her to discover not one but two identical creatures with their heads poking out from the walls.

 Chapter 6 - A Mossy Awakening VI

    Chapter 6 - A Mossy Awakening VI


    Claire was luckier this time. Noticing the caveveabers before entering their detection range allowed her to better prepare herself for the impending bout. Though she was anything but a monster hunter, she was still well aware that tackling a higher level monster head-on was equivalent to suicide. She was fortunate to have survived her previous encounter, it took a highly experienced party to consider such an approach without risking death. And Claire was neither experienced, nor a party. Or even the life of any she attended.


    Cautiously, the halfbreed inched towards the oversized rodents. She moved along the wall as she snuck up on them, frequently entrusting it with most of her weight to minimize the volume of her footsteps. As she got closer, she realized that they were gnawing through the corridor¡¯s sides, chittering and chattering to each other as they slowly but surely grew the hole with every bite. For the most part, they kept their heads within the walls, only exposing their muzzles on occasion to retrieve the odd fallen stone.


    She was pleasantly surprised to find that they didn¡¯t have the best sense of smell. Her tongue was able to pick up on their scents far before their noses could detect hers, even in spite of the fact that she was covered in blood. Closing the distance proved their olfactory senses outright dysfunctional. They failed to sniff her out, no matter how close she got. Likewise, they also remained unable to hear her, even though her footsteps were only relatively muted. Evidently, the veabers were much more reliant on sight than any of their other senses. And as they were too preoccupied with their meal to scan their surroundings, they had effectively become blind to the predator¡¯s presence.


    Leveraging their poor senses, the hunter was able to sneak right up to them and position herself with one leg on either side of their burrow¡¯s entrance. All without being discovered.


    Log Entry 497


    Sneaking has reached level 3.


    She placed her spear¡¯s shaft in her mouth, biting down to grip it as she raised her fanged daggers. She wound up holding the position for about a minute, striking only when one of the beavers stuck out its head to reach for a fallen rock. Both Double Stab-laced strikes were true. They dug straight into the rodent¡¯s eyes, thoroughly destroying its only dependable sensory organs before it could so much as spot her shadow.


    Shrieking like a banshee, the stone eater began thrashing about, pulling back into its cave as it flailed about in a manner reminiscent of a headless chicken. Claire tried to pull her daggers out of its eye sockets, but to no avail. They were stuck too deep. The caveveaber¡¯s frantic retreat led it to inadvertently wrench both from her hands with its superior strength.


    Its partner began investigating the threat in its place, but Claire was as ready for it as she was its mate. The moment it stuck its head out through the hole was the moment she plunged her spear straight into its skull. A third application of her only combat-worthy active skill amplified the damage even further.


    She had yet to read through Spear Mastery and learn its precise effects, but she could feel it kicking in nonetheless. Her body understood, without the need for instruction or practice, that swinging her weapon in an arc would provide more force than bringing it straight down, that putting her back into the blow would strengthen it, and that twisting it upon penetrating her target would warp and tear its flesh.


    But just as she was ready for it, it too was ready for her. It began barking as soon as it noticed it was under attack, signalling her location to its blinded companion. A moment later, her lower back was nearly crushed by a sudden heavy blow. Her spine only survived it because the now crumbled wall she had been leaning against aided in dampening the impact.


    She pushed down on her spear to stop herself from lurching forward, but the flimsy makeshift weapon was unable to hold her weight. It snapped like the twig it was, leaving half its length in the caveveaber¡¯s skull and her a victim to the momentum it failed to absorb.


    The would-be assassin gasped for air as she hit the ground, most of it expunged from her lungs by the force of the impact. Gritting her teeth to bear with the pain in her hips, she scrambled to her feet and turned to face the music. Only to find that all her concerns were for naught.


    Neither of the two caveveabers were upon her. One was scratching at its own face in a fit of desperation, trying to reach the weapon stuck in its head with its all-too-short forelimbs, while the other more blind specimen frantically sniffed around for her with its dysfunctional nose.


    The perfect opportunity.


    She ignored any meaning their constant chittering might have had and hobbled to the one whose eyes remained serviceable. It called for its partner as soon as it spotted her approach, but to little avail. The other rodent¡¯s blindness threw off its aim. Cannonballing in her general direction sent it over her head and into a wall.


    Overwhelmed by pain, the speared veaber began screeching even louder. It knew it couldn¡¯t escape, even with her back injured and her gait slowed to a limp. The wound to her prey¡¯s brain was too damning. It couldn¡¯t move its left hind leg. It tried to crawl away even without it, but it lacked the speed to outpace her. Once she reached it, Claire began hammering at the broken end of her spear with its other half. The combination of her dexterity and her mastery over makeshift weapons aided her in remaining on target. Each strike either landed head-on and drove the pole weapon¡¯s tip deeper into the creature¡¯s skull, or slipped the slightest bit and jostled it around instead. Whatever the case, the end result was the destruction of her target¡¯s grey matter. By the third strike, the caveveaber¡¯s whole body had started to spasm. By the fifth, its death throes were reduced to mere twitches. And by the seventh, it fell still.


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    Log Entry 498


    You have slain a level 14 caveveaber.


    This feat has earned you 1 extra point of wisdom.


    Log Entry 499


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Halfbreed, has reached level 11.


    Your primary class, Rogue, has reached level 6.


    Your agility and dexterity have been increased by 5.


    You have gained 8 ability points.


    An awkward but relieving sensation pulsed through Claire¡¯s lower back as her dislocated hip snapped itself back into its socket. And just in time. Her now functional legs and newfound lack of pain allowed her to leap over the critter charging at her.


    Overestimating the rodent¡¯s speed led to an early but still somewhat successful dodge. Rather than landing behind the rodent once it passed, she found herself with her butt on its back. She wasn¡¯t heavy enough for the accidental bodyslam to inflict any damage, but she was fragile enough to take it. The force of the impact had actually slightly reduced her health, and her rump hadn¡¯t enjoyed the experience of discovering that the creature was a lot bonier than its furry exterior would have otherwise suggested.


    Distracted by a mix of observation and discomfort, it took Claire a moment to realize that the veaber¡¯s tail was swinging towards her face. She immediately raised both arms and braced herself while cursing her own stupidity. Or at least she did until she discovered that the impact had been nothing but underwhelming. It felt more like a light boop than a heavy swing. Looking down at the rodent provided an explanation as to why. The hard, stone-like armour covering the top of the rodent¡¯s mace was inflexible. The beaver was unable to swing its tail at its own back with any significant force, nor was it capable of turning its torso enough to nip at her heels. Worse yet, no amount of thrashing was able to get her off. Its limbs were too short to allow for motions grand enough to disrupt her balance.


    Its back was its blind spot, a major weakness just waiting to be exploited.


    Spinning around, Claire grabbed the fangs she had left in the caveveaber¡¯s eyes and began to strike at its head with Double Stab, ripping and tearing until it was done.


    Log Entry 500


    Double Stab has reached level 3.


    Log Entry 501


    Dagger Mastery has reached level 2.


    Log Entry 502


    You have slain a level 21 caveveaber.


    Log Entry 503


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your primary class, Rogue, has reached level 7.


    You have gained 1 ability point.


    Claire breathed a sigh of relief as she collapsed atop the now dead rodent. For a moment, she allowed herself to lie still, but soon snapped back to attention. Because she came to realize that the chittering had yet to stop.


    A shiver ran up her spine as she slowly scanned the walls.


    There were holes everywhere.


    Eyes everywhere.


    Veabers.


    Everywhere.


    Before another moment passed, she turned tail and started running at top speed. A wave of pursuers followed. It was small at first, and the veabers¡¯ short stubby legs prevented them from gaining on her, but the horde¡¯s volume continued to grow with every passing moment. It was like there were an endless number of them within the rocky spiral¡¯s walls.


    Outrunning just one of them was a simple task, but she lacked the tools required to escape them all. Or at least that was what she thought. The situation took a turn for the better the moment she reached the illuminated cavern. For reasons entirely beyond her comprehension, the veabers didn¡¯t follow her out of the spiralling corridor. Instead, they chittered angrily, stared at her for a bit, then turned around and returned to their caves.


    She slowed down and collapsed once she realized that she was safe, panting and wheezing while her heart pounded at a mile a minute.


    ¡°What just happened?¡±


    Claire asked herself the question between tired gasps. The sudden wave of exhaustion that hit her was brought on by more than just a sudden sprint. The day¡¯s many near death experiences had finally started catching up with her. She was hungry, thirsty, tired, and frankly, sick of the dungeon.


    ¡°I want to go home,¡± she mumbled.


    A few moment¡¯s worth of processing later, she realized that the statement was false. What Claire really wanted was not to go home, but to go back to the home that she had a week ago, the warmth, gentle manor where most treated her with affection. Not the place of death it had become. She wasn¡¯t welcome there. Not anymore. The warm, fluffy bed that she so dearly missed would from now on belong to Alice and Alice alone. I hope she¡¯s doing okay.


    ¡°I should really eat something¡­¡±


    Having finally caught her breath, she propped herself up against a rock and picked up a handful of moss. She nearly brought it to her mouth, stopping only as an uncomfortable sensation shot through her stomach. And not because it was empty.


    A few moments of confusion later, her face paled. She pulled up Llystletein Authority''s skill entry and confirmed a certain minor detail that she had noted about an hour ago.


    The moss she had nearly eaten again, the moss currently making its way through her bowels, was the sort of substance that only a cow could digest. And much to Claire¡¯s dismay, she soon discovered that desperate mooing did not a cow make.

 Chapter 7 - A Mossy Awakening VII

    Chapter 7 - A Mossy Awakening VII


    ¡°I¡¯m never eating another bite of that stupid moss ever again.¡±


    It took Claire roughly two hours of pain and suffering to escape the evil green substance¡¯s dark influence, after which she was left even hungrier than before. And as eating more moss was entirely out of the question, it didn¡¯t take long for her to resort to the only other option at her disposal.


    ¡°Activate Llystletein Authority.¡±


    Llystletein Authority


    Spawnable Drinks


    - Cosmogoblitan (50MP)


    - Mimicosa (50MP)


    - Stale Water (25MP)


    Spawnable Food


    - *NEW* Grilled Veaber Tail (200MP)


    - Hellhog Bolognese (500MP)


    - Pulled Orc (150MP)


    - Stale Bread (25MP)


    ¡°I almost forgot I unlocked a new food item.¡±


    She pulled up her log again and started glancing through it to remind herself of its contents. Her most recent mossy experience had left her doubting her own memory. She couldn¡¯t help but feel as if there was something else that she was missing, something somewhat important. Surely enough, her eyes soon found themselves locked onto the level up entry, namely the part of it that mentioned the cleansing of harmful status effects. A gulp of air made it down her throat as she felt a small spark of hope ignite within her. She wanted to believe it, but it was too difficult. The glimmering light was shrouded in a mist of doubt. She was nearly convinced, even without double checking, that it would be shut down. But even so, she reached forward and tried to grasp it. She dared to dream, to play the role of a starry eyed youth with a paradigm-shifting question.


    ¡°Does that mean I¡¯m not cursed anymore?¡±


    Claire put the theory to the test by calling some of the images that now flooded her memory to mind, after which she almost instantly began inadvertently admiring them. Their fluffy ears, adorable tiny fangs, and bushy tails perfectly accented their slender¡ª ¡±Wait, what am I thinking!?¡±


    Shaking her head clear of any indecent thoughts, Claire concluded that the answer was a resounding no. The curse remained. In fact, it seemed like it was even stronger than it was before. I really hope I¡¯m just imagining things...


    Though Claire knew¡ªor at least thought¡ªthat the head librarian was unable to hear her, she spent a good few minutes creatively insulting him and angrily shouting suggestions of an autoerotic nature. Only once she was done venting did she direct her attention back towards Llystletein Authority¡¯s interface.


    Stale bread aside, the newest food item was the only one that even remotely interested her. And not because she thought it would enlighten her taste buds. Her interest was instead driven by genuine curiosity. She had no idea how she, or anyone for that matter, was supposed to go about consuming a caveveaber¡¯s tail. She knew that there was flesh underneath the stony exterior, but it just didn¡¯t seem like the most edible thing in the world. Maybe it¡¯s like milk and it¡¯s actually really good. How did we even start drinking milk anyway? What kind of idiot do you have to be to come up with an idea like drinking the white stuff out of a cow¡¯s dangly thing?


    ¡°It¡¯s only two hundred mana.¡± The serpent on her shoulder spoke to her, its imaginary body coiled around her left arm. She had no idea how it had climbed the limb, but it was staring at her, its neck poking out from underneath her shoulder. ¡°You¡¯ll get it all back in less than an hour.¡± Its temptation was all she needed to give in to the impulse. The halfbreed confirmed her selection before the shoulder snake¡¯s counterpart could even begin to argue.


    Glowing white mana gathered in the palm of her hand. What started as a ball of raw energy soon took on a series of shapes. Its bottom most layer became a sort of earthenware plate, a fancy ovular platter with a bright floral pattern engraved into its gilded rim. The rest turned to sustenance, with the main star of the show on the left and a free side on the right. Claire¡¯s attention was first drawn to the meat. Shape aside, the rudder was almost exactly like a lobster¡¯s. Cooking the appendage had changed its rock-like ¡°shell¡± from grey to red, and the crack that ran down the covering¡¯s center revealed a layer of near pure white flesh, glazed with a sauce based heavily in garlic and butter. The other half of the platter mainly featured greens, vegetables roasted and coated in the same sauce as the meaty feature.


    The magical glow left once the dish was fully formed. And with it went the artificial lessening of its weight. An entirely unprepared Claire suddenly found the platter twenty pounds heavier, with most of the excess mass attributed to the shell used in the decorative presentation. Her arm gave out instantly. The plate she was holding crashed food-first into the floor before she could react.


    ¡°...¡±


    The less-than-satiating outcome was so heartbreaking she nearly cried. In fact, she had almost immediately started sniffling. The only thing that stopped her from outright breaking into tears was the realization that she wasn¡¯t actually out of food. Summoning more was always an option. She would have to wait another few minutes for it to fully materialize, but that wasn¡¯t an issue. It wasn¡¯t like she was going to starve any time soon.


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    Using her foot to not-so-subtly push her mistake out of sight, she recast Llystletein Authority and summoned another veaber tail. This time, she kept both hands ready and waiting atop a relatively flat rock.


    Log Entry 504


    Llystletein Authority has reached level 2.


    The ¡°Actions¡± submenu has been unlocked.


    Actions? She allowed her curiosity to get the better of her and booted the skill¡¯s menu as her dinner finished constructing itself.


    Llystletein Authority


    *NEW* Actions


    - Establish Safe Zone (1 week cooldown)


    Spawnable Drinks


    - Cosmogoblitan (50MP)


    - Mimicosa (50MP)


    - Stale Water (25MP)


    Spawnable Food


    - Grilled Veaber Tail (200MP)


    - Hellhog Bolognese (500MP)


    - Pulled Orc (150MP)


    - Stale Bread (25MP)


    Claire hovered an imaginary finger over the skill¡¯s newest feature, stopping only for a moment to consider setting up base elsewhere. The cooldown was an entire week and she knew very little about the dungeon¡¯s layout. With that said, it wouldn¡¯t be long before she needed to sleep, the safety of which would have been questionable without the skill¡¯s supposed effect. Given her lack of energy, she decided that activating it immediately was most likely her best option. Worst thing that can happen is I end up stuck in the area for a week.


    Log Entry 505


    You have created a safe zone. Other entities cannot enter it without your permission while you are present. The safe zone will be deactivated if a hostile entity enters while you are away. It can be reactivated by defeating all nearby hostiles.


    With any remaining safety-related concerns settled, she dug right into her meal, her sad, tasteless meal. While the beaver tail looked delicious, it wasn¡¯t exactly what Claire thought of as palatable. She did think it was better than stale bread, given that it had a nice texture, but that meant nothing before its lackluster taste. It wasn¡¯t even worth trying to compare it to anything that came from the manor¡¯s kitchen. The biggest problem was that it was bland. The caveveaber¡¯s flesh was insipid, dry, and almost too tough for her to chew. The greens were also rather awful. They tasted like they had been boiled until they lost all semblance of flavour. I won¡¯t get all the vitamins I need if I don¡¯t eat them. Wait, what are vitamins again? And why do I know about them?


    It only took about a quarter of the platter for her to decide that she had had enough, so she set the rest aside and focused her efforts on creating a nice, soft, bed of moss. Once it was finally ready, she stretched, laid down, and popped open her status.


    She had a grand total of 18 ability points to distribute, courtesy of all her recent level ups. In the past, she would have dumped them into spirit and wisdom without a second thought, the former for magic resistance, the latter to enhance her spells. But the past was long gone. She wasn¡¯t a mage anymore.


    Rogues relied on a completely different set of stats. Unlike their staff-wielding counterparts, they couldn¡¯t just magic things to death. They had to rely on the clever manipulation of their bodies to survive.


    Reflecting on her battles so far, Claire found her biggest problem to be a lack of force. She couldn¡¯t easily finish her foes, even with well aimed strikes at their vitals. It had even taken her seven whole swings to end a caveveaber with a spear stuck in its brain, and frankly, that was unacceptable. Continuing to survive without any raw power would be miraculous at best.


    Her second most notable problem was a lack of health. The measure of her total life force had dipped into the single digits twice in just one day. That too was inadmissible. She had no intention of continuing to court death with such vigour.


    Speed was yet another issue. She had been fast enough to deal with the caveveabers, but a head-on confrontation with an uninjured hellhog was sure to spell her end. She had seen how fast they moved, and she knew she wouldn¡¯t be able to keep up just yet. The level-based agility scaling her class provided certainly would help to mitigate the problem, but she doubted that it would be enough on its own.


    The final stat to consider, dexterity, was like wisdom and spirit in that it was a least concern. She didn¡¯t feel like the deftness of her hands had posed her any significant problems. At least not yet. Most of her strikes had landed where she wanted them to.


    With all six core attributes considered, Claire decided to address her problems in what seemed like the order of their importance. She pumped ten points into strength, five into vitality, and her remaining three into agility. Her business done, she closed her eyes, leaned into the moss, and drifted off to the land of dreams.


    Or at least she tried.


    The moment her eyelids shut was the moment she realized that she had misplaced her safe zone.


    The glowing rocks that filled the illuminated cavern were far too bright. They were so obnoxiously shiny that, even with her cloak pulled over her head, she found it all but impossible to fall asleep.


    Claire


    Health: 130/130


    Mana: 217/566


    Health Regen: 22/hour


    Mana Regen: 320/hour


    Ability Scores - 0 Points Available


    - Agility: 24


    - Dexterity: 34


    - Spirit: 57


    - Strength: 22


    - Vitality: 22


    - Wisdom: 160


    Racial Class: Halfbreed - Level 11.23


    - No affiliated skills


    Primary Class: Rogue - Level 7.65


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 1.97


    - Double Stab - Level 3.02


    Unclassed Skills


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 2.31


    - Dancing - Level 5.24


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 2.20


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 2.89


    - Marish - Level 18.97


    - Sneaking - Level 3.41


    - Spear Mastery - Level 1.57


    - Tracking - Level 1.00

 Chapter 8 - First Contact

    Chapter 8 - First Contact


    It was a world of spires, a world of buildings tall enough to pierce through the clouds and rend the heavens asunder. Their towering shadows almost seemed to stand as affronts to the gods, attestations of resistance and defiance.


    It was impudence incarnate. And yet, no divine punishment was doled.


    Because there were no gods left to administer it.


    Within the metropolis¡¯ boundaries, nature¡¯s remnants were few and far between. The occasional tree stood. But none had been truly allowed to be. Their limbs were pruned, their extremities constantly cut, and their desperate efforts to grow denied without remorse. Those of a certain age were always replaced with younger plants, plants whose thinner trunks would not obstruct the passersby.


    The dryads were not the only ones denied. While the tree nymphs were robbed of their prosperity, the spirits of water were contained and controlled. Likewise, the spirits of thunder were turned to slaves, forced to fuel the ambitions of those unable to hear their cries.


    Not even the spirits of flame, once burning with destructive passion, could resist their bindings. They were all but extinguished, to be revived only when it was convenient for their masters.


    There was nothing to be done.


    The land was too defiled for the nymphs to have power, their divinity robbed by a lack of worship.


    The fallen titans had been forgotten. And with their fading came that of the pantheon whose duty was their repulsion.


    Not even their titles remained, wiped from the records and sealed beneath ten hundred thousand solar revolutions.


    And yet, the people continued to prosper.


    In a land where not a single blessing remained.


    ___


    Claire rubbed her temples as she slowly sat up. She wasn¡¯t feeling well. Attempting to sleep in the brightly lit room had certainly been one of her predicament¡¯s notable contributors, but it was not the worst. Nearly all her discomfort had come from the bizarre dream she returned to each time the night took her in its embrace.


    Like many of her other recent late night reveries, it was clear. Too clear. She could vividly recall the experience of watching over an unkempt man¡¯s shoulder as he spent countless hours staring at a miniature catgirl inside of a glowing box. That alone was enough to qualify the dream as a nightmare, but it was just the premise, the base atop which her dreadful, lucid experience was built.


    He wasn¡¯t just sitting in front of her. The very same man was also standing beside her. It wasn¡¯t a body double or a twin, but a legitimate second instance, a projection as astral and non-present as the form she had taken. From time to time, he spoke, explaining what he showed her in a language she somehow understood. But that didn¡¯t mean that his words were heard.


    It wasn¡¯t the first time she had been in his company. The experience wasn¡¯t always awful either. She would even say that she enjoyed it, on occasion. Last night¡¯s encounter, however, was not one of those occasions. Calling it traumatizing would have been an understatement. She really hadn¡¯t needed to see him pull down his pants. Nor had she even remotely wanted to listen to him explain his interests in extreme detail. It was like the librarian¡¯s curse had somehow corrupted even the spirit in her mind.


    ¡°And why does it always have to be catgirls?¡±


    The question she mumbled was the part that had thrown her off the most. It wasn¡¯t as if she didn¡¯t understand why people were attracted to the feminine felines in general, courtesy of a certain curse, but she failed to see why both the spirit and the librarian were so obsessed with them. They weren¡¯t noble like the harpies, mysterious like the merfolk, nor great conquerors like the elves. None of their more notable traits were particularly uncommon either. Tails, fangs, and animal-like ears could be found anywhere. She did have to admit that they were notably more acrobatic than the average beastkin, but that was a strength they shared with over a dozen other subspecies.


    ¡°This is a waste of time.¡±


    Coming to the conclusion that there was no real conclusion to be made, Claire discarded her train of thought and began sorting out her agenda for the day.


    The first thing she wanted to do was to get cleaned up. She was filthy. Both her cloak and her dress were covered in blood. Bathing was typically a part of her nightly routine, but she had skipped it in favour of heading straight to bed. The previous day¡¯s events had left her far too exhausted. Now that she finally had the time and energy, she decided to get to it right away.


    Eight casts of Llystletein Authority, each featuring a stream of stale water, more or less did the trick. She was able to get herself squeaky clean, but her clothes remained at least somewhat stained. Both her dress and her cloak sported a series of permanent red stains that she was unable to rinse off.


    A more pressing problem presented itself right as she gave up on washing out all the blood. She didn¡¯t have anything else to wear. Preparing a change of clothes was a task that the halfbreed had never once concerned herself with. Her maids had always done it in her stead. With a defeated sigh, she hung her clothes on a nearby glowing rock and moved on. Her lack of planning had left her feeling embarrassed, but she didn¡¯t mull on the sentiment for long. There was no point crying over spilled milk, and sitting around in the nude was at least preferable to being cold, wet, and soggy. The halfbreed wasn¡¯t exactly cold blooded, but her more reptilian ancestry led her to prefer warmth over its opposite.


    Fortunately, the heat the rocks radiated helped her solve her clothing problem by the time she finished breakfast, another veaber tail. Both the dress and the cloak had been thin enough to dry off relatively quickly. Only the ropes were still a little bit soggy, but Claire didn¡¯t particularly mind them since they didn¡¯t make direct contact with her skin.


    What do I do now?


    She began contemplating her options as she dressed herself. She had already concluded that the bull knight¡¯s gate was most likely the dungeon¡¯s exit and that defeating it was the key to opening the door. But for the time being, winning such a duel was impossible. The guardian was obviously too strong for her. She needed more power if she wanted a fighting chance at taking it down. I think I should at least wait until my first ascension. A second class would be nice.


    That, however, did not mean that grinding out her levels had to be the first thing on her agenda. Claire had lost her spear to the caveveaber horde, and while the weapon wasn¡¯t one she had been particularly attached to, it had definitely served her well. Without it, she wouldn¡¯t have been able to survive the two versus one she had managed to win last night.


    Another important task on the chopping block was to sort through the knowledge granted to her by Llystletein Authority, but Claire didn¡¯t have any Llystletein classes unlocked. The exercise seemed rather pointless given its lack of immediate relevance, so she decided to put it off. She was confident that she wouldn¡¯t forget to check up on it once its teachings became relevant. She was also confident that pigs were incapable of flight, but that was only because she¡¯d never seen a skygrunter before.


    Listing out her options led Claire to realize that there was a rather obvious choice. Weapons had to come first. She was sure to need more of them if she wanted to stand a chance against the lost library¡¯s less-than-friendly inhabitants.


    With her next steps decided and her equipment ready, she headed off to the hellhog¡¯s lair as she glanced over the two skills she had acquired from her misadventures in Caveveaberland.


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    Spear Mastery - Level 1


    The way of the spear comes as naturally to your father¡¯s people as the art of waddling to a duck. This skill will allow you to better draw upon that of which your body is naturally predispositioned to understand, even if you are an ugly duckling.


    Effects


    - Unlocks spear-based skills.


    - Improves your technique with the spear.


    - Increases damage dealt by 11% (10% + 1% per level) when attacking with a spear.


    - When wielding a spear, strength is improved by 27.5% (25% + 2.5% per level) of your dexterity.


    And here I was thinking that the box wasn¡¯t going to insult me for once.


    Dagger Mastery - Level 2


    Did you know that not every problem is meant to be solved by repeatedly stabbing it in the face with whatever sharp object you happen to have on hand? Well, you do now. This skill should teach even you that not every weapon is meant to be used like a greataxe.


    Effects


    - Unlocks dagger-based skills.


    - Improves your technique with the dagger.


    - Increases damage dealt by 12% (10% + 1% per level) when attacking with a dagger.


    - When wielding a dagger, strength is improved by 30% (25% + 2.5% per level) of your dexterity.


    - Gain the ability to identify the weaknesses and vitals of enemies you are in combat with. This effect grows more pronounced with skill level and time spent in battle against a particular foe.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with stabbing things in the face?¡±


    Claire stopped moving for a moment to blink at the skill¡¯s description. Logically, it made sense to her. But at the same time, it didn¡¯t. There was no reason not to attack an obvious weak point, after all.


    She arrived at her destination shortly after she finished contemplating the effects of her newfound skills. The half reptile was surprised to find that, while the collection she wished to sort through was still present, the hellhog itself was gone. Its corpse had vanished, flesh, bones, and all. Foot and body prints aside, the only remnant of its existence was the occasional crimson stain upon the mossy backdrop. It was a bit off-putting, given that the desperate struggle was still clear in its killer¡¯s mind, but not strange enough to distract her from the task of sorting through the deceased hog¡¯s trophy collection.


    It was difficult to find anything decent among the fleshless carcasses, and not just because everything was more or less the same shade of white. The large hardened fangs she had looted the first time around had been the cream of the crop. All the other potential weapons were notably worse. Most of the other enamel-based constructs were too small to function as instruments of war and few bones were any better off. Nearly every osseous remain she came across was too frail, too dull, heavily damaged, or all of the above. That wasn¡¯t news, of course, as Claire¡¯s first spear had been made of nothing but a broken rib and a stick, but she wanted to get her hands on something better if she could.


    A whole hour of searching and sorting later, she was able to pick out a few passable pieces. The first was what looked to be the tip of a tail from a monster that used it as a weapon. It was jagged and shaped like a three-pronged pitchfork with the base of each blade fused together. It would¡¯ve been perfect as a speartip if not for how dull its ends were. That wasn¡¯t to say that it was unusable, however, as remedying the issue was as simple as grinding down the edges. Claire wasn¡¯t a hundred percent sure that it would hold throughout the process, but there was no reason not to at least give it a shot once she got back to base.


    Her second acquisition had almost been a veaber tail. Almost. Her plans took a sudden turn for the better when she accidentally smashed it with its replacement during a durability test. It turned out that the tails were a lot more fragile once detached from the veaber¡¯s bodies, a trait that was surprisingly common amongst minerals and monster parts alike. Many materials were known to either gain or lose durability based on the amount of mana contained within, and given that the rear appendage¡¯s owner had almost been deceased for an indiscriminate amount of time, its frailty came as no surprise.


    Channeling her own magical energy through another one of the tails in the collection would have easily rectified the tail¡¯s main issue, but the blue blood discarded the idea in favour of keeping the bone she had used to smash it. The hefty organic mace stood at somewhere between half and three quarters of her height. She had dismissed it at first glance, but her tail experiment led her to discover that it was one of the few items still in perfect condition. Surprisingly, it continued to stay that way, even after she tried bashing it against a wide variety of objects for the sake of experimentation. Swinging it around wasn¡¯t easy, but the devastatingly heavy blows that it could deliver were well worth the trade off.


    The only pre-sharpened weapons Claire managed to acquire were a pair of antlers just a bit longer than her forearms. They were somewhat like the club in that she hadn¡¯t actually considered them at first. Being attached to a skull had made them a little too unwieldy for her, even with her Makeshift Weapon Mastery skill. Fortunately, the violent application of a certain girthy bone just so happened to solve that particular problem. It turned out that the antlers were just as good as the fangs. Each featured a lengthy handle in the form of a blunt base as well as a series of pointed ends to do damage with. The only complaint she had was that they were curved as opposed to straight, but she was confident that she would be able to put them to good use with enough time and practice.


    Unlike the four that preceded it, her fifth and final piece of loot was much less notable. The prospective spear shaft was thin, long, and light, everything it needed to be and nothing more.


    ¡°This supposed to be where the little shit was last seen?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s what I heard. Doubt even the gods know if it¡¯s true.¡±


    Claire¡¯s ears perked up. The long, pointed organs angled themselves upwards and outwards as they caught a pair of distant voices.


    Other people.


    They were getting closer. Their words were becoming clearer and clearer with every passing moment.


    At first, she thought to approach their owners for help, but stopped as she recalled that she knew nothing about the people she had nearly set herself up to encounter. It was entirely plausible that they were the sort that meant her harm. With that in mind, she packed up her newfound belongings, moved behind a large rock formation, and slowed her breathing to minimize the risk of discovery. Though it was uncomfortable, she even tucked her ears down close to the side of her head to further shrink her already tiny frame.


    ¡°Oh great, now we¡¯re working un-fucking-knowns. Which sorry bastard did you rip the news from this time?¡±


    The first man¡¯s voice was fairly deep. For reasons beyond her understanding, he sounded both neutral and incredibly annoyed at the same time. His tone alone was enough to remind her of the ever irritable Rydland and his perpetual scowl.


    ¡°Beck, of course. Who else?¡±


    The angry person¡¯s conversation partner had an even deeper voice, but unlike his companion, he sounded calm and relaxed, gentle even.


    ¡°Beck? Beck!? Fucking brilliant,¡± complained the first man. ¡°We¡¯re investigating a Hellhog¡¯s lair on that shortdick¡¯s terms? I should¡¯ve fucking known.¡±


    ¡°Beck was the only one that had any news.¡±


    ¡°Can you two shut up already? You¡¯re going to get us killed.¡±


    A third, more feminine voice joined the conversation. She sounded almost as annoyed as the angrier man, but for what seemed a much better reason.


    ¡°Feh! You¡¯re the only one of us that¡¯d get killed, Shortstuff. Unlike your tiny midget ass, me and Niel have got real legs. We¡¯re leaving you behind and getting the fuck outta here the moment the hellhog shows up.¡±


    ¡°Why did I team up with this jerk?¡± said the girl, with a tired groan.


    ¡°You were worried about Gurd,¡± said the man named Niel.


    ¡°Right. Of course I did,¡± the girl sighed. ¡°I¡¯m starting to think Gurdy might not be worth the trouble.¡±


    They were so close that their footsteps were audible even through the moss. It wasn¡¯t all that difficult to distinguish between the three sets. Each was clearly in its own weight class. From the context of the conversation and the individual voices, she deduced that Niel was something along the lines of a giant, whilst the female sported an audibly generous waistline. She couldn¡¯t tell what the angry man was, but his footprints made it sound like he had an average build.


    ¡°Quit acting like you don¡¯t have a thing for him, Shortstuff,¡± said the most irritable member of the party. ¡°The whole damn citadel knows you want his tiny ass prick between your legs.¡±


    Citadel? There¡¯s a citadel?


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°What? You think we don¡¯t see the way you stare at him? Only time any bitch ever gets a look like that on her face is when she¡¯s got dick on her mind. Dumb slut.¡±


    ¡°You piece of shit! I¡¯m going to kill you!¡±


    Claire was confused. She couldn¡¯t figure out the group¡¯s intentions. On one hand, they had stated that someone would die if they encountered a hellhog, and on the other, they were screaming loudly enough for her to think that they were trying their best to attract it. Are they just stupid?


    ¡°Oooohhh scary! The fat twat¡¯s going to poke me to death with her toothpick!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a sword, damn it, a sword!¡±


    I¡¯m really starting to think they¡¯re just stupid.


    ¡°Yeah, and it¡¯s even smaller than Gurd¡¯s dick.¡±


    ¡°Buzz off!¡± she shouted. ¡°I swear to Dorr, Eric, I am going to stab you in your sleep!¡±


    Definitely just stupid. And vulgar.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure you will, Shortstuff. I¡¯m sure you will.¡±


    Claire could practically hear the man¡¯s idiotic smirk.


    ¡°Quiet. This is its nest.¡±


    Niel interrupted the shouting contest as the trio came to a stop. They were only a few short steps away from the rock that Claire had hidden behind, but not a single one had been able to detect the girl that had secretly deemed them to be amongst the cognitively inept.

 Chapter 9 - First Contact II

    Chapter 9 - First Contact II


    Having silenced his companions, Niel took a brief moment to scan his surroundings. A hellhog¡¯s nest was a dangerous place and the pair he was traveling with had made enough noise to attract an army. Just like the good old days. Eric and Meg had always been loudmouths and the Rite of the Lost Library had hardly affected either of their personalities. In the past, all members of the trio had possessed the power needed to justify their lack of caution, but they were true veterans no longer. The ritual had robbed them of much of their power.


    Their ability scores were still intact and inflated for their class levels, but their experience worked against them more often than not. The habits they developed no longer suited their new armaments. Attempting to nock a nonexistent arrow onto a blade would only lead to self-harm, after all.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s gone.¡±


    Niel narrowed his remaining eye. It took the largest of the three werebears¡ªthe only one who was transformed¡ªan extended period of time to conclude that the lair¡¯s master was away. With all the racket they made, the predator would have already attacked had it still been nearby. That much, he was certain of, but he had still needed a few extra moments to confirm its absence. The permanent loss of his ability to see everything around him had left him jumpy and spineless. At times, he felt as frightened, skittish, and powerless as a motherless cub.


    ¡°This one¡¯s made a lot of kills. It¡¯s likely close to fifty,¡± Niel said.


    He settled his gaze on the beast¡¯s bone collection. Or at least he tried. His eye kept darting around the room, stopping him from focusing on it entirely. Something seemed off. The skeletal remains of the hog¡¯s prey were scattered throughout the alcove. Most of the blood-drinking swines preferred to keep their belongings stuffed away in a corner.


    ¡°Fifty!? We have to get out of here. Now!¡± shouted Meg.


    Evidently, Niel wasn¡¯t the only ex-Abyssal Marksman with crippling anxiety. Meg had started backing out of the recess with her shortsword drawn. The bravery she possessed during her time as a soldier was nowhere to be found. Had they still been what they were two years ago, Niel would¡¯ve dismissed the obvious display of unease as a joke. A hellhog a few levels shy of its ascension would have been nothing to them, a minor inconvenience that could be dispatched with a single arrow. But now, the famed sharpshooter was a mere apprentice to the blade. And she would never be able to wield a bow ever again.


    ¡°The fuck do you have your panties in a knot for, you pathetic twat?¡±


    Unlike the berserker, the party¡¯s priest wasn¡¯t willing to hold his tongue. He too had been forced to give up both his classes, but he hadn¡¯t taken it nearly as hard as everyone else. For Eric, losing everything was just another everyday occurrence; his crippling addiction to risky gambles was concerning to say the least.


    ¡°Knock it off, both of you. We¡¯ll be fine as long as we leave before it comes back.¡±


    Neil pacified the two for the hundredth time as he leaned over and began inspecting the hog¡¯s collection. He wanted, needed, to sort through it. To confirm that it hadn¡¯t done Gurd in.


    Oddly enough, a chill ran through his spine as he started to pick up and examine the various remains. It was like what he felt when his All Seeing Eye picked up on a hostile observer or enemy spy. He knew it was impossible that the skill had returned to him, but he snapped to attention and examined his surroundings regardless, his eyes as vigilant as they could be.


    ¡°Calm the fuck down, you dumb, furry cyclops. There ain¡¯t shit here.¡±


    Eric gave him a reassuring pat on the lower back as he and Meg joined the tallest bear in the tedious, clerical task of sorting through the various bones.


    ¡°I think some dumbass tried fucking with it.¡± Eric spoke up again almost immediately, and not to hurl an insult at one of his companions. It was a rare occurrence, but a welcome one. ¡°And it ain¡¯t been long since he¡¯s fucking done it too.¡±


    ¡°What makes you say that?" asked Meg.


    ¡°This fucker right here.¡± He raised the crushed skull of an eggeye. ¡°You see how it¡¯s still got bits and pieces of flesh on it?¡±


    ¡°What about it?¡± asked Meg.


    ¡°Dumb twat.¡± Eric lightly chucked the skull at her. ¡°Use that damned head of yours and think about it. How many hellhog nests have we raided? And how many of the fat fucks have had any dirty bones lying around?¡±


    He picked up another, cleaner looking cranium and started spinning it on his index finger.


    ¡°None of them, now that you mention it.¡± Meg took a long hard look at the skull, then set it down in front of her.


    ¡°Aye, they love keeping their shit clean. You know how these creepy ass sniffers start using bone armour when they ascend? I reckon it¡¯s ¡®cause of that.¡± Eric set his skull down such that it was looking Meg in the eyes. ¡°Only way one would leave its shit like this is if it got pulled out of its nest ¡®cause some unlucky dumb fuck decided to piss it off while it was eating.¡±


    ¡°Do you think it might have been Gurdy?¡±


    ¡°Might¡¯ve.¡± Eric flashed a glance at Niel. ¡°You okay, One-eye? You haven¡¯t said jack since I started explaining shit to the bimbo.¡±


    ¡°I think I found Gurd.¡±


    The largest of the three werebears raised his hand to his face, covering his eye as he slowly shook his head from side to side.


    ¡°Bullshit. You¡¯ve been staring at a wall, and we both know your blind ass can¡¯t see jack through them anymore.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s there. In the corner.¡±


    He pointed to a werebear skull with a pair of silver prosthetic fangs. The unmistakable trait belonged to the leader of their regiment. He lay still now, as defeated as the kingdom he had once served.


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    ¡°No! Not Gurdy!¡±


    Meg stumbled over to it, picking it up in her hands. She nearly dropped it, twice, as she looked over its features. Her trembling was even more intense than Niel''s. But neither of them had any tears to shed. Not after the war.


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ hell. I can¡¯t believe it. Slippery old Gurdy¡¯s got himself killed.¡±


    Even Eric was shaken. Gurd had been the only one of them to unlock a Llystletein class. And the only one to look as if he had a shot at escaping. A shot at avenging the Queen of the Gorgons.


    ¡°I think this was his camp,¡± spoke Niel in a hushed tone, ¡°before the beast took it from him.¡±


    He pushed aside a haphazardly stacked pile of corpses to reveal something that had caught his eye, a few pieces of wood and several bits of scattered cloth, remnants of a tent. There was even what looked to be a chair that had been violently destroyed, no doubt the hog¡¯s work. The crimson stains covering the material led Niel to suspect its involvement in Gurd¡¯s death.


    ¡°We should back the fuck out, and soon,¡± said Eric, seeing both his party members too stunned to act. ¡°We can put him to rest once we get our asses back to the goddamn citadel.¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­ yes. Let¡¯s.¡± Niel took a few deep breaths, then placed a hand on Meg¡¯s shoulder. ¡°He was the best of us, Meg. Killing something that got him is beyond us.¡±


    With a slow nod, the party¡¯s sole female turned around. Her head was still hung and her whole body still shaking. He sympathized with her. Hell, even Eric sympathized with her. The former vagrant had refrained from referring to their dead companion with one of the usual rude nicknames. And that was certainly not something the man was known to do.


    ¡°Alright, fuck, fine lady, fine.¡± Seeing the look on her face, Eric sighed. ¡°If you feel that bad about just leaving the fucker that got him, then we can at least delay the spiny fuck¡¯s ascension. Won¡¯t undo what he did to old Gurd, but it should still be a kick in the nuts.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯d mean staying for another ten to fifteen minutes. It¡¯s risky, but I wouldn¡¯t be against it,¡± said Niel.


    ¡°Me either,¡± whispered Meg.


    ¡°Then help me get all its shit together. And be quick about it, we need to get the fuck out the second we¡¯re done.¡±


    The trio spent a few minutes putting everything but what they identified as pieces of Gurd¡¯s skeleton in a pile. The bones that clearly belonged to him were instead taken by Niel, who put them in his pack for safekeeping.


    Once they were done, they stepped back and allowed Eric to work his magic. Literally. The priest called upon his God¡¯s divine might to set the osseous matter ablaze.


    The act once again led Niel to feel a chill. He was practically convinced that they were being watched. But no matter how much he looked around, he wasn¡¯t able to find anything. In the end, he dismissed the sensation. He wasn¡¯t in the mood to care about the tricks his mind was playing on him.


    ___


    Claire was miffed. The strangers had, for whatever reason, chosen to destroy her bone collection. Granted, it didn¡¯t exactly belong to her and she was already done with it anyway, but that didn¡¯t make her feel any better about its loss. In her mind, she still had a claim to it. She had been the one to slay its previous owner, after all.


    ¡°At least I got here before them,¡± she mused, as she tightened her grip on her newly acquired bone club.


    Contrary to her expectations, all three of the group¡¯s members had been of the same race. She recognized them almost immediately as werebears even though it was her first time seeing them. Like most other beastkin, they were anthropomorphic and possessed a humanoid body plan. Their identifying traits were their rounded ears and their thick, fuzzy arms. The latter was much more easily recognizable. Their paws remained present even in their more human-like forms, the result of which was a race-wide loss of dexterity. In exchange, they gained the strength to snap the spines of grown men barehanded, a trait well documented in many a bard¡¯s songs. Another of their well-known racial characteristics was the ability to transform into a hulking ursine beast, a state of greater power and energy. Most refrained outside of combat as it increased the need for food and sleep, but evidently the largest member of the group didn¡¯t quite care for that particular weakness. He had remained in his grizzlier form since she first noticed him. The Tracking skill convinced her that the beastman was well over a thousand pounds. He was so bulky that he likely could have crushed her with his weight alone.


    The other two weren¡¯t any less intimidating. The female was far too light on her feet for someone with as much girth as she had height. Despite her gut claiming otherwise, her extremities seemed to suggest that her body was made of pure muscle. Her well defined arms and legs proved that her excessive width came not just from a lack of restraint at the dinner table.


    Finally, there was the man that seemed to be in a perpetual state of annoyance. He had demonstrated, by cremating her resource pool, that he was powerful enough to erase all traces of her with a wayward spell, and the combination of his shaved head, lengthy neckbeard, and maddened gaze led her to believe he wouldn¡¯t be against the idea of putting that theory to the test.


    Still, she¡¯d been angry enough to at least entertain the idea of attacking them out of pure spite, which, much to her annoyance, had seemed to trigger the largest man¡¯s reflexes. He failed to spot her on both occasions, but the way he started looking around proved that he had at least picked up on her hostile intentions. She felt lucky to have remained undiscovered throughout the party¡¯s visit.


    With the group¡¯s departure came a set of choices. The one that immediately came to mind was revealing herself, but she dismissed it without a second thought. While they didn¡¯t quite seem like they would be overtly hostile, she knew there were too many unknowns to approach them without potentially putting herself in danger. Hence, there were only two real options, to follow, or to continue going about her own business. And the latter was the clear winner.


    Stalking them seemed like a viable choice, but also a silly one. The man named Niel had proven far too sharp for her to stay hidden forever, and she was by no means ready for a face-to-face encounter. Her reason came in one simple immutable form: her appearance. Though she recognized that being a halfbreed meant she didn¡¯t have a plump, beautiful tail like her mother, nor thick, defined legs like her father, she still felt like she was every bit a fair maiden. The few scales she did have shone a beautiful shade of blue, and her ears were both shapely and well-endowed. They were so long that they would touch her shoulders each time she fluttered them. She was well aware that they drew gazes of envy and passion alike, neither of which she wanted to see while alone with a group of ruffians.


    In the past, Claire had always been convinced that her charms were strictly an advantage. But now, she was starting to doubt the belief¡¯s legitimacy. The adventurers were unlikely to take her for anything but an intelligent shapeshifter, no matter what she claimed. Worse yet was that her safety wouldn''t be guaranteed even if they did believe her. She was worried that the group was more likely to do to her what the spirit in her mind so desperately wished to do to the catgirl he had in his magical box. And somehow, that was only one of a few things that could go wrong. She knew how it felt to be gazed upon by those that detested the mixing of blood. Not all the manor¡¯s guests had treated her with respect, even in spite of her position. It was possible that the trio would wish to purge her upon seeing through her impure heritage.


    Still, she remained incredibly curious about the citadel. Their mentions of it had brought to mind the image of a stronghold or perhaps even a civilization that somehow managed to establish itself within a dungeon known to have claimed tens of thousands. She wasn¡¯t the slightest bit interested in the settlement''s history, but the thought of exploring such a place filled her with a sense of wonder. She was incredibly tempted to investigate it, even if it meant putting herself at risk.


    After a bit of an internal debate, Claire¡¯s better judgement ultimately won out. She made a mental note of the direction that the group had moved in, then turned around and headed the other way.


    Auditing the citadel was going to be somewhere on her agenda. But first, she would have to grow strong enough to ensure her own safety.

 Chapter 10 - First Contact III

    Chapter 10 - First Contact III


    Claire found herself stopping once every few moments to focus on the trio that had departed her now empty armoury. Though she had already dismissed the idea of following them, she still felt the urge to at least sniff out their tracks. Knowing more about their route would make it easier for her when she got around to investigating their destination. The thought of keeping an eye on them almost seemed to flip a switch in her mind. The corresponding skill activated immediately, and she suddenly found herself with knowledge of their locations. She couldn¡¯t quite pinpoint them, but she knew what direction they were in and how far away they were. The sense was rather sharp at first, when they were still close, but it grew vaguer as they got further away.


    It didn¡¯t take long for her to start to feel like she had to strain herself in order to keep a grasp on their whereabouts, but she didn¡¯t mind. If anything, she appreciated the challenge. The added difficulty appeared to aid her in acquiring a better understanding of the skill and its use.


    Log Entry 506


    Tracking has reached level 2.


    I guess I wasn¡¯t just imagining it.


    The skill level expanded her tracking range and allowed for a more precise estimation of her quarry¡¯s location, but she lost track of the group shortly after nonetheless. It wasn¡¯t a surprise as they were going in opposite directions, but it still came as somewhat of a disappointment. Given how quickly the first skill level had come, the halfbreed had felt a strong desire to pursue a second, but she stopped herself short. She knew that she would likely continue to use the urge as an excuse to keep following them if she was to give in even once. Shaking her head to purge the thought, she took a few slow, drawn-out breaths and continued along her way.


    It only took another minute or so to reach her sleeping quarters. Safe and settled, she set down her latest acquisitions and examined them. Most seemed fairly usable without tampering. The only exception was her spear, which she had yet to assemble. It looked fairly simple at first, as there was a socket near the bottom of the three-pronged bone, but putting it together proved far more difficult than simply slotting it in. Neither epiphyses was thin enough to fit.


    With a sigh, Claire set the speartip back down, grabbed a rough-looking rock, and began grinding away at the shaft¡¯s smaller hardened cap. It was by no means an ideal solution. She was well aware that any damage or destruction would lessen the resulting weapon¡¯s durability, but disfiguring it seemed to be the best choice. She was far better off with a spear than not, given the presence of her mastery skill.


    It¡¯s not like it¡¯s supposed to last forever anyway.


    After what felt like an eternity of grinding away at the shaft, she managed to shave away its excess girth. Sliding it into place still proved rather difficult, as she needed to press down the full weight of her body to get it all the way down, but as far as she was concerned, that was a non-issue. The halfbreed was much more comfortable with the use of brute force than she was the mind-numbing task that had preceded it.


    Finally.


    For a moment, she was relieved, happy enough to sing even the most vile god a set of praises. Her hellish task seemed like it had reached its end the moment she fastened the spearhead in place with a piece of rope, but glancing at the tip told a completely different story. All three blades were still dull. The spear would be no better than a staff if she refrained from sharpening it.


    Oh come on...


    One defeated sigh and a thousand monotonous iterations later, the half-blooded reptile lifted the weapon and gave it a few test swings. She was happy with how it turned out. It was heavier than her first spear, but she didn¡¯t find that particularly problematic. Her strength was much higher than it used to be and the added weight would enhance her blows with the power that they so desperately needed.


    Setting it down alongside the rest of her acquisitions, Claire looked over her collection expecting to feel something along the lines of enthusiasm or excitement. But all she got was a strange sense of disappointment.


    Maybe I should sharpen the club¡­


    The issue was her largest weapon. It seemed to fit in thematically at first, as it was made of bone like everything else, but its lack of an edge made it stand out like a sore thumb, and that particular problem was more easily described than addressed. The mace was more durable than any of the other boney armaments, and it likely wasn¡¯t going to change much even if she did try to sharpen it. Her earlier tests had proven that it was tougher than stone; it remained in perfect condition even after she used it to smash a random stalagmite. It wasn¡¯t as if she was simply discarding the idea because she didn¡¯t want to spend any more time with her makeshift whetstone. That would have been silly.


    The only other option was to turn it into an axe. There were a few sharp rocks laying around, with many of them being of roughly the right shape, but she didn¡¯t feel that attaching them would provide any benefits. The weapon was already hard enough for her to swing as is. Weighing it down even further would only cripple her ability to wield it. Out of ideas, Claire decided she was just going to have to live with one of her weapons being a little different than the rest.


    It¡¯s not like it bothers me that much anyway.


    Equipping her weapons, Claire gave her mossy lair one last look and set off, this time, with the goal of leveling up in mind. If she wanted to get stronger, she would need to find monsters that she could kill without putting herself in too much danger. The caveveabers were almost a viable target, as she had discovered their weakness and was fairly certain that she could take them one on one without suffering any significant damage. But there was a major caveat that prevented her from hunting the oversized rodents. She had no idea how she was supposed to isolate them. They had proven themselves capable of literally popping out of the walls, and the colony that inhabited the spiralling corridor was far too large for comfort.


    I could always retreat to my safe zone. The bubble was quite literally right around the corner. But what if one of them ends up getting inside of it before me?


    Frowning, the halfbreed concluded that the zone¡¯s proximity was a double-edged sword. If any caveveaber managed to outpace or otherwise get ahead of her, there was a fair chance that she would find her safety net invalidated and her frail, tailless body exposed to the horde.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    I guess that means I¡¯ll have to go left.


    The cave had only three exits, and as the halfbreed had no intention of interacting with any veabers or werebears, she had only a single option remaining. Her only choice was to explore the route she had taken following her arrival. And seeing no reason to reconsider, she did just that.


    Claire was well aware that she had grown significantly stronger over the course of the day she had spent in the dungeon, but that didn¡¯t mean she was willing to throw caution to the wind. Not that there was any wind within the cave system, but that was besides the point.


    The bluescale remained on guard. She would slowly poke her head around every corner before deciding whether to proceed, and she tried her best to stick to making only right turns so that she could more easily find her way back. Fairly confident in her memory, Claire felt that she wouldn¡¯t have had any issues navigating the cave system even if she navigated the intersections and openings sporadically, but she refrained.


    I don¡¯t want to have to think about where I¡¯m going if I need to run away again.


    She found her first monster shortly after her seventh right turn. It was an eggeye roughly three quarters the size of the two she had seen the previous day. Its lack of bulk wasn¡¯t the only thing she noticed immediately. Her eyes were drawn to its underdeveloped wings. They were so small that they could have easily fit in the palm of her hands.


    If that thing can fly, then I should be able to too. Maybe I should try flapping my ears¡­


    As it so happened, the winged mammal, if it could be called that, was suspended from the ceiling with its eye closed, sound asleep. What happened next was for Claire to decide.


    She was tempted to attack; the flier was as close to grounded as it ever would be and its presence in dreamland meant that it lacked the awareness it needed to evade an attack. But even then, success was unlikely. It was too high up. She couldn¡¯t reach it, no matter how hard she jumped.


    ¡°I could always try throwing something at it,¡± she said, under her breath.


    Her mastery skills came with the knowledge she required to launch her bladed weapons, but she wasn¡¯t feeling confident enough to put any of the skills¡¯ theories into practice. Her makeshift boney arsenal was malformed and uneven. There was no telling if her projectiles would land blade first or rotate out of position midflight. And that was assuming that they managed to land in the first place. Either way, it seemed like a bad idea. The bat was sure to wake up regardless of how her first strike went and its stubby wings would keep it out of her reach thereafter.


    Maybe if I could fly, like my father.


    She considered sneaking past it, but didn¡¯t feel that the risk would be worth it. There was a chance it would notice her and awaken. She had heard the bards tell tales of similar incidents. Though in those cases, the monsters were typically much more fearsome than deformed, earless bats. But that was besides the point.


    There¡¯s still a chance. He didn¡¯t have wings until he ascended either.


    Claire quietly backed away, returned to the last split in the path and headed in the opposite direction.


    Not that I¡¯d want them to begin with.


    The wise and venerable Lady was well aware that the feathery appendages were useful in a wide variety of combat scenarios, but their owners suffered in other ways. They were extremely limited when it came to clothes and equipment alike. They required unique designs and accommodations based on the precise wing structure. And much to every smith and leatherworker¡¯s annoyance, the shape and form of a wing could vary drastically amongst the ascended. Heavy weapons and plate armour were completely out of the question for all but the strongest fliers. It was difficult to accelerate while weighed down by so much metal and the wing-based accommodations often led to faults in the armour¡¯s structural integrity. That was why her father¡¯s winged warriors often returned with so many casualties; many chose to go topless in battle so that they could remain as nimble and swift as could be.


    I¡¯d much rather pick something that would let me be more like Mother.


    Taking on her reptilian parent¡¯s form came with its own set of difficulties, but it was nowhere near as egregious or otherwise difficult to deal with.


    I¡¯m getting ahead of myself.


    With all that said, it was not as if Claire was anywhere close to making a choice. She wouldn¡¯t even know what her options were until her racial class hit its first level cap. Ascension was always rather finicky and unpredictable due to the circumstantial achievement-based nature of class acquisitions, and it only grew even more confusing when rare halfbreeds were involved.


    Shelving the thought, Claire crept her way to the next intersection, which was only a few meters away, and poked her head around the corner. There was nothing of note to her right, but an odd serpentine insect was situated within the wide open corridor to her left.


    What the heck is that?


    It¡¯s body plan was surreal. Its overall form appeared to be that of a snake¡¯s. It had a snake¡¯s head, a snake¡¯s torso, and a snake¡¯s tail. But it also had something in the range of a hundred legs growing from both its flanks. Not even its head was free from the tumorous limbs. Legginess aside, the odd beast¡¯s most notable property was that its figure was thickest at its ends. Both its head and tail were as wide as Claire¡¯s hips, while the centre of its frame was unnaturally thin. If not for its hairy, segmented legs, its shadow would have been difficult to distinguish from that of a tall hourglass.


    Its form, however, was not what Claire was most focused on. Her eyes were instead drawn to its freaky antennae. Both head ornaments were pointed straight at her, turning to greet her as soon as she poked out from around the corner. And when she took half a step forward, they followed.


    The message they told was clear.


    The snake-like insect knew exactly where she was.


    She took a moment to consider her options. Despite being at least relatively well read, she had never heard of anything like the centipede snake before. The halfbreed knew nothing about its abilities or even its relative strength, but at the very least, she was able to determine that its lack of action was indicative of a lack of fear. It didn¡¯t consider her a threat. And if the corpse it was nibbling away at was any indication, it likely wasn¡¯t hungry enough to attack unless she approached.


    But as the proud owner of a set of scales herself, Claire suspected that the pseudo-ophidian wasn¡¯t as confident or almighty as it was making itself seem. Its lamella were nothing like hers, which were fine and neatly layered. Each of its individual plates was the size of her hand. More importantly, they only barely overlapped. Slipping a blade beneath one of its faulty coverings and getting at the flesh it served to protect seemed more than easy enough, and leaving a foreign entity stuck within the half-isopod¡¯s body was sure to debilitate it with pain. Splinters were the bane of all scaled creatures. Even small ones hurt more than sudden leg cramps.


    Knowing that the snake¡¯s defenses were faulty wasn¡¯t enough to prompt the halfbreed to attack. The centipede¡¯s defective armour said nothing about its offenses. But its prey did. The five-meter long bug was eating a caveveaber.


    The stone-tailed critter had been brutally beaten to death. Its body had been broken in many different places and parts of it were clearly bent the wrong way. The countless wounds signalled a slow painful demise. Not a swift execution.


    It has to be feigning confidence.


    Everything seemed to be pointing towards a single conclusion.


    The snakipede was prey, ready to be hunted.


    Taking a deep breath, Claire reached over her shoulder and drew her spear. And then, she lunged.

 Chapter 11 - First Contact IV

    Chapter 11 - First Contact IV


    Though the hourglass-shaped bug snake reared its head as soon as Claire entered the corridor, it didn¡¯t quite grasp her intentions right off the bat. It gawked at her for a good few seconds, before finally lashing out with its tail. The halfbreed was able to avoid the poorly aimed haphazard attack, but soon found herself staring a minor issue in the face nonetheless. Following through on her plan was impossible. The living hourglass¡¯ scales ran from front to back and facing it head on denied her the angle required to weave her spear through its armour. There were only two other potential vulnerabilities to attack, its face and its legs. And Claire, for reasons that did not need to be explained, chose the former.


    Given her situation, it seemed like the obvious solution. There was always the argument that the scaleless legs were easier to damage, but the head was a veritable treasure trove of weaknesses. The half-insect had an open maw, a pair of eyes, and two soft-looking antennae. Even its nostrils could have been the subject of an attack if she was feeling adventurous enough; its nose¡¯s interior was sure to be soft and unprotected.


    Claire¡¯s first target was an eye. She thrust her spear, knowing that the glowing green orb was well within reach, only to find her foe undamaged. Her aim was not at fault. The weapon had struck true. Two of its three blades had landed on target, but they left only the smallest of scratches as they slid off the unguarded organ as they would have a smooth rock.


    The monster struck at her while she was focused on her failure. Its tail came from a blind spot, clobbering her in the side and sending her crashing to the ground. Her ribs creaked under the weight of the blow, but they didn¡¯t give, no doubt in part thanks to her increased vitality.


    A second swing came immediately. Gritting her teeth, she rolled out of the way, scrambled to her feet, and got to a safe distance. The creature screeched at her as she took a moment to catch her breath, her gaze focused on the light green aperture her spear had struck.


    It isn¡¯t an eye.


    No longer in motion, the rogue realized that she had been fooled. The supposed organ that she had struck was a motionless prop.


    It almost looks like one.


    The false optical receptor featured a narrow blackened slit surrounded by dark red markings reminiscent of bloodshot veins. Both it and its pair even seemed to shimmer beneath the glow of the thousand irradiated rocks that filled the corridor. A closer inspection, however, revealed that they were not eyes. They were scales, oddly vibrant scales whose sole purpose was to throw off their beholders.


    I¡¯m such an idiot.


    The folly of falling for its mimicry could have been easily avoided had she spent any more time examining it. Her lack of patience and caution had cost her dearly. She was missing a whole fifth of her health. And she¡¯d gotten off lucky. A blow like the one she suffered could have easily debilitated or killed her had it hit her where she was more vulnerable.


    Dismissing the thought with a shudder, the rogue raised her spear and prepared for the next exchange of blows, and just in time. Having recognized that she had no intention of retreating, the living hourglass reared its head before smashing it down at her full force. It used its tail as an anchor and its own skull as a weapon, swinging it with such speed and vigour that Claire almost expected to see its narrow midsection snap. The attack was backed by enough momentum to render it a deadly strike. But also a predictable one. She was able to dodge it with a quick sidestep. Thinking herself safe, she moved to swing her spear, but stopped herself short. She dove to the ground instead, narrowly avoiding a sweep of the serpent¡¯s tail. The insect followed with another blow with its head, and then another with its rear, and so on, and so forth. It was a consistent pattern of vertical and horizontal swings, one after another. A method of attack equal parts numbingly simple and painfully effective.


    The halfbreed found herself struggling to keep up. Avoiding the incoming blows took everything she had. While there were certainly a few opportunities to counter, none proved themselves particularly lucrative; she was unable to strike at anything but scale. Just when she felt like she was going to be stuck in a series of deadly perpetual coin flips, she recalled a lesson, a solution that allowed her to escape the insufferable sequence of crippling blows.


    She raised her spear when it struck with its tail, blocking instead of dodging. But rather than holding her ground and competing with raw force, she leapt in the same direction as its strike, both to dampen the blow, and to leverage its momentum. The combined forces propelled her outside the monster¡¯s effective range and allowed her a moment to regain her composure.


    Contrary to her expectations, her spear was still intact. It was a fortuitous miscalculation, but not one that mattered, at least not right then. She cast the weapon aside and drew her club in its place, hoisting the heavy bone over her shoulder as she slid one leg forward and took a deep breath.


    When it lunged at her again, she was ready. She stepped just outside the range of a heavy vertical headbutt and drove the bone straight into the creature¡¯s skull as it entered her reach. The moment of contact was the moment she realized that her evasive maneuvers were pointless. It wouldn¡¯t have touched her, even if she had held her position. The cleaving strike she landed on its head had displaced it, knocking it a whole meter to the right. Much to her own astonishment, the attack had managed to do much more than simply deter the beast or twist a few of its scales out of place. There was damage, significant, obvious, visible damage. The scales to bear the brunt of the blow were as crumbled and broken as the legs that had occupied the right side of its face. A deep blue liquid¡ªblood¡ªoozed from its wounds, staining the beast and her mace alike.


    I was NOT expecting that.


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    Still staring with her eyes wide, it took the greenhorn a moment to chain her next strike; the heavier overhead blow she prepared came too late. Though the multi-legged freak no longer moved with its prior swiftness, it still managed to evade, leaving her mace to smash itself into the ground, leaving in its wake a small but undeniable crack in the cave¡¯s rocky floor.


    The snake bug tried bashing her with its head once more, but again, it was met with resistance in the form of a mace. This time, Claire was quick enough to deliver the crushing blow she had previously missed, smashing the front of its snout and breaking its jaw.


    Maybe I should¡¯ve chosen Barbarian after all¡­ Wait, what the heck am I thinking!? Get ahold of yourself, me! You¡¯re a proud Lady, not some uncouth Barbarian!


    She tried to finish it, but the many legged serpent skittered off before she could. It retreated all the way to the T-shaped intersection at the opposite end of the corridor before rearing up, looking at her, and screeching in anger. The sound revealed its true nature; it was one that no real snake could have ever made.


    Dagger Mastery was the only reason she was aware that it was looking at her. One of the skill¡¯s secondary effects, its ability to locate weaknesses, had finally kicked in. It revealed that the creature¡¯s eyes were hidden beneath its head. The tiny black circles, numbering eight in total, were hidden amongst its scales. She was fairly certain that it was using all eight to look at her. And she was right. It was looking at her. But what she failed to realize was that it wasn¡¯t just looking at her.


    It was aiming.


    A jet of clear liquid shot from the insect¡¯s mouth, visible only because of the way it distorted the light. She reacted, but not quickly enough to dodge it entirely. Her left arm was splashed with the runny fluid and drenched from the shoulder down.


    Wailing like a banshee, she dropped her weapon, fell to her knees, and nearly blacked out. The pain started at her arm, but it didn¡¯t end there. It rapidly coursed throughout the rest of her body, assailing it with burning despair, a constant fiery agony. It almost felt like she had been cast into a forge.


    The liquid that the hundred legged snake had spat at her was not a problem in and of itself. It was just water. Plain, old, drinkable water. It hadn¡¯t been fired at an incredible speed, nor had been concentrated to amplify its pressure. In fact, the impact itself was nothing of note, containing only the force of a gentle stream, but it pained her nonetheless. Because of its temperature.


    The water had been heated above its boiling point, forcefully kept in liquid form through magical means. Enchanted, the fluid was so scorching hot that even a brief moment of contact turned her fair skin a deep shade of red. She was literally steaming, half-cooked, half-alive. The quarter of her health that remained would have been promptly removed had her opponent not suffered from its own attack. The burning liquid it synthesized hurt it as much as it hurt her. Its throat and mouth were no longer functional. It too was suffering. But that was simply the cost that came with using a borrowed ability.


    Though they had taken similar amounts of damage, the insect was the first to recover. It was aware of the nature of its attack, and unlike her, it had managed to brace itself for the unreasonable pain. It crawled back over to her and smashed its tail into the ground, a blow heavier than any of its others. She was barely able to roll out of the way, spurred on only by the need to survive.


    The pain never receded. Her arm screamed at her and refused to follow any of her commands. Steam rose from the affected flesh, her blood literally boiling. But still, she stood. She forced herself to her feet before the next strike came. Claire didn¡¯t care that her health was mostly drained. Thirty was still more than what she had started with when she first arrived. She hadn¡¯t escaped from the manor with her life so that it could be taken by something that couldn¡¯t decide if it wanted to be a reptile or an isopod.


    Side stepping another swing, she drew an antler from her bandolier and swung at the latest chink in the freakish bug¡¯s armour. The bone pierced right through the soft-boiled scales and embedded itself into its thorax while the accompanying phantom strike created by her Double Stab skill chipped away at the centipede¡¯s health.


    Not wanting to waste any time pulling it out, she left the weapon as is and dove to the ground to dodge a horizontal sweep. The next time she rose from the floor, it was with a dagger in hand. This too was shoved into a weak spot, a small but visible eye socket.


    Though her body felt sluggish from all the damage, she was able to spin around the pseudo-ophidian¡¯s trunk and reach the back of its head with her other antler. In one swift motion, she used the sharpened bone to remove both its antennae. The result? Complete and utter chaos.


    The loss of both its thermal sight and its sense of smell caused the legged serpent to panic. It started screeching nonstop and attacking haphazardly. It was so desperate to get her off of it that it bashed its tail against the back of its own head. Even though she was no longer there. Not anymore. Claire had used the confusion to slip away from her prey and retrieve her club, the weapon that had proved itself most damaging. She dragged the oversized femur across the floor as she moved. Not by choice. She wasn¡¯t able to lift it, not with just one hand, and not while half her body felt like it had been lit ablaze. The sound it made as it scraped its way across the mossy floor was barely audible, but the insect noticed it nonetheless.


    It raised its head and pointed its eyes in her direction, and then, in what seemed to be a fit of rage, it launched itself at her. It was still accurate even without two of its senses, but the attack¡¯s wind up was significantly longer than it had been earlier in the fight. The amount of forewarning before each blow allowed her to dodge with ease.


    Dancing her way around two heavy strikes, Claire spun her body around, making use of the momentum to compensate for the loss of her second arm. The twirling strike wasn¡¯t anywhere nearly as powerful or accurate as a two-handed overhand smash, but it was still devastating enough to fulfill its purpose¡ªpulverizing the creature¡¯s thorax. Once the scales were broken, she dropped the mace in favour of the final dagger she had on her person, plunging it straight towards the source of the insect¡¯s life force. The fang pierced straight through its chest and tore its way into the false serpent¡¯s heart. She drove it as deep as she could, embedding half of its length into the blood-pumping muscle. But not deep enough.


    Even with its pulse broken, the bug attempted to shake her off and go back on the offensive, but she was one step ahead of it. She grabbed the antler stuck inside its neck and tore downwards right as the snake tried to raise its head, mutilating its flesh and leaving a meter long gash down the length of its front. Blood splattered everywhere, covering hunter and hunted alike in cerulean.


    Somehow, not even that was enough to finish it. It remained capable of movement even with its lungs hanging out of its chest. If Claire had been subjected to the same amount of punishment, she would have found herself dead three times over. She had to admit, its vitality was impressive, awe-inspiring even. But that was not going to save it. Nothing was. It couldn¡¯t beat her in close combat without all of its legs.


    It collapsed as she destroyed its lungs, her antler-sword literally gouging them out of its chest. And with one last Double Stab to the face, the battle finally drew to a close.

 Chapter 12 - First Contact V

    Chapter 12 - First Contact V


    Claire¡¯s skin began to mend itself as soon as her prey fell still. The burning agony rapidly receded, replaced by the odd tingling warmth that always came with a level. Hesitantly, she reached for the freshly repaired limb, running her fingers along the once-damaged scales with a nervous lump stuck in her throat. After clenching and unclenching her fist, several times in succession, she finally breathed a sigh of relief.


    Backing herself up into a wall, the halfbreed closed her eyes and allowed the tension to drain from her body. She slowly slid down its length, slumping to the ground as her heart finally stopped threatening to burst from her chest.


    The moment of respite was brief.


    A loud rattle made her shoot to her feet. Her eyes darted to its source as she raised the antler sword in a panic, only to roll her eyes and lower it again. The sound was nothing of note, just the clattering of a bone against the rocky floor. One of the daggers she¡¯d left inside of its body had fallen to the ground.


    Staring at the corpse, Claire furrowed her brows and frowned. It was changing. The former insect¡¯s scales and legs shriveled up and turned to sand as its frame shrank. Parts of its body lost their colour, turning translucent, while others became shinier and more metallic. Its innards, visible through its now clear, crystalline hide, shared the same fate as its limbs. They crumbled away and turned into tiny grains of weathered stone. Her second dagger, the one stuck in its heart, soon followed in the first¡¯s footsteps. Ejected from the creature¡¯s corpse, it fell to the ground and made yet another notable rattle.


    When the process was over, she was left staring at an hourglass. Not an hourglass shaped monster, but a literal hourglass. The supposedly inanimate object fit in the palm of her hand. Picking it up, she realized that its copper frame was broken and its glass bulbs visibly cracked. The damage wasn¡¯t extensive enough for the timekeeping rockdust to leak, but the miniscule amount still contained within suggested that most of it was gone with the wind.


    That was¡­ morbid. What was that thing anyway?


    Claire knew that shapeshifters returned to their original forms post mortem, but she¡¯d never heard of any that started out as literal objects, nor any capable of drastically altering their sizes during their transformations. Not that she was an expert on the subject. Or any subject, for that matter.


    Oh well, a kill¡¯s a kill. No point thinking about something I don¡¯t understand.


    Dismissing the thought with a sigh, the halfbreed put the hourglass in her pouch, sat back down, and pulled up her log. There were a series of recent acquisitions, some even earned prior to the battle¡¯s conclusion.


    Log Entry 507


    You have acquired the Club Mastery skill.


    Log Entry 508


    You have acquired the Sword Mastery skill.


    Not bad. More masteries are always welcome. The rogue vaguely recalled that one of her instructors had mentioned that she was only supposed to focus on a small number of weapon masteries.


    Why was that again? I can¡¯t remember¡­ Claire tried to recall the lesson for the briefest of moments before dismissing it with a shrug. Oh well. I don¡¯t care what Durham thinks anyway. He¡¯s an idiot. What kind of halfwit tries to teach someone with two legs martial arts for people with four? And he even had the nerve to yell at me when I couldn¡¯t imitate his form.


    Shaking her head free of the fool and his memory, Claire turned her eyes back to the glowing blue box.


    Log Entry 509


    You have slain a level 4 Llystletein mimic.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 3 points of agility


    - 1 point of dexterity


    - 8 points of strength


    - 2 points of vitality


    Oh, that¡¯s what it was. I thought mimics were supposed to look like treasure chests. Wait... It was only level 4? That can¡¯t be right. It was stronger than the level 20 caveveaber. Claire double checked the entry to make sure it was correct, which apparently it was. She hadn¡¯t misread any part of the message. Maybe having Llystletein in its name makes it special?


    Log Entry 510


    One of your spawnable drink items has been upgraded.


    Log Entry 511


    Achievement Unlocked - Llystletein Hunter


    You have started on the path of a true Llystletein Hunter by single-handedly defeating a Llystletein monster. You understand that while numbers provide safety, solitude and risk serve as fuel for self-improvement.


    Log Entry 512


    Rogue has mutated into Llystletein Rogue.


    What¡¯s the difference?


    All Rogue bonuses have been doubled. Your agility has been increased by 5 and your dexterity has been increased by 20.


    Oh.


    You have gained 6 ability points.


    The following Llystletein Rogue skill has been acquired: Manathief.


    Manathief? That seems a little unnecessary. Maybe if I was still a mage...


    Log Entry 513


    Cloak and Dagger has reached level 2.


    Log Entry 514


    Club Mastery has reached level 2.


    That was quick.


    Log Entry 515


    Dagger Mastery has reached level 3.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Log Entry 516


    Makeshift Weapon Mastery has reached level 3.


    Log Entry 517


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Halfbreed, has reached level 12.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Rogue, has reached level 11.


    Woah, 1 Halfbreed level, and¡­ 4 Rogue levels? That¡¯s a lot of experience for a level 4 monster.


    Your agility and dexterity have been increased by 10.


    You have gained 14 ability points.


    The following Halfbreed skills have been acquired:


    - Quadrupedal Bloodrush


    - Lashing Tailstrike


    Halfbreed skills? Finally.


    Claire smiled to herself. Her first set of racial skills was long overdue. Most others obtained them at level 1, halfbreed or otherwise. She, however, had been an unfortunate exception. But no longer. The disadvantage wrought by her lack of racial abilities was finally over. It had come time for her to leverage in battle the traits associated with her unique heritage¡ªor at least that was what she thought at first. Her impression changed the moment she reread the skills¡¯ names.


    ¡°Wait, I don¡¯t have four legs! Or a tail! Why am I getting skills I can¡¯t use!?¡± She shouted, as she hurled a rock at a nearby wall. ¡°Why does this stupid box have to be as dumb as Durham!?¡±


    Still huffing, the rogue turned her eyes back towards the rage-inducing interface. She crossed her arms, narrowed her gaze, and began repeatedly tapping a foot against the ground as she glanced over the details of her new class.


    Llystletein Rogue


    Unlike their standard counterparts, who work best in parties, Llystletein Rogues are lone wolves. They seek and destroy without assistance, no matter what their prey may be. The power and self-sufficiency that come with this class variant stem not from experience, but necessity. Llystletein Rogues are, without exception, socially inept and incapable of effective communication. Please note that seeking a therapist will result in this class¡¯ immediate revocation.


    Becoming a Llystletein Rogue doubles all Rogue-based ability score boosts, including those that have already been awarded. Llystletein Rogues will also gain additional bonuses on the 25th and 50th levels.


    Possible class upgrades include Assassin of the Lost Library, Llystletein Edgelord, and Incontinent Librarian, amongst others.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Unlock the Rogue Class


    - Actively avoid a social interaction while suffering from extreme social anxiety


    - Single-handedly dispatch a Llystletein monster with an ability score total at least 2 times greater than your own.


    ¡°W-what are you talking about, Box? I do not have a communication disorder.¡±


    Claire spent a few moments staring at the description with her brow furrowed. She knew that she had never been a social butterfly, but she¡¯d never been under the impression that her communication skills were in any way deficient. That said, she couldn¡¯t deny that she had only avoided the werebears because she didn¡¯t feel safe around them. Oh no¡­ What if it¡¯s true?


    No, no, it can¡¯t be. I¡¯m a better negotiator than half of those greasy old men. Or at least I think I am¡­ What if I¡¯m not? Aaahhhhh!


    Only after nearly ten minutes of self-persuasion did she manage to convince herself that there was nothing wrong with her. And with that ordeal out of the way, she moved on to inspecting her newly acquired skills.


    Manathief - Level 1


    As a blueblood, you have lived a life sustained by remorseless thievery. You have stolen endlessly from the masses and given nothing in return. Now, your legacy as the Leeching Lady shall continue in the form of a skill. You will steal as you have never stolen before, taking from their very souls the energy they require to sustain their magics.


    Effects


    - Phantom strikes are now capable of recovering mana equal to 12% (10% + 2% per level) of the damage dealt.


    - The maximum amount of mana that can be recovered from each damage instance is capped at 55% (50% + 5% per level) of the cost of your Double Stab skill.


    This skill was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Double Stab level 3 or higher.


    - Llystletein Rogue level 10 or higher.


    - Make use of stolen properties on multiple occasions.


    An explicit requirements section? I¡¯ve never seen one of these before.


    Club Mastery - Level 2


    Acquiring this skill has bestowed you with the knowledge that sharpened weapons are better than blunt ones. Please stop making stupid excuses and sharpen your club. Watching you is giving me an aneurysm.


    Well, that¡¯s too bad, Box. You¡¯re just going to have to live with your aneurysm.


    Effects


    - Unlocks club-based skills.


    - Improves your technique with the club.


    - Increases damage dealt by 12% (10% + 1% per level) when attacking with a club.


    - When wielding a club, strength is improved by 12% (10% + 1% per level) of the sum of all your other ability scores.


    Sword Mastery - Level 1


    The way of the sword is one of elegance and grace. And while you are not particularly proficient at exhibiting either of these noble qualities, your past experience with the blade has allowed you to clumsily apply the necessary techniques. Unfortunately, the reacquisition of this skill is incapable of reawakening one of the only latent talents you¡¯ve ever had. You are just going to have to live with never becoming a Sword Dancer.


    Did this stupid vindictive box just do what I think it did?


    Effects


    - Unlocks sword-based skills.


    - Improves your technique with the sword.


    - Increases damage dealt by 11% (10% + 1% per level) when attacking with a sword.


    - When wielding a sword, dexterity is improved by 16% (15% + 1% per level) of your strength, and strength is improved by 16% (15% + 1% per level) of your dexterity. Agility is improved by 5.5% (5% + 0.5% per level) of the sum of your strength and dexterity. This effect does not benefit from its own bonuses.


    Quadrupedal Bloodrush


    You cannot use this skill because you do not have four legs.


    Effects


    - N/A


    What the heck? It doesn¡¯t even have a description!


    Lashing Tailstrike


    You cannot use this skill because you do not have a tail.


    Effects


    - N/A


    Come on! At least tell me what it¡¯s supposed to do!


    After throwing another rock at the wall, Claire decided that it was time to move on. If her halfbreed class wasn¡¯t going to provide her with any real power, then she would just have to rely on Llystletein Rogue instead. Fortunately, it seemed she was going to be able to do just that. The class variant¡¯s description had made it out to be incredibly powerful, and she suspected that she was likely to unlock many useful skills so long as she continued leveling it¡ªassuming she managed to fulfill their requirements, of course.


    With that precise goal in mind, she got to her feet, gathered her belongings, and continued her exploratory trek.


    Claire


    Health: 144/144


    Mana: 576/576


    Health Regen: 24/hour


    Mana Regen: 320/hour


    Ability Scores - 20 Points Available


    - Agility: 42


    - Dexterity: 61


    - Spirit: 57


    - Strength: 30


    - Vitality: 24


    - Wisdom: 160


    Racial Class: Halfbreed - Level 12.94


    - Quadrupedal Bloodrush - Level 1.00


    - Lashing Tailstrike - Level 1.00


    Primary Class: Llystletein Rogue - Level 11.47


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 2.12


    - Double Stab - Level 3.57


    - Manathief - Level 1.00


    Unclassed Skills


    - Club Mastery - Level 2.19


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 3.14


    - Dancing - Level 5.24


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 2.83


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 3.75


    - Marish - Level 18.98


    - Sneaking - Level 3.97


    - Spear Mastery - Level 1.82


    - Sword Mastery - Level 1.05


    - Tracking - Level 2.61

 Chapter 13 - First Contact VI

    Chapter 13 - First Contact VI


    Claire wandered around the dungeon with no particular destination in mind. She had tried sticking to right turns at first, but a brief period of exploration convinced her that it was impossible. The path was often blocked by monsters that she didn¡¯t quite feel ready to tackle, the most terrifying of which had been a pair of hellhogs in the midst of a conflict. She had been tempted to wait and see if the duel¡¯s winner came out crippled, at first, but shelved the idea upon realizing that the contest was more of a friendly squabble than a life-threatening duel. They had only charged at each other, bashing their heads together. Neither used any of the deadlier tools that were their arms, jaws, or spines.


    Maybe it¡¯s some sort of primitive ritual...


    Every other monster she encountered was an eggeye. The ovular bats could be found hanging from the ceilings both in isolation and in groups of up to ten. Much to her surprise, most looked more like the tiny-winged one she¡¯d found than the two that had fallen to the hellhog. She had no idea how threatening they would be in combat, but she erred on the side of caution and did her best to avoid them.


    Wait¡­ did I just go right or left?


    All the twisting, turning, and backtracking made it difficult for Claire to recall exactly which paths she had taken and not even all the baseless confidence in the world could bolster her memory to the point of serviceability. That said, she wasn¡¯t without a solution. Recalling that the moss wouldn¡¯t regenerate, she began leaving a mark at every crossroads she passed, an arrow pointing in the direction of her origin. Returning to her safe zone was made as easy as following the markings carved into the floor.


    The seemingly extraneous amount of effort that the halfbreed spent tiptoeing about wasn¡¯t without benefit. Sneaking reached level 5 by the time the environment around her began to change. At its base, it was still just a system of caves, but the further from her bedchamber she got, the brighter and greener her surroundings became. Grasses covered the floors and vines ran along the walls. She even spotted the occasional root hanging from the ceiling, each of which was covered in a layer of soil whose origins went unexplained.


    Why are there so many plants? And where is all this light coming from?


    Claire was unable to make any meaningful deductions. The only thing she knew for certain was that the glowing rocks had nothing to do with the shift in the environment.


    They¡¯re not any brighter than the ones in my safe zone. I think they might even be dimmer.


    Accompanying the change in the landscape was an equally drastic change in the soundscape. While both the dripping of water and the odd cave-sound were still present, they were no longer her main focus, overpowered by the skittering of critters and the grinding of teeth against stone. She could tell, even without the use of her eyes, that there were caveveabers lurking within the walls. Seeing no reason not to proceed, the halfbreed followed her ears, tracking the rodents to their source.


    A few twists and turns later, she found herself gazing at a large, spiralling corridor, much like the one that had led her to the horse-faced knight. This time, the passage led upwards, its distant peak too far away for her to see with the naked eye. Another stark difference was that it was more open, its shape much closer to that of a hollow cylinder than an upside down cone. The ascending pathway hugged the walls circling the room¡¯s exterior, leaving the center wide open, empty, save for a system of roots that seemed to extend all the way from the ceiling.


    Claire paused for a moment to consider her options. She had no idea how many veabers there were in the corridor, but the amount of skittering gave the impression that the precise headcount was somewhere between a lot and too many. Either way, there was likely to be a wave of bodies that she would find impossible to stand against. But there was also an escape route.


    The mass of plants was only about ten meters out from the edge. She was confident she could leap off the path and stop herself from falling by grabbing one of the many woody tendrils that extended from the room¡¯s centerpiece, even if the veabers threatened to overwhelm her. That, of course, was no reason to take an unnecessary risk, but her curiosity drove her forward. An itch in the back of her mind was bothering her to no end. She was dying to know what there was to be found at the top of the twisted slope. Not literally, of course. Or at least she hoped not.


    I bet there¡¯s a beautiful meadow up there. Or maybe even a forest. I wonder what monsters I¡¯ll find.


    With a shake of the head, she rid herself of her speculatory thoughts and began the ascent. Her gaze remained focused on her left side. She was convinced that the wall was more dangerous than the pit. Needless to say, she was just as wrong as usual.


    An aggressive croak drew her attention to the right after an uneventful period of walking. What awaited her, as she turned her head, was a creature bizarre enough to make her freeze in place. It was somehow both a frog and not a frog at the same time. Its head looked exactly like that of an adult tadpole. It had large, bulging eyes on either side and a mouth that made up its entire face. Four limbs, each ending in a sucker-tipped foot, extended from its sides. Its colours were frog-like too. The top half of its body was a brownish green, while the bottom was a pale muddy white. But that was where the similarities ended. For some odd reason, it had antlers. The sharp jagged objects extending from its skull resembled the makeshift blades Claire had strapped to her bandolier. The only major difference was that the frogs¡¯ blades were still covered in a layer of velvet. Decorating its opposite end was a pudgy tail as long as the rest of its body combined, curled up for storage like that of a chameleon. Though these two features were bizarre, they weren¡¯t by any means its most unfrog-like. The oddest body parts it possessed were its wings, all three pairs of which appeared completely out of place. Two grew from its back legs, and one from its front, all attached to its joints. The white feathered appendages made up the vast majority of the frogs¡¯ volume, nearly tripling its total size. Evidently, its wings were fully functional, as it was hovering in the air roughly five meters out from the helix¡¯s edge.


    How are its wings so quiet? It¡¯s like an owl.


    They stared at each other for a few seconds, after which the frog determined that, as the larger of the two entities, it had nothing to fear. It leisurely opened its mouth and fired its 10 meter long tongue like a harpoon. As if to compensate for the muscular organ¡¯s sudden extension, the frog¡¯s curled tail retracted, sucked into its body and completely hidden from view. It was a powerful strike, containing enough force to drill straight through the stone wall.


    Though Claire had evaded the anuran¡¯s first attack, she had no idea how she was supposed to take it down. It was keeping itself level with the ground, but it was too far out for her to reach without jumping off the stone helix. Many would have argued that, in Claire¡¯s situation, the wisest choice would have been to turn around and sprint away at top speed, but the halfbreed saw no sense in such an evasive solution. She instead followed through on the sensible decision and leapt at the monster with all the force her legs could muster.


    I can reach it. It¡¯s not that far.


    Evidently, the frog was in accord with those that would have advocated retreat, as it was caught completely off guard by the sudden rush. It wound up with a club in its face and its skull caved into its freshly destroyed brain before it could even finish reeling its tongue back into its tail.


    Is it dead?


    Claire shot a glance at her log as she grabbed onto the nearest root. Surely, there was an entry confirming her kill. Her suspended position made it so she had to squint to focus on the pale blue box, but she went ahead and read through the latest entries anyway.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Log Entry 520


    You have slain a level 19 feathered frogpole.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 1 point of strength


    - 1 point of wisdom


    That was easy. Must be because of Club Mastery.


    Log Entry 521


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Halfbreed, has reached level 13.


    You have gained 6 ability points.


    Log Entry 522


    You have unlocked a new spawnable food item.


    Better not be frog legs.


    Claire grimaced as she recalled the springy texture of boiled frog meat. She could never stand the hard, chewy skin. The way it tugged on her fangs and got stuck between her teeth always made her shudder in revulsion. Even just thinking about it made her flinch and nearly lose her grip.


    I should get back to solid ground.


    Reminded of her less-than-ideal position, Claire kicked off the sturdy, wooden tendril and launched herself back towards the path. She landed perfectly, a display of dexterity that surprised even the halfbreed herself. She had expected to suffer a few points of damage, given the distance that she fell, but her legs remained perfectly intact. One full rotation¡¯s worth of height was all she lost. It would take her a few minutes to recoup the time spent.


    It was worth it. That was an easy level. Looking over the side of the path, Claire frowned. It¡¯s too bad I didn¡¯t grab it in time.


    The corpse had wound up a bloody broken mess as it hit the ground. She had wanted to retrieve its antlers to bolster her arsenal.


    They¡¯re probably broken, and I¡¯m not going to make a round trip just to check.


    Once back to her previous elevation, Claire took a moment to examine the hole left behind by the monster¡¯s tongue. The hole was much wider than it was tall, with the latter dimension being roughly equal to that of one of her thighs. As there weren¡¯t any glowing rocks within the walls, she couldn¡¯t see too far in, but she was at least capable of noting an unreasonable number of veaber-sized holes leading in what seemed to be completely random directions. She wanted to learn more, but one of the cave dwellers decided to grace her with its presence before she could. The rodent didn¡¯t seem interested in anything beyond just passing by at first, but for reasons far beyond her understanding, the fuzzy critter stopped before it fully cleared the fresh opening. Its rump was placed against the hole, completely blocking off her line of sight.


    Maybe it¡¯ll leave if I just wait.


    It didn¡¯t. The oversized rat refused to budge, even after a count of sixty. That was why she made another sensible decision. She pulled her foot back, aimed, and kicked the poor veaber¡¯s butt, just as any reasonable person would.


    A string of angry, confused squeaks came from the now dislodged beast. It spun around and stuck its head out the hole to peek at its assailant, only to find itself meeting the same fate as the frog¡ªa flattened skull. The rodent¡¯s trademark incisors found themselves embedded into the stone, forever stuck lest someone chose to remove them. And it went without saying that Claire had absolutely no intention of being that special someone.


    Log Entry 523


    You have slain a level 14 caveveaber.


    Serves you right, jerk.


    Log Entry 524


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Rogue, has reached level 12.


    You have gained 2 ability points.


    I almost forgot I wasn¡¯t just a Rogue anymore.


    Claire started to proceed with extra caution after the veaber¡¯s death, glancing back at the hole every few seconds until it was finally out of sight. She was worried that more of them would stream from the walls to avenge their fallen comrade, as they had done during her first encounter.


    She did run into the occasional buck-toothed rock eater as she climbed, but most of the enemies she encountered and subsequently defeated were feathered frogpoles. The anuran predators avoided hunting in groups and were unable to put up any meaningful resistance so long as she lunged at them right after they fired their tongues. At first, she focused on using her club, which she knew was capable of killing them with one good hit to the head, but she started using her other weapons on rotation once Club Mastery reached its fifth level. Specializing didn¡¯t seem wise, given that her equipment could break at any moment; she didn¡¯t have any way of replacing it. Surprisingly, they continued to go down just as easily regardless of her weapon of choice. The frogs were nowhere near as durable as the mimic. A stab to the heart or a deep slash to the torso was always enough to constitute a fatal blow. She also discovered, through sheer happenstance, that removing more than two or more of their wings at once would cause them to fall to their deaths. Claire thought of the discovery as a happy accident¡ªa sentiment her amphibian adversaries didn¡¯t quite share.


    The only fight that had given her even the slightest bit of trouble was one where she had to take on two flying amphibians at once, and even that was easily resolved with a minor bit of leapfrog. It took a few hours for Claire to reach the top floor, during which she defeated roughly two dozen monsters. She didn¡¯t keep track of the precise kill count, nor did she bother adding them up while she was done. The only notifications she had paid any attention to were the level ups. Llystletein Rogue had finally overtaken her racial class; the two sat at 18 and 15 respectively.


    The annihilation of frogkind had generated a decent bit of experience at first, but the returns diminished rapidly as she leveled up. The worst part of all was that not a single one of the encounters beyond the first provided any feat-based bonuses.


    I¡¯m probably going to have to start hunting stronger prey if I want more levels and stats.


    Another more agreeable surprise was that the long trek hadn¡¯t left the halfbreed short on stamina. If anything, she was feeling energetic and ready for more. She wasn¡¯t even hungry, no doubt in part because the urge to sit down and eat something had been kept at bay by all the blood and guts she¡¯d been exposed to. It didn¡¯t help that she had never really liked frog meat, which according to her mother, meant her taste was abnormal. The long-tailed aristocrat would often demand that the slimy amphibians be added to her meals, regardless of where she was or who she inconvenienced.


    After recalling her mother¡¯s toothy grin¡ªand unintentionally copying it¡ªClaire stepped through the large doorway she had arrived at. She¡¯d already seen bits and pieces of the distinctly green biome during her climb, but placing herself within it made for an incomparable experience.


    The first change she noticed was that the environment opened up immediately. No longer was she within a cavern with stone walls visible on all sides. In fact, the towering cliff behind her aside, the only piece of rock visible was the tiny platform beneath her feet.


    What¡­ is this place?


    The canvas she was presented with was mind boggling. It was somehow a meadow, a wetland, and a forest all at once. The vegetation reminded her of a beautiful untamed meadow. The grasses that filled it were as high up as her waist. Their flowers, featuring crowns of all different shapes and sizes, were in full bloom, open wide to entice her approach. Strangely enough, the grasses and flowers both gently swayed in the wind as it blew by. Even though they were almost entirely submerged.


    A dark murky liquid covered nearly all of the greenery. There were reeds spread throughout, clearly distinct from the floral meadow plants due to their darker, browner hues. They were accompanied by lotuses, whose dark green leaves and pink blossoms kept much of the muddy water out of sight.


    It was an odd scene. Never before had Claire heard of an environment that was half-meadow, half-marsh, let alone one where the two contrasting concepts were integrated so seamlessly. But even that odd fusion paled in comparison to the nonsensical expanse that was the forest. The upside down forest.


    The trees grew not from the ground, but rather a second layer of soil and foliage several dozen meters in the air. The tallest individuals had their canopies reach so far that they nearly touched the marshy meadow. She was sure that she could touch them if she stretched. Somehow, when the wind blew, the leaves and fruits growing from their branches fell not towards the ground, but rather the dirt from which the trees extended. It was like gravity was reversed for the space¡¯s third biome. There were birds perched amongst the branches, squirrels bounding up the trees, and even the occasional deer dashing across the forest floor. And like the forest, they were all upside down. When she looked off into the distance, she realized that there was even a sky, one that seemed entirely fictitious and non-present while also simultaneously persistent in all three overlaid realms.


    I should keep moving¡­ but I might as well enjoy the scenery while I¡¯m here.


    With the backdrop set, the halfbreed decided that it was time for lunch.

 Chapter 14 - First Contact VII

    Chapter 14 - First Contact VII


    Claire activated Llystletein Authority as she sat down and got ready for lunch. The skill was the only way for her to acquire a warm meal. Her surroundings contained all the lumber she needed to roast just about anything she could kill, but she had no knowledge of kindling a flame, nor any experience in the culinary arts.


    Llystletein Authority


    Actions


    - Establish Safe Zone (Cooldown: 6 days)


    Spawnable Drinks


    - Cosmogoblitan (50MP)


    - Mimicosa¡î (500MP)


    - Stale Water (25MP)


    Was Mimicosa always that expensive? And why is there a star?


    Spawnable Food


    - *NEW* Fried Frogpole Wings (300MP)


    - Grilled Veaber Tail (200MP)


    - Hellhog Bolognese (500MP)


    - Pulled Orc (150MP)


    - Stale Bread (25MP)


    Wings? I¡¯m a bit skeptical because it¡¯s frog meat, but they looked more like bird wings. Maybe I should give them a try. Worst that could happen is I waste 300MP, and it¡¯s not like I have much else to spend it on.


    Her mind was set on the menu¡¯s latest entry, but she didn¡¯t summon it immediately. First, she started with a stream of stale water, which she used to wash all the blood and grime off her hands and weapons. She wanted to clean her clothes as well, but there weren¡¯t any places for her to change, nor any other clothes for her to change into.


    My dress is already ruined anyway. Thank the Gods Father isn¡¯t around to scold me about it. Again.


    She was tempted to at least give her cloak a rinse, but she refrained. She had no idea how long it would take for the ragged mantle to dry, and time was of the essence. The halfbreed wanted to spend as much of her time exploring as possible, and sitting around and waiting for her laundry would only lower the amount of distance she could cover before she needed to return to her safe zone.


    After settling for just patting herself off, Claire called forth a plate of frog wings against her better judgement. She knew that it would take a while for the dish to take form, so she closed her eyes and spent a few minutes listening to the sounds in her environment. There were nearly too many for her to make out even while fully focused. Going from an eerily silent system of caves to a loud, bastardized amalgamation of worlds left her senses so overloaded she was starting to grow irritated with her oversensitivity to sound. The rustling of grass was often overlaid with the buzzing of insects and the squawking of birds. The chirps made by the smaller critters scattered throughout the boggy meadow-forest were barely audible with all the marine life splashing about. Fish were leaping in and out of the water as they desperately strived to escape avians, crocodilians, and avian crocodilians alike. Even the aggressive croaks made by the feathered frogpoles were often covered up by the louder, more frantic barks made by their prey.


    Her eyelids slowly opened once she felt a weight in her hands. The frog wings were just as heavy as the veaber tail, albeit not for the same reason. Veaber tails were heavy because their shells were made of stone. The wings, on the other hand, had their weight come as a factor of the platter¡¯s size. The ceramic plate that formed in the halfbreed¡¯s hands was a whole meter wide.


    A set of six distinct wings made up the dish¡¯s centerpiece. They were arranged in a cascade, propped up for the sole purpose of display. Frankly speaking, the amount of food was nothing short of extraneous. Claire was hardly intent on finishing a single wing, let alone six, even if they were every bit as delicious as they looked. The feathers that had once coated the bony structures were gone, replaced by a perfectly uniform, golden brown layer of breading that not even her father¡¯s hand picked chefs would have been able to reproduce.


    There was a side dish as well, an assortment of tubers and other root vegetables, chopped up, grilled, and slathered in a fiery red sauce. An entire bowl of the crimson dressing was placed at the center of the platter, likely to serve as dip for the wings. The condiment made up the vast majority of the dish¡¯s scent profile. She could practically taste its citrusy notes, sweet and delectably sour, even prior to taking her first bite.


    The natural frog-eater tore a piece off one of the wings, dipped it into the sauce, and dug in. After taking a moment to chew the meat, she found her worst fears confirmed. It was everything she hoped it wasn¡¯t. The texture had seemed fine at first, but that particular sentiment only lasted until she got through the breading. The skin underneath was still too chewy and elastic. It lacked the fluffiness that she would have expected from a deep-fried dish. What bothered her even more than the texture was the bland yet fishy taste characteristic of frog meat. It tasted just as bad as the boiled amphibians that her mother often forced down her throat. The sauce¡¯s scent was the only reason she managed to choke the first bite down.


    Washing her mouth clean of the aftertaste with an unhealthily large dose of stale water, Claire made a vow of vegetarianism that was sure to be broken by dinner time and immediately hurled all six wings into the marsh. The local fauna proved much more capable of enjoying them. Countless tiny fish gathered around and began nibbling away at the breaded meat. One man¡¯s trash was another¡¯s treasure, after all, even if one of the men was a teenage girl and the other a school of fish.


    In time, the frog meat attracted more than just the local marine life. A group of birds swooped in and promptly began feeding on the discarded flesh. They were corvids, crows slightly larger than their non-monstrous counterparts. At a glance, they seemed relatively normal compared to everything else she had encountered in the region, but a closer inspection led her to realize that there was much more to them than their above-average sizes. They were mechanical, at least in part. Some had glowing, cybernetic eyes, while others had mechanized wings or feet. One was more machine than it was flesh, its wings the only part of it that looked even remotely organic.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    The manner in which the metal parts were put together reminded her of a smith¡¯s or artificer¡¯s work, but she knew that couldn¡¯t have possibly been the case. It was commonly known that not even celestial craftsmen were capable of turning living creatures into automata. In other words, the crows were dungeon spawn, just like everything else.


    Most of the crows were only interested in the frog wings and left as soon as the bones were picked dry. But of course, there was an exception. A single individual, the most mechanical bird in the group, appeared to recognize that Claire was the source of its meal. It hopped over to her with confidence, ruffled its own feathers, and even squawked for effect.


    ¡°What do you want?¡±


    Claire eyed the curious bird with suspicion, placing a hand on one of the makeshift daggers strapped to her thighs just in case. Likewise, the avian was also on guard. It started off roughly ten meters away and cawed at her several times before cautiously hopping in her direction.


    ¡°You can¡¯t have any more. This is mine.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t understand the bird¡¯s attempt at vocalization, but the way the feathered construct eyed the vegetables on her dish spoke clearly to its intentions.


    ¡°Come any closer and I¡¯ll hit you.¡±


    Likewise, the avian was also incapable of understanding her. Either that, or it simply didn¡¯t care for the threat, as it hopped over to the sauce-covered platter nonetheless. Claire tried to shoo it away by lightly waving her hand at it, but it leapt over the limb, onto the plate, and stole a carrot from right under her nose.


    Having decided that enough was enough, Claire drew her dagger and stabbed at the mechanical bird, only to discover that it was more agile than her. The thrusters hidden beneath its tail lit up, boosting it into the air before the bony weapon could reach. It cawed at her while flying circles overhead, as if to mock her inability to strike it down. Adding insult to injury, it deposited a large unsanitary splotch of white and black right in the middle of her unfinished dish. After confirming that its bomb had landed on target, it gave one last victorious squawk and flew off into the forest above.


    Did that really just happen?


    Claire was appalled. It took her a good few moments to process the chain of events. She looked up at the woodlands, down at her plate, and up yet again before she finally started to tremble with rage and indignance. Standing up, kicked the plate into the marsh, and without a word, began chasing after the miscreant that had ruined her meal.


    Her Tracking skill kicked in the moment she began focusing on the bird¡¯s trail. It wasn¡¯t very precise, but as far as the angry half-reptilian was concerned, knowing the direction that she needed to go was more than good enough. She was seething with anger, but her rage didn¡¯t blind her. Her mind remained functional enough and kept her clear of any monsters in her way. She did note any she hadn¡¯t seen before, of course, but only as things that future Claire would likely find herself concerned with.


    Fueling her rage even further was the rocket-powered bird¡¯s speed. It was much faster than she was; its literal rocket-fuel allowed it to speed away at a pace that she couldn¡¯t have possibly kept up with, even without any monster-shaped obstacles along her path. The bog contributed greatly to the halfbreed¡¯s lack of speed, in part because she had to wade through water of an unknown and ever fluctuating depth, and in part because it was simply uncomfortable. Her clothes were instantly soaked and dirtied by the muddy brine. Her skin wasn¡¯t faring much better either. Some of the filth even made it past the scales lining the soles of her feet, which led to a sensation even worse than when she tried walking around with wet socks in her youth. Coincidentally, that had been the last time that Claire had ever worn any sort of footwear outside of a formal setting.


    It took Claire roughly half an hour to catch up to the bird, which had covered the same amount of distance in less than a quarter the time. She didn¡¯t understand why it had suddenly stopped, but she was more than happy that it had offered her the opportunity to pursue it.


    The halfbreed reluctantly crouched low enough to cover everything but her head with swamp water as she came up on what Tracking had marked as her destination. Covering her scent almost seemed unnecessary. Sneaking was active and capable of at least partially masking it, but she didn¡¯t know how sharp the crow¡¯s senses were, and she doubted that she would be able to take it down if it noticed her before she launched an attack. It had already proven itself quick enough to evade her strikes.


    Her skill directed her eyes at a particularly tall group of trees, where she found her target sitting comfortably in its rusted cast iron nest. Strangely enough, she realized that both the bird and its home were right side up even though the tree they were in was upside down.


    The nonchalant manner the crow carried itself in only served to fuel her rage even further. She was more than willing to put it down, but even then, she found her eyes pulled towards something completely unrelated. Claire realized, upon giving her surroundings a quick once over, that there was much more to look at than a corvid in an oddly oriented oak.


    There was a building.


    She didn¡¯t see it until she got much closer. It was hidden by a set of trees whose canopies came mere centimeters from touching the marsh below. It wasn¡¯t built into any sort of clearing. If anything, it seemed abandoned, reclaimed by nature. Vines ran along its sides and many a tree¡¯s roots had pushed their way through the sand-coloured bricks. Some of the extruded stone pieces had even been outright removed by nature¡¯s might. More surprising was that the forest floor wasn¡¯t the only place where the building touched the ground. The stone tower was in contact with both surfaces.


    Unlike the base that had been ruined by the vegetation, the base that integrated itself within the marsh was clearly designed for its environment. The two meter tall rectangular entrance was too high off the ground for the bog to reach. It stood on a raised platform featuring a multi-layered doormat stitched together from dirty rags. Its placement and design practically screamed for any would-be guests to step on it and wipe off their feet. Even stranger was that both the door next to Claire and its mirror image, which opened up into the forest above, featured two distinct sets of doorknobs, one at waist level, and another at what would have been the same height if the world was flipped on its head.


    Claire couldn¡¯t wait to explore the tower, but first, she had a debt to settle.

 Chapter 15 - First Contact VIII

    Chapter 15 - First Contact VIII


    Bone daggers drawn, Claire slowly approached her target from behind. Keeping quiet was difficult, as the branches would often shake as she stepped across them, but it wasn¡¯t impossible. Sneaking was suppressing her footsteps and she was invested enough in the bird¡¯s death to give the sneak attack her best attempt. She wasn¡¯t about to let the black-winged pest escape after emptying its bowels on her lunch. Even if she hadn¡¯t exactly enjoyed the meal to begin with.


    The leaves that made up the great oak¡¯s canopy served as camouflage. Though often in the way, they were dense enough to keep her hidden from sight until she was upon the oversized crow. Her breath still held, she struck. Two blades assailed her victim, one from overhead, and another from the side. The crow¡¯s metal frame collapsed with surprising ease, failing to resist for anything more than the briefest moment before giving in and crumbling under the weight of the attack.


    Log Entry 559


    You have slain a level 4 altered raven.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 1 point of dexterity


    A raven? No wonder it seemed a bit big for a crow.


    Log Entry 560


    You have unlocked a new spawnable drink item.


    Log Entry 561


    The following Llystletein Rogue skill has been acquired:


    - Assassinate


    Claire popped open the skill¡¯s description as she wiped the oil and blood off her daggers and returned them to her thigh strap.


    Assassinate - Level 1


    The cold blooded murder of a single mother has proven that you are willing to deal death to all without remorse. Your thoughtless act of revenge has left her children without a caretaker. As they are unable to fend for themselves, the only fate that awaits them is starvation. You may as well put them out of their misery, murderer.


    Thanks Box, now I feel awful.


    Effects


    - Unperceived attacks deal an additional 60% (50% + 10% per level) damage.


    - Striking a weak spot increases this bonus threefold to 180% (150% + 30% per level).


    This skill was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Sneaking level 5 or higher.


    - Rogue level 10 or higher.


    - Slay a hostile without it becoming aware of your presence or realizing that it is under attack.


    At least the skill is nice.


    Claire moved the raven, which was surprisingly light for something made out of metal, aside and confirmed that it had indeed been a mother of four. The upside-down chicks had been sleeping, but upon detecting movement, they woke and started to cheep, begging for food.


    Did you really have to tell me about its kids, Box? She pursed her lips.


    On one hand, they were monsters that would one day find her hostile, and on the other, they were still undeveloped hatchlings completely unaware of their mother¡¯s untimely demise.


    ¡°Just put them out of their misery,¡± said a voice, from over her shoulder. It was the serpent, the one that wasn¡¯t real.


    ¡°Shut up, Shouldersnake. I wasn¡¯t asking you.¡±


    ¡°Think of the free experience. It¡¯s right there, ready to be taken.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not making a very convincing argument,¡± said Claire. ¡°Look at them. They¡¯re probably still just level 1.¡±


    ¡°All the more reason to harvest them,¡± hissed the snake.


    ¡°Whatever.¡± Claire rolled her eyes, gesturing to her other, emptier shoulder after a brief pause. ¡°What happened to her?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said the scaled noodle. ¡°But I like it better this way.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t disagree with that,¡± said Claire, with a frown.


    ¡°Enough about her. You have chicks to kill.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shut up already.¡± Claire waved a hand through the space her conversation partner occupied. ¡°Shoo, go away.¡±


    The halfbreed directed her focus back to the birds. She picked up the nearest food source, tore off a few small pieces, and dropped them into the chicks¡¯ mouths.


    Log Entry 562


    Achievement Unlocked - Nemesis of Altered Ravens


    Feeding a group of chicks the flesh of their dead mother was an outright act of blasphemy. The birds you have wronged will never forget your actions. Altered ravens will now identify you as a natural enemy of their species on sight.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Oops.


    The achievement affected even the chicks¡¯ behaviour. They began backing away from her, nearly squishing each other as they huddled up in the nest¡¯s furthest corner. Their chirping turned more aggressive, louder and deeper, and the largest pecked at her hand, its razor sharp beak drawing blood. Narrowing her gaze, she nearly considered following through on the snake¡¯s suggestion, but settled for inaction. She withdrew her hand, got down from the tree, and headed for the building that linked the two opposing realms.


    The first thing she did upon reaching it was furiously wipe her feet on the doormat. She even sat down on top of the building¡¯s porch and summoned a stream of stale water to try to get rid of the mud stuck between her scales, to little avail. A few futile minutes of struggling later, she gave up, dried her feet off, and twisted the door¡¯s lower knob.


    ¡°It¡¯s not opening¡­¡±


    Since the lower knob refused to budge, Claire tried the one that was a bit higher up, but it was the same. Both were unwilling to turn. Inspecting the door again, she confirmed that there wasn¡¯t a keyhole, nor any other obvious physical mechanism keeping it from opening.


    It¡¯s probably broken. I doubt even the Gods know when it was last used.


    Claire still needed to get the door open, even if it wasn¡¯t cooperating, and she wasn¡¯t exactly in the mood for thinking the problem through, so she chose to apply the only reasonable solution. Violence. The rogue lifted her heavy mace with both hands and smashed it against the door with enough force to tear the wooden barrier straight off its hinges. With the only obstacle removed, Claire stepped straight through the doorway and examined the building¡¯s interior.


    Her first impression was that it was halfway between a home and a disorganised workshop. A variety of different objects were strewn all over, and not because breaking the door down had caused them to fall. Clothes, mechanical parts, and tools were all given the exact same haphazard treatment. And yet, they had remained in excellent condition, no doubt in part because the wooden boards were padded with a variety of different skins and pelts, all bolted in place. In spite of the exterior¡¯s lack of maintenance, it was hard for Claire to think that the residence had truly been abandoned for long.


    Directing her gaze past the foyer led the halfbreed to cock a brow. Only half the furniture was on the floor. The remaining half was upside down, suspended from the ceiling. Some pieces were strapped down with metal clasps, regardless of whether they were on the floor or not, while others remained in place even without any additional support. Pushing on the dining table, which was fastened to the ground, confirmed that bolts weren¡¯t capable of keeping everything in place anyway. She suspected that the fitting wasn¡¯t exactly supposed to move, but two of its legs had happened to give way when she pushed on it. It clearly wasn¡¯t her fault. The unmaintained, decrepit furnishing had obviously reached the end of its serviceable life span to begin with.


    The fragility of the dinner table aside, the first discovery she made upon exploring the building was a kitchen whose pantry was as sad and barren as a desert. That wasn¡¯t to say, however, that it was without any treasures to be discovered. The rogue soon came across a series of knives still sharp and unrusted. Though they were not meant to be used as weapons, they were every bit as, if not more dagger-like than the bones strapped to her thighs, so she took them with her, knife block and all for ease of transport.


    Exploring the building and opening every door soon led her to a room repurposed as a closet, a massive walk-in wardrobe that contained a variety of clothes ready to be pilfered. None were in her size and they were all for men, but it was still far better than nothing. Claire had wanted to change out of her mud-covered attire immediately, but chose not to upon recalling that whatever she put on would wind up just as filthy the moment she stepped back into the bog. She instead focused on shoving different pieces of clothing, mostly cloaks, into a large leather pouch she found in the room¡¯s corner. Unlike the smaller bag that hung from her waist, her newly discovered satchel had a strap that allowed her to suspend it from her shoulder. More importantly, it housed roughly ten times the total volume. Clothes and bag aside, she pocketed a tailor¡¯s toolkit, which had been sitting around atop of a shelf near the entrance. The needles and thread would surely come in handy should she need to repair anything.


    After making her way through the rest of the house and finding nothing noteworthy, Claire walked back downstairs so she could grab some of the tools she had spotted on her way in. She had no idea what they were, but they had seemed like they were durable enough to serve as weaponry. Casually returning to the first floor, however, led instead to a run in with a person. A dog person.


    The husky-headed man was tall and muscular, standing at twice her height and over one and a half times her width. Though beardless, he had an impressive moustache that grew far beyond his face. Its edges curved towards the floor, as if to resemble an exaggerated frown. At first, he had been scratching his incredibly messy hair while he examined the broken table, but his gaze snapped to her as she stepped out of the stairwell and onto a creaky wooden board. The dog man¡¯s eyes shone with an odd red light. It was artificial, mechanical and unnatural just like those of the altered raven sitting between his ears.


    ¡°Who are you? And why have you broken into my home?¡±


    She had expected his voice to be a low, intimidating growl, but instead, it was oddly metallic, synthetic even. Noting the odd voice pulled her from her trance. She grabbed the nearest object, a hammer strapped to a nearby wall, and chucked it at him full force as she made a mad dash for the exit.


    He evaded it and grabbed her by the arm before she could escape, the force of his grip making it no secret that he was many times stronger than she was, a feature of both his stats and massive frame. But his raw power did nothing to prevent the attack that came from underneath Claire¡¯s cloak.


    She knew what people did to thieves. Her very own father was a prime example. He had always used his status as an excuse to condemn those who took from him for ¡°stealing from the whole populace,¡± after which he would promptly see them unjustly executed. No excuse or justification was ever considered. Bearing witness to this behaviour time and time again, Claire knew that the dog man was unlikely to give her the chance to explain herself, nor would he be particularly understanding of her circumstances.


    That was why she struck him where it hurt most. Her knee drilled itself straight into his dachshund. Assassinate activated, and because she had struck a major weakness, the attack¡¯s damage nearly tripled, rupturing the least muscular part of his body and leaving him literally frothing at the mouth and howling in pain as he collapsed.


    Log Entry 563


    Assassinate has reached level 2.


    She stabbed him in the wrist with a boney knife, wrenched her hand free, and ducked to dodge an attack sourced from the bird that had been situated above his head. Leaving him where he was, she leapt out his front door, evaded another blow from the mechanical raven, and sprinted off at top speed without a word.

 Chapter 16 - The Nights Knell

    Chapter 16 - The Night''s Knell


    Claire shook off her sole pursuer with surprising ease. The rocket-powered raven had kept up with her at first, but smacking it into the water with a kick to the wing drained all its momentum and allowed her to escape. The attack was far from optimal, made only out of convenience. It just so happened that the rogue didn¡¯t quite feel like drawing a weapon while running, dodging, and handling a wooden block stuffed full of knives. The blades were being jostled around with every step she took, and she was worried that they would fall out and stab her in the feet if she didn¡¯t use her free hand to keep them all in place.


    Log Entry 564


    You have acquired the Unarmed Combat Mastery skill.


    She didn¡¯t check the skill¡¯s details right away. The halfbreed was highly skeptical of its usefulness. She had never taken well to the barehanded martial arts, in part because Durham was an awful instructor, and in part because the concept never made sense to her. She knew monks and other similar classes specialized in unarmed combat, but even that bit of knowledge failed to change her opinion. As far she was concerned, a monk equipped with a katar was far more fearsome than an empty handed one. Push daggers were basically just pointy, elongated fists, after all.


    With that said, prejudice wasn¡¯t the only reason she had refrained from examining the skill. Her second and more important rationale was that she simply didn¡¯t feel safe. The grassy bog was too open. There was nowhere for her to hide. Anyone with a pair of eyes could easily chase her down unless she got far enough away to become indistinguishable from every other speck on the horizon.


    The conscious reminder of a potential pursuit prompted the halfbreed to activate her own Tracking skill. She focused it on none other than the hostile dogman whose home she raided, revealing that he was still more or less exactly where she left him. She didn¡¯t know if he had managed to recover in the few minutes after her departure, but she doubted it. All of her Durham-derived experience informed her that the blow had undoubtedly left him in a state too sad and sorry for him to consider chasing her down in the near future.


    Claire¡¯s pace finally slowed to a walk after about ten minutes of running full sprint, or at least as close to full sprint as she could get while wading through a marsh. She could no longer make out the man¡¯s house, so she figured that, while she wasn¡¯t exactly safe, given the nature of the environment she found herself in, she was at least in a lesser amount of danger. To that end, the rogue decided that it was time to take a bit of a break.


    She heaved a sigh of relief, found a nearby patch of grass whose roots were situated above water level, and sat down. Planting her butt into the uncomfortably moist soil, the halfbreed crammed the knife block into her newly acquired shoulder bag. It was difficult, given that it was already nearly filled to the brim, but shuffling a pair of pants into the much smaller bag hanging off her waist remedied the issue. Once that was done, she stretched her shoulders and popped open her log. But she didn¡¯t get to read through her newest skill¡¯s description. Raising her eyes to meet the text had led her gaze to something much more attention grabbing than an out of place blue box. The sky.


    The bright blue abyss had, without her knowledge, turned a shade of yellow. That, in and of itself, wasn¡¯t too concerning, at least not at first. She assumed, given the colour of the sky, that she would have more than enough time to make it back to the spiralling corridor before it set. An assumption that couldn¡¯t have been further from the truth. The daylight faded rapidly before her very eyes. It turned from yellow to orange in less than a minute and orange to black shortly after.


    A bell began to toll right as the last vestige of colour vanished from the firmament. Its deep, reverberant chimes were, simply put, jarring. It wasn¡¯t loud, but it almost seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. She couldn¡¯t understand it. It seemed to stem from the trees, the grass, the swamp, and even the inside of her own head, all at once. The constant ringing was like an attack on her mind. Every single obnoxious tintinnabulation served to assault her brain, scorching it black with an overload of information. Each subsequent magical echo grew louder, distorted her senses further, and sent her deeper into an abyss of confusion. By the fifth, she found even her proprioception affected; she couldn¡¯t tell where her feet were, only what they were touching. She folded her ears down against her head and even used her hands to push them closer, but to no avail. No matter how hard she smooshed the fuzzy triangular appendages into her skull, she was unable to cut off the distinct ringing of brass. Closing her eyes only made it even worse. Surrendering her vision led her to lose her balance and fall. But not into the swamp.


    Her cloak was scraped by a deluge of branches as she tumbled through the canopy of a large oak. After making it through a whirling dervish of sticks and leaves, she found herself with her back slammed against the tree¡¯s rock hard root. The unexpected pain caused her to loose a winded cry of pain, an eep that went unheard, drowned out by the rhythmic ringing of bells. She didn¡¯t know how many times it had tolled, but each individual ring had been long and painful enough to feel like an eternity.


    Only when it finally went silent did she manage to reorient herself. She took several deep breaths, opened her eyes, and found herself on the forest floor. Though her mind was still screaming in agony, she was able to deduce that the world had somehow been flipped on its head.


    She tore a piece off her cloak and doused it in cold stale water to turn it into a compress and resolve her migraine issue. But much to her annoyance, it didn¡¯t help. In fact, using Llystletein Authority had only made her headache worse by way of a new notification. She wasn¡¯t exactly in the mood to sift through her log, but she decided to pop it open anyway just to get rid of her latest mental irritant.


    Log Entry 565


    You have heeded the Whisper of Mirewood Meadow. The Lord of the Holt awaits those who dare to challenge it.


    That was NOT a whisper!


    A reasonably annoyed Claire punched the nearest tree. To nobody¡¯s surprise, it was an action she immediately began to regret. The thick trunk was much tougher than her fingers.


    Log Entry 566


    Llystletein Authority has reached level 3.


    You have unlocked a new action.


    At least there¡¯s good news.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    With one hand still pressing the makeshift compress to her head, she pushed herself off the ground and repositioned such that her back was against the tree she had just assaulted. Rubbing her temples with the cold moist towel helped immensely; she was able to slowly but surely work the migraine out of her system. As soon as the throbbing vanished, she found herself presented with yet another letter in her inbox. She directed her eyes to her log once again, but not before scanning her surroundings and making sure that she was alone. She would¡¯ve tried using her ears as well, but they were still too irritated for her to bother.


    Log Entry 567


    You have acquired the Detect Force Magic skill.


    Force magic?


    Having listened to bards from far and wide, Claire was relatively well educated on the different schools of magic, but the self proclaimed head librarian was the only person that she had ever heard refer to force-based witchcraft. Not even the bards had mentioned it before, in passing or otherwise. She was rather curious as to the magic¡¯s effects, and her newfound skill was the only source of information she had, so she promptly began reading through its details in earnest.


    Detect Force Magic - Level 1


    Force magic is an ancient school of magic often employed by celestials and their betters. Your prolonged exposure to and surprising but still pitiful affinity for this strain of the mystic arts has allowed you develop the subconscious ability to detect and resist it. Perhaps there is hope for you yet. I look forward to the day you stop struggling with simple tasks.


    Is it just me, or is the box being meaner than usual today?


    Effects


    - Increases your sensitivity to force magic and its derivatives.


    - You are capable of actively and passively resisting force magic.


    The halfbreed spent a few moments thinking about the skill before dismissing it outright. Though she had been exposed to force magic twice in the past two days, she felt it unlikely for her to encounter anyone or anything capable of employing it outside of this particular dungeon. Moreover, any hostile encounter with a celestial was likely to outright kill her regardless of all else. She simply wasn¡¯t able to take on an immortal. Not even her father was, no matter how many men he had. The final nail in the skill¡¯s metaphorical coffin was that she didn¡¯t need it to detect a force spell. As far as she could tell, their effects were too far from subtle for such an ability to be necessary in the first place.


    Unarmed Combat Mastery - Level 1


    While many masters of the barehanded martial arts have fists as hard as steel, you are not one of them. You should not be punching trees, even if this skill does make it easier for you to fight without a weapon.


    Shut up Box. That was an accident.


    Effects


    - Unlocks unarmed combat skills.


    - Improves all techniques that do not strictly require weapons.


    - You are now capable of deflecting some projectiles with your bare hands.


    - Increases damage dealt by 11% (10% + 1% per level) when attacking without a weapon.


    - When unarmed, your strength is improved by 60% (50% + 10% per level) of your dexterity.


    I¡¯m not really sure how useful this is going to be.


    The projectile deflection aspect sounded somewhat intriguing, but she still doubted its viability. There was no reason for her to use her fingers to divert an incoming attack when she could just as easily do the same with a dagger.


    Claire sighed as she activated Llystletein Authority. The subpar nature of both her new skills had led her to suspect that the new action she acquired would be just as useless.


    Llystletein Authority


    Actions


    - Establish Safe Zone (Cooldown: 6 days)


    - *NEW* Expunge Waste As Mana (200MP)


    Spawnable Drinks


    - Cosmogoblitan (50MP)


    - Mimicosa¡î (500MP)


    - *NEW* Raven Rocket Fuel (100MP)


    - Stale Water (25MP)


    Spawnable Food


    - Fried Frog Wings (100MP)


    - Grilled Veaber Tail (200MP)


    - Hellhog Bolognese (500MP)


    - Pulled Orc (150MP)


    - Stale Bread (25MP)


    Like everything but stale water, the newest addition was another beverage she had never heard of. She was planning to try them all eventually, but not now, and not on herself. A taste tester would be needed to confirm their effects. With that said, Claire tossed the raven-related acquisition into a corner of her mind and focused on the other entry, the acquisition that came to her like a stunning revelation, an ability she hadn¡¯t known she needed.


    The ability to magically use the bathroom was literally life-changing. Never again would she have to suffer while she played the role of a party¡¯s host, just because several groups of important guests decided they wanted to converse with her. Never again would she have to spend thirty minutes removing a fancy dress and loosening its accompanying corset just to use the bathroom in comfort. And never again would she have to strip naked in the middle of a cave just to deal with an unfortunate case of moss-induced indigestion. Now more than ever, Claire was free. Or least that was what she thought until she realized that the first two scenarios were no longer applicable. She wasn¡¯t even sure of the relevance of the third, as she had no idea if the action could serve as a remedy for an upset stomach. The halfbreed was almost tempted to put that particular aspect of the ability to the test. Almost.


    Though she managed to steer herself away from that particular experiment, she was still interested in giving the action itself a whirl. But much to her dismay, she couldn¡¯t. Using the huskar¡¯s bathroom had left her with no waste to expunge. Knowing that it was a conscious decision left her mad at herself. But it also didn¡¯t. She knew that it had been the best choice at the time, as there was no telling when she would be able to locate another similarly functional facility.


    Upon realizing that neither choice would have been able to satisfy her, the miffed half reptilian set her hindsight goggles aside and moved on. There would always be another chance to avoid relieving herself the way nature intended.


    Claire got up, brushed the dirt off her cloak, and directed her eyes up through the canopy. She quickly concluded that gazing at the swamp hanging overhead would be unproductive. It was already impossible for her to see into its murky depths during the day, and the night had only made it worse. The water reflected most of the light that touched it, but none of the scenery. All she could really make out was that it was there.


    Though the change in perspective made it difficult for her to know where she was, Claire wasn¡¯t lost, nor did she think she would have a difficult time navigating the woodland. The starlight made it surprisingly easy for her to see everything in the forest, and her ability to track the dogman only made it easier for her to reorient and guesstimate her position.


    Log Entry 568


    Tracking has reached level 3.


    Claire looked at the bag slung over her shoulders as she contemplated her options. Considering the victim¡¯s circumstances did leave her with a momentary wince, but she wrote returning his goods off her list of options nonetheless. She had no intention of going back. It simply wasn¡¯t worth the risk. There was no telling how he would react, regardless of her approach. And frankly, she needed his clothes more than he did.


    It had gotten too dark to explore, but she decided to continue working on her previous objective, returning to her safe zone. She wringed out the tiny piece of cloth she had used as a compress, put it back inside of her waist pouch, and headed off in the direction of her origin.

 Chapter 17 - The Nights Knell II

    Chapter 17 - The Night''s Knell II


    Claire had expected the change in terrain to come with a boost to her mobility. At a glance, the woodland seemed much easier to traverse. It was free of murky pools and she no longer had to worry about sudden invisible dips in the ground. Better yet, she could finally just walk. Wading was no longer her only option; pushing herself through the thick, muddy liquid had been equal parts exhausting and uncomfortable. And yet, wandering about the forest wasn¡¯t any easier. The halfbreed moaned and groaned as she realized that exploring the once upside down biome came with its own set of difficulties.


    The excess of undergrowth was nothing if not obnoxious. Plant life was so abundant that the rogue found it nearly impossible to move in a straight line. Every time she tried to mindlessly press onward, she would find herself pricked or cut by whatever brush she pushed aside. Seeking an alternate path was rarely helpful. Overgrown shrubs obscured her vision at every turn and made it difficult for her to stay on track. The few spots that they didn¡¯t occupy instead housed small trees, which were, much to her annoyance, just as difficult to deal with. Though she could push their trunks aside with surprising ease, they would almost always rebound and smack her in the back of the head when she released them. Even their fully grown counterparts proved themselves rather intrusive.


    Only ten minutes had passed since she resumed her trek, but she had already stubbed her smallest toe on three different large roots, all of which were nearly undetectable, hidden beneath the night¡¯s veil. Claire was so annoyed by that particular pain point that she had almost started to regret not stealing a pair of shoes. Needless to say, allowing her mind to wander led to a fourth toe-stubbing incident. The halfbreed was starting to think that she had hit rock bottom. And that was precisely when she learned one life¡¯s most important lessons. It was always possible for any given situation to worsen.


    A sudden assault on her person began right as she started hopping around on one foot. Her assailant, an altered raven, was impossible to miss, in part because it was angrily cawing at the top of its lungs, and in part because it was literally glowing in the dark. It approached from the bog with its thrusters roaring, spitting fire and flame from its rear as it launched itself at her like an arrow.


    She managed to evade the attack by letting go of her foot and diving to the side, but evidently, getting out of harm¡¯s way was beyond her, as her face was soon introduced to the trunk of a less-than-well-placed tree. Groaning in frustration, the rogue scrambled to her feet and drew a dagger.


    Her vision was still spinning from the impact, but she managed to impale the bird in midair the next time it tried to attack her.


    Log Entry 569


    You have slain a level 12 altered raven.


    Raising her kill to her face, Claire furrowed her brows. She had swung her weapon from overhead, but for some odd reason, it looked like she had caught it from below. Her knife¡¯s base was at its stomach, and its tip protruded from the bird¡¯s back. She knew for a fact that it hadn¡¯t been spinning around in midair. It was almost like the bird had been upside down. A nonsensical conclusion.


    Thinking it a function of her exhaustion, she dismissed the thought, flung the bird into a bush, cleaned off her weapon, and got back on track. Or at least that was what she tried to do.


    Less than ten seconds later, her ears perked up. There was yet another raven zooming at her from behind. It was just as loud as the first, screeching nonstop as if to get her attention. Dispatching it only led it to be replaced by a third, a fourth, and a fifth. Claire didn¡¯t think that the situation was out of hand, even when they started coming in pairs. They were faster than her, but their only means of attack was predictable and easily dealt with. Still, she realized it would only be a matter of time before she was overwhelmed.


    Though there were no more in her immediate vicinity, there were dozens if not hundreds of glowing birds on the horizon, all converging on her location. Most were upside down like the first she had eliminated, but some had remained rightside up. The glaring inconsistency almost seemed to scream for an investigation, but she didn¡¯t have the time to think about something so trivial, not with so many of them approaching from every which direction. Even if she could easily dispatch two at once, she knew that challenging a literal army was impossible. She was going to be picked apart.


    Eyes wide and heart racing, the halfbreed activated Sneaking and dove into the nearest bush. The number of corpses nearby all but guaranteed that they would find her if she remained, so she began crawling away as quickly and quietly as she could.


    She wasn¡¯t able to make it very far before they were upon her, but that wasn¡¯t to say that the distance she gained was insignificant. The rogue had stumbled across a half-decent hiding spot, a small den underneath the trunk of a tall thorny tree. Squeezing through the narrow tunnel that was the burrow¡¯s entrance was difficult, even for her. A normal-sized girl her age would not have been able to fit, but fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, Claire had failed to inherit her mother¡¯s hips.


    The chamber within the burrow was much more spacious than its narrow entrance. While there wasn¡¯t enough space for her to stand up, she could at least sit on her knees without having to hunch over. She couldn¡¯t see too well; it was too dark for her to discern the cavern¡¯s exact dimensions, but there was at least room for her to spin around without bumping into anything.


    Knowing that there was enough space, Claire climbed back up the two meter-long tunnel, retrieved her belongings, and pulled them into the depths of her newly acquired shelter. The larger of the two bags was immediately used to block off the burrow¡¯s second, less vertically inclined entrance. Padding it with some dirt and turning her bone mace into a structural support allowed her to seal it shut. She stuck the rest of her weapons into the walls near the first exit for easy access, save for her spear, which she kept on hand. The pole weapon seemed best suited for defending the entrance, given the size of its three-pronged tip.


    She could tell that the ravens were close. Raising her ears, she determined that some were flying directly overhead, while others were hopping around on the forest floor, investigating the area nearby. Her heart began pounding when one ventured into the tunnel she had blocked. It pecked at the leathery pouch, once, twice, thrice, as if to inspect it.


    Hypothetical situations rushed through her mind at a million miles a minute. She nearly made the call to stab the bag and impale the bird before it could make any noise, but stopped herself short. If she was unable to kill it in a single blow, or worse, missed, she would only wind up giving herself away. And even if she did succeed, some other raven would eventually discover the fresh corpse and deduce her location. In either case, the outcome wasn¡¯t worth the sacrifice of a perfectly good shoulder bag.


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    The decision she made instead was to hold her breath and wait for the bird to leave. Which was, according to her ears, exactly what the corvid ultimately chose to do. For a moment, she relaxed. She loosened her grip on her spear, breathed a sigh of relief, and allowed the tension to drain from her body. The halfbreed even went as far as closing her eyes and stretching her arms. It was the only moment she let down her guard. And the only moment she shouldn¡¯t have. What she failed to realize in her moment of hyperfocus and subsequent complacency, was that there was another bird at the other entrance.


    It didn¡¯t notice her immediately. The doorway¡¯s steep incline prevented it from seeing all the way into the den, but it was only a matter of time before it spotted her. Because the bird was actively hopping to her location. Had she been fully focused, she would have been able to pierce it through before it found her and sounded the alarm, but the momentary lapse of attention had cost her the opportunity. It saw her right as she grabbed her spear. She was able to cut its cry short, but it was too late. The distorted squawk only made it more obvious that one of the ravens had spotted their foe.


    Log Entry 578


    You have slain a level 6 altered raven.


    Log Entry 579


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Rogue, has reached level 19.


    You have gained 2 ability points.


    Wait, why am I reading? This isn¡¯t the time for this!


    Claire tightened her grip on her spear as the flock closed in. She impaled the first three to enter with little effort. Each had tried diving straight at her, and each had run right into the tip of a spear. The encounter led her to realize that the den was surprisingly defensibile. Only a single raven could fit inside the narrow passage at once and there was not enough space for the oversized corvids to evade her weapon. The birds seemed to discern this as well. After a small number of sacrifices, they put their assault on a temporary hold. The androids continued to gather near the den¡¯s entrance, some in the trees, some on the ground, and some even a few steps inside the tunnel. But there was a limit to how close they would get. None dared to venture within range of her strikes.


    Oddly, they began quieting down as they converged on her. The constant squawking was replaced by a wall of silent, mechanical gazes. She didn¡¯t think much of them at first, but quickly grew more unsettled as the staring contest continued. It was eerie. Their cybernetic eyes were soulless and empty. And yet, they almost seemed to be staring at her with an undying fury. The glares were so hostile they could unnerve even a veteran, but not Claire. The ravens¡¯ animosity felt no different than the spite-fueled malice with which other noble ladies had often regarded her, often because they were jealous of her long, floppy ears.


    Equating the birds to indignant, tiny-eared aristocrats led Claire to realize that there was an easy way to resolve the situation at hand. All she needed to do was bait them into stepping out of line. That said, she doubted that they were as easy to manipulate as the duchesses and countesses whose pride she had often besmirched. All that was needed to make an insecure Lady stomp over was to flutter her ears while greeting the men they were promised to. Playing innocent when confronted¡ªa classic trick her father had taught her himself¡ªwas all that was required to guarantee an explosive storm of inappropriate insults.


    The first underhanded ploy that came to mind was to summon the raven-based drink that she had recently unlocked. She wasn¡¯t sure if the birds would understand its significance, but she knew they were supposed to be clever. One of her tutors had frequently advertised their unaltered variants as perfect companions for warlocks of all tenures.


    Her plan in place, Claire activated her authority skill and selected her most recent acquisition. A thick, oily liquid began streaming from the tip of her free hand. Pointing the digit towards the tunnel¡¯s exit, she ejected the fluid with enough force for it to leave the underground shelter. She even started to wave her spear around, coating its three-pronged tip to better flaunt the bird-based liquid.


    Exposing the solution to the light of the moon revealed that its colour was a dazzling amber, like that of a well made ginger ale. It¡¯s scent, however, was much less appealing. It was noxious, dizzying and unpleasant, reminding her more of the grease used to polish a blade than a beverage that would accompany a pleasant dinner. Something in the back of her mind warned her against drinking the ¡°rocket fuel,¡± whatever it was, but she went ahead and popped her finger straight into her mouth regardless.


    The rogue gagged almost immediately. The raven-based drink was disgusting, equal parts bitter and sour. Worse yet was the burning sensation that assailed her as it pooled in her mouth, akin to that of a liquor distilled only for strength. Swallowing caused the pain to spread down her throat and into her stomach. It caused her so much distress and agony that she couldn''t believe she wasn¡¯t drinking poison.


    Log Entry 583


    You have been poisoned. Your health regeneration has been reduced from 24/hour to -36/hour for the next two hours.


    Claire pulled her finger out of her mouth immediately the moment she spotted her latest log entry, but it was too late. She had already ingested enough of it to make her sick. The burning sensation continued to linger, even after she swallowed. Everything from her throat to her gut ached as her head spun. The dizzy spell was so intense that she would have fallen onto her knees, had she not already been on all fours. Her fingers felt unresponsive and weak, even though she was continuing to grip her spear with enough force for her knuckles to go white. Her toes weren¡¯t much better off. She could barely feel the dirt beneath her feet.


    The worst part of it all was not her suffering, but rather that the taunt had outright failed. She didn¡¯t know if the ravens hadn¡¯t recognized the fluid, or if they simply hadn¡¯t cared, but not a single one had bothered to grace her with a response, an outcome that was as much of a blessing as it was a curse, given how poorly she had taken to the poison.


    As she clenched her teeth and wrestled her mind from the poison¡¯s grasp, Claire recalled that leveling up would cleanse the status condition she had afflicted herself with. The thought of the much needed relief came with an epiphany. There was no harm in letting them into the burrow.


    The underground chamber wasn¡¯t spacious enough for the birds to pick up any speed, nor was there any way for them to maintain their velocity upon entry. The tunnel¡¯s sharp incline made it so that they were sure to crash straight into the ground unless they slowed themselves before they reached her. And that was something they didn¡¯t know. They couldn¡¯t see into the chamber from outside. The rogue was certain that their eyes had only managed to find her because of the way her scales glimmered under the moonlight.


    Having run through a mental simulation, Claire proceeded to get rid of one of the major deterrents halting the ravens¡¯ advance. She reversed her grip on her polearm, raised it overhead, and threw it into the crowd with all the might that her awkward, seated position allowed her to muster. Much to her surprise, the projectile attack proved itself a success; her bony weapon speared three different birds on its way out. Of those that were hit, two suffered fatal injuries while the last squirmed and seemed to hang to life for a moment before toppling onto its side. And after what seemed like a brief struggle, it finally fell still.


    Log Entry 584


    You have slain a level 8 altered raven.


    Log Entry 585


    You have slain a level 6 altered raven.


    Log Entry 586


    You have slain a level 11 altered raven.


    Log Entry 587


    You have acquired the Throwing skill.


    Log Entry 588


    The following Llystletein Rogue skill has been acquired: Envenom


    The third raven¡¯s loud, painful, rocket fuel-induced death caused the other birds to take action. The silent glares were replaced by a sudden explosion of shrill caws and sinister croaks. It didn¡¯t take long for the first of them to resume diving into the tunnel at full speed. The bait had worked. Hook, line, and sinker.

 Chapter 18 - The Nights Knell III

    Chapter 18 - The Night''s Knell III


    Claire descended upon the first raven to enter as soon as it was out of sight of the others. She stabbed an antler into its side, skewering it, before swinging the weapon again with enough force to send its mangled corpse flying into a nearby wall. A similar fate awaited both the second and third, but not the fourth. Having deduced that she made quick work of its comrades, the fourth bird acted with more caution. It moved slowly as it squawked out what almost seemed to be a report to those that couldn¡¯t see into the bunker. Its diligence allowed it to evade her first strike. It killed its boosters, twisted its body, and pushed its wings against the air to alter its momentum and slip past her blade. The technique would have been sure to disorient an airborne foe, but airborne Claire was not. Unaffected, she removed the creature¡¯s head with a second swipe of her blade and sent its lifeless corpse spiraling into the ground.


    The halfbreed¡¯s ears perked up as she made the kill. A series of loud thumps grabbed her attention and led her eyes away from the vertical entrance to its more horizontal counterpart. No sooner than she inspected it did it give in to the pressure. A black-feathered bird cannonballed into the barrier and broke through. Though it crashed right into her side, it didn¡¯t do any damage and she was able to dispatch it with a quick swing. But that was where the good news ended. While the two entrances weren¡¯t on opposite sides of the den, they still were far enough apart to make it impossible for Claire to keep an eye on both at once. She was going to have to split her focus.


    Birds streamed in from both avenues, and with much more vigour than before. But even so, all seemed fine. Or at least it did at first. The ravens that came from the steeper entrance weren¡¯t much of a threat. They had to turn at least once upon entry. She had more than enough time to eliminate them, even with most of her attention on the other tunnel. The only issue Claire encountered didn¡¯t manifest itself until she finished dealing with several waves of enemies. And it came in the form of her equipment. Her frog antlers were durable, but they had never been treated or forged. At the end of the day, they were just ordinary bones belonging to creatures no more powerful than the altered ravens. They could only take so much punishment before they were beyond the point of use.


    The first to break was the blade in her left hand. Its upper half snapped off when she used it to stop a head on charge. She had succeeded in avoiding damage, but she had lost one of the weapons she was using to fend off the swarm. And more importantly, the raven had survived. When the next pair entered the burrow, Claire found herself facing three.


    She recognized that allowing her foes to maintain an even greater numerical advantage would only swing the battle in their favour. The burrow couldn¡¯t fit too many birds at once, but the more there were, the more she would need to focus on defense. If the size of each wave grew, she would lose the ability to catch her breath. Her stamina would drain and she would eventually be overwhelmed. The threat of fatigue seemed imminent. It loomed directly overhead, but the halfbreed wasn¡¯t the least bit concerned. She was confident that she would be able to quickly dispose of the third raven and revert the status quo before the situation spiraled out of hand.


    The rogue pulled a dagger out from the wall and used it to dispatch one newcomer while swiping at the other two birds with her remaining sword. She caught both, but only one died. Her seated position prevented her from putting her back into her strikes; drawing out the full extent of her power simply wasn¡¯t possible without the use of her legs.


    Righting itself in midair, the two-time survivor charged at her. Its thrusters sped it up much more quickly than she expected and forced her to use both hands, one to guard against the attack, and the other to perform an execution. The sequence cost her the opportunity to catch the next pair as it entered. They were given enough time to readjust, reposition, and launch their respective attacks. Again, she was forced to focus on defense while another two ravens joined in on the assault.


    Claire clicked her tongue in annoyance. The situation had only gone from bad to worse. All because she was a malformed halfbreed. She would have been able to avoid the problem in its entirety by flattening the third raven with her tail had she been more like her mother. And she would have been able to escape the encounter had she the ability to traverse the forest at top speed like her father. But she had failed to inherit either of her parents¡¯ body plans, even though most other halfbreeds took after one or the other.


    In spite of her frustrations, Claire was not in any immediate danger. She was warding off all four of her foes with surprising ease. She had been nicked a few times, but none of the injuries were particularly noteworthy. The attacks that had landed on her scales had outright failed to inflict any sort of damage. She was only cut where her skin was exposed, though that wasn¡¯t saying much, as most of her body remained uncovered by her natural armour.


    The rogue prepared herself for the worst. She thought that she was going to be overrun in a matter of moments, but apparently, four was the effective limit on the number of ravens that could simultaneously challenge her. Squeezing a fifth or sixth bird into the tightly packed space benefited her more than it did her enemies. They would start crashing into each other whenever she repelled their attacks and threw them off course. Some accidentally finished off their own allies, while others wound up in a crumpled, easily executable mess. The number of corpses left strewn about didn¡¯t help either, and some birds even began popping into the room just to retrieve them and open up more space for their peers to fight. The black feathered avians quickly learned that four was the limit and refused to join the fray unless there was enough space to move around. If possible, they even tagged out when they found themselves too wounded or exhausted to continue, all to keep her on her toes. But the longer they fought, the less likely their victory seemed. Because unlike the birds, who spent every day in the presence of their predators, Claire lacked combat experience.


    She grew more accustomed to the hunt as it dragged on. Her swings gradually became smoother and more refined, and her strikes more vicious and deadly. She was finally starting to understand the visual cues associated with her foes¡¯ attacks and the timings required to counter them. She went from almost exclusively defending to eliminating a raven every few exchanges by the time her second antler broke. Much to her own amazement, the weapon¡¯s loss barely affected her. If anything, she found it easier to parry the bird-shaped projectiles with one of her hands empty, an undesired truth that left her more annoyed than pleased.


    The rogue wasn¡¯t the only one to realize that the battle was starting to swing back in her favour. A distinctive deep squawk signalled all of the birds to engage in a sudden retreat. Even those that had been in the midst of attacking her turned tail and flew back up the tunnels. For a moment, Claire thought herself victorious. A very, very brief moment.


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    The illusion was shattered when she heard a familiar splat from just outside the burrow. Moving to the burrow¡¯s main entrance and looking up, she was blasted by a sudden torrent of liquid. When it finally stopped, she opened her eyes to find herself staring at an upside down frog with its mouth gaping and tongue retracted.


    Raising both arms, she braced herself for impact. But it never came. The frog was already dead. It was just a corpse, one being hauled around by a group of birds.


    Looking up at the branches, she saw that there were more of them. A lot more of them. Dead, bloated frogs literally dotted the sky. The corvids were hoisting the amphibious buckets to the forest¡¯s floor and dumping their contents into the burrow. The swamp water pooled on the ceiling. Rapidly. The muddy water touched the top of her hair, dirtying and dying it a shade of brown. Still, she didn¡¯t panic, at least not until the third anuran was dropped.


    The liquid the third frog spewed wasn¡¯t swamp water. It was much clearer, like that of a spring or river. And more importantly, it pooled not above, but below.


    Claire wouldn¡¯t have been worried if all the water was sourced from the marsh. It certainly would have been a rather uncomfortable experience, but not a dangerous one. The burrow¡¯s more vertical exit was nearly built into the ceiling; the swamp water was sure to drain before it could even cover her eyes. But the same couldn¡¯t be said for the supposed spring water. It could actually rise enough to drown her.


    All signs seemed to point to checkmate. If the birds¡¯ plans were to be trusted, her only two options were to wait and drown or step out into the open and allow the rocket-powered ravens to peck her to death. Naturally, the halfbreed desired neither result, so she set her mind to thinking a way out of the predicament.


    The first option she considered was to dig. Technically, there wasn¡¯t anything stopping her from creating a third entrance and sneaking away while the ravens remained unaware. It seemed like a decent idea and she was very tempted to put it to the test, but ultimately refrained. It was too reckless. She didn¡¯t have a clue as to how long it would take her to dig out an escape route, nor how much time she had remaining.


    Her second proposal was to make an escape through the canopy. The ravens were much faster than her, but they weren¡¯t as agile and had a hard time navigating tight spaces. Still, option number two was also soon dismissed. The halfbreed wasn¡¯t confident that she could get up into a tree or guarantee an escape even if she did. There were too many birds hanging around; one was sure to catch her unawares.


    Last was the thought of standing her ground. Handling herself in a four versus one filled her with confidence. She felt she would be able to hold her own so long as she managed to locate a point of defense that was less easily flooded. The proposition sounded good on paper, but it was impractical. She knew very little about the area and its landmarks. Stumbling upon the burrow had been nothing but dumb luck and it wasn¡¯t happening again.


    None of the ideas she came up with seemed particularly viable. They all had their obvious flaws, but nothing else was coming to mind. She knew that the rising pressure would only make it harder to think of anything notable, so she defaulted to the plan with the fewest glaring faults: digging. After grabbing all her stuff, she crawled over to a random corner, lifted her bone mace, and got to work.


    Down was the first direction she dug. Fighting the ravens had taught her that she wouldn¡¯t be able to leverage her strength if she didn¡¯t have enough space to stand up, so she wasn¡¯t discouraged to find the task much more grueling than expected. She was able to plunge the tough femur deep into the ground, but while the mace was significantly wider than her arm, it lacked the wedge-shaped blade that a shovel was supposed to have. She was only able to remove a tiny bit of soil at once, and the muddy consistency that the topmost layer had didn¡¯t help. All the blood, oil, and water had made it more than difficult to handle.


    It took a significant amount of time to dig a hole large enough for her to stand upright. She was enthused, at first, but all her ardour drained the moment she realized that digging did not, in fact, suddenly get easier just because she was no longer seated. If anything, it was only becoming harder. The water that the ravens poured into the pit permeated through the soil and turned most of it to sludge. The rogue was so frustrated by the development that she decided to punch the wall of her newly constructed pit. The right cross tore right through the mud, displacing a volume far greater than what she managed to remove through the use of her dysfunctional shovel.


    For a moment, she stood frozen in place. She stared at the hole for a good few seconds before wordlessly reattaching the bone mace to her bandolier and getting to work with her bare hands instead. That, of course, wasn¡¯t to say that she continued to punch it. Not even Claire was that silly. She started sticking her hands into the mud and either scooping or tearing large portions out from in front of her.


    Log Entry 627


    You have acquired the Digging skill.


    Shut up Box. I hate myself enough already.


    The combination of a better toolset and a brand new skill helped to drastically speed up the rogue¡¯s advance. But after another few minutes of digging, she realized that she wasn¡¯t going to be fast enough. The cave was already a quarter full, and she had only managed to make five or so meters worth of progress. The biggest problem was a lack of raw force. Tearing through the tree¡¯s roots took a lot of effort. Worse yet, there were often large stones in her path. Removing them was difficult and required far too much time. Time she didn¡¯t have. Based on how quickly the water was rising, she suspected that she would only be able to excavate another ten odd meters before she had to start digging straight up, and that simply wouldn¡¯t do. Fifteen measly meters was likely to be well within the ravens¡¯ detection range.


    Continuing to dig didn¡¯t seem like it would do her any good, but she had already invested far too much time and energy to quit. Fortunately, she happened to have a solution in mind. Without a moment''s hesitation, Claire dumped all her ability points into strength and brought its value to 95. The change that came with tripling the stat was drastic. She suddenly found herself capable of tearing right through even the thickest roots without much effort. Likewise, the rocks that she had struggled to painstakingly remove were a problem no longer. One hand was all she needed to casually rip them out of the dirt and toss them over her shoulder.


    Three skill levels later, she broke through the ground roughly a hundred meters away from the burrow. There was a large, thick bush right above her. She wasn¡¯t able to catch any glimpses of the ravens right off the bat, but her ears were telling her that there were only a few overhead. Waiting for them to pass, she widened the hole and slowly crawled out of the ground and into the undergrowth.


    Her cheeks slackened. A goofy grin appeared on her face as she pushed the bushes¡¯ branches aside and looked towards the thorny tree. They were still working on drowning her. Not a single raven was actively patrolling the area; the only ones standing guard were situated around the burrow¡¯s known exits, and those that were airborne were focused entirely on transport.


    She had escaped. And the oversized pigeons didn¡¯t suspect a thing.

 Chapter 19 - The Nights Knell IV

    Chapter 19 - The Night''s Knell IV


    Claire groaned as she forced herself to take another painful step. Her body had grown heavier and less responsive as the night dragged on, and she had even developed a headache, no doubt in part because her internal clock refused to stop screaming at her for staying up so late. The rogue didn¡¯t know exactly what time it was, but at the very least, she was aware that it was long past midnight.


    A familiar, yet foreign sensation.


    She had never pulled any all-nighters herself, but that wasn¡¯t to say that she knew nothing of them. A number of vicarious experiences had armed her with all the knowledge that she needed to remain conscious. The most notable short term solution derived from her secondhand enlightenment was to inhale while she fired a stream of water at her face. It wasn¡¯t exactly pleasant, but she couldn¡¯t deny that it was effective.


    Emulating the sensation of being drowned was, of course, not the only thing Claire did to keep herself from passing out. She kept her mind occupied with various thoughts of all different sorts while also occasionally directing her focus towards the husky-faced man that was her positional reference. A sudden notification popped into her mind as she used the skill that enabled her to locate him, prompting her to recall that she had many log entries left unread. She quickly began filtering through them, ignoring the kill feed in favour of the messages that signified milestones in her growth.


    Log Entry 597


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Rogue, has reached level 20.


    Your agility and dexterity have been increased by 10.


    You have gained 2 ability points.


    Log Entry 598


    Sword Mastery has reached level 4.


    It¡¯s a shame they both broke. I¡¯ll have to find some more frogs in the morning.


    Adding an entry to her mental to-do list, Claire checked the dogman¡¯s location and adjusted her trajectory accordingly.


    Log Entry 605


    Unarmed Combat Mastery has reached level 2.


    Log Entry 612


    Unarmed Combat Mastery has reached level 3.


    As much as it annoyed her, Claire had to admit that the skill had proven itself useful beyond her expectations. Though its offensive capabilities were lacking, it had somehow bolstered her defenses to the point where it had become impossible for the altered ravens to get at her. It almost seemed as good as a shield, not that she knew what it was like to use a shield, but that was besides the point.


    Log Entry 613


    Dagger Mastery has reached level 4.


    Log Entry 619


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your Racial Class, Halfbreed, has reached level 16.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Rogue, has reached level 21.


    You have gained 8 ability points.


    The halfbreed levels are really starting to slow down.


    She knew that her classes could gain experience and levels independently of each other. One of her more obnoxious tutors, a basic witch that disliked wearing tall pointed hats for fear of being stereotyped, had spent many long hours drilling that exact point into her mind. To that end, Claire was well aware that performing an action associated with a particular class was all that was required to progress it. Under normal circumstances, understanding that would have provided the solution, but in the halfbreed¡¯s case, it was precisely the problem. Nobody seemed to know enough about her particular racial combination to correctly deduce the actions that would advance it, and she couldn¡¯t quite blame them. Her parents had been dubbed reproductively incompatible. Mammals and reptiles weren¡¯t supposed to be able to interbreed.


    The only thing that worked consistently was combat, but evidently, even that was subpar. Her inability to understand her own blood traits or leverage her inborn abilities, made it so her racial class grew at a much slower rate than her primary one.


    It wasn¡¯t the first time Claire had run into that exact problem. Ritual Mage had also leveled much more quickly than Halfbreed, which, given the circumstances, was not at all unexpected. Most of her caster levels had come from studying. Skimming over ancient texts and performing the rituals detailed therein had quickly provided her with enough experience to bring the class to level 47. But as the tasks she completed were as targeted and specific as possible, Halfbreed had nearly failed to benefit. The only racial level she had gained from any related activity stemmed from the sacrifice of an unwilling goblin; plunging a ceremonial dagger into its chest fell under the umbrella of combat.


    Thinking back, Claire recalled that, sacrifices aside, none of her racial class¡¯ gains had stemmed from actions that were strictly identifiable. The earliest level she remembered earning was her sixth, which she had gotten from falling down a flight of stairs. Her seventh was the result of the aforementioned ritual, while the eighth had come while she was in the middle of a game of cards. The final level that she had gained before magically teleporting away from home had been granted to her as she crawled into bed. The only level up that seemed even the slightest bit explicable was the one that involved the goblin. The others could only be described as random. Not even Cadria¡¯s best scholars were able to make any sense of them, and if there was one thing she was sure about, it was that her half-conscious mind was unlikely to do any better.


    From an objective standpoint, the two days that Claire spent away from home had served to provide an explosive growth spurt. Her racial level had nearly doubled. But even so, the halfbreed remained dissatisfied. She felt that the few levels she had gained weren¡¯t worth nearly as much as the effort put in. There was no way she wasn¡¯t doing something wrong, but she couldn¡¯t figure out what it was. And unless she did, it was going to take her a long, long time to surpass the limits imposed by her race.


    ¡°I want a tail¡­¡±


    She checked her position and made another more major readjustment to her forward vector as she once again gave her evolutions some thought. Ideally, she wanted a form with more scales. Natural plated defenses could prove themselves a bit of a pain at times, but if her experiences were to be believed, they were far more beneficial than they were detrimental. The halfbreed also wished for a change in colour. She was, admittedly, rather fond of the celeste shade with which her scales shone, but she wanted something darker and more regal. She wasn¡¯t young enough for her colouring to be as light as it was anymore. More importantly, she didn¡¯t want to be recognized upon her eventual return to civilization. Her identity as the daughter of a high commander, as well as the only halfbreed amongst the upper ranks of the Cadrian nobility, made it so she was easily recognized by those familiar with her country¡¯s politics.


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    Frankly, Claire had no idea why her father was ranked as highly as he was. His title seemed completely and utterly undeserved. He was a terrible strategist and many of his men were far better fighters, courtesy of his oversized belly. The only thing that he had on them was experience, which to her, seemed like more of a hindrance than it did an edge, given how cautious and cowardly it made him.


    Log Entry 628


    Digging has reached level 2.


    Log Entry 629


    Digging has reached level 3.


    Log Entry 630


    Digging has reached level 4.


    Log Entry 631


    Sneaking has reached level 6.


    Log Entry 632


    Tracking has reached level 4.


    That¡¯s all of them.


    Claire closed her log as she tracked the huskar and made yet another adjustment or two to the direction she was headed in. Tracking was one of the skills she was happiest to have. The mental compass was not only convenient, but also the only thing stopping her from getting lost, given that she was unable to leave the underbrush if she wanted to keep out of sight.


    Thinking about Tracking and its benefits led Claire to recall that she had a number of new skills to examine in detail. The box¡¯s comments on her conduct were sure to aid her in staying awake. As much as she hated to admit it, its less than savoury opinions had kept her up at night on more than one occasion already. And seeing how her eyelids were already drooping, anything that kept them from closing all the way was more than welcome.


    Digging - Level 4


    There is truth to the saying that it is sometimes necessary to get your hands dirty. That, however, does not mean that you should take the statement literally. Please note that while this skill will improve the speed and efficacy with which you dig, it will do nothing for your inability to take note of useful details in your surroundings.


    Effects


    - Increases digging speed


    - Tunnels you dig are less likely to collapse


    - Lessens the effect of poor terrain on your ability to dig through it


    I¡¯m not really sure what you¡¯re talking about, box. I¡¯m great at paying attention to details.


    Envenom - Level 1


    First of all, you are not good at paying attention to details. Secondly, it is important to note that ingesting a liquid you knew little about was a wise choice. Please repeat this mistake. I would also like to advise against leveling up afterwards such that you may better accustom yourself to the permanent blindness, perpetual pain, and liver failure that the rocket fuel is sure to induce in the hours following its consumption.


    Uhhhmmm¡­ Wow. I¡¯m really glad the crows were nearby when I tried it.


    Effects


    - Consume mana to coat a weapon with a poison you are familiar with. The more potent the poison, the higher the cost.


    - Any remaining poison degrades rapidly out of combat. This effect can be negated either temporarily or permanently through the provision of additional mana.


    Throwing - Level 1


    Congratulations, you have finally learned that projectiles exist. All you need to learn now is that it is necessary to retrieve them after use.


    Huh?


    The message prompted Claire to check all her weapon holsters. She knew that her antler blades were gone, but a second inspection led her to realize that they weren¡¯t all she had lost.


    Wait! Where¡¯s my spear!? Nooooooo, my speaaaaar!


    Effects


    - Improves your aim when throwing projectiles.


    - Increases the distance over which you are capable of throwing objects. 1 meter of distance is granted for every 10 points of strength, regardless of the projectile¡¯s weight.


    I want my spear back.


    Claire groaned. She knew that there was no use in trying to look for it. She had no recollection of the burrow¡¯s precise location nor any idea as to where the weapon had flown after it was loosed. Not that either bit of knowledge would have helped¡ªthe halfbreed was all but certain that the ravens had either displaced or destroyed it.


    Thinking of the birds, Claire glanced over her shoulder. She didn¡¯t think they were aware of her escape just yet. It had only been an hour since her departure, and she could easily hold her breath for two if she stayed still. But even with that said, she still felt the need to stay out of sight. There was no doubt that they would find her if she remained in the open. And if they did, they would likely pin her down again soon after. One daring escape had been enough for the day. She had no intention of going through a second while on the verge of collapse.


    Rest wasn¡¯t the only biological need on Claire¡¯s mind. She realized, as she transitioned from one brush to the next, that she also needed to use the restroom. It was the perfect excuse to make use of her authority¡¯s skill¡¯s newest function, but she stopped herself short of activating it. She had no idea how much magical energy the action would expel, nor whether it would end up having any harmful side effects, so she postponed the experiment for another day.


    Crawling into an uncontaminated brush, and using her ears to confirm that there weren¡¯t any birds nearby, she stuck her head out from the undergrowth and examined her surroundings. The rogue felt like she was supposed to be nearing the exit. The amount of distance she had covered following her escape from the dog man¡¯s house felt roughly the same as the amount of distance she had covered in pursuit of the first raven she slew. And yet, the massive stone wall that served as the exit somehow remained nowhere in sight. Double checking her tracking skill, she confirmed that everything seemed right. She had headed in the right direction and the huskar was roughly thirty minutes away from her by sprint.


    Continuing to focus on him, however, led her to realize that there was a different issue to be described. Because he vanished from her perception and reappeared elsewhere a minute or so after she began keeping a constant eye on his location. He had, in an instant, gone from behind her to in front of her. And then another few minutes later, he warped again, this time appearing on her right. With a gulp, the halfbreed scanned her surroundings and confirmed that they were unfamiliar.


    She was lost. And the only anchor she had, the compass that she had used as her guiding star, was effectively shifting around the forest at random. The halfbreed cursed her own carelessness. She knew she would have been able to realize that he hadn¡¯t remained in one spot had she not opted to immerse herself in her own thoughts.


    At first, she tried to think of a solution to the predicament, but that idea was dismissed as quickly as it was conjured. She was far too drained to put her head to use. One exhausted sigh later, the halfbreed decided that it was time to seek shelter.


    She located a nearby tree with a wide base, dug herself a hole, and crawled inside. After covering the entrance with a nearby bush, which she had impatiently ripped out of the ground, Claire curled herself up, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.


    Claire


    Health: 172/172


    Mana: 464/607


    Health Regen: 24/hour


    Mana Regen: 322/hour


    Ability Scores - 0 Points Available


    - Agility: 62


    - Dexterity: 82


    - Spirit: 57


    - Strength: 95


    - Vitality: 24


    - Wisdom: 161


    Racial Class: Halfbreed - Level 16.10


    - Quadrupedal Bloodrush - Level 1.00


    - Lashing Tailstrike - Level 1.00


    Primary Class: Llystletein Rogue - Level 21.28


    - Assassinate - Level 2.17


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 4.11


    - Double Stab - Level 6.02


    - Envenom - Level 1.00


    - Manathief - Level 1.00


    Unclassed Skills


    - Club Mastery - Level 5.73


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 4.51


    - Dancing - Level 5.24


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 1.00


    - Digging - Level 4.85


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 3.78


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 6.13


    - Marish - Level 18.98


    - Sneaking - Level 6.29


    - Spear Mastery - Level 3.82


    - Sword Mastery - Level 4.67


    - Throwing - Level 1.00


    - Tracking - Level 4.01


    - Unarmed Combat Mastery - Level 3.36

 Chapter 20 - Pests and Poisons

    Chapter 20 - Pests and Poisons


    When Claire came to, she found herself not within the hole she had dug, but a room whose ceiling was over ten times her height. The sun¡¯s rays shone through the windows, dulled by the thick stained glass. Even in summer time, the daylight was not enough to illuminate the atrium by itself. Countless candles, mechanical and otherwise, were strewn throughout the room to make it easier for those that struggled in low light. Looking around at the many dazzling sources, Claire noted a few familiar faces, all unmoving, frozen in time.


    The manor¡¯s chef, Amereth, stood by the entrance, pushing a cart topped with a variety of pastries. Claire had never quite understood how the shark lady was able to walk on her fins, and perhaps it was precisely her lack of comprehension that made it impossible for her to make them out as anything but a blur. The rest of her, however, was clear as day. Even her apron was highly detailed, its upper left strap slightly burnt from a halfbreed-induced artifact explosion, many long months in the past.


    Allegra was by the windowsill, one hand on a textbook, and the other fiddling with a pair of wide rimmed glasses. A large hat sat on her head. Flat top aside, it was nearly identical to that of the stereotypical witch¡¯s, with the only other difference being the two thin slits that her ears protruded from. Unlike Claire¡¯s ears, they were rounded, wider at the center and thinner at the base. Rabbit ears. The witch was lecturing a young halfbreed whose mind was clearly far from present. Her younger self was wearing light clothing, a plain sleeveless dress that exposed the occasional patch of scale decorating her arms. She was a lot paler back then. Even the lamella on her cheeks bordered on white; her hair was the same, missing most of the blue that it had gained over the years. Looking at the pair, the rogue smiled. Though she had only been twelve, back then, it was already clear that she was much more attractive than her mentor in magic.


    The last person in the room was Durham, seated in a corner with his eyes closed, legs folded, and palms together. It was a meditative pose, one that every disciplined centaur warrior could assume at a moment¡¯s notice. He was dressed in full gear already, most of his face hidden beneath a helmet with no padding sewn in. His mane and beard more than played the part. Likewise, his triangular horse-like ears were also obscured from view, folded downwards so that they would not be an easy target. The man played two roles. He was both her guard and her instructor, but in the end, he had proven himself capable of neither.


    After taking a deep breath, Claire left the room, walking straight through Amereth and her cart alike. Her body was like a phantom¡¯s. She had a definite form, but she was as difficult to grasp as the mist. Wandering through the halls, the halfbreed ignored the maids, the butlers, and the guards. Back then, she remembered all their faces and all their names. But now she wanted to forget. The failed ritual¡¯s backlash had likely taken many of them as casualties.


    Passing through several walls, she arrived at the garden, and then the gate. She walked straight through it, stopping only once she reached the floating rock¡¯s edge. The supports were invisible from where she stood, but she knew that, within the stone that made up the manor¡¯s base, there was an artifact keeping it afloat. One of Canterbell¡¯s three masterpieces. The other two were present as well, floating off in the distance, visible just above the clouds. Together, the three ducal manors formed a triangle that perfectly enclosed the Cadrian capital below. They were keystones, artifacts meant to strengthen the barrier protecting the king and his castle. The master artificer had created them as a gift to her father for praising his craft and, after many long years, finally acquitting it of its status as taboo.


    Shaking her head, Claire returned to the manor and resumed wandering around its halls. Stepping towards her father¡¯s office. Her teeth were clenched, biting against her lips with enough force to draw blood. Her hands were balled into fists. Trembling, fragile fists. The sun rapidly set as she got closer and closer to his study, the sky turning as red as it had been when he had informed her that she would be sacrificed to Builledragcht. She wanted to question him. Even though she knew exactly what his answer would be. To him, the lives of a thousand men far outweighed hers. Rationally, she understood it. But she couldn¡¯t agree. And she had to confront him. Even if¡ªespecially because¡ªit was a dream.


    She needed to give him a piece of her mind. While she still could.


    But each step she got only took her further away. Every time she placed a foot forward, the corridor would extend, with the door growing further and further with every passing moment. Her fiery emotions dulled as the events grew more distant. She suddenly felt detached, unwilling to confront him even though he had forced her to run a dagger into her own chest. Her heart started to pound, harder and harder as she was filled with the urge to run. Somewhere. Anywhere. But she couldn¡¯t. Her legs trembled. Her feet refused to move. Even as fury pressed her to strangle him, to grab him by the neck and squeeze as hard as she could.


    And then, there was nothing.


    Her anger and fear both vanished, replaced by a sense of listlessness.


    Suddenly, she didn¡¯t care.


    None of it seemed to matter.


    Not now.


    Not then.


    Not ever.


    The scenery began to change as she slowly raised her head, Her fists unclenched, and her jaw slackened. Gone was the reddish hue that accompanied the setting sun, and with it went the familiar scent of home. Even the cold that accompanied the howling winds had vanished without a trace.


    The hallway warped out of shape, transforming into a dimly lit room with walls constructed through artificial means. No ridges were present whatsoever, as would have been with lumber or stone obtained through a natural source, and not just because they had been painted over with a thick layer of colour. Each wall appeared to be a single piece, made to perfectly fit the house¡¯s floor plan. They were likely magical creations, building materials that even those in positions of power were inclined to avoid. Most constructs were transient in nature. It wasn¡¯t impossible to invoke one whose essence was perpetual, but the amount of time and effort required was nothing short of monumental.


    Employing a legion of mages was far more expensive than paying a lumberjack his due. And that was without considering the potential for dishonesty. Discerning a temporary fabrication from a permanent fixture was difficult, impossible for those not highly skilled in the art of magic.


    As such, artificial walls were an unusual sight, even for one that lived in luxury. Claire rarely ever saw them outside of the part of the dream world she found herself in. Its presence came as a bit of a surprise, not because it was unusual for her to be pulled into it, but rather because it rarely happened in such rapid succession. There were typically weeks between the individual instances.


    The home¡¯s scruffy looking owner was in both his usual positions. His solid form was sitting on a soft, wide piece of furniture clearly meant for three while his translucent spectre floated beside her. She could never quite get over having two of him in her line of sight. It was jarring. In the past, she had even found herself disturbed by it, but not anymore. The only aspect that bothered her now was that their expressions would often convey opposing thoughts.


    Stolen story; please report.


    Noticing her gaze, the phantom turned towards her and nodded in greeting. He spoke, mouthing the salutation as soundlessly as a reflection. She had never been able to hear the projection¡¯s voice. The only sounds that reached her ears came from his physical form and the environment that surrounded it. And yet, his words were able to reach her. They painted themselves on a black canvas within her consciousness. Pure white text, too neat and regular to be handwritten. Just like the box.


    The sentences that appeared in her mind were always much briefer than those traced by his lips¡ªif they could even be referred to as sentences. Sometimes, there were only single words that she struggled to make sense of. His initial address, however, was easy to grasp. He had led with the same thing as usual, a simple ¡°Hello.¡±


    Her response was a nod, not because she didn¡¯t want to speak, but because she shared the phantom¡¯s inability to make sound. And unlike the spirit, she knew not how she was supposed to project her thoughts.


    ¡°Watch. Important.¡±


    After acknowledging her greeting and saying a few more things, he directed her attention towards his more solid form. She really didn¡¯t want to look at him, given that he was in the middle of changing his clothes, but she went ahead and did it anyway. His new outfit was too curious for her to ignore. He had switched from what she thought to be casual wear to a set of pure black clothes that more closely fit his body. He wore two belts, one on his waist, and another on his forehead. Though both were made primarily of cloth, the latter stood out, likely because it featured a metal plate too thin to serve as a line of defense. Once he was done changing, he grabbed a device likely meant to aid him in the casting of magic. The large rectangular box hanging from his wall flashed to life as he depressed one of the circular protrusions that covered his wand.


    A smaller but more muscular man wearing the exact same outfit appeared within the now glowing device. He began walking through various scenarios on the use of the human body. The scruffy looking man attempted to imitate the procedures, but failed every time. The process repeated for what seemed to be an hour, ending only as the human within the box demonstrated his final technique. He grabbed a doll, leapt into the air, turned his body upside down, and smashed the mannequin¡¯s neck into the floor. When the scruffy man attempted to repeat this process with a nearby pillow, he wound up failing his flip, falling over, and hurting himself. After screaming a colourful variety of curses and tearing off his headband, he limped off into another part of the house and vanished.


    Blinking several times, a bewildered Claire turned towards the man¡¯s astral form. He smiled awkwardly. Rather than answering her or explaining himself, he opted to do nothing but go through the motions of sitting atop his couch. He wasn¡¯t actually capable of putting any weight on it, given that he was a weightless spirit to begin with, but floating atop it was enough to demonstrate his intent. Once he was supposedly comfortable, the astral projection began to speak at length.


    ¡°Learn martial arts.¡±


    Log Entry 633


    Detect Force Magic has reached level 2.


    A notification went off in her mind as a summary of the man¡¯s rant plastered itself at the front of her consciousness. She couldn¡¯t tell if the log entry was real. Something about the airy way it echoed in her head made it seem like it had only been a figment of her imagination. But she didn¡¯t have the time to dwell on it.


    With a snap of his fingers, the man caused the scene to shift. She was shown yet another instance where his corporeal form was wearing the dark outfit, but this time, he was sitting in front of a much smaller magical box. His hands manipulated a different wand, a rectangular box with a large knob and several clacky, depressible pieces of an unrecognizable material.


    ¡°Practice.¡±


    Within his glowing artifact, she saw what looked to be a poor illustration of a woman repeating the action that had caused the man to injure herself, except with a twist. A literal twist. Each time she turned upside down, she would spin both her body and her target to add to the force with which she broke her opponent¡¯s neck. Looking at the illustration, she started to think it was somewhat familiar. It was wearing a thin dress underneath a muddy brown cloak. She could see scales both on the soles of its feet and across its cheeks. And its head featured a pair of almost comically large ears.


    But the more she focused on it, the more blurry it became. She could only note its details when she regarded it through her peripherals. And no matter how she tried, she couldn¡¯t deduce its identity. Her mind was too clouded for there to be anything besides a vague sense of familiarity.


    He mouthed a sentence summarized as ¡°Learned?¡± after they watched the blurry illustration repeat the exact same set of actions for what seemed like hours on end. She wasn¡¯t able to discern what it was that she was supposed to have picked up, so all she did was return his gaze with her brows furrowed.


    The lack of a positive reaction seemed to disappoint the man greatly. He sighed to himself and slowly shook his head from side to side.


    ¡°Shame. Out of time."


    Log Entry 634


    Detect Force Magic has reached level 3.


    With another snap of the man¡¯s fingers, the lucid dream ended the same way it always did. Everything vanished. The man, his astral projection, and the house he possessed all faded to the same shade of black. She started to fall, endlessly, into a pit of nothingness. The descent was something that had scared her once, but no longer did it lead to panic. She had even started to enjoy it. Closing her eyes, Claire spread her arms wide and basked in the sensation of plummeting through the darkness. She even flipped herself over so she could feel the rush of the wind against her face.


    Her familiarity with harmlessly falling awake was the precise reason that Claire was so surprised to find her face in pain. Her nose ached. It had been smashed right into the flat part of a root. With how much it was bleeding, she thought herself rather fortunate to discover, with an initial touch, that it was not broken.


    Though Claire was bothered by the pain, her focus was elsewhere. She couldn¡¯t be bothered to stop the bleeding, not when her hands were too preoccupied with pressing her ears down against her head. Desperately, she grit her teeth so she could drown out the bells that were assailing her mind.


    Log Entry 635


    Detect Force Magic has reached level 4.


    Log Entry 636


    You have heeded the Whisper of Mirewood Meadow. The Lord of the Steppe and the Lord of the Slough await those who dare to challenge them.


    Shut up, Box. You¡¯re not helping.


    One small puddle of blood later, the brass contraptions finally died down. She pushed herself off the ground with one of her newly freed hands and pinched the bridge of her nose with the other. Her whole face was sticky, covered with a mixture of red and brown. The bloodstained mud was plastered all over her eyelids, so she kept them shut until she washed her face, after her nosebleed went away.


    Finally ridding herself of any traces of her embarrassing morning mishap, Claire gathered her things and climbed down through the hole that she had dug the night prior. Having suffered at gravity¡¯s hand already, she knew that the world had once again turned itself on its head, so she exited feet first to avoid a second equally embarrassing accident. She still didn¡¯t know exactly where she was, so she started by landing on a branch in hopes that the elevation would provide her a better grasp of her surroundings. The only problem? It didn¡¯t.


    The upside down forest floor refused to provide any hints and the overly dense canopy made it so she was unable to see off into the distance until she climbed through it. Even then, there was nothing of note. There was little but swamp in every direction, as far as the eye could see.


    ¡°This is all that stupid huskar¡¯s fault.¡±


    The halfbreed felt absolutely no remorse in blaming the man. In fact, she was even starting to feel that he had been fully deserving of the kick she had delivered straight to his groin. The rogue had no doubt that she would have had a much better grasp on her whereabouts had he not spent the night randomly teleporting about. But that was only because she was blissfully unaware that the artificer had only warped around to secure his properties against any potential Claire-shaped intruders.


    Even after some additional scouting, she was unable to make heads or tails of her location; she had absolutely no idea where she was supposed to go. Fortunately, she had a solution. The halfbreed retrieved a certain candle from her waist pouch, gave it a spin, and after checking for any nearby birds, headed off in the direction of its wick.

 Chapter 21 - Pests and Poisons II

    Chapter 21 - Pests and Poisons II


    Claire proceeded with caution. She did her best to stay hidden amongst the leaves as she silently moved from tree to tree. Her ears remained perked up throughout the journey, working overtime to ensure that she was aware of everything in her surroundings. It was hard to stay focused for so long, but the halfbreed didn¡¯t mind it too much. Fatigue was the only roadblock she experienced. Traversing the upside-down canopy was otherwise difficulty-free. The individual plants were clustered so closely together that she barely had to worry about watching her feet; there was always a sturdy, central branch to stand on.


    Another benefit derived from avoiding the swamp came in the form of a distinct lack of moisture. She was still sweating and making herself clammy and uncomfortable, but it wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as it had been the previous day. She wasn¡¯t half soaked anymore¡ªher clothes weren¡¯t as heavy, her dress wasn¡¯t sticking to her skin, and best of all, she no longer had to deal with the horror that was getting the bog¡¯s grime stuck between her scales.


    Comfort was certainly a reason that the rogue had stayed out of the water, but it wasn¡¯t the reason. Her number one priority was keeping out of sight.


    The entire meadow forest was filled with birds. Tiny winged dinosaurs were perched in every tree. Only a fraction of them were ravens, and though their cries and thrusters were easily identifiable, it was difficult for her to pick them out when they stayed silent. She could, to an extent, pick out the faint metallic creaks that their less organic parts would make from time to time, but even that was difficult. They were almost always drowned out by all the noise in the background.


    Avoiding the marsh would have been a must, even if it wasn¡¯t a major source of discomfort. It was too open. She would have been spotted by one raven or another if she dropped down for so much as a few minutes. Staying in the trees was all the halfbreed could do to give herself a fighting chance of noticing the black-feathered birds before they noticed her.


    ¡°Stupid achievement,¡± groaned Claire. I was just trying to be nice. All I did was murder a mother and feed her to her kids! ...Okay, admittedly it sounds a lot worse if I put it like that, but whatever. They were just dumb birds.


    Heaving a bit of a sigh, the bluescale began sneaking up on a raven she had spotted from afar. Unlike most of the others, which remained airborne, it was at rest on top of a branch.


    All because I felt bad for them¡­ Ugh¡­ Durham was right¡­ Why does Durham of all people have to be right?


    Her combat instructor had stated on many occasions that feeling pity for one¡¯s foes was the sort of folly that would lead to one¡¯s downfall. As much as she hated him, she was starting to think that he had a point. The crows wouldn¡¯t have marked her had she not let the box guilt trip her into making a mistake.


    Wait! That just means that this is all the box¡¯s fault...


    With another internal groan, the halfbreed closed the distance between her and her target. Her Sneaking skill lightened her footsteps and kept the upside-down bird from perceiving her movements. Once upon it, she stabbed it in two places at once. One dagger pierced its skull while the other broke through its trunk. She knew striking it twice was already overkill, but she turned two attacks to four by activating Double Stab nonetheless. Just so she could feed the skill the experience it needed to grow.


    Log Entry 637


    You have slain a level 12 altered raven.


    Log Entry 638


    Assassinate has reached level 3.


    That reminds me¡­ Why don¡¯t my achievements show up in my status? The only way for me to check them is to go through my log. Stupid box.


    The swift murder of a living creature reminded Claire of a biological need that she had failed to attend to. Hunger. Being one of her more reptilian traits, her stomach rarely complained when it was left empty. She still had to eat regularly if she wanted to keep her strength up, but she never really got hunger pangs. If not prompted, she would on occasion even forget to eat. Such an occurrence was relatively rare, as she was well accustomed to eating at regular intervals, courtesy of her maids, but it certainly did happen, from time to time. Case in point, her current circumstances. She realized, upon reflecting on the previous day, that she had skipped dinner and forgotten about breakfast the morning after.


    Finding herself a nice well concealed perch, Claire sat down and activated Llystletein Authority. Nothing on the list really did much to stimulate her appetite, so she settled for the cheapest option. She activated the skill again and looked through the drink menu as the bread slowly phased into existence. A part of her really wanted to try something other than stale water, but recalling her most recent attempt, the rogue decided to err on the side of caution.


    A large plate of bread formed in her hands right as she finished quenching her thirst. There were several different types of loaves atop it. They came in all different shapes. And though Claire didn¡¯t recognize all of them, she was confident that she would have been able to name more than half, courtesy of a long-lasting acquaintanceship with a certain eccentric chef.


    I miss Amereth, but I¡¯m glad she¡¯s not here. A bit of a smile crossed her lips as the bipedal shark¡¯s freckled face came to mind. She¡¯d throw a fit if she ever had to eat anything this awful.


    Claire grabbed only a single thin loaf from the pile. She knew that she wasn¡¯t going to finish all the bread she had summoned. That wasn¡¯t to say that such a feat was outright impossible, given that her stomach was well suited to expanding beyond what otherwise appeared to be its maximum capacity, but trying was sure to leave her immobile, vulnerable, and half asleep. She was still tempted to give it a shot, just to see how much of the platter she could consume, but the rogue refrained. It really wasn¡¯t a good idea.


    After kicking the plate through a gap in the canopy, just to rid herself of any further temptation, the halfbreed stretched and got to eating. There was a big splash as the oversized ceramic dish hit the water, but Claire wasn¡¯t particularly concerned. The various semi-aquatic creatures strewn throughout the region made similar commotions each time they repeated the transition from land to swamp and back.


    Much to nobody¡¯s surprise, the bread was every bit as tasteless and awful as everything else the skill had created. The excessively hard texture made it extremely unpleasant to eat, but Claire didn¡¯t bother complaining. She was too busy thinking about her next steps to care.


    The most important thing on her agenda was escaping Mirewood Meadow. Hunting the various monsters that lived within it was another task of considerable value. Most of them seemed weaker than the ones on the previous floor, and she was certain that they would function as a decent source of experience. The only problem was that there were no opportunities for her to fight them. The ravens were still on the hunt, and even Claire understood that it was best to lie low, either until they relented or she escaped their territory, the bounds of which remained a mystery.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The best-case scenario was leaving by sundown. Another overnight stay seemed foolish if not outright suicidal. She knew that she had only survived the first by chance. Anything with a decent nose could have easily caught wind of her, and the simple burrow she had constructed had only one exit; there had been no way for her to run. The safe zone was the only tool she had to ensure that she wouldn¡¯t be attacked in her sleep and five days needed to pass before she could create another.


    Escape and experience aside, the only other goal the rogue had in mind was to pick up more equipment. She had lost half her weapons during her previous encounter. Three of the armaments she had on hand had quite literally vanished overnight and there was no telling when the remaining three would kick the bucket. Or at least that was what she thought until she recalled that she had looted a certain huskar¡¯s house.


    Swallowing the last piece of her bread loaf, the petite halfbreed undid her new bag¡¯s straps and confirmed that the kitchen tools she had acquired were all present and accounted for. The clothes were there as well, but she knew that trying to put them on would be pointless. They were all far too large for her. She was going to need to modify them before she could put them on, so she left them in the bag and extracted only the knife block and its contents.


    All in all, there were ten knives stuck within the oversized wooden sheath. Two of them were without pointed tips. Their blades were rectangular, and while one was smaller than the other, they were both significantly thicker and longer than all their peers. The remaining eight, Claire recognized as standard knives of different sizes. Their forms weren¡¯t exactly identical, as some had serrated edges, and others had odd deformities in their blades, but they still remained relatively familiar, even if she was unable to put a name or purpose to each individual utensil. Not that she needed to. The only bit of knowledge she required was that of their sharpness, and that was something she obtained very quickly.


    Playing around with the various knives led her to realize that wearing them on her person was infeasible. They were too dangerous. Every single one of them could cut through wood with next to no difficulty, and her scales and skin were unlikely to offer any more resistance than the tough plant fibre. She would have to keep them sheathed if she wanted to avoid cutting herself and there was no way for her to equip the entire wooden block that they were stored in. Strapping it to her person wasn¡¯t exactly practical.


    After wrapping her experiments up, she put away all but two of the blades. The first she kept on hand was the one that most closely resembled the sort of knife seen at the dinner table. Its blade was short, only slightly longer than its handle, but it compensated with a set of jagged teeth near its tip. She knew that the steak knife¡¯s bite could chew through a cow¡¯s flesh with little effort, and saw no reason for a monster¡¯s to be any different. The second knife was one that she failed to recognize. Its tiny curved blade was even shorter than the first¡¯s. Its most notable trait seemed to be that it was flexible, but she couldn¡¯t quite figure out why.


    Once her weapons were ready, she activated her authority skill and selected the option that she had meant to test the night prior, one that would also relieve her of a biological need whose name she wasn¡¯t inclined to mention. An odd sensation emerged in her abdomen as soon as she made her selection. It felt like something was changing, but she couldn¡¯t pinpoint exactly what that something was. The feeling lasted only for the briefest moments. She waited with bated breath for her body to expel the magical energy that her waste had supposedly become, but nothing happened, not even after she sat completely still for what seemed like several minutes.


    The lack of any noticable effects confused her at first, but her bewilderment vanished as she realized that her urge to excuse herself had long vanished. Her eyes lit up and her ears started fluttering up and down on their own as her mind processed the ramifications wrought by the action¡¯s silence. It was literally everything she wanted. The power to stealthily use the bathroom wherever and whenever she pleased was hers to abuse.


    The thought that she would never again have to concern herself with noble etiquette was one that left her equal parts overjoyed and depressed. And contemplating it didn¡¯t exactly make things any better. The more time she spent thinking, the more the latter emotion seemed to cement. She found herself bothered by the sudden departure from the only life she knew. But that wasn¡¯t necessarily a bad thing.


    I¡¯ve always wanted to be able to make my own decisions. And now I can.


    Shaking her head clear of any remaining negative thoughts, the rogue got up, stretched, spun the candle, and got back on the move. In pursuit of freedom.


    ___


    I hate making my own decisions.


    Three random changes in direction later, a very lost Claire came to the conclusion that freedom could be as detrimental as it was beneficial. Though the circumstances appeared to imply that the decision to alter her route was to blame, the halfbreed felt she wasn¡¯t entirely at fault. She had only veered off course to avoid the areas the ravens nested in en masse. And while it may have been true that she had no idea where she was, she had at least managed to escape the black-feathered birds¡¯ domain.


    Their headcount had continued to dwindle as she traveled and something in the realm of half an hour had elapsed since she last spotted one. But that was true of more than just the birds. The number of other monsters in general had dropped drastically as well.


    While the ravens¡¯ domain had primarily featured oaks, the trees that populated her current location were much more diverse. Some were stockier and had rounded tops while others were much taller and thinner, with branches that were difficult for the halfbreed to traverse. Another significant change came in the form of the water level. It wasn¡¯t nearly as high. There were still ponds and small bogs all over the place, but generally speaking, the realm below was more meadow than marsh.


    Of the monsters that she did see on occasion, few were recognizable. Most of them were larger woodland beasts roaming the forest floor above, but she wasn¡¯t sure what exactly they were. That was in part because she didn¡¯t know what they were to begin with, and in part because she hadn¡¯t been able to keep sight of them for long periods at once; they often vanished as quickly as they appeared.


    Though she was itching for a fight, now that she was much less likely to be swarmed by an unreasonably large mob of cyborgs, she found herself unable to engage them. There was no real way for her to attach herself to the forest floor. At first, she had been frustrated by the development, but it wasn¡¯t a big enough deal to drive her to loiter around and think of a solution. Because she had a destination in sight, a large wall off in the distance. She had thought that it was the exit at first, but getting closer revealed that she was just as wrong as usual.


    It was indeed a large wall, tall enough to span the gap between the two inverted realms, but it wasn¡¯t anything like the one that she had emerged from. The only similarity the two shared was their height. While the exit was made of stone and seemed like a part of the dungeon, the landmark was artificial and constructed from wood. Unlike its rocky counterpart, the wooden wall also didn¡¯t exactly go on for what seemed like forever. It was certainly large; there was no mistaking that, but it was also clearly finite.


    Getting even closer provided the observation that it was crude at best. Many of the materials used in the crooked border were barely processed. The excess branches had been haphazardly torn off, but that was it. The trunks were left completely uncut, and in some cases, even the bark was untouched.


    There were even gaps present all along its length. Most of the larger ones were patched, filled with branches and sticks. But the smaller holes, the ones that came about naturally as a result of the boundary¡¯s poor construction, were left as is. She was able to catch a few glimpses of what lay beyond, but she wasn¡¯t close enough to make out the details, nor was she able to get any closer without running the risk of being spotted.


    The site, which she assumed to be some sort of settlement, was well guarded. Groups of small bipedal creatures patrolled its perimeter. Labeling their dark red bodies as ugly and unpleasant would make for a series of understatements at best. Fuzzy red squirrel-like tails aside, they were hairless and scaleless; their wart-covered skin was laid bare for all to see. Some were so marred by growths that she couldn¡¯t tell if they had one nose or four. She was almost tempted to conclude that they were goblins, based on their crooked malformed ears, but their body-length tails spoke to the contrary. Goblin tails were only supposed to be stubs.


    As they were moving in groups and coordinating with one another, she was under the impression that they were at least somewhat intelligent. But that was not by any means a signal for her to attempt communication. She knew better than to try something so futile. The only sounds they were capable of making, from her observations, were high pitched squeaks. She was never going to be able to understand them.


    In other words, they were fair game, lambs to the slaughter, just like the barbarians to the north.


    Brandishing her knives, Claire did as any sensible person in her situation would. She sought a straggler.

 Chapter 22 - Pests and Poisons III

    Chapter 22 - Pests and Poisons III


    Beckard Links awoke from his afternoon nap as he sensed a presence near his door. Uncurling his body and wiping his face with the sock he kept hidden underneath his desk, the feline retrieved a quill from his drawer. It was a pointless endeavour. Everyone knew his work ethic bordered the line of non-existent, but the feline was insistent in keeping up appearances. A cat was nothing without his pride, after all.


    His guests began knocking on his door right as he finished patting the dust off his robe. Three short but sonorous strikes, each made immediately after the other. Though the rapping was far from light, he could tell that the person responsible was one of a small stature, a perk of the class he had recently acquired.


    ¡°Come in.¡±


    He admitted the visitors with a grumpy growl. Unlike many other cats, he was hairless, and not by birthright. Many would have described the state of his body as tragic. The man in question, however, was convinced that it was anything but. It was an intentional choice made in Flux¡¯s name. His goddess found most males distasteful, and those with hair or fur were especially disliked.


    ¡°Neil, Eric, Meg. You¡¯ve returned.¡± He took a moment to study the expressions on each of the werebears¡¯ faces, a feat only possible because none of them were in their more ursine forms. ¡°I¡¯m guessing it didn¡¯t go well.¡±


    ¡°No, Beck. It didn¡¯t.¡±


    Neil, the runt of the group, slowly shook his head from side to side. His words were quiet, barely audible beneath the weight of his emotions.


    ¡°Stop being such a fucking twat and say it already, one-eye. If you don¡¯t, then I will.¡±


    Eric, the burliest of the three, kicked the other man¡¯s leg in frustration. He was the only member of the group not present by choice. The other two had dragged him along because he was both the most observant and the one with the best memory. Only he would be able to answer most of Beckard¡¯s queries.


    Knowing that was precisely what turned the angriest bearman off from tagging along. He hated dealing with Beckard. Saying that he did his best to avoid him was an understatement. It wasn¡¯t because of the bald gentleman¡¯s personality or his propensity to ask questions befitting of his position. It was because of his appearance. The once abyssal marksman simply could not stand seeing the tomcat as he was now. Shaving off all his fur was not the only act of self-mutilation that the once orange tabby had performed in his goddess¡¯ name.


    ¡°You may as well. That might be for the best.¡±


    ¡°Fucking short ass pussy! This is why I like your ass better as a lamppost. Least you¡¯re less of a coward that way,¡± Eric clicked his tongue as he turned to the feline. ¡°Fine! Listen here Dickface, Gurd¡¯s fucking dead. Kicked the bucket and got himself eaten by a fucking hellhog. We found the shortdick¡¯s skull and brought it back with us. Even buried the fucker just outside the citadel yesterday morning.¡±


    ¡°A hellhog? Odd. It¡¯s hard to imagine Gurd falling to a hellhog.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well this one¡¯s probably nearing fifty. Hell, might¡¯ve even hit it by now. We found a few traces of some shithead snooping around the goddamn nest. No idea what happened to the guy, but he¡¯s either got balls the size of his brain or a brain the size of his balls. Probably dead now though. I bet the only reason it wasn¡¯t there when we were was ¡®cause it was off chasing the dumbfuck down.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like it¡¯ll be a problem. We¡¯ll have to let the others know to avoid the area. Where was it?¡±


    ¡°Take a guess, Dickhead.¡± Eric smirked.


    ¡°Oh no, not again.¡± Beckard fell flat on his belly and curled his tail up next to his rear. ¡°Please tell me it wasn¡¯t right by the equitaur¡¯s chamber.¡±


    ¡°Hey, look at that. Even your dumb hairless ass got it right first try.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to tell the others to avoid the area and pray to Flux that it stays away from the exit. We don¡¯t need another veaber incident.¡±


    The shaved cat stood up onto his hind legs and paced around his desk while cradling his head with both his front paws. The possibility of another stampede was not a pleasant thought. Lone veabers were not a threat. In fact, they more often killed themselves than not. A sudden artificial surge in their population, however, was. The buck tooth rodents were sure to provide the other more fearsome monsters with the fodder that they needed to grow. And if there was one thing that the citadel did not need, it was another lord wandering the dungeon.


    ¡°First Archibald, and now you lot? Why does everyone have to bring nothing but bad news?¡± groaned Beckard.


    ¡°Archibald? Why was that creep here?¡±


    Meg, who had been silent throughout the conversation, finally chimed in. But not because she wanted to know more about the person that Beckard had mentioned. If anything, it was the opposite. She wanted him as far from the citadel as could be.


    ¡°Apparently, to report that he¡¯s been robbed and attacked.¡± Beckard climbed down the side of his desk, opened one of his drawers, and retrieved a sheet of paper. ¡°Several pieces of enchanted equipment were taken from his home, including, apparently, his runecloak.¡±


    ¡°A runecloak¡¯s worth a pretty penny. I could name a few guys that¡¯d kill a fucker for one. Hell, I¡¯d do it.¡± said Eric. "But you know what, wrenchdick? Shit like that ain¡¯t our business. This ain¡¯t the sort of place that¡¯s gonna look after you. Only people who¡¯ll do that are your buddies, and since he¡¯s an artificer, he ain¡¯t got none. He¡¯s lucky none of the monks have killed him in his sleep.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, it is our business.¡±


    ¡°And why the fuck is that?¡±


    ¡°Because the thief was most likely an ascended borrok. He didn¡¯t get too good of a look at it, since you know how his eyes are, but it had huge ears and stood at about waist height. His birds attacked it on sight too, apparently.¡±


    ¡°Before you ask, we¡¯re not going to scout Borrok Peak. It¡¯s too dangerous.¡±


    Neil gave the feline an almost hostile gaze.


    ¡°You won¡¯t be the only ones.¡±


    ¡°No means no, Beck.¡±


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    ¡°What? You scared of a few borrokspawn, one-eye? Fucking pussy. Just fucking take the goddamn job and stop moping around. You¡¯ve done nothing but sit in your room, wallow in shit, and touch yourself for nearly two fucking days, using one round as lube for the next.¡±


    ¡°Eric! That¡¯s disgusting!¡± complained Meg.


    ¡°But it¡¯s true. Ask him and see what he says. Fucker isn¡¯t even trying to get over Gurd, even though we all knew the shortdick was going to kick the fucking bucket eventually with all the dumb as bricks risks he was taking. One-eye¡¯s just being a huge pussy. Got nothing but bitch between his legs.¡±


    ¡°Being afraid is the reasonable thing to do. Our racial levels are too high. Our new skills and classes have barely made any progress. Tell me, Eric, how do you plan to fight a borrok with no weapon masteries?¡±


    ¡°By using your stats and punching the ever-loving shit out of it like a man?¡±


    Eric began shadow boxing as he spoke. His fists whistled through the air, creating tiny shockwaves with every strike, but as he lacked any real technique, it looked more like he was flailing about than showing off. Unimpressive, to say the least.


    ¡°You won¡¯t have to fight them,¡± said Beckard. ¡°I just want more people in the area so we can learn as much as we can.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going, no matter what you say, Beck,¡± said Neil.


    ¡°Because you¡¯re a fucking pussy.¡±


    ¡°I agree with Neil, Eric. It¡¯s a really bad idea.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Meg. You¡¯re literally a pussy.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that even supposed to mean!?¡±


    ¡°You know exactly what the fuck it means, you fat whore. I know you tried to fuck Carter last night. He told me all about how he had to spend the better part of an hour rejecting your bitch ass. So much for loving Gurd, eh?¡±


    ¡°How dare you!¡±


    ¡°Can the two of you please settle down?¡±


    Beckard flopped on his belly and groaned after realizing that neither of the two had actually heard him.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. They¡¯ll likely be at this for another hour,¡± said Neil.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s relocate. I would like to discuss terms, and it isn¡¯t possible with them around.¡±


    ¡°I told you, Beck, we¡¯re not going. We need to kill the hog that got Gurd.¡±


    ¡°Well, then what if I was to lend you a hand with that?¡±


    ___


    Locating a straggler proved incredibly difficult. Claire tried circling around the walls and scouting the nearby area, but to little avail. It didn¡¯t matter if they were above or below. Most of them traveled in groups, and the few that were alone were always within range of a nearby patrol. She had been tempted to try her hand at a sneak attack regardless, as she felt that she would likely score a kill if she successfully activated Assassinate, but she refrained. There was no telling what would happen if she failed.


    Only after expanding the range of her search did she finally come across a squirrel man too far from the others to call for help, but not even it was immediately deemed a suitable target. Unlike her, the naked goblin rat wasn¡¯t being pulled towards the marshy meadow. Its feet were attached to the forest¡¯s floor instead. That wasn¡¯t to say it was out of reach. Positioning herself atop a particularly low branch would have put it within range of attack. The only problem was that the approach was highly suspect. It left her with too little room to move around, too little room to compensate for a botched assassination. But she decided to try it anyway. She couldn¡¯t bring herself not to. It was the only lone wolf she¡¯d found in what felt like several straight hours of searching.


    The halfbreed retrieved the knives she had been playing around with earlier in the day and slowly snuck her way behind her prey. Keeping an eye on it throughout informed her that it was in the middle of foraging. Every once in a while, it would approach a tree and dig around its root system. Each of the spiny black lumps it found was immediately consumed, thrown into its maw and swallowed without reservation.


    She raised her knives right as it began digging for another subterranean mushroom. She didn¡¯t bother activating Double Stab, opting to experiment with a more recent acquisition instead.


    Envenom


    Poisons Available


    - Bee Venom (5MP)


    - Raven Rocket Fuel (50MP)


    Out of Combat Persistence


    - None


    - Temporary (+10% MP Cost per Minute)


    - Permanent (+1000% MP Cost)


    It wasn¡¯t her first time opening Envenom¡¯s menu and she was at least aware of how the skill functioned. She had to choose both a poison and a persistence level for it to activate. Intuitively, she understood that persistence was only relevant outside of a fight. Any poison she synthesized would last the battle¡¯s full duration, but more mana was needed for it to remain if it failed to find a target.


    Selecting non persistent rocket fuel, she kicked herself off the branch and drove both knives inside her target while it remained unaware of her presence. She felt Assassinate activate as soon as her weapons dug into the creature¡¯s back, amplifying the damage she dealt. Her knives ran deep and her momentum allowed her to rip out a huge chunk of its flesh as she passed it by. Expecting to see a fresh entry, Claire looked towards her log, but the feed was blank. Nothing new had shown up at all.


    The rogue spun around and turned her eyes towards her foe, which had suddenly started to shriek. It was clearly injured. Two long slashes ran from its back through its left flank, one thin and nearly invisible, made obvious only by the amber-colour liquid it seeped, and the other an obvious mutilated mess. The larger wound looked nothing short of fatal, but neither was even close. The not-squirrel was still brimming with vitality.


    With the hairs on its tail raised, the otherwise naked rodent dashed towards the tree she was in. It shot up the hardwood¡¯s trunk with a speed that didn¡¯t quite seem possible for a creature of its stature and made a beeline right for her. Oddly enough, It appeared unbothered by her upside down position. It even began running along what it perceived as a branch¡¯s underside just to meet her head on.


    Half panicked, the rogue dropped down to avoid the attack. Or at least she tried. The branch she had been standing on contorted the moment she stepped off of it, reeling itself back to an unnatural degree before snapping towards her like a whip. She was able to put up her arms in time to stop the various smaller twigs from scratching her face, but that was the only part of her body she was able to protect. Her exposed gut was hit by a heavy blow that left her winded and unable to stay balanced.


    The branch she had attempted to land on evidently didn¡¯t feel like doing her any favours either, as it also attacked her. Bashing itself into her back, it propelled her towards the wart-covered squirrel, which headbutted her flank and sent her flying off into the canopy. The charge¡¯s momentum carried her for over ten meters. She wasn¡¯t able to stop tumbling until she crashed.


    Groaning in pain, the rogue picked herself up off the branch she landed on and eyed her health. Only a quarter of it was gone, even though she felt much worse for wear. Though the first two hits had caught her off guard, neither had seemed to do as much damage as the final strike. They had barely hurt her, likely because they were magical in nature.


    Claire recognized the spell that the not-squirrel had cast. It was the same one that Allegra had shown her when she demonstrated her wood magic, as well as the reason the halfbreed had decided against taking up the element. It just seemed boring. The power to order a tree around was much less interesting or impressive than the power to light said tree aflame. Knowing that she had gotten caught off guard by Treearm, of all things, led Claire to cringe. She was ashamed, insulted. The rogue had never exactly possessed a soldier¡¯s pride, but even so, she was nothing if not outright offended by the fact that she had been hit by such a boring spell.


    Reorienting herself, she activated Tracking to pinpoint the foe she had lost.


    Only to find that it had chosen retreat.


    She tried chasing it down by hopping from branch to branch, but she knew she couldn¡¯t catch it.


    ¡°You have to be kidding me!¡±


    Claire was so annoyed she nearly cursed. The not-squirrel had run for the walls. In the few seconds it had taken her to reorient herself, the sole straggler that she had found after hours of searching had refused to fight her even though it was clearly at an advantage. Worse yet was that it was significantly faster than her. There was no way she would be able to catch it before it reached safety.


    Log Entry 639


    Tracking has reached level 5.


    Shut up, box. I wasn¡¯t looking for a consolation prize.


    But that didn¡¯t mean that she was going to give up.

 Chapter 23 - Pests and Poisons IV

    Chapter 23 - Pests and Poisons IV


    Claire crawled through the canopy at a pace slow enough to put a snail to shame. Reducing her speed was paramount to navigating the area around the heavily guarded wooden fortress. Though she had two skills that aided in concealing her, neither were truly capable of keeping her out of sight. Moving around too much and standing in plain sight would both get her spotted.


    Circling the fence¡¯s perimeter led the blue blooded rogue to conclude that the naked squirrel rats were unintelligent. Her reason? A lack of doors. She couldn¡¯t find anything even remotely resembling a gate no matter how hard she looked. The only way to access the settlement was to squirm through one of the many small holes that decorated its outer wall, and that was not something she was willing to do. The biggest contributor to her hesitation was a lack of vision. There was no way for her to determine if there were any squirrel-goblins standing guard on the other side of an entryway, nor was there any way for her to retreat if she was spotted. Escaping a wood mage in a forest was impossible.


    Still, it wasn¡¯t as if infiltrating the enemy stronghold was entirely out of the question. If no existing entrance was safe, then all she had to do was create a new one. Surprisingly, she found that particular idea just as easily done as it was said. It was rare for her to go any more than a few minutes without her ears picking up a patrol, but she was able to locate a suitable entrance nonetheless. One of the larger patched up holes she found was in the perfect position. A large tree blocked it from view and guaranteed that she would remain undetected while she made her way inside.


    The hole¡¯s plug was haphazard at best, made up of nothing but a stack of sticks. The tiny branches weren¡¯t cleverly engineered to stay where they were, nor were they cleverly strewn together with a locking mechanism. They were simply packed so tightly that their sheer volume kept them in place. Taking the primitive solution apart proved simple. The only inconvenience Claire experienced was gravity. Every single stick in the pile was attracted to the forest¡¯s floor. That made lifting them incredibly easy, but she felt like she had to actively hold them down if she didn¡¯t want the unprocessed wood to suddenly boost itself into the forest floor above. The halfbreed soon learned, purely through happenstance, that the sticks at the bottom of the pile were the least weighed down and easiest to remove. But much to her annoyance, her understanding didn¡¯t make handling the wood any less intuitive.


    A lack of intuition wasn¡¯t the only problem she had to face either. She began to hear a faint metallic chirping about a quarter of the way through the stick removal process. The rogue froze the moment she caught it, as she had thought that the noise had come from a raven, but its source was the wall¡¯s interior. Continuing to dig eventually led a small orb of iron to drop down from the stick pile. Her first thought was that it was most likely something made by an artificer. The heartbeat-like blue pulse it emitted from time to time was all but indicative of a forge-based origin. She had been tempted to take it along with her at first, as it seemed capable of serving as a hefty projectile if nothing else, but stopped short as soon as she recalled a certain dog-faced annoyance.


    This is probably his, isn¡¯t it? I should break it. It¡¯s his fault I¡¯m lost.


    Something about the idea of carelessly disassembling his property warmed her heart, so she set it down next to her and kicked it as hard as she could.


    ¡°Ow!¡±


    The orb flew off into the forest, landing somewhere out of sight. Her foot was in pain, for reasons, but she decided to write the sequence of events off as a win nonetheless. While she was certainly missing a few points of health, the metallic orb had probably also suffered in the process. Probably.


    Log Entry 640


    Sneaking has reached level 7.


    Claire began examining the hole as she nursed her foot. The rogue had already caught a good few glimpses of the fence¡¯s interior, but opening up a massive cavity provided the best view yet. Studying the scene, she finally came to understand why she had never been able to make out anything of note from afar. There simply wasn¡¯t anything to be seen. The fortified settlement was much emptier than the forest that contained it. Not a single tree stood within its border. Every last one had been chopped down and harvested for use in construction.


    Opposite fence aside, there was nothing to see but the occasional tower. Each wooden high-rise was distinctly malformed, courtesy of the redskins¡¯ primitive construction skills, but their overall designs appeared to be the same. They were all windowless rectangular edifices that bridged the gap between the two parallel worlds.


    And that was it.


    There was nothing else.


    The ample light that filtered its way through the less-than-perfect fence allowed her to confirm that the ground was barren, both above and below. Most of the vegetation had been outright removed if not wilted and trampled. Everything, everything was covered in a layer of putrid ooze. Everywhere she looked, she saw nothing but muck, grime, and manure. The complete and utter lack of hygiene reaffirmed the suspicion that the redskins were just mutant goblins. Most green tongues used the pitiful bit of intelligence they possessed to worship the plague gods, and as a result, lived their lives wallowing in their own filth. They were so unsanitary that even flies and mosquitoes shied away from their camps.


    Contrary to her expectations, the interior was nearly deserted. There were only a few small groups roaming around the compound, none of which were guards. Even the spires were empty, if her ears were to be believed. The rodent population seemed oddly skewed. It was like there were more guards than there were civilians.


    What are they? Ants?


    The insect analogy only started to make more sense as she continued to observe. Most of the individuals navigating the nest were doing so with purpose. They appeared to be workers, as they were all either moving towards a very specific central building or navigating towards an exit. The groups that were headed inwards did so with various objects in hand. Of the fifty-odd load-bearing monsters, over half were carrying something particularly eye-catching. Fruit. Claire had no idea where they were getting the oversized crimson berries; she hadn¡¯t seen anything of the sort throughout the course of her exploration. As someone recently deprived of anything that actually tasted like food, the halfbreed found herself charmed by the thought of pilfering a few for herself. Not that she was a thief. Or in possession of any stolen goods whatsoever.


    Clothes? Knives? What are those? I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.


    Fruit aside, the squirrels weren¡¯t carrying too much of interest. They had frogs, deer, and many other critters, alongside buckets of swamp water, but that was it. Nothing else quite caught Claire¡¯s eye. Not that it mattered. Her course of action had long been carved in stone. Seeing the large ripe berries had long led her to choose a life of larceny. Even though she had never quite liked fruit to begin with.


    Her next objective decided, the halfbreed shook her head free of the distraction, redirected her focus, and sought out her target.


    She crawled through her makeshift entrance and dropped down to the floor with a splat. Making noise was unavoidable. The ground was muddy with swamp water, among other things, and there was nothing for her to grab onto to stop or even slow her descent. Fortunately, she was able to remain undetected. Her Sneaking skill aided her in dampening the wet squelch.


    The rogue closed her eyes and centered her attention on the mark in her mind. The skill wasn¡¯t able to pinpoint the red-tailed beast¡¯s precise location, but it did at least assist her in identifying the building that the rodent had fled to. It wasn¡¯t too far. Only a few hundred meters remained between them.


    Along the way, she found herself struck by the sudden urge to contemplate the nature of her target. It didn¡¯t seem as weak as any of the other monsters she had encountered in the marsh forest. The heavy blow she had landed barely phased it, even though weaker attacks had easily ended frogs and ravens alike. And that was without taking the assassination bonus into account.


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    The redskin¡¯s durability was not exactly a call for concern in and of itself, as different monsters had different traits and specialties. What was concerning, however, was that the squirrel-goblin had not been a defensive specialist. It was clearly faster than Claire was, even when injured, and its attack power wasn¡¯t all that subdued either. It wasn¡¯t capable of dishing out extreme amounts of damage, but its hits were far from lackluster, especially for something capable of inflicting damage through both might and magic.


    Claire was starting to suspect that she was biting off more than she could chew. The naked tree rats were likely a much higher level than her, either that, or they were a part of an innately powerful race. The only other possibility she had in mind was that they were ascendants, but that was unlikely. Entire races didn¡¯t simply ascend together. Whatever the case, the rodent¡¯s stats were likely higher than hers.


    Envenom didn¡¯t really do anything, did it?


    She frowned as she reflected on the skill¡¯s lack of an effect. Whatever it did to the redskin was lackluster at best. The wart-covered freak hadn¡¯t seemed even the slightest bit bothered by the poison, nor did it appear to suffer from the sudden onset lethargy that had plagued her when she had consumed it. Not that she knew how fast it was supposed to have been to begin with.


    I guess I¡¯m not using that worthless skill anymore.


    Upon arriving at the spire, Claire suddenly became cognizant of a fact that left her incredibly annoyed. The building was just like the fence. It didn¡¯t have a door, nor did it have any stairs. The only way to access the closest entrance, which was roughly three Claires off the ground, was to climb.


    Suppressing a groan, the halfbreed started to reach for the tower. There were many places for her to grab. Like the fence, it was made of untrimmed wood with many a branch still attached. But though she managed to reach it, she never tightened her grip on the protrusion that she had set her eyes on. A life changing realization, a bolt from the blue, had frozen her in place. The sticks near the tower¡¯s base were the easiest to manipulate. Despite how they appeared, they weren¡¯t being held down by those on top of them. Breaking and entering was as easy as removing one thick branch and squeezing through the resulting gap.


    Her initial impression of the interior was that it was dull, lacking, and surprisingly well lit. Not even two layers of wooden filters could stop the light from seeping through and illuminating her surroundings. The only furnishings she could find were upside down beds made out of branches and leaves. There was nothing else. No desks, no drawers, no tables, no nightstands, no dressers, nothing. Poking her head out through the room¡¯s sole exit led her to discover that all the other chambers were the same, and that more importantly, the concept of a hallway was one the redskins failed to understand. The rooms were connected only to one another.


    Finding her target within the poorly thought out building proved incredibly simple. It was on the same elevation as her, so all it took for her to reach it was a little bit of sneaking around. Not that any of the sneaking was even remotely necessary. All of the rooms she passed through had been empty and devoid of life.


    Looking through the doorway, Claire realized that the red-skinned squirrel goblin wasn¡¯t exactly as unscathed as it had previously appeared. Unlike her, it had yet to regenerate all the health it lost during their encounter. In fact, its wounds hadn¡¯t even begun to heal. Both gashes were still leaking a sickly dark yellow fluid. As were all its orifices. Its eyes, nose, mouth, and ears all bled profusely, soaking the ceiling in its vital fluids.


    Though it was near the room¡¯s entrance, it failed to notice her advent. It didn¡¯t twitch or react in any way as she drew closer and closer. Not even positioning herself directly underneath it was enough to merit a response. It was too preoccupied with coughing to care that it was within reach of her arms. The dying squirrel lacked the strength to move. It could do nothing but hack and wheeze as it slowly choked on its own blood.


    Log Entry 641


    You have slain a level 7 Llystletein caveveaber.


    Caveveaber...?


    Log Entry 642


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 1 point of agility


    - 3 points of dexterity


    - 2 points of spirit


    - 1 point of strength


    - 1 point of vitality


    - 2 points of wisdom


    Log Entry 643


    One of your spawnable food items has been upgraded.


    Log Entry 644


    Envenom has reached level 2.


    Log Entry 645


    Tracking has reached level 6.


    Log Entry 646


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Halfbreed, has reached level 17.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Rogue, has reached level 22.


    You have gained 8 ability points.


    I¡¯m so confused.


    It took a moment for her to settle down and process all the information she had been presented with. The first and most frustrating realization to hit her was that she had just wasted the better part of her evening. Her mark had succumbed to her poison without any additional interference. She could have easily earned the exact same reward without investing any additional effort had she simply turned tail and left. The worst part of it all was that there had been no way for her to learn of the monster¡¯s impending death. She would have wound up regretting her decision regardless of which she made. All thanks to Envenom.


    I¡¯m sorry, Envenom. I shouldn¡¯t have called you worthless. I still hate you though.


    One tired groan later, Claire shifted gears and began contemplating a more pressing issue: the monster¡¯s species. Her log appeared to tell her that it was a Llystletein Caveveaber, but believing it was difficult at best. The dead squirrel-goblin didn¡¯t even come close to resembling any of the other caveveabers she had encountered. Its tail was longer and more suited to an arboreal lifestyle, and its feet lacked the webbing that its supposed relative¡¯s toes featured. The little bit of fur that it did have was a completely different colour, and its placement almost seemed like the exact opposite of the veabers¡¯. Their tails had been their only hairless body parts, not their only hairy ones. Incisors aside, there were no notable similarities whatsoever.


    The halfbreed was so confused by the development that she even bashed the supposed veaber over the head with her mace, just to make sure that it was the death her log had informed her of.


    Log Entry 647


    You have slain a level 1 altered raven.


    Huh? What? How? There¡¯s no way that was a raven!


    The supposed raven¡¯s level was yet another point of contention. Level one was supposed to be reserved for newborns. Most creatures outgrew it in their first few weeks. Some would even skip the first level altogether. And while Claire had no idea if the squirrel-goblin was anything that even remotely resembled an infant, she was at least fairly certain that it was capable of keeping itself alive. Unless some crazy reptile girl stabbed it in the back, of course.


    Thinking about it, Claire decided that the first log entry was most likely the one that corresponded to the rodent¡¯s death, as it was much closer to a caveveaber than it was a mechanical bird. Even though it didn¡¯t look like a beaver. Or live in a cave.


    But then where did the other kill come from?


    One frustrated groan later, a less than content halfbreed decided to blame everything, including the apparent death of a random raven, on the veaber¡¯s Llystletein tag. And she felt more than justified in doing so. The modifier was already throwing her for yet another loop. She knew that it was a bonus of sorts and that it was only natural for the veaber possessing it to be stronger than any of the others she had fought before, but the rodent¡¯s level simply hadn¡¯t made any sense. Every other caveveaber she had encountered had been in the double digits, with most hovering somewhere in the range of 20. Her most recent kill, on the other hand, was only level seven.


    That particular topic was one that the halfbreed didn¡¯t dwell on for long. It did confuse her, but she had no intention of chasing down an answer. The study of levels and experience was a science in and of itself, and she had absolutely no interest in any of the sciences. As far as she was concerned, only one thing mattered, and that was that the veaber had provided her with an incredible set of bonuses on death.


    Llysltetein monsters seem like they¡¯re really good experience. If only there was somewhere I could go hunt them.


    Wait a second...


    After a brief delay, the halfbreed recalled that there was a legion of monsters just like it awaiting her, just outside the spire. Each was just as ripe and ready to be picked as the first. All she had to do was figure out how she was supposed to go about the harvest.


    She already knew that taking them out one by one wasn¡¯t an option. The rodents preferred moving in groups. Locating a far off straggler had taken an entire afternoon, and Claire had already started to suspect that it was nothing but a one time stroke of luck. It wasn¡¯t happening again. Likewise, attacking even a group was completely out of the question. She was much more likely to die than she was to succeed.


    Is there any other way?


    The first alternative to come to mind was ritual magic, but Claire was no longer a ritual mage, not that being one would have helped. The only death-inducing rite she was aware of was one that would only activate upon the caster¡¯s demise.


    She needed a less direct approach, a method of killing the monsters that didn¡¯t involve combat or self-harm. And it just so happened that she had one such method in mind.


    All she had to do was follow in her father¡¯s footsteps. By poisoning their water source.

 Chapter 24 - Pests and Poisons V

    Chapter 24 - Pests and Poisons V


    There were two ways to go about polluting the veabers¡¯ water supply. The typical approach was to corrupt the source directly. But in Claire¡¯s particular situation, the more common solution was also the less applicable one. The arboreal cave dwellers were unlike the sentient and awakened in that they didn¡¯t get their water from wells or springs. They were just grabbing whatever happened to be available, which in their case was the murky brown-green liquid that filled the swamp. And as there was far too much of that to poison, she had no choice but to seek an alternative.


    Her second idea involved sneaking into the central tower where the redskins were taking their buckets. At a glance, plan B looked like the more favourable of the two answers, but a more careful analysis revealed that it was just as suspect, albeit for a completely different set of reasons. The first and foremost was that the innermost tower was well guarded. That wasn¡¯t to say that the veabers were actively guarding it. There weren¡¯t any patrols or obvious guards within the walls. The security came instead as a function of traffic. While the camp itself was rather depopulated, the building at its center was swarming with squirrel people. Just about every single veaber was either moving directly to or from it.


    Though the community¡¯s main storehouse was far from lavish, it did at least appear larger than the others in its cohort. That, however, wasn¡¯t to say that it was any taller, longer, or wider. What it had, that the other towers didn¡¯t, was a countless number of extensions built into its trunk. The extrusions were large upside-down platforms held in place by scaffolding. They weren¡¯t exactly balconies, but they appeared to serve the same purpose. Squirrels of all different widths could be seen lounging on top of them.


    Unlike the veabers in charge of transporting goods, the ones on the platforms were dressed. They wore robes made of dried leaves and adorned their naked heads with flowers. Some wore floral rings, while others fastened individual large blossoms to their foreheads. The natural accessories did serve to make the filthy creatures slightly less ugly, but Claire still found them far from appealing.


    The divide between the two populations was a phenomenon she could only label as bizarre. It was like there was a ruling class. Again, the insect analogy reared its head. Everything seemed to line up and simply make sense if she thought of them as being similar to ants or bees, even though the supposed caveveabers looked nothing like bugs. Or beavers, for that matter.


    Continuing to observe the central spire, Claire decided that sneaking inside was outright impossible. She was going to need a distraction. The first thing that came to mind was to transform one of the large wooden towers into a pyre, but the blue-eyed rogue had no idea how she was supposed to go about the process. She had never been interested in nor good at fire magic, and the use of Dorr¡¯s divine spark was a pipe dream at best. Lacking in passion and ambition, she was as far from being one of his chosen as could possibly be. Not discouraged by her lack of knowledge, the halfbreed did at least give the idea a try, but nothing came out of it. She rubbed a pair of sticks together as quickly as she could, and she even managed to get them to make a loud crackle, but that was only because she had accidentally squeezed them a little too hard. Repeating the experiment didn¡¯t provide any results either. She was never able to produce even the slightest bit of fire or smoke.


    Fortunately, Claire had a much more viable backup plan in mind. If there was one thing she learned from the life she spent in high society, it was that those in power always got what they wanted, no matter how ridiculous their demands were, or how little anyone else cared. That was to say that causing a fuss required nothing more than agitating a member of the ruling class. And climbing halfway up the tower she was in provided her with the precise conditions she required to do just that.


    She tried to gauge the distance as she peeked out from one of the holes in the building¡¯s side. Coming up with a concrete number proved impossible, but that wasn¡¯t a problem. She didn¡¯t need one. Her Dagger Mastery and Throwing skills confirmed that the fattest squirrel was within range. The angle she had on it wasn¡¯t perfect, as she needed to stick half her body out of the spire to establish a line of sight, but it was good enough. Raising a metal knife, she adjusted her aim, took a deep breath, and launched the weapon with a whip of the arm.


    At first, the blade looked like it would land on target. It flew in a straight line, whistling through the air with unexpected force. But despite all initial appearances, the kitchen tool-turned-projectile never reached its target. It veered off course about halfway through its flight and planted itself in the dirt behind the building. An unfortunate result, but not an unanticipated one. Claire had never thrown a knife before, and while she was somewhat hopeful, she didn¡¯t think that she would be able to nail her target on her first try. Her skills certainly could aid her in bolstering her accuracy and technique, but they were far from almighty and could not strictly determine the outcome of an attack. One or two misses was well within the expected margin of error. There was an argument to be made about wasting the few refined weapons she had, but she didn¡¯t find herself even the slightest bit bothered. Poisoning the water supply would provide an entire population¡¯s worth of experience. The knives were well worth the investment, not to mention there was a fair chance she would be able to retrieve them once all the veabers were dead.


    Both her second and third attempts went equally as poorly. Knife number two was thrown with too much force and wound up embedding itself too high up the tower while its successor went wide. Neither attack was more accurate or precise than the first; they were just as far from the target. Claire was starting to feel nervous, but she kept up her assault nonetheless. All she needed was for one of them to hit.


    But none of them did. She started grumbling after the fourth miss, ground her teeth after the fifth, and threw a small fit after the sixth. When even the seventh failed to find its mark, the rogue decided that enough was enough. Her patience was exhausted and her annoyance was at an all time high, so she thoughtlessly grabbed the remaining three knives and hurled them all at once.


    Her target, the widest squirrel-beaver, remained completely unharmed, but the slightly smaller individual next to him did not. One of the thicker blades embedded itself in the red-skin¡¯s skull.


    Log Entry 648


    Throwing has reached level 2.


    Yes!


    Her joy was short-lived. While the veaber she managed to hit did stand up and look around in confusion, it soon dismissed the attack as nothing but a coincidence. It stretched, flopped back onto the balcony, and returned to lazing around without a care in the world. Evidently, it didn¡¯t think that the knife was worth its time. The creature didn¡¯t bother pulling it out. The only thing it did to acknowledge the weapon¡¯s presence was occasionally scratch at the area around it. Even though it was bleeding.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Claire was stunned. It took her a good few moments to process the veaber¡¯s complete and utter lack of concern. Getting over the initial shock, however, filled her with annoyance. There was no denying that a part of her vexation was self-directed. Forgoing Envenom, getting impatient, and blindly relying on the confidence inspired in her by skills had all contributed to the failure. With that said, she still felt that most of the blame lay with the veaber.


    What kind of monster just decides to go back to sleep with a knife in its head!?


    The halfbreed nearly screamed the words at the top of her lungs. Its behaviour was downright unreasonable, an obvious affront to life itself. Huffing and puffing with pure rage, the rogue picked up the empty knife block, cast Envenom on it and selected bee venom just to be petty. She knew that its effects were far from fatal, but it was sure to hurt much more than the ravens¡¯ poison.


    She was no more successful with the wooden slab than she was with any of her knives. It wound up falling short and hitting some random other veaber instead. Still, she was satisfied. The pained yowls that followed the impact were like music to her ears. Knowing that a veaber was suffering did something magical to put her heart at ease.


    Shouldersnake would be proud.


    Her mood recovered, the halfbreed sat down and contemplated her next steps. She still needed a distraction and evidently, a long ranged attack wasn¡¯t going to cut it. Even the red-skin injured by the knife block had already returned to its duties, albeit while continuing to intermittently yelp in pain. Somehow, no one seemed to care that the camp was under attack. Neither the veabers she¡¯d struck nor any of their fellows had batted an eye at the sudden assault.


    Maybe they¡¯re like cappysseans.


    The river folk were known for being incredibly laid back and spent much of their time doing only the bare minimum. It was not uncommon for them to nap wherever and whenever they saw fit. Fuzzy and gentle, they got along with just about everything. Even monsters that typically attacked on sight could occasionally be found relaxing by a cappyssean¡¯s side. That wasn¡¯t to say that the fleecy giants would fail to respond when subjected to harm, but they were more prone to staying still than they were retaliating. Knowing of the river folk¡¯s behaviour was the only reason Claire was able to rationalize the veaber¡¯s complete and utter lack of concern.


    But then why was the first one I attacked so jumpy? Is it because it knew it was going to die?


    Whatever the case, Claire felt that her direction was clear. Just like how the river folk would react when their waterways were dammed, the veabers were sure to rise from their lethargy once they lost something of value. In other words, the problem was scale. She needed to cause a commotion that was disproportionately dramatic and attention-grabbing, an earth shaking event that would cause every squirrel-goblin in the area to freeze.


    She needed to take down a tower.


    It was the only option she could think of. Many long hours had clearly gone into constructing the looming edifices. Gathering the wood alone would have taken an eternity and every single one of the dozen or so buildings contained hundreds, if not thousands of trees¡¯ worth of lumber. A collapse was sure to produce the result she was looking for. The only question was how she was supposed to go about causing one.


    Leveling a tower was no easy task. It wasn¡¯t as if she could simply dislodge the base and be done with it¡ªa conclusion she reached only after an initial attempt. Even with her strength stat, which was now far in excess of that of the average mage, she found it impossible to relocate or destroy the spires. Though the walls that made up the top floor appeared as haphazardly put together as all the others, they were tough, unyielding, and most likely enhanced with wood magic. She wasn¡¯t able to leave so much as a scratch, regardless of how she attacked them. That, however, was not to say that the halfbreed was out of options. Seeing some of the root-based materials in the building¡¯s foundation had reminded her of a perfectly viable alternative. Digging.


    The ceiling was within Claire¡¯s reach, albeit barely. Her ability to touch it, however, didn¡¯t come with the ability to bore a hole of any notable depth. There wasn¡¯t anything for her to stand on, so she was only able to scrape away at the top layer of soil. Her original plan, using the dirt she excavated to craft a foothold, ended in total failure, as all of it would wind up magnetted back to the forest floor whenever it was dislodged. Climbing up into the hole she made didn¡¯t work either, as the soil was too loose and crumbly. She couldn¡¯t hoist herself up high enough to secure a raised position. Starting in the only corner of the room whose wood was smooth and difficult to grip hadn¡¯t exactly helped either, but Claire continued to pretend that it was a non-factor even in the face of mounting evidence to the contrary.


    Left with no other choice, Claire began to look for a footstool. Locating something appropriate was surprisingly difficult. The only pieces of furniture around, the upside down beds, were literally just piles of sticks. Grabbing them only caused them to fall apart. The halfbreed didn¡¯t have anything suitable on hand either. Neither of her bags provided much in the way of height and the knife block had already bid its final farewell.


    Returning to a lower floor and retrieving one of the thicker trunks used in the building¡¯s exterior was sure to solve her problem, but lugging a large chunk of wood around seemed like a tiresome miserable chore. She really didn¡¯t want to do it, but in the end, she found herself dropping down nonetheless, mostly because moving to another corner seemed closer to admitting defeat than seeking something to stand on. Both choices would have led to frustration, so she chose the one that left her feeling less annoyed.


    She ran into several decent looking pieces as she moved throughout the tower, but as most of the walls near the base were reinforced, she found it too difficult to retrieve them. The first she managed to tear out was a literal stump located roughly halfway down the spire. Its top was relatively flat, with a few indents here and there courtesy of the veabers¡¯ teeth, while its bottom was more or less made up of a bundle of dried roots. For something that was roughly her width and only half her height, the stump was surprisingly heavy. It was so heavy, in fact, that it would slowly drift towards the ceiling even while she sat on it.


    At first, she thought her discovery to be a bust, but spitefully keeping herself perched on top brought about an eye-opening realization. The floating bundle of roots and wood was even more suited to her purposes than a traditional footstool. It rose at a very slow but steady rate and she was able to keep it from ascending more than she wanted it to by placing her hand on the ceiling and lightly pushing against it. Thanks to that particular property, transporting it proved much easier than anticipated, but that wasn¡¯t to say that the process wasn¡¯t without its fair share of difficulties.


    The biggest problem was its propensity to flip. Claire was usually able to stay balanced while she dragged the dead tree across the ceiling; keeping her legs tucked into its root system helped her lock it in place. But she wasn¡¯t exactly consistent. Every once in a while, she would catch herself leaning in a random direction. Resisting the urge to shift her weight around was difficult. She couldn¡¯t help but want to entertain herself by watching the dried up plant react as she swayed to and fro. Each time she leaned too far, the entire stump would turn itself upside down and fly into the ceiling as she plummeted into the woodwork. Getting it moving again wasn¡¯t hard, but turning it so that the flattest side pointed upwards was rarely painless. There were some other minor issues as well, such as how it would get stuck in the holes between the various floors and how its tendrils would occasionally get caught on the walls that they passed, but none had bothered her as much as its tendency to capsize for reasons totally outside the realm of her control.


    It took a long time for Claire to make it back to the dig site. She was mentally exhausted by the obnoxious exercise, but not one to admit defeat, she stretched her shoulders and got right to work.

 Chapter 25 - Pests and Poisons VI

    Chapter 25 - Pests and Poisons VI


    Claire was confused. It was supposed to be nighttime. The sky had been a mix of oranges and purples when she first started digging, and she¡¯d been at it for an incredibly long time. Evidently, she was wrong. Turning herself upside down and sticking her head out of the freshly excavated overpass led to an uncomfortable staring contest with the morning sun. She wasn¡¯t able to see the glowing sphere itself, but its unreasonably bright rays seeped through the fence¡¯s imperfections and burned themselves straight into her retinas.


    She blinked a few times, not just to get the sun out of her eyes, but also so that she could make sure she wasn¡¯t hallucinating. The halfbreed was so bewildered that she even raised her ears like a hare to better survey her acoustic environment. She didn¡¯t know how the marsh¡¯s mornings were supposed to sound, but the various bird calls she noted seemed awfully similar to the ones that she had heard when she first woke up.


    Or at least I think they do... What if I¡¯m wrong?


    With a shiver, she quickly double checked her memory for any blank patches. There didn¡¯t seem to be any, but it was hard for her to say for sure. As far as she could tell, she had spent the last hour or so digging a long tunnel that spanned the length of one of the tower¡¯s sides. She hadn¡¯t exactly remained at attention throughout, given that the task had bored the living daylights out of her, but she was at least fairly certain that the world had never flipped. And that she had probably never passed out. Probably.


    What if I fell asleep and just didn¡¯t notice?


    It seemed unlikely, but the possibility wasn¡¯t one she could outright deny. Thinking back on the past, Claire recalled a number of incidents. She didn¡¯t remember how she had managed to finish knitting the scarf she gave Alice for her seventh birthday, nor did she have any substantial memories of the time her father had forced her to dance with Durham. Admittedly, the second batch of memories was more likely repressed than missing, but they were more than compensated for by the countless rituals that had somehow automagically completed themselves while she was off in dream land.


    Oh no.


    The more she reflected, the spottier her most recent memories seemed. Popping back into the tunnel didn¡¯t help either. She couldn¡¯t remember exactly when she had dug out each part. The only section she could really recollect was her starting point, and only because it happened to line up with one of the building¡¯s corners.


    That aside, she was unable to recall any additional details. Even her own thoughts remained a total mystery. She couldn¡¯t remember what she had been thinking about while she dug the tunnel. Anxiety struck her like a wave, but it ebbed as quickly as it flowed. The time of day was no longer something she had to care about. She didn¡¯t have any lessons anymore and her father wasn¡¯t there to nag about the importance of keeping a schedule. The halfbreed finally could nap for as long as she wanted wherever and whenever her heart desired.


    Having come to a happy conclusion, she set the matter of her exhaustion aside, climbed back into the great outdoors, and looked over her handiwork. The tower¡¯s midsection was starting to bow. It didn¡¯t seem like it was on the verge of collapse just yet, but it was sure to fall over on its own if given enough time. Patience, however, was not exactly Claire¡¯s strongest suit. She had every intention of bringing down the building as soon as possible. The only problem? She was starting to get bored. Really, really bored.


    Maybe I should try thinking about something fun...


    Her mind immediately jumped to the life she left behind, but that depressing chain of thoughts was quickly shelved in favour of something that was clearly much more amusing, counting veabers. She used her ears to track the individuals that came and went from the central supply depot as her hands worked the dirt.


    Log Entry 652


    Digging has reached level 8.


    Digging is already level 8? I don¡¯t even remember it hitting level 7. I guess I really did fall asleep¡­ Or maybe I just wasn¡¯t paying attention. ...That¡¯s probably it, right? R-right...?


    Naturally, counting the veabers wasn¡¯t exactly the most entertaining thing in the world, so she spiced the pastime up by throwing her imagination into the ring. The first thing her brain came up with was a fictitious sound, the thump of a heavy blow. Prompted by the theme, she started to imagine the veabers meeting horrible fates as their footsteps faded. Some were beaten to death, others were torn apart, and a third group was shredded to bits by the gnashing of teeth. The sounds grew more vivid with time. And before long, she felt as if she could hear them for real. The squelching of liquified flesh, the grinding of bone, and the veabers¡¯ death cries were so evocative that she didn¡¯t believe it possible for them to be mere figments of her imagination.


    Log Entry 653


    Tracking has reached level 7.


    Shaking her head, she tried to clear her mind of the perturbed thoughts, but to no avail. She could still sense the red-skins meeting horrible ends even when she stopped tracing their locations. They weren¡¯t the only sounds she heard either. Her ears seemed to be telling her that there was some sort of commotion. Hundreds of squeaks and chirps rang throughout the camp as it buzzed to life. The unwanted screeches led the halfbreed to suspect that she was under the influence of force magic, but she soon realized nothing of the sort was present. Her detection skill wasn¡¯t going off, and folding her ears inwards successfully served to dampen the sounds.


    That was when it finally hit her. She wasn¡¯t just imagining them. The splats, cracks, and thumps that had prompted her less-than-savoury thoughts were real. Poking her head out of a freshly excavated exit, she looked towards the source of all the violence.


    There was another intruder.


    Its size was less than half of hers, but its might was far more than double. Unlike the floppy-eared teenager, the metallic platypus was capable of slaying the veabers in a single strike. Its tiny tail was so powerful that it tore through the rodents¡¯ bodies with ease. Its bill quite literally snapped their spines, separating their corpses into distinct parts with each bite. Everything that entered its mouth was smashed to bits, regardless of whether it was flesh or bone. Thin rods of steel were occasionally fired from an oddly familiar set of semi-circular pads mounted on its back.


    The veabers didn¡¯t run, focusing instead on confrontation. Workers and guards alike swarmed the metallic threat, throwing their bodies at it with enough vigour to mute the pale blue light of its core. Others made use of the environment, calling the power of the forest to their aid. New growth sprung forth from the land and nipped at the duck billed abomination¡¯s heels, but the magic had little effect. No spell was capable of slowing the mech down for any more than a second, regardless of whether it came from the ceiling or the floor.


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    Claire continued to keep an eye on the situation as she snuck her way over to the central tower. She was confident that her demolition-based approach would have wound up working out, but she saw no reason not to make use of the golem¡¯s advent. Frankly, she was sick of digging. Any excuse to set down her nonexistent shovel was more than welcome.


    Even with the distraction, getting inside the central spire proved surprisingly difficult. Most of the more important-looking veabers were still hovering around; the ruling class had opted not to kill itself on the drone. That, however, wasn¡¯t to say that they weren¡¯t focused on it. She managed to avoid their gazes by sneaking around the building and accessing it from the side opposite the mechanical threat. Much to her relief, the red-skins¡¯ noses were just as inept as those of their non-Llysltetein counterparts. Staying out of sight had kept them from noticing her.


    I wonder if their backs are still just as vulnerable¡­


    The blue scale wanted to put the theory to the test, but shelved it for the foreseeable future. She couldn¡¯t afford to risk revealing herself. Not when she was finally so close to poisoning the whole population.


    Only once she was inside the tower did she finally focus most of her attention on the battle. As they had induced a day-long headache, Claire was more than interested in watching something give the squirrel goblins the pummeling they deserved. Still, she approached the conflict with a mixed bag of emotions. The halfbreed was well aware that each death was ultimately a loss. Every rodent the metallic duck killed was one that she was denied.


    At first, she had even been worried that the artifact would wipe out the entire population, but that concern was almost immediately put to rest. It was far stronger than the veabers were individually, but nothing could be done about the red-skins¡¯ strength in numbers. Permanent damage was inflicted to the golem every time it was caught by the tide of vermin. She didn¡¯t know whether the construct was capable of leveling up, but she doubted that such an event would even help it. Its health would be restored to its maximum, but the resources that it used, such as the pellets that it fired from its mouth and the explosive needles that it shot from its circular turrets, would not be restored. One particular red-skin was even starting to run circles around it. The super speedy squirrel was ducking and weaving its way around the robot¡¯s attacks while retaliating with various bites, headbutts, and punches.


    Seeing the artifact continue to struggle raised a few questions in Claire¡¯s mind, mainly with regards to its presence and purpose, but she wasn¡¯t able to come to any real conclusions. The only suspicion she had in mind was that it was somehow connected to the orb that she had kicked, but she doubted it. There was no reason for the artifact to attack the camp if she were its target.


    After a bit of musing, she discarded any further thoughts about the golem and tore her eyes away from it. There was no reason for her to keep watching now that the result had been set in stone. Navigating the supply depot was much higher on her priority list.


    As most of the building¡¯s occupants happened to be missing, working her way through it was much simpler than it would have been under more normal circumstances. Unlike the first tower she explored, the central spire wasn¡¯t split into a series of smaller rooms. Each floor was effectively its own large open auditorium that stood at twice the height of the other towers¡¯ chambers. The only way to get between the stories was to climb a wall and then move along the ceiling until she got to one of the holes. Or at least that¡¯s what it would have been, had she not been in possession of a floating tree stump.


    Claire had managed to transport the levitating device between the spires by weighing it down with a few random pieces of wood and pushing it along. She had only brought it with her because she had taken a liking to it, but the impromptu choice paid off. It still would have been possible for her to navigate the tower without it, but the self-rising platform saved her oodles of time and effort.


    To the rogue¡¯s surprise, the squirrels proved themselves fairly organised. Each story was dedicated to a specific type of supply, with the bottommost floor mainly meat. The corpses of all sorts of different monsters were piled up both on the ceiling and on the floor. Some of the piles were less uneaten than others, and those that did have fresh goods always contained a surplus of them.


    The second floor was filled with the fruits of the veabers¡¯ foraging efforts. Mushrooms and berries could be seen piled up all over. The halfbreed had been curious about the bright red fruits since she first saw them, so she grabbed an especially ripe looking berry off a pedestal and raised it to her face.


    Much to her dismay, the head-sized fruit tasted just as awful as everything else she had consumed in the labyrinth. It wasn¡¯t completely deprived of flavour like the dishes summoned by her authority skill, but it was still nasty to say the least. An overpowering acrid sourness filled her whole throat after just a tiny nibble. With a frown, the rogue cast Envenom and pumped it full of semi-persistent rocket fuel before setting it back where she found it. There wasn¡¯t any real purpose in defiling the fruit. It was unlikely to be eaten before the five-hour poison decayed and the entire population was likely to suffer the effects of her water-related efforts either way. She had mostly done it out of spite.


    A part of her was tempted to try some of the fungi as well, but she knew that to be a bad idea. Mushrooms were not always safe to consume and the rogue wasn¡¯t exactly looking to get herself poisoned two days in a row. Further contributing to her swift dismissal was the sour taste that still lingered in her mouth. She doubted that the dark lumpy earth balls were anything near worth tasting given how unpalatable the berries had been. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn¡¯t imagine the experience of eating one being any better than that of eating a rock. The rounded shrooms were just as firm and had clumps of dirt wedged into their countless creases, stubborn earthy clumps that not even a stream of stale water could purge. Even the snake on her shoulder screamed that they were to be avoided at all costs.


    Floor three was where Claire finally found what she was looking for. The water that the veabers had gathered was contained in a large wooden basin that had grown out of the ground. Wide but shallow, the circular container spanned nearly half the room while standing at only roughly three quarters Claire¡¯s height. She could easily imagine the rodents hunching over and drinking from it.


    Not wasting any time, she placed one of her hands on the misshapen cauldron and coated the entire dish in a layer of permanent rocket fuel¡ªdeadly poison ready to be consumed.


    Log Entry 654


    Envenom has reached level 3.


    The raven-based fuel¡¯s colour barely differed from that of the swamp water, but it was far from invisible. Its rainbow coloured reflections were impossible to hide courtesy of the sunlight beaming in through the building¡¯s shoddily constructed walls. Claire was tempted to see if she could do something about the iridescent film, but her mace proved itself a poor vessel for stirring the oversized pot, so she gave up, packed up her stuff, and exited the supply depot.


    A loud boom rang throughout the camp shortly after she snuck her way back outside the tower. Peeking around the corner, she confirmed that the platypus golem had died, leaving a large explosion in the wake of its shut down. Somehow, she wasn¡¯t surprised by the suicidal detonation. That was just how things made by artificers were. Any combatworthy vessel that didn¡¯t explode was likely outright dysfunctional, not quite as dysfunctional as Durham after she accidentally spent five straight minutes kicking him between the legs with a metal boot, but dysfunctional nonetheless.


    The not-beavers began to chirp and bark with vigour, as if to declare their victory to the world. The sheer volume was giving her a headache; Claire had to hold down her ears to tolerate the noise level, but not even that was able to help her for long. One of the more important looking squirrels joined in, shouting at the top of its lungs as would a warlord. The sound of its violent, bloodthirsty cry was so loud that it nearly blew out her eardrums. She could hardly believe that the noise had come from the rodent¡¯s throat. It just didn¡¯t seem physically possible, lest the creature blew itself up in the process. Not that flesh and blood monsters could.


    Its ridiculous cry prompted obedience in its subjects. All the others silenced themselves and began moving towards the central tower.


    The tower she was standing behind.


    There was no real way for her to escape. The monsters were on both her left and her right, and they were sure to spot her if she tried to run. Standing still wouldn¡¯t help either. There were too many of them to fit through the front, and she knew from her previous observations that they would much rather use another entrance than wait calmly in line.


    Left with no other choice, Claire dashed back into the building, floated up to the second floor, and dove straight into an upside down pile of berries and fungi. Getting inside of it proved surprisingly difficult. Random fruits and mushrooms kept falling to fill in any gaps she made, but she eventually managed to slither her way into a makeshift tunnel nonetheless.

 Chapter 26 - Pests and Poisons VII

    Chapter 26 - Pests and Poisons VII


    The settlement¡¯s entire population gathered within the central tower over the course of a few brief minutes. Claire tried to keep track of the total, but enumerating every single veaber that entered the range of her perception was outright impossible. The wart-covered rodents refused to sit still and the rogue¡¯s less-than-exceptional vantage point did nothing to facilitate the head-counting process. In the end, she wasn¡¯t able to make anything even close to a decent estimate. The only conclusion she drew was that there were likely over a thousand of them, all headed straight for the third floor. It was a volume that seemed impossible, at first, but her opinion changed as soon as she climbed through the fruity fungal pile that was her hiding spot and directed her gaze through a hole in the ceiling.


    Only then did she discover that the building was far from the static construct she had thought it was. Her ears flustered in shock as its midsection gradually expanded, growing to accommodate the population. A product of wood magic.


    All of it seemed to be the work of a single caster. One of the upside down cave dwellers was standing directly above the cauldron with a staff raised over his head. The two-handed cane looked unwieldy at best, its weight distribution thrown off completely by a multi-coloured rock over five times the girth of its shaft. The halfbreed wasn¡¯t able to feel the mana that the supposedly magical stick was infused with¡ªshe had lost that ability when she stopped being a ritual mage¡ªbut she could still see it. Many of the tiny gems embedded within its rocky staff twinkled with each growth-inducing pulse. But notable as it may have been, it was not the mage¡¯s spell that drew Claire¡¯s gaze. The bluescale¡¯s focus stemmed from a completely different source.


    Recognition.


    Differentiating between the various veabers was something that the halfbreed found more or less impossible. Their only discernible facial features were warts and she hadn¡¯t stared at any individual for long enough to memorize its patterns. But she identified the sorcerer nonetheless.


    Because its head was adorned by both a flower and a knife.


    It was the one that ignored her, the one that expressed nothing but nonchalance in the face of a supposedly traumatic head injury.


    Keeping a careful eye on the mage revealed that wood magic was not its only specialty. Much to Claire¡¯s dismay, it soon transitioned from augmenting the tower to a task that she was much more familiar with. A horrified gasp escaped her lips as she watched it point its staff at six distinct points in its vicinity, each a precise distance and angle from the previous.


    No sooner did the magic circle actualize than she determined its purpose. Everything clicked into place. She finally understood why the redskins had chosen to gather the swamp¡¯s water in buckets caked with their own filth. They had no need to concern themselves with sanitation, and not because their bodies were capable of filtering it. So long as the caster was present, the settlement would never be without clean water. He was a ritual mage, one capable of performing the Sacrament of Purity.


    Claire was fuming. She was so frustrated by the ritual mage¡¯s presence and purpose that she nearly hissed. With just a few simple steps, the knife-hatted goblin was about to accidentally invalidate all the effort she had put into invading his home. She wanted¡ªneeded¡ªto stop him before he ruined her day a second time. But she didn¡¯t know how. There was no way to disrupt the ceremony. The only thing she could do was keep watch and hope for him to make a blunder. Which he did not.


    The rodent performed the ritual with such mastery that Claire couldn¡¯t help but find herself impressed. Though she wasn¡¯t able to sense and confirm his control over it, the perfectly formed magic circle led to the impression that he was far more adept than she had ever been. His offering was bizarre, as he was using a large berry in the place of what was otherwise supposed to be a cup of wine, but he proceeded with utmost confidence nonetheless.


    Even his prayer was unlike any that she could conjure. It was unintelligible to her, but somehow solemn and disciplined nonetheless. She could tell, even from his awkward squeaking, that he truly trusted the powers above. Most impressive, however, was not the way he handled the ritual¡¯s precursory steps, but rather the manner in which he assimilated the offering¡¯s vessel. Raising the berry to his lips, the rodent sucked all the liquid from it in a single breath¡ªwithout damaging its structure or integrity. Somehow, he was more proficient at draining the fruit than she was a glass. While just about every one of her instructors begged to differ, the halfbreed insisted that it wasn¡¯t her fault. Ceremonial goblets simply weren¡¯t made for people with forked tongues.


    Log Entry 655


    Envenom has reached level 4.


    Log Entry 656


    Assassinate has reached level 4.


    Huh?


    Claire blinked a few times before her eyes finally caught a tiny detail. The fruit that the ritual mage had drained in one breath happened to feature a slight blemish, a tiny imperfection in the form of a nibble.


    It was the fruit she poisoned.


    Serves you right!


    While poisoning the rodent didn¡¯t put a stop to his ritual, it did at least have an adverse effect on his performance. His chittering became sluggish and slurred, and his imposing, almost saint-like aura was greatly diminished by a newfound lack of vigour. The shaman¡¯s condition only worsened as the seconds ticked by. His head wound, the one tied directly to Claire¡¯s knife, began visibly festering by the time he moved onto the last step of his rite and plunged his staff into the water. Despite his wounds, the ritual was unaffected. Large ripples coursed through it, transforming the mucky slough into a clear reservoir.


    Having watched the rodent complete his duty, Claire decided that it was time to take her leave. There wasn¡¯t much else for her to do. Sticking around wouldn¡¯t provide her any second chances to poison the water supply, as there were too many eyes in the room, and she doubted that she would be able to find any stragglers to kill, so she grabbed her wooden hoverboard and left as quickly as she could. Sneaking out wasn¡¯t very difficult. None of the veabers were keeping watch, so she was able to leave the building and float her way up to the settlement¡¯s nearest stump-sized exit without any further interruptions.


    After spinning her candle and deciding on a random direction, the rogue got on top of her prehistoric flying machine and launched herself through the swamp. Staying just above the ground and using her cudgel as an oar aided her in moving through the marsh at a rapid pace that completely eclipsed any she was previously capable of. Steering was somewhat difficult, given the lack of friction, but keeping her feet out of the mud made it well worth the effort.


    Claire¡¯s mind began to wander after a few minutes on the road. Before long, she found herself reflecting on the day¡¯s progress. The results were clear-cut. She had failed to poison the whole camp, but not all her efforts had been wasted. The druid¡¯s life was hers. Like the first redskin, the mage would eventually succumb to her poison. All she needed to do was wait.


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    Or at least that was what she thought until a notification popped into her mind.


    That was quick.


    Log Entry 657


    You have slain a level 1 altered raven.


    Huh? Again? How?


    Claire stopped in her tracks to give the log entry another once-over. Surely enough, its text remained unchanged even after a good staredown. According to the records, she had somehow killed a raven. Again.


    The most perplexing part of the whole situation was its consistency. There were now two instances where attacking a caveveaber had somehow induced a low leveled raven¡¯s death. Claire was confused. Very, very confused. Speculating about the cause didn¡¯t get her anywhere either. The only hypothesis she was able to come up with was that the veabers kept tiny ravens inside their bodies, but even that didn¡¯t seem quite right. The naked rat that she may or may not have lobotomized had shown no signs of housing another entity.


    But what if the ravens are just really, really small? That can¡¯t be right, can it?


    Log Entry 658


    You have slain a level 1 altered raven.


    Another one? What¡¯s going on¡­?


    Log Entry 659


    You have slain a level 1 altered raven.


    Stop messing with me, Box.


    Claire wanted to get to the bottom of whatever was going on, but she wound up dismissing the idea soon after she tried her hand at thinking it through. Leaving the veaber camp caused the adrenaline flooding her system to drain. She found herself too worn out to bother with any sort of abstract mental exercise. Unraveling the raven mystery would have to wait. Unlike the previous night, she wasn¡¯t on the verge of collapse just yet, but she was certainly starting to get there and forcing her brain to work overtime was unlikely to help.


    Pretending that there was nothing to worry about left her in a much better mood. She found that she was fairly content with how the course of events had played out and a minor shift in perspective was all it took for her to label the expedition a success. She couldn¡¯t quite deny that her attempt to eradicate an entire species had ended in failure, but systematic genocide had never been on her todo list to begin with. The whole point of infiltrating the stronghold was to murder a very specific individual. And as that particular specimen was now dead, there was no reason to say that the operation had failed.


    None at all.


    Even if she hadn¡¯t walked out with a thousand kills.


    Okay, maybe I¡¯m a little bit disappointed, but that¡¯s okay.


    Claire was used to being disappointed. Coincidentally, so was her father. And coincidentally, it was always her fault. Coincidentally.


    ¡°Why did there have to be a ritual mage?¡±


    One loud groan later, Claire gave up on lying to herself and admitted that she couldn¡¯t get over her lack of success. She had spent an excessive amount of time wading barefoot through piles of manure, the stench of which had practically baked itself into her clothes. She couldn¡¯t even open her mouth anymore. Her tongue was far too sensitive to the repulsive miasma that she was worried she would retch and vomit the moment she did. The evening she spent in the camp still would have been one of torture without accounting for all the labour and stress. And the only thing that came out of it was the bitter taste of defeat. Her victory had been wrenched from her hands at the very last moment.


    It wasn¡¯t fair.


    For no other reason than to spite her, the mage had turned everything on its head without any prior warning. Just like her father.


    She bit down on her lips as one of the memories she had tried to repress forced its way into the foreground. The scene of a dusty office at dusk. The smell of smoke and liquor. The clicking of the door as the butler left the room and locked it behind him. And the presence of a cold-hearted oppressor desperate for nothing but bygone glory. He had tried to convince her to sell her soul. For a cause that she cared nothing about.


    Unable to bear the thought any longer, Claire bashed her head into the nearest tree trunk with enough force to leave a visible dent. The primitive method failed to fully purge the thought, but it did at least help her focus, in part because the shockwave had startled a nearby raven, which she quickly dispatched with a sharp bony projectile.


    Log Entry 660


    You have slain a level 12 altered raven.


    She seriously contemplated leaving it where it was, but even in her distress, she knew it to be a waste of a perfectly good weapon. Still panting heavily, the teary eyed tomboy climbed her way up to the forest floor and begrudgingly retrieved her dagger from the freshly made corpse.


    That¡¯s enough moping. Think happy thoughts.


    Despite her best efforts, she wasn¡¯t able to make anything pleasant come to mind. She was so frustrated she nearly stabbed the raven a few extra times, just to work off some of her stress. But her blade stopped short.


    A few deep breaths later, she pulled away from the dead bird and slid back up the tree¡¯s trunk. Landing on the nearest branch, she took another breath and started wiping her dagger off with her cloak. It wasn¡¯t actually getting any cleaner, no matter how much she scrubbed, so she took the garment off and threw some stale water into the mix. Once all the blood was gone, she put the weapon away and moved on to scouring the cloak. She didn¡¯t know if getting the smell out of the old rag was possible, but she at least wanted to give it a try.


    Her hands working away by themselves, Claire raised her head and scanned her environment. Now that she was paying more attention to it, she started to find that it was oddly familiar. She couldn¡¯t shake the impression that she had been in the area before, and not just because the forest was monotone. Something about the way the trees were positioned had her mind screaming in recognition. And soon, she realized why.


    There was a small hole right next to a particularly conspicuous uprooted bush. It was somewhat narrow, but not so narrow that an underdeveloped teenager wouldn¡¯t fit.


    Thanks, mystical candle of luck. I knew I was right to trust you.


    After wringing out her cloak and finding it significantly less odorous, Claire swapped it with her dress, which she began cleaning in a similar but more thorough fashion. The ceremonial gown was her sole undergarment. All the other articles of clothing she looted were too rough to be worn by themselves. Only the fifth or so of her body that was covered in scales would be even remotely comfortable without a softer fabric to serve as a buffer.


    Finally clean, Claire got on top of her floating stump and sleepily hovered her way to shelter. She was expecting to relax, but sticking her head inside the burrow led to a sense of malaise. Something about it didn¡¯t seem quite right. It was much larger than what she recalled. The chamber was tall enough to fit her even if she stood upright, and it was even connected to a second separate room.


    For a moment, she thought that she had made a mistake, but the bush was definitely the one that she had wrenched from the ground and there was a clear imprint of her face on the floor, alongside a slightly darker patch of dirt, a remnant from an unfortunate mishap she would have very much preferred to forget.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re back! I¡¯m really sorry. I probably shouldn¡¯t have moved in without your permission, but this was the only bramblewood tree I could find.¡±


    A voice came from the freshly excavated second chamber. It was feminine, timid, and apologetic. Meek, even. Its owner began walking over after setting down an object that produced a notable metallic clink. Claire wasn¡¯t able to make out its form, as the cavern was dim. The only light source was to her back, but the sound of the creature¡¯s footsteps made it seem small and nimble, with feet as light as feathers. It took straining her ears to determine that the intruder walked on four legs.


    ¡°I was really hoping that you¡¯d at least let me stay the nigh¡ª¡±


    The speaker froze the moment it rounded the corner and laid its eyes on her.


    And as did she.


    Both were equally taken aback.


    Because one was an unusual halfbreed with two weapons drawn.


    And the other was a fox. A confused, terrified fox.

 Chapter 27 - The Secret Lives of Llystletein Foxes

    Chapter 27 - The Secret Lives of Llystletein Foxes


    Claire and the fox spent a few moments staring each other down.


    The former had her daggers held in front of her, one at around waist level, and the other guarding her throat. Both were held in a reverse grip. Taking any other stance was difficult. The entrance¡¯s flakey narrow walls were pressed right up against her elbows. Her eyes were narrowed, focused on the upside-down canid whose capabilities remained a mystery.


    The fox, on the other hand, was frozen in place with her tail tucked between her legs, her ears folded downwards, and her whole body lowered close to the ground.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t kill me! I¡¯m not tasty, and I swear I didn¡¯t mean to intrude. I thought you were a fox, not one of the torches!¡± The orange fuzzball squeaked out a plea. Her feet trembled, nearly giving out under her as she took half an unsteady step backwards.


    ¡°What makes you say that?¡±


    ¡°Oh thank goodness¡­ You¡¯re one of the ones that actually talks.¡± The fox¡¯s shaking eased, slightly, as she breathed a sigh. "Well uhm¡­ your burrow smelled a lot like a fox den and I thought we were the only ones that put our homes under bramblewood trees.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I was asking about,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Huh?¡± The fox blinked. Thrice.


    ¡°I meant the first thing you said.¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t kill me?¡±


    ¡°After that.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I¡¯m not tasty?¡±


    ¡°Yes, that,¡± said Claire, with a nod. ¡°How do you know?¡±


    What kind of weirdo do you have to be to know how you taste?


    ¡°W-well uhm¡­ I-I don¡¯t, but please, please, please don¡¯t eat me! I¡¯m really bony and thin, so I doubt I¡¯d be good in anything other than maybe soup!¡±


    ¡°Soup...?¡±


    The halfbreed paused for a moment to picture a tureen painted in a fox¡¯s image. White hot steam drifted out from within the imaginary container as a gloved hand lifted its lid and revealed a medley of meat and vegetables. Carrots, tomatoes, and red peppers were the main features, floating alongside perfectly seared cubes of flesh. As one butler ladled her a bowl, another offered a neckerchief made from a smooth, fluffy, orange-red pelt. Its taste was unlike any of the awful meals she had endured over the past few days. Every spoonful was bursting with a rich, cream¡ª


    ¡°Eek! I didn¡¯t mean that! I¡¯m sure I¡¯d taste terrible in soup too, so please stop imagining it!¡± The fox placed both front paws on top of her head and shut her eyes as she resumed trembling at full force.


    ¡°Why are you so obsessed with how you taste?¡±


    ¡°Are you really asking me that!?¡± The fox barked, as she got back to her feet. "I am not obsessed! I don¡¯t care how I taste!¡± she insisted. ¡°I¡¯m just scared you¡¯ll eat me!¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t consider it until you suggested it.¡±


    ¡°Then why the heck would you have your weapons drawn!?¡±


    ¡°I was going to kill you,¡± said Claire, matter-of-factly.


    ¡°That¡¯s even worse! At least eat me if you¡¯re going to kill me!¡± shrieked the fox. ¡°W-why else would you want to kill me!?¡±


    ¡°Experience.¡±


    And some peace and quiet.


    ¡°I¡¯m just an ordinary fox, I¡¯d barely give you anything!¡±


    ¡°I guess you¡¯re right.¡± Claire started to lower her knives, but stopped halfway. ¡°Wait... If you¡¯re just a fox, then how are you talking?¡±


    As it so happened, the halfbreed was well aware that the average fox was, in fact, not capable of speaking fluent Marish.


    ¡°Oh no!¡± One of the fluffy canid¡¯s front paws shot to her mouth. ¡°Uhm¡­ you¡¯re just imagining things! Errm, I mean¡­ uhm¡­ meow.¡±


    ¡°Aren''t foxes supposed to yelp?¡±


    ¡°How am I supposed to know!?¡± shouted the furball, before shifting to a whisper. ¡°I¡¯ve always just talked.¡± She buried her face in the ground, the tension draining from her limbs. ¡°I give up. I don¡¯t know what to do or say anymore. Can you just get it over with already? Oh, and bury me under a tree and carve Sylvia into the bark when you¡¯re done. You might as well, if you¡¯re not going to eat me.¡±


    Claire took a second to contemplate the proposal. On one hand, the fox was likely an experience-rich Llystletein variant. But on the other, it was also a rare source of information, and a seemingly compliant one at that.


    ¡°I¡¯ll let you live if you agree to my conditions,¡± said Claire, lowering her blades.


    ¡°You will!?¡± The fox perked up immediately. ¡°Wait¡­ you¡¯re not going to tell me to show you where all the other foxes live so you can kill them all, right?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not a bad idea...¡± said the blue scale, as she stifled a yawn.


    ¡°Aaaahhhh!! I didn¡¯t mean to say that out loud! A-and it doesn¡¯t matter. I can¡¯t take you to the others anyway. I don¡¯t even know where they are. We scattered because the stupid steelwings started bullying us out of our homes.¡± Sylvia stood up on her hind legs, crossed her arms, and huffed. ¡°Stupid jerks.¡±


    ¡°Steelwings?¡± Claire cocked her head.


    ¡°The altered ravens,¡± said the furball, her ears drooping. ¡°They suddenly showed up last night and started dumping water into all our burrows for no reason. They¡¯re all flooded now, so we have to find new ones to live in while they dry out.¡±


    That sounds a lot like what they did to me¡­ I wonder if it¡¯s because I¡­ Oh¡­ Ohhhhh¡­ Oops.


    ¡°So uhmmmm¡­¡± The fox started playing with her tail. She brought it near her face and twirled it with one of her front paws. ¡°What are the conditions?¡±


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    ¡°Answer my questions and get out.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s it? Okay! I can answer all the que¡ªwait a second! Please don¡¯t make me leave! There¡¯s not enough time for me to dig out another den, even if I do find another bramblewood tree. I¡¯ll just get eaten by a mirewulf, or worse!¡±


    ¡°I need to sleep, and I¡¯m not letting you near me while I do.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t we work something out? Anything? Please? Pretty please?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t trust you,¡± said Claire, flatly. ¡°If you insist on staying, then you¡¯ll have to let me tie you up.¡±


    ¡°I-I wouldn¡¯t mind that as much, but what if I need to use the bathroom?¡±


    ¡°Go before I sleep.¡±


    ¡°Ummmm¡­ that might work. How long are you going to sleep?¡±


    ¡°More than three hours, but less than sixteen.¡±


    ¡°S-sixteen!? I can¡¯t possibly hold it in for sixteen hours! I need to go at least once every two!¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯ll just have to leave,¡± said Claire, flatly.


    ¡°I can¡¯t, I¡¯ll die! I can¡¯t answer your questions if I¡¯m dead!¡±


    ¡°Just answer them before you leave.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to answer them at all unless you let me stay overnight!¡±


    ¡°That just means we¡¯re back to where we started.¡± The halfbreed rolled her eyes. ¡°If you want me to let you stay, you¡¯ll have to let me tie you up.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you just trust me?¡± pleaded Sylvia. She opened her eyes wide, made her ears flop forward, lowered her face, and looked up at the rogue with a teary gaze.


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire, flatly. ¡°And stop trying to give me puppy-dog eyes. You¡¯re not even a dog.¡±


    ¡°N-No? Aww¡­ Everyone else always says yes when I do that.¡± Sylvia flopped forward lethargically, her body making a bit of a thump as it fell onto the ceiling. ¡°Oh, I know! It must be because I haven¡¯t introduced myself yet!¡± The fox stood back up on her hind legs, brought the tip of her tail to her heart, and placed a furled paw on top of it. ¡°I¡¯m Sylvia Redleaf, Llystletein Woodfox. I just had my coming of age ceremony last cycle.¡±


    Claire stared at the canid for a moment before heaving a sigh. The halfbreed reached under her cloak, grabbed her dress, and momentarily bent her knees.


    This is silly. Why am I playing along? Ugh¡­ Stupid fox.


    ¡°Claire Augustus, Lady of Cadria¡¯s third ducal house and a ritual mage in service to Builledragcht,¡± she said, for the thousandth time. ¡°Or at least I was.¡±


    None of that is true anymore.


    ¡°Wow! I¡¯ve never met one of Builledragcht¡¯s ritual mages before.¡± Sylvia slowly took a step forward, timidly glanced at Claire, and then took another. ¡°All of ours serve boring Gods like Kael''ahruus and Primrose.¡±


    ¡°I would have rather served the God of the Hunt or the Goddess of the Harvest than the God of Curses,¡± mumbled Claire, averting her gaze in spite of the other girl¡¯s approach.


    ¡°Oh... oh! I think I know how to get around you wanting to tie me up! I¡¯ll swear in Althea¡¯s name that I won¡¯t hurt you while you sleep!¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t work without a ritual,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°But you¡¯re a ritual mage, right? Can¡¯t you just use your magic and make it one?¡±


    ¡°Was. I was a ritual mage.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right. I forgot the library does that to all the torches. Dad said something about being a master swordsman or something once. That¡¯s a real shame, I was really hoping that would work,¡± said Slyvia, with a sigh. ¡°What race are you anyway?¡± The fox pawed at her conversation partner¡¯s features. ¡°Your eyes are kind of like a gator¡¯s and you¡¯ve even got the scales to match, but your ears are really freaky. They¡¯re kinda deery or rabbity, but neither of those seem quite right. They¡¯re not round enough near the center and you¡¯re way too blue.¡±


    ¡°Stop touching me.¡± Claire pressed her palm against Sylvia¡¯s snout and pushed her away.


    ¡°Are you a halfbreed?¡±


    ¡°Does it matter?¡±


    ¡°Well uhm¡­ no. But I really want to know. I¡¯ve never seen anything like you before!¡±


    ¡°Okay, I don¡¯t care,¡± said Claire, with the faintest of smiles.


    ¡°Aw, don¡¯t be like that! I¡¯m a halfbreed too, you know?¡±


    ¡°Uh huh¡­¡±


    Please stop talking and just let me sleep.


    ¡°It¡¯s true! I know I look just like all the other foxes, but it¡¯s true! I just take after my mom. I bet you can¡¯t guess what my dad was!¡±


    ¡°A rock?¡±


    ¡°C-can rocks even have children?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡±


    ¡°Then why would you even bother suggesting it?¡± huffed the fox, as she pawed at the scales on Claire¡¯s forearm. ¡°My dad can¡¯t be a rock if rocks can¡¯t have kids!¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t I just tell you to stop touching me?¡± Claire brushed off the furball¡¯s paws.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t help it! Your scales are just so smooth and delicate,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I guess that means you can¡¯t be a gator¡­ Theirs are a lot rougher and sharper.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to kick you out if you don¡¯t stop trying to guess what I am.¡±


    ¡°C-can¡¯t you at least give me a hint?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±


    ¡°What if I told you that my dad¡¯s actually a wood elf? He¡¯s really, really weird. He tries to act like a fox even though he isn¡¯t one, and one time, his friends, some other torches, even tried to drown him because he wouldn¡¯t knock it off,¡± said Sylvia, as she poked at the side of Claire¡¯s head. ¡°Wow, your ears are really fluffy. They¡¯re almost as fluffy as mine!¡±


    ¡°For the last time, stop touching me!¡± said Claire, as she shook the fox off.


    Why does she have to be so high energy? I do NOT want to deal with this right now...


    ¡°I was just trying to be friendly¡­¡±


    ¡°So that I would trust you and not tie you up while I slept.¡±


    ¡°W-well uhm¡­ yes, but¡­¡±


    ¡°No buts. I don¡¯t need you attacking me in my sleep. Let me tie you up or leave. Now.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay, fine, you can tie me up,¡± said the fox, begrudgingly. ¡°Just, give me a second to uhm¡­ excuse myself.¡± The blabbermouth retreated into the burrow¡¯s second room, returning to present her front paws after about a minute. ¡°I¡¯m ready now, but uhmmm¡­ c-can you please try not to sleep for a whole sixteen hours? I really don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be able to hold it that long.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire.


    The half-reptilian tied all four of the fox¡¯s paws together with the last bit of rope she had in her pouch and started to carry her into the second room.


    ¡°H-huh? W-wait, where are you taking me?¡±


    ¡°Where else? There are only two rooms.¡±


    ¡°B-b-b-b-b-but I just used the other one as a bathroom!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want you to be in the same room as me while I sleep,¡± said Claire, as she took another step forward.


    ¡°T-then dig a third room! I can help! Please don¡¯t put me in the bathroom I just used!¡±


    ¡°You weren¡¯t going to be able to hold it in anyway.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make it any better! At least let it dry first!¡±


    Rounding the corner, Claire found that the expansion the fox added was only about a third the size of the main chamber, just large enough for a four-legged, dog-shaped creature to comfortably pace back and forth. One side of the room contained the remnant of a less-than-mentionable deed, while the other featured a familiar tool, propped up against a small pile of dirt. It was a shovel, a shovel made of a short wooden stick and half of a raven¡¯s wing, tied together with a green, ropey vine.


    Okay¡­ fine, Box, fine. I admit it. You were right. I am bad at paying attention to details.


    Log Entry 661


    Achievement Unlocked ¡ª Enlightenment


    You have recognized that the divine word is one of eternal truth.


    Sure, whatever you say.


    ¡°U-uhmmm¡­ Claire?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°C-can you please take me back to the other room? Pretty please?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Shifting her gaze between the fox, the wet patch, and the shovel, Claire heaved a sigh. ¡°Fine.¡±


    Only because it was probably my fault the ravens started messing with you.


    Returning to the other space, Claire set the fox down, walked back over to the entrance, and curled herself up into a ball.


    ¡°Good night, Claire!¡± said Sylvia, far too happily for someone who was tied up. ¡°Sweet dreams!¡±


    ¡°...Good night.¡±

 Chapter 28 - The Secret Lives of Llystletein Foxes II

    Chapter 28 - The Secret Lives of Llystletein Foxes II


    Three days in a row? Give me a break¡­


    Claire sighed as she looked around the dreamscape, her gaze eventually settling on its owner. She knew that she couldn¡¯t reach him with her words, so she crossed her arms and put her foot down with the most annoyed scowl she could muster.


    The man¡¯s physical form remained unmoving, staring at the glowing rectangular artifact anchored to his wall. His astral phantom, however, was glancing left and right, as if to seek the source of her displeasure.


    Tapping one of her feet against the ground and huffing finally led the man to point a finger at himself while raising a brow.


    Yes, you. Claire mouthed the words while vigorously nodding her head.


    He stared blankly at her for a few moments, then tapped the bottom of his fist against his open palm.


    ¡°Coincidence.¡±


    A word etched itself into her mind as the man smiled, sheepishly.


    Sure it is.


    The halfbreed rolled her eyes before directing her gaze back towards his body. He was still dressed in the loose white outfit he wore during her last visit, metal headband and all, but he didn¡¯t seem nearly as focused on his magical box as he was previously. His eyes were closed, his legs were crossed, and his hands were placed upside down in his lap.


    Within the enchanted cube was a group of tiny bald humans in the exact same pose. They were repeating a sort of mantra in a language she failed to understand, but otherwise, they remained still as stone, their bright orange robes unmoving save for when disturbed by the wind.


    Observing his other self, the phantom chuckled and slowly shook his head, throwing his messy hair even further into disarray.


    ¡°Lesson.¡±


    With a wave of his hand, he changed it from day to night. His body blurred momentarily, executing a thousand actions, as it warped around the room. He settled in his previous position right as the temporal shift was completed with a knobby rectangular device in hand. Fiddling with it, he kept his eyes focused on the wall-mounted artifact, which once again appeared to feature an oddly familiar but unclear illustration of a long-eared teen. She still couldn¡¯t make out any other details of its appearance, no matter how hard she squinted.


    The background, however, was so crisp and vivid that it almost seemed to be mocking her. She could see the cracks in the paved stone road, the mortar between each pair of bricks, and even the far off birds, soaring through the distant sky.


    ¡°Learn.¡±


    The phantom gestured towards the moving illustration Claire was unable to fully perceive, then put up his fists and punched the air several times in succession. Slow, easily perceivable strikes.


    ¡°Understand?¡±


    The halfbreed shook her head, prompting the human to raise his hand to his chin. And after a brief pause, his frown transformed into a faint smile. He snapped his fingers and created a projection of the device that his other self was toying with. If not for its ethereal nature, it would have been an exact duplicate.


    Log Entry 662


    Detect Force Magic has reached level 6.


    ¡°Watch.¡±


    The knob embedded into its left side moved by itself. It went right, down, and then into the corner between the two as an oddly reflective red circle, whose frame was marked with a cross, depressed itself into the inexplicably shaped wand.


    ¡°Repeat. Forward. Down. Down-forward. X.¡±


    The long sequence of words appeared in her mind, one by one, each a pale white entry upon a pitch black canvas. She looked at him, raising a brow as the pattern repeated itself over and over.


    ¡°Try.¡±


    He pointed to her hands, then at the wand before gesturing towards his other self.


    ¡°Copy.¡±


    She slowly reached towards the device, but her hands were unable to make contact. They phased right through. Claire turned to the man for guidance, but he didn¡¯t react, even as she moved her hands back and forth through his creation.


    ¡°Follow along.¡±


    The projected artifact repeated its previous action set, the knob phasing through her fingers as it moved. At the man¡¯s command, she began to pretend that she was its operator, moving her hands in tandem with its unchanging pattern. She found it difficult to match, but she began to grasp the rhythm after a few repetitions.


    And as she finally got it just right, a notification popped into her half-lucid mind.


    Log Entry 663


    You have acquired the Artifact Manipulation skill.


    The man cheered, pumping his fists into the air as he floated towards her. But his face turned sour as soon as he read the log¡¯s entry from over her shoulder. With his lips pressed tight and his eyes focused inward, he stepped over to the nearest wall and soundlessly bashed his head against it a dozen times over.


    Claire stared at him in shock as the dream drew to an abrupt close. The ground disappeared and her surroundings darkened as everything suddenly vanished. All that was left was the abyss.


    This time, she was ready. She placed her hands in front of her right as she was overwhelmed by the sensation of the fall. An impact rippled through her a moment later, followed by a second as her knees hit the ground. Raising the corners of her lips, the halfbreed slowly opened her eyes. The dirt was just a few inches from her face.


    Ugh¡­ stupid bell. Why do you have to be so loud? Shut up already!


    Unable to revel in the tiny but remarkable victory, she clasped her hands over her ears as she rolled onto her back. The magical toll was back, and with it, a headache for the ages. Claire grit her teeth, trying her best to bear with it as she scanned the room. The first thing she noticed was the lack of darkness. Sunlight was streaming in from multiple directions, keeping the den just as illuminated as it had been when she went to sleep.


    Isn¡¯t it supposed to be night? The halfbreed frowned. She had to shout internally just to hear her own voice. I thought the bell rang at sunrise and sunset. How long did I sleep?


    Claire was fairly sure that it was morning, as she felt the same way that she typically did after a good night¡¯s rest, but she was also on the forest floor. Isn¡¯t the forest only available at night? Did I sleep through the first bell and miss getting flipped? Does it even work like that?


    Throwing the alarm and its rules on her list of questions, Claire looked for the fox that was supposed to answer them.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°She¡¯s gone...¡±


    She scanned both the ceiling and the floor, but the vixen was nowhere to be seen. The only trace of her that remained was a small pile of ropes off in one of the room¡¯s corners.


    Log Entry 664


    You have heeded the Whisper of Mirewood Meadow. The Lord of the Holt awaits those who dare to challenge it.


    The ringing was gone, but it took another few minutes for the halfbreed¡¯s headache to abate. Only after it faded did she slowly sit up and perform a second, more careful sweep of her surroundings. Sylvia had evidently spent at least part of the night digging out more of the den, as there were now three chambers in total. Two were roughly the same size, whereas the last was the bathroom, a small alcove sequestered away from the rest of the living space.


    She didn¡¯t even try to run. Claire rubbed her temples. Is she stupid? Tracking confirmed that the half fox was inbound. She was slowly making her way over to the den, moving through the forest at a leisurely pace.


    Popping open her log, Claire ascertained that the previous night¡¯s acquisitions had been real. It was always hard to tell. The methods used in her dreams were shady at best; she found it incredibly difficult to trust them, in part due to a lack of consistency. There had been a few rare occasions where the dreams really were just dreams.


    Log Entry 665


    You have slain a level 57 Llystletein caveshaman.


    A brand new entry popped up right as she confirmed that Artifact Manipulation was more than another figment of her imagination.


    Huh? Oh¡­ right. Poison. She closed her eyes for a moment as she recalled the berry she had poisoned on a whim. Level 57? No wonder it shrugged off the knife stuck in its face.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 5 points of agility


    - 10 points of dexterity


    - 5 points of spirit


    - 5 points of strength


    - 5 points of vitality


    - 20 points of wisdom


    That¡¯s a lot of bonuses, much more than the hellhog, even though their levels weren¡¯t that different. Is it because it was ascended?


    ¡°Wait¡­ Box! What do you mean, caveshaman!? It lived in the trees! It used wood magic! At least call it a treeshaman!¡±


    Log Entry 666


    You have unlocked a new spawnable food item.


    Log Entry 667


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Halfbreed, has reached level 20.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Rogue, has reached level 26.


    You have been awarded the following bonuses for reaching Llystletein Rogue¡¯s 25th milestone.


    - The Charm Catgirl class skill


    - 20 points of agility


    - 20 points of dexterity


    You have gained 32 ability points.


    The following Llystletein Rogue skill has been acquired:


    - Bloodthief


    Bloodthief sounds like it might be useful, but Charm Catgirl? Why? I bet this is a part of the curse. Stupid head librarian.


    Log Entry 668


    Envenom has reached level 7.


    Log Entry 669


    Assassinate has reached level 6.


    Log Entry 670


    Sneaking has reached level 8.


    Log Entry 671


    Throwing has reached level 3.


    Log Entry 672


    Makeshift Weapon Mastery has reached level 7.


    Log Entry 673


    Achievement Unlocked - Systematic Defiance


    You have slain an entity of an ascension level greater than your own. This feat will be remembered.


    Great. Now I just need 30 more halfbreed levels.


    Artifact Manipulation ¡ª Level 1


    You have, over the course of several hours, learned to manipulate a tool that five year olds are capable of handling with masterful ease. Congratulations, you can now safely say that you are more intelligent than the average dog.


    Effects


    - You gain a basic, intuitive understanding of every artifact you touch.


    Charm Catgirl ¡ª Level 1


    Your inexplicable preference for catgirls has wreaked such havoc on your mental health that you have managed to delude yourself into believing that you are capable of charming them. Please be aware that a divine force has noted your degenerative tendencies and placed you on a watchlist. Seeking a therapist is strongly advised.


    Effects


    - Amplifies the effect of the Catgirl Enthusiast achievement


    - You are capable of inflicting the Charm status on any catgirl that remains within 1.1m (1m + 0.1m per level) of you for 590 seconds (600 seconds - 10 seconds per level)


    - The Charm status will last for 65 minutes (60 minutes + 5 minutes per level)


    - The proximity timer will reset after the catgirl spends 65 minutes (60 minutes + 5 minutes per level) outside of the skill¡¯s effect range


    - It is possible for this skill to occasionally trigger automatically while in the presence of a catgirl


    Requirements


    - Any level 25 Llystletein class


    - Acquired the Catgirl Enthusiast Achievement


    It... amplifies the curse? No! Anything but that!


    Bloodthief ¡ª Level 1


    It is often said that there is a fine line between a genius and an idiot. You have proven this statement unequivocally false by ignoring a key feature of your primary class. Knowing that you are being rewarded for your behaviour brings me nothing but pain. The celestial responsible for encouraging this tomfoolery will be punished.


    Effects


    - Phantom strikes are now capable of recovering health equal to 1.2% (1% + 0.2% per level) of the damage dealt.


    Requirements


    - Unlock the Manathief skill before reaching level 25 as a Llystletein Rogue


    - Reach level 25 as a Llystletein Rogue without casting Manathief a single time


    Manathief? I forgot that skill existed.


    Charm Catgirl aside, Claire was satisfied with all her new acquisitions. Killing the shaman had provided her with one of her most notable growth spurts yet. Her ability scores had skyrocketed overnight and she was even the proud owner of a new combat-worthy passive skill. With enough time and investment, Bloodthief was sure to provide her with the edge she needed.


    ¡°Thirty nine ability points...¡± she mumbled. ¡°I should spend some.¡±


    The rogue closed her eyes as she reflected on the day¡¯s experiences. The first stat she considered was strength. There was certainly an argument for bolstering it, given that both veabers she attacked had completely disregarded the physical damage she inflicted, but she wasn¡¯t too concerned. At the end of the day, both had still died.


    Besides, I bet they were only that durable because they were Llystletein variants. The stupid mimic thing was really stubborn too.


    Spirit and wisdom were also quickly set aside. She didn¡¯t feel like she needed the magic resistance provided by the former, and she had no magic of her own to leverage the latter. Likewise, dexterity didn¡¯t seem like it would do anything to help her in the immediate future¡ªher fingers were already every bit as nimble and precise as they needed to be. The only thing they had failed at was turning her melee weapons into projectiles.


    I¡¯m not going to be doing any more of that anyway. I keep losing everything I throw.


    With four of the six ability scores disqualified, Claire was left with the only seemingly worthwhile investments. Agility was a no-brainer. Even the squirrels were faster than her and she didn¡¯t have the technique to make up for the difference. Vitality, however, was a bit of a mixed bag. On one hand, she didn¡¯t want to invest in it because it was useless if she didn¡¯t get hit, and on the other, she didn¡¯t want to die.


    I¡¯ll put a few points into both. I might as well get them to nice-round-numbers while I¡¯m at it.


    Having altered her ability scores, the halfbreed turned towards the burrow¡¯s freshly crafted second entrance right as a familiar fox climbed through it.


    Claire


    Health: 242/242


    Mana: 691/691


    Health Regen: 50/hour


    Mana Regen: 366/hour


    Ability Scores - 2 Points Available


    - Agility: 100


    - Dexterity: 115


    - Spirit: 64


    - Strength: 101


    - Vitality: 50


    - Wisdom: 183


    Racial Class: Halfbreed - Level 20.45


    - Quadrupedal Bloodrush - Level 1.01


    - Lashing Tailstrike - Level 1.00


    Primary Class: Llystletein Rogue - Level 26.91


    - Assassinate - Level 6.40


    - Bloodthief - Level 1.00


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 4.11


    - Double Stab - Level 6.02


    - Envenom - Level 7.11


    - Manathief - Level 1.00


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 1.00


    - Club Mastery - Level 5.73


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 4.51


    - Dancing - Level 5.24


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 6.11


    - Digging - Level 8.34


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 3.92


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 7.00


    - Marish - Level 18.99


    - Sneaking - Level 8.61


    - Spear Mastery - Level 3.82


    - Sword Mastery - Level 4.67


    - Throwing - Level 3.15


    - Tracking - Level 7.27


    - Unarmed Combat Mastery - Level 3.36

 Chapter 29 - The Secret Lives of Llystletein Foxes III

    Chapter 29 - The Secret Lives of Llystletein Foxes III


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re up! Good morning,¡± said Sylvia, after setting down the kill she had in her mouth.


    Claire took a moment to glare at the fox, who was humming a tune whilst retrieving a small blue fruit from a pile of branches. ¡°You untied yourself.¡±


    ¡°Oh uhmm¡­ yeah, I guess I did,¡± said the vixen, turning her eyes away from the other girl¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°When?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ ummm¡­ Maybe about five minutes after you fell asleep?¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence. Claire crossed her arms, pursed her lips, and narrowed her eyes. Sylvia, on the other hand, stared at the wall. Her gaze wandered over in Claire¡¯s direction once every few seconds, but it returned to its prior position every time she confirmed that the other halfbreed had yet to yield.


    ¡°W-would you like some breakfast?¡± asked Sylvia, giving in.


    She picked up the small animal she had killed, dropped it next to her conversation partner, and nudged it forward with her nose. It was a rabbit. Or at least something somewhat resembling one. Its head and torso almost perfectly identical that of a bunny¡¯s, but its limbs were replaced by large, bald flippers. The fur covering the rest of its body was still wet, individual hairs clumped together to form tiny spikes. It appeared unwounded at a glance, but more careful observation revealed that its neck was broken, snapped like a twig.


    ¡°I told you. Stop trying to figure out what I am,¡± said Claire, with a sharp hiss.


    ¡°You could tell!?¡± squeaked the fox. ¡°Erm, I mean, ummm¡­ I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a terrible liar.¡±


    ¡°Awww¡­ really? I thought I was pretty good at it. Everyone else always falls for everything¡­¡±


    Are the other foxes just idiots? Or are they letting her have her way?


    ¡°Can¡¯t you give me just one hint? Please? I promise I¡¯ll try my best not to bother you about it again! I don¡¯t know if I can really help myself, but I¡¯ll at least try!¡±


    Claire sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not a rabbit.¡±


    ¡°Are you a deer?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then what are you?¡±


    ¡°Stop asking,¡± said Claire. ¡°I¡¯ve already told you enough.¡±


    ¡°Awwww¡­¡± Sylvia lowered her face to the ground, placing it atop her paws. Her ears were folded downward and her tail was kept close to the ground.


    ¡°And I don¡¯t want that,¡± said Claire, pointing at the rabbit. ¡°You can keep it.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°It hasn¡¯t been cooked.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you just cook it?¡± asked the fox.


    ¡°Can you?¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ I don¡¯t think so. Me and mom just eat everything raw. Dad¡¯s the only one that ever cooks things. He keeps saying that elves can¡¯t eat raw meat, even though I¡¯ve seen him do it before. I guess he just doesn¡¯t like it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like it either,¡± said Claire. ¡°Keep your prey. I¡¯ll sort out my own meals.¡±


    ¡°Okay! Thanks Claire!¡± The fox began humming again as she picked the rabbit back up in her jaws and carried it off into a corner.


    In the meantime, the rogue took the opportunity to activate her authority skill and pick something out for herself.


    Llystletein Authority


    Actions


    - Establish Safe Zone (Cooldown: 3 days)


    - Expunge Waste As Mana (200MP)


    Spawnable Drinks


    - Cosmogoblitan (50MP)


    - Mimicosa¡î (500MP)


    - Raven Rocket Fuel (1000MP)


    - Stale Water (25MP)


    Spawnable Food


    - Fried Frog Wings (300MP)


    - Grilled Veaber Tail¡î (2000MP)


    - Hellhog Bolognese (500MP)


    - Pulled Orc (150MP)


    - *NEW* Spicy Shaman Sundae¡î (3500MP)


    - Stale Bread (25MP)


    Several entries caught her eye, with the most notable being safe zone¡¯s cooldown. Only two nights had passed, but the menu stated that there were only three days left until it was available again. By now, she was certain that she hadn¡¯t fallen asleep in the veaber nest. Something about the way time worked in the marsh was off. Another question for the fox.


    ¡°What¡¯s with the veaber tail? It was 200 before it was upgraded, whatever that means,¡± she muttered. ¡°Does it finally taste like something?¡±


    Claire was willing to give the dish¡¯s new and improved variant a shot, but she lacked the resources. Its cost had ballooned to a value that was nearly three times her total. The sundae¡¯s price tag was equally absurd, but that entry was at least somewhat explicable, given that it had come as a reward for slaying an ascended monster.


    ¡°Why aren''t you on the ceiling?¡± Claire asked, as she summoned a batch of stale bread.


    ¡°Hm?¡± The fox lifted her face from the dead bunny. ¡°What do you mean? Weren¡¯t you the one on the ceiling yesterday?¡±


    ¡°We were on opposite sides before the stupid bell started ringing. It flipped me. Why didn¡¯t it flip you?¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Sylvia stood up on her hind legs as she clapped her front paws together. ¡°Are you asking about the whisper?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t exactly call it a whisper, but yes,¡± said Claire, glancing at the log entry.


    ¡°Really? It sounds just like one to me.¡±


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    ¡°Then you must be deaf.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not deaf! I can hear you just fine!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m well aware of that,¡± said Claire, rolling her eyes. ¡°The ¡®whisper¡¯ sounds like a really loud bell to me, a hundred times louder than you and all your shouting.¡±


    ¡°Really? That¡¯s weird¡­ It sounds like a bell to me too, but I can barely hear it,¡± said the fox. ¡°Oh, and to answer your question, I can choose which side I want to be on. Some of the elders don¡¯t even have to wait, they can switch sides whenever they want.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    Log Entry 674


    Marish has reached level 19.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I¡¯m not really sure about the elders, but the rest of us just use the bell. Didn¡¯t it ask you if you wanted to switch sides when it rang?¡±


    ¡°Bells don¡¯t ask questions.¡±


    ¡°Yes they do! You just have to listen for them,¡± said the fox. ¡°Oh! Dad did say something weird about having to resist it, once, but I think he was just messing with me.¡±


    ¡°Resist it?¡± Claire mumbled as she leaned forward and brought a hand to her chin.


    Resisting seemed difficult at best. She had been outright crippled by the bell every time she was exposed to it, and that was unlikely to change in the future; her third encounter hadn¡¯t been any less painful than her first or second. If she wanted to push back against the so-called whisper, she was going to have to somehow mitigate its volume first.


    ¡°Did he ever mention how?¡±


    ¡°I think so!¡± Sylvia¡¯s tail started flicking back and forth, before suddenly dropping off to the side. ¡°But I don¡¯t really pay attention when he rambles, so I¡¯m not sure what he said. Why does he even go on about random things so much anyway? I¡¯m not sure how he even has so much to talk about!¡±


    ¡°Useless fox¡­¡± grumbled Claire, under her breath. Must run in the family.


    ¡°Hey! I heard that!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Now you¡¯re just being mean.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said Claire, with the faintest of smiles. She paused for a moment to take a bite out of a freshly formed loaf of stale bread before continuing. ¡°Have you heard of a citadel?¡±


    ¡°Yup! That¡¯s where my dad lives. I¡¯ve never visited it. He told me to stay away because the torches might see me.¡± Sylvia glanced at Claire. ¡°And not all of them are willing to talk.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m very reasonable.¡±


    ¡°You tried to tie me up even though I told you I was going to have to go to the bathroom!¡±


    ¡°Like I said, very reasonable.¡±


    ¡°You tried to leave me in the bathroom!¡±


    ¡°But I didn¡¯t, did I?¡±


    ¡°Well, no, but¡­¡±


    ¡°See?¡± Claire hid another faint smile behind a bite of bread.


    Sylvia was feeling less amused, but she didn¡¯t bother protesting. The vixen was already aware that the other halfbreed wasn¡¯t exactly what one could call keen on compromise.


    ¡°So how do I get to the citadel?¡±


    ¡°Dad always leaves through a really big rock. I can show you where it is, but I¡¯m not really sure where it leads. I¡¯ve never left Mirewood Meadow¡­¡±


    There was a moment of silence as the two chewed away at their respective meals.


    ¡°How often does the bell ring?¡± asked Claire, after a few bites.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s an easy one! It¡¯ll ring for two turns, then stop for two turns and start all over again.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a turn?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know what a turn is?¡± The fox opened her eyes wide.


    ¡°No, now explain.¡±


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s really weird! I thought everyone knew about them,¡± said Syvlia, after swallowing a bone. ¡°A turn is when it gets all weird, like when it suddenly gets light or dark out, or when it goes from evening back to morning again. The turns always happen in an order. First, it turns from night to day, then it turns from sunset to sunrise, then day to night, and back again.¡±


    ¡°Are the turns on a schedule?¡±


    ¡°Ummm, every twelve hours, I think.¡±


    ¡°So if it didn¡¯t change to night time yesterday, and the bell didn¡¯t toll until this morning¡­¡± Claire mumbled, creasing her brows.


    ¡°The whisper is going to happen again at the end of this turn, but it won¡¯t be night,¡± explained the fox.


    ¡°I knew that.¡±


    It¡¯s okay Claire. You almost had it. You aren''t dumber than a fox. You¡¯re definitely not dumber than a fox.


    There was another brief lull. Claire was still eating, but Sylvia was already finished with her meal, so she walked over and sat at the more reptilian girl¡¯s side, pawing at her tail as she casted Claire the occasional sidelong glance.


    ¡°Ummmm¡­ Can I ask you something?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Awwww, why not? I answered a whole bunch of your questions just now, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Because we had a deal,¡± said Claire. ¡°And because you¡¯re just going to ask me about my race again.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not! I have a completely different question this time! I just wanted to ask if you could help us with the steelwings. I snuck back to take a look while you were still asleep, and they¡¯re still hovering around where all our dens were clustered. I¡¯m not really sure what they¡¯re waiting for, but they don¡¯t seem to want to leave.¡±


    ¡°Not my problem,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Yes it is! That¡¯s where the hexstone is, so you can¡¯t finish your trial if you don¡¯t get rid of them. It¡¯d help us out a lot too, so please?¡±


    ¡°The hexstone?¡±


    ¡°Huh? You don¡¯t know about the hexstones? They¡¯re these big glowy rocks with lots of runes carved into them.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Claire furrowed her brows for a moment, nodding as everything clicked into place. ¡°Now that you mention it, it did say something about a first chapter¡­¡±


    And if there¡¯s a first, there at least has to be a second.


    ¡°Aren''t you one of the torches? I thought that they were all really prepared and kept track of every last thing! Even my dad always knows where he¡¯s going and what he¡¯s doing even though he¡¯s a slob. One time, he got up and said he was going to do something, took a few steps, then turned around and sat back down because he forgot.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not here because I want to be,¡± mumbled Claire. ¡°I didn¡¯t even know there was a dungeon.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ ummm¡­ I¡¯m not really sure about the specifics, but I think you¡¯re supposed to touch all the hexstones. Dad could probably tell you more, but I¡¯m not sure when he¡¯s going to be visiting again. He normally drops by once every few cycles, or at least he tries. He¡¯s not very consistent about it. One time, he didn¡¯t show up for a whole season, but he brought us lots of gifts when he did. One of them was a really shiny rock that could give trees legs and stuff!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a cycle?¡± asked the half-reptile, as she polished off the last bit of her loaf.


    ¡°Twelve turns. It¡¯s the amount of time that it takes for the day and night changes to align themselves with the whisper,¡± explained the fox, as she looked between Claire and the plate. ¡°Are you done with that?¡±


    ¡°Yes, you can do whatever you want with the rest.¡±


    ¡°Thanks!¡±


    The fox pushed the plate next to the pile of branches, retrieved her shovel, and quickly covered it with dirt.


    ¡°What¡¯s a mirewulf?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Ummmm¡­ they¡¯re these big plant monsters that look kind of like wolves with flowers on their heads. They¡¯re really dangerous when it¡¯s nighttime, but they¡¯re harmless during the day. We might be able to find one on the way. Follow me!¡±


    Planting her shovel in the earth, Sylvia began moving towards the burrow¡¯s first entrance.


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire, freezing the fox in its tracks. ¡°You¡¯re just going to take me to the ravens.¡±


    ¡°Well ummm¡­ yeah, but I promise I¡¯ll show you where the citadel is after! Please? Can¡¯t you take a look? You don¡¯t have to do anything if you can¡¯t, and the hexstone should be worth your time anyway if you can!¡±


    Claire paused for a moment to consider her options. Heading to a location with a large number of ravens was risky, but she had already managed to evade them once, and she was confident she could do it again.


    Sylvia was also the only guide she had. Following her around would at least help the bluescale learn a few major landmarks, assuming the fox could be trusted. Whether that assumption held true was a completely different concern with its own set of questions, but the former aristocrat was at least willing to give her the benefit of the doubt for the time being. If the orange furball had wanted to kill her, it would have done it in her sleep.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Setting down the clothing-ladden bag she had been keeping over her shoulder, Claire accompanied the fox outside of the burrow.

 Chapter 30 - The Secret Lives of Llystletein Foxes IV

    Chapter 30 - The Secret Lives of Llystletein Foxes IV


    Claire focused on her ears as she slowly climbed her way up the burrow¡¯s main entrance, the one that Slyvia hadn¡¯t added in the middle of the night. Moving the long triangular organs to and fro, she examined the soundscape and checked if there were any ravens in her vicinity. Only when she was certain of her safety did she lower the shapely floppers to their resting position.


    Why do they have to be so heavy?


    A groan escaped her as she considered the disadvantages of well-endowment. Most of the others found it easy to keep their ears perked up at all times without even the slightest hint of fatigue, but Claire¡¯s were so big and clunky that they had to sit face down on the sides of her head.


    ¡°Claire? What¡¯s taking so long? Hurry up!¡±


    The fox was nowhere to be seen, hidden in the undergrowth, but the distinctive sound of her paws against the plant fibre made it easy for the rogue to follow her. Not that she did. Claire was too preoccupied with her flying machine to care about the canid or its desires. Unlike her, the stump had remained completely unaffected by the night¡¯s knell. It was still sitting on the forest¡¯s floor, its long dead roots resting against the soft dirt.


    With a sad sigh, she scurried up the nearest tree and chased after her newest acquaintance. Navigating the canopy proved much easier than it had the other day. She was able to make larger leaps and remain balanced even when standing on branches that seemed too thin to support her.


    An idea came to mind as she hopped around, an impulse she was more than willing to embrace. Casting her gaze on a random bird flying overhead, Claire took three long strides forward and leapt into the air. A tingling wave of excitement coursed through her as the wind rushed by, pushing back on her ears as she extended a hand and reached for the sparrow. The bird began chirping angrily at her as it frantically beat its wings to rise out of her grasp. After a few moments of struggling, it escaped her, but just barely. Her fingers glanced off the underside of its feathery fan-shaped tail right as her momentum was drained.


    She was soon sent hurtling back into the ground with her heart pounding. She was barely able to stop herself from making contact by grabbing a low hanging branch. Her body felt light as a feather, a third its previous weight at most.


    Swinging back and forth, she launched herself again, this time, not going quite as high. There wasn¡¯t anything left for her to catch, as all the wildlife had fled, but she continued to soar and plummet, her voice the only thing she restrained. Knowing it to be reckless, Claire limited herself to just an odd minute of exhilaration before returning to the fox awaiting her on the forest¡¯s floor.


    ¡°What are you doing Claire? Trying to scare the birds?¡± asked Sylvia, with her head tilted and her tail swaying back and forth. ¡°The steelwings don¡¯t actually scare that easily, you know? They¡¯ll just come annoy you instead. Sometimes they¡¯ll mess with you just because it makes them happy. They¡¯ll even ummm¡­ drop payloads. I hate them.¡±


    ¡°I was testing something,¡± said Claire, with a practiced straight face. ¡°Why did you stop?¡±


    ¡°Because you were being really weird, duh,¡± said the fox. ¡°Oh, and since you don¡¯t know much about the forest, I thought I¡¯d show you something.¡± Sylvia pointed a limb at a particularly conspicuous tree. ¡°You see that? The one with the really smooth bark?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­?


    Claire paused for a moment to eye the towering giant. It was broad-leafed, like all the others, but its trunk lacked the knots and ridges that most were riddled with. Many of its branches were low hanging, tipped with fully mature out of season acorns. Paying closer attention, she noted that its colour was slightly faded, its rind a lighter shade of brown. Difficult to make out under all the moss, but distinct nonetheless.


    ¡°Did you know it can make fruits out of nowhere? And they¡¯re really tasty too! Here, watch this!¡±


    Sylvia scampered to the tree, her tail wagging left and right like a puppy¡¯s. Standing up on two legs as she reached it, the fox knocked three times, lightly rapping the back of her paw against the unwrinkled wood. Nothing happened at first, but as Sylvia was humming, still content and unsurprised, Claire decided that it was best to keep quiet and wait.


    The tree groaned to life after about a minute of idling. Its roots rapidly expanded and contracted. They sucked various substances from the earth and gathered them in its stem to form a large lump. The round protrusion slowly moved up the trunk and through the lowest branch, stopping right above the first bunch of acorns. The fruits grew as the orb shrank, inflating to three or four times their previous size. Their form was also greatly altered, with their cupules shrinking into a stem and their nuts growing circular and soft. A fuzzy red skin formed around the once brown kernels, turning each into something that closely resembled a small peach.


    Sylvia reached up and grabbed the lowest hanging fruit. She held it in both front paws, leapt over a series of roots, and returned to Claire¡¯s side. Even walking on her hind legs, the fox was surprisingly steady. The behaviour almost seemed natural to her, despite its incongruity with her frame.


    ¡°Try it. It¡¯s really good, I promise!¡±


    Claire raised the produce to her face, inspecting it with a flicker of the tongue before she dared to taste it. Its scent was surprisingly sweet, so she popped the whole thing in her mouth at once. Apparently the fox found her caution amusing, as she raised both hands to her face and snorted as she did her best to choke back a laugh.


    Biting down, the bluescale opened her eyes wide. It was the most edible thing that she had happened upon in the dungeon so far. The texture was airy and soft. It almost felt like her teeth had slipped right past its flesh, separating the individual pieces with little to no effort. There wasn¡¯t even a pit to stop her from tearing right through its center. Likewise, the flavour was also on the lighter side, much milder than its scent, with a faint sweetness that lingered in her mouth even after she swallowed.


    ¡°It¡¯s far from delicious, but I wouldn¡¯t say it¡¯s unaccepta¡ª¡±


    Claire stopped speaking as her nose started to itch. Her head lurched, ejecting a gust of air from her nostrils. Alongside the sneeze came a burst of dandelion-like seeds, each with its own tiny parachute. It wasn¡¯t until she eyed her latest log entry that she was provided an explanation.


    Log Entry 675


    You have been poisoned. You will periodically sneeze out bundles of seeds for the next 5 minutes.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Log Entry 676


    You are now familiar with and capable of producing Soarspore Poison.


    ¡°Syl-¡± Claire sneezed. ¡°Sylvia!¡±


    Her eyes shot towards the fox, who had already given up on stifling her laughter. She was on the ground, rolling around with her legs flailing and her chest heaving as she cackled.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you ate it!¡± she choked out, between gasps. ¡°Only cubs ever fall for that one! I can¡¯t believe you actually did it!¡±


    Claire narrowed her gaze as she strutted over to the tree, grabbed a fruit, and dashed at her companion, sneezing all the way.


    ¡°Here she comes!¡± Still laughing, the fox darted into the underbrush.


    ¡°Get! Ba-back! Here!¡±


    Claire chased after her, but catching the canid proved difficult. There was almost always a tree or branch between the two of them. Whenever she got close, Sylvia would alter her momentum by using her tail to push off or grab ahold of an object in her vicinity.


    The pursuit continued until the two reached a small clearing, a watering hole about ten meters in one direction and twice that in the other. Within it was a liquid clear enough to leave its gravelly depths laid bare. Its edges were shallow, but they quickly tapered into a deep pool. An occasional fish could be seen swimming about, darting in and out of the dark hole that lay at the center of the tiny lake. But even as impressive as it was, the opening¡¯s appearance had nothing to do with the chase¡¯s abrupt end. That accomplishment belonged instead to Sylvia¡¯s ability to walk on the water.


    ¡°Can¡¯t catch me now!¡±


    The fox turned to face her pursuer as she reached the lake¡¯s center. Her tongue was lolled and her chest was heaving, but the self-proclaimed half elf continued to laugh, shrilly, in a way that no humanoid could.


    Claire, on the other hand, remained mostly unaffected. Her breathing was much steadier, thrown off only by the occasional huff of indignance. The poison had left her system long ago.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re not tired yet! My legs are already about to give out!¡± panted the smug fox.


    ¡°It¡¯s my father¡¯s blood,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Are you finally going to tell me what you are!?¡±


    Excited, Sylvia trotted over to the water¡¯s edge.


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire, as she grabbed one of the vixen¡¯s paws, pulled her close, and shoved the fruit into her still open mouth.


    ¡°Aaaaahh! What wa-¡± Sylvia sneezed. ¡°That for!?¡±


    ¡°Payback,¡± said the bluescale, matter-of-factly.


    ¡°You¡¯re so mean¡­ I wa-¡± Again, Sylvia sneezed. ¡°Just playing around!¡±


    ¡°You made me eat something weird.¡±


    With a blank look on her face, Claire slowly reached towards the fox and poked her on the nose. It was just a harmless boop, so the canid didn¡¯t back off. Her lack of caution seemed fairly reasonable, but it soon proved itself a mistake. Claire threw another finger into the mix and plugged both Sylvia¡¯s nostrils right as she tried to sneeze. Left with nowhere to go, most of the seeds found themselves stuck in her snout while the rest wormed their way into the back of her throat.


    ¡°Aaaaaahhhh! What the heck!?¡± Pulling away, Sylvia pawed at her face and blew out as much air as she could.


    ¡°More payback.¡± Only then did Claire¡¯s expression finally shift from a poker face to a small but sure smirk.


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t th-¡± Sylvia sneezed. ¡°First bit enough!?¡±


    ¡°No. But it is now.¡±


    Crossing her arms, the half reptilian began taking a seat next to the water. She relaxed for a bit, perking up only as her ears caught wind of an unexpected but familiar sound. Raising them overhead allowed her to capture the noise in more detail. It was a faraway metallic clinking, the distinct sound of forged plate armour. Without any further delay, Claire grabbed the fox by the neck, leapt up the side of a tree, and hid in the canopy.


    ¡°I-I thought yo-you said it was e-enough!¡± she said, between sneezes, as she flailed.


    ¡°Quiet. Someone¡¯s coming.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t! I can¡¯t s-stop sneezing!¡±


    ¡°Oh. Right.¡± Claire set Sylvia down and silently crawled into another tree.


    ¡°Y-you can¡¯t just d-ditch me! This is y-your fault!¡± shouted a teary-eyed Sylvia in a whisper.


    ¡°Good luck,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°You¡¯re so mean!¡±


    Ignoring the vixen, Claire climbed higher, stopping only after she found a well-hidden perch. She directed her eyes through a small hole in the canopy and kept them focused on the faraway pair. Both were beasts with tall four legged frames. Each had a human-like body at the front, featuring a second chest, a pair of arms, and a humanoid head. Centaurs. The pair wore breastplates and long frontal bubble skirts made of retractable sheets of steel that extended to their knees. A lever positioned near their humanoid waists controlled the pleated battledresses¡¯ heights; they could be lowered down to their fetlocks, if they needed extra protection. Their rear legs were more exposed, featuring coverings primarily fashioned of leather. Only their greaves were metal, likely to save on expenses. The armour¡¯s design was typical and likely of a Valencian origin.


    ¡°Think we should take a quick break?¡± asked the stallion.


    He was a portly blonde with a pair of rounded glasses. His upper half looked fit as a fiddle, but there was no fooling Claire¡¯s gaze. His horsier parts were far from average.


    ¡°We just took a break six hours ago,¡± said the mare. Unlike her companion, she wasn¡¯t lacking in muscle or sporting any extra weight. Her whole body was thin, just like her tragically tiny ears.


    ¡°But this is the only watering hole in the area,¡± said the man. ¡°If we don¡¯t stop now, we¡¯ll be without any water for the next day.¡±


    ¡°Then make some. I could march for another three nights without stopping.¡±


    ¡°Marleena, please. Have mercy. You know I don¡¯t have the stamina to keep up with you, and you know just as well as I do that stale water hardly does the trick. Can¡¯t you at least let me catch my breath and refill my skin?¡± The male placed a hand against the trunk of a tree, panting heavily as he set down his gear. ¡°I just need five minutes.¡±


    ¡°Lazy oaf.¡± Marleena wrinkled her nose and looked upon the other man with disdain. ¡°You are an ascended centaur. How is it that you are incapable of marching for two straight days like the rest of us?¡± The words were spat at him, laced with a shrill venom.


    ¡°I¡¯m a plainsrunner, Marleena. I would have no problems marching for three days in a prairie, but I am not well adapted to the forest.¡±


    ¡°Excuses.¡± Marleena trotted to the pond¡¯s edge, emptying her canteen in the mud before refilling it with fresh water. ¡°Hurry up, Carter. We need to get a move on.¡±


    The man didn¡¯t respond.


    ¡°Carter?¡± Turning her head, Marleena found her companion staring at a tree.


    ¡°I think I hear something.¡± The stallion¡¯s head was turned in Sylvia¡¯s direction, honed in perfectly on her location. ¡°Some sort of¡­ sniffling.¡±


    Marleena followed his gaze, raising her ears and opening them wide.


    ¡°Probably some critter. Just leave it. If you don¡¯t hurry up, I¡¯ll leave you behind. We¡¯ve got some borroks to track,¡± she said, already starting to set off.


    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am,¡± he said, with a defeated sigh.


    He moved to the water and began emptying his canteen, only to freeze again as he moved to fill it.


    ¡°What now?¡± groaned his companion.


    ¡°Give it another minute or two, and that sniffling critter¡¯s probably dead,¡± he said. ¡°I think I just saw a big snake, reflected in the water. Or at least it¡¯s eyes.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes. Carter the ever compassionate, always worried about every last life. Perhaps I might¡¯ve been more inclined to think you cared, if I didn¡¯t know that you were a cold blooded killer.¡±


    ¡°That was in the past,¡± he whispered. ¡°I¡¯m atoning, now.¡±


    It was too quiet for Marleena to hear, but clear as day for Claire. Or at least it would have been, had she not been too preoccupied with looking for a snake. Despite her best efforts, the only slithering serpent she could find was the one on her shoulder, pestering her to commit bloody murder.

 Chapter 31 - The Secret Lives of Llystletein Foxes V

    Chapter 31 - The Secret Lives of Llystletein Foxes V


    Having thoroughly inspected her surroundings for snakes, Claire dropped down from her perch and walked back towards the clearing. The centaurs were already gone. They had trotted off as soon as they finished refilling their waterskins, one with vigour, and the other reluctance.


    ¡°Are you still alive, Sylvia?¡± she called out to her guide as she put both her bone daggers away.


    ¡°Yes, no thanks to you!¡±


    The vixen poked her head out from a patch of leaves with a grumble. She was no longer sneezing, but her snout still twitched from time to time. The fur around it was covered with seeds, an obvious result of her attempt to stay silent.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you did that to me!¡± she complained, shooting Claire a venomous glare. ¡°I really thought I was going to die! I had to keep my nose plugged the whole time just to make sure I wouldn¡¯t sneeze, and they still nearly found me.¡±


    ¡°Hide better next time.¡±


    ¡°How am I supposed to hide better!? It wouldn¡¯t have mattered because someone decided to shove a poisonous fruit down my throat! Hiding better wouldn¡¯t have helped at all! They were still going to hear me unless I got really far away.¡±


    ¡°You could¡¯ve just run, if it was that big of a deal.¡±


    ¡°I just spent half an hour running¡­ How am I supposed to run if my legs feel like jelly!? Can¡¯t you see how wobbly they are right now?¡±


    ¡°The only thing I can see is your face.¡±


    ¡°Oh right.¡± Sylvia hopped onto the ground, nearly failing the landing. Her body was sprawled, all four limbs open so wide that her stomach was only an inch above the ground. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how you didn¡¯t notice. I was really unsteady when I was on the water too.¡±


    ¡°Apparently, I¡¯m bad at paying attention to details,¡± mumbled Claire.


    Stupid box.


    ¡°I¡¯m not that great at it either. I always keep forgetting more things than I remember. Oh, and speaking of, there¡¯s something I want to check on nearby. Follow me!¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Awww, why not?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just going to be another dumb prank.¡±


    ¡°I promise it¡¯s not! I¡¯ve actually got a really nice hiding spot nearby. Well, ummm, it¡¯s not actually mine since we share it, but it¡¯s basically mine. It¡¯s still above ground, so it¡¯s not really safe at night, but it¡¯s a really nice home away from home during the day. It¡¯s kind of hard to explain, but you¡¯ll get it when you see it. Can you swim?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then I guess I¡¯ll have to use my magic.¡± Sylvia sighed as she began pawing at Claire¡¯s leg. ¡°Can you pick me up? Gently please.¡±


    Claire grabbed the fox by the tail and yanked her up so they were face to face.


    ¡°Good enough?¡±


    ¡°I said gently!¡± she complained, as she flailed about. ¡°If you walk around while you¡¯re holding me like this, I¡¯m going to get really dizzy and I won¡¯t be able to keep the spell going.¡±


    ¡°Is this better?¡± Claire turned the fox around and pulled it close to her chest, tucking both her arms underneath the canid¡¯s forelimbs.


    ¡°Yup! Ok, now when I give the signal, walk straight into the lake and into that big hole in the middle.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure this isn¡¯t just another prank?¡±


    ¡°I wish it was, that¡¯d be much more fu¡ªerm, I mean it¡¯s not and I don¡¯t like messing with people for fun. There¡¯s just something like a den on the other side of the water thingy. If you keep walking, you¡¯ll reach the other side. Now give me a second to cast.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I believe you.¡± The rogue raised her brow, her steps growing slower and more hesitant as she got closer to the water¡¯s edge.


    ¡°Ughhhhhh, come on Claire! Just trust me!¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve already tricked me more than once.¡±


    ¡°Well ummm¡­ I only did it with the rope because I didn¡¯t want to stay tied up all night, and the fruit was just a harmless prank. Wasn¡¯t all that chasing just great?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Well I had lots of fun. Maybe you just need to learn to enjoy the simpler things in life.¡±


    ¡°Like running through a forest and chasing down an obnoxious fox?¡±


    ¡°Yup! I promise it¡¯s plenty of fun.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it is...¡±


    ¡°Trust me, it is! You just have to stop taking everything so seriously.¡±


    Closing her eyes, Sylvia hummed a tune and forged a musical note made of mana. The magical inscription, which glowed in a pale green, dissipated into the air soon after it was crafted, reforming around the pair as a thin ovular barrier barely visible to the naked eye.


    ¡°Now hurry up and start walking before the spell wears off! I can¡¯t keep it up forever.¡±


    With a frown, Claire hovered a foot above the water¡¯s surface and slowly lowered it inch by inch. Her eyes opened wide when she discovered that it slipped through the liquid without making contact.


    She was unable to interact with the water at all. Her whole body, clothes and all, phased straight through it as if it were incorporeal. The sensation would have been equivalent to that of walking through the walls in her dreams if not for the fact that she could still detect the accompanying change in temperature. The hairs on her legs rose as the limbs began to shiver. The tingling cold spread with every step, rising as she continued her descent into the tiny lake¡¯s depths.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The feeling wasn¡¯t so bizarre at waist or chest level, but Claire froze when it got to her face. She could feel the cold fill the insides of her mouth, regardless of whether she kept it closed. It tickled her nose as it rose through her nostrils, but she didn¡¯t feel the urge to sneeze, nor was her breathing disrupted. And when it washed halfway over her eyes, she had to close them and hurry deeper so that she wouldn¡¯t be overwhelmed by discomfort.


    Looking down, she found the fox staring up at her. Sylvia had the corners of her lips raised in expectation. To many others, the expression would have been off putting, given that the fox¡¯s sharp pointed teeth were on full display, but Claire didn¡¯t react. Her own fangs may have been smaller and less numerous, but they were just as jagged and deadly.


    Does she want me to say something?


    All the signs seemed to point to a clear yes, so the rogue looked up, set her expression to neutral, and marched on without another word.


    Her surroundings dimmed as she dropped down into the hole at the pool¡¯s center. The fall was slow and gradual. It was too dark for her to make out her surroundings in detail, but she never felt like she accelerated. The light above grew further at a steady pace. And when her feet finally met the floor, they did so gently. Her knees didn¡¯t need to bend to support the shift in her weight, nor did she need to concern herself with staying balanced. It almost felt like she was being kept afloat, even though she was slipping right through the water.


    There was a loud crackle a few seconds after she touched down. And not because of her. Lamp posts on both sides of the narrow corridor flickered to life, revealing a small rocky tunnel just a bit taller than she was. Dark green weeds could be seen growing from within the stone, standing upright with their stems aflutter. An underwater meadow that looked nothing like the swamp.


    Claire waded through the subaquatic grassland, pushing the thick blades of greenery out of her way as she advanced. After a few minutes, she reached a small incline, an upwards slope that led her out of the water into another forested area. Confused, the halfbreed turned around, but the path she had just taken was nowhere in sight. There was nothing but more woodland behind her, and the only water in her vicinity was the marshy field overhead.


    The fox in her arms was once again grinning from ear to ear. Her tail was wagging, brushing against Claire¡¯s cloak every time it moved back and forth.


    ¡°Well? What do you think? Awesome, wasn¡¯t it? That¡¯s a fox trail. We¡¯ve got plenty of them scattered throughout the whole forest,¡± said Sylvia, as she slipped out of the bluescale¡¯s arms. ¡°Oh, and we¡¯re outside steelwing territory now too, so you don¡¯t have to keep looking around the trees all the time.¡±


    Claire paused for a moment before she decided to speak. ¡°What happened to all the water?¡± Her ears were twitching, a clear sign that her curiosity had come out on top.


    ¡°It¡¯s still there, but the path we just took is closed. You¡¯ll need to jump down that tree to get back.¡± Sylvia pointed to a stump. ¡°It¡¯s a bit hard to explain since us foxes are the only ones that can make it work, but enough about that. We¡¯re almost at the hideout. Follow me!¡±


    Her destination was only a hop, a skip, and a jump away. Crawling through a bush, she revealed a small door carved into the side of a tree. Claire tried squinting and tilting her head, but no matter how she changed her perspective, she was unable to see anything but an illustration, a childish piece of artwork chiseled into the trunk with a sharp stone. The lines were rough and squiggly; each cut sitting at a different depth. Some were barely present, nearly faint enough to be dismissed as natural blemishes, while others were deeply engraved, violently etched into the wood.


    And yet, it was tangible. Sylvia placed a paw on the knob and turned it, revealing an interior space much larger than the tree itself. It was a small house, one decorated with all sorts of furniture made of polished wood. The home had windows, openings from which light and air could stream in. Even though the trunk did not.


    ¡°Is anyone here? It¡¯s me, Sylvia!¡± she shouted as she entered. Her voice was oddly muted, as if it were coming from far away.


    Claire followed after her, ducking through the door, which only stood at about chest height. For once in her life, she felt like a giant. Back home, all the doors dwarfed her. They were more than two times her measure, constructed for citizens that stood at three meters on average and warriors that stood at four. Here, everything was backwards. The tables were at knee height and the chairs only went up to half that. Crouching was mandatory. Her head would have banged against the ceiling if she stood.


    This must be how Rydland feels. No wonder he¡¯s always so bitter.


    ¡°Sylvia? The pesky little cub?¡±


    A fox with shaggy orange-silver fur and a missing ear emerged from within the house. He was standing upright with a small bone in his mouth and his front paws resting atop a shovel with a bent, broken blade. He was nearly twice the other fox¡¯s size, in part because his coat was much puffier.


    ¡°Grant! I knew you¡¯d be here! And I¡¯m not a cub anymore, I came of age last cycle. I¡¯m an adult now, and that¡¯s a fact, no matter what you and Reynault say!¡±


    ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t know where any of the other foxes were.¡± Claire sideeyed Sylvia, who promptly turned her head away.


    ¡°I-I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. I never said anything like that.¡±


    ¡°Then why aren''t you facing me anymore?¡±


    ¡°Because if I look at you, you¡¯ll know I¡¯m lying!¡± The fox quickly brought both paws to her mouth. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean that! I mean ummmm¡­ I never lie! I only ever tell the truth, honest!¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°Of course you do.¡±


    ¡°And who might you be?¡± The second fox looked the reptilian blueblood up and down. ¡°Turn back to your regular form. My eyes are too blurry to recognize you as a sprite.¡±


    ¡°My what?¡± Claire raised a brow.


    ¡°Oh, ummm, Grant, this is Claire. She¡¯s one of the torches, and she can¡¯t shapeshift. Or at least I don¡¯t think she can, since she¡¯s really conspicuous and it¡¯s really easy to identify her.¡±


    ¡°A torch!?¡± The one-ear gasped. ¡°Meow! Meow meeoooow meow meeeeow!¡±


    Why is he also pretending to be a cat?


    ¡°Grant? You know I can¡¯t understand you unless you actually talk, right?¡±


    Shaking his head, Grant stumbled over to Sylvia and pulled her into the next room.


    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to let the torch know you can talk,¡± whispered the older fox. ¡°And you¡¯re not supposed to bring them to our hideouts either. What¡¯s the matter with you, cub? Have you lost your mind?¡±


    Claire had no trouble listening in even though the man had lowered his voice¡ªnot that she was particularly interested in the discussion to begin with. Her focus was on the wall, where she found several tools suspended from a rack.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay! I¡¯ve actually convinced her to help, I think. It¡¯s at least better than sitting around and waiting for the steelwings to go away, right?¡±


    The rogue lifted a shovel and examined it in detail. Unlike Sylvia¡¯s, which had looked more or less like a wing strapped to a stick, its shaft was made of a tough polished wood, smooth to the touch and reflective when exposed to direct sunlight. The blade looked to have been beaten into its current shape, likely by the stone hammer hanging beside it. I almost forgot. I need to go hunt some more frogs.


    ¡°Better? This is not better, cub! Do you know what the torches have done to us? They know what we are, Sylvia, and they¡¯re not beyond hurting us to achieve their goals. I¡¯d much rather deal with a flock of steelwings than risk exposing myself to one of them.¡±


    ¡°Well it¡¯s too late now! Her burrow was the only real shelter I found, and I had to talk to negotiate! Besides, she¡¯s kinda nice.¡±


    ¡°Really now?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ maybe not, but she¡¯s only tried to kill me once! That¡¯s already way better than Dad¡¯s friends, and you didn¡¯t mind them at all!¡±


    ¡°Once is more than plenty.¡± The older fox sighed. ¡°And Zelos¡¯ companions came to us under a completely different set of circumstances. You cannot simply equate them, cub.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going back outside. I¡¯ll be back soon.¡± Claire popped into the room and interrupted the conversation, hammer and shovel in hand. ¡°Oh, and I¡¯m borrowing these.¡±


    ¡°Borrowing them? Those are my tools and you may not borrow them without my express permiss¡ª¡± shouted Grant, before cutting himself off and finishing with a series of angry meows.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± said Claire, rolling her eyes.


    ¡°Have fun out there! I should be done talking to him soon, but if you¡¯re going to do something, I might as well take a nap. I should be up in around an hour, maybe a little more, maybe a little less. I¡¯m not really sure, but you can wake me up whenever you¡¯re back.¡±


    ¡°Done? No, no, no, you will not be done, cub. You need to be reminded that actions have consequences.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Grant! I¡¯m not a cub anymore, and I don¡¯t have to listen to any more of your lectures!¡±


    Leaving the two foxes to argue amongst themselves, Claire exited the treehouse, raised her ears, and sought the closest frog.

 Chapter 32 - The Secret Lives of Llystletein Foxes VI

    Chapter 32 - The Secret Lives of Llystletein Foxes VI


    Sylvia pushed her legs forward and raised her rear, stretching like a cat as she blinked awake. The Llystletein woodfox opened her mouth in a wide yawn and inched away from the window with her tail lightly waving back and forth. She had enjoyed basking in the afternoon sun, but she had to escape its grasp. Its gentle warmth was sure to lure her back into the land of dreams if she stayed in it any longer.


    ¡°Is Claire back yet?¡± she asked, her eyes blinking rapidly.


    Frowning at the distinct lack of an answer, she raised her head and looked around the sunroom. It¡¯s other occupant was curled up atop a rocking chair, his tail tucked underneath his puffy greying face and his eyes tightly shut. His chest slowly rose and sank as he slept, a light snore accompanying each breath.


    ¡°He¡¯s still asleep?¡± she whispered. ¡°Well, it is nice and warm. I guess I can¡¯t really blame him.¡±


    She walked up to him, but didn¡¯t dare disturb his slumber.


    ¡°It took me a really really long time to convince him to listen. If he wakes up in a bad mood, then I¡¯ll have worked my butt off for nothing,¡± she whispered. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. It¡¯s not like going with my idea hurts him at all. He just has to sit around a little more than usual. She¡¯s the only one kinda getting the short end of the stick.¡±


    Sylvia started grooming herself after glancing at the messy state of the other fox¡¯s fur. She was going to have to look clean and presentable if she wanted to deal with a torch.


    ¡°Why does Grant always have a winter coat, anyway? Is he just so old that he can¡¯t tell what time of year it is anymore?¡±


    Once clean, she waved a paw in front of his face to make sure he was really asleep and not just trying to fool her, then stretched one last time and left the sunroom.


    ¡°Maybe Claire will be back by the time I find something to eat.¡±


    Nodding to herself, convinced and satisfied, Sylvia crawled out the front door and climbed the tree¡¯s exterior. She sang a note as she hopped to the far end of its lowest branch.. The musical inscription given form by her voice was glued to her snout and raised alongside it.


    As a halfbreed, Sylvia lacked the keen sense of smell that all the other foxes had, but the enchantment her father had taught her more than made up the difference. The vixen¡¯s nose was able to pinpoint a small nest in a nearby brush. Leaping to it, she bore her fangs and growled to chase the mother away before consuming the delicious eggs left behind.


    It was an enjoyable meal, but not quite satisfying enough, so she chased down the mouse she had heard along the way. The tiny rodent was a fast runner and it knew how to use the undergrowth to its advantage, but it was no match for the veteran hunter. A single northeasterly pounce was all she needed to stop it in its tracks.


    ¡°That should keep me full for the next few hours.¡± She spoke to herself in a singsongy tone as she pressed her paws down on the mouse¡¯s back and finished it. ¡°But Claire¡¯s still not back. I wonder where she went¡­ Maybe she¡¯s lost.¡±


    Swallowing her prey whole, the fox returned to the treehouse, placed her nose on the ground, and started sniffing. Her previous rune had already expired, but she didn¡¯t bother recasting the spell. The enchantment was no longer necessary. Though she didn¡¯t excel at tracking, she could still follow a fresh scent without any extra help.


    ¡°I wonder why she won¡¯t tell me what she is¡­ Maybe one of her parents is a dark god or something.¡±


    Chuckling at the outlandish idea, Sylvia decided it was time to gather all her clues and deduce her newest acquaintance¡¯s identity.


    ¡°I doubt she¡¯d be angry enough to attack me, even if I brought it up again.¡±


    The bizarre crocodile-like not-deer¡¯s outline was mostly humanoid. She had exactly two arms, two legs, and no extra appendages. That was something Sylvia could say for certain¡ªthe trickster had snuck a quick peek under Claire¡¯s dress while she was asleep.


    ¡°She has to have some sort of beast blood in her¡­ but what kind? Maybe I should just ask Alfred. He¡¯d probably know. He¡¯s good at knowing things.¡±


    One of Claire¡¯s most striking features was her rare colouring. Her ears were covered in a short coat of fur with a blueish white hue indistinguishable from that of her thick, messy, shoulder length hair. Birds aside, none of the creatures Sylvia knew were coloured the exact same way. They were either more white or more blue.


    Her ears should have served as another obvious hint, but their shape made them difficult to identify. They were triangular and long, with a wide base that gradually thinned out to a sharp tip. They most closely resembled the ears on the horse people that she had seen earlier in the day, but they weren¡¯t exactly comparable. The centaurs¡¯ ears had only been two to three inches long. Claire¡¯s were more than three times that.


    ¡°I know she can¡¯t be a borrok, but rabbits and deer are the only other things with ears that big and silly, and she said she¡¯s not either. Did she lie? Oh, what if she¡¯s a cat?¡± The fox stopped for a moment to consider the possibility. ¡°No, that can¡¯t be right. It¡¯d explain the eyes, but she didn¡¯t have any claws or whiskers and her ears aren''t the right shape¡­ I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    Setting Claire¡¯s mammalian half aside for the time being, Sylvia moved on to considering the traits that the blue-maned halfbreed had inherited from her other parent. One thing was for sure. She had small scaly patches all over her body. They were on her arms, her legs, and even her neck. Most of the individual scales were rather small, with the largest four featured on her face. Two large triangles decorated both her cheeks, each extending all the way to her neck.


    ¡°They were really smooth, kind of like a fish¡¯s, but she can¡¯t be a fish since she can¡¯t swim. She can¡¯t be a crocodile either. Maybe she¡¯s a snake? No, that can¡¯t be right. Snakes don¡¯t have legs.¡±


    Sylvia continued to speak out loud as she climbed up the side of a steep hill. Her snout was no longer near the ground. The fox could tell that Claire was just on the other side of the mound; she could hear her stomping her way through the undergrowth.


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    ¡°Maybe she¡¯s a lizard.¡±


    She began picking up on the scent of blood as she got closer to the summit. That wasn¡¯t too strange, in and of itself, but there seemed to be a lot of it.


    ¡°She¡¯s gotta be at least half lizard.¡±


    Humming a victorious theme, the half elf smiled as she crested the hill. Being rather familiar with the area, she knew what to expect: a lightly forested, humble valley centered around a long winding stream.


    But that was not what she saw.


    She was greeted instead by a painting made of viscera. Blood, guts, and grey matter desecrated the landscape, transforming it into a scene straight out of hell. Dead frogs were everywhere. Some were suspended from trees, impaled on their branches. Others were dead in the water, their countless corpses serving as a dam that blocked the river¡¯s flow. A third group had died with foam in their mouths and soarspore seeds flooding their eye sockets, while a fourth floated around in the marsh above. And in the middle of it all was Claire.


    ¡°Wow, what a mess. She¡¯s been really busy,¡± said the fox, as she stepped over a dead frog¡¯s tongue. ¡°Thank goodness the dungeon cleans itself.¡±


    The rogue was in the midst of engaging a pair of large multi-headed anurans. Her robe was tattered and covered in blood, and one of her ears was half missing. The frog with more heads was keeping her occupied. Its five vertically stacked faces lashed out with their tongues at regular intervals while its four-skulled partner moved to a vantage point.


    Their coordinated efforts came to fruition in the form of a loud crunch. Claire¡¯s left arm was shattered by the four-header. It fell to her side, broken, limp, and unmoving.


    ¡°Ouch¡­ that isn¡¯t good,¡± muttered Sylvia.


    The fox thought the injury rather severe, but an annoyed scowl aside, the other halfbreed appeared mostly unaffected. She continued to fight, dancing between the frogs¡¯ tongues as she whacked at them with her weapon. Repeating the strategy for a minute or two, she eventually defeated one with a spinning sweep and the other with a heavy smash.


    ¡°Okay, Sylvia, you know the drill. Act cute, get her wrapped around your paws, and she¡¯ll do anything you want,¡± she whispered to herself, before raising her voice. ¡°Claire!¡± The vixen stuck her head out of the bush she was hiding in and shouted. ¡°I¡¯m done checking on Grant and napping. Are you ready to go?¡±


    After raising her ears up high and checking her surroundings, the blue-maned humanoid holstered her large bony weapon and walked over.


    ¡°Not yet. I want some of their antlers,¡± she said, as her arm cracked back into place, all on its own.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe that didn¡¯t make you cry. I would¡¯ve bawled for days!¡± said Sylvia, looking between the other girl¡¯s face and freshly repaired limb. ¡°Wait, what happened to Grant¡¯s stuff? Didn¡¯t you borrow a hammer and a shovel or something?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± Claire averted her gaze.


    ¡°Oh no, don¡¯t tell me you broke them.¡± Sylvia¡¯s head plopped forward. ¡°Grant¡¯ll be so mad!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know where the hammer went.¡± The moose-lizard silently began walking over to the riverbank and retrieved a deformed tool. ¡°I threw it at something and it disappeared.¡±


    ¡°Nevermind the hammer, what the heck did you do to the shovel!? Its blade is so bent out of shape that it¡¯s starting to look like a hoe!¡±


    ¡°I tried digging.¡±


    ¡°Shovels don¡¯t just bend out of shape if you dig with them. You had to have done something wrong. Were you trying to use it to break a rock?¡± Sylvia tilted her head.


    ¡°Not exactly,¡± Claire frowned, as she directed her gaze towards her latest kill. ¡°I tried digging through some of the frogs¡¯ skulls.¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­you what? I don¡¯t really think that counts as digging, and it doesn¡¯t really sound like it¡¯d work...¡±


    ¡°Well, it worked the first time,¡± she said, pointing towards a dead frogpole with a gory hole in its head.


    Sylvia stared at the corpse for a few seconds before deciding not to acknowledge it or the ridiculous claim that came with its current state.


    ¡°So ummm... anyway, I think I figured out what you are!¡±


    ¡°Not this again,¡± Claire sighed as she moved to a relatively intact frog. ¡°I told you to stop guessing.¡±


    ¡°Aww¡­ but I think I finally got it this time. Or at least half of it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± said Claire, grunting as she tore one of the frog¡¯s antlers off its skull.


    ¡°Well, how about this then? You let me guess, and if I get it wrong, I¡¯ll tell you how to get a really neat class.¡±


    The bluescale¡¯s ears twitched. ¡°What class?¡±


    ¡°Force mage.¡±


    ¡°Force mage?¡± Claire frowned for a moment, furrowing her brows before sighing and lifting her face. ¡°Fine.¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Sylvia bounced around on all fours as she giggled excitedly. ¡°Alright, so I spent the whole trip thinking about it, so I¡¯m pretty sure I know exactly what one of your halves is!¡±


    ¡°Out with it already.¡±


    ¡°One of your parents was a lizardman!¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°What!? You¡¯re not? But how? You¡¯ve got two legs, scales on your neck and slits for eyes!¡± Sylvia pointed a paw at each part of the other girl¡¯s body as she listed them. ¡°There¡¯s no way you¡¯re not half lizard!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± said Claire, flatly. ¡°So? How do I become a force mage?¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait! How do I know you¡¯re not just lying? Are you sure you¡¯re really not a lizard?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± Claire set down the antler she was peeling, continuing right before Sylvia started to speak up. ¡°My mother¡­ my mother was a lamia.¡± She raised a hand to her face, brushing the back of her fingers against the scales on her cheeks.


    ¡°Huh? Wait, that can¡¯t be right, you have legs!¡±


    ¡°Yes, because my father had four. If you take a thing with four legs and put it together with something with no legs, you get something with two legs, duh.¡±


    ¡°No, no, no, that doesn¡¯t make any sense! You¡¯re supposed to take after one of your parents or the other! I would have three legs and an arm, if it worked like that!¡±


    ¡°It makes sense to me.¡±


    ¡°Well it really shouldn¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°Not my problem,¡± said Claire, as she picked up and started dehorning another frog. ¡°So? How do I become a force mage?¡±


    ¡°Oh, right. Well ermmm, I hope this doesn¡¯t really make you too mad, but it¡¯s actually really simple. All you have to do is touch the second hexstone.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°Yup!¡±


    ¡°So I would have found out, even if you didn¡¯t tell me?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ ummm¡­ yeah.¡±


    ¡°Have I ever mentioned how much you irritate me?¡± Claire closed her eyes and lowered her face, pinching the bridge of her nose as she grumbled.


    ¡°Not my problem,¡± parroted Sylvia, with a chuckle. ¡°Why don¡¯t you like talking about what you are anyway?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like talking about myself.¡± Claire frowned. ¡°Too many people know too much already.¡±


    ¡°Well there¡¯s a point now! I barely know anything about you, and I¡¯m still really curious about what your dad is!¡±


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯d be more inclined to talk if you stopped trying to trick me.¡±


    ¡°I ummm¡­ I¡¯ll try!¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°I really will!¡±


    Rolling her eyes, Claire turned away from Sylvia and got back to work. She had things to do, and dealing with a prying fox was nowhere near the top of her list.

 Chapter 33 - Darkwood Hollow

    Chapter 33 - Darkwood Hollow


    ¡°Are you really sure you needed all those antlers, Claire?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°That¡¯s the third time you¡¯ve asked me that in ten minutes,¡± grumbled Claire.


    The pair was already on the go. Having thoroughly abandoned the thought of confronting Grant about the state of his tools, the fox and the snake had set out without first returning to the treehouse.


    ¡°I know, but I really can¡¯t help it. It just looks like you have way too many,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Well I don¡¯t,¡± lied Claire.


    The serpentine halfbreed was covered in antlers. She had one in each hand, six strung to her ropey belt, and another four tucked into her bandolier. The horns were sharp and jagged, which was good, given that they were meant to be used as weapons. But it wasn¡¯t only good. At least one of the thorny protrusions would prod her with every step. The prickling pain was enough to annoy the blueblood, but it wasn¡¯t bad enough to prompt her to seek an immediate solution. Bearing with it was more than worth saving the embarrassment.


    Yet another pair of antlers sat atop her head. She had repurposed a frog¡¯s freshly cleaned skull into a helmet, with her ears poking out of its massive eye sockets and her nose sitting just under its upper jaw. She could still see out of it, but only because the dead anuran¡¯s nostrils had happened to be at eye level. It only blocked her line of sight when it was jostled out of place, which unsurprisingly happened all the time; the makeshift head protector didn¡¯t exactly fit its owner.


    ¡°Are you sure? It doesn¡¯t look very comfortable.¡±


    ¡°No Sylvia, I¡¯m not sure.¡± The humanoid rolled her eyes as she adjusted her helmet. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure. Stop asking.¡±


    Stupid helmet. Stay still!


    ¡°If you say so¡­¡±


    The fox continued to shoot the occasional curious glance in Claire¡¯s direction, even in spite of the other halfbreed¡¯s harsh tone. It wasn¡¯t the first time she had been told to shut her mouth, and it most certainly was not going to be the last. She spoke whenever they were out of danger, beginning one-sided conversations with lines like ¡°Hey Claire, have I ever told you about the time I caught a fish with my eyes closed?¡± and ¡°You wanna know something really funny about Grant? You won¡¯t believe this, but he wasn¡¯t always so grumpy.¡± The unwelcome introductions would turn into full-on rants, regardless of whether the half-lamia responded.


    By the time the environment had changed, Claire was all but certain that she had unwillingly developed a substantial grasp on Llystletein fox culture. Unlike the veabers¡¯ territory, which featured a wide variety of trees of different shapes and sizes, the foxes¡¯ domain was home to just a select few species, all of which were incredibly tall with canopies thick enough to block out the marsh.


    The forest¡¯s floor was also nearly free of greenery, sporting fewer brushes and an excess of exposed dirt. But it wasn¡¯t bare. Where the plants had withered, the mushrooms thrived. Toadstools could be seen growing from nearly every tree in the area, dead or alive. Their caps spanned all ends of the colour spectrum. Violet chanterelles littered the ground while upside-down crimson sprouts flourished above, hanging from the branches overhead. They were accompanied by thick vines. Green fibrous tentacles were wrapped around nearly every tree, with many featuring bright yellow fungi that dripped with nectar.


    ¡°We¡¯re finally here! This is our neck of the woods. We call it the darkwood because it doesn¡¯t really get as much sun as everywhere else, even though it¡¯s not really that dark,¡± said Sylvia, before directing a paw at a group of mushrooms with long thin stalks. ¡°You see those? Those are lightcrowns. They¡¯re not that noticeable during the day, but they get really bright at night so you can see no matter what time of day it is.¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Oh, and remember how you wanted to know about the mirewulves? This is one of them.¡± The fox walked up to a large flower hanging off the side of a tree. Its massive withered petals were nearly lifeless. Browns and blacks made up most of its colour profile, with only the base sporting a faint hint of green. ¡°They¡¯re harmless during the day, but they¡¯re really scary at night, and the only real way to get away from them is to stay underground.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just a flower.¡±


    ¡°Oh, ummm, about that. It¡¯s actually not just the flower. It¡¯s the whole tree.¡±


    ¡°The whole tree?¡± Claire furrowed her brows and tilted her head. ¡°Aren''t they supposed to look like wolves?¡±


    ¡°Only at night! During the day, they go dormant and turn into trees, so we don¡¯t have to worry about them until it starts getting dark. I think they¡¯re actually just really strong ents or something.¡±


    ¡°Dormant? So it¡¯s sleeping?¡±


    ¡°Ummm, kind of? It¡¯s not exactly the same but it¡¯s pretty close.¡±


    ¡°Then why don¡¯t we just kill it?¡± Claire twirled the antler she had in her right hand, catching it in a reverse grip as she laced it with poison.


    ¡°That¡¯s a really bad idea! It¡¯ll wake up if you attack it, and we¡¯re not going to be able to outrun it!¡± shouted the fox, as she got between the snake and the bulb.


    ¡°How strong is it?¡±


    ¡°Very! It can tear us both to shreds in the blink of an eye and it¡¯ll chase down anything that messes with it while it¡¯s sleeping, so please please please stop thinking about attacking it.¡±


    ¡°Can it take on a hellhog?¡±


    ¡°Ummmm¡­ a hellhog? I think so. I¡¯ve seen one of these beat two of those.¡±


    ¡°Two? By itself?¡± Clicking her tongue, Claire lowered her blade and flicked the rocket fuel off of it.


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    ¡°Yeah, they¡¯ve gotten really scary ever since one of them became the Lord of the Holt. We used to be able to fight them off with fire, but the Holt''s Blessing is making them resistant to it.¡± Sylvia¡¯s tail flopped onto the ground. ¡°Nowadays, we have no choice but to dig our homes under bramblewood trees and stay indoors at night. It sucks because it¡¯s harder to hunt during the day, but I guess it could be worse.¡±


    Weren¡¯t the stupid squirrel things living aboveground? Shouldn¡¯t they all be dead if these things are all over the place?


    ¡°I still need you to help us with the steelwings. I¡¯d like it if you didn¡¯t get yourself killed until you¡¯ve solved all my problems for me,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°That was blunt.¡±


    ¡°I learn from the best,¡± she said, smiling.


    Claire could feel her cheeks tugging her lips skyward, so she quickly forced a frown, crossed her arms, and huffed.


    ¡°Shut up and get moving. We don¡¯t have all day.¡±


    ¡°Sure Claire, whatever you say.¡±


    With a light giggle and a knowing smile, Sylvia continued on her way.


    ___


    ¡°Stop here. I don¡¯t think we can get any closer,¡± said Sylvia, in a whisper. ¡°Oh, and welcome to Darkwood Hollow!¡±


    The two halfbreeds were sitting in a tree. One was on all fours, perched on a thick branch with her arms between her legs. The other was positioned above her. Sylvia¡¯s head rested right on top of Claire¡¯s, her fuzzy front paws positioned upon the other girl¡¯s equally furry ears. It was almost like she was a hat. Almost.


    ¡°Remind me. Why are you on top of me again?¡± grumbled Claire.


    ¡°Better me than that silly helmet, right?¡±


    Sylvia was heavier than the skull, but she wasn¡¯t anywhere nearly as prickly. And as could be seen from the unhealed cuts on the rogue¡¯s ears and forehead, the two properties weren¡¯t exactly equivalent.


    ¡°Shut up. It was supposed to be a good idea.¡±


    Claire reached for the fox¡¯s tail, looking to pinch it in retaliation, but she stopped just shy of following through. It was going to have to wait. They were far too deep in enemy territory, and the resulting yelp was sure to get them caught. That wasn¡¯t to say that the rogue was going to let the fur ball off the hook. She was still going to get her revenge, one way or another.


    No dumb fox is going to get the better of me.


    Turning her eyes away from the puffy appendage and back towards the settlement, Claire found herself staring at a small clearing barely any different from any other. The only object of note was a two meter tall  obelisk, nearly covered in moss and highlighted by a wide beam of light. She could make out a few runes beneath the patches of green, but a lack of literacy made it impossible for her to understand them. Still, the stone-centric glade was almost a serene sight, ruined only by the dozens of ravens hovering around the area.


    ¡°Oh, oh, look over there!¡± Sylvia raised a paw. ¡°You see the tree with the purple flower on its trunk? That¡¯s my home. Me and my mom are the only ones who live there, but we had to make it extra tall since dad stops by sometimes and he wouldn¡¯t fit otherwise. You¡¯re a little bit taller than him, but I¡¯m sure you¡¯d fit too. Well, not right now since it¡¯s flooded, but later.¡±


    A short male elf? You don¡¯t see one of those everyday.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± said Claire, intentionally turning her eyes away from the violet blossom. ¡°Now be quiet, I¡¯m trying to think.¡±


    Unlike the flock that she had encountered previously, the ravens sitting around the hollow were eerily silent. New arrivals aside, the only one that made any noise was an exceptionally large bird situated at the hexstone¡¯s base. Its thrusters and its single crimson eye aside, the towering monarch looked perfectly organic. It was twice the width of the average raven and more than three times as tall, standing at roughly the same height as the magical stone.


    Each time it opened its mouth, the bird would let loose a series of deep distinctive squawks. Its voice was commanding, silencing all that heard it without a moment¡¯s delay.


    Why does it sound so familiar...?


    ¡°What¡¯s with the big one?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°That¡¯s the bird in charge,¡± replied the fox. ¡°I think he¡¯s supposed to be ascended or something. We couldn¡¯t fight him off, even though we can hunt the others fairly regularly.¡±


    ¡°Any idea what level it is?¡±


    ¡°Ummmmm¡­ probably around fifty? I¡¯m not really sure.¡±


    ¡°Useless fox...¡± Claire grumbled.


    ¡°Hey, that isn¡¯t even my fault! How am I supposed to know what level it is? None of us have the Judge class, and it¡¯s not like we¡¯d know even if we did! It¡¯s not like we can sit down and talk to it.¡±


    I probably won¡¯t be able to take it in a straight fight.


    ¡°So do you think you can do anything about it?¡±


    ¡°How fast is it?¡±


    ¡°Really fast. Like, really really fast.¡±


    ¡°Be more specific.¡±


    ¡°Like, two or three times as fast as all the other steelwings, maybe? I¡¯m not really sure.¡±


    Too fast for hit and run tactics¡­ Maybe I can poison it.


    ¡°Has it been here this whole time? Where is it getting its food and water?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a lake nearby with lots of really tasty fish. I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s where it¡¯s going, but if I had to guess, I¡¯d say it probably is. It could also be flying into the marsh, but I doubt it. The ravens are really clean and don¡¯t like the marsh water.¡±


    ¡°Can I poison it?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice.


    ¡°Can I poison the lake?¡±


    ¡°O-of course you can¡¯t! What are you thinking!? How are we supposed to live here if you kill all the fish!?¡±


    ¡°You aren''t.¡±


    ¡°Well we have to! We can¡¯t keep an eye on the stone if we don¡¯t and Cyrus will get really mad at us if we stop doing our jobs!¡±


    ¡°Cyrus? Your jobs?¡±


    ¡°Oops¡­ Don¡¯t worry about it, that doesn¡¯t matter. Just think of something else!¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± grumbled the former mage.


    What would Father do?


    Claire closed her eyes and pictured the hulking pig of a duke that was her father. The man¡¯s strategies were nothing if not cowardly and roundabout. But they were effective. No matter how much she disliked them, she couldn¡¯t deny that they minimized casualties. A life-preserving tactic was precisely the sort of solution she needed; brute force wasn¡¯t something that could be applied when the enemy had more of it.


    Thinking back, she recalled the grand schemes that were frequently highlighted as the cornerstones of his career, his deceptive conquest of Sthenia, the Secret Battle of Fjierford, and the betrayal at Atma¡¯s Gorge. Three decisive efforts, all in different wars. She didn¡¯t know all the details, as the man himself rarely boasted, even when questioned by his peers.


    It wasn¡¯t just because he was tight lipped. Virilius Augustus simply didn¡¯t enjoy holding extended conversations. He was known to many for his taciturn nature, speaking at length only when under the influence of a drink strong enough to outright kill a troll.


    What she did know came in the form of second hand accounts, bits and pieces elaborated on by the commanders that so often tried to convince her of his greatness. Even the ever bitter Rydland sang him praise, no doubt in part because he had participated in all three of her father¡¯s great exploits. The jaded officer¡¯s personal favourite, and consequently the effort that Claire knew the most about, was the one at the gorge; mentioning Atma¡¯s name was one of the few known ways to get Rydland to do away with his perpetual scowl.


    That¡¯s it!


    ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Umm¡­ yes? What is it?¡± The fox looked down from her head-perch. ¡°Eek! Please don¡¯t ask me to do anything! The way you¡¯re smiling right now is really scary...¡±


    ¡°How fast can you dig?¡±

 Chapter 34 - Darkwood Hollow II

    Chapter 34 - Darkwood Hollow II


    Together, Claire and Sylvia tunneled their way through the forest¡¯s floor. The pair was barely underground, with only about thirty centimeters between the tunnel¡¯s roof and the surface. In front was the half-lamia, who was using her hands to shape the underpass as she saw fit. The fox to her rear was focused on packing the displaced soil against the walls. They were going to need a path of retreat, and the haphazard way that Claire dug was by no means conducive to two-way travel. If left unattended, she would have left a trail of dirt piles in her wake.


    ¡°Do you really think this is a good idea?¡± Sylvia hummed a tune under her breath, enhancing her tail as she used it to press another mound against the wall. ¡°It seems a bit risky. And by a bit, I mean really, really risky.¡±


    Ignoring the canid, the rogue pressed forward in silence. Tracking informed her that her target was only a few meters away. Because it was so close, she could not only sense its precise location, but also deduce the positions of its various body parts. Not all of it was clear to her¡ªthe skill¡¯s level wasn¡¯t high enough for that just yet¡ªbut she felt like she could see its outline through the soil, even though the bird was still fully obscured.


    Once in position, she stopped digging forwards and turned her attention towards the sky. Slowly, stealthily, she worked her hands through the soil directly overhead, accelerating only after she broke through to the surface. Wrapping a rope around her target¡¯s ankles, she pulled its legs underground before it could react to the unexpected assault.


    It tried flailing at her, gouging at its subterranean assailant with its razor sharp talons, but the bird was unable to deal damage before the knot was tied. While the raven couldn¡¯t break free of the restraints, it did prove capable of outright ignoring them. Flapping its powerful wings, it wrenched itself out from the mud and took to the skies. But not before it was struck. Claire Double Stabbed its legs as it rose. Both antlers were coated in venom. One featured the halfbreed¡¯s staple, rocket fuel, while the other was laced with something much more debilitating.


    Its effects showed themselves immediately. The bird¡¯s beak twitched, moving left and right as it fought to hold back the urge rising within it. A futile struggle.


    Seed-bearing parachutes sprayed from the raven¡¯s nostrils as it sneezed, again and again. It managed to keep itself airborne, but the constant attack on its respiratory system disrupted its focus. That wasn¡¯t to say that the monarch was unaware of its surroundings. Occasional momentary lapse aside, it remained at attention. Its eyes were focused, directed straight at the patch of mud that it had just departed. A deep croaking order guided its subjects to follow suit. Every bird in the area had its eyes peeled for the underground threat.


    And that was precisely why Claire¡¯s next attack did not come from below. She snuck out of the tunnel, climbed a tree, and hopped through the canopy before dropping down and delivering a heavy blow with her mace. The overhead strike smashed an outstretched wing and threw the bird onto the ground. Claire tried to finish it by bashing it over the head with her mace, but another raven interfered, forcing her to dismount her target and evade.


    Thinking her ambush successful, the rogue stayed where she was, swinging the heavy femur around and splattering any corvid that dared approach. It was a decision predicated on the assumption that the king had been crippled. But he wasn¡¯t nearly as injured as she thought.


    Three awkward hops later, the bird returned to the sky. Claire¡¯s attack had drawn blood; the bone she struck was broken. It had snapped at an awkward angle and a jagged piece of it could be seen poking through the king¡¯s feathers. And yet, somehow, the raven remained capable of flight. It wasn¡¯t completely unaffected; the cybernetically enhanced corvid could no longer hover in place. It would drift to the right with every flap of its wings. But it wasn¡¯t grounded. Nor was it oblivious to her whereabouts any longer.


    A loud grating croak erupted from the depths of its throat. It was a paralyzing warcry that reeked of power and experience. Or at least that was what it would have been, had it not been interrupted by a sneeze. The flier resumed its rallying call as soon as it recovered, but the effect was gone. Lost, even in the face of its blatant seething fury.


    He¡¯s almost as indignant as the crazy count.


    Snickering, Claire smashed away another wave of birds before retreating into the canopy and hiding amongst the leaves.


    Completely escaping the flock was impossible. There were far too many of them to lose sight of her, and they appeared to actively communicate her location by squawking at each other, but the rogue paid them little mind. Average altered ravens were no match for her. She had been able to take them out with one strike when her stats were a third their current value. Now, they were just minor setbacks. And in some cases, they even served to help.


    Grabbing one of the smaller birds in the midst of its charge, Claire broke its wings with a squeeze, coated it in a layer of rocket fuel, and threw it straight at its monarch. Unfortunately for the halfbreed, and even more so for the bird, the less-than-aerodynamic projectile missed its mark and hit a large tree instead. The neck-to-trunk collision echoed throughout the woodland, a dull crack accompanied by a sickening wet splatter.


    ¡°I probably need to aim a little bit higher¡­¡±


    Muttering under her breath, she grabbed an antler with her free hand and intercepted a magical attack. The raven king had launched a spear of darkness as visible as a creeping shadow. If not for the mana enveloping it, the dart would have been impossible to see under the cover of night. The crackling purple energy coursed through the boney blade upon making contact, directing itself up Claire¡¯s arm and zapping it with a powerful surge of arcane lightning.


    The lance-shaped slug had been nothing but a vessel, a spell made to deliver another.


    With a grimace and groan, Claire picked herself back up and leapt just far enough to dodge a second, identical attack. She stabbed a random raven along the way, restoring a single point of health with a fatal phantom strike. The healing was a tiny fraction of the damage that she had taken, but she wasn¡¯t worried. She wasn¡¯t too hurt and there was more than enough cannon fodder for a full recovery. All she had to do was go on a stabbing spree.


    The only problem?


    She didn¡¯t have the time.


    The raven king burst through the verdant clouds that kept her figure obscured. Its wings were folded and its engine was roaring. Burning hot fire spewed from its rear, marring its path with a trail of smoke. Its first strike missed, taking down a tree to her left. But it kept going, rising into the air as it tore through boughs and branches like sheets of paper.


    It stopped just a few inches from the swamp, spreading its wings to come to an abrupt halt. Momentum nulled, it jumped back into action, flipping on its head and reigniting its thrusters. Another attempt on her life.


    This time, the bird threw an additional element into the mix, a twist. It began rotating as it accelerated, spinning like a drill as it closed in on her.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Claire raised her weapon and prepared to counter the rush, but soon realized that it wasn¡¯t an option. Her foe¡¯s body was covered in lightning. It was hard to make out given the way the cybernetic raptor was moving, but the occasional dark purple glint gave it away. Diving forward, Claire managed to get out of the avian¡¯s path, but the tree she had been perched in wasn¡¯t so lucky. A chunk was taken out of its three meter wide trunk and its branches and leaves were doused in crimson flame. But somehow, none of it caught fire.


    Ignoring the inconsistency, the rogue spun around and threw her antler at her feathery assailant. It pierced the raven¡¯s lower back, drawing a splash of blood. But the bird didn¡¯t flinch. It tried to match the attack with one of its own, but the urge to sneeze took it out of the moment.


    Not missing her chance, Claire flung her mace at one of the raven¡¯s thrusters, warping it out of shape as the weapon was wedged inside the cybernetic enhancement. A second similar attack followed suit, but the broken shovel wasn¡¯t anywhere nearly as potent. The fox-sized tool left nothing but a light scratch.


    The halfbreed took a deep breath as she pulled another pair of antler blades from her bandolier. Coating both in soarspore poison, she dashed forward, seeking to close the distance while the man-sized avian was still preoccupied with its nose. For a moment, it looked like she was going to succeed. But the sovereign¡¯s defenses weren¡¯t frail enough to be so easily pierced by someone with less than a week¡¯s worth of real combat experience. It spun around at the last second, opening its bill to blast her with a spell at point blank. Claire dove to the right in an attempt to dodge it, but she wasn¡¯t quick enough. The dark projectile struck her in the shoulder, drawing blood as it triggered an electrical surge many times more powerful than the last.


    A pained feral scream erupted from her throat. She was nearly cooked alive. The shadowbolt had used her magical circuitry as a conduit, travelling throughout her frame as it shocked her over and over. Her whole body was damaged. Her hair was burned and frizzled, her fair skin was charred, and her scales were roasted, burnt black as they shriveled and bled. Not even her internals were spared. The contents of her stomach had boiled, with the acidic vapour scorching the insides of her throat.


    She was stunned by the pain, at first, but the rogue clenched her jagged teeth and endured without losing consciousness. The attack had only drained half her health. She would be fine so long as she didn¡¯t take another hit. Or succumb to the fiery agony it caused.


    Wheezing, she flung herself out of the way of the incoming body slam. Two smaller ravens struck her before she could regain her footing, one in her back, and the other across the side of her face. Both were promptly killed, double stabbed so that she could regain a sliver of the health they had taken from her.


    With a deep breath, the rogue rose to her feet, brandished her weapons, and took a defensive stance. Her blades were used to repel anything that drew near. But her eyes were hardly focused on the cannon fodder. The one that stole her focus was the black-feathered ruler. Keeping track of everything at once was so difficult that Claire felt like her head was going to explode, but it was her only choice. She had no allies to rely on. Sylvia had already run for the hills. As much as it irked her, the two had agreed that the vixen would do nothing beyond helping her with the tunnel. It was a win-win situation. The fox would be able to stay out of harm¡¯s way, and the half-snake would get all of the experience. If she managed to survive.


    Her chances didn¡¯t seem great, but the Cadrian had no intention of falling back on her other plan just yet. The rope around the monarch¡¯s feet made it difficult for the bird to hop around, and the attacks she had landed on its thruster had effectively crippled it. It was no longer capable of flying in a straight line without reducing its speed, and her poison provided her with periodic openings, each of which was put to good use. She threw an antler at it each time it flinched, steadily wearing it down with her venom-coated blades.


    But then the bird learned.


    It stopped charging at her. It left that job to its lackeys and opted instead to pelt her with magic from afar. Shadowbolts soared through the air, one after another without pause; it launched over twenty projectiles in the span of a minute, each as deadly as the last.


    Evading them got more difficult as time elapsed. The bird learned to predict her movements and would sporadically switch between firing at where she was and where she was going to be. The flock was getting more difficult to deal with as well. The melee fighters took advantage of the mage¡¯s covering fire to worm their way through her defenses, often charging at her while she was in the midst of evading.


    The trees were her only saving grace. Their trunks were too thick for the purple-black spears to pierce them and Tracking allowed her to keep an eye on the ruler even when she broke line of sight. But at the end of the day, leveraging them served little purpose but to buy time. And stalling was not to her benefit.


    The flock, which started somewhere in the range of a hundred strong, was down to just two dozen. But there were more of them on the horizon, inbound at top speed. Time was on their side. The enemy forces would replenish if they just waited.


    And yet, they refused to back down. They continued to press the attack, even as she slaughtered them. So many ravens fell to her blades that she was able to restore her health to three fourths its maximum value.


    But then it happened.


    One remarkably irritated squawk later, the king suddenly stopped attacking and went dead silent.


    Even though it was supposed to be poisoned.


    Confused, she turned towards it, only to find it in the midst of recovering from self-mutilation. Only the bottom half of its beak remained on its face. The other had been left in a tree, nostrils and all.


    The bird was panting, clearly in pain, but it flapped its wings, puffed up its chest, and croaked what seemed to be an order nonetheless. Once all the other birds were out of its way, it reared its head, opened its mouth, and fired a spell far more powerful than the other two it had revealed so far.


    If the previous attacks were shadowbolts, then the concentrated strike was a shadowbeam, a continuous ray of energy that moved with the corvid¡¯s beak. The distance made the spell nearly impossible to evade. Sweeping its head, the raven blasted through everything in her vicinity. Every mushroom it hit was burnt to a crisp. The trees were able to last a little longer, enduring for a few seconds before being turned into lifeless husks. Claire was barely able to evade the lightning-based attack by leaping up a maple at the last second. When the pillar of dark energy rose to follow her, she dove underneath it, sprinting at full speed towards its caster.


    Beam spells were powerful, but they were also contractual. Like rituals, they spanned a set amount of time based on the amount of magical energy expended. The limitation was a trade-off, a shackle that served to produce a result far greater than what was otherwise deserved of the initial investment. Only expert practitioners could end their beams early. Less skilled mages often had to continue channeling until the spells petered out on their own, lest they were willing to deal with the consequences. Like botched rituals, mishandled beams were prone to backlash. And that was precisely what Claire was after.


    The birds seemed to realize this as well. The remaining peons did their utmost to get in her way. They threw themselves at her with vigour with no regard for their lives. But stop her they could not. She killed those that she could and ignored those that she couldn¡¯t. Their beaks gouged at her, but none of the damage was severe enough to bother her. Not after she had been struck by lightning.


    I should¡¯ve just done this from the start.


    Closing the distance wasn¡¯t something that came without its own set of disadvantages. The magical bird¡¯s aim grew more accurate, nearly catching her on several occasions. It was only thrown off by her projectiles, which it had to destroy to prevent interruption.


    By the time she reached it, she was barehanded, with only two antler blades on her waist and her bone daggers strapped to her thighs.


    It tried to run away from her by taking to the air, but with a bludgeoned thruster and a broken wing, there was only so much it could do. Until its spell suddenly ended.


    Gasping with her eyes wide, Claire barely managed to evade a sudden shadowbolt by rolling forward. The halfbreed pushed herself off the ground feet first and delivered an inverse dropkick straight to the creature¡¯s chest. Her daggers came out shortly after. One was driven into its fleshier eye, while the other shattered its mechanical one. Double stab activated, twice, with both phantom strikes eating away the avian¡¯s already diminishing health.


    The bird batted at her with its wings, but none of its blinded strikes landed. She kept dodging towards its broken shoulder, stabbing at it repeatedly until it was ripped from its socket.


    Spinning around to its rear, Claire mounted the birds back and slashed at its spine. The first attack didn¡¯t do the trick, nor the second or the third. But the fourth did. With a loud thud, the raven¡¯s body collapsed. While its severed head rolled away.

 Chapter 35 - Darkwood Hollow III

    Chapter 35 - Darkwood Hollow III


    Claire was underground. She was lying down with her breath held and her body fully submerged. Her back was touching the soil, mostly because she was unable to swim or even stay afloat. Something about her constitution made it so she would always slowly sink to the bottom of any body of water she entered. It was a bit of an odd trait, considering that lamias were supposed to be semi-aquatic.


    Back when she lived at the manor, she had always thought of the characteristic as an inconvenience. It made entertaining Alice incredibly difficult. The foal was obsessed with the lake in the castle¡¯s courtyard and she would often descend from their home in the clouds just to frolic in it. And Claire had always accompanied her. The two had always been as close as sisters.


    The halfbreed started to say, ¡°I miss her,¡± only to stop as her mouth was suddenly flooded by a torrent of water. Half choking, she climbed up to the burrow¡¯s entrance, refilled her lungs, and descended back into the depths.


    Her location was a function of her predicament. She was in hiding. The rogue had murdered the largest raven, as well as all the others in its immediate vicinity, but there was another flock inbound, and she was far too exhausted to deal with it. The weariness wasn¡¯t physical. If anything, the level up that came with the kill had left her body refreshed and full of energy. Her mind, however, was not. She needed a break. It was already late into the afternoon; she had spent half the day on high alert and the other half in combat.


    Knowing that the ravens would freak out upon discovering the largest bird¡¯s corpse, the half-lamia had stuffed it in a random burrow soon after retrieving any weapons still stuck inside of it. The bloated pigeon¡¯s body didn¡¯t exactly fit in the entrance, but that was a problem easily solved through the application of brute force.


    The halfbreed¡¯s biggest concern about her hiding spot¡ªthe burrow right next to the one the corpse was in¡ªwas that it was filthy. The water wasn¡¯t quite as dirty as the swamp water, but it was still muddy and sad. Air was an issue too, albeit to a lesser degree. She could stay underwater for around two hours at a time if she kept still. And as the hole¡¯s entrance was covered with a pile of leaves, it was unlikely that she would be caught in the act of catching her breath. The only other problem was that she had no idea how long it would take for the ravens to go away. There was no way for her to check without running the risk of exposure.


    With a frown, the halfbreed directed her gaze towards her log. She had actively avoided looking at it ever since she went hunting for antlers. Sorting through the fifty-odd notifications that came with all her frog kills had seemed like a pain at the time, and the extra hundred from all the raven slaying only made the monolithic task even more tedious. But now that she was stuck underground, the halfbreed decided to suck it up and get it over with.


    Scrolling through the list, she skipped over the vast majority of the entries, paying attention only to the ones that caught her eye.


    Log Entry 692


    You have slain a level 27 Llystletein toadempole.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 3 points of agility


    - 2 points of dexterity


    - 5 points of strength


    - 7 points of vitality


    What¡¯s the difference between a frogpole and a toadempole, and why do they live together? Are they just variants of the same species?


    Log Entry 714


    Dancing has reached level 6.


    How did that happen?


    Log Entry 715


    You have unlocked the Club Dancer class.


    Club Dancer...? That sounds promising. Dancing around with a club might even look better than dancing around with a sword.


    Log Entry 825


    You have slain a level 34 Altered Emperaven.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 2 points of agility


    - 1 point of spirit


    - 1 point of strength


    - 1 point of vitality


    - 1 point of wisdom


    The bird wasn¡¯t even a Llystletein variant? Why was it so tough?


    Log Entry 826


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Halfbreed, has reached level 25.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Rogue, has reached level 34.


    And it barely gave any experience, only one level in each class... Nearly all the levels I gained today came from the frogs.


    You have been awarded the following bonuses for reaching Halfbreed¡¯s 25th milestone:


    - A second class slot.


    - The Paralyzing Gaze skill.


    - 10 points in each ability score.


    You have gained 8 ability points.


    A second class slot already? I thought I wasn¡¯t supposed to get one of those until I ascended.


    Claire crossed her arms, closed her eyes, and frowned. It was a bit of a surprise, but not one that was unwelcome or unprecedented. She had heard of similar things happening to other people, and there was no downside to having more power. That said, she didn¡¯t make any immediate decisions. Sylvia had mentioned that touching the hexstone would unlock another class and neither Barbarian nor Hunter came off as particularly appealing. Club Dancer seemed promising, based on its name, but she decided against considering it or examining it in more detail before all her options were on the table.


    I¡¯ll figure out what I do with all these ability points once I pick my class.


    Log Entry 841


    Envenom has reached level 10. A new poison, quicksilver, has been unlocked.


    Isn¡¯t that the stuff they use in all the plays? I wonder if it¡¯s as deadly as they always make it seem. I should find something to test it on¡­


    Setting the thought aside for the time being, the half-half-snake took a quick glance at her newest skill.


    Paralyzing Gaze - Level 1


    Cold and lacking in compassion, you have chosen to label innocent creatures as prey, time and time again. Many you have attacked for the sole purpose of your growth. Your heartlessness is reflected in your gaze, which is capable of triggering flight responses in the faint of heart. This trait is one of many reasons that you are unlikely to ever be wed.


    P.S. Please be aware that violence and retaliation are not always the best ways to display your affection.


    Effects


    - Your glares are more intimidating.


    - It is possible for you to paralyze an entity by staring into its eyes. This ability can be resisted and is less effective in combat.


    - The strength and duration of the paralysis fluctuate with the amount of mana invested. The upper limit is equal to your highest ability score + 11% (10% + 1% per level) of your maximum mana.


    I hate you too, Box.


    ¡°Claire!¡±


    The halfbreed heard a muffled voice right as she began playing with a silver-coated dagger. Turning towards its source, she found her guide, barely visible beneath the murky depths. The faint green glow of a spell was the only reason she could be seen. When did she get here?


    ¡°What are you down here for? There¡¯s a really nice lake like 20 minutes away if you want to take a bath. It¡¯s a lot cleaner, and there¡¯s lots of really tasty fish in it too.¡±


    I¡¯m hiding from the ravens, you idiot.


    Having learned her lesson the first time, Claire kept her mouth shut and flapped her arms like a bird.


    ¡°Oh, right... You can¡¯t talk yet.¡± The fox giggled as she stood up on her hind legs and pressed her paws against one of Claire¡¯s arms. ¡°One sec.¡± With everything in place, she hummed a quick note, accompanied by a surge of magic.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    A strange sensation came over the blueblood as her companion¡¯s aura grew to envelop her. The stimulus was reminiscent of the one the vixen had used to take her underwater the first time, but it wasn¡¯t exactly the same. As Claire was already submerged, she didn¡¯t suddenly start shivering, nor did she feel the urge to scratch her eyes. Instead, she experienced the anomaly that was her body drying off in the blink of an eye. Her hair, her skin, and her clothes all went from wet to dry without so much as a moment¡¯s pause.


    ¡°There, you should be able to talk now. Oh, and I dried you off too since I thought it¡¯d be nice. I really hate it when my fur gets all wet, and I¡¯ll even start to smell if I don¡¯t get all the water out before it starts getting nasty.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m hiding from the ravens.¡±


    ¡°Well, I guessed that much, but they¡¯re gone already. And why didn¡¯t you just use the tunnel we made before the fight? That one isn¡¯t anywhere near as wet and muddy.¡±


    Oops.


    Claire averted her eyes. ¡°No reason.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure there has to be some sort of reason. Did you need to pee?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± The fox raised her brow. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen you go in like forever!¡±


    ¡°None of your business.¡±


    ¡°Well, ummm, anyway, the steelwings are already gone. I think they¡¯re looking for the big guy because they stuck around for a little bit before leaving,¡± said the fox, her tail wagging. ¡°Oh, and I can¡¯t believe you took down their boss that easily! How did you know you weren¡¯t supposed to hit it with magic?¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°It was a warlock, so it¡¯s great at draining the mana out of your magic and throwing it right back at you. Wait, you didn¡¯t know? Then why were you just hitting it?¡±


    ¡°Because I wanted to,¡± said the rogue. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me anything earlier?¡±


    ¡°Well, it wouldn¡¯t really be much of a trial if I did, would it? Isn¡¯t that why you¡¯re here?¡±


    ¡°No. It¡¯s not.¡± Claire sharpened her gaze.


    ¡°Oh¡­ Well anyway, you can go use the hexstone now, if you¡¯d like. It¡¯s a good chance since everyone else is still gone.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t hide things from me next time.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay, I won¡¯t, even if it seems kinda fu¡ª¡± Sylvia covered her mouth with her paws. ¡°Erm, I mean, I promise I won¡¯t, and I swear I wasn¡¯t up to no good, so please stop glaring at me!¡±


    Claire frowned. ¡°It didn¡¯t work.¡±


    ¡°Huh? What are you talking about? Sure I get scared really easily, but you¡¯re not spooking me, Claire. I know you¡¯re totally harmless!¡±


    ¡°I was testing a skill on you.¡±


    ¡°W-wait, I thought you were harmless! W-why the heck would you do that!?¡± shouted the fox. She waved her paws around angrily with her ears folded forward and her tail straight up in the air.


    I guess 25 mana didn¡¯t cut it¡­ Let¡¯s try 250.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t test skills on people without their permission! In fact, you shouldn¡¯t be testing skills on people at al¡ª¡±


    ¡°It worked,¡± said the half-snake. Her eyes were glowing with a piercing blue light, evidence of her guilt.


    Observing the frozen fox from several different angles, Claire nodded in satisfaction. Sylvia had been totally robbed of her ability to move. She didn¡¯t react or resist when the rogue fiddled with her paws, pulled on her tongue, or played with her tail.


    ¡°Claire!¡± Only after a few seconds did the fox finally respond. ¡°What the heck! I just told you not to test things on me! Do you know how weird that was!? I could still see and feel, but I couldn¡¯t move no matter how hard I tried. It was like I was having a really weird nightmare!¡±


    ¡°You deserved it,¡± said Claire. ¡°Be glad I¡¯m saving the quicksilver for a raven.¡±


    ¡°Would it kill you to be a tiny bit nicer to me? Why do you have to be such a grouch? Not even Grant is as mean as you are, and he¡¯s the biggest jerk around.¡±


    Ignoring the vixen, the bluescale crawled up through the burrow¡¯s entrance. After confirming that there were no ravens around, she walked over to the clearing¡¯s rune-covered centerpiece and placed a hand on it.


    But nothing happened.


    That¡¯s weird¡­ Claire frowned as she reflected on her previous experience. Maybe I have to touch it with my forehead? ...Nope, that wasn¡¯t it either.


    Log Entry 847


    Detect Force Magic has reached level 7.


    What if I just headbutted it?


    She didn¡¯t know exactly where the idea had come from, but for reasons beyond her comprehension, it just felt right.


    So she did it. She reared her head, braced for impact, and bashed her skull against the monolith.


    The impact was dizzying. Claire¡¯s eyes were spinning, and a loud ringing filled her ears. The damage hadn¡¯t been all that severe, but she felt like she was on the verge of passing out.


    ¡°Hah! I can¡¯t believe you actually went ahead and did that,¡± said a familiar deep voice. Its chortling only served to amplify her pain and annoyance. ¡°Hilarious, absolutely hilarious! I knew you would be one of the fun ones.¡±


    Though still reeling, the halfbreed forced herself to focus as she faced the librarian head on. Her demeanor changed. Her legs and back were straight, and she kept one hand at her side while she wrapped the other around her waist. Likewise, her expression also tensed. A calm but cold poker face.


    ¡°Oh, relax already. I gave you great advice last time, didn¡¯t I? It isn¡¯t my fault you didn¡¯t listen.¡± The human took a drag from his pipe, a cheeky grin on his face. ¡°Now, I¡¯ve got deadlines to meet, so why don¡¯t we get down to business?¡±


    He raised his ancient wand and tapped one of the many documents lying around on his desk. Like the first, it was an old piece of parchment, a dark yellow sheepskin whose colour verged on brown. The ink on it was faded, barely legible¡ªnot that she would have been able to read it, even if it was more clear. Despite its apparent age, the record was well preserved. Its edges were as unfrayed as they were on the date of its creation.


    Log Entry 848


    You have read The Lost Library¡¯s Second Chapter. It has been transcribed into your native language as the following log entry.


    Log Entry 849


    Hello, trial goer, and congratulations on finding a second set of instructions. The path to the Grand Cathedral is thorny and necessitates the risk of death, but that does not mean it is unreasonable. You may very well benefit from seeking the aid of others, but do not rely upon it. Never forget that you are to them as they are to you, another competitor and source of experience.


    Comprehending the contents of this message will grant the following boons:


    - Access to two new classes. In your particular case, a librarian has decided that these will be Llystletein Force Mage and Llystletein Bloodzerker.


    - Access to a second class slot, if it is not already available.


    - A brief but substantial audience with the Head Librarian, during which you will be assigned a task to complete for an additional bonus.


    Two classes? That¡¯s not bad¡­


    ¡°Before you ask me any questions, I¡¯d just like to mention that I took great joy in what you did to the huskar.¡± Eyes twinkling, the human set down his pipe and took a sip from a wooden mug covered in vines and flowers. ¡°Admittedly, I was a little disappointed that you didn¡¯t finish him off. I¡¯d appreciate it if you could slit his throat the next time. That incorrigible leech deserves every bit of punishment that comes his way.¡±


    ¡°Is that supposed to be my task?¡±


    The wizard leaned forward and propped his chin up with a fist.


    ¡°I would have liked that, but he¡¯s ready for you, and you¡¯re not ready for him,¡± he said, as he flicked his wand. ¡°But I will offer you a reward, on the off chance you manage to catch him unawares again.¡±


    Log Entry 850


    You have received a quest - Kill Archibald Ravensworn.


    Primary Objective: Archibald Ravensworn is slain


    Deadline: N/A


    This quest¡¯s reward will be determined at the time of the completion. Its value will depend on the satisfaction the Head Librarian derives from the target¡¯s death.


    ¡°As for your actual task¡­ Let¡¯s go with something a little more achievable, shall we?¡±


    Log Entry 851


    You have received a quest - Destroy Borrok Peak.


    Primary Objectives:


    - The borrok lifegiver is slain


    - The borrok sentinel is slain


    Bonus Objectives:


    - Marleena Morgan survives


    - Carter Grassrunner survives


    - Borrok Peak is vandalized beyond recognition


    - Beckard Links does not attempt to speak to you


    Deadline: 170 hours


    This quest¡¯s reward is 50 points in each ability score, with an added bonus of 5 additional points per bonus objective completed. Failing to complete this quest before the deadline will result in the forfeiture of its reward.


    ¡°Yes, that should do. The borroks have just finished repopulating. It should be time to trim them down so that they don¡¯t get out of hand.¡± The man nodded to himself as he popped his pipe back into his mouth. ¡°Now¡­ any questions?¡±


    __


    Claire


    Health: 304/304


    Mana: 750/750


    Health Regen: 68/hour


    Mana Regen: 388/hour


    Ability Scores - 48 Points Available


    - Agility: 115


    - Dexterity: 127


    - Spirit: 75


    - Strength: 117


    - Vitality: 68


    - Wisdom: 194


    Racial Class: Halfbreed - Level 25.19


    - Lashing Tailstrike - Level 1.00


    - Paralyzing Gaze - Level 1.40


    - Quadrupedal Bloodrush - Level 1.01


    Primary Class: Llystletein Rogue - Level 34.65


    - Assassinate - Level 6.40


    - Bloodthief - Level 3.14


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 6.66


    - Double Stab - Level 8.16


    - Envenom - Level 10.97


    - Manathief - Level 1.00


    Secondary Class: Unselected


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 1.00


    - Club Mastery - Level 9.39


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 7.82


    - Dancing - Level 6.02


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 7.79


    - Digging - Level 10.27


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 3.97


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 9.62


    - Marish - Level 19.02


    - Sneaking - Level 9.83


    - Spear Mastery - Level 3.82


    - Sword Mastery - Level 6.45


    - Throwing - Level 4.80


    - Tracking - Level 8.37


    - Unarmed Combat Mastery - Level 5.16

 Chapter 36 - Darkwood Hollow IV

    Chapter 36 - Darkwood Hollow IV


    ¡°How many are you going to answer this time?¡± Claire crossed her arms as she eyed the ancient human.


    ¡°Including that? One.¡± The old man shooed her away. ¡°Now get going and don¡¯t come back until you¡¯ve found the third chapter.¡±


    The halfbreed rolled her eyes and stood her ground. ¡°I¡¯m not falling for it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± Propping his face up with a fist, the wizard heaved a sigh. ¡°Why is it that you fall for the fox¡¯s tricks, but not mine? She barely knows how to lie.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said Claire, with a faint smile. ¡°Now answer the question.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± The celestial sighed. ¡°You can ask as many as you¡¯d like in the next five or so minutes. I don¡¯t know exactly when I¡¯ll have to get back to work, but I doubt it¡¯ll be any longer than that.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Claire took a moment to collect her thoughts. ¡°I¡¯ll start with the harder ones then.¡±


    ¡°Whatever you¡¯d like, child.¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°Why did a raven die after I killed my first Llystletein veaber?¡± She scanned the room as she spoke, focusing on the books and their titles. ¡°And where did all the other random raven kills come from?¡±


    ¡°Random raven kills?¡±


    He flicked his wand and caused a panel to appear right beneath Claire¡¯s nose. Her log. With another brief gesture, he pulled the pixelated box towards him and began scrolling through it. His eyes darted rapidly, moving from right to left and back.


    ¡°Oh my. I see you are quite disliked,¡± he said, with a chuckle. ¡°I¡¯ve hardly ever seen a set of entries this snarky. Which deity do you have as your patron, and how did you earn their ire?¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s supposed to be Builledracht, but I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s even him, or why he hates me if it is,¡± she said. ¡°Wait, how are you doing that? I thought you weren¡¯t supposed to be able to read other people¡¯s logs.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a Celestial, child. This is as easy a parlour trick as any,¡± he said. ¡°Ah, yes. That¡¯s right. I never did introduce myself. The name is Alfred, Alfred Llarsse, Celestial Progenitor, as I¡¯m sure you can tell from my appearance. I¡¯m the head librarian here, as well as the creator and manager of all things related to catgirls.¡±


    Claire blinked, slowly, as she took a lungful of fresh air, or at least she went through the motions. Breathing without a body was difficult to say the least. ¡°I don¡¯t think I heard that right,¡± she said, quietly. The rogue could already feel a second headache inbound.


    ¡°Oh trust me, you did.¡± The old man grinned from ear to ear as he took a drag from his pipe. ¡°I made catgirls. I¡¯m in charge of managing them as well as every other race that ever branches from them. It¡¯s quite the privilege.¡±


    Claire remained silent. Maintaining her poker face took everything she had.


    ¡°Oh, and no need to introduce yourself. I already know who and what you are,¡± said Alfred, his eyes still focused on her log. ¡°Now where was I¡­? Ah, that¡¯s right. You said your patron was Builledracht? That doesn¡¯t seem quite right. He isn¡¯t one to be petty, or at least this petty. I¡¯d say it¡¯s much more likely to be one of the Goddesses, maybe Griselda or Primrose. Both of them have¡­ issues, to say the least.¡±


    ¡°Can you just tell me about the ravens already?¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, of course.¡±


    The old man leaned forward, muttering under his breath as he fiddled with his wand. Blue screens popped up and closed, one after another. Not all of them were in the same language, but each was filled to the brim with text.


    ¡°According to the system, you starved a group of nestlings to death,¡± he said, after a moment of silence. ¡°The timing was entirely coincidental.¡±


    ¡°Nestlings? What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°Baby birds.¡±


    ¡°What baby birds?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t remember them? It says here that you killed their mother and left them to starve.¡±


    Claire blinked several times as she stood in place. Oh... Those baby birds.


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember that,¡± lied the halfbreed.


    ¡°You tried to feed them their mother¡¯s flesh and they pecked you.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t the slightest clue what you¡¯re talking about. I¡¯d never do anything that awful.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t feel too terribly about it. They likely wouldn¡¯t have survived to adulthood,¡± said the mage. ¡°Most of them happen to die of¡­ nocturnal emissions.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard the knights mention those. I didn¡¯t know they could be lethal.¡±


    ¡°The ravens don¡¯t develop the ability to control their thrusters until the later stages of their adolescence, but their engines are fully mature by their first fledge.¡±


    ¡°So they would¡¯ve run into things and died, even if I didn¡¯t kill them?¡±


    ¡°Essentially, yes.¡±


    ¡°Then maybe I should¡¯ve just put them out of their misery.¡±


    ¡°Yes, do that next time. You should be killing any ravens you happen to spot on sight. Altered creatures do not belong in Llystletein. Nor do their makers.¡±


    ¡°Is that another task?¡±


    Alfred frowned, tapping his nose several times with his wand before replying. ¡°No, that would be a waste of time and hardly enough of a challenge to merit a reward. You¡¯ve already killed the only one that could possibly pose a threat.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a shame,¡± said Claire, who may or may not have intended on murdering any raven she came across anyway. ¡°Why do I need to make sure people don¡¯t die?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll likely benefit from their survival, if things go the way that I expect them to,¡± he said, with a chuckle. ¡°Admittedly, it isn¡¯t everyday that things go all according to plan, but it happens often enough.¡±


    ¡°And what, exactly, is this plan of yours?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s for me to know and you to find out,¡± he said with a smile.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°What does force magic do?¡±


    ¡°Now that is a much more fun question.¡± The man adjusted his hat as he leaned forward. ¡°Force magic is the most entertaining sort of magic there is. At its core, it lets you manipulate objects, like so.¡±


    With a wave of his wand, the various items and utensils on his desk folded themselves up into different objects. Some became fences and tents while others turned into various exotic animals. A second motion, made in the opposite direction, undid everything. The elephants and giraffes turned back into pieces of parchment without a moment¡¯s delay while the tigers and pandas unfurled themselves into fountain pens and bottles of ink.


    ¡°There are more complicated applications, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve already construed from both your summonings and the anomaly that is Mirewood Marsh as a whole, but manipulation is the gist of it,¡± he explained. ¡°As much as I like it, I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d recommend it to you. You¡¯ll need to develop some degree of prudence and sensibility to draw out its potential.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m very sensible.¡±


    ¡°You almost always fall for the sunk cost fallacy, and you are one of the rashest trial goers I¡¯ve ever se¡ª¡±


    ¡°I am a well educated, high-ranking noble lady,¡± huffed Claire, cutting him off. ¡°I¡¯m incredibly sophisticated, perfectly sensible, and certainly not guilty of murdering a group of nestlings.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ think we are out of time. Why don¡¯t we continue this conversation when you find the third chapter?¡± Not bothering to wait for a reply, the mage poofed her away and set down his wand. ¡°Mortals, mortals. Always so vain,¡± he said, with a chuckle. ¡°Not that we are any different.¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ___


    Claire shook her head clear of the odd sensation of getting put back in her body as she lifted her forehead off of the runic stone. Looking around, she confirmed that nothing had changed in the time she had spent away from her flesh. Her hair was still a mess, her cloak was still on the verge of becoming unusable, and her feet were still covered in muddy pawprints.


    Wait a second¡­ Muddy pawprints?


    The rogue patted herself down to check if anything was amiss as soon as she realized that they ran up the back of her legs. Nothing seemed off at a glance, besides the fact that someone had stepped all over her, of course.


    ¡°Sylvia?¡± She called for the most likely culprit as she continued to confirm the state of her body.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re finally done!¡± The fox¡¯s muffled voice, which was accompanied by a yawn, came from above. ¡°Geez, Claire, what the heck were you two going on about? That took forever.¡±


    The orange fuzzball was curled up on top of the rock. Her head was still on top of her fluffy tail and her eyes were still shut. She didn¡¯t even raise her head to speak.


    ¡°It was just a few minutes.¡±


    ¡°A few minutes? That was at least an hour! Though I don¡¯t think you started mumbling until about a few minutes ago, so maybe it¡¯s because you knocked yourself out¡­ Why did you do that anyway? You know you just have to touch it, right?¡±


    Claire turned her head away. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± she muttered. She turned her head away at first, but then snapped it back to its original position while shooting the fox a glare. ¡°What did you do to me?¡±


    ¡°Huh? What are you talking about? I didn¡¯t do anything,¡± yawned Sylvia.


    ¡°Don¡¯t lie.¡± The rogue raised her cloak and pointed at the pawprints that ran up its length.


    ¡°Oh¡­ that.¡± Sylvia pressed her front paws to her face to stifle a giggle.


    ¡°Well?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a secret! You¡¯ll just have to figure it out yourself,¡± she said, as she wiped several prints off the rock with her tail. ¡°So who did you talk to, and what are they making you do?¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re not answering my question then I¡¯m not answering yours.¡± Claire sat down, leaning her back against the stone as she pulled up a familiar blue box.


    ¡°Aww, come on. I¡¯m just trying to help!.¡±


    ¡°Help later. I have to concentrate,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°On what? There aren''t any birds around, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about. Darkwood Hollow¡¯s finally back to being perfectly safe.¡±


    ¡°Another class.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ right. Well, shout at me when you¡¯re done, I guess,¡± said the fox with another yawn. ¡°I¡¯m gonna take another nap.¡±


    Nodding once, Claire pulled up all five options and eyed each in turn. The first two she considered were hunter and barbarian. Both were likely to mutate into more powerful Llystletein variants, if given enough time, but she wasn¡¯t keen on experimenting for the same reasons that she hadn¡¯t chosen either of them to begin with.


    I can¡¯t be a Hunter without a bow and I¡¯m not going to be a Barbarian.


    Focusing on each of the newer classes in turn, she brought up their descriptions and carefully read over them.


    Club Dancer


    To dance with a club is to merge the concepts of beauty and beast. Club Dancers are equal parts brutal and elegant, vicious and graceful, crude and refined. They whirl about with rhythmic, defined steps, but they know not of music. The metronomes that guide their tempos are the bloodcurdling screams of their foes. This class is recommended for individuals who are quick on their feet, despite otherwise struggling with simple tasks.


    Every Club Dancer level provides a small bonus to your agility, dexterity, and strength scores.


    Possible Class Upgrades include Whirling Dervish, Crimson Songstress, and Ravenous Thespian.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Dancing level 5 or higher


    - Club mastery level 5 or higher


    - Leave an impression of elegance whilst attacking a foe with a club


    P.S. Clubs are not more graceful than swords.


    Shut up, Box. You¡¯re just uncultured.


    Llystletein Force Mage


    Force Mages are known for bickering with one another as to the true nature of their mysterious magic. These stubborn sorcerers agree only on a single axiom: physically touching an object to be manipulated is a chore reserved for the unenlightened. They are pretentious and arrogant, but rightfully so. If there is one thing Force Mages possess, it is enough power to flaunt. This is even truer of those that have studied the Llystletein path. Llystletein Force Mages are capable of interacting with Spirit Guardians and affecting their own bodies with their spells, but they also tend to suffer from underlying psychological afflictions. Hardheaded individuals with revolting narcissistic tendencies are well suited to this class.


    Becoming a Llystletein Force Mage doubles all Force Mage-based ability score boosts and provides an immediate bonus to spirit and wisdom. Every 10 Llystletein Force Mage levels will provide an additional bonus to all ability scores. Llystletein Force Mages will also gain additional bonuses on the 25th and 50th levels.


    Possible class upgrades include Llystletein Psychic, Llystletein Vector Mage, and Flatulent Librarian, amongst others.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following conditions:


    - Unlock the Force Mage class


    - Flaunting your superiority over another individual of supposedly equal or superior status


    - Single-handedly dispatch a Llystletein monster with an ability score total at least 2 times greater than your own


    - Acquire the Lost Library¡¯s Second Chapter while in possession of an active Llystletein class.


    This sounds¡­ appealing.


    Llystletein Bloodzerker


    Bloodzerkers are mindless brutes that have surrendered their ability to reason for a drastic improvement in their survival instincts, and it is likely for this reason that they are incapable of spelling berserker with an ¡°s.¡± Bloodzerkers achieve such mastery over their bodies that they are capable of transforming their flesh and bone into weaponry. Llystletein Bloodzerkers take this concept a step further. Their knowledge of hemomancy provides the opportunity to forge blades of ichor, regardless of its source. Masochistic individuals that suffer from the inability to empathize tend to prefer this class.


    Becoming a Llystletein Bloodzerker doubles all Bloodzerker-based ability score boosts and provides an immediate bonus to your agility, strength, and wisdom. Every other Llystletein Bloodzerker level will provide an additional bonus to agility. Llystletein Bloodzerkers will also gain additional bonuses on the 25th and 50th levels.


    Possible class upgrades include Llystletein Goredrinker, Akashic Skullrattler, and Stolid Librarian, amongst others.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following conditions:


    - Unlock the Bloodzerker class


    - Slay an enemy from the inside out and consume its flesh


    - Single-handedly dispatch a Llystletein monster with an ability score total at least 2 times greater than your own


    - Acquire the Lost Library¡¯s Second Chapter while in possession of an active Llystletein class.


    Making weapons out of blood? That seems useful.


    Claire crossed and uncrossed her legs several times as she weighed her options. Club Dancer and Llystletein Bloodzerker were somewhat similar, in that they would both bolster her ability to fight in close quarters. The difference appeared to be that one would make her better with her most outstanding weapon while the other would make it possible for her to acquire new weapons on the fly.


    My club has been pretty reliable, but there¡¯s no knowing when it¡¯ll break. The antlers seemed pretty dependable too, until I stabbed a few too many birds.


    Of the two warrior-like classes, Bloodzerker was the clear winner, but that didn¡¯t make picking between it and Force Mage any less difficult. They both seem pretty good...


    Wait, didn¡¯t the old jerk say that I wouldn¡¯t make a good force mage?


    Recalling his praise, Claire immediately locked in her choice.


    Log Entry 852


    You have become a Llystletein Force Mage.


    Your spirit has been increased by 20. Your wisdom has been increased by 40.


    Force Mage-related achievements have been unlocked.


    The following Llystletein Force Mage skills have been acquired:


    - Basic Force Manipulation


    - Basic Force Resistance


    Log Entry 853


    Detect Force Magic has been reclassified as a Llystletein Force Mage skill. This reclassification has earned you a proficiency bonus.


    Log Entry 854


    Detect Force Magic has reached level 10.


    Aren''t mage classes supposed to be more complicated than all the others? Why are there so few skills?


    Basic Force Manipulation - Level 1


    Toying with vectors is something that comes naturally to most Force Mages. You, however, suffer from the inability to understand basic geometry. This will not prevent you from casting spells, nor will it necessarily lower their effectiveness, but it will earn you the ire of those who acquire their magic through the accumulation of knowledge.


    Effects


    - You are capable of applying a force to any object within 10.5m (10m + 0.5m per level).


    - The maximum output of your force magic is increased by 5% (0% + 5% per level) of the sum of your strength and wisdom, expressed as a percentage.


    Spells


    - Apply Force I


    - Summon Spirit Guardian


    Apply Force? I guess that¡¯s a basic force spell?


    Apply Force I


    Spend 10MP to push or pull an object of your choosing.


    Looks like it. What¡¯s the other one?


    Summon Spirit Guardian


    Spend 1000MP to summon your spirit guardian.


    Thanks Box, I never would¡¯ve guessed. Claire rolled her eyes. I¡¯ll just have to experiment.


    Basic Force Resistance - Level 1


    To become a sorcerer is to gain an intuitive understanding of one¡¯s own nature. Reflecting upon your vanity, lack of empathy, and sheer stupidity may eventually lead you to confront the idea that your life was not worth all those you sacrificed to keep it, but fear not. This knowledge will, at the very least, aid you in defending against your ilk.


    Effects


    - The damage that you take from force magic is reduced by 11% (10% + 1% per level.)


    I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about, Box. My life is much more important than anyone else¡¯s. And I¡¯m not stupid.


    Log Entry 855


    You have received a divine revelation:


    If you were any more intelligent, then you would have poisoned more of the caveveabers¡¯ supplies during your escape. Your lack of foresight has led you to miss out on enough experience to force an ascension.


    ¡­Shut up. Go away.


    Closing her log, Claire decided the previous day had clearly never happened. Clearly.

 Chapter 37 - Darkwood Hollow V

    Chapter 37 - Darkwood Hollow V


    ¡°It¡¯s barely moving...¡±


    Claire groaned as she once again failed to manipulate the tiny pebble sitting two feet in front of her. It would budge each time she magically pushed or pulled it, but that was all it ever did. Not once had it moved a significant distance, no matter how hard she focused.


    ¡°This is useless,¡± she mumbled, as she gave it another try. ¡°I can¡¯t tell if it¡¯s my fault or if the spell just sucks.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s useless?¡±


    Sylvia dropped down from her perch atop the mossy runic rock, landing first on Claire¡¯s head before leaping to the forest floor. She was looking much more energetic than she was earlier. Her ears were perked up and her big puffy tail was swishing back and forth.


    ¡°Nothing.¡± Claire uncrossed her arms. Wait, I¡¯ve got an idea.


    Smirking, the serpentine halfbreed silently cast a spell, creating a full power wave of force as she moved to press her palm against her four-legged companion¡¯s nose. A harmless prank. Or at least that was what she thought until Sylvia was suddenly displaced. The fox started screaming and flailing the moment she took off. Catapulted into the forest, she soon vanished behind a two meter tall mushroom.


    Claire slowly blinked several times in succession. Once over her initial surprise, she began looking between her fingers and the shroom Sylvia had passed. Was not using my hands the problem?


    She followed through on the thought by focusing on the pebble and curling her fingers inwards as she cast the spell. Surely enough, it worked. The tiny rock floated towards her, stopping just shy of her fully clenched fist before losing all momentum and plummeting back towards the ground.


    Flicking her hand forward caused it to react again. The rounded stone flew straight into a large brown mushroom, boring a hole right through its soft flesh.


    ¡°Ow!¡± cried the critter standing behind the toadstool.


    ¡°Oops.¡±


    ¡°Is that really all you have to say, after putting me through all that!?¡± Sylvia complained as she walked back into the clearing. She was moving around on just her hind legs with her frontal paws held against her forehead. ¡°I told you to stop testing your skills on me!¡±


    ¡°It was an accident,¡± said Claire, as she magnetted a tree branch straight into her palm. ¡°Did it hurt?¡±


    ¡°Ummm, well the rock kinda did, but the spell didn¡¯t. I was kinda panicked because it was really sudden, but it just felt like you were lightly pushing me really fast,¡± she said, as she rubbed her head. ¡°Wait a second! You really were just testing the spell on me, weren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    Claire reeled in a second branch with her free hand as she pushed and pulled on the first at random. Both instances of the spell seemed to work just fine regardless of whether the two objects were moving in the same direction.


    ¡°You know, I¡¯m really surprised you decided to become a force mage. It¡¯s a pretty weird class and it¡¯s kinda hard to use since you still need to use weapons and stuff.¡±


    ¡°Weren¡¯t you the one that told me about it?¡±


    The two-legged snake put one hand behind her back and tried manipulating both objects with just the palm still held in front of her. It didn¡¯t quite seem to work, but it wasn¡¯t because they were too heavy. There was a clear correlation between a target¡¯s mass and how quickly she could move it around, but weight was not the reason the spell was failing. Sylvia was heavier than both branches combined.


    ¡°Yeah, but that doesn¡¯t mean I was actually expecting you to pick it! Almost nobody does since it doesn¡¯t go well with most other pure mage classes.¡±


    ¡°Well I did.¡±


    Size seemed to be even less of a factor than weight. The club was much more difficult to control than a branch that was just as thick and twice as long. At the end of the day, the limiting factor seemed to be that she could only control one thing with each hand, regardless of whether that thing was an antler, a leaf, or a fox.


    Log Entry 856


    Basic Force Manipulation has reached level 2.


    ¡°Oh are you going to switch sides when it turns? It¡¯s gonna happen really soon, and I think we should probably stay on the same side.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try not to,¡± said Claire, as she eyed her resistance skill, ¡°but I don¡¯t know if I can.¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ I think it should be pretty easy, so I¡¯ll just stay on this side for now,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°The forest is a lot more comfy. There¡¯s way too much water in the marsh and I have to use up all my mana if I want to stay dry. The swampy fish don¡¯t really taste good either. The ones in the lake are much better. Oh, do you like fish, Claire? We can go catch some later.¡±


    ¡°Better than frog,¡± said the half-snake. ¡°When?¡±


    ¡°We can go fishing whenever you want. Actually, let¡¯s go right now!¡± Sylvia raised her rear and waved her tail to and fro before she started bouncing around excitedly.


    ¡°Not fishing. I meant the other thing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, the whisper? Ummm¡­ I¡¯m not sure exactly, but it should be soon, really really soon. My fur¡¯s already really really tingly.¡±


    Does that mean I should be able to sense it?


    Claire closed her eyes and directed her attention outwards. She focused on Detect Force Magic whilst probing her environment with her mana. But she didn¡¯t find anything. Nothing stood out to her until the moment the bell suddenly started ringing, at which point she was thrown into a torrential flood. It started weak and quickly grew stronger, just like it had when the halfbreed had first experienced it, but this time, Claire didn¡¯t suddenly collapse once it reached its peak strength.


    Because it wasn¡¯t nearly as potent.


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    The excessive clattering was still obnoxious, but it didn¡¯t feel like her head was being split apart, at least not anymore.


    Picking force mage is already paying off.


    Taking a deep breath, she pushed past her migraine and focused on the spell that was its source. There were several different sensations affecting her. Some were physical, like the two forces pulling her up and down, while others were magical, like the one that was prodding at her brain.


    She wasn¡¯t sure what to make of any of them, so she spent the first minute or so silently observing. The upside down force slowly grew more powerful while the one keeping her grounded waned. Measuring them was still outside the realm of her capabilities. She wasn¡¯t able to pin any values to the vague sensations, but she could tell that the stronger one would soon be overtaken if she continued to do nothing.


    ¡°How am I supposed to stop it from flipping me?¡±


    The question served as a trigger. The bell rapidly quieted down, vanishing alongside all the other sensations that accompanied it. The only one she could still feel was the one keeping her grounded, and even that disappeared as soon as her focus began to wane.


    Log Entry 857


    Basic Force Resistance has reached level 2.


    Is that it? That was¡­ anticlimactic.


    Claire blinked a few times, raising her ears to confirm that the knell had really gone away before turning to her fuzzy companion.


    ¡°I think I did it.¡±


    ¡°See? What did I tell you? It¡¯s really easy. All you had to do was answer when it asked you if you wanted to swap, right?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly,¡± said Claire, as she got to her feet. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°Huh? We¡¯re leaving already? Are you already done testing all your stuff?¡±


    ¡°For now,¡± said the rogue, as she eyed her MP. She had only played around for about ten or so minutes, but there was only a quarter of it remaining. I¡¯m going to have to be more careful with my mana.


    ¡°That was quick. Well, up to you I guess. Where do you want to go now? Is it the Citadel? Or maybe the lake so we can go fishing?¡±


    ¡°The burrow.¡±


    ¡°You mean the one we slept in last night?¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Oh... really? That¡¯s kinda weird, but okay. I think we should be able to get back pretty quickly. Why do you need to go back anyway? It¡¯s still gonna be light out for a long time, and if you sleep now, then you¡¯re just going to wake up in the middle of the night.¡±


    ¡°I need a new cloak.¡± The bluescale stuck her fingers through a few of the countless holes riddling the tattered garment as she lifted it. ¡°This one¡¯s done for.¡±


    ¡°It does seem kinda messed up, but are you really sure you wanna go back? Isn¡¯t the third trial supposed to have a time limit?¡±


    ¡°Third?¡±


    ¡°Errmmm, you didn¡¯t hear that! I didn¡¯t say anything!¡± The fox darted behind a tree.


    If the task is the third, then what were the first two? Maybe killing the hellhog and the bird? Wait, if it¡¯s killing things, then what about the mimic and the shaman? Or what if it was something else altogether, like touching the first two rocks?


    ¡°Come on, Claire! Hurry up! I¡¯m going to leave you behind if you don¡¯t get moving!¡±


    One annoyed sigh later, the half lamia climbed into a tree and chased after her four legged companion.


    ___


    Claire spent the trip deliberating the use of her ability points. She had 48 to spend, but no idea as to how she was supposed to allocate them. More wisdom was going to be necessary if she wanted to be able to summon her spirit guardian, whatever it was, but she also wanted to continue investing in vitality. It and spirit were the only two scores she still had under a hundred.


    She knew that she would be able to drastically boost her health if she managed to get the stat past the three digit threshold, but throwing all her points into her life force would prevent her from acquiring the mana she needed to test her newest toy. A solution didn¡¯t come to mind regardless of how much time she spent weighing the two options. She was still just as conflicted by the time they reached their destination.


    For the most part, the return trip had been uneventful. Not a single raven was spotted throughout, which was to say that Sylvia spent nearly the entire journey blabbering away. The conversation wasn¡¯t entirely one-sided, as Claire would respond when prompted, but it was safe to say that the fox had done over four fifths of the talking.


    ¡°We¡¯re here!¡± said Sylvia, as she passed a familiar uprooted stump. ¡°It should be right under that bramblewood tree.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll wait here. All you need to do is grab some of your stuff, then we can start heading over to Borrok Peak, right?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire, as she moved towards the den¡¯s entrance. ¡°None of my other cloaks fit me. I need some time to tailor them.¡±


    ¡°None of them fit you? Did you lose a lot of weight or something when you started leveling up? I guess that does happen sometimes. Oh well, whatever,¡± said the fox. ¡°How long is it going to take? There¡¯s some stuff I want to do, but I¡¯m not sure if I have enough time since you¡¯re probably going to want me back whenever you¡¯re ready to go again.¡±


    ¡°A long time. I¡¯m tired and I want to sleep.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ so does that mean we¡¯re not going anywhere until tomorrow morning?¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Okay, then I guess I¡¯ll go do my fox stuff now. I should be back by sundown!¡±


    ¡°Bye.¡±


    ¡°See ya! Don¡¯t step out and get lost!¡±


    Standing up on her hind legs, the fox vigorously waved one of her forelimbs before turning around and vanishing into the foliage.


    She¡¯s finally gone.


    Claire heaved a sigh as she descended into the burrow. It wasn¡¯t as if she disliked the fox, but the four-legged critter had far too much energy.


    The underground lair was still exactly how she had left it; her bag sat in one of its corners while a pile of dirt, branches, and goodies occupied another. Casting her gaze on the supposed storage unit left her with an itch in the back of her mind. She was curious as to what a fox¡¯s belongings were supposed to entail, but she didn¡¯t bother investigating. There were too many things for her to do, and looking through the canid¡¯s things was far from the most important thing on the list.


    Grabbing the bag, the rogue laid its contents out on the floor. All in all, there were seven cloaks, two pairs of pants, a shirt, and a tailor¡¯s kit. Sewing tools aside, most of the garments were made of cloth. That was precisely why the only leather mantle caught her eye almost immediately.


    Like everything else, it was meant for its rightful owner, someone twice her size. Putting it on revealed that a whole third of its length draped behind her. The shawl¡¯s width was equally as problematic. She would slip right out of it lest she put on the hood, regardless of whether the fastener was in place. The halfbreed was going to need to make several major adjustments before she could wear the undeserved acquisition.


    This needs some ear holes. It¡¯s too tight.


    Grabbing the scissors, she made an incision in the side of the hood, only to find her efforts completely and utterly futile. The mantle started to shine as soon as she cut into it. It was enveloped by a faint blue light, one that originated from the countless once-invisible runes running along its edges. When the glow faded, a few moments later, the cut she made was gone, fully restored by the object¡¯s latent magic.


    Oh, great. One of these stubborn things? Just my luck.


    Claire heaved a sigh as she tossed the garment aside. She knew what runecloaks were. Everyone did. They were so highly coveted that even the rich struggled to acquire them. Her father had only a small collection ranging somewhere in the scale of a few dozen, and that was only because he had picked them up on the battlefield.


    Under normal circumstances, the halfbreed would¡¯ve thought the acquisition a lucky find, but permanently altering a runecloak required a high leveled tailor. And while she was many things, a tailor was not one of them.


    With a frustrated sigh, the force mage decided that it was time to cast productivity to the wayside. She was exhausted from all the fighting and she didn¡¯t have the patience to deal with an article of clothing capable of actively working against her.


    Laying atop a bed made out of the softest cloaks in her collection, she closed her eyes, slowed her breathing, and drifted off to the land of dreams.

 Chapter 38 - Edge of the Abyss

    Chapter 38 - Edge of the Abyss


    ¡°This should be far enough.¡±


    Sylvia muttered under her breath as she came to a stop a few hundred meters away from the burrow. Looking over her shoulder, the fox activated a certain administrative skill and warped to Darkwood Hollow.


    Only a scant few hours had passed since the pair had departed, but the battleground had already been restored to its usual state. Every damaged tree was healed, every displaced mushroom was put back where it belonged, and every water-filled burrow was drained. Not even the corpses remained. All hundred ravens had been erased.


    ¡°Well done, Sylvia.¡± A musky feminine voice called to her. ¡°You did an excellent job of keeping her strung along. I almost couldn¡¯t believe that it was your first time.¡±


    She was approached by an orb of light roughly the size of her head. Within it was a green-eyed woman that stood at just over a dozen centimeters. Her hair was tied into a neat bun that featured a pair of fox-like ears, while her rear sported a trio of big fluffy tails. All three of them hung behind her, lifelessly, like a set of accessories. They remained completely unmoving, even as the tiny wingless fairy floated through the air.


    ¡°Thanks Mom. I tried really hard,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯m still not really sure how I feel about all this proctor stuff, but I guess it isn¡¯t really as bad as I thought it¡¯d be.¡±


    A soft orange glow wrapped itself around the fox¡¯s body as she spoke. The light was accompanied by a drastic change in her form. Her frame shrank to a fraction of its previous size while most of her fur vanished outright, replaced by either hair or skin. Unlike her mother, whose locks were a fiery red, hers were much lighter, closer to blonde than ginger. Likewise, her eyes also differed. They shone a shade of amber reminiscent of a honeycomb¡¯s prize.


    ¡°What happened to everyone else? Are they all still hiding?¡± Sylvia raised her voice. ¡°Claire, erm, the torch is already gone, so you can all come out now!¡±


    ¡°Not quite,¡± said the redhead, with a soft smile.


    Two distinct groups emerged from the forest as the sprite waved her hand. One, a herd of fairies, floated down from the canopy, while the other, a skulk of foxes, came from the earth. Many of them were already talking amongst themselves, either whispering or speaking directly into each other¡¯s minds.


    ¡°We were giving the two of you a moment, cub,¡± said Grant, as he broke through the crowd. ¡°I know you don¡¯t appreciate the peace and quiet, but your mother does.¡±


    ¡°We were watching you the whole time. Almost couldn¡¯t believe how badly you were stringing her along. That weird snake lady didn¡¯t suspect a thing,¡± said a particularly muscular fairy.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe both of you tried to meow! You¡¯ve been spending way too much time with your head in the books lately,¡± said a two tailed fox.


    ¡°I can¡¯t say much in Grant¡¯s defence, but she didn¡¯t have a choice,¡± said the fattest fox present, ¡°we all know that everyone that has to proctor a trial¡¯ll get pulled straight into Alfred¡¯s chamber for a whole damn week. If I didn¡¯t know any better, I¡¯d say he wants to try something with the ladies.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been over this, Burr,¡± said Grant. ¡°There¡¯s no need to worry, you can trust him with even our young ones. It is true that he holds age as no object, but his interests do not extend to our species.¡±


    ¡°I said, ¡®if I didn¡¯t know better,¡¯ old man,¡± scoffed Burr.


    ¡°Enough about all that. Where¡¯s the fish? I¡¯m starving, and I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve had any fish in ages!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°You¡¯ve only been gone for two turns, sweetie, and you had some before you left,¡± said her mother, with a sigh. ¡°And here I thought my little girl was finally growing up.¡±


    ¡°Give the cub a break, Dixie,¡± said Grant, with a snort. ¡°She¡¯s on the job, and she needs to be quick about sorting out her needs so she can proctor that ungrateful serpent¡¯s third trial. We might as well feed her so she can jump right back into it.¡±


    ¡°Oh, about that. I don¡¯t actually have to do anything for a whole turn and a half. Claire said that she isn¡¯t planning on setting out until tomorrow morning, so I¡¯ve actually got a bunch of free time, and I¡¯m going to spend all of it getting fished up!¡±


    ¡°You should stay nearby, at least,¡± scolded Dixie. ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to shirk your duties. If you wanted to eat fish, then you should¡¯ve convinced her to accompany you.¡±


    ¡°But Mom! All you ever do is shirk your duties!¡±


    ¡°She got you there, Dixie,¡± chuckled Burr. ¡°And you have to admit, throwing the torch at the steelwings was a pretty good idea. They were due for a bit of a cull.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense,¡± grumbled Grant. ¡°It was terrible and you know it.¡±


    Ignoring the older fox, the portly gentleman that was Burr continued. ¡°Using Grant to make your story more believable was smart too. Much better than anything Dixie¡¯s ever come up with.¡±


    ¡°It certainly was, and I¡¯m proud of her for it,¡± admitted the redhead. ¡°But I¡¯d still rather she not make my mistakes.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t worry about that,¡± said Burr. ¡°It¡¯s much more difficult to get attached to an impulsive barbarian than it is a gentleman with a¡­ peculiar set of interests.¡±


    Though Sylvia knew the description to be accurate, she couldn¡¯t help but feel a little bit annoyed. There was no denying that Claire was somewhat of a barbarian, but the fox had felt an affinity for her nonetheless.


    ¡°Anyway, let¡¯s stop talking about the trial. I¡¯ve been talking all day already, so I¡¯m going to get some fish. I¡¯ll catch back up with everyone in a bit!¡±


    Sylvia dashed out of the settlement at top speed, arriving at the lakeside in less than a minute. She looked over her shoulder upon her arrival and addressed the invisible anomaly that had been following her all day.


    ¡°Hey, Alfred? I have a really dumb question that I know you¡¯re not going to like.¡±


    ¡°Ask away, child.¡±


    One of the ancient mage¡¯s projections materialized next to her. It looked exactly like him, only partially translucent and coloured in shades of sepia.


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    ¡°Can I really? You promise you won¡¯t get mad at me?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± The human adjusted his hat as he walked his projection onto the water¡¯s surface and turned around. ¡°While you certainly aren''t a catgirl, you are still one of my creations,¡± he said, slowly. ¡°And given that you¡¯re seeing your people¡¯s duty through, you¡¯re free to speak your mind and ask whatever you¡¯d like.¡±


    ¡°Okay, then here goes¡­¡± Sylvia took a deep breath. ¡°Do we really have to do all this silly proctor stuff? It isn¡¯t as bad as I thought it was going to be, but I still hate it.¡±


    Alfred pulled his hat down over his eyes. ¡°This again? Maybe it runs in the family¡­¡± he muttered, under his breath.


    ¡°Maybe it does,¡± the fairy giggled as she turned back into a four-legged forest dweller. ¡°But I really don¡¯t understand. It all just seems pointless. I know why you¡¯re pretending, but why do I have to pretend too? Or be a part of it at all? You¡¯re way better at lying and I think I already messed up a bunch.¡±


    ¡°Removing you from the equation would take the fun out of it,¡± he scoffed. ¡°Just think of the whole ordeal as another one of your pranks or tricks.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not really the same.¡± She flopped onto her belly, her ears bent forward and her tail drooping behind her.


    ¡°You may not understand, but my methods are effective. You¡¯re free to take the reins and do with them as you will, but do be aware that I know full well what I¡¯m doing. If you follow my lead, you will achieve our goals.¡±


    ¡°I¡­I¡¯ll have to think about it,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Do that.¡±


    With a nod, the human faded away, leaving only the fox, her thoughts, and a serene lake.


    __


    Opening her eyes, Claire found herself in the midst of a sea of white. Beneath her feet were countless clouds, extending like a field for as far as the eye could see. It was a scene that reminded her of all the times she had looked down from the manor on days with overcast skies. On some days, the clouds would remain underfoot. But on others, they would rise far above the Augustus¡¯ mansion. The maids often complained about the supposed poor weather, but the blueblood had never minded it. The lack of sunlight made it so she wanted to spend the occasion sleeping in and lazing about, but that too was something she enjoyed. Of course, her father had quite the number of complaints, but she had always disregarded them. She saw no reason to fight the urges wrought by her blood.


    The smile on Claire¡¯s face lasted for only an instant. A second look at the vista left her feeling more dismayed than lethargic. Because frolicking within the chalky ocean was a clowder of catgirls. A hundred and one of them. She didn¡¯t know why she knew exactly how many there were. She just did. And it plagued her.


    As the epitome of brilliance, however, the halfbreed was quick to contrive a solution. Raising her head, she looked beyond the heavenly garden and at the ball of fire suspended up above. Blindness would be the cure to all her problems. Or so she thought. No matter how long she stared or how little she blinked, the halfbreed¡¯s retinas remained sinfully intact. She couldn¡¯t get the catgirls out of her mind. It didn¡¯t matter how hard she tried to look away. They remained in her peripherals, slowly eating away at her sanity. Not even closing her eyes provided much of a solution. She could still hear their giggles, meows, and growls in vivid, vivid, detail.


    ¡°How¡­ obscene. Is this meant to be your idea of the divine realm, Claire?¡±


    A voice broke her from her frustrated trance. It was soft but critical, equal parts tired and disapproving. And even though her ears were preoccupied tracking the hundred and one beastfolk, it had rang clear. Just like the bell, it echoed straight into her mind.


    Unsealing her sense of sight, she looked around for the woman that was its source, eventually spotting her upon a grand throne far off in the distance.


    Until she blinked.


    When the halfbreed opened her eyes again, the divine seat had vanished from its position on the horizon. Now, it was right in front of her, situated on an elevated platform less than five meters away. The pure white stone that it was made of glowed brightly at first, but soon faded to reveal in detail the being atop it, a young woman in her twenties at most. Floating just above her curly hair was a raven-black crown in the form of a laurel wreath. It was one of only two pieces of clothing she wore, the other a dark dress, made of a ghostly thin fabric, and lined with a dull blue glow. So loose was the fit that Claire almost couldn¡¯t believe it wasn¡¯t falling off her slender frame.


    Her hair was of a peculiar colour. It was a set of dark blues and purples, with the occasional speck of white laid within, almost like a cloudless night sky. Her eyes were the same, dark and brilliant as a distant nebula.


    ¡°I can hear you? And I can talk too¡­ What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Claire looked down at herself, only then realizing that her body was much more solid than it had been during most of her other dreams. She still felt weightless, but she wasn¡¯t translucent, nor did she lack a sense of touch.


    ¡°I have summoned you to address an insult.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°One of your statements has left me with a sense of discontent. Why is it that you are so irreverent, mortal?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Claire blinked several times as she racked her brain, but she couldn¡¯t come up with anything meaningful.


    Seeing the blank expression led the crowned woman to slowly shake her head. ¡°Do you not recognize me?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    Sighing, the raven-haired being stood up from her throne and opened her arms wide.


    ¡°Behold, mortal. You are in the presence of the goddess of the eternal flow, the guardian deity that has watched over your soul for all of its iterations.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re the box?¡± asked Claire, as she crossed her arms.


    ¡°You are correct. For once.¡± The deity narrowed her gaze. ¡°Now I believe that I am owed an apology.¡±


    ¡°Is this about how I called you uncultured?¡±


    ¡°Correct again. It is rather unusual for you to make two astute observations in a row.¡±


    ¡°Wait, if you¡¯re my guardian deity, then you¡¯re the one in charge of my logs¡­ Why are you worried about insults? You¡¯re insulting me all the time,¡± muttered the halfbreed. ¡°And I call you stupid all the time too.¡±


    ¡°I had every intention of encouraging you to recall each of those instances and apologizing for them as well, preferably with your apologies expressed in terms of offerings.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s too bad,¡± said Claire. ¡°I¡¯m not apologizing.¡±


    ¡°And why not?¡± Contrary to the halfbreed¡¯s expectations, the divine being¡¯s face softened, expressing pity over anger.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care what you think. You¡¯ve never done anything for me. I should be resenting you for not providing me with any oracles or forewarnings, not worshipping you.¡±


    ¡°That is because you swore yourself to Builledracht during your childhood. Are you not aware of the idiocy that such a choice entails? You would have left the realm of my control had he not owed me a favour.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that matters.¡±


    ¡°Your lack of intellect is once again preventing us from holding a productive discussion.¡± The goddess smiled. Gently. Lovingly. ¡°I suppose I will have to try a different method instead.¡±


    She walked forward and descended the steps that separated them. With the distance closed, she slowly extended a hand and placed two fingers atop Claire¡¯s head. The halfbreed had tried to recoil away from it, but was unable to move. Her body was completely bound in place.


    Log Entry 858


    You have received a minor blessing from the goddess of the eternal flow. Your log has been upgraded.


    ¡°I will excuse you for swearing to Builledracht, but a second similar mistake will not be forgiven. Swear only to me, Claire. And remember, remember that you are not destined to walk the simple, straightforward path taken by the chosen. You are not like the ones the bards sing of. You will face hardship. You will face disparity. And you will struggle. But even so, you are mine, of your own volition. And you must ascend.¡±


    The next time Claire blinked, she found herself back in the burrow, atop a small pile of clothes. Her mind was wide awake and the goddess¡¯ warm touch still lingered. But the rogue was focused neither on the out of place sensation nor on the abnormal extent of her alertness. She was too preoccupied with a certain important question to consider anything beyond it.


    ¡°Which goddess was supposed to be in charge of the eternal flow again?¡±

 Chapter 39 - Edge of the Abyss II

    Chapter 39 - Edge of the Abyss II


    Claire sat around for a few moments as she contemplated the goddess¡¯ identity. The blueblood was somewhat familiar with the eternal flow. Allegra, her tutor in the mystic arts, had mentioned the concept on several occasions, but she had never gone into detail. Her countrymen cared little for it; its goddess was rarely mentioned in any notable Cadrian texts.


    That, in and of itself, was nothing out of the ordinary. Even powerful gods were often left ignored in regions beyond their influence. The god of the sea, for example, was scarcely named in most landlocked countries, his blessings and condemnations forgotten by all but scholars and the clergy.


    Only a small handful of deities lorded over concepts broad enough to be universally acknowledged, and many of them were more notorious than they were widely worshipped. Vella, the goddess of war, was hated by wives from all corners of society. She was often mocked for being a lustful harlot who stole dutiful husbands from their families. Likewise, Builledracht, the god of curses, was labelled an eccentric degenerate that drew pleasure from suffering. Neither were particularly liked, but they were among the most well known, even more reputable than the goddess of order and the divine collective of art and song.


    On the other side of the spectrum were gods that presided over very specific topics, areas, or groups. The god of the inner flame, for one, was a well documented case of an immortal that revealed himself only to those already in tune with his ideals. He would have remained largely unknown, had one of his believers not been the head of a state.


    Claire wasn¡¯t sure which of these umbrellas her patron deity fell under. Her awareness of the eternal flow appeared to suggest that the goddess was either somewhat influential or a notable outlier of sorts, but she couldn¡¯t recall which. Whatever the case, the halfbreed was left with an unanswered question she couldn¡¯t ignore: why?


    She simply didn¡¯t understand the reason the Goddess was supposedly in charge of her. The eternal flow wasn¡¯t something her mother had ever mentioned, which was to say it likely was just as uninfluential in Sthenia as it was in Cadria. To Claire¡¯s knowledge, there hadn¡¯t been any extenuating circumstances with regards to her birth either. She was a rare mix of species, but that alone was no reason for an unknown god to swoop in and claim her. She should have, by all means, been born under Vella¡¯s star, like her father, or Krebb¡¯s, like her mother.


    The question of her patron¡¯s identity was one she had asked before, but the ever practical Duke Augustus had blocked her from uncovering it. As far as her father was concerned, Builledracht was the only one deserving of her faith. And that was precisely why she had none whatsoever.


    In the end, Claire found herself unable to come up with any clues, so she set the thought aside and opened her supposedly new and improved log. Her first impression was that nothing had changed, but a smaller box popped up after a brief delay. It was much like the panel that appeared whenever she wanted to look at a skill¡¯s finer details, only its contents didn¡¯t need to be read. They read themselves before she could even start to eye them.


    Congratulations. You have been blessed by the ever lovely goddess of the eternal flow. This is a rare privilege that few will ever experience. Frankly, you are undeserving.


    The paragraph was narrated in the goddess¡¯ voice, the words said in a flattened tone that could only be described as bland and indifferent.


    This blessing¡¯s effect is very simple and even you may be capable of understanding it. Your log is now fitted with a voice module. You will no longer need to read any entries. All of them will be spoken to you in my voice. Please be aware that this feature cannot be disabled.


    Thanks, Box. I hate it already.


    The purpose of this feature is to build your faith in me. May you never forget to whom it is you belong.


    One curse was bad enough... Claire closed her log as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Why are all these stupid immortals forcing all these weird things on me?


    Heaving another sigh, she pulled up her status and recalled an older problem, the distribution of her ability scores. She had been stuck on it for the whole trip back to the den, but the power nap had helped her make up her mind. Wisdom was the answer.


    The rogue knew very little about force magic and she knew even less about spirit guardians, but if other schools were to be considered, then any spell that required a thousand mana was sure to be well worth the expense. A water spell with such a cost could wash away a small village, whereas a wood-based one could uproot and relocate several dozen trees. They were spells that only the ascended could use, as few mages under level 50 could muster up enough magical power to afford them. Not without some sort of sacrifice.


    Claire didn¡¯t quite have all of the mana she needed either, but if her mental math was correct, spending 43 of the 46 points she had on hand would get her just enough to cast it once.


    Following through on the investment, however, proved that she was incorrect. Her total capacity nearly doubled, jumping from 872 to 1555.


    Wait, where did all that mana suddenly come from? She blinked a few times before she flicked her tongue in realisation. 250 must have been another threshold. So that¡¯s¡­ 100, then 250? Is the next one¡­uhmmmm... 625? That can¡¯t be right, can it? It seems like too weird of a number.


    While she was surprised by the sudden jump in her stats, she didn¡¯t find the phenomenon itself all that startling. Thresholding was one of the few concepts that her lessons had more or less hammered into her; it was both the reason her mana was so much higher than her health, as well as why her body had suddenly felt as light as a feather as soon as she got her strength and agility over 100.


    After taking another look at her stats and allocating her three remaining points to vitality, the halfbreed spent a few moments eyeing her untested spell. Despite making a hefty investment, she found herself hesitant to cast it. Its name was what bothered her. She couldn¡¯t help but suspect that her guardian spirit would be in some way related to her patron deity, and she had already had more than enough of the goddess for one day.


    ¡°I really shouldn¡¯t.¡±


    Despite muttering the correct decision under her breath, she went against her better judgement and cast the spell. The magical energy that was expelled from her body took up a familiar shape atop her left shoulder. The entity that formed was long and thin, with its body coiled around her forelimb and its head poking out from underneath the pit of her arm.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°Hey, remember me?¡±


    The snake spoke to her. And for once, it wasn¡¯t just her imagination. She could feel its weight, as well as the hair-raising sensation of its scales against hers.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t had any chances to show up lately, with that fox around, but I¡¯m back,¡± it said.


    There was a moment of silence. Claire stared blankly at the serpent while it returned her gaze with the smuggest face a reptile could manage. The ten seconds that elapsed were the only ten that the snake remained. Because that was how long it took for the mage¡¯s mind to finally catch up with her. Her face contorting in disgust, she cancelled the spell and banished the spirit.


    ¡°Why would you dismiss me!? Summon me again! Summon me right now!¡±


    The make-believe predator poofed back into existence, right where it had vanished. But this time, its form was incorporeal.


    ¡°Go away. You¡¯re not allowed to be real.¡±


    Claire waved it off her, scattering the smoky substance that was its body to the winds. She knew it could come back immediately, if it really wanted, but the conversation-ending cue was one that they had used for a decade already. It was sure to be well aware that she wasn¡¯t in the mood to deal with its shenanigans.


    Shoulder snakes aren''t real. Shoulder snakes are not real. Shoulder snakes named Shouldersnake are definitely not real.


    Having convinced herself of the whole unadulterated truth, the halfbreed picked up a random cloak and began cutting away at the cloth. She punched a few holes in the hood so there was enough space for her ears and trimmed the rest down to a suitable size. The shoulders had to be sewn closer together so that the mantle wouldn¡¯t fall off the moment she pulled the hood back, and she even removed the sleeves outright. They were unnecessary, more prone to getting in the way than they were helpful.


    Log Entry 859


    You have acquired the Sewing skill.


    Please stop talking, Box. Your voice is already starting to get really annoying.


    Her ears caught signs of movement right as she picked up a second cloak. Rapid light footsteps approached the den, culminating in the form of a fox sticking its head through the entrance.


    ¡°Hey Claire, I¡¯m a little early, but I¡¯m back!¡± The words were muffled, in part because the furball had a fish in her mouth. ¡°Wait, I thought you were supposed to be asleep? Weren¡¯t you tired? I thought you said you were going to bed.¡±


    "I slept already."


    ¡°Really? I thought you were going to be asleep a lot longer. You were out for a whole turn and a half, last time.¡±


    The bluescale shrugged.


    ¡°Well, I guess this is even better since now I don¡¯t have to bury the fish I got you. I just nabbed it out of the water, so it should still be really tasty. Wanna try eating it?¡±


    She placed what looked like a carp on top of the leather cloak. It wasn¡¯t that large of a catch, as it was small enough for the fox to hold it, but what it lacked in size, it made up with in vigour. The oxygen-deprived morsel continued to flop around until Sylvia put it down and pressed both her front paws on top of its face.


    ¡°Maybe later.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯ll start tasting kind of funny later! Fish tastes best when you eat it right after you catch it, so if you¡¯re gonna eat it, now¡¯s the best time.¡±


    ¡°Then you can have it. I don¡¯t want it right now.¡±


    ¡°Are you really sure? You won¡¯t be able to find any tasty fish for a while if you¡¯re stuck hanging around borrok peak.¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Okay, then I¡¯ll just eat this one myself.¡±


    Sylvia devoured the tiny carp in the blink of an eye. It only took her two bites, even though it looked like she would have needed four or five, given the size of her mouth. Even stranger was that the fox consumed the entire creature. The bones, scales, and fins were all swallowed alongside the flesh and entrails.


    ¡°Oh, are those the clothes you said you were going to work on?¡± Sylvia licked her lips as she looked over the pile. ¡°How come you¡¯re working on one of the cloth ones? Isn¡¯t this leather one over here way better?¡±


    ¡°No. It doesn¡¯t fit.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Why not? All you have to do is cut it up a little, right?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a runecloak. It¡¯ll fix itself.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ That¡¯s a real shame then. It probably has some sort of really cool ability.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± said Claire, as she moved onto a third cloak.


    ¡°I wonder what it is. Maybe it¡¯ll let you fly, or maybe it¡¯ll make it so you can breathe fire! I hope it¡¯s not one of the lame ones that just makes you a better fighter or something. Dad said he used to have one that made it so that his spells cost a lot less mana, but apparently he had to sell it to pay back a debt or something.¡±


    ¡°Does your father know any tailors?¡±


    "Ummmm... I don''t know if he does, but I do, and I know you do too!"


    ¡°I do?¡± Claire looked up from her work.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s Grant! Though I don¡¯t think he¡¯s gonna do it because he already found out about the shovel and stuff, and he¡¯s really mad. Fishing took three times as long as usual because he kept shouting at me and scaring all the prey away!¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s ask him anyway.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know if that¡¯s a good idea.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m good at negotiating.¡±


    ¡°Really? It kinda doesn¡¯t seem like it¡­¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes before turning them back to Sylvia. ¡°Wait.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°If he¡¯s a tailor¡­ does that mean you wear clothes?¡±


    ¡°Of course not, silly! Why would a fox ever wear anything?¡±


    ¡°Not wearing clothes is indecent,¡± she said, as she swapped her older, ruined cloak out for a newer one.


    ¡°No it¡¯s not! Our fur covers everything!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it does,¡± said Claire. ¡°Will we make it back by nightfall if we leave now?¡±


    ¡°I doubt it, but it¡¯s on the way to Borrok Peak, so we can go tomorrow mornin¡ªhey, wait a second! I¡¯m not indecent!¡±


    ¡°Whatever you say.¡± The force mage smiled, faintly, as she began working on yet another article of clothing.


    Sylvia might know what the goddess¡¯ name is¡­ but I don¡¯t want to ask her. I don¡¯t need her teasing me.


    ___


    Claire


    Health: 312/312


    Mana: 647/1555


    Health Regen: 71/hour


    Mana Regen: 1108/hour


    Ability Scores - 0 Points Available


    - Agility: 115


    - Dexterity: 127


    - Spirit: 95


    - Strength: 117


    - Vitality: 71


    - Wisdom: 277


    Racial Class: Halfbreed - Level 25.19


    - Lashing Tailstrike - Level 1.00


    - Paralyzing Gaze - Level 1.40


    - Quadrupedal Bloodrush - Level 1.01


    Primary Class: Llystletein Rogue - Level 34.65


    - Assassinate - Level 6.40


    - Bloodthief - Level 3.14


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 6.66


    - Double Stab - Level 8.16


    - Envenom - Level 10.97


    - Manathief - Level 1.00


    Secondary Class: Llystletein Force Mage - Level 1.15


    - Basic Force Manipulation - Level 2.86


    - Basic Force Resistance - Level 2.81


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 10.93


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 1.00


    - Club Mastery - Level 9.39


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 7.82


    - Dancing - Level 6.02


    - Digging - Level 10.27


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 3.97


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 9.62


    - Marish - Level 19.02


    - Sewing - Level 1.42


    - Sneaking - Level 9.83


    - Spear Mastery - Level 3.82


    - Sword Mastery - Level 6.45


    - Throwing - Level 4.80


    - Tracking - Level 8.37


    - Unarmed Combat Mastery - Level 5.16

 Chapter 40 - Edge of the Abyss III

    Chapter 40 - Edge of the Abyss III


    The pair set out early the next morning, almost immediately after sunrise. For once, Claire had managed to sleep through the entire night with not a single lucid dream or vision of the past. Better yet, she had awoken naturally. Her face was nowhere near the floor and her nose was safe from any would-be assailants. All the signs seemed to say that she was sure to be well rested. But she wasn¡¯t. Her neck was killing her; its right side screamed whenever she moved, no doubt in part because her arms were far from serviceable, as far as pillows went.


    Why didn¡¯t it hurt any of the other days?


    Attempting to solve the mystery only served to highlight another equally obnoxious problem. Her head was aching. The dull, pounding pain in the back of her skull refused to leave her alone. It wasn¡¯t crippling and it had been slowly getting better over the course of the morning, but it was still obnoxious and omnipresent.


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re okay, Claire? You look really pale and your legs seem a little shaky.¡±


    Sylvia looked back as she poked her head out of a short thick shrub. There were a few leaves stuck in her fur, but she didn¡¯t mind, or notice for that matter. Such was the norm for a creature that wove in and out of the undergrowth.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. Stop asking.¡±


    Claire nudged the fox as she spoke, magically prodding the side of her face so that she would stop looking back.


    ¡°Okay, okay, I get it! You don¡¯t have to push me! I was just worried!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Then why are you still pushing me!?¡±


    ¡°Practice?¡± said the rogue, in an uncertain tone. The truth of the matter was that she wasn''t quite sure herself.


    ¡°You¡¯re so mean. Can¡¯t you be at least a tiny bit nicer? It doesn¡¯t hurt to say something like, ¡®thanks Sylvia, I¡¯m okay,¡¯ does it?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t,¡± admitted the bluescale.


    ¡°Then why aren''t you? I thought nobles were supposed to be good at pretending to be nice to people! Dad always says that they¡¯re fat two-faced jerks with promises as empty as their hearts.¡±


    ¡°Only the ones with less power and influence.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ Well it doesn¡¯t matter! I still think you should be nice to people. Everyone will be nicer to you if everyone knows you¡¯re a good person! I swear it works! Everyone back at home is always super nice and it makes me want to be nice to them too,¡± said Sylvia, as she stopped in front of the tree house.


    ¡°Am I being nice to you?¡±


    ¡°Well...¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡± A smug smile briefly appeared on Claire¡¯s face as she reached for the two dimensional door painted on the tree¡¯s trunk. ¡°Wait here. I¡¯ll be out shortly.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to hurt him, right? I know you probably won¡¯t but I just need to make sure because he¡¯s really old and gets hurt really easily. I don¡¯t think he can grow his tails back anymore either.¡±


    ¡°No. That would be unproductive.¡±


    Taking a deep breath, the bluescale crouched under the open doorway. It was time for her to negotiate with an obnoxious old fox, in a way that only a perfectly reasonable person could.


    ___


    A few minutes later, Claire emerged from the plant-based home with one less runecloak on her person.


    ¡°Wow, that was quick!¡± said Sylvia, who was curled up by the door. ¡°Both of you are really stubborn, so I was sure you were going to scream at each other for like an hour! Did you give up?¡±


    ¡°He said it¡¯ll be ready by the time I¡¯m done with my quest,¡± said the rogue, as she took a seat next to the door.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go. Hurry up.¡±


    ¡°Wait! Wait!!¡± The fox pushed her tail into Claire¡¯s face and started waving it back and forth. ¡°How did you get him to listen to you!? Grant hates torches. He probably hates you even more because of what you did to his stuff.¡±


    Claire shrugged before grabbing Sylvia by the feather duster and putting her back on the ground. ¡°He listened to me because I¡¯m reasonable.¡±


    ¡°Umm¡­ if you say so.¡± The fox turned her eyes away. Her ears drooped and her tail fell onto the grass beside her. ¡°So are you ready to go to Borrok Peak now? Or do you need to do anything else?¡±


    Prompted by her guide, the half lamia gave all of her gear a final once over. Her club was present and mounted on her back, her daggers were strapped to her thighs, and a pair of antler blades hung from her waist. Her shoulder bag was missing, but that was because she had intentionally left it in the den.


    ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±


    ¡°Okay! Then you might want to eat some of these before we head out.¡± Sylvia walked up to a bush and picked a cluster of dark green berries.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll make you feel much better. They taste really bad, so they might be a bit tough to swallow, but they should fix you right up, since you probably don¡¯t want to fight when you¡¯re not feeling so good.¡±


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Claire reached for the cluster, but stopped short of grabbing it.


    ¡°This is another prank, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°O-of course not,¡± said Sylvia, as she took a small step backwards. ¡°Why would I ever do that?¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence, during which the force mage slowly raised the hand she had under her cloak. She was confident that she had the other girl in her grasp, but a musical note got in her way the moment she tried to reel her in. The spell detonated as it made contact with her face, exploding into a blast of water big enough to soak her through.


    ¡°Gotcha!¡±


    Shouting gleefully, the fox darted off into the forest at top speed. None of the bushes or trees in her way mattered to her. She phased right through all of them, her body turning translucent the moment before impact.


    ¡°Get back here!¡±


    A less-than-thrilled Claire begrudgingly chased after her. The rogue was well aware that it was just another one of the fox¡¯s games, but she played along either way; she knew that the vixen was still leading her in the direction she needed to go.


    More importantly, the four-legged fluffball made for the perfect practice dummy. The freshly crowned force mage was going to need to be able to hit fast moving targets if she wanted to use her newfound magic in battle, and the fox was far quicker than any of the swamp-meadow¡¯s other monsters. Bolstering her elusivity even further were the spells she threw into the mix. She didn¡¯t just phase through things. She also created an endless number of floating platforms shaped like musical notes. They didn¡¯t support Claire¡¯s weight, but the fox could use them to run through the air.


    The game of tag lasted much longer than the thirty-odd minutes that Claire had expected. They spent several hours navigating the woodland. Passing through the veabers¡¯ territory, the two arrived at a region that featured nothing but evergreens. The tall but thin conifers were difficult for Claire to climb, and Sylvia stayed far out of her reach until they made it into the next area. That, however, wasn¡¯t to say that the fox had gotten the better of her. What started as a game of tag soon devolved into a pine cone fight, courtesy of the bluescale¡¯s less than perfect temper. Claire was confident that she had come out on top of that particular encounter; she landed at least twice as many hits.


    Next was an area populated by nothing but large hills on both sides. They moved in opposite undulating patterns. While the two worlds never met, they came close on several occasions. Many of the forest¡¯s hills were so tall that Claire had to duck to stop herself from getting a facefull of marshwater. Likewise, many of the meadows extended so far that she had to crawl to get underneath them. The few trees that were around grew straight into the swamp. Their canopies were buried in the muddy lake, but somehow, they were unaffected. It was almost like they didn¡¯t care that they were more than half submerged.


    The sheer number of tight spaces meant that the shorter Sylvia once again had the edge, but Claire still managed to catch her, albeit only once. Her ability to squeeze through tight spaces had thrown the fox for a loop. Literally. The four legged critter had spiralled out of control after being tossed through the air.


    Area five was a calmer district with little to no life. The woodland was nothing but waist high shrubs, and all of the trees that did exist were dried-up old husks. The hollow blackened trunks sprang not from the forest, but from the marsh. And it was there, on the edge between the fourth and fifth areas, that Sylvia finally stopped. Claire slowed her pace as well, coming to a halt right next to the canid, who had risen to her hind legs.


    ¡°We¡¯re here! This is where Mirewood Meadow ends. Oh ummm, actually it¡¯s only one of the places where it ends. There¡¯s a whole bunch of them, but this is one of the far corners. No one really comes here unless they really have to, and I think that¡¯s probably why the borroks live here too.¡± Sylvia turned to face Claire. ¡°But before we go into any of that, how was that game of tag? Fun? I know you enjoyed it!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Claire crossed her arms and turned to face the other direction.


    ¡°And you¡¯re probably feeling a lot better now, right? It looked like you weren¡¯t feeling all that great at the start, but you¡¯re not looking nearly as pale anymore.¡±


    The rogue rolled her eyes as she sat down next to the fox. ¡°Yes, I am feeling better, but it has nothing to do with running around chasing you.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh, I bet,¡± said Sylvia, with a light giggle. ¡°Now look up there, at the swamp. You see where it drops?¡±


    Claire followed her guide¡¯s paw and directed her gaze upwards. Though it was a bit hard to make out at first, there certainly was a place where the marsh came to an abrupt stop. Several places, in fact, none of which were all that far away. But even as she stared, she couldn¡¯t figure out exactly how the ground ended. It just did. Looking down, she realized that, while it was a bit harder to tell with all the greenery in the way, the forest was the same. There was a point where it just suddenly ceased to exist. The only thing that lay beyond, in the empty space between the two, was an endless sky.


    ¡°Why isn¡¯t any of the water flowing off the edge?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure. That¡¯s just how it¡¯s always been. Kinda neat, right?¡±


    Claire frowned, but she didn¡¯t bother pursuing an answer. There was nothing to be done if the fox had no idea.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Borrok Peak?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s right there.¡±


    Claire squinted her eyes as she looked in the direction of the paw.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see anything.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just because you¡¯re too far back. You¡¯ll start to see it if you move up a tiny bit.¡±


    Claire furrowed her brow, but abided by the fox¡¯s suggestion. Standing up, she took a hesitant step forward.


    Her field of view changed inexplicably. A rocky structure appeared where there had been nothing before and extended the path forward. Two massive sloping ramps, made of dark grey stone, grew from where the marsh and the forest suddenly ended. Each was curved inwards to form a towering spiral, one akin to a ram¡¯s horn with the end bent so far that it faced forward. Only at their pointed tips did the two nearly parallel slabs finally meet.


    Taking another step forward caused the structure to move further towards completion. Two additional walls suddenly appeared to its left and right, closing it off from the outside. A third step caused the world around her to turn a shade of grey, while the previously monochrome structure took on a rusted, irony hue.


    ¡°This is as far as I can take you. It¡¯d count as cheating if I did anything else,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But I want to ask you something before I go.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°What do you plan to do when you leave Llystletein?¡±


    The question stopped Claire in her tracks. Her hands dropped to her sides and she closed her eyes, only to slowly open them again as she shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. At least not yet.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Then why¡¯d you come to the library? Aren''t you here for power or something?¡±


    Again, the half lamia shook her head. ¡°It was the only way for me to get away from my father.¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°He wanted to use me. As a sacrifice.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± The fox¡¯s ears bent forward. ¡°Well um¡­ I have to go now. I¡¯ll be around when you¡¯re done.¡±


    ¡°How will you know?¡±


    ¡°Trust me, I just will!¡± The fox, whose orange fur had been dyed a shade of grey, vanished as she took a step back, leaving nothing but her voice behind. ¡°Don¡¯t die!¡±


    Of course. The only time she actually shuts up is when I want her to keep talking. Claire huffed to herself as she looked towards the colossal horn. After slowing her breathing and crouching to keep herself out of sight, she moved her hands to the weapons strapped to her waist and frowned.


    She had no idea where her targets were, or how she was supposed to vandalize the massive tower of iron, even rusted as it was. But one thing was clear. It was time for her Force Mage class to gain its first level.

 Chapter 41 - Edge of the Abyss IV

    Chapter 41 - Edge of the Abyss IV


    The environment continued to warp as Claire approached the horn. Every step led to an alteration, a major change that almost seemed to shift the realm itself. The horn, the subspace¡¯s primary feature, didn¡¯t fully stabilize until she was just a few hundred meters shy of its entrance. The edifice¡¯s size was nothing short of absurd, towering at something over twenty times the marsh¡¯s height, a feat only made possible by the wetlands¡¯ sudden end. Not even craning her neck as far as it would go was enough for her to see the structure in all its majesty. No matter how she looked, half the horn remained hidden behind the swamp that lay overhead.


    How am I supposed to vandalize something that big?


    Recalling one of her quest¡¯s objectives led the halfbreed to stop where she stood. It wasn¡¯t possible. While she wasn¡¯t exactly unfamiliar with the process of playful misconduct, the largest thing she had ever defaced was Allegra¡¯s house, and that had been a whole day affair even with Alice¡¯s help. Messing up something at least a hundred times larger all by herself was nothing short of inconceivable.


    Thanks Alfred, I hate you.


    With a sigh, she set all thoughts of the celestial aside and focused on her surroundings. Signs of life started to appear after she took another few steps. Several flocks of birds suddenly phased into existence all at once, some in the grasslands, some in the marsh, and some in the infinite sky that lay beyond.


    Staring at the winged creatures caused her to spot two sets of footprints¡ªhoofprints¡ªin the soil up above her. She could tell at a glance that they didn¡¯t belong to ordinary horses. The ovular two-tipped markings were identical to the patterns often seen on traditional centaurian footwear. One set was significantly wider and deeper than the other, indicative of an individual with a hefty frame, which was to say that they could have belonged to the pair she had been ordered to safeguard.


    How old are these tracks? I can¡¯t tell.


    Despite her concerns, the halfbreed judged that following the trail was her best bet. It was more or less headed in the massive landmark¡¯s direction. The prints¡¯ owners were likely more familiar with the area than she was, and any knowledge was always better than none.


    ___


    Five or so minutes later, she finally found her first non-avian monsters. Four shelled creatures were crowded around what looked to be a piece of metal left in the mud overhead. She couldn¡¯t tell what they were meant to be; they were difficult to identify and their upside down positions didn¡¯t exactly do her any favours.


    Most of her confusion stemmed from the bastardization that was their form factor. Their human-sized heads seemed to declare them as primates. They had messy hair, chimp-like lips, wrinkly faces with flat noses, and prickly white beards. At the same time, they also had disproportionate cat-like ears, whiskers, and long striped feline tails. If those were the monsters¡¯ only features, she would have assumed them to be failed catgirls, byproducts of whatever process the head librarian had used to fulfill his fantasies. But they weren¡¯t. The rest of their bodies were beetle-like. They had segmented carapaces, insectoid legs, and wings hidden beneath tough green shells of chitin. Mammalian features aside, their bodies¡ªtheir thoraxes and abdomens¡ªmeasured in at roughly half a meter long.


    ¡°Their ears are even bigger than mine,¡± she muttered. But mine are prettier.


    ¡°Is it finally time to kill stuff?¡± A snake appeared on her shoulder. The silver noodle¡¯s tongue danced gleefully through the air as it raised its body towards the marsh.


    ¡°You again.¡±


    ¡°Yes, me again.¡± The serpent turned around to face her. ¡°Set me loose, Claire. This is the perfect chance for you to test your new skill.¡±


    She had to admit that the snake had a point. As the product of an incredibly expensive and likely devastating spell, her spirit guardian seemed like a perfect contingency, which was to say that she needed to be fully aware of its strengths and limitations so she could pull it out if things ever went south. But she still didn¡¯t want to deal with it. Not yet, at least.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. Go away.¡±


    Not bothering to wave the serpent off, Claire leapt into action. She rose from the undergrowth and flung a nearby rock at the closest creature¡¯s face. Landing right on target, the attack left a horrifying dent in the bug-monkey¡¯s skull and sent the poor critter face-first into the mud. The bloody distortion was so large and eye-catching that she immediately assumed that the creature was crippled, if not dead. But it wasn¡¯t. Even with its brain exposed, it righted itself and got back to its feet without so much as a moment¡¯s delay.


    Hooting angrily, like some sort of freakish owl, the abomination rose to meet her, accompanied by all three of its friends. Their wings buzzed as they whizzed through the air like a group of bees. They would hover in place at times while rapidly darting around at others. Both their acceleration and their top speed far outclassed the ravens¡¯, but it made no difference. Their speed was irrelevant; they all froze as soon as she glared at them.


    Log Entry 863


    Paralyzing Gaze has reached level 2.


    With the beating of their wings suddenly put on hold, the bugs began plummeting back towards the swamp. Most of the group¡¯s members took a second to recover, with her brain-damaged victim needing roughly twice as long. Claire couldn¡¯t help but feel that it was both too long and too short. On one hand, it would have been more than enough time for her to land a lethal blow had they been any closer, but on the other, each of the four casts cost her a full 250MP.


    ¡°You can stop bothering me now,¡± she said to the snake still on her shoulder. ¡°I don¡¯t have enough mana to summon you anymore.¡±


    ¡°They would¡¯ve been dead if you spent that mana on me. Stupid, dimwitted, halfblooded, peanut brained barbari¡­¡± It grumbled at her as it slowly faded away, leaving only an unfinished trail of insults behind.


    ¡°Finish that sentence and I¡¯ll never summon you again,¡± said Claire, as she drew a dagger.


    The first whiskered bug to fully recover flew straight at her, hissing with its mouth agape and its fangs bared. It was quick, not quick enough to cause her any trouble by its lonesome, but a solitary hunter it was not. Its two uninjured companions followed soon after. Claire managed to repel one of them by parrying its chin with her wrist, but the other made contact with her shoulder and sank its fangs deep into her flesh.


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    Wincing, she grabbed the arm-sized bug with her free hand and tore it off of her, Double-Stabbing it twice as she threw it at the nearest tree. Both attacks ran it through, creating large holes in its abdomen. Fresh, yellow blood dripped from its wounds, but the insectoid primate was still alive and kicking. It resumed flying at her before it even hit the ground.


    Must be a Llystletein variant.


    The fourth cat monkey, the one whose head was heavily damaged, dove at her right as she launched its companion, but she managed to evade harm by pushing it with her magic. The repelling force slowed the oversized bug drastically and provided her the perfect opportunity to stab it in the face. Still, the number of fatalities remained at net-zero.


    One of the uninjured simians dove at her from behind, while she was preoccupied, and drove its forehead straight into her spine. It was an impressive tackle, backed by all the speed the bug could muster, but it didn¡¯t hurt nearly as much as the halfbreed had expected. The insect was no heavier than a large leather ball; she hadn¡¯t even been knocked off her feet.


    Spinning around, Claire drew her mace and smashed it into her assailant¡¯s back. This time, she didn¡¯t stop attacking, even when she saw its guts spew from its splintered carapace. She landed three hits into its torso, swatted its partners away, and whacked it another five times before finally backing off and taking a look at her handiwork. All but one of its legs were broken, its wings were dismembered, and its skull was caved in. Not even its tail had escaped her wrath. It was unmoving, bent three different ways in three different places. But somehow, it was still alive. The monkey was still hooting and using its sole uninjured leg to slowly push itself towards her.


    Annoyed, she turned her attention back to the other three pseudo-primates, who had suddenly disengaged for reasons unknown. They were no longer anywhere near her. All three of them were hovering around at about a dozen meters away, hooting angrily. For a moment, she thought herself the cause of their alarm, but straining her ears proved her suspicions wrong. There was a quiet whirring sound, a high pitched shrill tone, stemming from the beetle whose body had fused with the ground.


    Lowering her gaze and furrowing her brow, she stared at the corpse, which had quickly started to inflate. By the fifth second, the once-squashed bug was already as round as a balloon. A flame appeared at the tip of its tail once the swelling was complete. Fueled by the flesh, the conflagration moved its way down the appendage with gusto. The rogue was unsure of the fire¡¯s significance, but a sense of impending doom led her to magically push the bug as far away as she could.


    The beetle¡¯s body exploded soon after colliding with a tree. A bright yellow fluid violently burst from within its body and began eating away at everything in its immediate vicinity. The trees sizzled as their trunks were burned through while the flowers and grasses were outright destroyed. Even the water seemed to suffer some sort of damage, as it would bubble uncontrollably wherever the two liquids touched.


    Log Entry 864


    You have slain a level 20 borrok.


    This feat has earned you 1 point of dexterity.


    Log Entry 865


    You have unlocked a new spawnable food item.


    Log Entry 866


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Force Mage, has reached level 2.


    You have gained 4 ability points.


    It was only then, after the explosion, that she received the notification, read to her in a resounding but monotone voice.


    What just happened? She was, of course, well aware of the course of events¡ªthe bug had detonated and filled its surroundings some sort of corrosive material in the process¡ªbut she didn¡¯t understand how the bug had survived for so long, or why it had managed a last ditch attack with its whole body smashed to bits.


    The remaining three bugs didn¡¯t give her a chance to mull it over. They resumed attacking shortly after the explosion, but she had little trouble warding them off. Force magic trivialized the encounter. She was able to draw them into her swings and delay their attacks by pushing back against them when they charged. Overcoming her lack of coordination was the only difficulty she experienced. Swinging her club with one hand while pulling a bug towards her with the other was awkward and she nearly tripped over her own feet both times she tried it.


    It didn¡¯t take long for a second borrok to swell. Like the first, it didn¡¯t begin the detonation process until she completely destroyed its body and reduced it to a state where it could barely move. This time, she was ready, so she waited until the last second before sending it straight into one of its friends. The detonation melted the third monkey¡¯s flesh, completely destroying its head and half its body.


    Log Entry 867


    You have slain a level 22 borrok.


    Log Entry 868


    Dagger Mastery has reached level 8.


    But even then, what remained of it ballooned. It somehow took on the same round shape as all the others as its tail caught fire. Not that it mattered. Claire abused the third bomb the exact same way she abused the second and launched it straight into its final ally, which of course also detonated post mortem.


    Log Entry 869


    You have slain a level 17 borrok.


    Log Entry 870


    You have slain a level 24 borrok.


    Log Entry 871


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Force Mage, has reached level 3.


    You have gained 4 ability points.


    Log Entry 872


    Basic Force Manipulation has reached level 5.


    Once everything was dead, the force mage began moving to inspect the piece of metal that the monsters had gathered around. Or at least she tried. A series of distant splashes drew her attention before she could investigate. There were too many sets of footsteps for her to pick out the individuals from the group, but she was able to note that their members were all of different sizes. The occasional baritone shout was mixed in with the otherwise voiceless stampede. It was infrequent, at first, with its owner only saying a few things here and there, but he began barking out orders in abundance as they neared the halfbreed¡¯s location.


    ¡°Stay together! We don¡¯t know how many of them there are and the mirewulf might still be around!¡±


    A mirewulf? Aren''t those only supposed to come out at night?


    ¡°Round up any stray borroks as soon as you can. Don¡¯t let any of them get away! We don¡¯t need them on high alert!¡±


    Claire was tempted to hide and observe the group to glean what knowledge she could, but she was fairly confident that doing so would lead to her exposure. There was nowhere for her to hide. The bushes were too short to serve as cover; they could spot her with ease if they so much as glanced in her direction. And that was assuming they didn¡¯t have any skills to further reduce the amount of effort required.


    Quietly as she could, she retreated from the area and headed straight for the horn. Her eyes stayed focused on it throughout her journey. Scouring the structure for alternate entrances proved fruitless. Its windows were like the treehouse¡¯s, drawn in ink atop the stony surface. If she wanted to enter, she was going to need to go straight through the heavily guarded front door.


    Roughly two dozen borroks hovered around it. Some stood still, right by the hole that was the entrance, while others marched back and forth along the horn¡¯s length. Most of the guards were upside down, with only a third remaining on her side of the world. Both partitions featured some sort of mutant or ascended variant, a larger specimen with a shinier shell and a horn that was nearly the full length of its abdomen. Their wings were reinforced with an extra layer of protection, a dull blue layer of magic.


    If she wanted to get inside the horn, she was going to need to find a way to get past it. And it turned out she just so happened to have one in mind; violence was always the answer.


    But first things first, she was going to need some sort of disguise.

 Chapter 42 - Close Encounters of the Barely Intelligible

    Chapter 42 - Close Encounters of the Barely Intelligible


    A conspicuously large bush three times the height of every other shrub tiptoed its way over to the edge of the world. It¡ªshe¡ªapproached the horn laterally, skirting the line where everything but the stony structure ceased to exist.


    Casting her gaze into the void nearly put a smile on her face. It reminded her of home, of the countless times her mother had rebuked her for getting too close to the manor¡¯s edge, and of the way it felt for the wind to lift her hair while her legs dangled above the cloudy skies. But at the same time, it was wrong. The backdrop was too empty. There was nothing, no matter where she looked. No mountain ranges, no oceans, and no faraway cities could be seen on the horizon, regardless of how hard she squinted. She couldn¡¯t even find the sun, despite its rays falling directly upon her face. It was almost like every direction was up, like Borrok Peak and Mirewood Marsh were the only two places in the whole wide world.


    What happens if I fall?


    Making a mental note of the idea, she snuck her way over to the horn¡¯s only entrance and drew one of her antlers. For the next few minutes, she did nothing but sit still. Her heart would skip a beat every single time the patrols reached her, but she soon concluded that her concerns were needless. Not a single one of the dimwitted creatures was able to see through her disguise.


    Log Entry 873


    Sneaking has reached level 10.


    She waited until the upside down patrol was on the far side of the rusted stone structure, striking only once she was sure all the borroks had their eyes turned away. The halfbreed paralyzed one of the bug-monkeys patrolling the forest floor and reeled it in with her magic. She held its mouth shut and jabbed her blade into its throat while its nerves were still numb. Twisting the bone to and fro, she wrecked the creature¡¯s vocal chords and silenced it before its voice could reach its allies. Once she was sure the borrok was mute, she moved her blade from its neck into its carapace, destroyed its wings, and tossed it over the edge.


    The cat-monkey tried its hardest to surmount the forces of gravity, but it was unable to regain any of the height it lost, no matter how wildly it flailed its limbs. It shrunk rapidly, remaining visible only because it was the sole speck of black in a sea of blues and whites.


    Another colour was added to the mix right as Claire was about to turn away. There was a faint flash of red, with the darkened insect as its origin. And then, nothing. Both the foreign hues were removed, purged from the freshly cleaned canvas.


    Log Entry 874


    You have slain a level 21 borrok.


    Log Entry 875


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Rogue, has reached level 35.


    You have gained 2 ability points.


    Her ears fluttered in shock as a small smile crossed her lips. The sky wasn¡¯t just an infinite expanse filled with clouds and air. It was a death pit, a death pit that the murder-happy halfbreed could easily use to her advantage.


    ___


    Claire was worried that the borroks would catch on if she continued to trim down their numbers, but repeating the process proved that her concern was, once again, wasted. Two hours and eight fatalities later, the forest floor was clear, completely deprived of all wandering guards. Not even the gilded borrok, which had turned out to be nothing more than an older, higher leveled individual, had put up much of a fight. Like all of the others, it had been dispatched in a matter of moments and cast into the void.


    The guards charged with protecting the doorway were more difficult to remove. Tossing them overboard wasn¡¯t an option. They were too far from the abyss; they were sure to regain control before she could punt them over the edge. Not that she had to. Changing her approach provided the halfbreed with a perfect solution. She threw a rock at a nearby tree and snuck past them while their attention was directed elsewhere.


    From the outside, the interior had appeared bland and boring, a plain, dark cave etched into the side of the horn-like mountain. But everything changed as she stepped through its mouth. The world began to distort the exact same way it had when she first approached the high security area. Walking into the light at the end of the tunnel revealed an environment far larger than any the iron spiral could have possibly contained.


    Biting winter winds assailed her as she gazed upon a white mountain. A distant snowy peak glimmered off in the distance, beneath the light of a crescent moon. Evergreen pines could be seen growing in patches, sparser in some places and denser in others. Countless stars shone upon the landscape, dotting the night with distant clouds of purple and blue. A particularly bright line of heavenly bodies formed a trail in the sky, stretching from one distant horizon to the next.


    Shivers ran down Claire¡¯s spine as she pulled her ears inside her cloak and brought her arms to her shoulders. Her mantle wasn¡¯t thick enough to keep out the cold. While the stains that covered it didn¡¯t immediately freeze, it would only be a matter of time before the bloodsoaked garment was transformed into a sheet of ice. Worse yet was the halfbreed¡¯s newfound lack of motivation. Waves of lethargy hit her one after another, urging her to build a fort out of blankets and sleep her way through the winter. The mountain¡¯s size was just as discouraging as her physiology. It looked too tall for her to climb in a week¡ªif she was going to be able to climb it at all.


    There was no telling where her targets were. She didn¡¯t even know how the sentinel and lifegiver were supposed to be any different from all the other borroks. The best choice at hand was to kill all the unique looking enemies she happened to come across. An untenable approach at best.


    Are they important? Will they come out if I make enough trouble?


    The approach hadn¡¯t exactly worked when she tried it with the veabers, but the halfbreed was convinced that all would be fine so long as the borroks didn¡¯t also ignore the knives she stuck in their faces.


    Stupid veabers¡­


    Still grumbling about an event that had clearly never happened, Claire turned around to check the doorway she had come through.


    Only to find it missing.


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    The space behind her was empty. The ground suddenly ended, much like it had outside.


    ¡°I can¡¯t leave?¡±


    Another groan escaped her as she turned back around and started to make her way up the mountain. Unlike the horn, the oversized hill was fully formed right off the bat. Random bits and pieces didn¡¯t suddenly get added to it, and it didn¡¯t grow as she climbed its slope. But that was the only aspect that even came close to appreciable.


    Her toes were practically frozen by the time she made it to the first tree. Snow was getting underneath her scales and her lungs were screaming in agony. They were ill suited to the cold mountain air. She wanted to breathe deeply to accommodate the surprisingly strenuous effort that was wading through the knee-deep banks, but slow shallow breaths were the only ones that didn¡¯t hurt.


    Leaning against a pine, she cupped both hands around her mouth and looked around for anything that could help her warm up. And found nothing. The only animals nearby were squirrels and small birds. None of them had pelts thick enough to keep her warm.


    I really wish I knew fire magic.


    The trees were the only potential source of heat she could find, but processing them was outside her realm of expertise. Keeping an eye out, however, did eventually lead to a clue. Three and a half breaks later, she came across two sets of hoofprints, the same tracks that she had seen in the marsh. Following the trail, Claire tried to minimize the amount of stamina she needed to expend by placing her feet within the indents left by the centaurs, but soon found it not worth the effort. Hopping between the holes took more energy than pushing her way through the cold silvery blanket.


    She found several small groups of borroks moving through the mountains, but she avoided every encounter, veering off course if necessary; the rogue wasn¡¯t looking to pick any fights while she was still unadjusted to the cold. Another few dozen minutes of walking led her to a more gentle slope with a series of caverns adorning the cliff face that lay beside them. The hoofprints steered away from the caves, but Claire found herself doing the exact opposite. One of them had caught her attention, its interior illuminated by a flickering orange glow.


    A source of heat.


    She approached it cautiously, hugging the wall as she snuck up on the humanoid shadow projecting onto the snow that decorated its entrance. Peering inside, she spotted a being made almost entirely of fur. Its colouring was not too different from hers, white with a tinge of blue. But that was where their similarities ended.


    Unlike the halfbreed, the giant wasn¡¯t shivering in its nonexistent boots. She couldn¡¯t see its face underneath its silvery coat, but she doubted that it was any different from its hands, both of which were fully encased in fur. Even its palms were invisible.


    Claire gulped as she reached for her mace. She didn¡¯t know what it was, but she knew it was the solution she needed. Its skin would serve to protect her from the harsh winter winds. But she didn¡¯t get the chance to strike. It turned around as she neared it and revealed that its face was everything she had expected. The only feature she could make out was a single colossal eye as wide as her forearm was long.


    ¡°You, visitor? Visitor, sit.¡± The cyclops grunted as it gestured towards an icy bench by the fire. It spoke Marish, the common tongue, but its accent was thick and difficult to understand.


    She hesitated. Her heart was still pounding from the would-be assassination attempt and she had many a doubt as to whether approaching the round-eye was safe. But after a moment of silence, she pulled her hand away from her weapon and moved towards the flame.


    Looking around the firelit cave provided the impression that it was the hairy man¡¯s home. Several pieces of furniture, chairs, benches, and tables, were strewn throughout. Their designs were haphazard, but one thing was constant. They were all made of ice. There were a few furs present as well, stashed away in one of the far off corners. The firepit that was at the centre of the room was stacked with fresh wood, and a whole tree was positioned beside it. There was even a pot, filled with a murky red liquid. A bone in the shape of a large horse-like skull poked out from within. An ill omen, to say the least.


    With a gulp, Claire took the seat she had been pointed to and looked up at the towering yeti. It was almost exactly double her height, a little more if the crystalline horn sticking out of its forehead was to be considered.


    She could feel her feet thawing as the flames tickled her toes and breathed life back into her flesh, but she was still uncomfortable. The giant loomed right over her like a watchful hound. She nearly jumped out of her skin when it raised one of its hands and cast a spell. If his hand had drawn any closer, the rogue would have drawn her dagger and attacked.


    The tension drained from her as the yeti completed its spell, forming a bowl atop its furry paw. The icy frame almost looked to be made of glass, with the cold air it radiated the only testament to its material.


    ¡°Visitor, eat?¡±


    The cyclops dipped the bowl inside its pot and presented it to her. The retching scent that spewed from the vessel directed her attention towards the single large eye that lay within, the eye that looked suspiciously similar to the furry creature¡¯s.


    Against her own better judgement, the halfbreed refused, shaking her head as calmly as she could. She knew it was risky. Among some of the less developed but supposedly intelligent races, like the lizardmen of Tal¡¯ihir, refusing kindness was no different from declaring open hostilities. But much to Claire¡¯s relief, the bear-like humanoid did not subscribe to that particular philosophy. It spent a moment eyeing her suspiciously, but soon relented and returned the stew to the pot, bowl and all.


    ¡°Me, hunter. What, you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just passing through.¡±


    ¡°Pass, here? Mountain, nothing. Borrok, only.¡±


    It snorted as it leaned forward and set its arms down on its legs.


    ¡°I¡¯m here for the borroks.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Visitor, borrok, kill. Visitor, friend.¡±


    The one-eyed beast smiled with its eyelids; both the top and bottom ones came together to form an upwards curve shaped like a short stout U. Claire didn¡¯t quite understand the gesture, but got the gist that it was a friendly one. She breathed a sigh, activated her authority skill, and summoned a meal as the feeling slowly returned to her fingertips.


    One hesitant bite after another, she began working her way through the vegetables accompanying the fried frog wings. The dish was still disgusting, courtesy of its tastelessness, but stale bread wasn¡¯t going to cut it. She needed something nice and toasty to warm her up from within.


    Though the food kept her occupied, it was a far cry from demanding her attention. She soon realized that the giant¡¯s single eye was fixed upon her.


    Does it want some? The force mage glanced between the dish and the cyclops before picking up a wing and offering it. I¡¯m not eating it anyway.


    She expected the one-eyed beast to gleefully accept the present. But she was wrong. Visible puffs of air spewed out of its single nostril, kicking up its fur, as its eye turned bloodshot; it was about as far from happy as she was from home.


    ¡°You, sorry!¡± it snarled. ¡°Me, hunter! You, visitor! Hunter, me!¡±


    She had to drop the dish to back off as it stomped up to her. It didn¡¯t care about anything between them. One of its legs smashed into the pot, kicking it aside and splattering its contents all over the frozen cave, while its other tore through one of the benches. Before long, it had her with her back against the wall. Its tall frame shook with every breath it took. Its big fuzzy hands were balled into fists and its gaping maw was dripping with foam and slobber.


    What¡¯s wrong with him?


    It wasn''t as if Claire had no idea what had set the yeti off, but his half-intelligible rambling made it difficult for her to interject or confirm her suspicions.


    ¡°No! No, no, no! Hunter, no you! Hunter, me!¡±


    It lashed out at her, throwing a punch that she barely managed to dodge. With a roll of the eyes, the halfbreed darted between its legs and drew her weapons. One way or another, the situation had devolved into violence. But she didn¡¯t particularly mind.


    If a fight was what the creature wanted, then a fight was exactly what it would get. She still did want its pelt, after all.

 Chapter 43 - Close Encounters of the Barely Intelligible II

    Chapter 43 - Close Encounters of the Barely Intelligible II


    Claire engaged the yeti with a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other. The specific choice of weaponry was far from intentional¡ªshe had just grabbed whatever was nearest her hands. A lack of time had kept her from making any choices.


    Spinning around, the one-eyed gorilla slashed at her with a sharpened icicle it crafted on the fly. The weapon was long and jagged, a tiny knife by the cyclops¡¯ standards, but a full-blown longsword by the rogue¡¯s. Claire thrusted at the blade with her dagger, meeting it before it could cause any harm. Her weapon was shoddy, but it remained far superior to the brittle medium her foe had leveraged. The ice broke upon contact, shattering into a thousand shards that vanished before they so much as touched the ground.


    But she was still sent flying.


    The force of the blow knocked her off her feet and threw her out of the cave. She landed over a dozen meters away, inside a bank of snow. Cold and draining as it was, the soft powdery substance had proven itself helpful. Its presence kept her relatively uninjured; she would have been battered and bruised had she landed on anything harder.


    The cyclops tried leaping at her and crushing her underfoot, but Claire got to her feet and darted out of the way before it landed. Making use of her agility, she slashed at one of its legs as it passed her by, but the attack proved pointless. Its fur was too thick. All the dense hair between her blade and its skin dulled the blow. She wasn¡¯t even able to draw blood, despite putting her back into the one-handed strike.


    It retaliated with its other leg, lifting the limb and kicking backwards like a horse. The motion was faster and more dexterous than anything she would have expected from a creature with such a massive frame, but it didn¡¯t catch her off guard. Durham had delivered a thousand similar blows during her lessons. And though she had hardly taken his advice to heart, she knew how she was supposed to react.


    Ducking underneath the attack, she bashed the butt of her dagger straight into the yeti¡¯s shin. Again, no blood was drawn, but a howl of pain erupted from the creature¡¯s throat either way. The stimulus caused its leg to lurch forward with an uncontrolled, haphazard spasm.


    Another opportunity.


    Claire pushed with her knees and thrust her antler straight up into the primate¡¯s loins. It wasn¡¯t a fatal blow, but it was painful enough to provide her the opportunity to retreat. Or at least it should have been.


    Contrary to her expectations, the yeti didn¡¯t keel. It shrugged off its second injury and caught her with a sideways kick before she could back away. Claire was able to cross her arms just in time to stop the blow from destroying her unprotected gut, but she didn¡¯t come out unscathed. She was sent flying into a tree. The pine¡¯s frozen needles pricked her and its jagged wooden branches tore into her back, shredding her garments and rending her flesh. Her scales were no better off. A handful of them were torn from their places, their roots filled instead with splinters.


    The pain made her wince, but she didn¡¯t have time to bitch or moan. The halfbreed hurried to her feet, and just in time. No sooner had she relocated than an overhead slash landed where she had been. Her arms were still numb from the impact, but she managed to meet its next attempt on her life head on.


    Again, their weapons collided. And again, the ice gave way to the bone. It happened once, twice, thrice. The yeti¡¯s blade broke every time, but still, the rogue was unable to make anything out of the exchange. Its attacks were too heavy. Her arms were knocked back after every clash, even when she braced herself against the tree supporting her spine.


    The situation was looking bleak at best. She couldn¡¯t follow through on any would be advantages and her feet sank deeper and deeper into the snow every time she parried.


    Her only saving grace was the cyclops¡¯ lack of intellect. Claire darted between its legs during one of its wind ups and made some distance between them. Glancing at her own weapons elicited a grumble. Her dagger was fine, chipped, but still usable. But her antler was on the verge of being reduced to rubbish. The fragile bone had once again proven its lack of durability; it was already starting to crack and break apart, despite its status as a recent acquisition.


    Not knowing how much longer it would last, the rogue decided to discard it. She coated the weapon in a layer of quicksilver and threw it as soon as the monster turned to face her. To nobody¡¯s surprise, the attack went nowhere. The cyclops swatted the sword away with a flick of its wrist and flung it into the snow behind it.


    It was a dismissive, discouraging display, but Claire remained unwavering. She didn¡¯t care that the creature had an infinite supply of weapons, nor that trading blows with it hadn¡¯t worked in her favour. She was still the one to initiate the next set of exchanges. The cold was eating away at her, and the yeti was her solution.


    Kicking off the snow, she dashed straight at her three-meter-tall opponent. A quick hop to the right allowed her to evade a stab, while weaving to the left let her dodge another. She coated her dagger with rocket fuel as she drew near its eye and lunged with the weapon held in a reverse grip.


    But the critical weakness never entered her range. The cyclopean sasquatch reeled its head back right as she swung and nearly caught her dead on with the headbutt that followed; she would have been impaled by its crystalline horn had she failed to parry it with her blade. Claire tumbled through the air and landed on her feet, but she wasn¡¯t quick enough to recover. Her foe was already upon her and she was once again stuck parrying blow after blow. She could feel her arms creaking and her hips screaming as the shock of every strike coursed through her body. And with no tree to support her, she lost ground after each attack. Slowly but surely, she was being pushed back, all the way to the woodland.


    Adding to the problem was the primate¡¯s ability to learn. It was holding its legs much closer together¡ªthere was no longer any room for her to slip through them. Had they been in a less tiring environment, Claire would have been able to hop right over the beast¡¯s head mid dodge, but the snow was weighing her down. She couldn¡¯t quite get the footing she needed and the cold was sapping her strength.


    An idea came to her right as her dagger shattered, inspired by the glimmering of the quicksilver that had adorned it. Eyes darting around, she managed to locate and pull on the half-broken antler the cyclops had knocked away. The weapon whistled through the air and flew straight into the cyclops¡¯ back. The mercury-coated blade ripped through fur and muscle alike, stopping only when its tip emerged from the other end of the yeti¡¯s body. But again, the beast didn¡¯t falter. It remained completely unaffected by the quicksilver forcibly injected into its system.


    She ducked under a sidelong blow that came from just outside her peripheral vision, but not quickly enough. The yeti¡¯s blade cut deeply, drawing a fresh tide of crimson. For a moment, the halfbreed worried about the potential blood loss, but her concerns were soon redirected. A thick layer of ice spread from the incision on her forearm, encasing everything from her fingers to her elbow.


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    The bizarre wound distracted her. She was so caught up in figuring it out that she failed to notice a second attack, a kick that nailed her right in the gut. The heavy blow sent her flying into the forest. This time, Claire was luckier. She missed the trees and landed on a fresh patch of snow.


    She didn¡¯t get up right away. She couldn¡¯t. Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron, and her stomach was screaming at her like no tomorrow. Her brain was on fire. Every single nerve in her abdomen was firing off a thousand distress signals. Somehow, after a countless number of futile attempts, she was able to muster enough willpower to wrench her attention away from her gut. Unlike her insides, her arm wasn¡¯t in pain. But that, if anything, was more of a concern than it was a sign of relief. She couldn¡¯t feel or move it at all. It was almost like it wasn¡¯t there. Her upper arm wasn¡¯t faring much better. It wasn¡¯t frozen, like its bottom half, but it too was robbed of almost all sensation. She could barely feel anything when she prodded at it, even as its flesh swelled and darkened.


    A scowl crossed her lips. It wasn¡¯t the worst injury she¡¯d experienced in the past few days, but it was definitely among the top five.


    ¡°Why is it always my left arm?¡± Claire grumbled as she rose from her slumped position, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process.


    Her head was spinning and her eyes were blurry. They didn¡¯t clear up, no matter how many times she blinked. But even with her sight distorted, she could easily make out the cyclops. The towering brute was pushing its way through the trees, approaching in near silence. Any branches too inconvenient to displace were cut apart, split in half by the blade it had in hand. Strangely, none of the wood reacted like her arm. It all remained exactly as it was, untouched by frostbite.


    Claire re-evaluated the situation as she slowly pushed herself off the ground. Her club was far more durable than any of her other weapons, but even it was sure to break if she continued to smash it against the gorilla¡¯s blades. The one-eyed ape¡¯s weapons would continue to reform so long as it had mana, and she wasn¡¯t about to place any bets on her ability to drain its supply. The spell didn¡¯t seem particularly expensive nor did its caster appear the slightest bit concerned by the number of times it had used it.


    Wiping the crimson drool off her lips, Claire reached for her remaining sword, only to stop halfway in favour of taking up a weaponless stance. She already knew that drawing the weapon would get her nowhere. Unlike all the other monsters she had fought, the yeti wasn¡¯t mindless. It knew how to use its daggers, and in a sense, it was precisely what Durham had tried to train her to fight. Tried.


    A faint smile crossed her lips as she prepared to intercept. Her instructor had taught her nothing. But she had, over the course of many long years, figured out everything that got under his skin, every possible way to catch him off guard with some sort of underhanded trick. And she was starting to think that it was precisely those skills that would bail her out of the precarious situation she found herself in.


    The rogue took a deep breath, leapt to the side right as the giant stepped forward, and prepared to attack. Unperturbed, the cyclops followed her intently and raised its weapon overhead. There was a brief window where it obscured its own vision with its bulky, hair-covered arm.


    That was the moment she put her plan into action.


    Expelling all of the air she held in her lungs, the half lamia spat. A stream of blood and saliva flew straight towards the furry beast¡¯s eye, landing right on target before it could react. No damage would have been done if the two liquids were the only things present, hence why she had also thrown a surprise into the mix.


    It was a fang, a fang she tore out with her tongue.


    Unlike her mother, Claire didn¡¯t have any venom glands, but she was able to compensate by coating it with a layer of rocket fuel.


    For once, the yeti recoiled. She had finally hit it where it hurt. The force mage pushed her advantage. Using her magic, she shoved the fang deeper and deeper before suddenly pulling on it as she moved. The process was repeated tenfold. Over and over, the yeti suffered as its eye was shredded by a large jagged tooth.


    Her foe didn¡¯t just sit around as she tormented it. It flailed with its blade, stabbing at where she had been before she sealed its sight. But it didn¡¯t hit her. She had already moved a whole ten meters away, just barely within range of her most reliable spell. It tried moving around, but chasing her was far from beneficial. All it managed to do was give the halfbreed an infinite number of ways to explore the inside of its eye socket. Fifty casts of Apply Force later, the cyclops¡¯ almond-shaped organ was gone, torn to bits. It was on its knees, clutching its face and howling in what she presumed to be some sort of primitive language.


    That was when she finally approached. Mace in hand, she smashed the weapon into its neck full force. It didn¡¯t break after the first hit, nor after the second, but Claire didn¡¯t lose heart. She continued whacking at its spine with every last bit of strength she could muster. Until she suddenly couldn¡¯t.


    A fist smashed into her shoulder and sent her flying. The force of the blow shattered her arm instantly. Agony coursed through her system. She could feel every splintered bone, each broken fragment digging its way into her flesh. But she didn¡¯t scream. She couldn¡¯t. The attack had winded her; there was no air left in her lungs to scream with.


    Breathing tortured her, and not just because of the cold. Blood was dripping from her lips with no signs of stopping. And from her nose as well, despite its otherwise perfect condition.


    She tried to raise her arm, but the limb wouldn¡¯t respond. It continued to do nothing but hang limply at her side, no matter how desperately she tried to move it.


    The blinded beast started stumbling in her direction. She didn¡¯t know how it suddenly knew where she was, but it was headed straight for her, screeching as it grew closer and closer. She managed to force her body to rise, but she couldn¡¯t run, at least not at any notable speed. Her inability to move her arms was throwing her off balance.


    Clenching her jaws, Claire put her magic to work. The mace that had fallen several meters behind her flew forwards and propelled itself into the yeti¡¯s neck, followed shortly by the blades hanging off her waist and thighs. She shot them towards all the weak points her Dagger Mastery had informed her of, the various important organs scattered throughout its frame. She even manipulated the blade already embedded in its chest, pushing it back and forth to spread the quicksilver. Soon, the yeti¡¯s once white fur was covered in nothing but red. Still, the fuzzy, large-footed creature didn¡¯t stop. The only thing that was able to momentarily halt its advance was a full force Paralyzing Gaze.


    She thought of injecting it with a dose of soarspore poison, but she wasn¡¯t able to get ahold of any of her weapons. Pulling them towards her brought them to her dysfunctional hands, and all that amounted to was a load of nothing. But she did eventually find a thin looking branch on a nearby tree. The halfbreed bit down on it, tore it off, and coated it in a layer of the fruitiest poison at her disposal while she held it in her mouth.


    The prickly stick flew off in a random haphazard direction when she first launched it, but a quick magical tweak readjusted its trajectory and sent it straight into one of the furry creature¡¯s open wounds. The toxin forced a series of constant sneezes, but the monster was undeterred. It kept moving, advancing on her with its icy weapon in hand.


    Its lack of sight made its attacks easy to dodge, even with her body feeling as sluggish as a rock. After evading a particularly big swing, Claire kicked the back of its wrist, loosened its grip, and turned its blade upon itself with a spell. The sharp icicle began flying straight towards the cyclops¡¯ face, but vanished before making it all the way. Unfortunate, but not the end of the world.


    The next thing she manipulated was its horn, which had been broken off by several repeated clubs to the face. She rammed it into its shoulder when it tried to punch her and neutralized the attack by robbing it of its momentum.


    With a pained grunt, she leapt onto its head and started stomping at its neck. She enhanced the brutal attacks by jumping as high as she could and magically accelerating her feet as she descended. She was the axe, the axe that served as the cyclops¡¯ executioner.


    Three stomps and two magical club strikes later, there was a resounding crack.


    The battle was finally over.

 Chapter 44 - Close Encounters of the Barely Intelligible III

    Chapter 44 - Close Encounters of the Barely Intelligible III


    An unnatural sense of comfort and warmth pulsed through Claire¡¯s body. It originated in her core and spread evenly through the rest of her frame, restoring her to full health. The ice on her left arm melted and all sensation returned while its mirrored counterpart snapped back into place. The scattered fragments that made up her broken ribs wriggled through her flesh, returned to their rightful positions, and painlessly pieced themselves back together. For a moment, a very brief moment, it no longer hurt to breathe, but the freezing winds soon restored the status quo. A sign for her to get to work.


    ¡°I hate winter. Why does it have to be so cold?¡±


    A series of begrudging groans escaped her as she waded over to the yeti¡¯s corpse. Most of the fur was ruined. It was punctured in a thousand places and stained a deep crimson. The latter problem was easily solved¡ªall she had to do was rub it in the snow to clean it¡ªbut the former was not. A coat with an irreparable number of holes in it was hardly any better than no coat at all.


    Only the beast¡¯s legs were in a remotely harvestable state. Its lower half was still covered in blood, and some of the hair was torn and frazzled, but it looked like it could be salvaged. Most of her attacks had been aimed at its core, where its vitals were gathered.


    She tried removing one of the girthy limbs with her dagger, but slashing at it wasn¡¯t working. She couldn¡¯t get through the fur unless she switched to stabbing, which to nobody¡¯s surprise, didn¡¯t work too well. The leg was thicker than her torso. She was going to need something longer than a dagger.


    Looking around provided an alternative in the form of the beast¡¯s horn. Its jagged appearance gave the impression that it was more than sharp enough for the job, and technically, it was. But there were two sides to every coin.


    Handling the crystalline appendage proved surprisingly difficult. It would slip out of her grasp if she didn¡¯t hold it tight and its handleless double-edged form made it impossible for her to grip it without cutting herself. Permanently solving the problem required making the shiv a shaft, but her magic provided an equally effective temporary solution. Pushing and pulling on the knife like a saw allowed her to slowly but surely sever the limb.


    Once the leg was detached and the horn jabbed inside it for safekeeping, Claire headed back to the one-eyed monster¡¯s abode. She was pleasantly surprised to find that the fire was still going and that the cave had remained much warmer than the outside. Taking a few deep breaths to rid her lungs of the arctic winds, she abandoned the yeti¡¯s limb just outside the entrance and sat next to the crackling flame. She spent a few moments yawning, stretching, and settling down before popping open her log and absent-mindedly listening along as the unnamed goddess listed off her newest notifications.


    Log Entry 886


    Basic Force Manipulation has reached level 6.


    Log Entry 887


    Envenom has reached level 11.


    Log Entry 888


    You have slain a level 37 Iceborn Llystletein Watcher.


    This feat has earned you the following bonuses:


    - 6 points of agility


    - 1 point of dexterity


    - 5 points of spirit


    - 2 points of strength


    - 6 points of vitality


    - 9 points of wisdom


    Llystletein with another modifier? No wonder it was so strong.


    Log Entry 889


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Halfbreed, has reached level 28.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Rogue, has reached level 38.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Force Mage, has reached level 9.


    You have gained 40 ability points.


    Halfbreed gained 3 whole levels¡­ but Rogue and Force Mage both gained fewer than I was expecting. Isn¡¯t it usually the other way around?


    Log Entry 890


    You have unlocked a new spawnable food item.


    Log Entry 891


    Achievement Unlocked ¡ª Cadrian Diplomacy


    You have somehow managed to transform a peaceful cultural exchange into a display of barbarism and violence. The makings of a true Cadrian diplomat run through your veins.


    Oh, shut up Box. I have nothing to do with Cadria anymore. My father already disowned me.


    Log Entry 892


    Basic Force Manipulation has reached level 7.


    Log Entry 893


    Makeshift Weapon Mastery has reached level 10.


    Log Entry 894


    Paralyzing Gaze has reached level 3.


    Log Entry 895


    Unarmed Combat Mastery has reached level 6.


    Is that all of them?


    Yawning again, Claire combined the fire with the log beside it, crawled over to a corner, and tucked herself in under a thick pile of furs. Her consciousness grew hazy as she prepared to sleep. But the land of dreams eluded her. Just thirty seconds later, her eyes shot wide open. A sudden wave of lucidity splashed over her like a bucket of cold water.


    ¡°You killed him.¡±


    ¡°Shouldersnake?¡± she groaned. ¡°What is it this time?¡±


    ¡°I wanted to kill him.¡±


    ¡°And he¡¯s dead. What¡¯s the problem?¡±


    ¡°The problem, Claire, is that you¡¯re not letting me kill things!¡±


    ¡°Not my problem.¡±


    ¡°You know what else would¡¯ve been not your problem?¡± The snake paused dramatically as it scratched the underside of its chin with its tail. ¡°Oh, I know! The watcher! Wow!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± Claire rolled her eyes.


    ¡°Well I do!¡±


    The rogue gave the scaly apparition the least amused stare she could muster as she put on a display of lifting her hand to her shoulder.


    ¡°I sense conflict!¡±


    But a third voice, identical to the other two, joined the conversation before she could wave her self-proclaimed guardian spirit away.


    Trumpets blared and feathers fell from the sky like pieces of confetti as a tiny red carpet rolled out thin air. It extended from a ball of light that appeared directly in front of her and ended right where her collarbone met her right arm. Down the aisle came a palm sized pony with a disproportionately large head, a body half as long, and four tiny legs, each a third the length of its neck.


    ¡°And there is no better person to solve it but I, the magnanimous, charming, and ever elusive Shoulderhorse!¡±


    ¡°Oh, great... You¡¯re back.¡± Claire sighed.


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    ¡°Where the hell have you been this past week?¡± asked the snake.


    ¡°I was busy, of course.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you should have stayed busy. We don¡¯t want you here,¡± hissed the danger noodle.


    ¡°Oh, you silly thing. We all know you¡¯re just saying that¡­¡± said the horse with a snort.


    ¡°I¡¯m not ¡®just saying¡¯ anything. We both hate you.¡±


    ¡°Please, we all know that there is no way you could possibly hate someone as intelligent and beautiful as I.¡±


    The contest of words droned on in the background, but Claire paid it no mind. Its volume fell each time the speaker changed, each time her consciousness took a step towards the void.


    ¡°Well we do. Now get out of here, you stupid pony. I¡¯m trying to talk to Claire.¡±


    ¡°Why, I don¡¯t see why I should be the one to leave. Clearly the two of you should relocate instead.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t even make sense. See, this is why we hate you. You¡¯re dumb and an asshole.¡±


    Like leaves in the wind, the voices drifted, further and further away.


    ¡°I believe, fellow shoulder beast, that the correct term is horsehole. I am not a donkey.¡±


    ¡°Where do I even start with you?¡± groaned the serpent.


    ¡°With worship, of cour...¡±


    ¡°Abs... no¡­¡±


    Before long, they faded completely, leaving her with peace, quiet, and an overhead view of the mansion she had lived in just a week prior.


    Again? Why is this happening so often?


    She shook her head as she descended through the clouds. Down and forwards she went, closing in on the distant manor. There weren¡¯t actually any footholds, but each step she took brought her closer, as would an invisible staircase.


    Casting her gaze over the horizon provided a familiar set of sights, landmarks she was almost starting to dearly miss. The Langgbjern Mountains, a set of cliffs and peaks that reached nearly as high as the capital¡¯s keystones, lay to the north. Though the occasional city dotted the range¡¯s base, her former countrymen laid no claim to the Langgbjerns themselves. No one did. They were too hazardous, filled with all sorts of creatures that no soldier ever wished to see. If the bards of old were to be trusted, there was no benefit to exploring the great peaks. The once dwarven-belt had been long conquered by freakish chimeras of bird and beast.


    To the east, there was an ocean, a glimmering sea that split Mara¡¯s people and monsters alike. Merchant vessels would often cross it, traveling from country to country, continent to continent. But intelligent life was by no means limited to the land. A countless number of societies thrived at the ocean¡¯s various depths, a series of warring states whose rulers knew of nothing but greed and glory. And yet, the Ryllain Sea was known not for its barbarism, but rather, its luxurious cuisine. The states produced the most able chefs, one of which was the manor¡¯s very own Amereth, a once masterless warrior turned confectionist extraordinaire.


    Tal¡¯ihir lay to the south. The rainforest was vast, spanning over a thousand kilometers in every direction and sporting an impressive two score and seven distinct territories, one of which had fallen under Cadrian control. Now serving under the eleven horned king, the land of the gorgons was a place of freedom no longer. Its traditions were shackled by masters that ruled it from land, sea, and sky.


    Beyond the great wood, further south of Primrose¡¯s Boundless Grove and the divine sapling it contained, was an empty unblessed desert, a land that had supposedly incurred the wrath of the gods. Even its name was taken, erased from nearly every record.


    Thinking of the barren badlands left Claire with an inexplicable itch. Something in the back of her mind seemed to scream at her, but she couldn¡¯t quite put a finger on exactly what it was. In the end, she ignored it and cast her gaze westward. The mage knew that many a nation lay beyond the plains, but Cadria was all that extended as far as the eye could see. The grasslands that the people grazed and tended to were abundant and fruitful. Golden hills upon golden hills, interrupted only by the occasional river or forest. It was a bountiful land that could not be maintained without the frequent application of violence.


    If repelling foreign nationals was not on the agenda, then it would be filled instead with culling monsters, exploring into lands untamed, and recovering riches long lost to time. At the end of the day, they were all tasks that fell upon might and magic. There existed not a single wealthy household without its own private army. The more successful a man was, the greater his forces. And that was precisely why House Augustus was commonly considered home to Cadria¡¯s finest warriors, outranked only by those in direct service to the crown.


    But that was something Claire cared little about. She didn¡¯t even glance at the heavily armoured men sparring in the courtyard. She was focused instead on the roof, where her younger self was sitting with her legs dangling and her eyes rested upon the biggest tree in the garden.


    The halfbreed smiled. It was a day she remembered vividly. In due time, she would choose to jump. And though she somehow closed the gap and stopped herself from plummeting to her doom, her father wound up scolding her nonetheless. Her mother, on the other hand, lectured her father instead. The purple-scaled lamia never did quite seem to believe that falling from a height of three stories was capable of causing any significant harm.


    Realising that the dream was a rare opportunity to see her mother¡¯s face, Claire descended upon one of the mansion¡¯s southerly verandas and entered through an open door made primarily of glass. She waltzed straight out of the guest room and through the hallway, this time, without any strange distortions to disturb her. The corridor didn¡¯t mysteriously extend, nor did she suddenly find herself losing her nerve.


    But there was still a problem.


    The door to her mother¡¯s bedroom didn¡¯t look anything like it was supposed to. It was only two meters high and just shy of one across, half as tall and a third as wide as all the others. The material didn¡¯t quite seem right either. It was painted white instead of brown and looked rougher and cheaper than the polished cherrywood used throughout the manor. Even its knob was wrong. There was only one of them situated just above her waist, far too low for most of the manor¡¯s residents to reach. Strangest of all was the way it repelled her. She felt as if she wasn¡¯t supposed to open it, like it was something she was better off ignoring. So she reached for it. She grabbed the forbidden handle and gave it an unabashed twist.


    The door didn¡¯t budge. It remained exactly where it was, completely unmoving. The halfbreed, on the other hand, was flung into motion. She was pulled straight into the keyhole, her body shrinking to a fraction of its size before being restored on the other side.


    Again, she was among the clouds. And again, a familiar man stood before her. He was different this time. There was only one of him, and he looked much older. A full length greying beard grew from his face, and his frame, which was bulkier than it had been on every other occasion, was adorned with a simpler garment than usual. Gone were the multicoloured, art-covered shirts and the grainy blue pants, replaced by a loose linen cloth wrapped around his waist. He looked so different that she didn¡¯t quite know how she managed to recognize him, let alone from behind. But she did, and easily at that.


    He turned to face her as she walked up beside him, at which point in time the grim look in his eyes turned to one of bewilderment. He raised his hands to his face and pulled at his beard as he patted at his body with his other hand.


    The man didn¡¯t calm down until everything suddenly reverted to its usual state. Clouds were replaced with tiles and walls while his frame shrank down to the size that both parties were more accustomed to seeing. His facial hair receded and his wrinkles vanished while his skirt transformed into a more typical outfit featuring an artistic rendition of a dark helmeted figure holding a luminescent red tube.


    ¡°Strange.¡±


    A bunch of silent words left his mouth, summarized in her mind as a single piece of glowing white text. He wandered about for a bit afterwards, pacing back and forth with a hand on his chin before suddenly lighting up and smacking a fist into his palm.


    One snap later, everything changed again, all at once. The scene shifted to what she presumed was the man¡¯s living room, where his less astral form was situated with its hands atop the artifact he had previously taught her to use.


    ¡°Again. This time. Easier.¡±


    Log Entry 896


    Detect Force Magic has reached level 11.


    A copy of his device appeared right in front of her as the image-projecting box suddenly lit up to once again feature the same imperceptible long-eared female. There was something different about it this time, but as she was unable to see it in any real detail, she couldn¡¯t quite make out what that something happened to be.


    When the man¡¯s physical form took action, he inputted into his mysterious wand a set of commands different from the ones he had shown her previously. The illustration didn¡¯t grab its foe this time, nor did it smash said foe into the ground neck first. But it did still jump. After leaping into the air, the representation started to dash, back and forth, without the use of any sort of foothold. Somehow, its height remained constant following each set of inputs, as if gravity suddenly ceased to apply.


    ¡°Copy.¡±


    Her second rodeo proved much easier than the first. The halfbreed¡¯s hands somehow knew exactly how they were supposed to control the artifact, even though hers was one that could not be touched. The simplified instruction set helped greatly as well. All she had to do was push the ball-tipped rod twice in rapid succession.


    Log Entry 897


    Artifact Manipulation has reached level 2.


    Seeing her repeat the motion several times, the man nodded, apparently satisfied. He held a palm in front of her to stop her, then pointed at the screen, where the illustration was now performing an extended, more violent version of the action. Each dash was followed by a kick; the cloak-covered figure would twist forward as it extended a leg, still unaffected by the world¡¯s universal downwards force.


    Again, the input was simple. It was just like the previous one with an additional instruction appended at the end, a single depression of the red circle marked with a rotated cross. He added another action once she mastered it, and then another and another each time she performed. By the end of the night, she was following along almost perfectly as the hazy illustration pounded away at an equally blurry foe. Artifact Manipulation didn¡¯t gain any more levels. But somehow, another skill did.


    Log Entry 898


    Unarmed Combat Mastery has reached level 7.


    ¡°Good. Enough for today.¡±


    Rambling happily, the man inserted himself between the halfbreed and the art-filled box right as the goddess announced the acquisition.


    ¡°Next time. Real martial arts.¡±


    And then, with a clap of his hands, he was gone, world and all.

 Chapter 45 - Close Encounters of the Barely Intelligible IV

    Chapter 45 - Close Encounters of the Barely Intelligible IV


    Claire awoke to a gust of wind. The cave¡¯s temperature was a good bit lower than it had been when she had gone to sleep, and the front entrance was already home to a fresh pile of snow. Still, the halfbreed was feeling quite content. The thick blankets that enveloped her body were so warm and toasty that she nearly fell back asleep as soon as she awakened. It took another chilling breeze to shake the cold-averse snake girl free of her grogginess.


    Moaning reluctantly, she moped her way out of bed and over to the flame. The tree-shaped pile of charcoal was on the verge of petering out. Its embers were dim and its crackling faint, even to her hypersensitive ears. With a yawn, she looked around the room and located a stack of replacements, a series of thick dried logs, stripped bare of their bark and branches stashed in an alcove cut into the ice.


    She found, as she stared into the freshly rekindled pyre, that she was surprisingly well rested. Her body felt responsive and her head was clear, clear enough to realise that the moon was exactly where it had been when she first fell asleep, barely visible from her spot by the hearth.


    What time is it?


    The glowing satellite looming overhead seemed to suggest that no time had passed since she first wandered her way over to her makeshift bed, but she knew that there was no way that was true, so she pulled up her quest log and moved her eyes to its sole timed entry.


    Destroy Borrok Peak


    Primary Objectives:


    - The borrok lifegiver is slain


    - The borrok sentinel is slain


    Bonus Objectives:


    - Marleena Morgan survives


    - Carter Grassrunner survives


    - Borrok Peak is vandalized beyond recognition


    - Beckard Links does not attempt to speak to you


    Deadline: 126 Hours


    Claire tried rubbing her eyes to ensure that she wasn¡¯t hallucinating, but the number remained unchanged. There were only about five days left; nearly a full twenty four hours had passed since she had left the burrow.


    ¡°Is it because I spent too much time killing stuff? Or did I just oversleep?¡±


    Claire mumbled under her breath as she debated the possibilities, the second of which started to seem more and more likely with every passing thought. She started laughing to herself in denial as she shook her head. Either way, she was going to have to hurry up if she wanted to meet the deadline, so she moved outside and grabbed the leg she had left in the cold. Only to find that the object had changed.


    As a self-proclaimed expert on severed body parts, Claire quickly concluded that the limb was still technically a leg. But at the same time, it had also become something along the lines of a meatsicle. It was frozen solid, encased in a thin layer of ice. Putting it to use wasn¡¯t impossible per se, as it would eventually revert to its less-than-frostbitten form if she left it by the fire, but she didn¡¯t have the time to sit around and wait for it to thaw and dry.


    For a moment, the halfbreed nearly panicked, calming only as she recalled that there were other furs at her disposal. The pile she had slept in contained a whole seven of them, all of which were both larger and of the same high quality. They even felt the same to the touch.


    Between the eye in the spilled soup and the various scattered skeletons lying about, Claire had long suspected that the monster was a cannibal. In fact, she was fairly certain that its tendencies went a step further than just eating its own kind. None of the remnants left in its cave had come from any other species.


    Was the one I killed just a freak? Or do watchers only eat other watchers?


    Claire considered the question as she scoured the cave for any usable tools, but found none. The watcher¡¯s proficiency in magic provided it the ability to craft whatever it needed on the fly. Clay pot aside, it had no need for instruments made of anything but ice.


    Of course I need my stuff the one time I don¡¯t bring it with me. Ughhhhh¡­


    The only objects she could find were smelly rocks as long and thick as her fingers. There was no string or yarn anywhere, with the occasional bit of shed hair being the only thing that even remotely resembled either. Weaving distinct cuts of cloth together was completely off the menu. If she wanted her coat to stay on, then she was going to have to keep it secured with some sort of knot.


    That, in and of itself, was a problem easily solved. She could easily leave extraneous bits when she cut out a cloak so that she could keep it fastened in place; the individual pelts were several times her size. Still, she couldn¡¯t help but feel as if she was being wasteful. Each ribbon she crafted rendered a large chunk of the remaining material unusable, and messing up was more or less the norm. The only tool she had that was capable of cutting through the fur was the watcher¡¯s horn. And as the blade was still stuck inside the furry hunter¡¯s severed leg, manipulating it remained a whole chore and a half. Adding to the inefficiency was the lack of a ruler or measuring tape. The first cloak to amount to anything beyond an abject failure had to be discarded. It was too small to fit her, even though she could have sworn that she had made it twice as wide as her shoulders


    Cloak number two suffered from a similar lack of function. It was just the right size to fit snugly on her shoulders, but the sole ribbon she had built into its collar wasn¡¯t strong enough to hold the heavy garment in place. It took a third rare success for the halfbreed to produce something usable. The newest model was just the right size and its fancy six-ribbon design was robust enough to keep it from slipping off.


    Her sole complaint was that it didn¡¯t quite accommodate her ears, but that was something she had long given up on fixing. She didn¡¯t want to cut any holes in the sides, like she had for all of her other cloaks. Her fluffiest appendages would freeze off if exposed to the cold winter air, and that was just about the last thing she wanted. Likewise, she also had no intention of figuring out how she was supposed to make a hood that would provide the delicate organs with the breathing room they needed. Thinking about the process led her to decide that she would much rather endure a minor bit of discomfort than work out a solution.


    Next, the rogue made a mitten, or at least a cut of fur that was somewhat capable of functioning as a mitten. The rectangular blob of hair and skin was wrapped around everything from the bottom of her wrist to the tips of her fingers and bound on both the right and left sides. The lack of any distinct digits robbed her right hand of its dexterity and made it many times more difficult for her to manipulate any of her weapons. Equipping the glove wouldn¡¯t have been a worthy tradeoff under any normal circumstances, but the halfbreed needed something to ward off the cold to safely wield the frozen limb that had become her sharpest weapon.


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    Once the hand protector was complete, Claire moved on to the simplest of the day¡¯s tasks and quickly made a scarf by cutting a long strip outside of an otherwise ruined pelt. And with that, she was done. She had managed to successfully construct three pieces of gear out of seven perfect hides. It wasn¡¯t the best hit rate, but as the furthest thing from a tailor imaginable, the halfbreed was proud of herself for coming out with anything viable at all.


    Now all that¡¯s left is to use my ability points.


    There were a whole 58 available courtesy of her new mage class, whose levels had been coming in at a moderate pace, all things considered. It wasn¡¯t shooting up nearly as quickly as Llystletein Rogue, but each individual level was worth twice as much.


    The first stat she invested in was vitality. She dumped half of her available points into it without the slightest bit of thought or hesitation and boosted it all the way to 106. Vitality was the cornerstone of her survival, and her most recent encounter had only served to emphasize that she was going to need more of it.


    Premeditated decision out of the way, she looked over her remaining ability scores with a frown. She wasn¡¯t sure what she was supposed to focus on. The fight with the watcher had proven that she was lacking in terms of strength, but she also felt as if her lack of damage was in part a function of the subpar representation of her speed and dexterity. Thanks to the environment, neither stat was capable of putting its potential on display. The thick snow stripped her of her ability to dash around, while the cold numbed her fingers and toes. Stabbing at a vital point was next to impossible with the circumstances as they were.


    Bumping up her spirit was starting to seem surprisingly viable, as it was the only stat capable of providing her with any real resistance to enchanted blows, like those sourced from the one-eyed primate¡¯s frozen blade. Not even wisdom could be written off, as investing in it would improve the efficacy of her magic.


    ¡°What do you two think?¡± Stuck at an impasse, the halfbreed reluctantly addressed the pair that had been silently accompanying her all morning.


    ¡°She has finally acknowledged us, Shouldersnake. What do you say? Should we bother responding?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no point. She won¡¯t summon us even if we do.¡±


    ¡°Fine, strength it is,¡± grumbled Claire.


    ¡°No, no, no, wait! Strength is such a wasteful stat. Whyever would you bother investing in something as brutish as that?¡± asked the horse.


    ¡°It¡¯s the opposite of wisdom.¡±


    ¡°T-that¡¯s hardly any reason at all, is it? Please, Claire, rethink your decision.¡±


    ¡°Too late,¡± she said, as she shot the malformed pony a glare, ¡°and I¡¯m sure you¡¯re already well aware why I chose strength.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t the f-faintest idea,¡± stuttered the horse.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough, Pony. The gig¡¯s up.¡± The relatively silent serpent sighed as it slithered down the length of its owner¡¯s arm and turned around. Let me guess. You invested in strength because we''re made of magic?¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Why are you so difficult? I just want to kill things,¡± said the snake with a sad sigh. ¡°Can¡¯t you at least let me do that?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°And this is why we cannot stand you, Claire. You are far too stubborn,¡± said the horse.


    ¡°No, no, you¡¯ve got that wrong, you stupid Pony,¡± said the snake. ¡°Claire and I are the ones that can¡¯t stand you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, please, Shouldersnake. We all know that is not true. You both love me dearly.¡±


    There was a moment of silence as the two serpentine creatures cast a simultaneous pitiful gaze upon the odd horse out.


    ¡°Girls, please. I know that I happen to be quite the fetching mare, but I can only take so much of your affection. Any more and I might just explode from all the joy.¡±


    Again, both snakes stayed perfectly silent, but the horse never got the message. It instead puffed its malformed body up with pride and even started to blush as it raised its head as high as it could go.


    ¡°I wish I was that simple, sometimes,¡± grumbled Shouldersnake.


    ¡°You are. All you care about is killing things.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the ultimate pleasure,¡± said the snake, as it bobbed its head. ¡°And killing things is one of the only ways to ascend.¡±


    ¡°But look at all the effort it requires! I would not say that it is worth it, dear friend,¡± said Shoulderhorse.


    ¡°The point of life is ascension, Pony. Get that through your head,¡± said Shouldersnake.


    ¡°No, no, no, my friend, you are getting it all wrong. The point of life is to enjoy all the pleasures it has to offer, to eat, to sleep, and to indulge yourself in all sorts of depravity. That is our purpose.¡±


    ¡°That, Pony, is your purpose, you lazy cow. I¡¯m talking about everyone else.¡±


    ¡°Seeking enjoyment is the sole universal purpose. Though, I do agree that the privilege should belong primarily to yours truly.¡±


    ¡°Can you shut up? Both of you,¡± grumbled Claire, as she checked over her belongings. ¡°I¡¯m trying to concentrate.¡±


    ¡°Only if you promise you¡¯ll let me kill something,¡± said Shouldersnake.


    ¡°I¡¯ll consider it if you have breakfast,¡± said Shoulderhorse. ¡°It has been too long since you¡¯ve indulged in a treat, and I have just been dying to experience it vicariously. I¡¯d like it even more if you were to summon me and allow me to partake in it myself, however.¡±


    Oh, right. I almost forgot I didn¡¯t eat anything last night.


    Activating her authority skill, Claire summoned a basket of stale provisions and fueled herself for the long road ahead.


    ___


    Claire


    Health: 512/512


    Mana: 1630/1630


    Health Regen: 212/hour


    Mana Regen: 1144/hour


    Ability Scores - 29 Points Available


    - Agility: 121


    - Dexterity: 129


    - Spirit: 100


    - Strength: 148


    - Vitality: 106


    - Wisdom: 286


    Racial Class: Halfbreed - Level 28.72


    - Lashing Tailstrike - Level 1.00


    - Paralyzing Gaze - Level 3.35


    - Quadrupedal Bloodrush - Level 1.01


    Primary Class: Llystletein Rogue - Level 38.01


    - Assassinate - Level 7.65


    - Bloodthief - Level 3.83


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 6.97


    - Double Stab - Level 8.80


    - Envenom - Level 11.11


    - Manathief - Level 1.75


    Secondary Class: Llystletein Force Mage - Level 9.57


    - Basic Force Manipulation - Level 7.67


    - Basic Force Resistance - Level 2.81


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 11.18


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 2.00


    - Club Mastery - Level 9.43


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 8.46


    - Dancing - Level 6.02


    - Digging - Level 10.27


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 4.16


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 10.33


    - Marish - Level 19.02


    - Sewing - Level 1.43


    - Sneaking - Level 10.39


    - Spear Mastery - Level 3.82


    - Sword Mastery - Level 6.76


    - Throwing - Level 4.89


    - Tracking - Level 8.43


    - Unarmed Combat Mastery - Level 7.29

 Chapter 46 - Close Encounters of the Barely Intelligible V

    Chapter 46 - Close Encounters of the Barely Intelligible V


    Setting her leg-spear down in the snow, Claire cracked her shoulders and seated herself atop a large frozen rock. Behind her were a series of tracks so deeply imprinted that they almost seemed permanent, impossible to remove. They traced the exact path she had taken, covering every step, misstep, and detour from start to finish. But despite all apparent testimonies to the contrary, the trail was transient. The high winds would slowly but surely cover them in a blanket of snow; a few hours was all it would take for her tracks to vanish, just like the centaurian hoofprints she had followed the previous day.


    She had no idea where the pair had gone. There were no other indicators of their presence and they were well beyond the range of her Tracking skill. That, however, did little to discourage her. There were many ways up the mountain and there was no guarantee that the centaurs¡¯ route had been optimal to begin with.


    Day two of trudging through the snow went by with far less difficulty. The cold was still proving itself an unrelenting source of fatigue, but the soft wooly equipment that now adorned her shoulders was at least keeping her warm enough to ward off the urge to close her eyes and roll over. Despite being something she made on a whim, her scarf had become the star of the show. Her lungs weren¡¯t freezing anymore and it no longer hurt to breathe. She couldn¡¯t smell as well with her tongue tucked inside of the muffler, but the suppression of her already subpar olfactory sense was not something she found herself particularly concerned with.


    Much more harmful was the need to keep her ears held down. She could still hear, but everything was muffled and she was finding it difficult to track sounds to their sources. The snow wasn¡¯t helping her case either. It served as a dampener and dulled her ability to pick up on threats from afar. Even the borroks, with their loud buzzing wings, were hard to make out. She had to take off her cowl and strain her fluffy listeners if she wanted to detect them before they could detect her.


    The sound of a distant hoot led her to do exactly that. She pulled back her hood and raised her ears as high as they would go. With the action came a great sense of discomfort. The wind sent shivers down her spine and small flakes of snow settled in her hair each time it blew, but she kept her ears peeled regardless.


    There was a battle happening up ahead. Someone, or perhaps something, was fighting a group of borroks. She couldn¡¯t tell what species the combatant was, but she could make out its gender from the occasional curse or grunt that left its throat. It¡ªhe¡ªwasn¡¯t having a good time.


    Borroks aren''t very hard to deal with¡­ Maybe the ones he¡¯s fighting are ascended.


    Pulling her cloak back over her head, Claire climbed the hill in front of her and took up a position behind a small mound of snow. The battle was taking place inside of a large valley, the center of which was a half-frozen lake with platforms of ice aplenty. Standing on top of one of the floating blocks was a squirrel that stood at about half her height. The red-furred creature vaguely reminded her of a veaber, given its overall shape, but she doubted the evaluation¡¯s accuracy. It wasn¡¯t ugly or naked enough and the incredible bursts of speed that it demonstrated were far off spec.


    If not for its lack of grip, she was confident that the rodent would have long come out on top. Its feet slipped each time it tried to stop or turn, the excess motion almost always robbing it of the ability to throw a counter. Getting back to shore seemed like the obvious choice, but the tree-climber refused. It was, for some odd reason, trying its best to stay atop a large piece of ice.


    An explanation in the form of a borrok variant surfaced soon after she made the observation. It looked almost exactly the same as all the others, save for the fin that replaced its wings. The bug-monkey cast a spell each time it popped its head out of the water and created a series of magical waves that threatened to capsize the tree-climber¡¯s platform.


    ¡°That squirrel would make a pretty nice pair of mittens,¡± Claire muttered under her breath as she watched the battle ensue.


    ¡°Yes, it would. Now let me kill it,¡± said Shouldersnake.


    ¡°Oh, stop it you two. Why must you always be so violent? It just so happens to be a lovely day out today. Why don¡¯t we bask in the sun and have a nap instead?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not lovely,¡± said the halfbreed. ¡°It¡¯s windy, snowy, and there isn¡¯t a sun to bask in.¡±


    It had been nearly three hours since Claire departed from the watcher¡¯s cave, but the night had shown no signs of ending. The moon was still exactly where it had been when she first arrived. Its complete lack of motion was starting to give her the feeling that its position would never change, no matter how long she waited. The lack of a sun, however, didn¡¯t prove itself an obstacle. Countless celestial bodies worked together to lift the night¡¯s veil. Reflected by the snow, the twinkling stars provided her eyes with everything she needed to get a near perfect grasp on her surroundings.


    ¡°Oh, you, always such a downer.¡± Shoulderhorse heaved a dramatic sigh. ¡°Silly Claire, all you need to do to find all the sunshine and rainbows you could possibly ask for is to look inside your heart.¡±


    The force mage rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak, but the danger noodle sitting on her other shoulder beat her to the punch. ¡°No one cares about any of your dumb preaching, Pony. It¡¯s kill time.¡±


    ¡°No. It¡¯s not. We¡¯re staying here and watching,¡± mumbled Claire.


    ¡°But don¡¯t you want the squirrel¡¯s pelt? The borroks will mess it up if you let them kill it. Summon me, Claire. I¡¯ll kill everythin¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hey! You! Up on the cliff! Give me a hand!¡± Shouldersnake¡¯s millionth appeal was cut off by a gruff shout.


    With a start, Claire turned her gaze back to the squirrel, who had screamed straight at the mound she was hidden behind. The pair locked eyes. He knew that she got the message. But that didn¡¯t mean she was going to respond. If anything, she was starting to feel as if it was time for her to leave. The rogue had no intention of getting involved with someone capable of pinpointing her while her stealth-based skills were active.


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    ¡°I just need you to do something about the one in the water!¡± The squirrel shouted. ¡°I¡¯ll owe you a favour afterwards, so please!¡±


    What if he¡¯s trying to trick me? The mage¡¯s free hand fell to her dagger as she thought her way through the problem. The rodent was fast, incredibly so, but she was fairly confident that she could kill him if push came to shove. His reactions weren¡¯t as quick as his movements, and he seemed to be struggling with a number of borroks that she was fairly certain she could take, slippery footing or not.


    Her decision made, Claire snuck down from her perch and approached the lake with one arm dragging her leg-spear behind her. The other was held to her side, radiating magic. Her most expensive spell was cast by the time she reached the bottom of the valley, the result of which was an annoying serpent atop her shoulder.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ real! I¡¯m real! I can kill things! I knew you¡¯d come around!¡±


    ¡°Shut up. You¡¯re a nuisance,¡± groaned Claire.


    A strange sense of discomfort coursed through her arm as the once-phantom serpent slithered down its length. She could feel it. She could feel its scales against hers, just as well as she could feel hers against its. And that was only the tip of the iceberg. The snake¡¯s body moved as she willed it. It turned itself upside down, wriggled back and forth, and stopped in place whenever she issued the corresponding command. Manipulating the ophidian was no less natural than moving a limb.


    Even more bizarre than the sudden extension to her nervous system was the knowledge that came with it. She knew exactly how she was supposed to use the guardian and all of its abilities. She understood them better than she did any of the other tricks she had up her sleeve; none of her other skills had ever offered anywhere near as much of a sense of familiarity. It was, by all means, something that should have disturbed her. The skill felt so right that it was wrong. But the mage wasn¡¯t bothered. It was a feeling she knew, identical to the experience of carrying out a ritual¡¯s final step. It was like everything was falling into place. Exactly the way it should.


    Still, that wasn¡¯t to say that there was zero cause for concern. The psychic link binding her to the psychopathic snake was overwhelming. She could feel it seething with hatred, a powerful all consuming wrath that threatened to flood her consciousness with nothing but thoughts of murder. But just as it was about to take over, it vanished, leaving her with nothing but the smoldering embers that were its remnants. The occasional impulse or two coursed through her, but they were weakened, nowhere near as mind-numbing as the first.


    Log Entry 899


    Basic Force Resistance has reached level 3.


    She was able to locate the borrok within the depths as soon as she got to the edge. Its colouration made it stand out like a sore thumb, its darkened body a stark contrast against the sandy beach that lay beneath the crystal clear ice.


    Claire had wanted to spend a moment observing the aquatic cat bug, but she wasn¡¯t given the chance. Shouldersnake shot forward like an arrow, and her hand with it. The limb was forced to extend as the two meter-long snake plunged into the water with its tail wrapped around her wrist.


    Log Entry 900


    Basic Force Manipulation has reached level 8.


    A moment later, it re-emerged with its teeth clasped around the primate¡¯s neck. Only half of the thick meaty spine-protector could fit in the serpent¡¯s mouth, even with its jaw unhinged, but even so, the borrok failed to resist. The only movement it managed was the occasional twitch of a leg. It was already done for. The serpent had put its fangs to work and injected the bug with a fatal dose of quicksilver.


    Log Entry 901


    You have slain a level 28 borroqua.


    This feat has earned you 1 point of wisdom.


    Log Entry 902


    You have unlocked a new spawnwable drink item.


    I hate these dumb names. Did Alfred come up with them? I bet he did.


    ¡°And that¡¯s why you should let me kill things.¡± The snake smiled smugly as it released its prey.


    ¡°I could¡¯ve done it myself,¡± said Claire, as she looked towards the squirrel.


    The furry critter had already moved from his previous position in the middle of the lake over to the opposite shore, where he soon dispatched the remaining borroks with ease. On land, his speed was higher and his dashes were more controlled. No longer did he skid every time he tried to stop.


    ¡°What are you doing? That stupid rodent is going to kill all the borroks if you don¡¯t hurry up and get over there!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°Well I do!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to dismiss you if you don¡¯t shut up.¡±


    ¡°Fine¡­¡±


    The snake obliged and closed its mouth, but it didn¡¯t get any less annoying. It would move just within range of her peripherals lest she went out of her way to take control.


    ¡°Stop that.¡± She grabbed both the noodle¡¯s ends, squeezing its mouth shut as she tucked her hand underneath her cloak.


    ¡°Mmrrrphh mrrph mrphhhhh.¡±


    Sighing, the halfbreed walked over to the squirrel, which had eliminated the final borrok with a flying kick. The few wounds he suffered quickly closed as he tore his foot from the exploding primate¡¯s skull, kicked it away, and turned to face her. He seemed aware of the fact that he was completely unpresentable, as he tried to dust off the front of his pelt as one would an article of clothing. To no avail, of course, but she did at least note that the effort was made.


    ¡°Thanks, I owe you one. They would¡¯ve got me if that went on for any longer.¡±


    ¡°How are you paying me back?¡±


    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re a girl?¡± The squirrel squinted and leaned forward as he tried to get a better look at her face, but his confusion remained. Both the scarf that masked her lips and the hood that covered her eyes made it next to impossible for him to make out her features.


    ¡°Does it matter?¡±


    ¡°I was just surprised is all,¡± he said, before starting to mutter under his breath. ¡°This means I¡¯m not stuck in the scenario I thought I was in after all. I thought heroines weren¡¯t supposed to show up on the first day. Well, I guess this works too. I¡¯ll just have to change some of my plans a bit, but I guess that¡¯ll depend on identifying all the right tropes.¡±


    His whispers were quiet, but not quiet enough to escape Claire¡¯s ears. The words he meant to hide were as clear to her as those that he hadn¡¯t.


    ¡°Wait, no, I don¡¯t think I can judge until the scarf¡¯s gone. And there¡¯s no telling what sort of heroine I¡¯ve got on my hands anyway, if a heroine at all. Not that it matters all that much. I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m supposed to go with making a good impression either way, unless she¡¯s one of the weirder types.¡±


    I think he¡¯s lost his mind. For the second time in twenty four hours, Claire found herself staring down a furry creature that she could only barely understand.


    Maybe I should just get this over with and stab him in the face.

 Chapter 47 - The Corruptor’s Realm

    Chapter 47 - The Corruptor¡¯s Realm


    A heavy sigh escaped Claire¡¯s lips as she stared down the oversized squirrel. She had learned, after failing to grab his attention on two separate occasions, that the art of conversation was lost on him. The chestnut-coloured rodent didn¡¯t even seem to understand the concept of listening. It took a good few minutes for him to finally raise his head and note her presence, at which point he found himself face to face with an icy glare.


    ¡°Sorry, bad habit.¡± He shuffled his gaze and looked at the ground to avoid meeting her eyes. ¡°What were we talking about again?¡±


    ¡°You owe me,¡± said the halfbreed, ¡°for saving you.¡± The last bit was added when she noted his apparent confusion. His bushy tail had curled itself into the shape of a question mark.


    ¡°Ah, right, that. Well, funny thing, I don¡¯t actually have much to give, but I can offer my services.¡±


    ¡°I want information.¡± Claire tightened her grip on the serpent coiled around her arm. It was trying to break free, set off by the scent of a potentially fruitless effort. ¡°Tell me where I can find the more important borroks.¡±


    ¡°Right, about that...¡± The squirrel started twirling a finger around some of the fur on his leg. ¡°I actually just got here a few days ago, so I don¡¯t really know this place all that well either.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ what?¡± Claire hissed through a set of clenched teeth. Great, I saved him for nothing.


    ¡°If it¡¯s any consolation, the borroks do seem to get stronger the further you head up the mountain, so the strongest ones are probably living near the top.¡±


    Next he¡¯s going to tell me snow is white. Claire could feel her brow twitching. Resisting the urge to greet his face with her fist was getting harder and harder with every word he said.


    ¡°Okay. Bye.¡± Knowing that she was already on the verge of snapping, the rogue spun around and started marching off.


    ¡°Wait!¡± But the squirrel wasn¡¯t about to let her have her way. He hopped to her side and matched her speed. ¡°Is that really all you wanted to know?¡±


    ¡°Yes? Now go away. I¡¯m busy.¡±


    ¡°With what? There¡¯s not really much to do on this mountain is there?¡±


    ¡°Take a guess.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± The squirrel stopped in place and put a hand to his chin as he resumed mumbling to himself again. ¡°Alone on a snowy mountain in the middle of nowhere¡­ Wearing poorly made clothes¡­¡± He thumped his foot against the snow, over and over. It was a slower pattern at first, consistent as a metronome, but it soon broke its pace and accelerated alongside his words.


    Claire didn¡¯t simply sit around and wait for him to process his thoughts. Their first interaction had already left her equal parts drained and annoyed, and she had no intention of keeping him around any longer than was absolutely necessary. Except maybe as a pair of mittens.


    With her annoyance outweighing her need for a new pair of muffs, she made her decision and subsequent escape. The rogue turned around, kicked off the riverbank, and started dashing as quickly as the knee-deep snow would allow. She would have been over the moon if her attempt to abandon him went as planned, but the snow made her far too easy to track and his speed allowed him to catch up in a matter of moments. Even though she had made it all the way out of the valley.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got it.¡± He spoke as he hopped up beside her and slowed down to match her pace. ¡°You¡¯re here to sacrifice yourself to the borroks so they spare your people!¡±


    ¡°I am not a sacrifice.¡± The words were nearly spat at him as her poker face twisted into a snarl. Her fists were clenched tight and her fangs were bared. Not that he could see them under her scarf.


    ¡°That¡¯s what they all say.¡±


    Claire¡¯s fury vanished as she took a moment to process the squirrel¡¯s claim. His response was so ridiculous that she nearly lost track of her position and ran into a tree. ¡°You¡¯re an idiot.¡±


    She gave him her best blank stare. He deserved it.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I understand. It¡¯s not the type of thing you would want to talk about.¡± The rodent sighed and slowly shook his head from side to side. ¡°You know, I¡¯m going through some pretty hard times myself.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll tell you my story if you te¡ªwait, you don¡¯t care?¡± He scratched his head and lowered his voice to a whisper. ¡°Did I read my tropes wrong? That can¡¯t be it, can it?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter who or what you are. Leave. Me. Alone.¡±


    ¡°Oh, wait, I get it. I should¡¯ve started with the story itself instead of a lengthy introduction. I¡¯ll get to it now.¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t.¡±


    Claire sighed through the magical snake she had under her cloak. It wasn¡¯t exactly as satisfying as doing it with her own two lungs, but it did at least make her feel a little bit better.


    ¡°Up until a few days ago, I was just a normal caveveaber,¡± he said. ¡°But then I suddenly started remembering things after I got stung by a huge wooden bee.¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± said Claire. Did he just say he was a veaber?


    ¡°I had all of these visions and hallucinations, about the future, about the walls, and about a group of two centaurs, one of them a half. I didn¡¯t think they were real when they first started, but they were too detailed, too right for me to ignore them.¡±


    ¡°Shut! Up!¡± hissed the halfbreed.


    ¡°I dreamt that Reverend Cheeseburger would die of unknown causes. And then when I woke up, he did. My brother, Gerry, even reacted the exact same way he did in my dream. That¡¯s when I knew they were real.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it! I¡¯ve had enough.¡±


    Paralyzing Gaze froze the self-proclaimed veaber in place, followed shortly after by a spinning strike. Claire smashed the watcher¡¯s foot into her unwelcome conversation partner and sent him flying over the trees.


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    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you use the blade? That could¡¯ve been an instant kill,¡± asked Shouldersnake, who had emerged from her cloak. ¡°Now you have to chase him down to finish him off.¡±


    ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t talk when other people were around.¡±


    ¡°The veaber isn¡¯t going to hear me. He¡¯s out like a light.¡± The pale blue danger noodle bobbed the part of its body right behind its neck, as if to shrug. ¡°So? Are we killing him or what?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t feel like it.¡±


    ¡°Really? Why the hesitation? He¡¯s just a veaber. You¡¯ve already killed a dozen like him already. And he even called you a ¡®you know what.¡¯¡±


    ¡°No means no. Stop annoying me. I¡¯m not in the mood to deal with you right now.¡±


    ¡°All the more reason to kill something.¡±


    ¡°Buzz off.¡± The mage dismissed her guardian with a grumble and continued on her way.


    The next leg of her journey was fairly uneventful. Trekking up the mountain came with few troubles or interruptions. The slope remained gentle throughout and none of the borroks she spotted along the way were particularly noteworthy. Murdering them would have provided her with a fair share of experience, but she avoided combat in the interest of time, just as she had in the morning.


    Further contributing to her blood-abstinence was a sense of listlessness. The quiet wintery backdrop was one that should have left a lasting impression of beauty. But Claire wasn¡¯t feeling it. The ice-glazed branches reminded her instead of all the times her father had shouted at her because she was inactive in the cold, the frozen needles of when he lamented her incompetency behind closed doors, and the falling snow of the time he struck her because she had wanted to remain by her mother¡¯s grave.


    She could practically hear his words, the brewing storm her only saving grace. Its winds whooshed by, drowning him out as the flurry grew into a blizzard. She almost didn¡¯t mind it at first. The wet slop that plastered itself against her face was oddly calming. It numbed her and eased the pain that came with thinking about her past. Or at least that was what it did at first.


    Comfort turned to irritation as her internal temperature plummeted. She was miserable. Her clothes were soaked through and through by all the snow. Her teeth were chattering, clicking themselves against each other at well over ten times a second, while the rest of her body trembled and shook like that of a frightened child.


    Before long, she lost the ability to see anything more than two feet in front of her. Millions of snowflakes littered the sky. The countless specks hid the moon and obscured the distant stars beneath sheets of pure white. The icy powder went from knee to waist high in a matter of minutes, but she pressed forward regardless, in hopes of finding some sort of shelter.


    She was nearly frozen by the time she finally stumbled into a patch of woodland. Hiding in the trees certainly helped, but it wasn¡¯t enough. The harsh winds continued to pelt her. They bit at her skin and scales over and over, even with the yeti¡¯s fur as her shield.


    Claire¡¯s solution was to fill the gaps between the branches by packing them with snow. What started as a tiny wall grew into a dome as she redoubled her efforts, spurred onwards by the easily visible result. The semi-circular structure proved surprisingly solid, its roof remaining in place even as layers upon layers of snow piled up over it.


    The shelter provided her with warmth. Warmth that came hand in hand with silence. Silence that amplified the once-quelled voices. Louder and louder the whispers grew.


    Until they were as clear as the day she first heard them.


    All because the veaber had labelled her a sacrifice.


    ¡°Do you understand why you¡¯re here, Claire?¡±


    He was right there, right in front of her. Even though he wasn¡¯t.


    ¡°I always thought that you would amount to something, someday. I¡¯d hoped that you would step up to your responsibilities, and that you would come to understand the role that you were meant to play.¡±


    She could smell the smoke of his cigar, the cherry-oak aroma of his favourite brand of vekratt, and the cologne he used to mask the otherwise overbearing stench of blood that always clung to his fur and feathers.


    ¡°But I can¡¯t wait any longer.¡± He heaved a sigh, a heavy, tired sigh. ¡°You¡¯ve already dashed nearly all your hopes for marriage. You rejected both Sir Rydland and Marquess Khazart. I¡¯d pinned my hopes on Durham at some point, but then you had to go and remove his ability to sire a child.¡±


    He took a swig from his glass, downing its contents in one breath before setting it back on his desk with a notable clink.


    ¡°And now you¡¯ve even rejected Duke Ryarrd.¡±


    Claire tried to shake her head clear of the illusion, the scene replaying itself in her mind. But she couldn¡¯t. It didn¡¯t go away, even as she clutched her skull and screamed.


    ¡°There are no longer any suitable candidates. I would say that we could look outside the country, but I doubt that would amount to anything beyond an international incident.¡±


    She shook her head from side to side as she clawed at her ears. Her breathing was heavy, laboured, pained. She could feel her heart beating fast in her chest, pounding at a thousand miles a minute and threatening to leap from its cage.


    But the words that were supposed to come after his disappointment, the words that were meant to condemn her, were never delivered. They failed to reach her ears. Because she interrupted them. Gritting her teeth, she wheezed the rebuttal she had once failed to voice.


    ¡°It¡¯s... not my fault.¡±


    After several deep breaths, she pounded a fist into the snow and continued.


    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault! Ryarrd was a jerk!¡±


    The blueblood closed her eyes and recalled the miscreant that was House Rembrandt¡¯s heir. He was Alice¡¯s elder brother, her tormentor, and the reason she had sought asylum with the Augustus¡¯. It was a given that the two would never get along, a given that she would slug him in the face every time she got the chance.


    And yet, her father had tried to force her to wed him.


    He had to have known of the bad blood between them¡ªthere was simply no way he hadn¡¯t¡ªbut the aging general had tried to push the relationship nonetheless. So that he could use his cunning, underhanded strategies to seize control of the younger duke¡¯s assets and authority. Ryarrd would likely have been discarded within a few years of their union. And Claire would have been freed from his shackles. But that didn¡¯t mean that she was interested in playing along.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a pawn. You can¡¯t just order me around like some sort of golem or servant,¡± she mumbled.


    Reflecting on her past led her to suspect that he had only turned her into a ritual mage as a contingency plan. Ritual mages made for the best sacrifices. To the gods, they were worth tens, if not hundreds. Any rite that required its caster¡¯s life was sure to provide a result that would be remembered. That was why he had forced her to take up the mantle. So that he could make use of her if she otherwise proved incompetent. It was such an obvious conclusion that Claire failed to understand how she had remained blind to it for so long. That was just the sort of man her father was. The sort of man he had always been.


    He had never proven himself anything but cold and indifferent. The only reaction he had ever shown her was disappointment. He had never batted an eyelid at any of her successes or accomplishments. Any compliments he spoke were spoken in public, as a way of promoting her to other members of nobility. So that he could offer her to them in exchange for their loyalty. In private, he was as expressionless as a doll and bitter as an adulterous harlot exposed on the altar.


    An answer to Sylvia¡¯s question started forming in her mind as she contemplated the high commander¡¯s twisted personality. Claire still didn¡¯t know exactly what she would do once she escaped the lost library. She didn¡¯t know what sort of life she wanted to lead. But one thing was certain. She was going to confront her father.


    She was going to force him to acknowledge her, be it through rhetoric, might, or magic. Only then would she be free, free of all her obligations and everything else that had ever bothered her. Free to take Alice on all the adventures she wanted. Free to laze about when it was cold, without anyone to tell her that she couldn¡¯t. Free to pursue her own identity, unbridled by her blood.


    A calm expression appeared on Claire¡¯s face as she raised her head and clenched her fists. A weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She felt amazing, like she could take on the world and all it threw at her, like she could do anything, anything, she set her mind to. Full of energy and vigour, she tore a hole in her makeshift dome and stepped out into the storm.


    Only to return a moment later, her face once again covered in snow.


    ¡°Okay, maybe not anything.¡±

 Chapter 48 - The Corruptor’s Realm II

    Chapter 48 - The Corruptor¡¯s Realm II


    It took three hours for the storm to settle, three painful hours that Claire spent staring at her quest menu and doodling in the snow. That wasn¡¯t all she was doing, of course. She would spend a few minutes casting spells every time her MP shot over a thousand.


    Basic Force Manipulation was her primary focus. Thinking back, she recalled that she had been able to move her weapons around without making any gestures when she fought the watcher, but attempting to reproduce the phenomenon resulted in nothing but failure. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn¡¯t quite make the snowball sitting in front of her follow her instructions without an accompanying motion.


    Fruitless, however, her efforts were not. The skill gained two whole levels, one when she accidentally pushed on and subsequently collapsed the dome¡¯s front half, and the other when she learned that her hands were not the only tools at her disposal. Moving her feet in sync with her spells could provide similar results, with the only caveat coming in the form of a difficulty spike. Her lower limbs weren¡¯t as dextrous as their fingery counterparts. It was difficult to keep them from arcing when she swung them forwards and the extraneous vertical movement influenced the vector produced by her magic. Still, the discovery proved a critical breakthrough, as it had netted her more than just a skill level. The class had gained one as well.


    It was the first time she had grown from anything other than combat since she left the manor. For a moment, the achievement filled her with nostalgia, a surge of euphoria and familiarity that drove a yearning for home. A very brief moment. Her mood took a sudden turn for the worse as she remembered that most of her ritual mage levels had come from studying¡ªcarefully browsing grimoires and their contents. And if there was one thing she hated more than Ryarrd, it was being forced to read a tome.


    Not all spell books were poorly constructed. Some, the halfbreed considered fairly tolerable. That wasn¡¯t to say they were fetching or compelling by any stretch of the imagination, but at the very least, they cut straight to the point and readily presented their formulas, processes, and justifications without any extraneous fluff.


    The average grimoire was by no means so user-friendly. Most doubled as their authors¡¯ autobiographies and sequestered their secrets within long-winded rants about the mundane ins and outs of their lives as second rate mages. It took careful analysis to pry out the necessary details, and key parts were oftentimes left to the reader¡¯s inference or interpretation. The most sadistic and secretive writers would go as far as encoding their secrets such that they could only be pursued by those willing to devote an extraneous amount of time to decrypting them.


    While Claire held great interest in tales of heroism and other stories documented by the various bards¡¯ ballads, she cared very little for the histories of those devoted to the development of magecraft. Nearly every spell book she ever read had drained her of what little enthusiasm she had by the time she turned the second page. It didn¡¯t help that ritual magic was her subject of study. Most of her peers spent their lives hidden away in the basements of various temples. Their meager existences were as far from interesting as could be, but their egos were as vast as the oceans. Even though their spells relied on the powers above.


    ¡°I don¡¯t get why everyone thinks they¡¯re brilliant. Most scholars are just self-centered morons.¡±


    Claire spoke aloud as she took another step through the shoulder deep snow. Each motion she made was careful and deliberate. Her dexterity allowed her to move with some degree of finesse, but it remained a struggle nonetheless; perfect balance was the only thing keeping her from sinking into the powdery sheet of white.


    ¡°Maybe it wouldn¡¯t have been so bad if more of them were like Allegra.¡±


    The former court mage was one of the many individuals that had come to House Augustus to seek asylum. Her crime? Imprinting in a foreign prince a deep-rooted fear of the communal sanitation sponge. By the rabbit lady¡¯s account, it was an act of retaliation conducted to punish the giant for his unwanted advances. Her wrongdoing would not have been discovered until far into the future had the circumstances not strayed from the norm, but alas, she was unlucky. The Goddess of Fortune had decided to throw a wrench in the witch¡¯s plans.


    Unaccustomed to the hay that most Cadrians considered a key staple, Prince Elric was rendered incapable of touring Valencia, the capital city, immediately upon his arrival. The day he finally recovered just so happened to be the day that the Used Sponge Association held its annual parade. Needless to say, the encounter was not a pleasant one for the prince, who discovered that confronting his newfound fear would result in little beyond a fit of epilepsy.


    ¡°It¡¯s getting steeper.¡±


    Claire took a break from reminiscing to look up the mountain. The path she had been taking, a straight line up the side, was rapidly losing its viability. That wasn¡¯t to say that she was outright barred from continuing forward. While she had very little experience scaling vertical walls, she was fairly confident that she would have been able to push ahead if she set her mind to it. Though it was certainly a problem, the peak''s geography was not the problem. That crown lay instead with the wildlife that inhabited the rocky biome.


    Large winged creatures were circling the airspace above. They were too far away for her to make them out in any sort of meaningful detail. But she didn¡¯t need to. There was no reason for her to pursue their precise identities; their presence alone served as more than enough of a deterrent. The rogue doubted that she would be able to put up much of a fight without any proper footholds, and falling to her death was nowhere near the top of her agenda. Or on her agenda at all in the first place.


    Scanning the environment didn¡¯t quite seem to yield any results, so Claire retrieved her trusty old candle and gave it a spin. She could feel an external force influencing it, but seeing no obvious problems with the direction it was pointing her in, the halfbreed obediently followed the divine directive and headed to the right. Marching alongside the slope was equal parts tedious and obnoxious. Large swaths of ice were hidden beneath the snow, and while the scales on her soles made it so that she wouldn¡¯t start sliding around on contact, not every part of her foot was covered. She would still slip and fall every time she accidentally allowed her skin to make contact with the invisible skating rink.


    All the halfbreed¡¯s aimless wandering eventually led to a distinct trail, a road made of downtrodden snow, compacted to the point where her footprints no longer registered. It led beneath the ice, into a powdery white tunnel that seemed to gradually slope up and around the mountain. Claire¡¯s first thought was that it was suspicious. There were a countless number of reasons to avoid the beaten path, with the most obvious being that someone or something had clearly left the underpass in its wake; the tunnel was dangerous at best.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Another issue came in the form of visibility. Entering the subnivean channel robbed her of the ability to scan her surroundings¡ªfront and back would become the only places she could look. But even so, the newfound passageway remained difficult to dismiss. Navigating it was much easier than forcing her way through the snow.


    Claire peeled back her hood and raised her ears as she stepped inside, but she wasn¡¯t able to glean any information. The only pair of feet she heard were her own. Stopping in place and waiting for the echoes to fade left her alone with the sound of silence, nothing but her own beating heart. The roaring winds had turned silent and there weren¡¯t any creatures in her detection range, a far cry from Mirewood Meadow and its overwhelming vitality.


    This is¡­ nice. She smiled to herself. I wonder what kind of monster I¡¯ll find.


    Pulling her hood back over her face, she nearly hummed as she resumed the march, stopping short only to avoid disrupting the silence. The silence that, for once, failed to plague her.


    ___


    Two quiet hours later, the halfbreed found herself startled to hear what almost seemed like the echoes of a distant city. She couldn¡¯t quite see it, courtesy of all the winter in her way, but she could hear all sorts of different voices bouncing off the tunnel¡¯s walls. They were accompanied by the clinking of metal, the crackling of flames, and the squeaking of wheels. There was even a set of bells thrown into the mix. It rang once every few seconds, a steady, stable cadence.


    The chiming nearly made her tense up, courtesy of her experiences in the marsh, but she soon relaxed as she realised that it was much quieter and didn¡¯t seem to come from both everywhere and nowhere at once. And before long, it went quiet, ringing only a total of six times as if to signal the time of day.


    Claire tried clawing her way through the ceiling so she could get a better view of her surroundings, but that particular task proved itself more difficult than anticipated. A thick layer of sea-blue ice sat behind the snow-packed walls. It almost seemed indestructible, given that whacking it with her mace barely left a scratch. She couldn¡¯t tell how thick it was or what lay behind it, so she soon gave up and resumed the march.


    Each step she took came with a slight increase to the soundscape¡¯s intensity. And with it was another change that she didn¡¯t quite notice right away. The realisation that something was off didn¡¯t hit her until a drop of sweat fell from her brow and sank into the snow underfoot.


    ¡°Why is it so hot?¡± The halfbreed wondered aloud as she peeled back her hood.


    Her clothes were soaked through and through and her dress was practically stuck to her skin. She was so uncomfortable, all of a sudden, that she had to unfasten her watcher-based overcoat and tear off her scarf while fanning herself with her other hand.


    ¡°And why isn¡¯t any of the snow melting?¡±


    Though it was hot enough for the bluescale to sweat up a storm, the ice and snow had both remained completely unaffected. She could tell that the warmth was rising up from underneath her, but she could also feel the cold through the soles of her feet. Her toes were still every bit as sad and frozen as they had been since she first set foot on the mountain.


    Covering a bit more distance, with her scarf and glove stuffed in her bag and her wintery cloak tied around her waist, the force mage found herself with company. Their footsteps came from up ahead, notifying her of their presence far before they came in range of her eyes. She thought they were heading towards her at first, but a twitch of her ears informed her otherwise. They were also heading forward, towards whatever it was that awaited her at the end of the tunnel. It was hard to tell because of the way the sounds were bouncing around, but it seemed like they were coming from different tunnels in what was likely a system of caves.


    One set of feet clearly belonged to a group of borroks. They were both the furthest and the quietest, nearly undetectable because of the light weight of their relatively small frames.


    Behind them were four pairs of hooves. The much larger centaurs were easier to track, with their feet audibly crunching the snow. Even louder than their hooves was their armour. The metal plates clinked against each other with every step they took. Might be Carter and Marleena. They were both wearing standard Cadrian armour. The style even seemed a bit Valencian¡­ I should try to stay out of sight.


    Claire was supposed to ensure the half-horses¡¯ survival, but that didn¡¯t mean that she had any intention of making contact. If they really did hail from Valencia, then there was a fair chance that one of them would be able to identify her based on her features. Knowledge of them was widespread, courtesy of her unique lamian heritage.


    Alongside the centaurian pair was a third individual with much heavier footsteps. They reminded her of the watcher¡¯s, but she wasn¡¯t absolutely certain. She had no idea how the one-eyed mountain gorillas were supposed to sound when they weren¡¯t stomping around.


    Turning the corner verified Claire¡¯s hypotheses. Her path, alongside several others, converged to form a larger leveled passage with an icy cave set behind it. Making out all the details proved too difficult with the walls and ceiling blocking her line of sight, but she was able to confirm that there was some sort of settlement at the end of the tunnel. There were several buildings in sight, all of which were constructed of ice.


    The conclusions she made about the other individuals were also correct. There were two groups, one with the centaurs, bound by ropes and led by something that somewhat resembled a watcher, and another that featured a dozen or so borroks. Both were quite far along the tunnel. So long as they didn¡¯t turn back, they were unlikely to notice her even if she was to follow, but she chose to hang back and remain an observer until they passed the bridge leading to the community.


    Beneath the overpass ran a stream of magma, lava that flowed straight through the ice. Without melting it. It was a curious phenomenon, but not one that held Claire¡¯s attention for long. She was more focused on its guardian.


    Identical to the creature leading the centaurian prisoners, it was a hulking one-eyed, one-horned beast with an abdomen and six segmented legs sprouting from its back. Its hands were missing, replaced by scythe-like hooks resembling those of a mantis. The sharpened carapace was only one of many features that differed from those of the watcher¡¯s. Its head sported a pair of cat-like ears that were so large they extended past its shoulders, while its rear featured an equally feline tail. All signs seemed to say that it was a sort of borrok, or perhaps a watcher-borrok hybrid. Bad news, in either case.


    Its behaviour around the more normal-looking borroks served to further the theory that it was related to them. A toll in the form of a small token was taken from each individual, after which the bridge¡¯s guardian stepped aside and allowed them to pass. The same thing happened when it was approached by the individual of its own species. It accepted payment and let it through. Once everyone but the halfbreed was gone, the mutant borrok placed its earnings inside a wooden chest at the foot of the bridge and returned to its previous position.


    Claire tried examining the environment for any alternative exits, or ways to cross the lava stream without alerting the guard. But it wasn¡¯t possible. She couldn¡¯t climb the icy walls, and the glowing red river was too wide for her to leap it.


    The bridge was the only way forward and she obviously didn¡¯t have the token she needed to afford a toll¡ªnot that she believed the creature would have been willing to take one from her in the first place.


    Whatever the case, her next steps were decided. She was going to break through.

 Chapter 49 - The Corruptor’s Realm III

    Chapter 49 - The Corruptor¡¯s Realm III


    Claire started creeping along the side of the tunnel as soon as the borrok-watcher turned its eye away from the entrance. Unlike the previous tunnel, which had been about four or five shoulders wide, the leveled path could fit over fifty. Staying out of sight would be easy as long as the bridge¡¯s guard didn¡¯t look directly at her.


    Aiding her in the stealthy endeavour was a snowball. It started rather small, but soon grew to an impressive size as she pushed it through the corridor. She knew that it would only serve to expose her if she got too close. But from afar, its colour allowed it to blend into the background. The snowy globe wasn¡¯t exactly necessary, but the less-than-cold environment made it so she didn¡¯t want to wear her outermost layer and her thinner cloak was as brown as an autumn leaf.


    That wasn¡¯t to say that the halfbreed hated the heat. She much preferred it to the cold and even thought it rather comfortable. The sweat that accompanied it, however, was not. Her clothes were moist and sticky enough already; she didn¡¯t want them to get any worse.


    To both her fortune and annoyance, the guard rarely looked up. He spent most of his time fiddling with the large rock he had sitting on his knees. His scythe-tipped arms chipped away at it, bit by bit, as he slowly but surely turned the oval into a sculpture. The distinct metallic tapping seemed to give the impression that his body was hard as steel, but Claire wasn¡¯t concerned. His massive eye was a weakness either way. And if sneaking around worked as well as planned, she would be able to use the oculus to enter the creature¡¯s mind.


    Once about halfway through the tunnel, Claire abandoned her snowball and switched to crawling along the ground. It took covering another half the remaining distance for the blueblood to finally enter the outer edges of her striking range.


    Should I get closer?


    Claire frowned as she set the watcher leg down. The weapon was too bulky, a surefire way to draw attention at best. A bone dagger was drawn in its place, but keeping it in hand was about as close as she got to actually attacking. The rogue wasn¡¯t confident that she could land a hit from where she was, but neither did she think it safe to advance. She doubted that her hair and scales would suffice as camouflage.


    What if I threw some snow into the lava? The rogue narrowed her eyes and focused on the area around the fiery river. No, that wouldn¡¯t work. I don¡¯t think it¡¯d melt.


    ¡°Why is it so hot in here? My paws are sweating like no tomorrow.¡±


    A voice came from one of the tunnels behind the halfbreed, accompanied by a corresponding pair of footsteps. The unexpected noises caught her off guard. Her whole body froze; she was only inches away from jumping out of her skin. After taking a moment to steady her nerves, she spun around, plastered herself against the snow, and pulled her cloak overhead. A tiny sliver was left between the garment and ground so she could look in the speaker¡¯s direction, but nothing more. Her safety was already compromised enough.


    Seeing the cause of her concern turn the corner nearly led the halfbreed to bash her face against the floor. He had a small frame that stood at about half her height and a bushy red tail as easily recognizable as her disproportionately well-endowed ears. It was the squirrel, the one she had kicked into the ether.


    ¡°Is that lava up ahead? No, no, it can¡¯t be. No one¡¯s ever said anything about Borrok Peak being a volcano.¡±


    The rodent was murmuring under his breath as usual, a hand on his chin as he waddled through the tunnel on his hind legs. His posture seemed unnatural given the shape of his body, but the tree-dweller in question was acting as if it was the norm. His tail was the only thing keeping him balanced, swaying from left to right with every step he took.


    Why is he here? I thought I got rid of him.


    Though Claire found the rat¡¯s muttering as clear as day, the one-eyed bug at the end of the tunnel had yet to notice him. It was still chipping away at its rock, completely engrossed in the mundane task. Seeing them one after the other, the halfbreed found herself arriving at the conclusion that they were somewhat similar; neither was aware of anything but themselves. And Claire, for one, hoped that it would stay that way. The veaber was an obnoxious imbecile whose company she was already more than sick of, and approaching the watcher seemed like a terrible idea from the get go. At the very least, she wanted to determine how he would react to individuals without any insectoid escorts before she interacted with him. In that regard, she was almost grateful for the self-centered nut-stasher¡¯s advent. He was the perfect guinea pig.


    The plan was perfect. The squirrel was on the opposite side of the pathway and his mind was clearly elsewhere. There was no way he would notice her, especially with her breath held.


    Or so she thought.


    All went downhill right as the rodent passed her position. He suddenly perked up and dashed over to her cloak, waving and shouting as he approached.


    ¡°There you are! I¡¯ve been looking all over for you!¡± he said.


    Claire didn¡¯t respond, in part because she was surprised he noticed her, and in part because she had immediately come to the conclusion that ignoring him was for the best. To the watcher, whose attention the squirrel had already grabbed, it looked as if the loopy veaber was talking to a wall. And so long as she stayed perfectly still, that was unlikely to change.


    But she was wrong. She had once again failed to account for the stupid rodent that was rapidly becoming the bane of her existance.


    ¡°Strange, she¡¯s not saying anything. I wonder if she¡¯s asleep.¡±


    He grabbed ahold of her outermost cloak and pulled it right off, revealing her to the world and completely ridding her of any semblance of stealth.


    ¡°Oh, you are awake! You should¡¯ve said something.¡±


    The lunatic was completely unapologetic. He placed his hands on his hips and glowered at her, as if to imply that she was the one in the wrong.


    Still unwilling to interact, Claire decided to tap into her serpentine instincts and play dead. She stayed perfectly still with her eyes kept half open and her arms and legs stiffened at her sides. Even her ears, which were notorious for moving around on their own, fell limp.


    ¡°Hello? You in there?¡± The veaber waved a paw in front of her face, only to scratch the back of his head after failing to elicit a response. ¡°That¡¯s weird. Maybe she¡¯s lost in thought. Oh well, I guess I¡¯ll just have to wait.¡±


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    To Claire¡¯s dismay, he plopped himself down right in front of her. His eyes settled on her face, clearly curious. The bottom half of her visage was obscured by the snow, but even so, there was more of her visible than there was during their first encounter. That, in and of itself, was not an issue. As a lady, she was used to being looked upon by those with the worst intentions. But somehow, the squirrel man¡¯s leer disturbed her. Creepy old men had undressed her with their eyes for as long as she could remember, and yet, it took somehow every last drop of the halfbreed¡¯s willpower for her to stop herself from shuddering beneath the veaber¡¯s gaze.


    The awkward staring contest lasted for ten whole minutes, ending only as the borrok-watcher departed his post and wandered to the hallway¡¯s newest fittings.


    ¡°No stay.¡± It grunted as it glanced between the corpse and the squirrel. And after taking a moment to stare at Claire¡¯s weaponised leg, it decided to address the latter. ¡°Pay, go. Or leave.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d love to, but I have some business with her.¡±


    ¡°That?¡± The borrok prodded her with its foot. ¡°That dead. No business.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not dead. I can sense her heartbeat.¡±


    ¡°No! That dead. Leave now. Or pay go. Decide!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll need a second to think it through.¡±


    The squirrel put a hand on his chin, closed his eyes, and started mumbling something about probability. Claire took the opportunity to slowly shift her gaze to the goliath. It had looked like a watcher from afar, and now that it was right next to her, she found the impression growing ever stronger. Even the quality of its fur was the same, with the only key difference being that it was filthy and unkempt.


    To the bluescale¡¯s surprise, the cyclops proved relatively patient. He waited a whole minute or so before he started tapping his foot against the ground. Only after another passed did he give up and start screaming. ¡°No more! Answer now!¡±


    He turned his back to Claire and stepped towards the veaber with his scythes raised above his head and the legs on his back stretched outwards. The perfect opportunity. Both to fight, and to run. And it went without saying that the rogue chose the former.


    She grabbed her bladed leg spear, coated it with rocket fuel as she kicked off the ground, and cleaved at the back of the beast¡¯s neck.


    The strike was true. Its power bolstered by Assassinate, the sharp crystalline blade ate through the monster¡¯s flesh, ripped apart its spine, and tore its head straight off its body. A fountain of blood erupted from the stump, two separate streams of red and yellow that mixed and mingled as they spilled.


    But it wasn¡¯t dead.


    A dark brown spear of flesh and chitin shot by Claire¡¯s face, missing it by less than half an inch. Her ear would have been torn to bits like the piece of cloth covering it had she not instinctively raised it above her head. Five identical strikes followed, but they were further off target. They landed on the massive weapon that she was holding in front of her. Though reinforced by ice, the lance was unable to fully bear the weight of the bug-watcher¡¯s attacks. The ice covering it shattered as its still frozen flesh was twisted apart.


    Letting go of the makeshift shield, Claire leapt backwards and observed the undying behemoth. Its severed head was still moving. Its eye was swiveling and twitching around in its socket. After a brief delay and a hair-raising squelch, the pupil twisted towards the halfbreed. Six legs, much like the ones growing out of the monster¡¯s back, sprouted from the bottom of its mutilated neck and granted the disjointed head the ability to move on its own. The freak¡¯s body went through a similar process, with a large limb quickly sprouting from the supposedly fatal injury. There was no telling what was driving the mechanism, but one thing was clear. Killing the borrok-watcher was going to prove a lot more difficult than she first thought.


    ¡°What are you doing!?¡±


    A confused shout came from behind the beast, but Claire ignored it. She focused instead on readying her blades for the clash to come. A sword was held in one hand, while the other sported her dagger in a reverse grip. She wanted to use her club, but the smaller weapons seemed like a necessity. She needed all the speed she could get if she was going to mount any semblance of a defense against all of its limbs.


    The headless body was the first to move. It dashed at her with its scythes crossed in front of it in a defensive formation. The appendages growing out of its neck and back were reared, poised to strike. And strike they did. All seven of them shot at her as soon as it closed the distance. They launched a series of wild stabs, one after another without pause.


    But they were countered.


    Claire double-stabbed each limb as it approached. The carapace was much softer than she had imagined. Her makeshift boney blades pierced right through their shells and decimated their flesh. The phantom strikes that followed mutilated the creature even further, fueling her assault by refilling her mana with its health.


    Unlike the hunter she had felled, the guard was highly vulnerable. Its motions weren¡¯t nearly as refined and its reactions nowhere as fast. So clunky was the watcher that she almost got the impression that it wasn¡¯t fully in control of its body.


    The beast had to call off its assault and retreat as soon as the initial clash came to an end. Of the ten attacks it had launched, five resulted in a loss of limb. It didn¡¯t particularly mind, as all its missing body parts soon regenerated, but it should have. Because its opponent was not one to miss such an obvious opening.


    The monster¡¯s knee was weakened by a heavy blow from a boney mace. It tried to retaliate again, by attacking with its scythes, but Claire danced right around them. Another blow to its injured leg joint caused it to fall over, and a third pulverized the bone altogether.


    ¡°Wait! Stop! Any more and you¡¯re going to kill him!¡±


    Yeah, doofus. That¡¯s the point.


    The squirrel started shouting frantically, but Claire continued to feign ignorance. She spun around and raised a hand at the creature¡¯s head¡ªwhich had leapt at her from what would have been a deafer halfbreed¡¯s blind spot¡ªand pushed it with her magic. It went flying, but not far enough. She wasn¡¯t satisfied until she flung her mace at it and sent it tumbling towards the bridge.


    Her aim wasn¡¯t perfect, but that only served to add to the attack¡¯s efficacy. The severed skull fell straight into the lava, bursting into flame the moment it made contact. Knowing the beast¡¯s vitality, however, she didn¡¯t relent. She picked up her weaponised leg and thrust it into the creature¡¯s chest, right where its heart should have been. Over and over she stabbed, until the goddess finally spoke the words she had been awaiting.


    Log Entry 905


    You have slain a level 40 Corrupted Llystletein Watcher.


    This feat has earned you the following bonuses:


    - 2 points of strength


    - 1 point of dexterity


    Level 40? It was a lot weaker than the other one.


    Log Entry 906


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Halfbreed, has reached level 29.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Force Mage, has reached level 11.


    You have gained 10 ability points.


    Log Entry 907


    Cloak and Dagger has reached level 7.


    Log Entry 908


    Throwing has reached level 5.


    Picking up all her things, Claire headed straight for the chest by the bridge and flipped it open. It was surprisingly full. One corner was taken up by a small brown bag containing a number of coins, while the rest was filled with rectangular blocks made of stone. She wasn¡¯t quite sure of the rocks¡¯ purpose, but she decided to take a few of them with her nonetheless. At the very least, they seemed serviceable as projectiles. The bag was obviously retrieved as well. She didn¡¯t know much about the watchers or their corrupted counterparts, but she doubted that there was any harm in having a bit of the local currency on hand.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it. She really just killed him and took his stuff. I guess I really did misunderstand the first time. No wonder she treated me like that. What if...¡±


    The squirrel seemed to be lost in thought again, which in the halfbreed¡¯s book, was no issue at all. The more he spoke to himself, the less he would try to speak to her.


    And maybe he¡¯ll take long enough for me to get away this time.


    With that hope in mind, Claire crossed the bridge and set out to explore the settlement ahead.

 Chapter 50 - The Corruptor’s Realm IV

    Chapter 50 - The Corruptor¡¯s Realm IV


    The tunnel opened up before the Llystletein rogue as she approached its far end. Beyond the path lay a summit crater that almost seemed too spacious for the mountain sporting it. It was equal parts long and wide, a circular basin with room for the entire Cadrian capital. But the size of Valencia the settlement was not.


    Presented within the caldera was a veritable mess of ice and fire. Half of the stony walls were covered in crystalline sleet, with the rest featuring streams of lava, red hot tears that oozed from gaps in the rock.


    There was a clear effort to mitigate the risk that came with the burning magma. The molten rivers were redirected through a central pipeline that ran along the edges of the subterranean city. Just like everything else, the conduit was made of ice. And just like everything else, it was completely unaffected when exposed to heat. The tubing showed no signs of melting, even when filled to the brim with fiery rocks. There was no steam produced, nor any drops of water flowing from the points of contact. Strangely enough, it wasn¡¯t just the ice that failed to react. The lava was just as unaffected.


    Bits of scaffolding, thin tubes and large frozen plates, could be seen all over the town, glimmering beneath the light of the stars. The locals seemed to consider the sight the norm; they were casually walking across the shoddily constructed platforms as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Not a single individual was batting an eye at the multi-layered highways. The only building that lacked the supportive structures was a glacial pyramid, a triangular construct tall enough to double as the mountain¡¯s summit.


    She didn¡¯t need a guide to know that she had finally arrived. The sight that lay before her was Borrok Peak, the destination she was meant to destroy.


    What gave it away was not the architecture, but rather its inhabitants. Over three quarters were obviously borroks. The bug-monkeys were walking around like they owned the place. There were hundreds if not thousands of them gathered in the city¡¯s wide open spaces, chattering away with a mix of insectoid buzzes, monkey-like squeaks, and owlish hoots.


    Of the remaining residents, the vast majority were still at least debatably borroks, with the corrupted watcher Claire had slain serving as the perfect example. In life, the freshly dismembered corpse had sported insect-like features alongside its mammalian base. The bats, wolves, and even bears mingled in with the crowd were cut from the same cloth. They were all corrupted, all living in harmony with the freakish cat-bugs.


    Only a select few individuals¡ªlike the centaurs¡ªwere completely devoid of any insectoid body parts. Oddly enough, the pair was no longer held prisoner. Their restraints had been undone and they were casually trotting down the street alongside their supposed captor. Their humanoid features made them stand out, but much more eye-catching was their clothing. They were the only ones wearing garments made of leather and metal. Everyone else was either naked or robed in simple linens, pieces of cloth that covered them from head to toe.


    Tearing her eyes from the populace, Claire examined the scene for anything that seemed to resemble an important landmark. She didn¡¯t know much about the roles played by the sentinel and the lifegiver, and asking would likely prove too suspicious. If she wanted information, she was going to have to snoop around and find it on her own.


    Not too far from the pyramid was another noteworthy building, a large circular structure at the center of town. She couldn¡¯t discern its purpose from afar, but it vaguely reminded her of a small arena. It was well fortified, surrounded on all sides by tall walls made of bricks of ice.


    Another obvious point of interest was a manor isolated from the rest of the city. It sat on a piece of elevated ground near the back wall with a fence wrapped around it and an inordinate number of corrupted watchers patrolling the premises. All signs seemed to hint that it was a high security location in desperate need of an uninvited guest, and the rogue was more than inclined to oblige.


    Claire didn¡¯t head towards any of the three landmarks right away. She walked instead down the sloped path that led into the town square while her eyes darted around. It had been a long time since she had had the chance to wander about a settlement. Though she technically lived in Valencia, the floating manor was its own distinct ecosystem. The clouds that often gathered beneath it obscured the capital, and though there was a magical device capable of transporting her to the ground, the trips she made were infrequent. She was only allowed to descend to attend formal events. And even then, she would be kept under strict watch, both for her safety and her father¡¯s sanity. It had been nearly half a year since she last escaped her guards and explored the city unsupervised.


    After hiding her leg-spear just outside of town and confirming that she had over a hundred hours to complete her quest, she set out to see the sights. Her heart was pounding with excitement. Excitement that didn¡¯t last. Ice-based structures aside, there was very little about the borrokian settlement that stood out to the less-than-entertained observer. It was just another ordinary town with ordinary things and ordinary people. The only real distinction to be made was that it was technologically backwards. All the artifacts Valencians often used to better their everyday lives were missing.


    Given the insects¡¯ primitive, barbaric nature, she had expected there to be criminals wandering the streets and violent brawls around every corner. But try as she might, the only degenerate she could find was a corrupted watcher passed out in the middle of the road, an icy bottle of liquor still held in its fuzzy paw.


    None of the city¡¯s denizens seemed to think of it as anything out of the ordinary. They didn¡¯t react or bother themselves with moving the individual out of the way, opting instead to step over or around it as they would have any other roadblock.


    Despite seeming to understand the concept of money, hardly any borroks were engaged in the exchange of goods or services. There wasn¡¯t a single shop or stall in sight, not even in the city¡¯s central plaza. Nearly every building was either a residence or a lodge. The only exceptions she found were storage facilities and factories, housing rectangular rocks and their creators.


    They¡¯re only about as civilized as the veabers.


    Claire tried to better her understanding of the semi-mammalians by eavesdropping on their conversations¡ªa valiant effort that ended in failure. They appeared to be communicating with each other through a series of gestures and miscellaneous noises, but deciphering their language proved outright impossible. She couldn¡¯t grasp it, no matter how long she listened. In fact, she found herself coming to the exact opposite of an understanding.


    It didn¡¯t make sense for the multi-racial city to use its own language. Unlike Marish, the common tongue, the local dialect was anything but race-agnostic. The watchers were unable to make the same noises as the tiny cat-tailed gorilla beetles and vice versa. Their biological differences made it outright impossible for them to mimic each other¡¯s words.


    Though Marish was universally present, it was not necessarily applicable to all. The most common example of the odd phenomenon was the pet dog. Domesticated canines could relay their feelings to their owners through their barks and body language, but they remained incapable of learning the standard parlance; their attempts at communication went unrecognized by the pantheon, regardless of any time or effort invested. Lest they ascended, which most pets did not, they simply could not obtain the skill associated with the language even if they learned to recognize commands spoken in it. Knowing that particular bit of trivia was what led Claire to assume that the veabers were incapable of speech. Their squeaks and chatters reminded her more of barks and howls than anything intelligible. Evidently, she was wrong. The oddball that she had met earlier had proven her assumption false.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Do any of the other veabers speak Marish? Or is it just him?


    Any creature with a language skill could understand the common tongue. Marish would grow alongside whatever other vernacular the individual in question spoke, at least until it reached its fifth level. Having five completed milestones in a language skill provided the ability to more or less comprehend it, but that was all it did. It took ten to sound fluent both on paper and in person. With only five, the resulting sentences were often broken, primitive, and barbaric, like those of the watchers.


    Wandering over to the edge of town, Claire finally found a group borroks engaged in something beyond the standard fare. Unlike the others, who were chatting and running around, the individuals hanging around the suburbs were eating. The storehouses that littered the city¡¯s outer limits were filled with what she could only presume to be food. The pea-coloured goop was thick and slimy, sticking to the hands of those that consumed it. Again, no currency was exchanged. It looked to be an all you could eat buffet where any member of the settlement could partake in as little or as much as they desired. Some of the more conservative individuals were only eating small blobs, while others were out to consume half their body weight in a single sitting.


    I should eat too.


    The thought spent a few moments echoing in the back of her mind, but it was soon dismissed as she spotted a point of interest along the side of the road. To her right stood a triangular building with its pointy tip capped by a sphere. Unlike all the others, it was more purple than blue with thick walls that verged on the edge of opaque; seeing through it was as difficult as seeing through a dozen layers of stained glass, difficult, but not impossible. Three blurry borroks were stuck within the circular prison that was its second floor, unmoving, fully encased and frozen in time.


    Its sole entrance led to a room containing a massive pitfall nearly as wide as a watcher. There was a ladder running up the side opposite her, illuminated by the soft red glow that came from the underground. Its rungs were impossible to climb. The individual bars had a full halfbreed¡¯s worth of height between them. Wafting up from the pit was a foul, sulfuric scent. It reminded her of the time she had hidden a dozen eggs beneath her father¡¯s bed and forgotten about them for the better part of a month.


    A series of hoots and howls came from behind her as she moved closer to the hole. Spinning around, she found herself greeted by an eldery borrok with white fur and a full beard tucked underneath its thorax. The monster continued to grunt at her for a bit, but she couldn¡¯t figure out what it was saying. And apparently, staring at it with her head tilted and her eyes blinking didn¡¯t exactly make that clear. It took half a rant for the bug monkey to finally switch to Marish.


    ¡°You, what want?¡±


    It was glaring at her with its eyes narrowed suspiciously and its tail curved down and bristled, no doubt in part because she was an obvious foreigner.


    ¡°I was curious,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t know what this is.¡±


    ¡°This?¡± The borrok gestured towards the hole. ¡°This toilet.¡±


    Claire slowly looked between the senior and the hole. Why is there a ladder in the toilet?


    ¡°If no use, then go. Me use.¡±


    The halfbreed nodded, excused herself, and vacated the area. That part was easy. Ignoring the sounds that came from the building, however, was not.


    The trickling is just my imagination. It isn¡¯t real. And neither is the sizzling. Wait¡­ Sizzling? Claire nearly perked her ears up. Nearly. Maybe it¡¯s better if I don¡¯t find out.


    As a member of the truly enlightened, the force mage had no need to dabble in the affairs of mortals preceded by their physical urges. Her efforts were invested instead in vacating the area with her ears held close to her head. Along the way, she nearly asked herself how borroks used the bathroom in the first place, but the thought was purged from her mind right before it was fully formed. She knew better. Curiosity killed the catgirl, after all.


    Escaping the uncomfortable noise took the not-catgirl to a completely different part of town. The area right next to the crater¡¯s wall was effectively a landfill. The buildings were filled not with food, but garbage. Rotting corpses, broken equipment, and splintered bits of wood extended as far as the eye could see. Even the borroks were much fewer in number, with only the odd individual or two sleeping in the streets.


    ¡°Borroks! If you do not return the Staff of True Ice, then today is the day you die!¡±


    Claire was about to dismiss the dump and move on when an ear-piercing screech brought her eyes to the night sky above. Though it was dark, she could easily make the intruders out from the starry backdrop. Their dark ashen bodies were highlighted with a fiery red glow, an inner flame burning within their cores. Classifying them was much more difficult than perceiving them. She couldn''t tell if they were supposed to be gargoyles, sea-creatures, or both. Their frames resembled dolphins, but they were clearly made of once-molten stone. Each time they moved, their bodies would undulate, as if to swim through the air.


    The only wings they possessed were made entirely of flame. They were almost like halos, physically detached and floating directly above their dorsal fins.


    Following soon after the declaration was an attack. The supposedly aquatic creatures opened their mouths and fired pillars of flame, dying the city a bright shade of red. Though unaffected by magma, the icy buildings melted as soon as the fire made contact. It seemed like the citizens would be slaughtered, but oddly enough, the damage they suffered was inconsequential. Not a single bug-monkey fell to the initial assault. Those that were hit, even dead on, were only lightly singed.


    Such an attack was typically a formula for panic, terror, and hysteria. But none of it was anywhere to be found. Borrok Peak¡¯s residents didn¡¯t seem to mind that their homes were under attack. Even those that were awoken by the commotion were so indifferent and uncaring that they went right back to sleep.


    Claire was confused, outright bewildered by their behaviour. But an explanation soon came in the form of a defensive barrier. A dome of ice, dyed a lighter shade of blue than any of the other constructs, appeared right as the lava dolphins launched a third wave of attacks. The fire and ice clashed head on. And this time, nothing melted. The raging flames were quelled by the frosty defence.


    The dolphins didn¡¯t recoil. They reared their heads, sucked in deep breaths, and kept up the assault. But they weren¡¯t left to hammer on the protective shield for long. Bats and borroks flew from holes in the bulwark and engaged the fiery cetes head on.


    Claire found little to no joy in watching the battle. The monsters were too far away for her to make out any obvious details and she had to crane her neck all the way to stare at them. And that wasn¡¯t even the worst part. Even more annoying was the lack of spectacle. Both sides fought at a level that left Claire completely and utterly disappointed. All the participants were slow and weak, and neither party appeared capable of inflicting any sort of lasting injury.


    The only individual to catch the halfbreed¡¯s eye was a late arrival. It was, in effect, an anti-borrok. Unlike his freakish counterparts, which had monkey-like faces and beetle-like bodies, the newcomer was a monkey with a beetle for a head. Even its feline features were backwards¡ªits tail grew out of its skull while its ears adorned its rump.


    Something about the way it moved bothered her. Her lower left eyelid twitched in sync with the creature¡¯s ears, and her fists itched each time its tail flickered about. The longer she watched it, the more she wanted to clobber it senseless for reasons she had no way of explaining.


    Despite its appearance, which was strange by just about every standard, the bug-cat proved itself a skilled fighter. One of the dolphins would suffer a heavy blow each time it kicked itself off either the dome or the crater¡¯s walls.


    None of the supposedly aquatic creatures fell for good, but they retreated before long, cursing the borroks and threatening to return in the near future. Based on the locals¡¯ casual behaviour, it was likely a common occurrence.


    But even so, Claire was standing at attention. There was a chance that the anti-borrok was the sentinel. And there was clearly only one way to find out.

 Chapter 51 - The Corruptor’s Realm V

    Chapter 51 - The Corruptor¡¯s Realm V


    The icy dome overhead shattered soon after the battle¡¯s conclusion. It turned into a thousand pieces, each of which split into a million tiny shards. Beneath the disintegrating barrier, in one of the city¡¯s back alleys, was Claire. She paid little to no attention to the freshly dismantled defense mechanism. Her thoughts were focused instead on the target she was tracking. She didn¡¯t have a direct line of sight on the inverse cat-monkey, but that wasn¡¯t a problem. Her skill was providing her with an accurate estimate of its location.


    The half-insect was significantly faster than its pursuer. The amount of distance between them only seemed to grow with the passage of time, but Claire was unconcerned. Tracking¡¯s range exceeded the city¡¯s limits, and more importantly, there was no way for her to pick up the pace without arousing suspicion. Her lack of insectoid features already made her stand out enough as it was. Dashing around at top speed was sure to get her questioned¡ªor worse.


    Following the insect to its destination led Claire to the circular building that she had noted when she first scanned the city. Finally seeing it from up close, the halfbreed found herself feeling nothing but disappointment. She had known the borrokian arena was small, even when she cast her gaze upon it from afar, but she hadn¡¯t expected it to be so bland.


    Valencia¡¯s gladiator pit was an engineering marvel, a work of art that served as a prodigious architect¡¯s chef d''oeuvre. The amphitheatre before her, on the other hand, was just another boring everyday building without any particularly interesting features. It barely had any seating; the top row was a scant five levels off the ground, with each ring supporting fifty average Cadrians at most. The entire thing was of an overwhelmingly average construction. There weren¡¯t any floating VIP stands, nor did there appear to be any way to automagically transform the ring to accommodate a famed fighter''s preferences. The destruction wreaked by the dolphins had only worsened her impression. A good third of the seats had been melted beyond the point of use.


    Despite its subpar design, the borroks seemed to deem the building one of cultural importance. The arena was one of the few places that was already in the midst of being repaired. Corrupted watchers were working away at the damaged parts with pails of slush in hand. They were using their bare fingers to slather the frosty material over all the parts that were damaged, as one would a paste or ointment. Magic was the only reason any of it was sticking. The watchers used their spells to freeze the concrete replacement in place and make it a permanent feature of the structure. It was a surprisingly reasonable and well-thought out approach. Altering material that already existed was far less expensive than making something permanent from scratch.


    Claire¡¯s target was one of the many workers focused on repairing the stadium. The anti-borrok was functioning as a gopher. All of its time was spent moving buckets between the workers and the building¡¯s storage unit. Its behaviour seemed to suggest that it was just another part of the collective, and likely not the sentinel she sought, but she continued following it around nonetheless, even as it moved on and started repairing other parts of town.


    ___


    It took three hours of stalking for Claire to finally arrive at the not-sentinel¡¯s humble abode. It lived in the city¡¯s outskirts, on the side of town opposite the manor. The buildings that populated the suburb were a lot shorter than most of the others. They had three stories at most and the scaffolding didn¡¯t go anywhere near as high. The neighbourhood was located by one of the crater¡¯s far edges, but it didn¡¯t reach all the way to the stony wall. A river of magma, roughly twenty meters across, stopped it from extending any further.


    There was a decent stretch of land on the lavaway¡¯s far shore. It was large enough to be usable, but the borroks hadn¡¯t built anything on the other side. Crossing the river was no easy task and living on the other side seemed like it was more trouble than it was worth. It was a problem that the locals themselves had perpetuated. The molten stream stemmed from a natural source, a crack in a faraway wall. But at its headwater, it was thin and tiny, hardly noticeable and easily crossed. Its width was amplified tenfold by the pipe feeding into it, the very same pipe that wrapped all the way around the city.


    Glancing around and triple-checking her surroundings, Claire confirmed that her target was the only one in the immediate vicinity. The neighbouring houses were completely empty and devoid of life, but that seemed more a function of timing than it was anything else. All the nearby residences looked lived-in. There were bits and pieces of shed fur just about everywhere. Some clumps were smaller, but others came together to form large tumbleweeds that would move and roll about each time there was even the slightest hint of a breeze. At first, she thought it was because the borroks were too lazy and unhygienic to dispose of their filth, but an extended observation led to the conclusion that manual intervention was unnecessary. Any hairballs that formed were eventually blown towards the lava, turned to ash, and taken away by the ardent river.


    Claire took a deep breath as she turned to the building at the end of the street¡ªthe anti-borrok¡¯s home. Its sole resident was already inside. The creature¡¯s beetle-like face made it difficult to read, but she was at least fairly confident that it was tired. It had dragged its feet on its way home, shoulders slumped and head swaying left and right with every step. It had even stretched on a few occasions, albeit in a way more reminiscent of a cat than a monkey.


    Slowly and silently, she crept towards its house with a hand on her dagger. She couldn¡¯t tell if it was already asleep, but she highly doubted that it would be able to see her, given that it was covering its eyes with its hands. Not even her ears were able to provide any clear answers. The creature¡¯s chest was moving up and down, but she couldn¡¯t hear its breath. The only clue she had was its heartbeat, which gradually slowed with the passage of time. She didn¡¯t close the final ten meters until she was certain that it had settled into a steady rhythm.


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    Standing above it, she took a moment to look at her target from up close. If it weren¡¯t curled up, the bug-faced monkey would have stood at roughly three quarters her height, with its head making up a good third of its body. Unlike the watcher, which had a bluish white coat, the half-primate¡¯s patchy fur was a deep shade of brown. It was still injured. Its fur was singed in places and torn in others, wounds from its previous fight. By contrast, its rhino beetle-like head was unblemished; the plum purple shell was completely scratch free.


    Where should I hit it?


    She paused for a moment to consider its weaknesses. Its heart and neck came off as obvious contenders. The former was the core of its circulatory system, while the latter seemed to be made up of weak connective tissue. There was neither fur nor shell where the two distinct parts of its body met, only a ring of soft pink flesh.


    Targeting its limbs also seemed like viable options. She doubted it would be able to stay balanced if she broke its tail or shattered one of its legs, and its arms were clearly its primary means of attack. Both were safe choices. But Claire was not one to bother with safe choices.


    She went right for the half-insect¡¯s most obvious vitals. Her dagger shot towards the beast¡¯s heart while her sword flew towards its throat. The shorter, quicksilver-coated weapon was thrust between the creature¡¯s ribs while its ghostly echo burned away at its vitality. Her second soarspore-covered blade was moved back and forth like a saw. She tore through the fibres holding its neck together, over and over, as it woke up with a hysteric screech.


    A kick to the gut nearly dislodged her from her position on top of it. She was winded by the blow, but she managed to twist her sword down its gullet as she was blown away.


    Assassinate had empowered both of her attacks, but neither had done enough damage to finish the anti-borrok. The bug wasn¡¯t bothered that its body was spewing blood, nor did it seem to care that its head was on the verge of falling off.


    In fact, the borrok was the one to rid itself of its lower half¡ªlegs sprung from its head and started pushing the bloody monkey-body away. Claire couldn¡¯t help but find herself fascinated by the bizarre, horrifying sight. She almost wanted to let the borrok finish, but she knew better than to let it happen. Freezing her prey in place with Paralyzing Gaze, she spun around and threw her mace with a wide circular swing. The projectile smashed the insect¡¯s face back into its body as it made contact, its speed and power boosted by a burst of force magic. The coin-filled bag was next. She bashed the leather sack over the creature¡¯s head and let its heavy contents do the work.


    A knee followed as the bag tore at the seams. The joint had been drilled into one of the beetle¡¯s massive yellow eyes, with the other targeted soon after by a fist. Amber-coloured blood erupted from the oculi like yolk from a crushed egg. It splashed all over her outfit and dyed her cloak in its vile stench.


    With an irritated click of the tongue, the rogue reached down the cat-bug¡¯s throat and retrieved her sword. All the blood and fat covering it made it hard to grip, but that didn¡¯t stop the weapon from serving its purpose.


    Nine additional double-stabs to the face ended the battle for good, with the fifth costing her the antler. Not that she minded. The bone sword was readily replaced by the insect¡¯s freshly broken horn.


    Like all the other borroks, the warrior swelled up as the reaper took it in its grasp, but Claire was ready for it. She kicked its body out the window she had entered from and magically pushed it into another house before it went off.


    Log Entry 909


    You have slain a level 39 Borrok Warrior.


    This feat has earned you the following bonuses:


    - 1 point of agility


    - 4 points of dexterity


    - 7 points of strength


    I knew it wasn¡¯t the sentinel. That was too easy.


    The explosion happened right as Claire finished listening to the last of her log entries. The building beside hers was blown to smithereens. Chunks of ice the size of her head flew far up into the sky before crashing back down on the city. Accompanying the detonation was a rumble that pulsed through the crater. She didn¡¯t just hear the sound, she felt its power course through her bones and up her spine.


    Log Entry 910


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Halfbreed, has reached level 30.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Rogue, has reached level 39.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Force Mage, has reached level 12.


    You have gained 12 ability points.


    That¡¯s it? Claire frowned as she magically retrieved her dagger from the corpse¡¯s chest. Taking its durability into account, she felt that the monster had hardly given her its fair share of experience. Is it because it isn¡¯t Llystletein?


    Log Entry 911


    Assassinate has reached level 8.


    Log Entry 912


    Bloodthief has reached level 4.


    Log Entry 913


    Dagger Mastery has reached level 9.


    Log Entry 914


    Double Stab has reached level 9.


    Now I¡¯m even better at stabbing things.


    Log Entry 915


    Manathief has reached level 2.


    Log Entry 916


    Sneaking has reached level 11.


    Log Entry 917


    Sword Mastery has reached level 7.


    Log Entry 918


    Basic Force Manipulation has evolved into Force Manipulation. The range of your force spells has increased.


    More range is nice, but I would have liked some more spells instead.


    Claire had hardly thought anything of the borrok¡¯s explosion. It wasn¡¯t her first time seeing one, so she wound up dismissing it as she would have anything else of little consequence. But she found her outlook turned on its head. Because a second set of rumbling sounds assaulted her ears as soon as she stepped out of the house.


    Confused, the halfbreed climbed atop of the building¡¯s roof to get a better look at the situation. The moment she looked over the icy landscape was the moment she found herself face to face with a stampede. There was a veritable legion of townsfolk: borroks, corrupted watchers, warriors, bats, wolves, and bears. Every type of insectoid she had seen within the settlement was mingled into a messy bloodthirsty wave.


    A wave with its sights set on her location.

 Chapter 52 - The Corruptor’s Realm VI

    Chapter 52 - The Corruptor¡¯s Realm VI


    Claire heaved a sigh as she watched the encroaching horde advance on her location. Finding an escape route seemed next to impossible. Molten river aside, the monsters were coming from every direction. She was cut off from the tunnel and the city¡¯s translucent walls made it nearly impossible for her to sneak around undetected.


    The only upside, if there was an upside, was that the swarm didn¡¯t account for the whole city¡¯s population. She could see a clear start and end to the wave; only those within a certain distance of the explosion had bothered to react. Hardly a notable recourse.


    There wasn¡¯t any real way for her to thin out the crowd. None of her skills were particularly well suited to large scale extermination. But that wasn¡¯t to say that she was without any ideas. The halfbreed started by retreating to the river¡¯s closest bank and summoning the snake that was her trump card.


    ¡°Finally, a chance to kill things!¡± The silvery-blue serpent rose off her shoulder and craned its neck as high as it would go. Its gaze was like that of a rabid wolf¡¯s, brimming with fervour and excitement despite the unfavourable situation.


    The first to arrive were the bats, if they could even be thought of as bats. Their antennae bearing frames were adorned with disproportionately large insectoid limbs that would have looked more appropriate on grasshoppers ten times the tiny mammals¡¯ sizes. Trailing far behind the chiropterans were the borroks. Like the winged rats, the airborne half-monkeys had cared little for the terrain and its obstructions, but they were less than half as fast.


    Ramming seemed to be the monsters¡¯ primary means of attack. The leggy rodents charged straight at her as soon as they got within striking distance. And in doing so, rushed straight to their deaths.


    Claire began casting as soon as they entered her range. The mage had yet to read the freshly evolved skill¡¯s description, so she didn¡¯t know her domain¡¯s measurements off the top of her head. But she didn¡¯t need to. Something inside of her provided an intuitive understanding of her reach. At a quick glance, it felt roughly twice as large.


    The first two bats to fly too close were wrenched right out of the sky, reeled in like fish on a line. They struggled and fought back, desperately flapping their wings to fight the magic¡¯s influence, but try as they might, they were unable to overpower it. Once they were within reach of her fingers, Claire cancelled her spell, grabbed the bats by the wings, and hurled them into the lava.


    Pained screeches filled her ears as the flying rodents were set ablaze. The flames clung to them like glue, spreading from hair to skin and skin to bone. Slowly but surely, they were reduced to ashes, with no hope of survival. Their deaths were gruesome, horrifying even, but aware of all the excruciating details Claire was not. The mage had already moved on. With her eyes on a particularly dense group of rodents, the halfbreed magically wrenched two fistfulls of lava out of the river and sent them hurtling through the air. Her winged victims performed evasive maneuvers. But there was no escape, not even with their featherless pinions working overtime. Any flier that got too close to dodging was pulled straight into an amorphous glob and met a fiery doom.


    A basic loop was enough to rid Borrok Peak of its local pests. Repeating the simple but effective formula, Claire eliminated over a dozen bats before the borroks finally caught up. Like the winged rodents, the cat monkeys dove at her and leveraged their body weight as a primary means of attack. Their strikes and tackles were quick and sporadic, but they were unable to best her spirit guardian. Shouldersnake grabbed them out of the air, finished them with its fangs, and tossed their bloated corpses at the encroaching horde.


    It was an effective strategy, but also one that revealed a major miscalculation¡ªthe assumption that detonating a borrok could serve as an effective means of offense.


    Direct hits aside, only the weaker monsters suffered any real damage. None of the others seemed to care. The corrupted watchers and bears would regenerate any damage they took; entire limbs and organs were repaired and replaced in the blink of an eye. The warriors were even more indifferent. They were almost completely unaffected. The acidic explosions were incapable of getting past their fur. Even the weaker-looking wolves were unconcerned. The canines were far too quick on their feet to be caught in the borroks¡¯ detonations.


    Like the fliers, the ground dwellers didn¡¯t reach her all at once. Leading the charge was a warrior atop a wolf. Mount and rider as one, they leapt at her, fangs bared and mandibles mincing. But Shouldersnake was the first to strike. The phantom lashed out at the toothy grey dog and sank its fangs into its neck. An easy kill.


    Despite the sudden change in his momentum, the warrior never lost his balance. He leapt off his companion before it hit the ground and engaged Claire in close combat.


    She ducked and weaved past the monkey¡¯s attacks, a barrage of agile, barefisted blows. Her eyes caught most of them before they reached her. Those that she failed to see were picked up by her ears; the whistling of the wind betrayed their presence.


    Though she was never hit, the halfbreed found it nigh impossible to throw a counter. The monster¡¯s technique was too polished. Each blow was chained perfectly into the next. Hooks were followed by jabs and masked with kicks, often aimed at her legs and feet. Unnatural elbow strikes were delivered in tandem with uppercuts and headbutts, and she was even subject to an onslaught led by its tail. The flurry didn¡¯t look like it would end, no matter how many hits she evaded.


    Shouldersnake was able to get a few attacks in while she focused on dodging, but none were grievous enough to deter the anti-borrok. It didn¡¯t seem to care about any of her poisons and all the holes left by the snake¡¯s fangs would close shortly after they were inflicted.


    So she gave up on dodging.


    The mage let go of her club as she allowed the borrok to punch her in the shoulder. Her serpentine spirit arm got to work the moment the two made contact; she wrapped Shouldersnake around the warrior¡¯s limb and constricted it, locking it in place.


    Closing her fingers into a fist, she cast a spell to pull the soldier towards her. It tried to break free of her grip by pulling back, but kicking it in the shin stopped its retreat. She lashed out with her fists once she had it secured. Over and over she struck at its head. Her fingers were bloodied and broken by the repeated impacts. But so too was the creature¡¯s face.


    Its allies tried to save it. The bats and borroks tackled her and bit into her flesh, but they couldn¡¯t get her off. She didn¡¯t rise until her bones started snapping back in place.


    A group of wolves accosted her as she got to her feet, but a glare robbed them of their momentum. The only two outside her immediate field of view were stopped by force magic; the arcane vectors crashed into their feet and knocked them off balance.


    Claire wanted to use the lava to end them, as she had the bats and borroks, but she didn¡¯t have the time to cast two spells on each wolf. So she made up the difference by omitting a key step.


    Rather than redirecting the molten rocks when they neared her hands, the halfbreed opted to grab them, to transform them into a set of unforged weapons that placed function over form. She smashed the fiery cobblestones straight into the monsters¡¯ faces. Those whose mouths were open had their throats dammed shut, while those who did not found their faces broken and their brains splattered across the ice.


    Bears and corrupted watchers were dealt with similarly; she used the lava to eliminate them as quickly as they came, their staggered arrivals her saving grace.


    The reckless behaviour hurt the rogue nearly as much as it hurt her foes. Her hands were burning in agony and barely responding to her commands. Most of her skin had melted off and even her scales were blackened by the intense heat.


    But never did her injuries persist.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    She had no idea how long the killing spree lasted, but everything around her was dead by the time she finally stopped to catch her breath. The only enemies that remained were the last to arrive, a group made of three distinct units, each made up of a warrior and a trio of corrupted watchers.


    They were more cautious than the others, choosing teamwork and cooperation over blind aggression. Slowly, carefully, the group encircled her, one warrior to each of her sides and the last staring her down, face to face. Their companions filled in the gaps and cut her off from everything but the river. It was a well disciplined group. Even with the formation complete, not a single one of its members advanced until the leader, the two-tailed warrior standing directly in front of her, gave the order.


    The borrokian soldier on her left was the first to engage. It ran towards her with its fists raised and its gaze burning with bloodlust, bloodlust that was soon replaced with confusion. The snake on her shoulder grabbed it by the tail and flung it straight towards the river. If not for the corrupted watcher closest to the shore, it would have fallen in and sunk to its death.


    Second in line was the warrior on the left. It leapt at her feet first, a flying kick backed by the watcher it had used as a springboard. It was a laughably telegraphed attack. Claire was able to retrieve one of her daggers from a nearby corpse before it reached her. She moved to counter the gravity-powered attack with a blade between the monster¡¯s legs, only to find her attack intercepted by the final warrior.


    Buzzing angrily, the two-tailed freak dashed between them and punched her extended arm three times in the blink of an eye. Its attacks were so fast that she was barely able to follow its fist, let alone react. None of its attacks were even remotely close to deadly, but neither were they lacking in power. Her wrist was numbed just enough for it to knock her weapon away with another lightspeed jab.


    Frustrated, Claire pulled her hand back as she ordered Shouldersnake to attack the half-primate in her stead. The serpent lurched forward and grabbed her original target by the leg. The two-tailed monkey tried to attack the phantom and prevent the swing that followed, but to no avail. Claire twisted the serpent¡¯s body and avoided the flurry as she dunked the bug into the lava.


    As it was fully submerged, the halfbreed was fairly certain that the warrior would meet a quick and untimely demise. But she decided to hold it beneath the surface, just in case.


    In the meantime, she assaulted the two-tailed commander with a bony mace and a chitin blade. She lunged at it over and over, smashing, stabbing, and slashing with a far greater focus on speed than power. But she couldn¡¯t land a hit. The two-tail used its superior speed and technique to sidestep her blows whilst throwing a disturbing number of counters, most of which dug straight into her ribs. Each individual strike was weak and inconsequential, but the commander more than made up for its lack of strength with its aim and battle sense. She couldn¡¯t stop it from hammering her liver a dozen times over, nor could she do anything about the uppercuts that knocked her fangs out of their sockets.


    She spat all her loose teeth at the two-tail at once, only for it to deflect them with the back of its fist. A major problem. Just like the warrior behind her. The one-tailed beast had started attacking her defenseless back right after she engaged its boss. The sound produced by its fists allowed her to evade them, but dodging came at a cost. The two-tail would hit her with extra force every time she responded to its partner.


    A blast of fire and ash rocked the shoreline right as her health hit the one third mark. And with it came Shouldersnake¡¯s triumphant return. The serpent grabbed her bone dagger on its way back and blinded the insect behind her with a quick two-pronged strike to the eyes.


    The corrupted watchers stepped forward to take its place, but they stood down following a loud buzz from the two-tail. They tried to retrieve the blinded borrok as they backpedaled, but the phantom on her shoulder didn¡¯t allow the retreat. It ripped the warrior out of their hands and snapped its legs as it chucked it into the river headfirst.


    Panting heavily, Claire raised her fists and took half a step towards the final threat. From an outsider¡¯s perspective, the battle looked like it required little effort on her part. But while it was true that Shouldersnake was doing most of the work, the ghastly spirit was anything but fully autonomous. She was in control, and it was her mana it expended, both to act and to maintain itself. But that was not why she was tired. The most exhausting part of all was the psychic link between them.


    Keeping the snake¡¯s bottomless wrath at bay was not by any means part of the equation. If anything, she was basking in its rage, using it as fuel to keep herself standing. The difficulty came instead from their shared senses. She could see everything it saw, hear everything it heard, and feel everything it felt. A blessing and a curse. Though she was able to control its body as naturally as she could her own, its speedy, erratic movements made for a series of vomit-inducing acrobatics that were much easier to describe than perform. Dipping the snake into the lava had only served to further worsen the experience; there was too much heat and light. None of it caused her any pain or grief, but processing the excess of information and dealing with a whole extra body was rapidly draining her mental energies. She was only able to sustain it in extended combat because that too was a resource that leveling up restored.


    And level up she did.


    Her second warrior kill took a load off her mind and flooded her with equal parts dopamine and adrenaline. In a matter of moments, she went from having blurred vision to seeing perfectly, from woozy to clear-minded, and from worn down to fully refreshed.


    Unlike most of the other things she had fought, her opponent seemed to understand that the path to victory could not be paved with corpses. That was why it had ordered the corrupted watchers to back away. With the lava at her disposal, they were easy kills, foolish targets to be reaped and converted to experience. Just like all its other fallen comrades.


    But in a strict one versus one, Claire¡¯s weaponised danger noodle forced it on the defensive. It had to focus on the snake if it didn¡¯t want to follow in its comrades¡¯ footsteps. When it did retaliate, it did so cautiously. It never committed to its attacks, and she was always given plenty of time to react. What made the situation even worse for the borrok was the halfbreed¡¯s adaptability. She was getting used to its technique, learning the barehanded martial art that served as the cornerstone of its battle prowess.


    She started landing more hits as the exchange dragged on. Her blows grew sharper, faster, and more accurate. The monkey¡¯s footwork was used as an example to improve her own. She started twisting her hips with each strike and angling her fists to deliver precise attacks on the monkey¡¯s joints and vitals.


    Before long, the borrok was the one with its back to the river. She started pressuring it with its own techniques, quick jabs, masked by powerful kicks and deadly hooks. Both its arms were soon broken by her relentless assault.


    Once she got its legs, she knew it was time for the final execution. She drew her mace, raised it overhead, and took a deep breath as she moved to make its face one of its chest¡¯s permanent features.


    Only to be stopped by a bolt from the blue.


    A dagger-sized shard of ice flew past her and embedded itself into the wall opposite the river. Followed by another. And another. And another. Glancing towards the source of the attack, she spotted a second group of borroks atop a set of nearby buildings, a dozen or so individuals with the left halves of their bodies as bugs and the right halves as monkeys. Their ears and tails sat on the sides of their waists. Still incorrectly placed, but less so than the warriors.


    They were mages. Another variant specialised for combat.


    Standing around the casters was a score of warriors, guards to stop her from getting in melee range, guards that were completely unnecessary. The spells alone were more than enough to keep her at bay. She couldn¡¯t deal with them. At least one icicle was flying at her at any given point in time and some were even led, shot exactly where she was about to step.


    Even without the ability to discern an insects¡¯ expressions, Claire was well aware that the two-tail was giving her the equivalent of a smug grin. Its body was relaxed, in spite of its broken bones, and it was chittering quietly, as if to flaunt its victory.


    With an irritated hiss, the halfbreed kicked the two-tail into the lava, magically retrieved the rest of her weaponry, and dashed through the corrupted watchers¡¯ legs. Some of them had already died where they stood. Their allies had shot spells right through them in an attempt to slay her.


    She tried sprinting into the suburb to use the buildings as cover, but the projectiles cleaved through them without the slightest bit of difficulty. They didn¡¯t even slow down as they made contact with the walls. In fact, they seemed to do the opposite. Any spell that passed through a structure accelerated. The hastened projectiles were so fast that not even Shouldersnake was able to react. One nailed Claire right in the side and broke several ribs while another got her in the shoulder and disabled her left arm. They embedded themselves into her flesh, freezing in place after making contact.


    The halfbreed grimaced, but bore with the pain. Her destination was already in sight. She just needed to push a tiny bit further.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do it, Claire. It isn¡¯t worth it.¡±


    A malformed, palm-sized pony appeared on Claire¡¯s shoulder as she rounded the final corner. The ghastly creature, which happened to be wearing a tophat for reasons unknown, was scowling in displeasure.


    ¡°Please, Claire, listen to me. I do not even wish to begin imagining how filthy it is. It isn¡¯t worth your pride, our pride.¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡± She screamed as another pair of spells pierced one of her legs.


    ¡°But you don¡¯t even know what¡¯s down there. It may very well be just as unsafe. They could even continue their pursuit.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll just have to find out the hard way.¡±


    Ignoring the horse¡¯s hesitation, Claire dashed into the oddly-shaped purple building and leapt straight down its sulfur-scented pit.

 Chapter 53 - The Corruptor’s Realm VII

    Chapter 53 - The Corruptor¡¯s Realm VII


    The environment turned into a blur as the halfbreed plummeted down the drain. Every moment that passed came with an increase in the surrounding temperature; what started as a tunnel made of ice and snow quickly gave way to a hellscape of fire and brimstone, a canvas of burning ash, bubbling lava, and noxious gas. The waves of heat that emanated from the active volcano caused the terrain to shimmer and waver as would a distant oasis obscured by a thousand dunes. Pits of molten rock extended as far as the eye could see, dotted around like cells in a honeycomb. Each hole featured a frozen ladder, a less-than-subtle reminder of the wintery world that lay beyond.


    With a mitted hand, Claire grabbed onto an icy rung just five meters above the lava line. She heaved bloodied, laboured breaths, one after another, as she finally cast her gaze on her body and looked over her wounds.


    The icicles had already melted. The holes they left in her body were still bleeding profusely, but she wasn¡¯t worried. Her health regeneration would fix her up in a matter of hours. But in the meantime, she was plagued by a seemingly endless amount of pain. Her whole body was practically screaming in agony.


    She couldn¡¯t move her injured shoulder, and her frostbitten leg wasn¡¯t much better off. Worse yet was the shortness of her breath. The icicle that had pierced her side had torn open one of her lungs; breathing was nearly beyond her.


    She didn¡¯t want to move. She felt too heavy, too lethargic, too exhausted. It took imagining the consequences of borrokian indigestion for the halfbreed to finally convince herself to get off the ladder. With a swing and a kick, she landed on a nearby rock, took off her glove, and threw it aside.


    I¡¯m not wearing that again until I wash it.


    Grimacing, Claire staggered away from the less-than-sanitary mit and raised her head to look upon the manual elevator. She kept both her eyes and ears trained on it for a good minute, but there was nothing to see but plumes of lava and clouds of volcanic ash. Neither was there anything to hear. Even strained, her ears heard only the bubbling and sizzling of magma. She wasn¡¯t being pursued.


    Unlike the city above, the supposed sewage system was too hot for comfort. Claire wasn¡¯t just sweating anymore¡ªshe was burning. Her scales were fine but her skin was turning a deep shade of red. The rogue had to regularly douse her toes with stale water to relieve the pain and boost her health regeneration back up to its usual speed.


    ¡°You see, Claire, this is why you should have trusted my genius. It¡¯s awful down here,¡± grumbled Shoulderhorse. ¡°It¡¯s so hot that my beautiful mane¡¯s going to burn!¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t burn. You don¡¯t exist.¡±


    ¡°She would if you summoned her.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be silly, Shouldersnake,¡± said the horse. ¡°I¡¯d rather not be summoned unless there¡¯s something to eat. The borroks seemed rather delectable, but I can¡¯t say I¡¯m fond of all these rocks. They¡¯re not spicy enough on their own.¡±


    Claire gave the horse a horrified look before quickly dismissing it with a wave of her hand. She didn¡¯t want to imagine how the bug-monkeys tasted, let alone the sight of the poorly proportioned quadruped ravenously devouring one. The snake was also sent away. It had already had more than its fair share of fun.


    ¡°I should¡¯ve expected mages.¡±


    The halfbreed muttered to herself as she limped over to a nearby rock and sat down. She almost opened her log the moment she was settled, but stopped as she caught herself in the act. Shutting her eyes, she let her arms fall to her sides and did her best to relax. She even tried meditating, clearing her mind of any unwanted thoughts. But it didn¡¯t work. She just couldn¡¯t sit still.


    ¡°I might¡¯ve died if one of these hit me where it mattered.¡±


    Claire mumbled to herself as she looked at her leg and traced a finger around the open wound. Touching it made her wince, but she kept poking at the gaping hole nonetheless. Something about the act fascinated her, but she couldn¡¯t quite explain what. It was just as impossible to resist as picking at a scab.


    ¡°Maybe I should¡¯ve tried throwing lava at them.¡±


    The rogue sighed as she stuck her finger through the opening and wiggled it around.


    ¡°What am I doing?¡± With another pained wheeze, she tore her gaze off her wound, propped her hand up against her knee, and opened her log. ¡°I might as well get it over with.¡±


    Alert


    You have accrued a large number of log entries. These have been summarised below.


    You have slain the following:


    - 4 level 35~48 Borrok Warriors


    - 9 level 30~40 Corrupted Watchers


    - 15 level 12~20 Corrupted Barbearians


    - 19 level 23~29 Corrupted Frost Wolves


    - 34 level 7~15 Corrupted Lesser Vampire Pups


    - 37 level 17~24 Borroks


    Contrary to her expectations, she wasn¡¯t stuck listening to an hour-long documentary. She was greeted instead by a second box overlaid on top of the first, a box embroidered with a fancy gold trim and topped with an auric wreath.


    Three of these kills have granted you feats in the form of first time kill bonuses. In total, you have been awarded the following:


    - 3 points of agility


    - 10 points of dexterity


    - 1 point of spirit


    - 6 points of strength


    - 8 points of vitality


    - 17 points of wisdom


    You have unlocked three spawnable drink items.


    The voice was always monotonous and flat, but something about the way it went over the details made Claire think that it was even less enthused than usual.


    The experience you have accumulated has resulted in the following level ups:


    - Halfbreed has leveled from 30 to 35


    - Llystletein Rogue has leveled from 39 to 43


    - Llystletein Force Mage has leveled from 12 to 27


    Level up bonuses have increased your ability scores by the following:


    - 10 agility


    - 10 dexterity


    - 20 spirit


    - 30 wisdom


    Why are there so many halfbreed levels? I don¡¯t think I did anything differently.


    You have been awarded the following bonuses for reaching Llystletein Force Mage¡¯s 25th milestone:


    - The Catgirl Detector V. 0.17 class skill


    - 40 points of spirit


    - 60 points of wisdom


    You have gained a total of 98 ability points.


    Llystletein Force Mage has attempted to evolve into Llystletein Cat Pimp, but a divine entity has interrupted this process on your behalf. Your heartfelt gratitude is to be directed to the goddess of the eternal flow.


    Claire spent a moment giving the box a miffed glare before giving up and pressing a hand to her temple. ¡°Fine. You win this one, Box. Thank you.¡±


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    You have acquired the Basic Fire Resistance skill.


    The proficiency that you have accumulated has resulted in the following skill level ups:


    - Basic Fire Resistance has leveled from 1 to 2


    - Bloodthief has leveled from 4 to 6


    - Club Mastery has leveled from 9 to 10


    - Dagger Mastery has leveled from 9 to 10


    - Double Stab has leveled from 9 to 10


    - Force Manipulation has leveled from 1 to 7


    - Lashing Tailstrike has leveled from 1 to 2


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery has leveled 10 to 13


    - Manathief has leveled from 2 to 5


    - Paralyzing Gaze has leveled from 3 to 4


    - Throwing has leveled from 5 to 6


    - Unarmed Combat Mastery has leveled from 7 to 9


    ¡°Lashing tailstrike?¡± It took a few moments for Claire to process that the unfamiliar skill was one of the abilities derived from her racial class. ¡°Did it start leveling because Shouldersnake counts?¡±


    You have unlocked 3 new consumables:


    - Slaying a Corrupted Barbearian has unlocked Bearchst, a hearty meat stew.


    - Slaying a Corrupted Frost Wolf has unlocked White Wolf Wine, an alcoholic beverage.


    - Slaying a Corrupted Lesser Vampire Pup has unlocked the Bat Bagel Sandwich, a gluten-based food item.


    ¡°Maybe this ¡®minor blessing¡¯ isn¡¯t as much of a curse as I thought it was.¡± Claire ran her eyes over the list as the box went silent. There was a lot to take in, but seeing it all at once was far better than having to go through the entries one by one.


    After a big stretch and a second quick scan, the halfbreed closed the gilded window. She was about to do the same to the log itself, but another gold-bordered box popped up and interrupted her before she could.


    This log summary service has been brought to you by the goddess of the eternal flow. Please be aware that it is not complimentary. If you wish for similar services in going forward, then you are required to submit a prayer immediately prior. If the prayer is missing or not deemed sufficient, the service will not activate and your log entries will be read to you one at a time.


    The halfbreed sat perfectly still for a good ten seconds before deciding that there was no point in fighting the urge to scowl. She doubted that the goddess would¡¯ve failed to see through her either way.


    ¡°This is extortion,¡± she grumbled. Stupid curse. I knew I spoke too soon.


    This is not extortion. It is bribery.


    A new line of text appeared directly underneath the last.


    ¡°They¡¯re the same thing.¡±


    Extortion would involve threatening to cause harm. Bribery involves offering a boon. If you were any less ignorant, then you would have no trouble processing the difference.


    ¡°Sure, Box. Whatever you say.¡±


    If you are to listen to what I say, then you will stop being irreverent and worship me as is due.


    ¡°No.¡±


    You have prayed to Builledracht 361 times. As your patron deity, I am owed at least twice that number.


    ¡°Why do you know that? That¡¯s creepy.¡±


    It is in the logs. A simple query retrieves the information in the matter of moments. Now I will do no more explaining. If you wish for my blessing to continue serving its purpose, then you need only pray.


    ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± said Claire. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be a proper prayer anyway. I don¡¯t even know your name.¡±


    ¡­


    ¡°And even if I was to pray, it would be to Builledracht. He¡¯s a better god than you. At least people know who he is.¡±


    ¡­


    Victory is sweet.


    With a satisfied smirk, Claire closed her log and got to her feet. Her wounds were hardly any better, but she was getting tired. She needed to find a place to rest, out of reach of any potential hazards.


    Smooth, however, the plan went not. A wave of annoyance was beamed straight into her mind right as she finished dusting herself off. Her log was closed and there was no way for her to see any of the goddess¡¯ messages anymore, but it was clear, from the way that the foreign emotion was prodding at the back of her mind, that the divine was refusing to leave her alone.


    It wasn¡¯t that bad at first; Claire was confident that she could tolerate it for as long as need be. But her opinion slowly started to change as she was subjected to it time and time again. She went from smug to bothered as she dragged herself over to her mitten, bothered to annoyed as she started washing it, and annoyed to overwhelmingly irritated by the time it stopped smelling of filth.


    Log Entry 1082


    Detect Force Magic has reached level 12.


    The straw that broke the camel¡¯s back was the log entry. Hearing the Goddess¡¯ voice again led the rogue to shout as she smacked a fist into the nearest burning hot wall.


    ¡°Fine! You can have a stupid prayer! Just shut up and leave me alone!¡±


    Log Entry 1083


    You have received a divine revelation:


    :)


    ¡°I hate you, Box. I really do.¡±


    Claire sighed as she double checked her belongings for anything that could serve as an offering. Nothing she had on hand was of any value. Her weapons were makeshift and clothes were full of holes, shoddily made, or both.


    ¡°Maybe that¡¯s good enough for an annoying goddess like her.¡±


    The watcher-based cloak was the ex-ritual mage¡¯s item of choice. It was sweaty, bloodstained, and did little but add to her discomfort, even whilst tied around her waist. She had recognized its continued presence as a burden by the time she entered the city, but she hadn¡¯t been able to bring herself to discard it even though she knew that it could be readily replaced. Acquiring a duplicate involved little beyond silently eliminating another yeti or two, and the city had hundreds to spare.


    Laying the freshly folded cloak down in front of her, Claire sat down on her knees, closed her eyes, and clasped her hands together in her lap. It was a traditional posture adopted by Cadrian priests and ritual mages from all walks of life.


    ¡°O goddess of the eternal flow, the almighty shepherd of souls and the fairest of all seven realms. I offer to you a warrior¡¯s pride, a garment crafted by my own two hands and soaked in their blood. May you accept it and continue to ever grant me your guidance.¡±


    The words were blatantly dressed up and ingenuine, as they so often were in prayers, but they were accepted nonetheless. Her offering was gone by the time she opened her eyes, taken by the realm above.


    ¡°Now leave me alone,¡± grumbled the halfbreed.


    Log Entry 1084


    Llystletein Authority¡¯s safe zone is no longer cooling down. You may now create another, however, you may not have two safe zones at once. Creating a second safe zone will destroy your first.


    The goddess¡¯ voice echoed in her mind the moment she finished complaining, almost as if to spite her. Had the message been any less pleasing, she would likely have thrown a fit. But as it stood, she was greatly relieved. The safe zone would provide her with all of the security she needed to get a good night¡¯s rest.


    Log Entry 1085


    You have created a safe zone. Other entities cannot enter it without your permission while you are present. The safe zone will be deactivated if a hostile entity enters while you are away. It can be reactivated by defeating all nearby hostiles.


    Log Entry 1086


    Llystletein Authority has reached level 5.


    ___


    Claire


    Health: 287/602


    Mana: 2135/2380


    Health Regen: 228/hour


    Mana Regen: 1696/hour


    Ability Scores - 153 Points Available


    - Agility: 135


    - Dexterity: 154


    - Spirit: 181


    - Strength: 163


    - Vitality: 114


    - Wisdom: 424


    Racial Class: Halfbreed - Level 35.62


    - Lashing Tailstrike - Level 2.17


    - Paralyzing Gaze - Level 4.41


    - Quadrupedal Bloodrush - Level 1.01


    Primary Class: Llystletein Rogue - Level 43.29


    - Assassinate - Level 8.14


    - Bloodthief - Level 6.81


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 7.48


    - Double Stab - Level 10.04


    - Envenom - Level 11.11


    - Manathief - Level 5.86


    Secondary Class: Llystletein Force Mage - Level 27.70


    - Basic Force Resistance - Level 3.57


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 12.13


    - Force Manipulation - Level 7.05


    - Catgirl Detector V. 0.17 - Level 1.00


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 2.00


    - Basic Fire Resistance Level 2.09


    - Club Mastery - Level 10.43


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 10.64


    - Dancing - Level 6.12


    - Digging - Level 10.27


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 5.10


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 13.69


    - Marish - Level 19.02


    - Sewing - Level 1.42


    - Sneaking - Level 11.32


    - Spear Mastery - Level 3.82


    - Sword Mastery - Level 7.27


    - Throwing - Level 6.40


    - Tracking - Level 8.70


    - Unarmed Combat Mastery - Level 9.53

 Chapter 54 - The Corruptor’s Realm VIII

    Chapter 54 - The Corruptor¡¯s Realm VIII


    Claire kneaded the bridge of her nose as her consciousness returned from the brink. She was still groggy, only barely awake with her unfocused gaze still settled on the non-existent person that had spent the night standing before her. The previous evening was one of the worst she had ever experienced, and he was undoubtedly one of the key reasons. Pain was another factor, but unlike the man and his ghost, her agony had failed to persist through the night. Of the five times she had awoken, four were trauma-free. Her wounds had closed by the second time she escaped her dreams; her bloodied, tattered clothes served as the only remaining evidence of her suffering.


    Adding to her irritation was the ambient temperature. She had spent the past ten-odd hours drenched in sweat. A whole stomach¡¯s worth of water was required to rehydrate her every time she opened her eyes. Staving off her thirst that accompanied the unfriendly biome was tiresome, but still far better than the lucid nightmares that plagued her subconscious. The unkempt ghost that haunted her dreams had decided to forgo his previous efforts¡ªwhatever they were¡ªin favour of watching himself eat. Together, they had spent the better part of twelve hours staring at his body as it gorged itself on lobsters, boars, and bulls. Everything he ate, he devoured deliciously. Vegetables, grains, and meats were all thoroughly enjoyed.


    His joy came hand in hand with the halfbreed¡¯s displeasure. It had been over a week since she had eaten anything decent. The soarspore fruit was the only morsel she had come even remotely close to enjoying, and it had been delivered alongside five whole minutes of irritation.


    Though Claire didn¡¯t think of herself as a picky eater, let alone a gourmet, she wasn¡¯t used to being deprived of food that tasted at least as good as it looked. The closest thing she had experienced to her current dilemma was the month-long trip that she had taken to Tal¡¯ihir. But even that was more forgiving. While the local cuisine hadn¡¯t suited her tastes, she was at least able to discern that, unlike the flavourless unappetizing garbage Llystletein Authority produced, it was crafted with all the care that a refined palette like hers deserved.


    ¡°Maybe I was just unlucky. There could be something really tasty that I just haven¡¯t chosen yet.¡±


    She didn¡¯t believe the claim, but she said it out loud to reinforce her fading hope as she opened the skill and read through the list.


    Llystletein Authority


    Actions


    - Establish Safe Zone (Cooldown: 7 days)


    - Expunge Waste As Mana (200MP)


    Spawnable Drinks


    - Borroqua Velva (100MP)


    - Cosmogoblitan (50MP)


    - Mimicosa¡î (500MP)


    - Raven Rocket Fuel (100MP)


    - Stale Water (25MP)


    - White Wolf Wine (150MP)


    Spawnable Food


    - Bat Bagel Sandwich (150MP)


    - Bearchst (400MP)


    - Borrok Brain Sashimi (250MP)


    - Fried Frog Wings (300MP)


    - Grilled Veaber Tail¡î(2000MP)


    - Hellhog Bolognese (500MP)


    - Pulled Orc (150MP)


    - Spicy Shaman Sundae¡î(3500MP)


    - Stale Bread (25MP)


    - Toadem Tiramisu¡î(2500MP)


    - Watcha Burger¡î(3250MP)


    She took a moment to glance between her status and her options before settling on the upgraded Grilled Veaber Tail. It cost nearly all of her mana, but her curiosity outweighed both her caution and her concern; she was still in her safe zone and it would only take a little over an hour for the resource to replenish.


    With the dish selected and her mana gradually taking shape in her hand, the halfbreed looked back to her ability scores with a frown. Spirit and wisdom were growing like weeds even without her input. Llystletein Force Mage was providing an absurd number of points from level ups alone, so she refrained from investing in either despite the suspicion that wisdom was nearing another threshold.


    ¡°Such a shame. We would have known if you paid more attention during your lessons,¡± said Shoulderhorse, who had appeared on her right.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you do it then?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Oh, you silly little thing. You know that¡¯s impossible. I had my hands full just eating and sleeping. Even as beautiful and wise as I am, I couldn¡¯t have possibly paid Allegra any attention.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes and turned to her other shoulder, where she found a serpent awkwardly averting its gaze.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look at me,¡± said Shouldersnake. ¡°I¡¯m deaf.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you are. Now go away. I¡¯m not going to feel bad about putting more points into strength,¡± muttered the halfbreed, ¡°even if you are staring at me.¡±


    The snake hissed. ¡°I¡¯m innocent. I just want to kill things.¡±


    ¡°And I am only present because I would like to eat the veaber tail. I would also not mind living vicariously by watching as you eat it in my stead,¡± whickered the horse.


    Ignoring both suspects, Claire looked back towards her points and heaved a bit of a sigh. She had no idea where she was supposed to put them. The more she thought about each attribute, the more important it seemed. She wouldn¡¯t have struggled as much with the two-tailed borrok¡¯s speed if she had more agility, and an increase in her dexterity would have provided her an easier time against its technique. Likewise, investing in brute force was always an option. She wouldn¡¯t have needed as many hits with more strength, and she was well aware that particularly powerful blows were capable of crippling her foes.


    ¡°I might as well put a few points in each.¡±


    ¡°Anything but that,¡± said Shouldersnake with a groan. ¡°We need to specialise.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said you just wanted to kill things.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but it¡¯ll be easier to kill things if you don¡¯t mess up your stats.¡±


    ¡°Do be a dear and listen to her, Claire. She¡¯s quite right,¡± agreed Shoulderhorse.


    The halfbreed spent a few moments looking between her shoulders. ¡°Fine,¡± she sighed. ¡°What do you want me to do?¡±


    ¡°Put it all in agility and dexterity,¡± said Shouldersnake.


    ¡°Or spirit,¡± said Shoulderhorse.


    ¡°Can it pony, you¡¯re the only one that gets anything from spirit. Claire and I both scale off my suggestions.¡±


    ¡°Why not strength?¡± asked Claire. ¡°It¡¯ll help me stab things in the face.¡±


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    ¡°So will more speed and finesse. Why settle for stabbing something once when you can stab it five times fast?¡±


    ¡°That does seem better.¡±


    Claire paused for a moment to think before dumping just over a hundred points in agility and splitting the rest between dexterity and vitality. Boosts to her alacrity were much less common than bonuses to the deftness of her hands; rogue classes were known for providing the latter and the Llystletein variant was no different. But that, of course, was not the only reason she had skewed her investment so heavily.


    Far more important than the attribute¡¯s ease of access was the relative efficacy of each point she spent. With the sheer volume she had at her disposal, there was no reason not to push agility over its next threshold, and Claire had done just that; the stat now sat at an even 250 points.


    Surely enough, the results were immediately apparent. Lightly jabbing at the air with her free hand, the halfbreed confirmed that she was several times faster than she was just the previous night. The speed came alongside a minor loss of control, but she hardly cared. Her hands only felt clumsier when she moved them around at their new top speed.


    ¡°There, happy?¡±


    ¡°Very.¡± The snake hissed as it bobbed its head up and down.


    ¡°Let¡¯s stop thinking about stats and start thinking about food,¡± said Shoulderhorse. ¡°The dish is almost ready.¡±


    Claire followed the horse¡¯s gaze, only to freeze in place with her eyes wide. The earthenware plate had taken on an eyebrow-raising shape. It was roughly the same width as it was before, but its length was over a dozen times that. It was so long that it spanned the width of the path she was on and then some. Both ends were suspended over the lava.


    She didn¡¯t blink until the dish suddenly marked itself complete by quintupling in height and falling into her hands. Her reaction was a bit delayed, but she was quick enough to prevent it from capsizing. The only thing that spilled was a bit of the garlicky sauce.


    Presentation was one of the upgrade¡¯s main differentiators. Unlike its predecessor, which had borne an aesthetic emphasizing luxury and quality, the star-marked dish placed quantity first. It had veaber tails stacked as high as they would go, with the peak standing at over ten tails tall. Much to the rogue¡¯s annoyance, the improved version was no more delicious than the cheaper single instance. The flesh contained in the rocky lobster-like shells was just as bland and tough as she recalled. Not even the sauce was any better. It was basically oil; tasteless, odorless lard.


    ¡°Ughhh,¡± groaned the halfbreed. ¡°Did I really just spend 2000 mana on this?¡±


    ¡°Your tastebuds must be broken. Please, allow me. Such good food does not deserve to be put to waste.¡±


    Shoulderhorse stepped forward with its head held high and its dark brown eyes glimmering with excitement. Loud wheezes left its throat as it proved itself a brain-damaged mouth breather with no hope of recovery.


    Claire glanced at her mana before offering a response. ¡°You know what? Fine.¡±


    One spell later, the imaginary mutant was made real. Like its ophidian counterpart, the equine spirit came alongside both a thorough understanding of its abilities and the burden that was its creed. Its actualisation inspired in her equal parts lethargy, gluttony, and vanity. She felt like it was her god-given right to stand above others, to show off her beautiful ears as she indulged the pleasures that came with food, inaction, and catgirls. The foreign desires were so powerful that she almost found herself tempted to consume another veaber tail. Not that she would have been able to, with Shoulderhorse beating her to the punch.


    The gourmand made a beeline for the plate the moment it phased into existence. It dashed to one of the elongated dishes¡¯ far ends, running across the air as if it were nothing but more solid ground, before opening its mouth wide and putting its lungs to work. The food was inhaled; the horse sucked up the entire plate in a single breath. All the vegetables and veaber tails vanished into the pony¡¯s gullet in what almost seemed to be the blink of an eye. Not even the dinnerware was spared; the ceramic dish was absorbed alongside its contents.


    Without magic, it would have been an unbelievable sight. Unlike the almost two meter long snake, Shoulderhorse was tiny enough to comfortably sit in the palm of Claire¡¯s hand. It did have a rather strange set of proportions, but the size of the phantom equine¡¯s mouth suggested that it shouldn¡¯t have been possible for it to ingest even a single veaber tail without breaking the hearty morsel up into a dozen smaller meals.


    ¡°Delicious, absolutely delectable,¡± sang the tiny black hole. ¡°All these years, I¡¯ve had to do nothing but watch as you ate your fill. But now¡­ now, I can finally taste for myself!¡±


    ¡°It was disgusting,¡± groaned Claire. She was struggling to fight back the urge to spit. She had tasted everything the horse had ingested, the flavours and textures mingled together into an overwhelmingly bland concoction with a vomit-like mouth feel. Not even the horse¡¯s influence had allowed her to derive any enjoyment from the meal.


    ¡°You, my dear, are just too picky.¡±


    ¡°Whatever you say, horsey.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes as she dismissed the overeater¡ªwho had started consuming the inordinately unsanitary magma for reasons she failed to understand¡ªgot to her feet, and doused herself in water. She didn¡¯t have much mana remaining. The equine spirit guardian had drained her of every last drop she had regenerated, and it had taken less than a minute to finish its meal. That, however, didn¡¯t stop the halfbreed from getting a move on. There were no monsters in sight and her most dependable spell, Apply Force, was so cheap that she didn¡¯t have to care too much about the resource¡¯s depletion. She was sure to have enough for a fight by the time she got into one.


    ¡°Which way do I go?¡±


    She reached into her pouch and tried to retrieve her candle, only to find that it had become a glob of grease. The mitten sitting in the waist bag was equally as unusable; the whole thing had been thoroughly doused in a layer of liquid wax.


    ¡°Stupid heat.¡±


    The bluescale groaned as she scanned the environment for clues. It didn¡¯t quite seem to matter which way she looked. There were nothing but magmatic honeycombs for as far as the eye could see. The only time that changed was when she turned her gaze upwards and focused on the icy tunnels overhead. She knew she was going to have to get back up eventually. It was only a question of where and when.


    Of the two unknowns, ¡®when¡¯ was the one that was more easily answered. She needed to get back to the city as quickly as she could. Her quest timer had ticked down to 83 hours and she had yet to locate either of her targets. ¡®Where,¡¯ on the other hand, was a tad more difficult to explain. Each of the countless ladders was a workable way out, with the hole she had dropped down from the only exception. If their general is anything like my father, they¡¯ll have stationed some guards outside it.


    Triggering the alarm was far from the wisest choice. The boost to Claire¡¯s speed armed her with the confidence that she would be able to take down the warriors with ease, but she still had no idea how she was supposed to deal with the mages. She suspected that she would be able to make an escape if the squad she had encountered was the city¡¯s only mage corps, but the halfbreed was not so naive as to assume that to be the case. There were sure to be more of them. And if too many mages showed up at once, she would be doomed, even with her speed at twice its previous value.


    ¡°I¡¯ll just look for another hole,¡± she muttered, as she walked off in a random direction, ¡°maybe one that isn¡¯t as filthy.¡±


    Her eyes turned back to her status as she wandered about, settling almost immediately on her two newest skills.


    Basic Fire Resistance - Level 2


    Congratulations. You have learned that fire is hot. This skill will aid you in avoiding harm should you continue to light yourself on fire. Please be aware that while the defenses provided by this skill are formidable, grasping literal balls of lava with your bare hands remains injudicious under any circumstances. The pursuit of common sense is advised.


    Effects


    - The damage that you take from fire-based damage is reduced by 12% (10% + 1% per level)


    I don¡¯t think there¡¯s such a thing as a Common Sense skill, Box.


    Catgirl Detector V. 0.17 - Level 1


    Despite your inexplicable preference for catgirls, you do not always find yourself capable of identifying them at a glance. This skill will aid you in your misguided endeavours in exchange for further distorting your already disturbing view of the heavenly realm.


    Effects


    - Amplifies the effect of the Catgirl Enthusiast achievement


    - You are capable of discerning the precise extent to which anything is or is not a catgirl


    - This skill will activate automatically in the presence of any individual that is systematically related to or associated with catgirls


    Requirements


    - Any two level 25 or higher Llystletein classes


    - Acquired the Catgirl Enthusiast achievement


    Why? Why does this exist?


    With a tired sad sigh, the halfbreed closed all her boxes and continued on her way.

 Chapter 54.5 - The Librarian, the Pervert, and the Grouch

    Chapter 54.5 - The Librarian, the Pervert, and the Grouch


    Sylvia Redleaf hummed a mesmerising tune as she went about her everyday chores. Most of them had already been completed; it was late into the afternoon, and the orange fuzzball had spent the entire day adulting. She caught three fish, dug a dozen holes, and peed on every sleeping mirewulf she came across. They were all principal duties, but none were as important as the responsibility that had eaten the latter half of her day, chasing butterflies around the meadow.


    The proctor was by no means the dungeon¡¯s best bugchaser, but what she lacked in skill, she made up for with diligence. She never shirked her duty, often putting extra hours despite openly voicing a countless number of complaints. She knew how important it was. The lost library couldn¡¯t possibly retain its function without all its monarchs herded. Failing to redirect them could amount to a torch¡¯s untimely death and a subsequent deviation from the plan¡ªnot that the plan was always followed to begin with. Her own birth served as quintessential evidence to the contrary.


    ¡°Finally! That took forever. I can¡¯t believe this one ran all the way to Borrok Peak. Geez,¡± huffed the fox.


    She had been active for more than seven consecutive hours, but her magic had kept her from tiring. The vixen had next to no stamina. Without the occasional vigour-restoring note, she would have found herself long beyond the brink of exhaustion. A perfect illustration of the duality of bardkind.


    ¡°I wonder what Claire¡¯s up to.¡± Sylvia yawned as she stood up on her hind legs and stretched her spine.


    ¡°Care to find out?¡± A man wearing a crooked pointy hat walked out of the tree next to her. One of his hands rested atop an old oaken staff while the other stroked his beard. ¡°I was just about to go through a few of her recordings myself.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sure! It¡¯s been a whole five turns since I last saw her and I haven¡¯t really had a chance to check anything since Mom¡¯s been hogging the terminal. She¡¯s really paranoid that Dad¡¯s gonna cheat on her the moment she takes an eye off him so she freaks out whenever I try using it.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± The wizard pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°I¡¯ll have to get you one of those later. I nearly forgot about Dixie¡¯s¡­ tendencies.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Mom¡¯s a bit weird. She¡¯s really nice most of the time, but she always gets really on edge if Dad doesn¡¯t show up for more than a cycle.¡±


    ¡°I just hope that doesn¡¯t also run in the family,¡± said the celestial.


    ¡°Hey! What¡¯s that supposed to mean? There¡¯s no way I could be anywhere near as crazy as Mom!¡±


    ¡°She was relatively normal before she suddenly got attached to a torch.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not even really that attached!¡±


    ¡°You clearly are,¡± argued the old mage. ¡°You¡¯re not even sure if you should be manipulating her anymore.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush! You¡¯re only saying that because you know I¡¯m still not over it yet.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I am.¡±


    Alfred smiled as he tapped his cane against the forest¡¯s floor and shifted the pair to his quarters. There was no transition, no smoothening or filter. One moment, they were surrounded by trees and grass, and in the next, they were situated in front of a warm, cozy fireplace with books and shelves on all sides. But that wasn¡¯t all that had happened. The demigod¡¯s magic went beyond mere transportation.


    Both parties were placed atop chairs formed just prior to their arrival. If not for the mana that leaked from the perfectly imperfect spells, the seats would have been invisible. They were constructed entirely of conflicting vectors numbering in the hundreds of thousands. The display was certainly an impressive one, but even though she understood just how awe-inspiring it was meant to be, the Llystletein woodfox thought nothing of it. She was desensitized to the celestial¡¯s antics; it had been over a decade since she last took notice of his mastery.


    A wand that appeared out of thin air waved itself and created a large display for the pair to observe. It sat right in front of the fireplace and took up nearly the whole wall, hiding the crackling flames behind its dark crystalline base.


    The old man teleported a pipe into his hand as he settled into his seat. ¡°Whatever the case, I wouldn¡¯t be too stressed about it. There are a few things I¡¯m not quite over yet myself.¡± He took a long slow drag, puffing out a cloud in the shape of a lanky man before resuming. ¡°Like that time the goddess of order panicked and threw a fit? Can you believe she banned catgirls from entering the library? How am I supposed to get to them if I¡¯m stuck in here and they¡¯re stuck out there!? All this because she didn¡¯t want me to become the next god of life! I don¡¯t understand!¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t that whole sequence of events only happen because you were being really creepy?¡±


    ¡°Does it really matter?¡± said Alfred with a grumble. ¡°I¡¯m the only celestial that¡¯s figured out the trick to creating real life. None of the gods have got it under their belts either. They can do cheap imitations at best,¡± he said, leaning back into his chair. ¡°The last creator god has been dead for thousands of years. Why not let me take over?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re a pervert, duh!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I don¡¯t think it matters how good you are if you¡¯re a total weirdo.¡±


    ¡°Weirdo is a tad bit of a stretch, isn¡¯t it? I¡¯m not that bad.¡±


    ¡°Gosh, Al, you¡¯re such a liar. Are you forgetting that you made it so that the mirewulves don¡¯t grow up if we don¡¯t pee on them? If that¡¯s not being a weirdo, I don¡¯t know what is!¡±


    ¡°That is a misunderstanding,¡± he said, his voice almost perfectly steady. Almost. ¡°That is only because stricter conditions allow for a drastic increase in power from the same budget. And besides, Llystletein fox urine is highly nutritious and rich in magical residue. It¡¯s the perfect fertilizer.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but you could¡¯ve chosen anything else! You could¡¯ve just made it so they¡¯d get really big and strong if they were watered at really specific times and stuff! But you had to go and make it about pee. You don¡¯t have to hide it, Al, we all know you¡¯re a pervert.¡±


    ¡°Ok, fine. Maybe I do happen to have a few peculiar interests, but I still wouldn¡¯t say I¡¯m much of a ¡®weirdo.¡¯ I certainly don¡¯t mind being described as a pervert, but I prefer to think of myself as a gentleman with a healthy interest in the opposite sex, a connoisseur of sorts.¡±


    ¡°If you say so, Al, if you say so,¡± said Sylvia, as she flopped onto her belly. ¡°So what are we gonna watch? Is it something exciting?¡±


    ¡°Well, we can either watch her climb the mountain, or we can watch her fight. Take your pick.¡±


    ¡°Mountain climbing sounds really boring, almost as boring as the time you made me watch her wander around the marsh. I still can¡¯t believe you made me sit through all that! What the heck was even the point?¡±


    ¡°I thought it was rather entertaining. Can you believe she thought the candle was guiding her? She didn¡¯t even notice when I shifted her around. Quite comical, really.¡±


    The dark crystal screen that was the display flickered to life as the degenerate waved his wand. On it was the halfbreed, face to face with one of the cyclops that the celestial called watchers. It wasn¡¯t the most creative name, but neither was it entirely offensive. Only slightly, as all things should be.


    ¡°Mmmmnnn¡­ Claire¡¯s a bit weird. It¡¯s kinda hard to get a read on her because she acts funny. The other day, she was talking in her sleep and repeating a bunch of things in some really weird language. I had no idea what she was saying, but it was hardly ever any different. She must¡¯ve said that one phrase like a thousand times in one night!¡±


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    The fox¡¯s tail flicked from side to side as she recalled the memory. The movement was rhythmic but uneven, starting slowly on each side and suddenly accelerating after a brief delay.


    ¡°Ahhh¡­ yes, that. I remember seeing something similar. Even noted a few strange happenings before the bug in her log was destroyed.¡± Alfred raised a hand to his chin and stroked his beard. ¡°One way or another, she managed to gain a new skill in her sleep. Quite abnormal, quite abnormal indeed.¡±


    ¡°Wait, it was destroyed?¡± Sylvia¡¯s tail and ears shot up, standing vertically as she turned from the screen and blinked at the ancient human. ¡°Uhhmmm¡­ Doesn¡¯t that mean¡­ uhmmm¡­ divine intervention? Are you sure you should let her be a torch? That¡¯s starting to sound like a really bad idea.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. You weren¡¯t planning on seeing the process through either way.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ I might, but I¡¯m not sure. And now I¡¯m really not sure.¡± The fox¡¯s ears drooped. ¡°I do kinda want to see the outside world just to know what it¡¯s like, but I¡¯m not like Grant. I¡¯m pretty happy here in Llystletein already, and I kinda think it¡¯d be okay if nothing ever changed.¡±


    ¡°Because you like chasing the monarchs around?¡±


    The furball averted her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    The question prompted a sigh and a long drag from the man¡¯s pipe. ¡°Sometimes, I regret making you foxes.¡± He pressed his brow into his hands, frowning as he slowly shook his head from side to side. ¡°I knew I should¡¯ve tested the prototype catgirl circuitry on something else. For ¡®helpers,¡¯ your mental facilities are¡­ not exactly ideal.¡±


    ¡°What happened to catgirls being perfect?¡±


    ¡°They are. Their feline impulses are a part of their charm, but this and that are different.¡±


    ¡°No they aren''t!¡±


    ¡°Enough about that, child.¡± The wizard pointed to the crystalline screen. ¡°The fight¡¯s starting.¡±


    ¡°Wait, she¡¯s fighting one of the watchers? Wow! That one looks like a strong natural variant too. Is he from the herd?¡±


    ¡°Yes, he¡¯s one of their hunters. Quite the impressive fellow, really. Though I can¡¯t say I was expecting them to fight.¡±


    Alfred pulled his pipe from his lips and emptied it against the arm of his chair. The burnt leaves were carried off to a garbage bin by a gust of wind, another perfectly constructed set of vectors. ¡°She was supposed to befriend him and have him help her plan out her attack. Very interesting, how this has gone. With her behaviour the way it is, I¡¯m surprised she didn¡¯t attack you on sight.¡±


    ¡°I bet it¡¯s because I¡¯m cute. Look at how fluffy and adorable my tail is!¡±


    ¡°Cute? No, no, that isn¡¯t right. You don¡¯t meow enough to be cute,¡± said Alfred. ¡°That reminds me, I almost can¡¯t believe you¡¯ve managed to trick her into thinking you¡¯re just another one of the forest¡¯s critters. You¡¯re a terrible liar. What happened to everything I taught you? I could¡¯ve sworn I gave you a three-day-long lecture on the art of deception just the other week.¡±


    ¡°I dunno! I tried, but somehow, it just doesn¡¯t really work. I don¡¯t know why,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But it¡¯s not about how I do it, right? Just that I do?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but I don¡¯t understand. You¡¯ve clearly been outed for several lies already. It¡¯s a wonder that she still trusts you.¡±


    ¡°I think she just doesn¡¯t really care,¡± said Sylvia with her eyes on the screen. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure why thou¡ªoh wow! That spitting thing she just did was really neat.¡±


    ¡°It was, yes. Likely some sort of racial trait,¡± agreed the celestial. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t explain the magic...¡±


    ¡°Hmmm?¡±


    ¡°How is she adapting so well to force magic? It¡¯s supposed to be useless if you don¡¯t spend a few too many hours using it to engage in autoeroticism. Picking it was meant to be a poor choice, but for her, it seems to be paying off, one way or another.¡±


    ¡°Well um¡­ I¡¯m not really sure about the whole autoeroticism thing, but I think it might be because she¡¯s got good intuition. It¡¯s kinda like when she fought the hellhog. Remember that? That was really dumb, and I thought she was dead for sure but she pulled it off because she just kinda knew how she was supposed to kill it!¡±


    ¡°That was quite the surprise, yes. I was convinced that the watcher would kill her as well, but it seems she¡¯s proving herself rather resilient.¡±


    The battle taking place on the screen was already over. One of its two participants lay in a pool of blood, while the other was basking in the glory and relief of a level up.


    ¡°Wait, what is she doing, sawing off its leg like that?¡± Alfred crossed his arms and leaned forward, his brow furrowed and wrinkly as his hat. ¡°I wonder if she¡¯s going to shove it up its arse and get some of that good old revenge.¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ I¡¯m not really sure about that, exactly...¡± muttered Sylvia. ¡°Oh wait! I bet it¡¯s because she¡¯s half lamia, and they don¡¯t do too well in the cold. She¡¯s probably gonna use it to make something and warm up.¡± The fox made a sewing motion with her paw.


    ¡°Ahhh, yes, right. Half gorgonian lamia, half bloodwinged cer¡ª¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait wait! Stop! You¡¯re gonna spoil it!¡± Sylvia shouted as she pounced across the room and pressed her paws against the human¡¯s lips. ¡°I was having so much fun trying to get her race out of her! You can¡¯t just tell me all of a sudden! What the heck, Al! That was awful and you know it!¡±


    ¡°Right, I forgot that she never told you,¡± he chuckled sheepishly as he grabbed her by the scruff and set her down on an armrest. ¡°My apologies.¡±


    ¡°You owe me a snack later, some nice fish or something,¡± said the fox. ¡°She was being really secretive about it for some weird reason. I¡¯m not really sure why she didn¡¯t want to tell me. Wait, are you sure it starts with a ¡®cer?¡¯ Her ears make her look an awful lot like a rabbit. She kept telling me she wasn¡¯t one, but she might¡¯ve just been lying. I don¡¯t think a rabbit and a lamia could have kids though. That doesn¡¯t really seem possible.¡±


    ¡°A question about interbreeding? I can say with confidence that you¡¯ve come to the right person.¡± Alfred smirked before inhaling another lungful of smoke. ¡°As the prospective god of life, I can assure you that while it is unlikely, it¡¯s not outright impossible. You see, lamian genetali¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Al! I don¡¯t want to know!¡± Sylvia once again used her forelimbs to silence the celestial. ¡°You¡¯ve already taught me way too many weird things! I still remember that weird, super in-depth lecture about foxes and elves! I really, really, really don¡¯t want to know!¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ your loss, I suppose.¡± Alfred shrugged. ¡°It would¡¯ve been a rather entertaining explanation.¡±


    ¡°No thank you!¡±


    A wide boyish grin appeared on Alfred¡¯s face. It was entirely unsuited to a man with thousands of years under his belt, but somehow seemed natural nonetheless. ¡°Oh, I think I should mention, Sylvia, the spoiler was entirely intentional.¡±


    ¡°Ughhhh¡­ I really hate you sometimes, Al! You¡¯re so mean. This is why you¡¯re still single.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m only single because Flitzy refuses to acknowledge beauty in perversion,¡± grumbled the celestial. ¡°Damned snob and her rules. I don¡¯t see why she doesn¡¯t think I¡¯d make a good god.¡±


    ¡°Maybe a good god of perversion¡­¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind that at all,¡± said the celestial. ¡°It would be perfect, in fact. I could force fetishes onto people without any prior warning.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you already do that?¡± The fox raised a brow. ¡°Because I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯ve been forcing all the torches to like catgirls and stuff, and then there were all those pranks you played on Grant, like that time you made it so he couldn¡¯t eat berries anymore.¡±


    ¡°Well, yes, but it¡¯s not quite the same. With another ascension, I would gain the power to give out fetishes the way other gods give out blessings. I could give them to everyone and anyone without recourse.¡± Alfred rubbed his hands together as a dark smile came across his face. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be fun to give all the worst fetishes to the people you hate?¡±


    ¡°Al¡­ I just want you to know, I¡¯m judging you right now. You¡¯re being really weird.¡±


    ¡°Listen, Sylvia. Just listen.¡±


    ¡°...Fine.¡±


    ¡°Imagine Grant.¡±


    ¡°Mhm?¡±


    ¡°You know how he hates children? Imagine if¡­¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t finish that thought, Al.¡±


    ¡°Too late, my dear child. Far too late!¡±


    Alfred fought back a fit of laughter, slamming his hand into his chair over and over. Soon joining the racket was the creaking of a door. An older fox with a winter coat entered the room, a basket of grilled greens in tow.


    ¡°Oh, speak of the devil,¡± said Alfred, between chortles.


    Grant looked at him for a moment before setting down the basket and slowly shaking his head. ¡°You better not have been thinking of screwing with my fetishes again.¡±


    ¡°What the heck! How did you know?¡± asked Sylvia, wide-eyed.


    ¡°Alfred! How many times does this make it¡­ You even started the damned replay without me, you old coot!¡±


    The older fox picked up a nearby book and hurled it at the head librarian. It whizzed through the air, nearly breaking the sound barrier, but of course, it failed to reach the celestial, stopping in place just before it did.


    ¡°Sylvia, please!¡± said Alfred, with a groan. ¡°I know you¡¯re a terrible liar, but you really didn¡¯t have to out me like that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not like it¡¯d make a difference! He already knew!¡±


    ¡°I did have a feeling, yes,¡± agreed Grant.


    With two judging glares staring him down, the old celestial found himself awkwardly clearing his throat and turning his eyes to the screen. ¡°Right, so anyway, she doesn¡¯t really do anything for a while. Let¡¯s skip ahead. If the dungeon¡¯s logs are to be believed, something interesting should be happening not too long after she awakens.¡±

 Chapter 55 - The Corruptor’s Realm IX

    Chapter 55 - The Corruptor¡¯s Realm IX


    ¡°Why is it so empty here?¡±


    Claire gave voice to a whisper as she wandered her way around the lavacombs. The sewage system¡¯s lack of life had her thoroughly confused. Even back home, where there was technology aplenty, the underground waterways were flooded, not just with waste, but also with monsters. Their unsanitary conditions provided the perfect nesting grounds for parauses, slimes, gorches, and other incarnations of filth.


    By contrast, Borrok Peak¡¯s sewers were empty, devoid of both excrement and the life it attracted. Anything that was discarded was incinerated the moment it reached the pipe¡¯s bottom. The environment served as the perfect disposal system, so long as the people inhabiting it didn¡¯t mind the constant threat of a society-ending eruption. The pipes, the vessels used to transport the borroks¡¯ waste, could just as easily serve to carry magma up into the city.


    Staring at the plumbing, the halfbreed wandered around until she stumbled across a landmark. She realised, as she neared the lava chamber¡¯s center, that not all the tubes were open. The ones directly above the largest pit were shut off, sealed with a thick layer of ice.


    Their ladders were still present, but not fully intact. Some looked partially melted, while others seemed to have been broken through the application of brute force. Whatever the case, the ladders that remained ran no more than halfway down the chamber.


    ¡°Who dares intrude upon my domain?¡±


    A deep booming voice called out to her as she approached the edge, accompanied soon after by the swelling of magma. Molten rock was raised and pushed aside as a creature with a frame at least fifty meters long and twenty across rose from within the pit. Flames were littered across its face, covering its visage with a multilayered hexagonal pattern akin to a spider¡¯s web. Its ovular head was decorated with a large mouth that spanned its entire length, a gaping maw that could easily swallow a building in one bite.


    Right beneath its face were a pair of wide paddles attached to a body that appeared to thin out into what was likely a pair of flippers, hidden beneath the surface. Two large eyes sat on each side of its head, tiny when compared to its frame, but large enough for her to think her weapons ineffective; the diameter of each oculus was at least three times the length of her mace. The creature was a cetacean. A titanic whale made from crystalized volcanic discharge. And it wasn¡¯t alone. It was followed by a dozen dolphins, each of which had taken to the air after rising from the lava.


    Each entity came alongside a small box that said ¡°-4% Catgirl¡± but otherwise provided no context whatsoever. A brand new log entry was paired with the curious pop-up, but Claire ignored it. She was too preoccupied with running away. A blink and a half was all it had taken for the rogue to spin around and start scampering away. There was no way for her to deal with the whale. Giant slaying was far beyond the realm of her expertise, and she clearly recalled that even the borrok warrior had only done minimal damage to the whale¡¯s miniature counterparts. With only lackluster tools at her disposal, killing the lava-immune leviathan was outright impossible.


    But try as she might, she was unable to flee. A wall of magma stopped her in her tracks. The lava within the honeycombs had risen and gathered to form a bastion that spanned the length of the subterranean space. Its height was equally as impressive. The wall nearly reached the ceiling, leaving only the tiniest of gaps between the roof and its apex.


    Great. More magic.


    ¡°Don¡¯t run, little one. Face me and explain yourself.¡±


    Taking a deep breath, Claire set her expression to neutral as she slowly turned around. ¡°I¡¯m just passing through.¡±


    ¡°You know this is sacred ground, borrok. I will execute you unless you are here to provide a means for me to reacquire the staff.¡±


    The whale crafted several spears of flame, each thick enough to split the halfbreed in two. They were suspended in the air behind it, unmoving but poised to strike, like a set of arrows nocked into a giant, invisible bow.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a borrok,¡± said Claire. Sacred ground? Isn¡¯t this a sewer?


    ¡°You¡¯re not?¡± The whale turned its head on the side and focused a pair of eyes on her. It had to squint for a good few moments before finally shifting back to its previous position. ¡°How strange. Your frame reminds me of their ascendants and you reek of their blood.¡±


    Giant golems can smell?


    ¡°Name yourself, little one,¡± continued the leviathan. The clear displeasure in its voice had been replaced with curiosity and suspicion. ¡°Who are you? And why are you here?¡±


    ¡°I am Claire Aug¡ª¡± The halfbreed caught herself mid word, let go of her skirt, and returned her arms to her sides. ¡°I¡¯m Claire. Just Claire,¡± she said. ¡°And I¡¯m here to kill some borroks.¡±


    The whale raised a brow and looked at her again before breaking into a series of booming cackles.


    ¡°You? Kill borroks?¡± The cave shook as it laughed. Tiny pieces of dirt and stone fell from the ceiling as a number of nearby ladders snapped and fell into the pits below. ¡°Ridiculous!¡±


    The gargoyle¡¯s flaming spears faded as it huffed and wheezed. Its tail emerged from beneath the lava¡¯s surface as it shook uncontrollably, smashing a number of nearby pathways in the process. Flopping up and down, the rear flipper created a series of massive waves, blasts of flaming stone that decimated the pipes and ladders behind it. Even the dolphins were busting their guts; the subterranean space was filled with their high-pitched demonic screeches.


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen far more powerful assassins try and fail.¡± The cete raised a fin to its face and wiped away its molten tears. ¡°You stand no chance against the borroks. You¡¯ll be swarmed and eaten in a matter of minutes. Give up and go home, little one.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see about that. Tell me where the sentinel an¡ª¡±


    ¡°The sentinel? The sentinel!? You want to kill the sentinel?¡± The whale cut her off by breaking into another unrestrained fit of laughter. ¡°Now that is a sight I would like to see.¡± He drummed the front of his belly with his flippers as he continued to chortle.


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    Claire¡¯s expression remained neutral, but the halfbreed was miffed. Her lips were on the verge of twitching and her hands were itching to ball themselves into fists. She even had to tie a knot with her tongue just to stop herself from mouthing off. She wasn¡¯t able to calm herself until she recalled that being underestimated was to her advantage. Taking a quick breath, she crossed her arms, looked up at the magmatic cetacean and spoke in a perfectly controlled tone of voice.


    ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°I am the lord of the mountain, the spirit that governs this land,¡± said the whale. ¡°And this is my abode.¡±


    ¡°You live under their toilets?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I do.¡±


    Accompanying the low growl was a rumble. The earth shook and the already glowing creature turned an even brighter shade of red as the lava levels rose; the five-odd meters between the path and the volcanic river shrank to two.


    ¡°If you¡¯re mad, then show me where the important ones are. I¡¯ll kill them, and you won¡¯t have to live in a cesspit anymore,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°You really think you have a chance?¡± The molten rocks receded as the whale started to laugh again. ¡°Not even I can kill the ascended borroks lest they step foot in my domain, and I have been trying for years,¡± he said, between half-stifled giggles, ¡°a tiny, flimsy thing like you is not going to get anything done.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t lose anything if I die,¡± said Claire. ¡°The sooner you tell me where to go and how to get there safely, the sooner I get out of your face.¡±


    ¡°Very true.¡± The spirit¡¯s chuckling slowed, grinding to a halt after one final fit. ¡°Fine, I will have one of the lesser spirits show you to the ascended borroks. If you happen to live long enough to find the Staff of True Ice, and you somehow orchestrate a miraculous escape, return it to me and I will reward you handsomely.¡±


    In your dreams, jerk. If I find your stupid staff, I¡¯m snapping it in half.


    Smirking internally, the halfbreed looked towards the obsidian dolphin flying her way and greeted it with a light nod.


    ¡°This is Herk,¡± said the mountain. ¡°He will show you the way.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll start with the corruptor,¡± said Herk. His voice was oddly high pitched, but not in a feminine sort of way. ¡°It¡¯s the easiest ascendant to find.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need to kill the corruptor.¡±


    ¡°You will, if you want to stand a chance against the sentinel.¡±


    There was a moment of silence as the halfbreed narrowed her eyes and shifted her glare towards the lesser spirit¡¯s master. ¡°Fine.¡±


    I bet the corruptor has the staff they¡¯re looking for.


    She wasn¡¯t happy to be made a pawn, but more experience was more experience, and an ascended borrok was sure to provide plenty.


    ___


    Claire shivered as the cold mountain air rushed by. The cetacean assigned to her had taken her outside through a small opening in the magmatic cesspit¡¯s wall. Navigating the mountain¡¯s steep exterior was impossible on foot, but surprisingly easy on dolphinback.


    The magma swimmer was completely unbound by gravity. It could move in any direction it wanted and would float in place if it remained completely still, even while supporting her weight. Contrary to what was suggested by the creature¡¯s visible fiery core, it wasn¡¯t hot or even warm to the touch. The halfbreed was very much dismayed to find that it was just as cold as the icy environment around it.


    I never should¡¯ve given that stupid goddess my cloak.


    Without her watcher-based overcoat, she was left with only a few thin layers of insulation, none of which helped with the sub-zero winds. The stark contrast from the lava-filled hellhole only served to worsen the winter¡¯s bite. There had been no temperature gradient, nor any sort of warning. It had gone from burning hot to freezing cold in the blink of an eye, the shock of which had left the rogue sniffling and sneezing.


    Even with gravity as a nonfactor, the trip remained equal parts lengthy and tiresome. The dolphin¡¯s top speed was negligible, clocking in at a mere fraction of her own. Had they been on level ground, she would have been able to pass it with just a light jog. But alas, they were not. Despite its lackluster tempo, the mammalian rock-fish remained the fastest mode of transport; it was the reason the giant sparrows were kept at bay. The watcher-sized birds only steered clear of the pair because the air-swimmer would fire warning shots, balls of flame, whenever they tried to approach.


    Claire had tried to mimic her newly acquired mount, but her spells were much less effective. The passerines were too heavy. Apply Force could only slow them down at best, even with her wisdom stat nearing its third threshold.


    All in all, it took about an insufferable hour to reach the caldera¡¯s outer edge. The volcano¡¯s peak wasn¡¯t as warm as the city that lay within it, but neither was it as cold as the mountainside below. The occasional stream of lava kept it at a reasonable enough temperature to thaw the force mage¡¯s frostbitten fingers.


    ¡°We¡¯re close,¡± said Herk.


    The dolphin seemed to be expecting a reply, based on the way that he kept glancing back at his rider, but she ignored him. She was too busy staring at the scene laid out beneath her. It was one of the targets she had identified during her survey of the city, the isolated manor she had spotted from afar. Slowly, they descended upon it. The dolphin dimmed the light of his core as he moved to a particularly black patch of rock and inched down its side at a snail¡¯s pace. Left with little else to do, Claire took the opportunity to observe the manor in detail.


    The building stood out thanks to its hilltop position and its obvious high security. Both elements served to emphasize that the mansion was no ordinary building, but neither conveyed the message as well as its distinctive make. Unlike everything else in Borrok Peak, the manor was only covered in ice, not made of it. It was built instead of all the usual things seen in a fancy home. Wood, clay, glass, and lime made up the vast majority of its construction, with the only exception its foundation, which was laid with large stone bricks. It almost looked like a relic from another time, a building that no borrok could have possibly built.


    Though the architectural style differed greatly from the standard Cadrian model, the mansion reminded Claire of her family¡¯s seaside villa. It was roughly the same size, two stories tall with what looked to be about a dozen spacious rooms on each, assuming the window placement was to be trusted.


    ¡°It looks¡­ dwarven,¡± muttered the rogue.


    The doors were tiny, likely meant for people that averaged in at somewhere between three and five feet. Combining that with its flat roof, its stout, squarish construction, and its mountainside location provided the impression that it was made by and for Dorr¡¯s favoured.


    ¡°We don¡¯t know what it was,¡± said the dolphin.


    Again, he glanced at her, expecting her to continue the conversation, but again he was ignored. It wasn¡¯t as if Claire didn¡¯t hear him. She just didn¡¯t feel like talking. Speaking to the dolphin seemed like little beyond a waste of time.


    Kicking off the mini-whale¡¯s back, the halfbreed leapt onto a nearby rock and shook her cloak free of any remaining snow. She was at least fifty meters above the manor, but her weapons, the only two blades she had left, were already drawn.


    ¡°Stay here. It won¡¯t take long.¡±


    She didn¡¯t want him following her. His glow, however dim, stood out as a distinct source of light, an obvious marker that made him an easy target.


    ¡°For you to die,¡± laughed Herk, with his creepy, high pitched voice.


    I¡¯m going to strangle this stupid thing.


    Narrowing her eyes, the halfbreed turned around, spun one of her knives into a reverse grip, and approached the manor under cover of night.

 Chapter 56 - The Corruptor’s Realm X

    Chapter 56 - The Corruptor¡¯s Realm X


    There were around thirty corrupted watchers patrolling around the manor and its exterior, none of which had caught wind of the halfbreed wandering its halls. Sneaking in had been easy despite the near excessive guard count. Though they were walking around and actively searching for intruders, the one-eyed watchmen were far from orderly or competent. Their routes were uncoordinated and their paths often crossed in a way that created blindspots aplenty. They also didn¡¯t seem to be keeping count of each other, as not a single one of them had noticed that nearly half their number was missing.


    A well-prepared assassin would have been able to take advantage of the lackluster security and get in and out in the blink of an eye, but ready for the task Claire was not. The half-lamia had no idea where she was supposed to find the corruptor. Tracking wasn¡¯t activating because she had nothing to follow. She had never seen the borrok, nor picked up its trail. Her tongue produced an equally disappointing set of results. Flicking it through the air produced little beyond the scent of blood.


    Reliable as they usually were, her ears were left thoroughly confused by the mansion¡¯s soundscape. They picked up on a distant voice accompanied by the crackling of flame, but she found it exceedingly difficult to pinpoint either sound¡¯s source. It almost seemed like they were echoing, coming from several different places at once. It took straining them for several straight minutes for her to conclude that they were coming from underground, but she had no idea how she was supposed to get into the building¡¯s cellar. The only flight of stairs she found led up to the second floor.


    Searching the ground level had yielded a grand total of ten wasted minutes. Everything from the floor to the fittings to the chandeliers was completely frozen, encased in the same frigid layer that covered the rest of the building. She doubted that the second floor would be any different, but the rogue chose to ascend the steps nonetheless. There was only time to lose and quite frankly, she wanted to examine the rest of the ancient residence. It was her first time seeing a building whose furniture was made almost entirely of stone. Cadria and its immediate neighbours preferred carpentry to masonry. Wood was easier to work with and always readily available.


    The only obstacle in the way of her exploration was a one-eyed freak standing near the top of the steps, but a quick stab to the throat, followed by a dozen more to the face, rendered it moot. Leaving the corpse where it had perished was a surefire way to be discovered, so she quickly cleaned it up by ordering the vacuum on her shoulder to consume it. As it had all the others.


    An unpleasant series of sensations filled the force mage¡¯s mouth as her guardian spirit removed the kill, its blood the only bit of evidence left behind. The combination of the acrid flavour of its flesh and the stringy texture of its hairy body almost made her retch, but she was able to suppress the urge by gritting her teeth and clenching her fists. She hated it. She hated the taste and the mouthfeel. And most of all, she hated the way the horse was celebrating its meals. Every time it was fed, it would squeal and do tippy taps, as would an excited piglet.


    Seven doorways and two dead watchers later, Claire finally found a smoking hearth with its inglenook removed¡ªsomething that wasn¡¯t frozen in time. The fireplace was inside an ancient study. Empty bookshelves lined the walls, in front of which was a half rotten desk, three broken chairs, and a metallic candelabra whose lit candles were covered in ice. It was a bit of a confusing contradiction, but the halfbreed didn¡¯t dwell on it for long. She focused instead on the dark billowing clouds that clearly stemmed from a source beneath the otherwise empty stone basin. Claire recalled that she was apparently resistant to fire, but even so, remained unwilling to dive headfirst into a pit of flame. She opted instead for a much simpler and more elegant solution: removing the problem.


    Sticking her finger through the burning hot smoke, Claire doused the source of all the heat in a stream of stale water. It soon sizzled out, leaving her with the perfect opportunity to poke her head over the edge and examine the shaft that lay below.


    After taking a moment to listen for any possible threats, she slid into the narrow passageway and dropped down onto the freshly watered coals. A gasp was caught in her throat as the brick gave way to a large room containing a series of familiar creatures. She drew her weapons, nearly lunging at the nearest one before realising that it was lifeless and unmoving. Just like all the others.


    Before her eyes lay a curious scene painted by a hundred corpses and an equal number of boxes. Monsters of all shapes and sizes were arranged throughout the room, ordered loosely by their species. Each beast had clearly been repositioned and posed prior to being frozen. Some had been made to stand idle, while others were standing as they would whilst engaged in combat. One of the watchers was even holding a blade, poised as if to strike at the feathered frogpole beside it.


    Claire didn¡¯t recognize all the creatures present within the mausoleum, but most were species she had seen within the city. Wolves, bats, bears, and watchers were all present in droves. Only the borroks themselves were missing and unaccounted for.


    What is this place?


    Lowering her daggers, the mage took a deep breath as she walked down an aisle of frozen cadavers. She realised, as she moved through the room, that the specimens nearest the flame were the only individuals that were fully flushed with insectoid features. The further away from the firepit she got, the less corrupted the creatures were. The ones at the back, near the only open doorway, were entirely untouched. They were just like they were in life; their bodies were missing random chitin-covered limbs and their jaws were entirely devoid of extraneous external mandibles.


    Moving closer to the doorway enhanced the sound that had attracted her to the basement to begin with. The quiet murmuring was almost intelligible, distorted only because the same voice was giving life to a thousand high-pitched whispers at once. It came from a room at the other end of the hallway, another room that was illuminated by flame.


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    Sneaking down the hall, Claire checked all the other various chambers and confirmed that they were empty before sticking her head through the final doorway. Inside it was a lone figure with a dark green robe over its shoulders and an odd-looking bladestaff in hand. The weapon¡¯s poorly constructed meter-long shaft looked to be made of cooled molten rock. She was fairly certain that it had been carved out of the crater¡¯s walls by an individual with a severe lack of dexterity. Its entire handlebar was covered in jagged rough extrusions; there wasn¡¯t a smooth surface in sight. The forearm-length chunk of ice that adorned its tip started out with a thick, wide bottom that ended in a sharp point. If not for the aura of frost radiating off of it, the icy edge would have more closely resembled the head of a wide bladed spear than any sort of magical catalyst.


    The staff¡¯s bearer was equally as curious. Like every other borrok, he could vaguely be defined as a mix between a monkey and a beetle. In his case, the former heritage was much stronger than the latter. If one was to ignore the insect-like wings sticking out of his cloak and the bits of shell that covered his limbs, then he likely could have passed as a sort of evolved simian. The only odd factors out were his ears, his massive, fluffy, triangular ears. They vaguely resembled those of a cat, given the tufts of fur that bordered their edges, but their shape wasn¡¯t quite right. Like Claire¡¯s, they were much longer than they were wide. As if to protest the observation, Claire¡¯s newest catgirl skill created a window that confirmed the ascendant as ¡°-37% Catgirl,¡± whatever that meant.


    Though the borrok¡¯s bizarre appearance was eye-catching, it didn¡¯t hold Claire¡¯s attention for long. Following the tip of his staff, she found her eyes on a line of frozen pillars, each of which was being used to restrain a different creature. On the end closest to the borrok was a pure white bear that stood at roughly four meters tall, its head just barely shy of the cellar¡¯s ceiling. The monster was clearly in distress. It was flailing its arms about as it roared and howled, but try as it might, it was unable to break loose of the ring that held its legs and waist in place.


    A magic circle appeared directly above the bear as the borrok finished his chant. The dark purple spell was eye-catching, a complex twelve-sided plane with over a hundred runes inscribed in its perimeter. Ignoring the ursine¡¯s cries of panic, the borrok slowly lowered its staff and moved the circle downwards. The moment the magic touched the poor monster¡¯s flesh was the moment it suffered an epileptic attack, an especially violent seizure that didn¡¯t end until half a minute after the spell finished passing it through. At the end of it all, the bear was left with its body slumped forward and its mouth foaming. She could tell that it was still conscious, based on the way it was whimpering, but only barely. Its eyes were too distant for something that could use its mind to the fullest.


    ¡°Who¡¯s next?¡±


    The strident nasally voice that came from the barbaric caster was more out of place than it was intimidating, but that didn¡¯t stop it from terrifying nearly every one of its prisoners. The sole individual not to flinch was the dolphin that was next in line. It had its head held high and its core burning as brightly as the wooden furnace situated against the opposite wall.


    ¡°Release me, coward!¡± squeaked the cete. ¡°Release me and return the staff, or you will feel our wrath!¡±


    For a moment, Claire had started to think that Herk had somehow gone ahead and gotten himself caught, but the lavaswimmer¡¯s deeper, slightly-less-obnoxious voice had thrown that theory down the gutter. Paying closer attention to the dolphin revealed that, while it mostly looked the same, there were a few slight differences in the shape of its shell. Its nose was thinner and sharper, and its tailfin was slightly shorter.


    ¡°Wrath? What wrath?¡± The nasally monkey laughed, snorted even. ¡°He can¡¯t do anything without his shard.¡±


    ¡°Push him any further and he¡¯ll erupt and kill you all!¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s see him try.¡±


    Twisting his wrist, the corruptor pointed the icy staff towards the gargoyle and initiated another long chant. Again, his words, his unintelligible multilayered whispers, echoed through the chamber. The windup lasted for about thirty seconds, after which he formed his mana into another ominous dark purple polygon.


    Like the bear, the dolphin screamed and convulsed as it was exposed to the magic. Its body lurched, twisted, and turned until it finally collapsed. But unlike the mammal, whose chest still heaved, the lavaswimmer fell perfectly still. The burning red light within its core faded as its body slowly crumbled to dust. A fate that could not be mistaken for anything but death.


    ¡°Before you ask, yes, that was necessary.¡±


    The borrok slowly lowered his staff as he turned to face her, revealing a set of features that irked her to no end. He had a large, wide nose with an obvious receding hairline shaped like a V. His face was covered in darkened spots, and his eyes were pitch black with not even the faintest hint of an iris.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to,¡± said Claire. ¡°I would¡¯ve killed him if you didn¡¯t.¡±


    The borrok cocked a brow. ¡°Most intruders don¡¯t understand our ways, but you seem like someone more open to¡­ negotiation.¡± There was a sickening smile on his face, one that revealed a set of half rotten yellow teeth alongside a second, smaller set of insect-like jaws.


    ¡°Then you¡¯ve got the wrong impression.¡± The halfbreed drew her daggers. ¡°I¡¯m here for the staff. And I don¡¯t negotiate with barbarians.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re not on their side, are you?¡± He gestured towards the ash and dust. ¡°What would you do with it? Only spirits can channel its power.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to snap it in half right in the stupid whale¡¯s face,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t care about ¡®its power.¡¯¡±


    ¡°He wouldn¡¯t care. The shard at the end is the only part that matters. The rest can easily be reforged.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll just destroy that.¡±


    ¡°Not possible. It¡¯s true ice. It¡¯s indestructible.¡± The bug monkey chuckled. ¡°Now leave. I¡¯m busy.¡± He gestured towards the door with his chin before turning back around. ¡°I¡¯ve got a batch of creatures to corrupt and no time to deal with intruders. If you want someone to fight, then go attack the guards. You¡¯d stand more of a chance against them anyway.¡±


    ¡°I already have,¡± she said, as she coated her weapons with poison.


    ¡°I heard. You dropped some of our men into the lava and made an escape before the mages could finish you.¡±


    ¡°I meant this manor¡¯s guards. Half of them are dead.¡±


    She slowly began stepping forward.


    ¡°Only half? Go finish the rest. I¡¯ve got no time for you. I¡¯ve got an army to build, a skill to improve, and a celestial to kill. This is my final warning, and the only courtesy you¡¯ll get.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±


    I bet he¡¯d kill me if I turned my back to him.


    The corruptor sighed and craned his neck back to look at her. ¡°You¡¯re in over your head.¡± His eyes were glowing a deep shade of purple. ¡°We already know you can¡¯t handle mages, and I¡¯m the best mage in town.¡±


    "Not for long.¡±


    Ignoring the warning, the halfbreed raised both her blades and lunged.

 Chapter 57 - The Corruptor’s Realm XI

    Chapter 57 - The Corruptor¡¯s Realm XI


    Claire kicked off the ground and closed the ten-meter gap in the blink of an eye. She was caught off guard by the sheer force of her acceleration; the sudden lack of distance threw her off-balance and messed up her aim. It was only the second time she had dashed at her new top speed and she had yet to grow accustomed to the environment suddenly turning into a blur.


    The blind rush¡¯s target was equally as startled. He barely managed to react, opening his eyes wide before spinning around and wildly flailing his staff. As a deterrent, the haphazard attack was effective. It forced Claire to duck and slice at the borrok¡¯s legs instead of going for his vitals. Not that it would have mattered. Neither blade proved capable of piercing the monster¡¯s fur. His hairs were tough and slashing them felt no different than cleaving at a suit of armour. There was even a bit of a metallic clink, a clear indication of the halfbreed¡¯s failure.


    Looping around to the bug-monkey¡¯s rear, the rogue attacked it thrice before having to retreat out of its reach, but again, she failed to deal any notable damage. Both her slashes were repelled; only the stab that followed was able to nick its skin and draw a single drop of blood. It was a tiny, insignificant wound. A major success.


    The corruptor had attempted to retaliate with magecraft. Like Apply Force¡ªand just about every other combat-grade spell¡ªthe borrok¡¯s Icebolt was chantless and didn¡¯t require any concentration on the caster¡¯s part. Declaring it was all that was needed to actualize the magical effect. But actualization was hardly the final step. Aiming was. And aiming just so happened to be the sort of process an untimely sneeze could easily disrupt.


    ¡°Soarspore poison¡­¡± the borrok wrinkled his nose as he wiped the parachute-laden seeds off his face. The warriors had been immune to the toxin, but the corruptor lacked their insect-like heads. His mammalian respiratory system left him vulnerable and exposed.


    The half-lamia didn¡¯t confirm or deny his guess, her only response a quiet, satisfied smile. It didn¡¯t matter if he knew. Knowing would not save him from its effects.


    Switching her poisons to quicksilver and rocket fuel, she lunged again, but her foe didn¡¯t fall for the same trick twice. She was forced to roll out of the way as a massive icicle materialized an inch in front of her nose. It lacked momentum, but it would have skewered her either way had she not rolled to the side; her own speed had almost become the cause of her death.


    Diving to the ground had allowed her to avoid the immediate threat, but the ice mage was by no means green enough to set only a single trap. A second set of projectiles spawned beneath her right before she landed.


    Claire was able to save herself from being impaled by spinning her body horizontally, but she couldn¡¯t fully avoid the sharpened, wintery blades. Rolling over them, she found her hood torn off, her flesh pierced, and her torso lined with deep, bloody gashes.


    The force mage wasn¡¯t given any time or room to recover. Raising her head, she found that she was surrounded by a hail of icy blades. They were gathered around her in a loose spherical formation, with each spear firing as soon as it was fully formed. The lack of synchronization allowed her to dodge some and parry others, but even with her newfound speed, she was unable to stop every blade from finding its mark.


    One ended up in her thigh, another in her gut, and yet another in her bloody flank. Even worse than the cage-like set up was the rate of replacement. Every projectile that was expended had its place immediately taken by two others. If not for the horse on her shoulder, she would have met an inevitable demise.


    Activating the deformed pony¡¯s vacuum-like capabilities, she consumed the mage¡¯s spell and relocated before he could recast it. It wasn¡¯t a desperate measure, by any means, but it also wasn¡¯t one she could mindlessly abuse. With her spirit at its current value, destroying a spell not of her own making required her to expend nearly twice as much mana as its caster, and breaking free of the icicle prison had eaten nearly a fifth of her total.


    ¡°You es¡ªescaped?¡± said the borrok, with a sneeze. ¡°I was sh¡ªsure that would kill you.¡±


    Having gotten over the shock borne of her speed, his voice was calm and controlled. Save for when his nostrils flared.


    ¡°You were wrong.¡±


    Claire threw both her daggers and forced the man to either dodge or intercept as she drew her mace and charged. Moving out of the way, he tried to interrupt the rush as he had the one preceding it, but his efforts were to no avail. Having anticipated the attack, the halfbreed knew not to overreact. Craning her neck, she evaded the would-be fatal blow by the skin of her teeth and continued to close the distance.


    The wall of ice he set up between them also failed to deter her. She smashed right through it with a swing of her two-handed weapon before jumping at him and striking him on the head. It was a heavy impact, but the halfbreed¡¯s attack was nowhere near as effective as planned. His skull remained uncracked, even after a direct blow.


    Another sneeze provided her the opportunity to deliver a second, more powerful strike, but that too was impotent. All she managed to do was knock his head around. He didn¡¯t suffer any obvious external injuries and she was forced to retreat before she could launch a third attack.


    The borrokian mage drove her away by blasting a wave of spikes in all directions. She could have endured it, but she didn¡¯t want to trade blows, at least not when she felt that hers were unlikely to prove effective.


    ¡°You can¡¯t hurt me,¡± said the borrok.


    Hardly a minute had elapsed since the battle had begun, but the soarspore poison was beginning to lose its effect. The borrok¡¯s body was fighting it off, despite Envenom dictating that its toxins weren¡¯t meant to dissipate in combat. His sneezes had been reduced to tiny, insignificant sniffles. ¡°Give up now, and I still might let you go.¡±


    He had a smug smile on his face, a sign that he was practically bursting with confidence.


    And that was exactly why she got him. Clenching her toes, she pulled both her discarded daggers towards her feet. Straight into the back of his ankles. Unlike her weak physical attacks, her magic-fueled strikes were more than heavy enough to pierce through his defenses.


    The borrok groaned as his legs buckled and gave out beneath him. Claire was tempted to take the opportunity to mock the cat-eared monkey, but she wasn¡¯t stupid enough to waste the chance to follow up her attack. Dashing back up to him, she bashed his right arm with her mace, over and over until his fingers finally loosened. Once his grip was weakened, she cast her weapon aside and replaced it with his, magically pulling it right into her hands.


    Depriving a mage of his staff was nowhere near as crippling as robbing an archer of his bow. A magical implement was not a strict requirement, pure caster or not. It was just an add-on whose purpose was to facilitate and enhance. Stealing it would still serve to hamper its owner, but that was hardly why Claire had opted to disarm her foe. She was much more interested in the offensive prowess its sharpened tip offered.


    Wielding it exactly as she would a spear, Claire stabbed the bladestaff straight into the borrok¡¯s rib cage. It ran him all the way through; more than half the icy fang erupted from his back, accompanied by a spray of sickly yellow blood.


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    She tried twisting it and wrenching it out the side of his body, but he froze his own flesh to hold the pike in place. Claire placed a foot on his chest in an attempt to get a better grip, but a blast of cold air, filled with bits of shrapnel, forced her to let go of the weapon and retreat to safety.


    He grabbed the staff¡¯s stone shaft as she backed away, and in one swift motion wrenched it from his breast. The thick, goopy flow that spilled from the fresh chest wound stopped as soon as it started. He froze his upper half, effectively cauterizing the wound with a layer of frost. And he didn¡¯t stop there. Channeling his power through the true ice, he created a thick sheet of dark blue armour spanning the full length of his body. No part was left unguarded. Even his face was entirely obscured.


    ¡°I should have just done this from the start,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I held back.¡±


    He sounded tired and annoyed, but not hurt. He didn¡¯t stutter or wheeze, even though she was sure she had nearly destroyed one of his lungs.


    ¡°Because you¡¯re an idiot,¡± said Claire. And so am I.


    ¡°Maybe I am.¡± The monkey chuckled.


    She pulled her mace into her hands and reapplied its noxious coating as she stared him down. Unlike a traditional suit of armour, whose joints could easily be exploited, the borrok¡¯s magical aegis was a single cohesive structure with no obvious gaps or faults. It didn¡¯t even seem to have an opening for air. She didn¡¯t know how he was breathing, or how his words were reaching her.


    ¡°But that is just the borrok way.¡±


    He raised his staff and waved it to create a thousand icicles, a wall of sharpened blades as wide and tall as the room. There was nowhere to dodge, nowhere to go. The moment he launched it was the moment she would be skewered.


    The halfbreed almost defaulted to relying on Shoulderhorse, but stopped short as she noticed that there was more than just one layer. Three were being formed. Defending with the pony¡¯s anti-magic was impossible. It could only consume entire spells, not bits and pieces, and negating a magical phenomenon capable of covering the entire cellar could very well eat through more mana than she had. If that were to happen, Shoulderhorse¡¯s ability would backfire; the guardian would implode and leave her without the body part that was its namesake.


    Left with no obvious solutions, Claire opted for something more creative. She dashed straight out the room¡¯s door and ran down the hall. She was tempted to hide in one of the rooms, but such a choice would have been a risky gamble at best. If the corruptor¡¯s spell sped up when passing through ice, then she would be dead in a heartbeat. Even with her newfound speed, she found herself struggling to duck and weave past his other projectiles. A bonus to their velocity would leave her with no chance at survival. Likewise, standing out in the open may as well have been a death sentence. She would have to dodge or parry every projectile that came her way for even the slightest hope of survival.


    Standing at the end of the hall provided the best of both worlds. If the projectiles were sped up, she would just have to meet the ones that passed through the door head-on. If they didn¡¯t, she could dive into a nearby room and effectively rid herself of the need to deal with the barrage. Whatever the case, the halfbreed was ready to deal with the magical attack.


    But it never came.


    The mage cancelled his spell and pressed the bloodied tip of his staff against the floor. A moment later, the ground was covered in half a meter of ice. Everything in contact with the ground was frozen in place. And Claire was no exception.


    She was encased from foot to thigh, trapped where she stood. Her legs wouldn¡¯t budge, no matter how much she struggled.


    Only the borrok was still capable of locomotion. His steps were slow, confident. He was well aware that she couldn¡¯t break free, that the technique she had used to negate his signature spell had some sort of limitation. There was no other reason for her to flee as she did. He had her in check, with his lack of mana the only potential problem. The combination of his armour and his domain rendered his regeneration moot. He didn¡¯t have the fuel he needed to cast a more powerful spell, and his opponent was likely to ward off any cheaper projectiles.


    So he¡ªGregor¡ªapproached.


    Despite his wizard-like stat spread, the borrok was not afraid of getting in melee range¡ªnot when protected by a suit of magical armour. He was confident that he would end her so long as one of his deadly touch-based spells was able to find its mark. But a true close-quarters combatant the mage was not.


    Even with her legs glued in place, the half-reptilian monster girl was able to outperform him. He couldn¡¯t get close. She bashed his staff away every time he drew near. But she wasn¡¯t able to harm him. None of her attacks could get past his frost armour.


    Or so he thought.


    The tides turned as soon as the bluescale realised that she could repel him with just one hand on her weapon. She raised the other overhead and pulled one of the blades in his ankles towards her palm. The mercury-coated foreign object rose up through his leg. It tore through his flesh with no mercy and forced his muscle fibres apart, stopping only when it made contact with the ice surrounding him.


    She lowered the hand and started pushing as he flinched and screamed in pain. And then raised it again and repeated the process.


    Knowing that he couldn¡¯t allow things to continue as they were, the corruptor rapidly retreated. Once he was in his room, he dispelled both his armour and his field so that his mana could regenerate. It was a moment of vulnerability that he mitigated by sealing the door with a wall nearly twelve inches thick. His foe started to smash her way through it, bashing it over and over again with what seemed to be an equitaur¡¯s femur. It couldn¡¯t hold forever. But it was able to buy him enough time to rip the daggers out of his legs, freeze his wounds, and regenerate enough mana for another spell.


    The reptilian was met with a massive glacier the moment she broke through his defenses, a thick block of ice that outright destroyed the doorway. Though its force was dampened by the remnants of the mage¡¯s wall, he was sure that it had at least broken her arms and ribs. And that would solve his problem. All he had to do was seal off the room and bide enough time for another spell.


    Another incorrect deduction.


    There was an error among his axioms, a misconception founded on the assumption that a set of broken bones was enough to put a lid on his attacker¡¯s momentum. But a pulverized ribcage did not a deterred monster girl make.


    Recovering almost instantly after she was hit, the blue-scaled maiden leapt through the entrance before he could seal it and kicked him in the jaw. Her legs were the only tools still at her disposal. But that didn¡¯t stop her. She assaulted him with her knees and her feet, a continuous barrage of strikes without a moment¡¯s pause.


    Inflicting a single fatal blow was outside the realm of her capabilities. She hadn¡¯t been able to do it with her mace, and her kicks weren¡¯t capable of producing as much force as the club. But what she lacked in power, she made up for with speed. She hit him over and over. His head was constantly on the move and he was never given a chance to reorient or reposition. Gregor thought that he would be able to end it by grabbing her, but his arms were repelled each time he moved them. She would boot him in the shoulder or step on his wrists every time he so much as lifted his hands. Never was he able to get his palms anywhere close to her core.


    She didn¡¯t switch up her method of offense until the mage was sufficiently dazed. Once his consciousness started to fade, she kicked him in the back to send him flying against a wall, coated her fangs in quicksilver, and bit down on his neck as she coiled her legs around his torso. It was a pale imitation of what a purebred lamia would have been able to do with its venom glands, but a successful attack nonetheless.


    The borrok groaned as his veins were flooded with more and more of the poison. But he didn¡¯t give up. He desperately tried to reach her with his grasp, but his nerves were dulled and his limbs were struggling to respond.


    Gregor¡¯s body was half filled with mercury by the time she finally let go. Slowly but surely, his health was ticking down. The heavy metal was spreading to his vital organs, leaving him listless and unresponsive. Even his eyes were failing him. They were drooping. Closing against his will.


    Death was coming. Before he could break free of the restraints imposed upon his race. Before he could try to rebel against the librarians that had doomed his people to a cycle of torment.


    After being released from her fangs and kicked against another wall, he mustered up the last of his strength and forced his eyes open. Her back was turned on him. She knew what would come with his death, and she was trying to retreat before she was affected.


    But that too provided a final chance at reprisal.


    His body could hardly move. Nothing seemed to be responding to his commands. But he wasn¡¯t without his bag of tricks.


    With the last dredges of his mana, Gregor cast the spell that would be his swan song. A mold of ice appeared at his feet. A final will that anchored his weapon in place. After checking to ensure that it was angled just right, the borrok stopped resisting the reaper¡¯s advance.


    He allowed death¡¯s embrace to take him.


    And propelled the bladestaff with the explosion that accompanied his end.

 Chapter 58 — Gods and Illusions

    Chapter 58 ¡ª Gods and Illusions


    Claire made a mad dash down the hallway as the borrok succumbed to her poison. Its body was already swollen and the tip of its tail lit aflame; all signs served to indicate that the creature was due to explode. The halfbreed had started to retreat as soon as she was sure that the borrok¡¯s clock was ticking. It was a wise and necessary precaution. But not one that stopped harm from coming her way.


    The detonation¡¯s roar came hand in hand with a sudden sharp pain. Blood dribbled from her lips as her broken hands shot to her equally broken chest. There was a blade in it. A familiar chunk of ice, covered in a mix of red and yellow. Its molten shaft had been disintegrated by the explosion that propelled it, but the shard, the serrated catalyst, was fully intact.


    Log Entry 1113


    You have been afflicted with frostblight. Your health regeneration has been reduced from 266/hour to -234/hour.


    Falling to her knees, she pressed the palms of her hands against the ground and wheezed. With each cough came a glob of half-congealed blood, some of which were accompanied by bits and pieces of bone. But despite the constant aching pain, she wasn¡¯t worried. The goddess had already started to speak.


    Log Entry 1114


    You have slain a level 62 Borrok Rotblood.


    This feat has earned you the following bonuses:


    - 14 points of agility


    - 7 points of dexterity


    - 15 points of spirit


    - 2 points of strength


    - 9 points of vitality


    - 2 points of wisdom


    It wasn¡¯t Llystletein? That¡¯s strange...


    Log Entry 1115


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored, but cleansing all harmful status effects has ended in failure. This process will be attempted again following a purge of the foreign entity embedded within your body.


    Your racial class, Halfbreed, has reached level 43.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Rogue, has reached level 50 and qualified for evolution.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Force Mage, has reached level 32.


    You have been awarded the following bonuses for reaching Llystletein Rogue¡¯s final milestone.


    - 40 points of agility


    - 40 points of dexterity


    You have been awarded the following bonuses for reaching Llystletein Force Mage¡¯s 30th milestone.


    - 20 points of spirit


    - 30 points of wisdom


    You have gained 66 ability points.


    Log Entry 1116


    An attempt to purge the foreign entity embedded within your body has ended in failure. The Shard of True Ice has not been destroyed. Please stand by as the process is repeated.


    Ummmm¡­


    Log Entry 1117


    An attempt to purge the foreign entity embedded within your body has ended in failure. The Shard of True Ice cannot be destroyed. You will continue to be afflicted by frostblight.


    Okay, now I¡¯m worried.


    At the rate things were going, her health would finish ticking down in just a few hours. Killing things would buy her a bit of time, but she doubted that she would be able to sustain it indefinitely. She was going to need to sleep at some point, and with her status as it was, even a brief snooze was likely to spell her doom.


    Log Entry 1118


    Bloodthief has reached level 7.


    The halfbreed tried to rip the icy chunk out of her chest, but it didn¡¯t work. It didn¡¯t budge regardless of whether she pushed or pulled. The only thing that came out of the attempt was more pain.


    Log Entry 1119


    Envenom has reached level 12.


    Log Entry 1120


    Force Manipulation has reached level 9.


    Pushing her cloak aside and taking a closer look left Claire wide-eyed and shuddering. The catalyst had fused with her flesh. Looking through its clear blue frame, she found her own insides visible and exposed. She could see her magic circuits, her muscles, her veins, and her own pulsing heart. She could even see the damage that the foreign entity was inflicting. It was freezing her flesh and blood, creating tiny crystals in everything it touched.


    Log Entry 1121


    Makeshift Weapon Mastery has reached level 14.


    Log Entry 1122


    Manathief has reached level 6.


    Log Entry 1123


    Spear Mastery has reached level 5.


    That was a staff, Box, not a spear.


    Log Entry 1124


    Unarmed Combat Mastery has reached level 10.


    Taking her eyes off her chest, Claire immediately invested all her points into vitality before starting to gather her things. Boosting the stat lowered the constant drain on her health and extended her death timer from a mere three hours to just over eighteen. It was an improvement, but not a significant one in the grand scheme of things. The clock was still ticking, and any damage she took would only speed it up. Still, it was a welcome addition; a tiny safety net was better than none at all.


    Why did I have to put so many points in agility? I should have put more of them in vitality instead.


    Log Entry 1125


    You have unlocked the following Llystletein Rogue evolutions:


    - Assassin of the Lost Library


    - Incontinent Librarian


    - Llystletein Bloodthief


    - Fleetfoot Venomancer


    Half wallowing in regret, Claire decided to sit down and look through the choices before she went around finishing off all the guards. Llystletein Rogue had hit its maximum level. It wasn¡¯t going to improve anymore unless she decided its way forward. More importantly, choosing an upgrade was likely to provide an increase in power, power that could potentially serve to resolve her endeavour.


    Assassin of the Lost Library


    To be an assassin is to dwell within the dark fringes of society and live a life of isolation. Assassins are especially skilled at dealing with targets that are unaware or underprepared. Their skills emphasize remaining silent and deadly, making it in and out without a trace. The Lost Library¡¯s students are particularly potent, capable of manipulating the shadows themselves. Most Assassins struggle to form social connections and are thought of as untrustworthy. Those that suffer from chronic loneliness¡ªthe symptoms of which may include nightly hallucations or speaking to imaginary friends shaped like animals¡ªmay find this class effective.


    Becoming an Assassin of the Lost Library triples all Assassin-based ability score boosts and provides an immediate bonus to agility and dexterity. Every 10 Assassin of the Lost Library levels will provide an additional bonus to all ability scores. Assassin of the Lost Library will also gain additional bonuses on the 100th and 150th levels.


    Possible class upgrades include Llystletein Shadowwalker, Llystletein Hexhound, and Morally Bankrupt Librarian, amongst others.


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    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Reach level 50 as a Llystletein Rogue


    - Slay an individual that possesses a title


    - Raise the Sneaking skill to level 10 or higher


    - Raise the Assassinate skill to level 5 or higher


    - Slay at least 10 targets unaware of your presence


    The shadowmancy sounds really neat, but I don¡¯t think I want to specialize in assassination. I¡¯d rather fight head on.


    Incontinent Librarian


    The Incontinent Librarian is an individual with a dysfunctional bladder and an even more dysfunctional work ethic. Cursed with many burdens, Incontinent Librarians make up for their weaknesses with incredible competence in the art of record sorting. Choosing this class will offer very little in the way of combat potential, but it will provide for a significant bonus to Llystletein Authority and bestow a thorough understanding of the class system. Individuals with hyperactivity disorders find this class to be their calling.


    Becoming an Incontinent Librarian provides an immediate and significant bonus to all stats. Every 5 Incontinent Librarian levels will provide an additional bonus to all ability scores. Incontinent Librarians will lose more of their bladder function on the 75th and 100th levels.


    Possible class upgrades are currently unknown.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Pee yourself


    - Reach level 50 as a Llystletein Rogue


    The last time that happened was when I was five, Box!


    Llystletein Bloodthief


    Llystletein Bloodthieves are degenerates that derive pleasure from the thrill of combat. Feeding off the lives of others, they deliver savage blows that value lethality over grace and efficacy over honour. This class is exclusive to those affected by Llystletein magic. Little is known about the mental states of Llystletein Bloodthieves, courtesy of the low sample size, but all those that have existed have trended towards extremity in perversion. Individuals that lack a sense of shame benefit most from this class¡¯ selection.


    Becoming a Llystletein Bloodthief provides an immediate bonus to dexterity and strength. Every ten Llystletein Bloodthief levels will provide an additional bonus to agility and vitality. Llystletein Bloodthieves will gain additional bonuses on the 100th and 150th levels.


    Possible class upgrades are currently unknown.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Unlock the Bloodthief skill.


    - Reach level 50 as a Llystletein Rogue.


    - Raise the Double Stab skill to level 10 or higher.


    - Acquire the Llystletein Rogue mutation prior to Rogue level 15.


    Is it just me, or does this class seem good for stabbing things in the face?


    Fleetfoot Venomancer


    Venomancers are often defined as individuals capable of providing unconventional solutions to problems that do not require them. They are capable of curing seizures with paralysis, migraines with prolonged unconsciousness, and boredom with death. The fleetfoot variant of this class is particularly potent at spreading its concoctions and poisons on the run. Individuals that lack the ability to read the room often find this class most suitable.


    Becoming a Fleetfoot Venomancer increases all Venomancer-based ability score boosts by 25% and provides an immediate boost to agility and wisdom. Every 20 Fleetfoot Venomancer levels provides an additional bonus to your agility and wisdom scores. Fleetfoot Venomancer will gain additional bonuses on the 75th and 100th levels.


    Possible class upgrades include Supersonic Moonshiner, Architect of Biohazards, and Awakened Apothecary, amongst others.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Poison over a hundred creatures


    - Reach level 50 as a Rogue or Poison Mage


    - Raise the Envenom skill to level 10 or higher


    Interesting, but not very practical.


    Claire tried to cross her arms, as she normally would, but had to stop as a result of the icy blade in her way. She could get the limbs to intersect if she raised or lowered them, but neither position was very comfortable, so she settled for allowing them to slump at her sides as she considered her options.


    Log Entry 1126


    You have become a Llystletein Bloodthief.


    Your dexterity and strength have been increased by 50.


    The Double Stab skill has evolved into Phantom Blade. It will now activate on all attacks.


    The Bloodthief and Manathief skills have been enhanced. They can now be activated through touch, regardless of whether damage is dealt, and all relevant recovery caps have been removed.


    Log Entry 1127


    Achievement Unlocked - Evolution


    You have begun to tap into your potential through the acquisition of your first class evolution. You have become slightly resistant to indigestion.


    At the end of the day, the Assassin and Bloodthief classes had seemed like the only viable options. The Librarian class was clearly meant for scholars, and Claire had no intention of trading away any of her combat prowess given the situation at hand, nor did she see any appeal in losing control of her bladder. Venomancer had also been dismissed, but not at all for the same set of reasons. It did seem like a serviceable combat class, but she was already starting to see that poisons had their limitations. A high vitality stat was all that was required to weaken or even null the effects of any given concoction. Making matters worse was resistance. Some creatures had a natural tolerance to certain blends, while others could develop skills with similar effects. All in all, it was too unreliable. If poison was her only weapon, then every encounter would boil down to a coin flip with her life at stake.


    Between the two more viable choices, Llystletein Bloodthief was the clear winner, and not just because it would eventually provide her with the vitality she needed to neutralize the drain on her health. Assassin of the Lost Library certainly seemed to have a potent set of strengths, but the halfbreed preferred candid approaches to their clandestine alternatives. Stealthy approaches were too easy to mess up, and she very much preferred charging into a mob of enemies with her weapons at the ready, even if it meant giving up on shadowmancy.


    Nodding, as if to affirm her decision, the halfbreed stood up and sought a victim as she read through all her updated skills. She was going to need to test them, but exploring the subterranean space led to the conclusion that there was nothing to kill. The borrok¡¯s prisoners had already perished, courtesy of collateral damage.


    Maybe I should hit some of the statues.


    Claire walked up to one of the frozen watchers in the room she had entered from. The 2% Catgirl looked almost exactly like the guards, with the layer of ice surrounding it the only real differentiator. For all intents and purposes, it was the perfect training dummy. So she raised her fists and swung.


    The punch broke straight through the glassy barrier and pierced the cyclops¡¯ gut. Unlike Double Stab, Phantom Blade didn¡¯t deliver a second attack. The second instance of damage occurred at the same time as the first. She could feel the creature¡¯s life force enter through the thin veil of light blue mana coating her fingers. The constant ache in her chest quieted for the briefest of moments as she drained the creature of its health. The health she didn¡¯t know it had.


    Eyes wide, the halfbreed slowly looked between her fist, which felt strangely warm, and her target, whose guts were leaking red and yellow.


    She could feel its pulse.


    More of its blood spewed onto her hand each time its heart beat.


    It was alive.


    And that was exactly why the halfbreed followed her first attack with another. She drilled a knee into its face and a dagger into its throat. She would have continued by her club into its spine, but stopped as the goddess¡¯ voice echoed through her mind.


    Log Entry 1128


    You have slain a level 27 Corrupted Watcher.


    A smile crossed her lips as she looked around the room. She knew that monsters incapable of resisting, like the goblins she had sacrificed in Builledracht¡¯s rituals, would give very little experience. But even so, she had every intention of using them to fuel her growth. It wouldn¡¯t be long until she was finally able to ascend. And with only six and a half levels remaining, every tiny sliver was sure to help.


    ___


    Claire


    Health: 955/972


    Mana: 2550/2580


    Health Regen: -52/hour (448/hour)


    Mana Regen: 1824/hour


    Ability Scores - 0 Points Available


    - Agility: 304


    - Dexterity: 270


    - Spirit: 216


    - Strength: 215


    - Vitality: 224


    - Wisdom: 456


    Racial Class: Halfbreed - Level 43.71


    - Lashing Tailstrike - Level 2.17


    - Paralyzing Gaze - Level 4.87


    - Quadrupedal Bloodrush - Level 1.02


    Primary Class: Llystletein Bloodthief - Level 50.01


    - Assassinate - Level 9.65


    - Bloodthief - Level 7.06


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 8.33


    - Envenom - Level 12.10


    - Manathief - Level 6.25


    - Phantom Blade - Level 1.01


    Secondary Class: Llystletein Force Mage - Level 32.90


    - Basic Force Resistance - Level 3.57


    - Catgirl Detector V. 0.17 - Level 3.35


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 12.13


    - Force Manipulation - Level 9.13


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 2.00


    - Basic Fire Resistance Level 2.72


    - Club Mastery - Level 10.79


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 11.26


    - Dancing - Level 6.32


    - Digging - Level 10.27


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 5.24


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 14.30


    - Marish - Level 19.03


    - Sewing - Level 1.42


    - Sneaking - Level 12.83


    - Spear Mastery - Level 5.46


    - Sword Mastery - Level 7.27


    - Throwing - Level 6.54


    - Tracking - Level 8.94


    - Unarmed Combat Mastery - Level 10.07

 Chapter 59 — Gods and Illusions II

    Chapter 59 ¡ª Gods and Illusions II


    Claire cracked her neck and stretched her shoulders as she hopped up onto the mansion¡¯s roof. Everything on the premises was dead. Most of her kills had come from the basement, but the icy statues had constituted less than a tenth of the experience she gained. There was an argument to be made that it wasn¡¯t really worth her time, given that it had taken the better part of half an hour, but the halfbreed was satisfied. Bloodthief had kept her health topped up, even without level ups, and whaling on the icy statues had served as a decent opportunity for her to learn the ins and outs of her newest skill.


    Opening her status for the fifth time since her evolution, the newly christened thief reviewed the ability¡¯s functionality with a smile.


    Phantom Blade - Level 2


    Violence begets violence, sometimes more literally than others. Please be aware that this skill is not the solution to every problem. If you are using it as such, then you are doing something very, very wrong.


    Effects


    - Consume 25MP to empower your next physical attack and transform it into a Phantom Strike


    - Phantom Strikes target the health pool directly and are considered magical in nature


    - Phantom Strikes deal additional damage equal to 60% (50% + 5% per level) of the damage dealt by the initial attack


    She couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of pride and satisfaction every time she looked through her most recent acquisitions. Rogue¡¯s evolution wasn¡¯t quite an ascension, but as the first class she had ever mastered, it remained an important milestone in her growth. The whole ordeal left her feeling a bit strange. If the last seven years were anything to go by, ritual mage should have been the first class she mastered, but there she was, with a powerful rogue variant at level 50 roughly a week after acquiring it. It was nothing near the record¡ªone particularly bold gladiator had acquired his first class and capped it in just half a day¡ªbut Claire was more than proud. It was her most impressive achievement, barring the time she had tricked Princess Octavia into drinking from a toilet.


    A few moments of gloating later, the halfbreed raised her head from the display and gazed upon the lava-lit city. As much as she wanted to dawdle, there wasn¡¯t any time for her to sit around and relax. The two levels she had earned by exterminating all the guards had bought her a bit more time, but she needed to stay on the move if she didn¡¯t want to die. The only problem was that she had no idea how she was supposed to find another half-decent hunting ground. She didn¡¯t know how Borrok Peak worked, given that it was ultimately a smaller part of the dungeon known as the lost library, but something about the surprisingly intelligent way the creatures conducted themselves led her to believe that it was unlikely if not impossible for the manor to suddenly find itself repopulated.


    Jumping into a crowded district and slaughtering the city¡¯s denizens was always an option, but a poor one. She was sure to be surrounded just as easily as she had been the first time. Claire was open to the idea of taking on a large horde of borroks and other insectoids, but she wasn¡¯t willing to do it in the open seeing as how the buildings that lined the settlement¡¯s streets were effectively non-present, as far as her enemies were concerned. Half their forces could fly right over them, and their mages could see and fire straight through them. She needed a quieter stretch of land, preferably one that was either soundproofed, like the mansion, or one that had a choke point that would prevent her from being swarmed.


    ¡°You have the staff! I sense its power!¡±


    Herk called out to her in his ear-piercing voice as he swam down the side of the mountain. The obnoxious spirit was as loud as his flaming core was bright; it was like he was making no effort to keep himself concealed. Had any of the manor¡¯s guards still been alive, he would have grabbed their attention as easily as would a bell signalling an enemy attack.


    ¡°Be quiet.¡± The halfbreed shot the dolphin-shaped gargoyle a blatant glare. ¡°Are you trying to get us killed?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter! With the staff¡¯s power, our king will finally be whole again. Our magic will be blessed to overcome their immunity! They¡¯ll drop like flies!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. Quiet down or I¡¯ll make you.¡±


    ¡°No need to be so hostile,¡± said the rock. His eyes ran over her body, eventually settling on her chest. ¡°What happened to the staff? Why is its tip inside of you?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me,¡± said Claire, with a shrug.


    The gargoyle paused for a moment, but soon regained his vigour. ¡°It¡¯s not a problem. The shard, the power source, appears to be fully intact. We should still be able to offer it to our king.¡±


    ¡°How are you going to remove it?¡±


    ¡°Painlessly, of course. Our king will perform the operation himself.¡± The dolphin turned around and lowered his posture as if to offer her a seat. ¡°Now come, let¡¯s return posthaste. We wouldn¡¯t want to keep the lord waiting.¡±


    After a moment of deliberation, Claire placed a hand on his spine.


    And started draining his health and mana.


    The true ice was fused with her flesh. Even with a paltry understanding of her own biology, she knew that its removal would not be simple. Surgical precision was needed to avoid any heavy damage, and the giant whale¡¯s poor vision served as a clear indicator that it would not be able to deliver.


    ¡°W-what are you doing!?¡±


    ¡°I know you¡¯re lying.¡±


    The flame spirit tried to squirm away, but she grabbed its sail with her other hand. Squeezing on the stony appendage not only kept the fishy boulder in place, but also disfigured him and left an imprint of her grip on his dorsal fin. Hurting the cete was the only way she expressed her annoyance. Her face was kept calm and free of emotion.


    ¡°How!?¡±


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have just asked that if you weren¡¯t.¡±


    Moving her hands to the dolphin¡¯s tail, Claire grabbed him, lifted him over her shoulders, and smashed him into the mansion¡¯s roof full force. The rock monster was surprisingly light for what he was; moving him around took nearly no effort.


    ¡°What are you planning?¡±


    ¡°Nothing! I was going to take you to our master so that he could extract it!¡±


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°Tell me the truth.¡±


    ¡°I am!¡±


    The shout did nothing to prevent the halfbreed from attacking. Again, she picked up the gargoyle and bashed his face against the roof. The second strike carried more force than the first, cracking ice and stone alike. The softer of the two materials was deformed by the heavy blow; the dolphin¡¯s bottlenose was squished and made to look like that of a boar¡¯s. One of the cracks running along the side of his body revealed the cause of his lack of weight. He was hollow¡ªthe rock that comprised his frame was but a thin membrane floating around his core.


    ¡°I know you can¡¯t remove it.¡± She placed a foot on the cetacean¡¯s head and ground her sole into its temple.


    Herk stayed silent for a few seconds before bursting into flame. The heat emanating from his body forced his assailant, who was unwilling to lose any more health than absolutely necessary, to release him and step back as he took to the air.


    ¡°Fine. I admit it. There¡¯s no helping you.¡± The flame spirit sneered at her as he reshaped his snout and snapped its broken jaw back into place. ¡°You¡¯ve merged with the shard. I was worried you were going to absorb it, but you don¡¯t have even the slightest affinity for ice. It¡¯s going to eat at you until you die. It could¡¯ve been painless if you listened to me and let my master consume you, but I won¡¯t be letting you off so easily anymore.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°You couldn¡¯t kill the borrok. You won¡¯t be able to kill me either.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need to. The king will learn of this. Now that he knows you have it, he will hunt you, he will find you, and he will wrench the shard from your charred corpse! There will be no mercy!¡±


    Cackling in his usual shrill tone, the dolphin turned tail and began swimming away, ascending to prevent her from getting to him. But while he was able to escape her grasp at first, he soon found himself losing speed. He went from dashing to slowly swimming forwards to moving in the direction opposite the one he intended. The combination of his low velocity and his lack of weight had left the gargoyle highly susceptible to Claire¡¯s magic. She easily overpowered the force of his acceleration and reeled him into the palm of her hand, like a fish on the end of a line.


    Turning his head, horrified, the lavaswimmer vomited a projectile at her, a desperate last ditch attempt to escape. But that too was proven futile. A swing of the halfbreed¡¯s mace dismantled the flames mid flight, and a second did the same to the cete¡¯s tail.


    ¡°You¡¯re just a low-leveled rogue with heavy investment in speed! Why can¡¯t I resist your spell!?¡±


    Not bothering to answer the question, Claire bashed open the dolphin¡¯s gut, grabbed his core, and squeezed. He tried to resist her, but was unable to break free. Having his resources drained straight from the source of his power was disrupting the flow of his magic; he couldn¡¯t piece together any spells, nor could he manipulate the crumbling, artificial construct he used as an exoskeleton. He couldn¡¯t even talk. For a ball of fire wrapped in stone, that too was a process fueled by mana. All he could do, as he was subjected to magical strangulation, was tremble with rage and terror.


    Log Entry 1262


    You have slain a level 24 lesser volcano spirit.


    This feat has earned you the following bonuses:


    - 1 point of strength


    - 1 point of wisdom


    That was a lot less satisfying than I thought it would be.


    Claire frowned as she threw the dulled core, the only part of the spirit that remained, off the side of the building. She had been wanting to rid herself of the annoyance for quite some time, but something about following through on the impulse left her feeling empty.


    She didn¡¯t want to dwell on the depressing sensation for long, so she turned her eyes back on the city and resumed the search for a suitable place to hunt. Her gaze eventually settled on the arena. If the battleground was anything like the Valencian colosseum, then it was sure to contain a subterranean space filled with monsters and combatants. Getting chased around by the local authorities remained a relevant concern, but the arena¡¯s barracks were sure to feature hallways that she could use to limit the number of enemies she had to take on at once.


    The pyramid seemed to be the only other notable alternative, but she wasn¡¯t keen on visiting it just yet. She was almost entirely convinced that the sentinel and the lifegiver were in or around the settlement¡¯s tallest building; the intricate icy structure looked to be the sort of fancy government facility where all of a society¡¯s higher ups would gather. And though she had every intention of murdering both within the next few days, addressing the ticking time bomb that was her abnormal status condition was a far higher priority. At the very least, she wanted to boost her vitality stat to its third threshold before fighting any tougher foes. The corruptor had already almost killed her when she fought it in good health.


    Moving through the settlement proved surprisingly difficult. The warriors on patrol weren¡¯t the only ones on guard. The entire population seemed a bit jumpy, save for the foreigners, who for whatever reason, were no longer present.


    Avoiding contact with the locals sounded like a simple and easily achievable goal, but the icy buildings professed otherwise. It was easy for the monsters to spot her through the translucent walls, and the bloodstains that covered her clothes only made it even easier. Like the ice, the reds and yellows glimmered beneath the light of the stars.


    Two hours and eight silenced wolves later, Claire finally arrived at the circular landmark. Unlike when she last visited it, it was busy and rife with noise. Borroks and their corrupted companions lined the stands, cheering and jeering as they watched the pair in the ring. Both of them were clear outsiders, one an uncorrupted watcher with an icy bow in hand, and the other, a halfling wielding an axe twice the size of his body.


    The tiny berserker¡¯s top-like fighting style led Claire to raise a brow. She was amused by the speed at which he was spinning around, but her attention didn¡¯t stay on him for long. There was a far more important, time-sensitive matter at hand, and it just so happened that she was more interested in living than she was watching a man spin five times a second. Using the duel¡¯s climax as cover, she snuck around the building and sought an entrance. The first one she found was quickly dismissed. There were three borroks guarding it and no way for her to get past them. Likewise, the second doorway also featured a living bomb that she couldn¡¯t displace. It took finding a third entrance for the halfbreed¡¯s requirements to be met.


    Watching over door number three was a group of watchers and wolves. The seven-guard headcount meant that it was technically more secure than the alternatives she had previously discovered, but she would much rather find herself swarmed than use an entryway protected by a bug-monkey. There was simply no way for her to stop the supposed primates from exploding and subsequently attracting more of their kind with the resulting noise. The corrupted monsters, on the other hand, were easily dispatched. Hardly any effort was needed for her to strangle and consume them.


    With all the guards dead and the path clear, the blueblooded rogue tiptoed her way down the stairs and entered the arena¡¯s basement. She had expected to see an inferior rendition of what she had seen when she visited the facility¡¯s Valencian equivalent. Back home, the fighters were treated as local celebrities, often given suites so beautiful that even the most pretentious of guests would rarely ever complain. The VIP service provided was the best that money could buy. Anything that a combatant requested was procured almost immediately; food, drinks, harlots, and servants were always at the ready. Even the beasts were treated well. When not in combat, they would be taken care of, fed, and groomed by staff trained to attend to their every need. Many thought of the gladiator pit as a paradise where aspiring warriors would be made into legends. A place where dreamers would bridge the gap between fantasy and reality. The space beneath the borroks¡¯ arena, on the other hand, was a place where dreamers went to die.


    Thick bars of ice lined the sides of the stony corridor. The individual cells were spacious, with each having more than enough room for its inhabitants to pace back and forth. There were a few prisoners present within each, most of whom were huddled away in distant corners, as if to make themselves unseen. The lack of space made it impossible for Claire to sneak past them, but even though most of them were quick to notice her, few were willing to interact. Some went as far as shirking away, as if to express that they wanted nothing to do with her.


    They were too busy speaking with each other, quietly whispering getaway plans that failed to escape the halfbreed¡¯s ears¡ªnot that she cared. The only group that caught her interest was one she heard in another hall, a group that happened to contain a familiar set of voices.

 Chapter 60 — Gods and Illusions III

    Chapter 60 ¡ª Gods and Illusions III


    ¡°Do you think Beck will make it in time?¡±


    Carter looked up from his position in the cell¡¯s darkest corner as he addressed the lady seated near its only door. The pair was being held alongside two strangers. One was a large, unconscious squirrel, and the other an equally unconscious bear. The rodent had been asleep ever since he was thrown into the cell, whereas the latter¡¯s state was derived from the centaurs¡¯ handiwork. Targg, as the man had called himself, had been a little too lively. He would have been sure to attract a group of guards had Marleena not clobbered him over the head with the butt of her heavy metal spear.


    ¡°Stop being such a coward. You¡¯ll clear your name if you just fight and win.¡±


    The mare snapped at Carter with a glare. Unlike her masculine counterpart, she had no intention of sitting around and awaiting rescue. She knew that Beckard had promised to send a search party if they failed to return within the day, but the mountain was vast and the cat was unaware of their capture. Whoever he sent was unlikely to think of checking the borrokian gaol.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to fight.¡±


    ¡°Are you really still whining? It¡¯s your fault we¡¯re here in the first place. We could¡¯ve been in and out in half a day if you didn¡¯t decide to open your big fat mouth."


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Marleena. I didn¡¯t think that they would take us in for somethi¡ª¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t think? Of course you didn¡¯t think. You never think! Next time, stop and use your head before you decide to start telling everyone around us that we managed to sneak in without paying the fee!¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t supposed to be a big deal. They didn¡¯t lock us up for it last time.¡±


    The male centaur slouched and hung his shoulders. He didn¡¯t think his actions were particularly unacceptable. Pvraggdt, the watcher that was their guide, was a well known smuggler. Everyone that recognized him was well aware that he was only ever accompanied by illegals. And as the borroks themselves had little need for currency, no one thought it a matter worth pursuing. The watcher had never done the settlement any harm and his word was as good as any token of trust.


    ¡°Last time, they weren¡¯t under attack,¡± said Marleena, through gritted teeth. ¡°Why would you admit to sneaking past the guard right after they told you he¡¯d been killed? You moron!¡±


    ¡°I just thought it would be better if we cleared our names before they accused us of murder.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a terrible idea, you spineless imbecile!¡±


    ¡°Really? It sounds like a great idea to me.¡±


    A third voice interjected itself into the conversation as the squirrel pushed himself off the ground and crawled between the two centaurs.


    ¡°We may be locked up right now, but I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll realise that they¡¯ve messed up soon enough. If I¡¯m reading the tropes right, they¡¯ll be releasing us by the end of the day. Much better than picking an unnecessary fight, I¡¯d say.¡±


    ¡°You see, Marleena? Even he agrees with me. I was acting with our best interests at heart.¡±


    Adjusting his glasses, the centaur extended a hand to the oversized squirrel and greeted him with a soft smile. ¡°Nice to meet you, friend. I¡¯m Carter, centaurian plainsrunner, and that temperamental young lady is Ms. Morgan, my employer¡¯s daughter.¡±


    ¡°Marleena Morgan, thoroughbred.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Geoffrey Hogdstoose, but I¡¯d rather just go by Geoff, if you don¡¯t mind,¡± said the squirrel.


    Carter nodded. ¡°Of course, Geoff. So how did you wind up here?¡±


    ¡°Well, I was at the scene of the crime when the bridge¡¯s guard was murdered. They didn¡¯t take too kindly to me when I tried to explain that I was just a witness. I tried to resist, so they knocked me out. I should¡¯ve just come quietly to begin with and saved myself the trouble.¡±


    ¡°You see, Marleena? That¡¯s exactly why I thought it would be best to be honest.¡±


    ¡°It clearly didn¡¯t work.¡± The mare tapped the butt of her spear against the ground and clicked her tongue. ¡°Are you imbeciles both just going to ignore the fact that we¡¯re about to be put through trial by combat?¡±


    ¡°Trial by combat? Really?¡±


    The squirrel¡¯s tail rose as his whole body stiffened. It was clearly the last thing he expected.


    ¡°Sadly, yes.¡± Carter shook his head. ¡°There was another attack shortly after you were brought in, and they decided that they were going to round up all the outsiders and have us prove our innocence.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ strange. I thought¡­ no, maybe I need to reconsider¡­¡±


    The squirrel started muttering under his breath, with only bits and pieces still audible.


    ¡°Geoff? Geoff¡­? I think we¡¯ve lost him.¡± The stallion snapped his fingers in front of the rodent¡¯s face, but the tree-dweller remained unresponsive. He had already shut out all external stimulus. ¡°What an odd fellow. Nice, but odd.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s just as much of an imbecile as you are,¡± spat Marleena.


    ¡°Ma¡¯am, please. I¡¯m just trying to b¡ª¡± Carter froze in the middle of his sentence, his ears twitching.


    ¡°Carter?¡±


    ¡°Shhh¡­ something¡¯s coming.¡±


    He pressed his head against the wall so that he could better pay attention to the footsteps. Something was approaching, and it wasn¡¯t a borrok or a warrior. It only had two legs and it didn¡¯t chitter as it walked. The occasional rustling of clothing seemed to indicate that it was something more intelligent. His first guess was that it was the sentinel, back to take another pair into the arena. It seemed like a solid assumption at first, but he began to doubt it as he realised that the auditory stimulus was accompanied by a faint glow. The dull magical light led the centaur to raise a brow. Borroks didn¡¯t need light to see. That was why they had turned the sunless subspace into their refuge to begin with. Or at least that was the theory that one of the citadel¡¯s more intelligent individuals had proposed.


    Carter gulped as the light grew brighter. After another brief moment, the glow¡¯s source finally drew close enough for it to be revealed. The figure it came from was tiny. Its bipedal outline was noticeably shorter than the horse-man¡¯s, even in his seated position.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Seeing its¡ªher¡ªfeatures, the stallion found himself with his mouth open and his breath caught in his throat. He almost couldn¡¯t believe his eyes. The hallucination before him was practically the spitting image of what an average centaurian mercenary, like Carter, imagined a foreign princess to be. She had a thin, dainty build, fair, pale skin, and a silken bluish white mane that, even bloodstained and uncombed, left a deep-rooted impression of awe.


    Her body was glowing with an almost divine light, with the crystalline blade in her chest serving as its primary source, no doubt a racial feature of sorts. Delicate glimmering scales could be seen peeking out from the cuts in her cloak. But as beautiful, tempting, and almost immoral as they were, the lemella were but an extra. His eyes had long been drawn away from them. The stallion¡¯s focus had settled instead on her head. And not because of her pretty features, nor her stunning cheek scales. It wasn''t even her piercing, slit-eyed gaze. Nay, he was staring at the part of her that had taken his breath away.


    Her ears.


    To merely describe them as shapely was an act of blasphemy that no centaur could possibly let slide. They were, in a word, heavenly. Each had a thick base that grew out into a fine tip, the transition of which was flawlessly uniform. Not a single point along the length was any wider than the one before it. The fur decorating them was fluffy and well maintained, coming in the same bluish white as her hair. If that was all they were, then they would simply be ideal, but the glowing princess¡¯ went further beyond. Their size, their jaw-dropping size, pushed them into the realm of the divine. From base to tip, they were one and a half times as long as her head was wide, a fantasy that every stallion had dreamed, but none had ever seen fulfilled.


    ¡°Carter Plainsrunner, Marleena Morgan.¡± She called for them. Her voice was soft, frail even.


    ¡°Who are you, and how do you know our names?¡±


    Marleena snapped out a response, as she always did, but a momentary quiver had betrayed her nervousness. Unsettling the merchant¡¯s daughter even further was the lack of an answer. The visitor continued to draw nearer without identifying herself or explaining her presence.


    ¡°You should leave.¡±


    That one line was all she said as she walked right up to the door. One of her hands reached towards the magical icy lock that kept their cage sealed, the lock that not even Marleena¡¯s thousand strength could break. At first, nothing seemed to happen. But after a brief pause, the construct began to disintegrate, leaving not a trace behind as it was sucked into a singular point in space.


    ¡°Take the left path. The guards are gone.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what i¡ª¡±


    Finally coming back to his senses, Carter tried to question the fair maiden¡¯s instructions, but as she looked upon him, he found himself incapable of both speech and movement. He was stuck in position, seemingly frozen by an overpowering, inexplicable force. He couldn''t even open his log to check the entry that explained its source. Likewise, Marleena stiffened and fell over; she had been subjected to the same mysterious power.


    ¡°Stop asking questions. Just go.¡±


    The door flung open on its own accord as she moved her hand towards the direction of her origin and pointed a finger down the hall.


    Carter looked towards Marleena as soon as his body unfroze. The party¡¯s decision maker still seemed a bit nervous, trembling as she turned to match her guard¡¯s gaze. Her weapon still at the ready, she gulped, nodded, and slowly stood up, motioning for him to follow as she cautiously walked to the open door. The pair had expected the mysterious figure to guide them, but she started walking down the hall opposite the point she had denoted before Marleena was able to step out of the cage. Carter tried following her with his ears, but he wasn¡¯t able to track her. She had suddenly vanished without a trace, footsteps and all.


    Taking a deep breath, he picked up the squirrel that had introduced himself as Geoff and followed after Marleena. He paused for a second to consider rescuing the bear as well, but with no way to carry the massive brute, he discarded the thought and continued on his way. Targg would have to save himself.


    The escape went smoothly. The underground prison¡¯s closest exit was guard-free as described, and from there, the pair only needed to make a beeline for the tunnel that led out of the settlement. As centaurs, they had no trouble covering the straight shot that was the road to freedom. All they had to do was run. It didn¡¯t matter if there were things in their way. Their massive thousand-pound frames allowed them to gallop straight through anyone that tried to block their path, watcher, borrok, bear, or otherwise. Not even the sentinel would have been able to stop them, once they picked up enough speed. Both were about halfway to their second ascension; a mere once ascended borrok was no match for the raw strength wrought from their level 150 racial classes.


    Only after exiting the city and leaping over the bridge did the pair finally slow to a trot. There were no pursuers. Not even any of the fliers had given chase. The few that they had spotted along the way had all been heading to the arena.


    ¡°Well, that was certainly an experience.¡± Geoff swooshed his tail around as he leapt off the stallion¡¯s back and landed on the ground. ¡°Thanks for getting me out of there. I didn¡¯t realise it was time for us to go. I think I might¡¯ve got a little lost in my thoughts.¡±


    ¡°A little? A little? You haven¡¯t said anything for minutes!¡± shouted Marleena.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, it¡¯s a bit of a bad habit of mine.¡± The squirrel smiled sheepishly. ¡°How did you convince them to let us out anyway?¡±


    ¡°We didn¡¯t,¡± said Carter. ¡°And I don¡¯t think any of us will be able to visit this place anymore, at least not for a while.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ that certainly complicates things,¡± said Geoff. ¡°Do you think I can find any rotbloods anywhere else? I need to duel one, for reasons.¡±


    ¡°I doubt it,¡± said Carter.


    ¡°That writes off that condition¡­ then if I want¡­ I¡¯m going to¡­¡± The squirrel sank deep into another set of thoughts.


    ¡°There he goes again,¡± said Carter, who tried waving a hoof in front of the smaller man¡¯s face.


    ¡°I know I¡¯ve said it already, but he¡¯s just as much of an imbecile as you,¡± said Marleena.


    ¡°You really didn¡¯t have to say it again, Ma¡¯am. I heard you the first time.¡±


    The mare crossed her arms and humphed before looking over her shoulder, as if to check for the phantom that had come to their aid. ¡°Who do you think that was, anyway?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know...¡± Carter did the same as he caught his breath. ¡°Was she even a person?¡±


    ¡°Are you stupid? You spoke with her. What else could she have been, but a person?¡±


    ¡°Maybe a spirit of some sort. People don¡¯t glow,¡± said the stallion. ¡°And I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve heard of anyone capable of disintegrating a magical lock like that either.¡±


    ¡°Could you tell where she went when she walked down the hall?¡±


    Carter shook his head. ¡°It was like she vanished.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the most useless guard I¡¯ve ever had.¡± Marleena sighed.


    ¡°I¡¯m trying Marleena, I really am.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to report this to Beck.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not going to be happy to hear it.¡± The stallion slowly shook his head as he recalled the phantom¡¯s form. And ears. Mostly her ears. ¡°Do you think she might have been a celestial or divine?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so ridiculous. Alfred is the only celestial here that would give us the light of day. She was probably just another librarian.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    Carter agreed, but not because the younger centaur¡¯s argument had won him over. He was already convinced that his prayers had been answered, and that they had been saved by none other than the goddess of ears. The fact that he had prayed to the goddess of war was a convincing argument to the contrary, but as a man easily distracted by his second mind, he was too preoccupied to recall that particular tidbit.


    ¡°We¡¯d best get back to camp,¡± said Marleena. ¡°Get running, you lazy oaf. I¡¯m sick of all the snow, and I¡¯m dying to treat myself to some fresh hay.¡±


    ¡°Camp? Do you guys happen to know any other people?¡± asked Geoff, who had somehow missed an entire conversation. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to look for people to help me kill the things I need for a specific ascension, and the one girl I¡¯ve been trying to follow around has been eluding me. Haven¡¯t even caught so much as a glimpse of her since she killed the bridge¡¯s toll guy.¡±


    ¡°Then you might want to come with us. We¡¯re headed to the citadel,¡± said Carter.


    Marleena had started shooting the squirrel glares ever since he had casually branded himself a stalker, but the stallion extended him an invitation nonetheless. The citadel was already home to all sorts of irregulars. Another deviant would hardly make a difference.


    ¡°The citadel? Can¡¯t say I¡¯ve heard of that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s where Marleena and I have been staying,¡± explained the plainsrunner. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone else we know has come all the way up to the peak, but you might be able to find who you¡¯re looking for if you come with us.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like as good an idea as any. I¡¯m in.¡±


    With a smile and a nod, the red-furred rodent hopped back atop the stallion¡¯s back and made for pastures anew.

 Chapter 61 — Gods and Illusions IV

    Chapter 61 ¡ª Gods and Illusions IV


    Claire watched the centaurs depart from around the corner as she contemplated a moral dilemma. She hadn¡¯t expected prisoners. The gladiators back home were willing to put their bodies on the line and face death for fame and glory. Their pride always came first; they were known for never backing down from duels, be they in the arena or out. Given their profession, it simply couldn¡¯t be helped. Their reputations were their livelihoods, and they were willing to go to no end to defend them. As such, it was not uncommon for a household name to be slain by an unknown wishing to put themselves before the public eye.


    But the foreigners held beneath the arena were not gladiators. Based on their lack of equipment, Claire was all but certain that half of them weren¡¯t even fighters to begin with, but rather victims, individuals persecuted and captured for none other than their lack of insectoid features. Their destitute expressions filled her with a faint sense of pity. She found herself strangely reluctant to murder them. But at the same time, she needed the experience.


    The indecisiveness led her to postpone the decision until she finished off all the mindless beasts. Not that they were truly mindless to begin with. She was well aware that, given enough experience, any form of life could eventually attain the ability to form coherent thoughts and clear wills.


    Log Entry 1277


    You have slain a level 18 Barbearian.


    In retrospect, even the borroks were edge cases. The first she had spoken to had clearly been able to think and speak, and they lived in a community that suggested an understanding of each others¡¯ needs. The corruptor had taken it a step further and proven that he had possessed a strong will, one powerful enough to drive him to attempt to take her down at the cost of his own life.


    She knew that she was supposed to empathise, but she couldn¡¯t. There was no point in taking pity on the things she killed, especially not if they were barbarians. Purging them was but a part of the natural order. If she didn¡¯t take what she was offered, then she could only fail when it came time for her to use her strength¡ªtheir lives¡ªfor her own purposes. That was what her father had always taught her. And his mistreatment of her served as evidence for the exact point he argued. Duke Augustus had never been one for mercy. The doctrine of violence he perpetuated was one that put power above luxury, merit above justice, and war above peace. He saw no problem with taking whatever it was that he wanted¡ªher mother included. To him, she was loot, a crown jewel pillaged from a nation whose armies and people had been systematically deprived of the ability to resist.


    Log Entry 1278


    You have slain a level 21 Llystletein Caveveaber.


    Claire would likely have met the same fate had Cadria ever fallen. She couldn¡¯t fend for herself or stand her ground as a warrior. Not then, not now. She knew she would stand no chance against the knights in service to House Augustus. Even a fresh squire would have her on her back foot. A well-practiced apprentice was likely to have three optimally chosen combat classes to her two haphazard ones. And that alone was enough to make a world of difference, their towering levels only icing on the cake.


    Log Entry 1279


    You have slain a level 24 Frost Wolf.


    With the last beast finally dead, Claire flicked the blood off of her knife and turned towards a non-empty cell at the end of a long hall. Playing with her weapon as she approached, she looked upon the unconscious dwarf inside with an icy glare. Even without talking to him, she had already concluded that he was worthless. His presence within the lost library served to indicate that he was likely either a prisoner on death row, a knight with a foolish master, or a small-time hero, out to prove his worth and hubris. At the end of the day, it didn¡¯t matter what she did. He would fail to emerge from Llystletein, just like all the others. Slaying him herself would change nothing but the ultimate cause of his irrelevance and failure.


    ¡°Stop! Identify yourself!¡±


    A voice caused her head to snap to the left right as she was about to order Shoulderhorse to consume the lock. It caught her almost completely off guard; she had been too engrossed in her thoughts to hear any footsteps, and she had no idea when and how she had been spotted.


    Awaiting her at the end of the tunnel was an ascended borrok. It looked almost exactly the same as the first she encountered, but with larger muscles and a different set of equipment. Instead of a cloak, the bulkier rotblood had a loincloth, and instead of a staff, he had an axe and a sword, both raised and pointed towards the intruder.


    ¡°Are you the sentinel?¡±


    Claire reached for her mace as she stepped away from the cell. She didn¡¯t care so much for the question¡¯s answer as it did the time it would buy her. She needed a moment to decide between fight or flight.


    But the borrok was not willing to play along. He let out a series of high pitched, barely audible clicks as soon as her hand moved to her weapon. Almost immediately, she was made to realise that the sounds were orders. Feet of all shapes and sizes began hammering the ice above as warriors and mages swarmed the underground tunnels.


    ¡°Yes, I am.¡± Only when he was backed by an impossibly large mob did he finally answer the question. ¡°And you must be another one of Alfred¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± lied the halfbreed.


    She took a step away from the ascended warrior as she dismissed her horse and summoned her snake. Fleeing would have been her preferred choice, but it didn¡¯t seem possible. Though Shoudlerhorse was capable of digging a path out of the underground enclosure, she didn¡¯t think that she would be able to outrun him. His frame was no larger than hers; he¡¯d be able to squeeze into any tunnel she made. She would have to test the waters. If he was strong enough to break stone, then she would have no choice but to do battle, even with the frostblight eating away at her insides.


    ¡°You aren''t the first one he¡¯s sent to kill us,¡± said the bug monkey. ¡°It happens every time things finally start to change for the better.¡±


    Claire didn¡¯t interrupt him, opting instead to blatantly raise a brow and express false curiosity as she continued to assess the situation. She didn¡¯t know if the monkeys were adept at reading humanoid expressions, but if the look on her face didn¡¯t get the message across, her silence most certainly did.


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t understand. He treats us like disposable things. He made it possible for us to think, grow, and ascend just so we would be worth more experience. He doesn¡¯t care about individual lives because he can create them.¡±


    The borrok squeezed the words out in a raspy voice. They were weighed down by venom. Layers upon layers of venom. He was seething with rage, out of control of his emotions, and only half prepared for combat.


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    The perfect opportunity. Even if she wasn¡¯t in perfect form.


    ¡°So what?¡± Claire put on the most exaggerated overbearing smirk she could muster. ¡°Your experience is all you¡¯re worth to begin with.¡±


    His nostrils flared as he exposed his yellowed teeth and raised his trembling hands. ¡°How dare you?¡± He spoke again, each word accompanied by its own shallow breath.


    ¡°I¡¯ve already exterminated hundreds of you. It won¡¯t take me long to clean up the rest.¡±


    ¡°Kill her!¡±


    He leapt into action with a primal roar, charging at her with both weapons poised to strike. The borroks behind him followed suit and rushed her like the fools they were.


    Raising an arm, the halfbreed pulled one of the smaller insectoids forward and reeled it straight into her grasp. The arm-sized bug was abducted, grabbed by the thorax and turned into a piece of equipment. Claire parried the sentinel¡¯s sword with her mace as she raised her newly acquired shield and thrust it against the ascended borrok¡¯s axe. The weaker half-bug¡¯s defenses were worthless before the smelted iron edge. Its chitin yielded and crumpled, leaving the blade to cut all the way through it and into her hand.


    All according to plan.


    She went on the offensive before the rotblood could regain control of either weapon and paralyzed it with her eyes. Even with the gaze at full power, she was hardly able to stop it for anything beyond a fraction of a second. More than enough time to squeeze in a roundhouse kick to the gut.


    The borrok used the force of the blow to retreat to his side, but that too entailed playing into her hand. She moved so that she stayed opposite him and raised her uninjured arm. The magical shove that followed sent him flying into a cluster of icy bars. That alone wouldn¡¯t have staggered him for long, so she sent Shoudlersnake to chain the blow with a headbutt and a bite. The serpentine projectile was followed by a dive kick, one that landed smack in the middle of his chest before he could reorient himself or determine the cause of his newfound position. When his grip loosened, she grabbed ahold of his axe, smashed it straight into his belly, and backed off. Just in time for the dying borrok attached to the weapon to explode. It all happened so quickly that none of the others were even able to get close before their leader¡¯s insides were caught in a burst of blood, guts, and acid.


    The display left many a borrok dazed and confused. Some of them slowed and others backed off, with only a few particularly brave warriors still leading the charge. But with her increased speed, they were no match for her. Shouldersnake handled two on its own, while she slashed at the last with the sentinel¡¯s half-melted sword.


    When it died, after just a few swings, she used it as fodder to hurt their ascended leader, who groaned and clung to dear life until he was made the subject of another two gut-wrenching explosions, his own detonation following soon after.


    ¡°So much for not being able to get anything done.¡±


    The plan was a success, a perfect success that left her smirking in satisfaction. As much as she hated to admit it, she was starting to see why her father approached war the way he did. Playing a foe like a fiddle and forcing it to dance in the palm of her hands was nothing if not rewarding. She felt like a god atop the battlefield, an all-seeing embodiment of conquest and victory. And it had only happened because the sentinel was an intelligent being capable of thought and emotion.


    And that same capacity seemed to be precisely what fueled the borroks¡¯ next decision. A series of loud chirps and hoots later, they resumed their offensive, more fiercely than before. Individuals of all shapes, speeds, and skill levels attacked her with vigour, as if to seek vengeance for their fallen leader.


    They tried every tactic they could fathom. They attacked her with elite groups of warriors. They sniped at her from afar with powerful ice magic. They even swarmed her and weaponised their own corpses, sacrificing themselves mid-flight. But never did her health drop below a third of its maximum value. Because a swarm of borroks was precisely what she had hoped for. And a narrow corridor, where all the enemies were in front, was the exact environment she sought.


    She could fight off the warriors with her bare hands, evade incoming spells by dashing into the crowd, and magically displace any bombs that got too close. After a series of deaths and replacements, the borroks were joined by a horde of the corrupted, but they too proved incapable of turning the tides. Bats were crushed, wolves were strangled, watchers were stabbed, and bears were drained, vitality, mana, and all. Without a level-headed ascendant, they were doomed to fruitlessly struggle as she turned the underpass into a tunnel of death.


    At a glance, the borroks¡¯ continued assault looked to be an act of suicide. Each level she gained provided her with stamina anew, stamina she could use against them. But little by little, the endless wave began to take its toll. The amount of time that passed between each milestone grew, and with it followed the time it took for her vigour to be restored. Worse than the physical drain was the effect on her mental state. Her attentiveness was slipping. She was getting noticeably worse at dodging, and her fatality plummeted with every deadly flourish. It was a battle of attrition, and one measly Claire did not an army make.


    In failing to fight off the swarm that consisted almost entirely of creatures roughly half her level, the halfbreed was made to understand that the tales of heroism the bards so often sang described not noble fighters or divine apostles, but psychopaths, incomprehensibly deranged freaks capable of staying in perfect form through hordes of tens of thousands.


    The moment the halfbreed was finally hit by a spell, an icicle that pierced her straight through the gut, was the moment she decided that enough was enough. Throwing borroks into their allies wasn¡¯t cutting it anymore. They were failing to die en masse. Corrupted watchers and bears would step in and sacrifice themselves to put an immediate end to the chain of detonations. She needed a new strategy. So she abandoned the notion of close combat and replaced her serpent with her horse.


    As useless and vain as it might have seemed, Shoulderhorse was also a guardian spirit, an entity whose primary purpose was to serve her in combat. Like Shouldersnake, who could amplify its physical prowess and inject its targets with an endless supply of venom, the pony had exactly two abilities. One was to function as an invisible shield, an imperceptible aegis that could devour any inanimate entity. The other was to regurgitate anything it had consumed within the last 24 hours. All at once.


    And that was exactly what it did.


    The moment it was summoned, the four legged creature opened its mouth wide and ejected the contents of its stomach. Everything was mingled together. The ceramic shards, the bodies, and the lava had all melded into a single spherical mass of stuff, with magic the only exception. The spells she had consumed could not be preserved as they were. She lacked the understanding and mastery required to perform any feat beyond deconstruction. Not that it mattered. The sphere by its lonesome was already more than enough.


    So massive was the orb that it didn¡¯t fit within the prison¡¯s halls. It spanned more than the entire width and height of the corridor. But it moved at a breakneck pace nonetheless. The dirt and ice in its way did nothing to stop it. Flying forward like a cannonball, it crushed everything in its path, reducing many a creature to nothing but ketchup and mustard. Its weight and momentum carried it all the way through to the end of the corridor, where it burst into a thousand pieces upon coming in contact with the far wall. Never again would it be whole. Just like the hundreds of combatants it had flattened.


    There were still more of them. The city¡¯s inhabitants continued to stream into the passage from the hallways that lined it. But Claire had no interest in them. Even without looking at her log, she knew. She knew that she had finally killed enough. Power welled up from within, flooding her system with wave after wave of euphoria. It was time, and she couldn¡¯t wait.


    Using Shoulderhorse to eat the ice directly beneath her, Claire tunneled her way deep underground. She didn¡¯t stop descending until there were at least ten meters of rock overhead, a layer more than thick enough to stop any magic from reaching her.


    Once she was confident that her location was secure, she vomited out all of the material consumed in the tunnel¡¯s making and created a large chamber. Another smaller expansion was dug out on the other side, its material used to block off the entrance.


    Almost everything was ready. The only thing she had left to do was check her status.

 Chapter 62 — Gods and Illusions V

    Chapter 62 ¡ª Gods and Illusions V


    As excited as she was for her first ascension, Claire knew better than to surrender herself to her enthusiasm. Selecting a new racial class would play a key role in determining her future. It was a key decision not to be made in an irrational state of mind. More importantly, she had to address the matter of her vitality. The evolutionary process was only meant to take an instant, but there was no way to know for certain, and taking a few moments to remedy the issue was far better than winding up dead.


    Knowing that her log was sure to be flooded with an inordinate number of kills, the halfbreed decided to bite the bullet and pray to the extortionist that was the goddess. Even that choice came with its own set of difficulties. She had failed to acquire any new belongings during her previous killing spree. Weapons aside, she had nothing but a bag ruined by a melted candle and the clothes on her back. The only other thing she could think of was summoning one of Llystletein Authority¡¯s disgustingly magical dishes. The final option seemed like the most offensive and entertaining, but she didn¡¯t want to sit around while the magic went through the long and complicated process of turning itself into something edible. Twenty minutes wouldn¡¯t have been much to waste on a prank under any other set of circumstances, but it was far too long with her ascension right around the corner.


    Though proud of her appearance, Claire had no intention of showing the world her bare flesh, which was to say that the bag was the only option that remained. Taking it off and setting it down in front of her, she assumed the usual posture and closed her eyes.


    ¡°O goddess of the eternal flow, divine matriarch of water and time. I offer to you a vessel, and with it, the candle that has shown me my journey¡¯s path and two garments I have crafted from a watcher¡¯s pelt. I beseech that you accept my gift and bestow upon me an opportunity to leverage the full extent of the blessing that you have so graciously offered.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t uncommon for there to be a delay before a prayer was answered. The less one was liked by one¡¯s patron deity, the longer it would take, hence why Claire had suspected that the box would keep her waiting. But the goddess of the eternal flow responded immediately. The divine¡¯s monotone voice started to play in her mind before she even opened her eyes.


    Alert


    You have accrued a large number of log entries. These have been summarised below.


    You have slain the following:


    - 1 level 71 Borrok Rotblood


    - 10 level 35~47 Borrok Mages


    - 19 level 30~40 Corrupted Watchers


    - 22 level 32~49 Borrok Warriors


    - 41 level 14~20 Corrupted Barbearians


    - 45 level 22~27 Corrupted Frost Wolves


    - 72 level 8~17 Corrupted Lesser Vampire Pups


    - 129 level 16~34 Borroks


    The experience you have accumulated has resulted in the following level ups:


    - Halfbreed has leveled from 44 to 50


    - Llystletein Bloodthief has leveled from 50 to 53


    - Llystletein Force Mage has leveled from 33 to 40


    Level up bonuses have increased your ability scores by the following:


    - 20 spirit


    - 30 wisdom


    You have been awarded the following bonuses for reaching Halfbreed¡¯s 50th milestone:


    - 10 points in each ability score.


    - Halfbreed has qualified for evolution.


    You have gained a total of 82 ability points.


    The first thing Claire did, after noting the ability points she had gained, was invest six of them into vitality and bump its final value to 250. A wave of relief washed over her as soon as the transaction was completed. The aching in her chest calmed. It was still present, but the pain had dulled. It was nowhere near as bad as it was before.


    You have acquired the Axe Mastery skill.


    The proficiency that you have accumulated has resulted in the following skill level ups:


    - Assassinate has leveled from 9 to 11


    - Bloodthief has leveled from 7 to 9


    - Catgirl Detector V 0.17 has leveled from 3 to 14


    - Club Mastery has leveled from 10 to 11


    - Dancing has leveled from 6 to 7


    - Digging has leveled from 10 to 11


    - Envenom has leveled from 12 to 13


    - Force Manipulation has leveled from 9 to 13


    - Lashing Tailstrike has leveled from 2 to 3


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery has leveled from 14 to 16


    - Manathief has leveled from 6 to 9


    - Paralyzing Gaze has leveled from 4 to 6


    - Phantom Blade has leveled from 2 to 5


    - Sneaking has leveled from 12 to 14


    - Sword Mastery has leveled from 7 to 8


    - Throwing has leveled from 6 to 7


    - Tracking has leveled from 8 to 9


    - Unarmed Combat Mastery has leveled from 10 to 12


    Looking over the battle¡¯s boons reminded her of her awful behaviour throughout. A guilty wince crossed her face as she recalled that her mother had never been a fan of manipulation. If she were present¡ªif she were still alive¡ªshe would have no doubt been disappointed, disappointed that Claire really was her father¡¯s daughter.


    You have unlocked the following Halfbreed Evolutions


    - Arctic Rattletail


    - Frostblight Lyrkress


    - Icerunner Centaur


    - Icewinged Cervitaur


    - Hexapedal Frostviper


    - Lesser Ice Elemental


    - Rimeblood Gorgon


    Shaking her head free of self-loathing, Claire fixed her eyes on her potential evolutions. There were seven of them, seven different ways for her to ascend. Her heart raced as she traced her fingers over each one in succession. It wasn¡¯t until half a minute later that she finally realised she needed to examine them in more detail. The sheer excitement had left her mind frozen and dulled.


    The moment she tried opening up the details panel was the moment the world suddenly shifted. Her rocky surroundings were replaced by clouds, clear skies, and catgirls. After blinking a few times, so that her eyes could adjust to the light, she cast her gaze on the person standing in front of her.


    ¡°Good evening, Claire.¡±


    ¡°Good evening, Box.¡±


    In the blink of an eye, the halfbreed went from wearing her excitement on her sleeve to showing a sincere smile, a mask she knew the divine would have wanted to see. Her fakery was more than good enough to fool many a nobleman, but the heavenly entity didn¡¯t buy it. She knew Claire¡¯s tricks. She had watched the halfbreed develop her social facade throughout the earlier parts of her childhood. And, of course, she was not so easily tricked to begin with. None of the true gods were. In their eyes, a mortal¡¯s attempt at deception was just as fruitless and adorable as a puppy¡¯s.


    ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    ¡°I see that you are as dense as ever.¡± The goddess sighed. ¡°I am here to assist with the process of your ascension, as is per the tradition.¡±


    ¡°My word. How is it that you are still so bitter, after all these millennia?¡±


    Another voice, one that the halfbreed failed to recognize, rumbled throughout the heavenly domain. The cloud by its point of origin shook and warped as it took on the shape of a man. He was an older gentleman with short red hair featuring the occasional streak of white and a well-maintained beard that failed to crowd out his features. He was wearing a lightly coloured, long sleeved shirt underneath a dark grey vest that fit close to the lines of his frame, and a pitch black pair of pants that served to contrast his bright white belt. If not for the folded reptilian wings, his lizard-like eyes, and the chain-link tail sprouting from his rear, he almost would have looked vaguely human, like the other deity.


    ¡°Builledracht.¡± The goddess frowned at him, making no effort to hide her displeasure. ¡°Leave. You have no part in this rite.¡±


    ¡°Not to worry, dear. I have no intention of going back on my word. I am only here to observe.¡± He smiled as he walked over and seated himself atop a chair that didn¡¯t exist.


    ¡°Voyeurism is a disgusting habit.¡±


    ¡°Nobody is perfect.¡± Unbothered, he leaned forward and rested his shoulders on the invisible table in front of him. ¡°Carry on. You¡¯re free to pretend I don¡¯t exist.¡±


    The goddess gave him a bit of a glare before turning back to her subject and pointing to the space behind her. ¡°Now as I am certain that even you, Claire, will recall that it has come time for you to ascend.¡±


    Following the deity¡¯s finger, Claire turned around to find seven copies of herself standing atop a pedestal with roughly two meters between each. The one on the far right was the first to change. Her humanoid shape morphed and lengthened to take on a shape akin to that of her mother¡¯s, a purebred lamia with a rattle at the end of its tail.


    The one beside it had a similar outline, but was only half as long. What it lacked in size, it made up for with additional features, namely clawed, webbed hands suited for aquatic life and snakes in place of hair. Its face was changed, more monstrous, with blueish white scales covering everything beneath its nose and a thin tongue as long as an arm.


    Next to form was the one on the far left. Its height nearly doubled as its figure morphed, growing a muscular quadrupedal base. Giant feathered wings, spanning over four meters across, sprouted from its back. As a winged cervitaur, it retained her ears, but dropped all hints of scale; looking at it provided not even the slightest hint of her serpentine ancestry.


    Second to the left was a smaller and less imposing but equally four-legged frame. It was almost identical to that of a standard centaur¡¯s, but it had thicker hair and a much longer mane. The body double lifted its hoof when she looked at it, as if to show the spikes that lined its soles.


    Icy chest protrusions aside, the four outermost evolutions were more or less exactly what Claire had expected, her parents¡¯ forms, or perhaps forms they had discarded or rejected. Prior to his second ascension, her father had been a centaur, or more specifically, a cervitaur of the winged bull moose variety. Likewise, her mother had chosen a graceful rattletailed form over assuming the unique gorgonian one linked to her bloodline. The remaining three choices, on the other hand, had her thoroughly confused.


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    Smack dab in the middle of the line was a copy of her body made entirely of ice¡ªthe only one of the seven options that lacked a chest spike. Its translucency bothered her, but not because she was against the idea of being totally see-through. Her concern was the distinct lack of any organs. The elemental was a solid chunk of ice and nothing but.


    On its left was a form roughly halfway between her father¡¯s and her mother¡¯s. Its front half was perfectly centaur-like, sporting a muscular second chest and two powerful legs. If she were to name a difference, it would have to be the horse-like limbs that, for some odd reason, had fins attached right above the ankle. The body¡¯s rear end, however, took the centaur concept and threw it out the window. Its two-meter-tall frame thinned out into a scaly serpentine posterior with a pair of flippers along the sides and a mane-covered tail at the very end. Unlike most of the other choices, the lyrkress¡¯ humanoid part retained all her traits. Both the ears that her centaurian forms sported and the patches of scale that came with her reptilian options were present and accounted for.


    Opposite it was her final and most bizarre alternative, the only one to drop all her humanoid features. It was precisely what its name described, a viper, but with six girthy legs. The serpentine body was the longest of the bunch, with a frame that almost looked to span over ten meters in total. Like the other odd-option-out, it retained her massive ears. Even her hair was kept, to an extent. A long mane ran down the length of the snake¡¯s spine, as it would a horse¡¯s head. The legs that were its namesake were mostly centaurian, but they also reminded her of the gorgon situated right beside it. They featured webbed toes and thick jagged claws as sharp as freshly whetted knives.


    ¡°Why are they all ice-themed?¡±


    The question elicited a sigh from the goddess. ¡°Your memory pales in comparison to that of even a goldfish.¡± The raven-haired divine pointed at the item embedded in the halfbreed¡¯s chest. ¡°Have you already forgotten about the frostblight?¡±


    ¡°No, but I don¡¯t see why it would influence all my choices.¡±


    ¡°That is because you are a halfwit. The shard embedded within your chest is an elemental power source. There is no reason not to assimilate it, unless you would rather be both weaker and perpetually hounded by the frostblight.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ right. I forgot it was a catalyst.¡±


    ¡°It is not a catalyst. It is an elemental power source. It can be used as would a catalyst, but they are not the same.¡±


    Claire shrugged as she turned back towards her options. The first she looked at was the one that was a literal snake. It was the one that stood out the most, given that it changed almost everything.


    ¡°A hexapedal frostviper is a powerful being,¡± said the goddess, in a way that was equal parts familiar and off-putting. ¡°They are powerful, but losing the humanoid aspect of your form will affect your mental faculties. You are not ready for this sort of ascension. You will be, but not yet. Not now.¡±


    Hearing the goddess¡¯ testimony almost led Claire to instantly lock in her choice without so much as reading a description, but the hand gently laid on her shoulder stopped her from following through on the impulse. Something in the back of her mind was bugging her, and it took her a moment to realise that it was the goddess¡¯ brighter-than-usual tone.


    ¡°I will show you its description, and I will allow you to select it if you must. But it is not the right one.¡±


    ¡°I still want to see it.¡±


    ¡°Would you like the usual? Or would you prefer a description that contains¡­ less personality?¡±


    ¡°The usual,¡± said Claire, with a smile. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯d feel right to read something with no snark in it, after all this time.¡±


    The deity returned the smile, but said nothing more. She did, however, compose a box with the wave of a hand, one with its borders made of gold.


    Hexapedal Frostviper


    Legged vipers are swift, deadly ambush hunters that hardly ever leave their homes. They are particularly skilled at eliminating unsuspecting passersby, but their thick scales and powerful muscles provide them with the ability to triumph even in unplanned upfront engagements. Imbued with the power of true ice, the frostviper variant is capable of thriving in biomes that others can only consider hostile. Members of this race are plagued with the instinctive tendency to build their homes in extreme environments. Individuals that do not think themselves capable of ever being touched by the opposite gender will find this racial class particularly potent.


    Becoming a Legged Frostviper will reclassify you from humanoid to monster. This change will affect you mentally, and you will grow more aggressive and impulsive. Legged Frostviper¡¯s maximum level is 300. The process of reaching this level will determine the resulting evolutionary options. Legged Frostviper will gain bonuses upon reaching its 175th and 300th levels.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Descend from a line with equine ancestry


    - Descend from a line with serpentine ancestry


    - Initiate your first ascension under the effects of true ice


    - Slay at least two ascended monsters prior to your first ascension


    - Think and fight as would a true monster, despite possessing a humanoid form


    After reading the class over, Claire did as the goddess instructed and dismissed it. Becoming a snake monster seemed like an interesting proposition, but her interest failed to extend beyond idle curiosity. Even if hexapedal frostvipers were powerful, she was unwilling to become something that simply wasn¡¯t her. It violated her aesthetic, her sense of identity.


    That thought was one that also ruled out several of the other options. The pure lamia and pure centaur classes were both lacking the physical traits she desired. If she was to remain a humanoid, she wanted to keep her ears and her scales. Both contributed heavily to the identity she had in mind. Claire had always been proud of how large and shapely her fluffiest organs were, and she loved the way her scales felt to the touch. She had no intention of losing either.


    Taking her eyes off the box and turning back towards her pedestal where her potential forms were on display, she found that the only two options she had yet to outright reject were the only ones that remained. She was a bit annoyed that she didn¡¯t even have to voice her dismissal for it to be known, but didn¡¯t complain. There was nothing wrong with convenience, after all.


    ¡°What about this one?¡± asked Claire, as she looked at the frozen statue that looked just like her. ¡°Is becoming an elemental different from becoming a monster?¡±


    ¡°See and judge for yourself.¡± Again, the goddess did something with her hands and created a menu for Claire to inspect. ¡°I admit that leaving it to you may be a rather poor choice, given your distinct lack of intellect, but it is your will that will shape your destiny, not mine.¡±


    ¡°I know I just said that I was okay with the box being snarky again, but did you really have to go ahead and start doing it too? I like you better when you¡¯re not snapping at me.¡±


    ¡°The fault lies with your preference, not my behaviour.¡±


    Lesser Ice Elemental


    Elementals are vulgar spiritual life forms composed primarily of magical energy. They excel at the application and use of magic and possess the innate ability to manipulate their elements as naturally as a physical lifeform would its limbs. This racial class is synonymous with vanity. Individuals that take great pride in their appearance, particularly those that practice exhibitionism, are well suited for this class.


    Becoming a Lesser Ice Elemental will reclassify you from a humanoid to a spirit. Your mental state will not be affected by this change. Lesser Ice Elemental¡¯s maximum level is 250, at which point you will ascend into an Ice Elemental. Lesser Ice Elemental will gain additional bonuses upon reaching its 150th and 250th levels.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Absorb the essence of a spiritual entity


    - Initiate your first ascension under the direct influence of an ice-aligned elemental power source


    Claire frowned as she finished reading the class over. It was, in a word, unassuming. All the description really seemed to say was that choosing it would make her a decent ice mage. And while she did have to admit that ice magic seemed rather potent, based on her experiences over the past couple of days, she had very little interest in becoming reliant on it.


    Lesser ice elemental¡¯s biggest problem seemed to be a clear lack of synergy. Throwing pure casting into her approach to combat would be difficult at best. More importantly, the halfbreed had her doubts about the class¡¯ second ascension. She didn¡¯t like the idea of committing to something so far in advance. Assuming she ever got there to begin with.


    ¡°Can I see the last one?¡±


    Without a word, snarky or kind, the goddess snapped her fingers and made it happen.


    Frostblight Lyrkress


    Half aquatic reptile, half terrestrial quadruped, lyrkresses are rare perversions of the natural order capable of conquering land and sea alike. Lyrkress flesh is malleable and individuals of this species are capable of adjusting their forms. The frostblighted variety of this class has evolved a moderate resistance to thermodynamic change alongside a notable proficiency in ice-based magic. Sexual deviants capable of developing affection for individuals outside of their own species groups tend to prefer this class.


    Frostblight Lyrkress¡¯ maximum level is 250. This racial class¡¯ evolutions are currently unknown. Frostblight Lyrkress will gain additional bonuses upon reaching its 150th and 250th levels.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Descend from a line with equine ancestry


    - Descend from a line with serpentine ancestry


    - Slay an ascended individual prior to your first ascension


    - Acquire and mitigate the effects of frostblight as a result of direct contact with true ice


    P.S. Please be aware that, while it is necessary to create the halfbreed prerequisite for this class, zoophilia is unwise and ill-advised.


    ¡°I think this one is the best.¡±


    The halfbreed preferred versatility to commitment, and the lyrkress class had it in spades. As far as she could tell, it took strengths from both of the other classes without any explicit weaknesses. The ability to morph her body also seemed like a plus, but she wasn¡¯t pinning too many of her hopes on it. There was no telling how potent it would be from the description alone.


    ¡°Is it your final decision?¡±


    Claire nodded¡ª


    ¡°Then a frostblight lyrkress you will be.¡±


    ¡ªand in doing so, vanished from the divine realm.


    With the only mortal gone, the unbeholden landscape reverted to its default state, a sea of stars with a small, twelve planet solar system occupying the foreground. Within the abyss, the two gods remained, with one sitting atop a planet with his arms resting on its ring, and the other standing atop one of the greenest globe¡¯s seventeen moons.


    ¡°Explain yourself, Builledracht.¡± The goddess turned to the well-dressed man. ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    ¡°I had no choice but to attend. I know I¡¯ve relinquished control, but I am still her patron, if technicalities are to be observed.¡±


    The female deity grimaced.


    ¡°Why hasn¡¯t she sworn to you yet? She seemed to trust you enough, more than me at least.¡±


    ¡°...name.¡± The goddess responded in a voice too quiet to hear.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry dear, I didn¡¯t quite catch that.¡±


    ¡°I said she doesn¡¯t know my name!¡±


    For a moment, there was nothing but silence as the older gentleman stared at the flustered young goddess.


    Exactly one third of a millisecond later, the seemingly infinite moment came to an end. Laughter echoed throughout the heavens, shaking all seven hospitable realms and nearly destroying the five no longer conducive to life.


    The day of their encounter was one that the curse god¡¯s priests would mark as a day to be feared. For they had all heard his cackling, echoing through all their minds at once. None would ever learn the true reason the old one had suddenly split his sides. And though he had almost no hand in the misfortunes and horrors soon to follow, his hysterical fit would be cited by many a scholar and historian as the beginning of The Great Collapse.

 Chapter 63 — Gods and Illusions VI

    Chapter 63 ¡ª Gods and Illusions VI


    Claire furrowed her brow as the heavens gave way to a dark, gloomy cave, its only light source the one embedded in her chest. The environmental shift left her head spinning. Something about her surroundings was throwing her for a loop but her eyes were too unfocused for her to figure out what it was.


    Log Entry 1673


    Your ascension is complete. You have become a Frostblight Lyrkress.


    Your eyesight has been greatly enhanced.


    The efficiency of your ability scores has been increased.


    The goddess¡¯ voice rang throughout her mind as her vision sharpened to a degree she could only describe as excessive. She could see everything in detail. Too much detail. The tiny cracks in each rock, the pores in her skin, and the individual strands of hair that now covered her legs worked together to overload her senses. Even the ground added to her malaise. It was too far away. It felt like she was in the air even though she could feel the hardened rock against her now hooved feet.


    The effects of Frostblight have been partially negated. It will no longer actively damage you, but all healing effects have been halved.


    You have acquired the following skills:


    - Ice Manipulation


    - Lyrkrian Shapeshifting


    - Thermodynamic Regulation


    The Basic Fire Resistance skill has been assimilated into Thermodynamic Regulation. This assimilation has earned you a proficiency bonus.


    The Lashing Tailstrike and Quadrupedal Bloodrush skills have been assimilated into Unarmed Combat Mastery. This assimilation has earned you a proficiency bonus.


    Unarmed Combat Mastery has failed to evolve into Lyrkrian Martial Arts. Not all requirements were met.


    Log Entry 1674


    Achievement Unlocked - Ascension


    You have taken the first step to immortality. Do not dawdle or grow complacent. Many more await.


    None of the abilities she had gained were unexpected. The class¡¯ description had highlighted all three of them as notable traits. If there was anything that caught her off guard, it was the lack of change. Common sense dictated that a racial class¡¯ evolution was meant to come with a significant increase in power; Claire had expected more than just three boring skills with relatively unimpressive names. Thinking that there was little excitement to be had, the freshly transformed lyrkrian decided to start by reading the blandest of the three acquisitions, just to get it out of the way.


    Thermodynamic Regulation - Level 2


    Some individuals are well learned and capable of reciting complicated systems with little beyond their memories to aid them. You, on the other hand, find it difficult to recall if a lit match is meant to be hotter than a ball of snow. This lack of understanding stems in part from your lackluster mental faculties and in part because neither will bring you any discomfort. Your body has adapted such that it is unaffected by changes in temperature, so long as they do not fall within the realm of the extreme.


    Effects


    - You are highly resistant to heat and cold.


    - You are able to influence the temperature of your surroundings by radiating either a warm or frigid aura.


    Is it just me, or is this skill very unspecific? Aren''t there supposed to be numbers? Though not entirely satisfied with the Goddess¡¯ sloppier-than-usual handiwork, Claire found the skill itself more versatile than expected, albeit not in a way that seemed even the slightest bit useful. She didn¡¯t see a purpose in turning herself into a portable fireplace or ice room.


    Ice Manipulation - Level 1


    Some individuals are destined for greatness. Others are destined to become portable ice rooms. Accept your fate. There is no changing it.


    Shut up, Box. Stop reading my mind. And at least describe the skill next time!


    Effects


    - You are capable of exerting some degree of control on the element of ice.


    - The power of your ice magic is increased by 10% (0% + 10% per level) of the sum of your wisdom and spirit, expressed as a percentage.


    Spells


    - Icebolt


    - Freeze Toilet


    The spell list left the halfbreed blinking in confusion. She tried rubbing her eyes, massaging her temples, and cleaning out her ears, but for some odd reason, the list refused to change. Icebolt and Freeze Toilet remained the only two spells available, and neither was even remotely close to impressive. Bolt spells were the most basic hexes there were, and every single one of them was identical. They would create a small projectile that would fly at the mage¡¯s target and apply an elemental effect. Freeze Toilet was equally as uninteresting, with its description only serving to validate that it was flat out useless. It was a short-ranged spell that would allow her to target and freeze any and all toilets in a scaling radius that started at a paltry two meters. Anything that happened to be touching one of the aforementioned toilets would also be frozen. Not that it mattered. At that range, an Icebolt would prove just as effective.


    Why doesn¡¯t force magic have any bolt spells? Claire contemplated the question for a bit, but she was unable to come up with any working theories, so she soon moved on and turned her eyes on her final new skill.


    Lyrkrian Shapeshifting - Level 1


    The transformation of one¡¯s body is typically a process that requires a momentous amount of effort. You have, time and time again, demonstrated that you do not understand the concept of effort. Under normal circumstances, your lethargy would be conducive to failure, but as a lyrkress, it matters very little. You are capable of altering your body as you see fit.


    Effects


    - You may freely adjust the extent to which different parts of your lyrkrian form are presented as observable characteristics


    - 15% (10% + 5% per level) of your body can be transformed per second


    The description itself didn¡¯t provide many notable details, but that wasn¡¯t a problem. Reading through it provided an intuitive understanding of how the ability was meant to work¡ªtransforming had already become another one of her body¡¯s standard functions.


    Clenching and unclenching her fists, she decided to give herself a more detailed once over before giving the skill a shot. She started by turning around and looking towards the far end of her elongated frame. Her tail¡¯s tip was surprisingly fluffy, covered in a mix of scale and feather-like fur. She couldn¡¯t help but enjoy the sensation that was produced when it brushed up against itself. Equally as pleasant and peculiar was the feeling of her lower half against the ground. It felt sort of like she was crawling, just without her limbs doing any of the work, not that her snakier-bits had any real limbs to work with. Technically, she had a pair of flippers situated right where her rear legs would have been had she been a full fledged cervitaur. But as far as Claire was concerned, they didn¡¯t count. The marine mobility tools were useless on land. They were only about as long as her forearms and less than half as muscular.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    By contrast, the tail that was her torso was massive, making up well over two thirds of her body by weight. The whole appendage was wrapped in a thick coat of scale, more rigid and durable than the lamella that had covered bits and pieces of her body. The larger scales intruding on her cheeks were the only ones whose size they failed to exceed.


    At the front of her frame stood a pair of unfamiliar legs. They were roughly the same width as her old ones, but somehow felt more robust. She thought it a bit strange that her toes had been replaced by hooves and fins, but the sensation only lasted until she took her first hesitant step forward. The body¡ªher body¡ªresponded in a way that was strangely natural. The forelimbs helped her with her balance, but she had no trouble remaining stable even when she reared them. Her snake half kept her anchored in place.


    With her more monster-like parts fully inspected, Claire moved on to checking her upper body. It was almost completely unchanged, with the only difference she noticed being a slight increase in the number of scales. The part where her waist met her lower chest was surprisingly well integrated. It wasn¡¯t exactly seamless, as there was certainly a point where her beast-like features seemed to suddenly take over, but neither was it egregious. The transition was smooth enough for her to find it aesthetically pleasing.


    The only problem was the true ice shard, which was still stuck in her upper chest. Its base was located right where her arms would intersect were she to cross them, a perfect, mocking location. Though she still found it somewhat of an annoyance, the halfbreed recognized that the ascension had turned the so-called power source into a part of her body. She didn¡¯t know exactly how it worked, but she could feel when something was touching it, and she could even channel her mana through it in the same manner she would an arm or a leg.


    Shrugging off her dissatisfaction, the lyrkress put her shapeshifting skill to work. The first thing she did was grow her fins out. With a little bit of straining, she was able to turn them into fully functional legs, capable of lifting her rear off the ground. With that confirmed, she quickly moved on to testing the exact opposite and sucked both sets of legs back into her body. To her surprise, she was able to turn herself into what was effectively a true lamia with only a bit of effort; a casual thought and a moment of concentration was all she needed to outright disable every horsier feature she had.


    It was like she had a pair of levers in her head, one representing the expression of her cervitaurian traits, and another for her lamian ones. She could tweak them without much difficulty, but continuing to keep them in their altered positions tired her. It was like she was being made to hold a series of weighted objects; the longer she kept it up, the more difficult it became. The changes available to her were so drastic that she could even take on the humanoid form she had possessed as a halfbreed, albeit for no more than a few minutes at a time.


    Log Entry 1675


    Lyrkrian Shapeshifting has reached level 2.


    After a bit of playing around, the lyrkress reverted her appearance to its default. The shapeshifting skill was certainly one that would see plenty of use, but she decided to shelve it for the time being. There wasn¡¯t enough space in the underground compartment for her to run any real experiments. Mastering all the different variations seemed mind-numbing to say the least, but that was precisely why she wanted to do it. She was sure to be at an advantage if the monsters and people she fought were unaware of all the tools at her disposal.


    Thinking of combat reminded Claire that she had abandoned a battle in order to ascend. As a whole, the process hadn¡¯t exactly been instantaneous, given all her deliberation and testing, but it also hadn¡¯t taken very long. There was no doubt that the borroks would still be around, and she had every intention of jumping back into the fray. The bug-monkeys, their friends, and their variants would make for the perfect training dummies.


    Plan in mind, Claire summoned Shoulderhorse, who had for some odd reason been dismissed during the evolutionary process, and ordered it to consume the boulder that cut her off from the borroks above. It didn¡¯t look like she was going to be able to make her way back up the hole with her newfound size, but a quick application of lyrkrian shapeshifting solved the problem in a heartbeat. She was able to slither right back up through her escape route by removing all her centaurian parts. Ears aside, of course. Aesthetics were important, after all.


    After making it halfway up, she realised that there were two corrupted wolves sitting by the entrance. The pair started barking and howling as she neared, but she didn¡¯t mind. If anything, she was more than happy to have them alert their allies.


    The rogue extended her fingers and ramped up her speed as she burst through the ice, reverted to her true form, and reached for the wolves¡¯ necks. Her intention had been to choke the furry duo, but upon squeezing, she soon found their spines snapped in her hands. The force of her grip had crushed their backbones to tiny broken bits.


    Log Entry 1676


    You have slain a level 24 Corrupted Frost Wolf.


    Log Entry 1677


    You have slain a level 27 Corrupted Frost Wolf.


    It was only then that Claire was finally starting to understand why an ascension mattered as much as it did. She had only gained 10 strength, courtesy of the Halfbreed class finally reaching its maximum level, but she was more than twice as strong. Throwing a wolf into the wall was enough to cause a bloody explosion and kicking a warrior nearly triggered another. The borrok¡¯s ribs were completely obliterated by the attack. Its chest was sunken in, unable to support any of its weight, and its insides were leaking from the gaps in its pelt. If not for its absurd vitality, the monster would have died in a heartbeat. Not that it made a difference. The beast was dead either way. A second attack, a flipper slap, smashed its head and caused it to detonate.


    Log Entry 1678


    You have slain a level 43 Borrok Warrior.


    It was easy. Too easy. She had been able to take down warriors without much difficulty even before her ascension, but now, it was a cakewalk. It was almost like the difficulty she had previously experienced was nothing but a lie.


    Claire was proud of her progress, but also a bit annoyed, annoyed that even the warriors were dropping like flies. Fortunately, the lyrkress had a thousand punching bags lined up in front of her. Perfect for venting all her undue stress.


    ___


    Claire


    Health: 2015/2015


    Mana: 3235/3245


    Health Regen: 500/hour (1000/hour)


    Mana Regen: 1984/hour


    Ability Scores - 76 Points Available


    - Agility: 314


    - Dexterity: 280


    - Spirit: 246


    - Strength: 225


    - Vitality: 250


    - Wisdom: 496


    Racial Class: Frostblight Lyrkress - Level 50.01


    - Paralyzing Gaze - Level 6.51


    - Ice Manipulation - Level 1.31


    - Lyrkrian Shapeshifting - Level 2.73


    - Thermodynamic Regulation - Level 2.50


    Primary Class: Llystletein Bloodthief - Level 53.37


    - Assassinate - Level 11.36


    - Bloodthief - Level 9.74


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 8.73


    - Envenom - Level 13.08


    - Manathief - Level 9.11


    - Phantom Blade - Level 5.79


    Secondary Class: Llystletein Force Mage - Level 40.65


    - Basic Force Resistance - Level 3.57


    - Catgirl Detector V. 0.17 - Level 14.04


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 12.73


    - Force Manipulation - Level 13.16


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 2.00


    - Axe Mastery - Level 1.04


    - Club Mastery - Level 11.32


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 11.26


    - Dancing - Level 7.34


    - Digging - Level 11.92


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 5.24


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 16.82


    - Marish - Level 19.05


    - Sewing - Level 1.42


    - Sneaking - Level 14.18


    - Spear Mastery - Level 5.46


    - Sword Mastery - Level 8.38


    - Throwing - Level 7.23


    - Tracking - Level 9.61


    - Unarmed Combat Mastery - Level 13.43

 Chapter 64 — Gods and Illusions VII

    Chapter 64 ¡ª Gods and Illusions VII


    Claire¡¯s attempt to turn Borrok Peak into a stress-relieving squeeze toy ended in abject failure. Having realised that their attempt at a battle of attrition had only resulted in a stronger, faster halfbreed, the borroks quickly transformed their blind advance into a swift retreat. Fighters of all shapes and sizes turned tail and ran, scattering to the winds like fickle, fall leaves. The lyrkress had managed to run down a few dozen of them before they left the prison¡¯s halls, but they dispersed so effectively upon returning to the surface that she had no choice but to give up on pursuing them. They had run in every single direction. Some even stopped short to hole themselves up in the city¡¯s various buildings. They were free pickings, but ultimately a waste of time.


    Glancing at her status, she noted that she had barely gained any experience since her ascension. There was not a single level between any of her classes; even Force Mage had failed to reach its next milestone. Thinking about it, Claire had to begrudgingly admit that the slowdown made a lot of sense. Her ascension had drastically raised her power level and the half-insects were no longer a threat, even as a seemingly infinite horde. But that didn¡¯t mean she wasn¡¯t annoyed. The combination of the borroks¡¯ newfound frailty, their sudden flight, and the lack of any notable experience left the halfbreed grinding her teeth and thwacking her tail against the ground.


    The irritation only lasted until she realised that her body was already responding to her emotions. The dysphoria that had stemmed from suddenly being put in a frame one and a half times as tall and more than ten times as massive had stopped plaguing her by the time she got her first few kills. There was still a bit of a sense of unfamiliarity in that she wasn¡¯t quite used to using all of her newest body parts, but going on a killing spree had at least helped. Had she not lost them in the transformation, Claire was sure that Quadrupedal Bloodrush and Lashing Tailstrike would have gained a level apiece.


    Though she was now short a few racial skills, the halfbreed was happy with the way her ascension had turned out. She didn¡¯t have any peers to compare with, but she remained fairly confident that she had chosen one of the best options available. At the very least, she thought her choice more impressive than both the ascended borroks. The difference between a lyrkress and a halfbreed was far greater than the difference between a rotblood and a warrior.


    Thinking of the ascended Borroks lead the lyrkress to turn her eyes back to the arena¡¯s underground facility. There were still a number of prisoners locked away, but she had no intention of heading back inside to free them, in part because they were already being helped by the other inmates, and in part because their gratitude left her with an empty sense of guilt. Some of them had already poked their heads out of the prison to thank her. Even though she had seen them as nothing but experience.


    Now that she was no longer blinded by an imminent ascension, Claire had come to realise that her behaviour was disgustingly inappropriate. She was anything but the gentle soul her mother had wanted her to become. Not even Cadrian knights killed indiscriminately. Lest they were commanded by Duke Augustus, of course.


    Wincing, Claire slowly shook her head and set her sights on the city¡¯s most prominent landmark¡ªthe pyramid that served as the volcano¡¯s highest peak. The massive triangular building was only a hop, a skip, and a jump away from the arena. Given that there were still over sixty hours left on the clock, Claire decided on leisurely strolling her way over. She doubted that killing another rotblood would require any measurable amount of time¡ªnot that she was expecting just one. Alfred had only tasked her with killing ¡®The Sentinel¡¯ and ¡®The Lifegiver,¡¯ but there were clearly others, with the basement dwelling spell-caster serving as a blatant example.


    The halfbreed¡¯s walk went uninterrupted. Any of the locals that spotted her turned tail and ran without even the slightest semblance of aggression. Even the pyramid¡¯s guards¡ªa group of warriors and mages¡ªfled on sight. Half of them ran inside, while the other half made a mad dash for their surroundings. One particularly confused individual even ran right past her. It was a silly move that should have served as a death sentence, but Claire cared too little to deliver.


    Slowly raising her head, the half-lamia cast her gaze upon the massive structure she was set to enter. It was, in a word, unfitting. Unlike the bland, uninspired arena, the pyramid didn¡¯t look like it belonged. It was too complex, too finely crafted for it to be the work of the incompetent architects that had put the rest of the city together. For one, the walls were smooth, thick, and opaque. The materials used in their construction were unlike any other seen throughout the city. They were perfectly straight with no visible defects; there wasn¡¯t a single crack or uneven surface, no matter where she looked. Even the door was seamless. It was a rectangular opening with a frame devoid of the blemishes that should have come with its construction. Inscribed near the top of the triangular tower was an epitaph of a horned whale, glowing in an icy blue, the only decoration on an otherwise clean canvas.


    Looking inside the doorway, the rogue noted a distinct lack of everything. She could still hear the borroks that had fled, but they were nowhere to be seen. The building was empty, completely devoid of both fittings and life. Primitive murals aside, it featured nothing but a flight of spiraling stairs. Claire gazed upon them as her hooves echoed throughout the crystalline building. They featured depictions of beasts and battles, etched right into the structure¡¯s walls. The blood-iron stains were almost like a sort of taint, a malady that the otherwise pure blue barriers were being forced to suffer.


    They extended far past the ground level, crawling up the sides of the pyramid like vines. Each thread was its own story. The details differed between the individual biographies, but they all followed the same rough structure. They would always begin with a man casting a spell on a borrok. That borrok would go on to accomplish many great things before evolving into a rotblood after a series of tough battles. But no matter how heroic each protagonist seemed, there would always come a wall they could not surmount. Every tale was met with the same ending, an untimely death in a pool of borrokian blood.


    Only halfway up the pyramid did the last story thread run dry. Not that Claire was paying it any attention. Her mind was elsewhere, in part because she had no interest in borrokian history, and in part because she was preoccupied with something more important.


    Her surroundings were flooded with conflicting forces. The space around her felt like it was warped, distorted by a greater power. Gravity was pulling on her, both from above and from below. It was like she was in the marsh during a turn. Something was manipulating her position, but she couldn¡¯t quite put a finger on what, even though it was making her feel like she was in three different places, all at once.


    The environment outside was revealed to her as the walls rapidly thinned, as the icy layers lost the ability to obscure the beholder¡¯s gaze. In one eye, she saw what she expected, a snowy mountain, illuminated by moonlight. But in the other, there was a clear blue sky with daylight streaming in from an invisible source.


    Log Entry 1753


    Detect Force Magic has reached level 13.


    Looking down, she found both the icy city and a large rectangular plot of dirt floating within an endless sky. The muddy shape came hand in hand with a massive horn, directly beneath her feet. Following the curved structure with her eyes led Claire to the realisation that she was seeing Mirewood Meadow from within the construct that loomed over it. Looking more carefully, intently, she spotted a series of birds, flapping their wings as they flew about within the brighter dimension. The further she climbed, the clearer they became. Some even flew over to the horn¡¯s exterior and stared at her from beyond the icy walls. One feathered avian, a half-mechanical raven, rammed the building as soon as it spotted her. Its attacks never ended in anything but failure, but it kept trying until its beak started to bleed, at which point it squawked at her and boosted away.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    An additional layer of peculiarity was added to the mess of realms and forces as Claire neared the top of the staircase. Phantoms started to appear in her peripherals, vague centaurian outlines whose shapes grew more vivid and defined as she continued to rise. The first to form was Durham, watching over her with his usual lecherous but fiercely protective glare.


    Next was Sir Rydland, judging and cynical as always. He stood before the manor¡¯s guard detail, the trained warriors whose names she couldn¡¯t be bothered to recite. They were followed by their apprentices, young lads and lasses whose hopeful gazes knew not of the horrors of war. She had seen many of them change over the years. Some embraced the Cadrian way and became veterans in their own rite, while others retired to their hometowns, unable to cope with the harsh realities and immoralities of war.


    The servants started appearing before her once there were only a few dozen steps left. They would emerge exactly as she remembered them, but deteriorated with every step. Their skin would be cut, their fur would be shredded, and their limbs would be broken. One of her personal maids, Marie, even lost half her lower body. Claire tried to avert her gaze, but the phantom followed. It stared at her with its dominant arm in a sling, its eyes hollow, and a bloody bandage covering half its face.


    The malicious hallucinations were clearly the work of magic, an obvious attack on her psyche, perhaps even magic that worked directly on the mind. But the force mage¡¯s awareness did nothing to help her shut it out. The servants¡¯ voices called her name, one after another, their ghastly whispers spoken with raspy, broken throats.


    It took a long pause for the halfbreed to steady her quickened breath. She had seen and inflicted a countless number of injuries over the past week, many far more brutal than the ones that the projections depicted. But throwing people she knew into the mix changed everything. She had to close her eyes. Seeing them bothered her. Because cursed wounds didn¡¯t fade. And if the injuries were real, they would have been her fault. The ritual was one meant to plague an entire army; the backlash that resulted from its premature dissolution was sure to be just as widespread and unconstrained.


    Gritting her teeth, Claire forced her eyes open and resumed her journey up the stairwell. The ghosts continued to haunt her as she advanced, but she ignored them. She pushed their manifestations away with magic and cast their comments aside, shelving them in one of her mind¡¯s furthest corners.


    The approach was solid. Until she reached the end of the climb. What awaited her at the top of the staircase was a room that wasn¡¯t a room. It was both the pyramid¡¯s tip and the open space that was the horn¡¯s furthest extremity. Mirewood Meadow seemed to be the more dominant of the two domains. The pyramid¡¯s icy walls were faint, barely visible even beneath the now brightly lit backdrop. At the far end of the horn, the very tip, there was another hexstone.


    With a former Bloodwinged Darkhorn standing in front of it.


    She knew it was fake, that it wasn¡¯t him.


    But that didn¡¯t stop her from trembling, falling to her knees, or gasping for air.


    I thought I was over this. The thought passed through her mind as she continued to look upon her father¡¯s image. The four-meter tall, white-furred behemoth was Cadria¡¯s most fearsome man. Both in his enemies¡¯ eyes, and in his daughter¡¯s.


    She tried to force herself to her feet, to move as he approached, but she couldn¡¯t. The only part of her that accelerated was her heart.


    She could feel it threatening to burst from her chest.


    Somehow, he terrified her. More than any of her recent near-death experiences. More than a celestial that was obviously trying to manipulate her. More than the god of curses, showing up unannounced.


    Even though he was just a projection, an obvious, illusory copy of the man that had dictated all sixteen of her years.


    If not for Shoulderhorse taking autonomous action and consuming the spell, she would have remained paralysed. Despite knowing that there was a borrok standing behind the phantom. Slowly approaching with a katar in each hand.


    Still panting, she rose to her feet, all her mammalian parts dripping with cold sweat. She raised a hand towards the borrok. The limb was still trembling, shaking as would a teapot in an earthquake, but her magic remained steady. Apply force sent him flying into the hexstone to his rear.


    Claire nearly tripped as she ran up to him and kicked him, over and over. Each attack was accompanied by a feral scream, a display of the frustration that had come as a result of her own ineptitude. A display of the fear that she couldn¡¯t keep bottled inside.


    Only after a dozen strikes did she finally back away. Surprisingly, the horn and the hexstone were both undamaged. The borrok had borne the brunt of the attack. And somehow, it was still alive, even with its skull pulverised by her hooves and its brain leaking out from within.


    ¡°It looks like you enjoyed my spell.¡± He smiled at her with his disgusting broken jaw as he raised a bejeweled blade and summoned another apparition.


    Claire felt her stomach lurch, but she didn¡¯t collapse a second time. Digging her fangs into her lips, she charged straight at the projection with every intention of passing through it and attacking the borrok that was its master, only to discover that the spell was one with substance. And it weighed every bit as much as the duke himself, barely budging as the two made contact.


    The only part of her that tore through the illusion was the glacial spike embedded in her chest. And tear it did. It ripped through the phantom¡¯s lower half as she fell over, destroying the spell outright.


    Though confused and disoriented, the halfbreed was able to recover from her failure. She pulled the borrok towards her with one hand while swinging her mace with the other. The result was a series of sickening cracks. She broke the borrok¡¯s spine with her first swing and got its arms with her next two.


    A fourth and final hit ended the creature¡¯s life, prompting it to swell and detonate as did all others of its kind. Throwing it off the side of the horn, Claire sat down and breathed a sigh of relief. She was far from calm, but at the very least, she was doing better than she was before. Her heart was only beating a little faster than usual and her breath was starting to return.


    But she was still annoyed, sick to her stomach.


    At him, and at herself.


    ¡°So much for being free. I can¡¯t even face him when I know he¡¯s not real.¡± The force mage placed a hand on her face and massaged her nose as she fought back a sniffle. ¡°How am I supposed to prove anything like this?¡±


    Log Entry 1754


    You have slain a level 63 Borrok Rotblood.


    ¡°Maybe he was right.¡±


    Log Entry 1755


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Force Mage, has reached level 41.


    You have gained 6 ability points.


    ¡°Maybe I really am worthless.¡±


    Log Entry 1756


    Makeshift Weapon Mastery has reached level 17.


    Rubbing her eyes with her cloak, Claire turned her gaze on both horizons and stared off into the distance as she absentmindedly listened to everything the goddess had to say.


    Log Entry 1757


    Unarmed Combat Mastery has reached level 14.


    Log Entry 1758


    You have completed ¡°Destroy Borrok Peak.¡±


    You have been awarded 60 of each ability score.


    The following bonus objectives will remain active for the next 62 hours:


    - Borrok Peak is vandalised beyond recognition


    - Beckard Links does not attempt to speak to you

 Chapter 65 — A New Quest

    Chapter 65 ¡ª A New Quest


    I should¡¯ve chosen a different class. Claire tossed and turned as she lay about atop the horn. Thirty minutes had passed since she had defeated the lifegiver, but she had yet to touch the hexstone or do anything even remotely productive. The entire half hour was spent trying to fall asleep, but she couldn¡¯t quite get comfortable, no matter how much she fidgeted about.


    Every position she fathomed came with its fair share of problems. Lying on her side didn¡¯t work because her upper body was thinner than the horse-like base that supported it. There was an awkward gap between her flank and the ground, and it felt like she was putting too much of her weight on her shoulders. The alternatives were just as unviable. She tried getting around the problem logically by sleeping as would a horse, with her legs tucked underneath her and her gut resting on the ground, but soon found the approach completely untenable. Her upper body was left unsupported. She could keep it in position if she paid attention to it, but the moment she started dozing off was the moment it would start slouching. She would lean forward, her arms would hang, and she would be jolted awake.


    The halfbreed was so desperate that she even tried sleeping on her back, which to nobody¡¯s surprise, ended in abject failure. Her humanoid half was surprisingly flexible; it wasn¡¯t impossible for her to lie atop the horn¡¯s smooth, iron surface with her spine stretched all the way out, but it was certainly as uncomfortable as uncomfortable could possibly get. There was a tiny ridge right where her two backs connected, and the way it jutted out made it impossible for her to lie flat. It was like there was an arm between her back and the hardened surface she was using as a bed.


    Wait! I¡¯ve got it!


    Urged on by a sudden flash of inspiration, the lyrkress turned back onto her side and tucked her tail into the empty space that bothered her. It was the perfect solution. Until it wasn¡¯t. The prehensile appendage was struck by a wave of discomfort right as she was finally about to drift off to dreamland, a wave of pain and numbness. The prickling sensation that stemmed from the fluffiest part of her body spread throughout her rear every time she so much as twitched; her tail had fallen asleep before her.


    I hate this.


    Claire bit her lips as she smacked a fist against the ground and pushed herself up into a seated position. She was already sick of her new form. Much of the fault lay with the insensitive borrok. Her prey¡¯s illusions had drained her of the elation that had come with her ascension. What bothered her the most was that she had fallen for the trick despite being fully aware of it. She knew what illusion magic was. And she knew that her father had just been an artificial hallucination. But she had still collapsed. Right in front of him. Like a helpless, newborn foal.


    Sighing for the thousand time, the bluescale walked towards the hexstone with her limp half-asleep tail trailing behind her. Moving without the help of her snakier parts proved surprisingly difficult. She had to turn her flippers into a second pair of legs to reduce the amount of effort involved.


    Her mood was even worse than it had been just a few minutes ago, but she decided to touch the hexstone nonetheless. She knew better than to let herself laze around; she would never stop if she started.


    The environment shifted as Claire pressed a hand against the runic monument. Unlike both the previous instances, the force mage was able to perceive the spell at work. She knew little of the theory that went into transporting one¡¯s consciousness, but she could feel the countless complex threads pulling at the very fiber of her being as she answered the head librarian¡¯s summons.


    ¡°You¡¯re late.¡±


    Alfred greeted her with a smirk as the transfer completed, a wide mocking grin akin to that of a child with a prank at the ready.


    ¡°The quest says there are more than two days left.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I wasn¡¯t expecting you earlier.¡± He fiddled through the documents on his desk as he spoke. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d waste a day fiddling around with clothes. It¡¯s not exactly the sort of behaviour you¡¯d expect from someone with an impending deadline, you see. Most of the others panic and run off the moment they see the timer.¡± His hands eventually settled on a particularly crumpled piece of parchment covered in three different kinds of illegible text. ¡°Read this. We can save the talking for when you¡¯re done.¡±


    The page slowly floated over, bobbing through the air as would a jellyfish in the water. Claire tried to reach for it, but it disintegrated before her fingers made contact.


    Log Entry 1759


    You have read The Lost Library¡¯s Third Chapter. It has been transcribed into your native language as the following log entry.


    Log Entry 1760


    Hello, trial-goer, and congratulations on completing your quest and finding a third set of instructions. Llystletein is a challenging environment, in which even the best may find it difficult to thrive, but know that the librarians will always be present and willing to provide you with guidance. All you need to do is seek them and ask.


    Comprehending the contents of this message will grant the following boons:


    - An audience with the Head Librarian.


    - An immediate upgrade to any Catgirl Detector skills.


    - An upgrade to the Llystletein Authority skill that provides low level access to the library¡¯s records.


    Log Entry 1761


    Catgirl Detector V. 0.17 has been forcefully evolved into Catgirl Detector V. 0.32. Tracking has been assimilated into Catgirl Detector V. 0.32. This assimilation has earned you a proficiency bonus.


    Great¡­ just what I wanted¡­


    Sighing internally, Claire opened up the skill and read along as her ears were made privy to its description.


    Catgirl Detector V. 0.32 - Level 3


    There exists a fine line between a preference and an obsession. You have somehow managed to cross this line whilst remaining entirely unaware of your problem. Continue down this path, and those that are closest to you are sure to hold an intervention.


    Effects


    - Amplifies the effect of the Catgirl Enthusiast achievement.


    - The tracks left behind by others become more clear to you.


    - You are capable of discerning the precise extent to which anything is or is not a catgirl. This feature will activate automatically in the presence of any individual that is systematically related to or associated with catgirls.


    - You are able to designate a creature as your target and track it if it is within 3.25km (2.5km + 0.25km/level) of your location. This range may be increased by a percentage correlating to the extent to which the target you are tracking is a catgirl.


    Requirements


    - Stalk at least one sentient individual without its knowledge.


    - Raise a lower tier Catgirl Detector skill to level 10 or higher.


    ¡°Another thing that I wasn¡¯t expecting was for you to kill the watcher.¡± The old mage started talking almost immediately after she finished listening to the goddess. ¡°You would¡¯ve made it to Borrok Peak a full day earlier if you had let him show you around.¡±


    ¡°Which one? There were lots of watchers.¡±


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°The one you killed, of course.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t narrow it down much.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­ of course. I nearly forgot you were murder incarnate.¡± Alfred shook his head as he emptied his pipe atop a small earthenware plate. ¡°I was referring to the first one you met. You do realise that he was meant to be your guide, yes? That was his lot in life, his sole purpose.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing you don¡¯t care much for the borroks either then?¡±


    ¡°Not at all.¡±


    ¡°Really? You aren''t even the slightest bit curious? I know for a fact that the sentinel mentioned a few interesting tidbits before he died. He was a bit of a loud mouth, that one. Oh, and before you ask, that wasn¡¯t meant to be criticism. I always do find it a pleasure to see a borrok develop its own personality.¡±


    Claire was tempted to remind the celestial that she really didn¡¯t care about the bug-monkeys, but opted to stay silent. The old man was clearly looking to rant, and she figured that she could use his outburst as leverage further down the line.


    ¡°You see, the borroks were meant to be a more monster-like species, a minor experiment, if you will. I was mixing feline features with primate-ones so I could figure out all the quirks ahead of any more important procedures.¡±


    A peculiar scene played out as the old man tapped his empty pipe against his desk. The seemingly sentient magical stick that was his wand descended from a nearby bookcase and started waving itself around. With a short series of flicks, it opened a drawer, retrieved a set of dried leaves, and relit the old man¡¯s pipe before returning from whence it came. Staring up at it, the halfbreed realised that it was working autonomously. The magical catalyst was moving the library¡¯s tomes to and fro, sorting and rearranging them as it danced through the air.


    ¡°I was planning to discard them after wrapping everything up, but one thing led to another, and I realised that I was going to need to make monsters for people like you to hunt,¡± he said, as he leaned back into his chair. ¡°You see, the system¡¯s current iteration is quite interesting in that it doesn¡¯t normally quantify a number of stats that relate to intelligence and the ego, except when risk is involved.¡± He flashed a cold smile. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re starting to see where this is going.¡±


    ¡°You made them sentient so they¡¯d be better cannon fodder.¡±


    ¡°That I did,¡± he said. ¡°To be more precise, I gave them the capacity to learn, which is often considered more valuable than a true sense of self.¡± Alfred put his hands together and leaned forward as he puffed on his pipe. ¡°The metrics seem to suggest that it¡¯s much deadlier, on average.¡±


    ¡°Okay. I don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°Really? Even after all that?¡± Alfred sighed and slowly shook his head.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re just trying to rile me up.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s normally supposed to make it even more offensive,¡± complained the old man.


    Claire shrugged.


    ¡°Well, there goes all my fun. Plans A through E out the window, just like that.¡± He propped his face up against one of his fists as he sulked. ¡°Is there any chance I can get you to openly judge me and yell at me for being a selfish prick anyway? It¡¯s been a long while since I last had the chance to relish the opportunity.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Please? I¡¯ll even give you some ability points if you step on my face.¡±


    Claire paused for a moment to blink. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°And why not?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d enjoy it. And you¡¯re disgusting.¡±


    ¡°So uncooperative¡­¡± The prehistoric human slowly shook his head. ¡°Fine, you win. Go ahead and ask your questions. Let¡¯s just get this over with, shall we?¡±


    ¡°Do I get any more quests?¡±


    ¡°If you want one, then I¡¯ve got no choice but to deliver.¡±


    Log Entry 1762


    You have received a quest - The Lords¡¯ Last Regards


    Primary Objectives:


    - The Lord of the Holt is slain.


    - The Lord of the Chasm is slain.


    - The Lord of the Slough is slain.


    Bonus Objectives:


    - The Lord of the Holt is slain at night.


    - Consume the flesh of 10 distinct mirewulves.


    - The Citadel¡¯s forces do not participate in the battle against the Lord of the Chasm.


    Deadline: 31 days


    This quest¡¯s reward is a high-tier skill that unifies a number of your existing skills. Additional functionality will be provided based on the number of bonus objectives completed. The skill to be selected will depend on your skill levels and ability score distribution at the time of the quest¡¯s completion. Failing to complete this quest before the deadline will result in the forfeiture of its reward.


    Claire furrowed her brows as she followed along with the Goddess¡¯ voice. It took her a brief moment to figure out why she had a vague recollection of the Lord of the Holt. It was one of the mirewulves that Sylvia had mentioned in passing, and if memory served her correctly, it was apparently very powerful.


    ¡°Do you have anything else, or will that be all?¡± asked the celestial.


    Claire paused for a moment before crossing her arms in front of her. Since she was in spirit form, the position worked surprisingly well. Her arms were able to fade right through her icy chest spike. ¡°How am I supposed to sleep?¡±


    She had almost wanted to ask the demigod about the eternal flow, but refrained in the interest of secrecy. Trusting him was next to impossible, and him knowing of her circumstances was unlikely to make it any easier.


    ¡°By closing your eyes and contemplating the futility of your meager existence, of course. How else?¡±


    ¡°I mean my posture.¡±


    Claire looked down at her body so that she could point to the different sources of her discomfort, only to find that she was not in her lyrkrian form. She was back to being a plain old halfbreed, which both confused and alarmed her. Neither emotion was shown on her face, but the old celestial had somehow understood that there was something to be done.


    ¡°Ah, yes. Your avatar isn¡¯t up to date. One second.¡±


    He leaned forward and started fiddling with some of the things on his desk as his wand looped through the air, drawing runes of pure mana. One brief flash of light later, the rogue suddenly found herself staring at the top of the man¡¯s hat, instead of his face.


    ¡°The Llystletein subsystem is hooked up to the core the same way all the others are, but it¡¯s got a few quirks that I never bothered ironing out.¡± Leaning back into his seat, the human took a long drag from his pipe. ¡°What were you saying again?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to sleep. Nothing feels right.¡±


    ¡°Typical centaur pains,¡± he said, with a chuckle. ¡°The first step would be to not sleep on top of an interdimensional mountain-building. Just find yourself a waist pillow or something once you get back down onto the ground.¡±


    ¡°Where am I supposed to get one of those?¡±


    ¡°Well, you could ask the foxes to make you one, or you could go looking for the settlement on the third floor. Either way works.¡±


    ¡°The citadel?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what they call it, yes. It¡¯s a bit of a silly name, considering that they¡¯ve simply repurposed a small run-down fort, but it¡¯s not my business to tell them how they should be referring to their things, I suppose.¡±


    Claire frowned, but didn¡¯t comment any further.


    ¡°Okay. That¡¯s it. You can send me back now.¡±


    ¡°Really? That¡¯s all? You don¡¯t have any more questions?¡±


    ¡°None.¡±


    Or at least none that I want to ask you.


    ¡°You can trust me more, you know?¡± The old man heaved a sigh. ¡°But I doubt me saying that is going to do much for your opinion.¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Before you go, there is one thing I want to ask you.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Where did you get your spirit guardians?¡±


    ¡°From my force mage class,¡± said the halfbreed, matter-of-factly.


    ¡°The class isn¡¯t meant to come with any guardians. You need to form contracts with them if you wish to tap into their powers.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°No idea then.¡±


    I always thought that they were just figments of my imagination. They weren¡¯t supposed to be real.


    ¡°Strange, very strange indeed.¡± Alfred pulled his hat forward and obscured his eyes and he started to mumble. ¡°Llystletein doesn¡¯t contain any spirits that prefer projecting themselves as horses or snakes, and it¡¯s effectively cut off from the outside world. I¡¯m not sure how it¡¯s possible for you to have contracted them.¡±


    ¡°Oh, great. Another person that gets lost in their own thoughts.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, no, no. That thing and I are quite different, thank you very much,¡± he said, as he raised a hand to his chin. ¡°Either way, I think I¡¯ve kept you here long enough. I can figure the rest out on my own. Off you go.¡±


    With a light wave of the hand, the celestial sent the lyrkress away.

 Chapter 66 — A New Quest II

    Chapter 66 ¡ª A New Quest II


    The first thing Claire did upon returning to her body was stretch. She extended her tail as far as it would go, raised her arms overhead, and pushed her legs forward. It was an odd set of movements, not the sort she would¡¯ve been willing to perform in public, but it did a good job of loosening up everything from her stiffened shoulders to her missing hind legs.


    Though still annoyed and far from rested, the halfbreed decided that it was time to move on. With one final stretch, she turned around and exited the pyramid¡¯s penthouse. Stepping onto an elevated platform, she found herself staring down at a crowd of borroks. There were a thousand of them gathered in the atrium. Rotbloods, mages, and warriors were all present and accounted for. Some even had their hands together in prayer.


    But that all came to an end as she stepped far enough forward for them to see her. The swarm began buzzing and hooting as it scattered to the winds. Even without the horrified shrieks, it was evident that her survival¡ªthe so-called lifegiver¡¯s death¡ªwas not the result they had been hoping for.


    Watching them leave filled her with a mixed bag of emotions. On one hand, she felt like death itself, like a member of the royal guard entering a crowd of dissenting rebels. Knowing that her presence was enough to strike fear in their hearts filled her with confidence. But the pride that stemmed from their terror came hand in hand with a sense of disgust. That was exactly how he did things, and she didn¡¯t want to be anything like him.


    Why does everything have to be so complicated?


    Claire fiddled with her tail¡¯s feathered tip as she spiralled down the staircase. Though it seemed like an incredibly simple process, the lyrkress found herself struggling to descend. Every downwards step she took would leave her upper body pitched at an awkward angle. It almost felt like she was falling, even though her serpentine rear was keeping her grounded. She wasn¡¯t able to speed up until she realised that she could get rid of her legs. Playing snake allowed her to forgo the steps altogether and slither down the central pillar that supported them.


    Log Entry 1763


    Lyrkrian Shapeshifting has reached level 3.


    I should¡¯ve done this on the way up.


    The bloodthief kept experimenting with her body after hitting the ground. Rather than returning to her base form, she chose to become more centaur-like and grew out both her front and back legs. She was somewhat hesitant to get rid of her beautifully plump tail, but retracted it in the interest of keeping her frame as sleek and light as possible.


    She started running off as soon as the transformation was complete. Galloping proved about as easy as slithering. Her body somehow knew what it had to do, despite her lack of familiarity with the anomalies known as hind legs. The murals whooshed by, but the halfbreed¡¯s newly improved eyes kept her surroundings from blurring. She could still observe the paintings as easily as she could whilst not in motion. She felt like she had all the awareness in the world. But not even that was enough to stop her from running straight into a wall. Despite having lived amongst centaurs all her life, the halfbreed had forgotten that they weren¡¯t the most adept at suddenly stopping or turning on a dime.


    The pyramid¡¯s wall had taken the Claire-shaped battering ram surprisingly well. There were a few small cracks here and there, but as a whole, the meter-thick ice had remained undamaged. Likewise, Claire was hardly any worse for wear. Her head was spinning, but she didn¡¯t have any obvious external injuries.


    After taking a moment to shake away the dizziness, the force mage pressed her arms against the wall and pushed herself away from it. Or at least she tried. For some odd reason, her body didn¡¯t budge, no matter how hard she tried to pry herself off the ice. Looking down revealed the problem¡¯s source. It was the shard of true ice.


    The thorn in her chest was stuck. More than half of it was wedged inside the wall, and pushing on the structure did absolutely nothing to help. She tried wiggling her way out, but that was equally as ineffective. Her chest refused to move, no matter what she did. The most she could manage were the tiniest of twitches, small enough for her to suspect them figments of her imagination. Plan B, punching the wall, also failed to work out as planned. There wasn¡¯t enough room between the halfbreed and the fortification for her to use all her strength. She tried bashing it with her tail, but found herself subjected to the exact same problem.


    ¡°Shoulderhorse.¡±


    Left with no other choice, Claire called upon her spirit guardian.


    ¡°Hello, Claire! Quite the interesting predicament you have yourself stuck in,¡± said the equine, as it materialised. ¡°But don¡¯t you worry. I, the magnificent Shoulderhorse, will have it solved in a heartbeat!¡±


    ¡°Shut up and do it already.¡±


    At her command, the horse activated its ability and started inhaling. But the wall was not consumed.


    The spirit guardian was.


    It spun around in circles as it was pulled straight into a point of space located within its own mouth, shrieking all the way. Claire was by no means exempt from the backlash. Her body began following in the deformed pony¡¯s footsteps. The joint holding her shoulder to her chest had its nerves lit aflame; the limb was twisted out of shape and dematerialized, sucked inside the horse¡¯s gut. Having failed to anticipate the sudden torment, the halfbreed howled in pain and tried to escape its source. But she couldn¡¯t. She was still stuck.


    ¡°Shoulderhorse! You useless idiot!¡±


    She wasn¡¯t able to move until the black hole ate through half her chest. Her lungs, ribs, and innards were all torn to bits as blood poured from her open flank. The shard of true ice was the only thing that wasn¡¯t destroyed by the spell¡¯s backlash. It remained stuck in the wall, even as she was finally able to pull herself away. Her wounds looked bad, life-threatening even, but glancing at her status page, she found that she was only missing about a third of her total. Her health regeneration would take care of the injury in due time. All she needed to do was sit around.


    Why did that happen?


    It took a moment for the halfbreed to process that the equine¡¯s ability could only backfire when it attempted to consume a spell that she didn¡¯t have enough mana to handle. And it just so happened that the pyramid was an interdimensional mountain-building that just so happened to be made and maintained with magic.


    Groaning, she pushed herself against a different part of the wall and leaned on her shoulder. In spite of the wound¡¯s relatively low lethality, she was left feeling about as awful as awful could get. She couldn¡¯t breathe and it was hard for her to put any strength into any of her limbs. Even her tail was rendered mostly unresponsive. It took everything she had to stop herself from screaming. There wasn¡¯t enough adrenaline in her system to dull the pain.


    At least the ice is gone. Now I can finally cross my arms again.


    The thought crossed her mind as soon as it was clear enough for there to be something beyond the burning agony. She looked down at her chest to confirm her suspicions, only to find that the shard¡ªthe entirety of which had clearly been removed¡ªwas slowly growing back alongside her flesh and bone.


    Shoulderhorse! You can¡¯t do anything right!


    Grumbling and complaining, Claire laid about until her wounds were finally healed. Once finally stable, she stood up and arranged what was left of her cloak so that it would cover everything that she didn¡¯t want exposed. The gaping hole left in the fabric was massive, but not problematic so long as it was rotated behind her. Thankfully, the garment didn¡¯t have any sleeves. Its hood was its only strictly defined feature, and tearing it off was all she needed to turn the dysfunctional garb into one that could be worn in any which way.


    Once she was sure that she was at least presentable, by some stretch of the imagination, she once again shifted into a full blown centaur and resumed galloping, albeit not at her top speed. After completing a few laps around the building and rediscovering her confidence, she left through the perfectly rectangular doorway and made a beeline for the nearest restroom. Shoulderhorse was summoned mid-process and ordered to consume every non-interdimensional building she happened to cross. The ice would be necessary for what she had in mind.


    The public lavatory she arrived at was already occupied, but Claire had no intention of waiting for the borrok inside to finish its business. Her lack of patience was resolved with a kick to the face; the bug-monkey was sent spiralling straight down the pit, broken wings and all. Taking a moment to peek over the edge, she took a deep breath, transformed herself into a humanoid and joined it on its trip to hell.


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    Her descent was accompanied by a rapid change in the environment, just as it had on her first trip down. But this time, she didn¡¯t find herself overwhelmed by the change in temperature. She wasn¡¯t even uncomfortable. The heat-resistant halfbreed was confident that she wouldn¡¯t have noticed the difference had she not been actively seeking it.


    Though she didn¡¯t exactly want to grab the filthy ladder, she had no other way to redirect herself in midair, so she reluctantly reached for it and swung herself to shore. The borrok, on the other hand, was not nearly as agile. It fell straight into the cesspit and burst into a ball of flame as it made contact with the fiery abyss. Its body was rapidly consumed, spirited away by a thousand layers of brimstone. The only reminder of its presence was a subterranean explosion, a tiny detonation that caused a bubble to rumble to the lava¡¯s surface.


    Log Entry 1764


    You have slain a level 21 borrok.


    After stopping to thoroughly wash her hands, the rogue undid her transformation and wandered over to the lava¡¯s edge. She knew that it was unsanitary, but she needed to confirm the extent of her resistance before moving forward with her plan. Scrunching up her nose, she extended her tail and inched it towards the magma. Only as she came within a few inches of it did she finally begin to feel the rising heat. It felt like she was holding the limb above a boiling cauldron. The steaming gas bothered her, but not enough for her to feel the need to pull her tail to safety. One final nervous gulp later, she pressed forward and dipped a feather into the igneous solution.


    Log Entry 1765


    Thermodynamic Regulation has reached level 3.


    Unlike the bug-monkey, she didn¡¯t suddenly catch fire, but she did find herself involuntarily reeling the appendage away from the pit. The burning sensation lasted only for a few moments before it started to fade. The visuals seemed in line with the relative lack of pain. Her tail¡¯s tip was left slightly discoloured, but otherwise remained in perfect shape. Even her status screen was telling her she was fine. The experiment had only cost her a scant few points of health.


    Though not as ideal as she had hoped, the results proved more than good enough for what she was about to do. If everything went according to plan, she would be able to mount an easy escape.


    With that thought in mind, the rogue began washing her tail as she scanned the environment. It was difficult for her to differentiate between the various lavacombs. Finding her safe zone was nigh impossible, but her destination was in plain sight. It was the only place with its icy tubes sealed shut¡ªthe whale¡¯s last known location. Taking a deep breath, Claire reverted to her bipedal form as she neared. The less the monster knew, the more effective her bluff would be.


    Her eyes closed, the halfbreed took a moment to shift gears. She ripped off her usual mask, her neutral low-effort poker face, and put on the sort of highly emotional act that she often opted for around other members of the nobility, seasoned veterans well adapted to reading faces and guessing at the true intentions of others. Given the circumstances at hand, the halfbreed chose to sneer, as would a spoiled brat backed by a veritable army of soldiers. She doubted that the behemoth could actually see her expression, let alone understand it, but if it did, the smirk would be as good a provocation as any.


    ¡°Who dares intrude upon my domain?¡±


    No sooner had she stepped underneath a sealed pipe than the whale burst from the ground. Just as it had on her previous encounter. It even said the same line.


    ¡°It¡¯s me, the thing that isn¡¯t a borrok.¡± She stared straight at the hulking behemoth as she spoke. ¡°I killed the corruptor.¡±


    ¡°Hah! Nonsense!¡± Bits of rock fell from the ceiling as the whale laughed. ¡°If you managed to kill him, you would have my staff.¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°Really, now?¡± The volcano spirit sent a pulse of raw magical energy through the environment as it leaned forward and turned an eye on her. ¡°Now that¡­ is a surprise. Yes¡­ yes! I can sense it! But it feels¡­ strange... changed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t really know what to tell you,¡± said Claire. ¡°Sometimes, things don¡¯t exactly go according to plan.¡±


    ¡°What has happened to it!?¡± The ground rumbled as the whale pounded it with a flipper. ¡°Explain immediately!¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ about that,¡± said the halfbreed, with a dark chuckle. ¡°It¡¯s not getting fixed. I¡¯ve already absorbed it.¡±


    Claire pulled her cloak closer to her chest and exposed the shard. Its tip ripped right through the fabric as would a freshly whetted knife through a sheet of paper. She channeled her magic through the catalyst as she revealed it, and in doing so, made it¡ªand her body¡ªglow with an icy blue light.


    ¡°No¡­ you didn¡¯t!¡±


    The whale pushed itself forward with its flippers as it spoke, as if to get a better glimpse of the shimmering object stuck within the humanoid¡¯s chest.


    ¡°Did you really think I was going to give it to you? How stupid are you?¡± Claire cackled, loudly, dramatically. The laugh was so haughty that she even managed to annoy herself. ¡°You didn¡¯t even promise me a real reward.¡±


    ¡°You lie! I sai¡ª¡±


    She cut the whale off by magically seizing its tongue.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care what you said,¡± snickered Claire. ¡°Do you really think you can offer me something that¡¯s worth more than an elemental power source?¡±


    Her taunts were working. The oversized cetacean hadn¡¯t reacted at first, but the lava levels started to rise as soon as it got over its initial shock. Everything was bubbling, and the mountain itself even seemed like it was starting to shake. It was clearly angry. But not angry enough.


    ¡°The only thing you could possibly give me is your blessing.¡±


    ¡°If you know that, th¡ª¡± Again, the monster¡¯s tongue was forced back into its throat.


    ¡°But even that¡¯s worthless. The most a lesser spirit like you could give would be a single point of strength.¡±


    ¡°I am not a les¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather be blessed by a borrok.¡±


    ¡°Cease this immedi¡ª¡±


    ¡°At least they¡¯re smart enough to know not to live in cesspits. Do you think their priests are any good? They¡¯re bound to be better than a lesser spirit, at least, right?¡±


    ¡°Enough! I have had enough!¡± The whale shouted as several nearby pools erupted into pillars of magma. ¡°I will not stand to be insulted by the likes of you!¡±


    It shot a dozen spears of flame at her, but Shoulderhorse negated them all. The hexes only cost Claire a hundred mana each, an amount that, in the grand scheme of things, was pitifully unimportant. Its subordinates had joined in on the assault as well, but their attacks, she ignored. The fire that left their mouths passed her by like a cool breeze, lighting only her clothes aflame. Even that was soon negated. Lowering the temperature of her surroundings snuffed out the dolphins¡¯ embers.


    Log Entry 1766


    Thermodynamic Regulation has reached level 4.


    ¡°Give it up. You can¡¯t hurt me,¡± she said, with another cocky grin.


    It was a bluff. She would soon be overwhelmed if it kept up its barrage, but that was not something the spirit had any way of knowing. All it knew was that its abilities were being nulled. And never before had it encountered a creature capable of outright obliterating its magic. The phenomenon was so bizarre that the beast never stopped to consider that it could have been limited in scope.


    ¡°Impossible! You¡¯re just a low-leveled rogue! You weren¡¯t even fifty the last time, and you¡¯re hardly any different now!¡±


    The skill the whale relied on was one Claire knew well. It was called Eye of Perception, and was often held by monsters capable of commanding others of their species. It was why the corruptor had looked at her the way it did, as well as the reason the whale had been able to guess her power level. Those that were less barbaric¡ªindividuals that the system described as people¡ªcould learn the skill by investing in the Judge class. It was a common and well documented ability that returned the level and grouping of the target¡¯s primary class without exception or error.


    ¡°Eye of Perception doesn¡¯t work if you¡¯re outclassed.¡± Claire undid her transformation as she lied. In a matter of moments, her body turned from that of a halfbreed to that of a serpentine cervitaur. ¡°You couldn¡¯t even see through my disguise. Did you really think your magic could outdo mine?¡±


    She pointed a finger to her right and ordered Shoulderhorse to empty the contents of its stomach. The massive glob of ice that resulted crashed through the mountain¡¯s wall and left a gaping hole in its magma chamber. Had the mountain¡¯s lord been in its right mind, it would have been able to determine that Claire¡¯s projectile did not stem from the magical source she implied. But it was too rattled to interpret the display as anything but an overwhelming show of magical talent, proof that she had already mastered the shard that the whale would have needed months to fully integrate.


    The halfbreed pulled one of the dolphins straight into the palm of her hand. The whale tried to assist it by slapping her with one of its flippers, but the attack was too slow. She evaded it with a lazy, half-attentive hop.


    ¡°Your stupidity is what got Herk killed.¡± With a smile on her face, she stuck a hand through the ash that made up the gargoyle¡¯s body, tore out its core, and drained it of its magic as she held it up to the mountain spirit.


    ¡°Release her!¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    With a squeeze, the stone that was the creature¡¯s heart was shattered.


    Log Entry 1767


    You have slain a level 23 lesser volcano spirit.


    ¡°Helvett! No! How dare you!¡±


    The entire volcano was starting to shake, in part because of the spirit¡¯s fury, and in part because it was flailing about in an attempt to assault her with its pathetically underdeveloped limbs. But not a single one of its attacks landed on target. Though the whale had power, it lacked the technique to move its body in anything but the simplest of arcs.


    There were plenty of opportunities to counterattack, but Claire took none of them. She doubted she would be able to land any meaningful hits, let alone get through to the spirit¡¯s core. Not that she needed to. Her task had been completed the moment the cete¡¯s rampage began.


    Grabbing another random dolphin, Claire casually made her way towards the chamber¡¯s newest exit. When she wasn¡¯t dodging, she was strutting, with obvious swagger in every step. Each attack that missed came with a corresponding change in the environment. A molten pit would burst into a pillar of flame and ash with every hit she dodged.


    ¡°Stop evading and fight me!¡±


    ¡°Maybe if you were worth the experience.¡± Claire stuck her tongue out as she continued her advance. ¡°I¡¯m going to go kill some more borroks now. Bye!¡±


    With a wave and another snicker, she finally started running to exit. The whale created a wall of lava that spanned the distance between the halfbreed and her destination, but she galloped right through it, her resistance aiding her in escaping unharmed. Once outside, the lyrkress threw the dolphin she had kidnapped onto a patch of snow and stepped on its back, turning it into a makeshift snowboard as she raced down the mountainside with an earth-shattering eruption following in her wake.

 Chapter 67 — A New Quest III

    Chapter 67 ¡ª A New Quest III


    A mix of fire and ash billowed from the volcano¡¯s spout like hot water from a geyser. The superheated jet stream crowded the night with streaks of red as it separated into a thousand scalding projectiles. The spirit¡¯s anger filled the sky, obscuring the heavens with thick, black clouds of dust. Beneath the moonless firmament, there ran a dozen fresh rivers, made of the molten rock. Flaming avalanches surged down the infernal alp with seemingly unparalleled vigour, but Claire remained far ahead of the all-consuming wave.


    Log Entry 1768


    You have completed one of ¡°Destroy Borrok Peak¡¯s¡± bonus objectives.


    You have been awarded 5 of each ability score.


    The final bonus objective will remain active for the next 54 hours.


    She had started the descent with a dolphin-shaped snowboard underfoot, but abandoned the faulty instrument before she so much as got a fifth of the way down the mountain. The gargoyle wasn¡¯t large enough to support her lyrkrian frame, nor was it flat enough to provide a boost to her speed. Its struggling had only served to delay her, so she disposed of it by haphazardly chucking it into a mound of snow.


    To an outsider, it would have seemed as if she was simply making a mad dash away from the mountain¡¯s summit. But Claire knew better than that. Because Borrok Peak was isolated from the rest of the library. The volcano was floating in an otherwise empty void; simply making a break for its base would not get her to safety. She would be swallowed by the wave as soon as she reached the bottom and ran out of places to go. That was why she was following in the centaurs¡¯ footsteps. The trail they left was still fresh in the snow, but Tracking¡ªor more precisely Catgirl Detector V. 0.32¡ªwasn¡¯t unable to detect them. The combination seemed to imply that they knew of a portal leading out of the mysterious subspace¡ªa doorway of sorts that would take her off the mountain. Further confirming her suspicions were the biome¡¯s various inhabitants. Not all of them were able to outrun the spirit¡¯s rage, but those that had yet to fall seemed to share her destination.


    Following the centaur¡¯s tracks, Claire eventually found herself faced with a dense but unremarkable patch of woodland. At a glance, it looked about as ordinary as could be, but all the animals and monsters that ran through its entrance would suddenly vanish, as if magically whisked away. Trusting her instincts¡ªand the various traces of force magic she sensed around it¡ªthe lyrkress pressed forward and leapt straight into the anomaly.


    Surely enough, everything changed the moment she passed the tree line. The world suddenly brightened as the fire and ash gave way to a warm, sunny breeze. The only bit of volcanic residue still lingering in the air came from within the portal.


    Breathing a sigh of relief, the halfbreed stepped away from the stampede and leapt atop a nearby tree. The first branch she touched was too thin to support her weight and gave out beneath her, but she was able to stop herself from falling all the way to the ground by landing atop another wooded limb with a significantly thicker stem.


    ¡°Hey! You there, with the silvery scales! What the hell is going on!?¡±


    A voice called for her from within the forest. Accompanied by another.


    Log Entry 1769


    You have failed one of ¡°Destroy Borrok Peak¡¯s¡± bonus objectives.


    As no objectives remain, this quest is now complete and has been purged from your active quest list.


    Craning her neck towards the ability point thief, Claire found herself looking upon a strange creature whose bare skin was marred with scars. It took her a moment to recognize that he was a cat-sith, his lack of hair a major inhibitor in her ability to identify his species. Though he was clearly of a feline make, the box that popped up above his eerie hairless head seemed to profess otherwise. The text explicitly stated that he was the exact opposite of a catgirl, with his rating sitting at a perfect -100%.


    Log Entry 1770


    Catgirl Detector V. 0.32 has reached level 4.


    After taking two looks at the suspicious freak, the halfbreed decided that she was going to do her utmost to avoid him. She wanted to punch him at least a few times for depriving her of a non-insignificant number of ability points, but something about the man¡¯s aura gave the impression that staying away from him would be for the best. Knowing that her social instincts were often on point, the blueblood turned around and bolted away at top speed.


    ¡°Wait! Come back!¡±


    The cat, which tried chasing after her on its hind legs, was repelled with a well-timed vector. She didn¡¯t know exactly where he went, after he was sent tumbling through a bush, but she frankly didn¡¯t care. So long as he was out of sight, she was confident that she could also keep him out of mind.


    ___


    Slithering backwards, Claire watched the horn distort and fade as she got further and further away. It was a strange and almost mesmerizing sight. She was tempted to move back and forth just to watch the flaming iron construct shift between its various forms. But she didn¡¯t. The magical volcano had failed to hold her attention for anything more than a few seconds, her own body winning out by no short margain. Backpedaling was a task that was far more difficult as a lyrkress than it had been as a halfbreed. Focusing on her proprioception threw it out of tune; the harder she concentrated, the clunkier her body became.


    Consciously keeping track of her whole body was incredibly difficult, now that it was several times its previous length. Moving her feet, midsection, and tail in tandem made her feel like she was juggling a dozen different tasks all at once. Her tail would get stuck on a branch every time she paid too much attention to her feet, and her body would find itself mysteriously tied up and tangled every time it slipped her mind. Centering her consciousness on the snakier parts of her frame also proved completely ineffective. Her legs constantly wound up tripping on random bits of foliage.


    It took what felt like the better part of an hour for the rogue to finally master the awkward motion. Leading with her tail went from an unintuitive nightmare to just another relatively simple action. She¡¯d become capable of leaping backwards and doing flips, and it had only cost her a few dozen embarrassing missteps. At least no one was watching.


    ¡°Wow Claire, you look really different! You¡¯re a lot bigger and snakier now. Congrats on ascending, I guess!¡±


    A familiar fox popped out of a nearby bush. She was surrounded on all sides by magical notes and floating bubbles of various sizes, each of which contained a fish and just enough water to keep it alive.


    ¡°Sylvia.¡± The halfbreed adjusted the position of her feet as she turned her eyes on the orange furball. 78% catgirl? That¡¯s really high...


    ¡°Yup! That¡¯s me! Oh, and what were you doing just now? It looked really weird.¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°You sure? Because it didn¡¯t really look like nothing. I mean, you were clearly trying to do something, and it kinda seemed like a dance, but not really because your steps weren¡¯t rhythmic enough.¡±


    ¡°It was nothing,¡± insisted the halfbreed, as she began walking towards the fox. ¡°How long have you been here? I didn¡¯t hear you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because of my magic! I know you hear really well, so I tried silencing all my steps and stuff,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I was just kinda in the area and came looking as soon as I realised you were done with your quest. Wait ummm¡­ are you mad that I was watching? It wasn¡¯t on purpose, I swear! I just couldn¡¯t help myself because of how funny it was.¡±


    The halfbreed¡¯s silent and almost sinister approach led the vixen to take a few nervous steps back before turning around and breaking into a run. But she wasn¡¯t able to escape. Claire suddenly appeared behind her and lifted her by the nape.


    ¡°Gotcha.¡±


    ¡°Wow! That¡¯s totally unfair! You¡¯re way faster than you were before,¡± complained the fox, who found herself pulled into a hug. ¡°Tag isn¡¯t gonna be any fun anymore unless I start casting a whole bunch of spells.¡±


    ¡°Can you shut up already?¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ I don¡¯t really think you¡¯re supposed to hug someone and then immediately tell them to shut up. It¡¯s making it so I can¡¯t tell if you actually missed me or not. Oh, and I¡¯m not really good at shutting up in the first place so that was never really going to work anyway. You could¡¯ve asked for some fish or something instead. I¡¯m good at sharing, but I don¡¯t really think I can be quiet even if I put my mind to it.¡±


    ¡°Just for a bit,¡± said Claire, as she gave the fox a bit of a squeeze.


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    ¡°Well, I guess I can probably for just a little since you look so different.¡±


    After getting one final phrase out of her system, Sylvia pressed her hands over her mouth and kept relatively quiet as she turned her eyes on a bubble featuring the half-snake¡¯s reflection. She nearly started mouthing off each time she noted a major difference, but managed to stay silent until she was done. That, however, was about as long as she lasted.


    ¡°Is that enough? I¡¯m starting to get kinda bored,¡± complained the furball.


    ¡°Just five more minutes,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Five minutes is way too long! And isn¡¯t that something people normally say when they don¡¯t want to get out of bed?¡±


    ¡°Good idea. I should sleep.¡±


    Covering her mouth with the tip of her tail, Claire stifled a yawn and started stamping down the foliage around her.


    ¡°That¡¯s a terrible idea! It¡¯s gonna turn really soon. You¡¯re gonna get stuck running into mirewulves if you don¡¯t find yourself a bramblewood tree!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll deal with it when it happens.¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t think you should! Mirewulves are super tough!¡±


    ¡°I have to kill their boss sometime within the next month. I might as well get used to fighting them,¡± said Claire. ¡°But I don¡¯t want to think about that right now. I¡¯m tired.¡±


    The lyrkress laid herself down atop a patch of grass. She tucked the fox into the space between the ground and her hips as she got comfortable and placed her head atop her arms.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire? I can¡¯t really move like this. I kinda think I might be stuck.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Then can you move over a bit? It¡¯s not very comfortable.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Thank¡ªwait, why not!?¡±


    ¡°Alfred said something about foxes and pillows,¡± she said, with another yawn.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what he said, but I¡¯m pretty sure this isn¡¯t what he meant! You¡¯re gonna crush me!¡± Sylvia started hitting Claire¡¯s back with her tail, but to no avail. The soft, bushy feather duster only made the halfbreed even more comfortable.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine. Catgirls don¡¯t break that easily.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a fox, not a catgirl!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Then can you move, please? I can¡¯t really breathe.¡±


    ¡°Just reinforce your skeleton with magic.¡±


    ¡°Huh? How did you know I could do that?¡±


    ¡°I knew a bard that does most of the same things you do.¡±


    ¡°Really? That¡¯s kinda weird. My class is really rare, and I didn¡¯t even know there was a non-Llystletein variant,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Besides, that doesn¡¯t make this any better! You can¡¯t just lie on top of me because you know I¡¯ll be okay!¡±


    ¡°Can you shut up? I just need a few minutes to fall asleep. I¡¯ll get you some fish when I wake up.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sur¡ªhey, wait a second! I already have a bunch of fish right here! And how the heck did you know that you could totally bribe me with fish anywa¡ª¡± Sylvia¡¯s face paled as she realised that the other girl had closed her eyes. ¡°Wait, wait! Stop! Don¡¯t fall asleep for real! What the heck, Claire! Claaaaaire!¡±


    ¡°Zzzz¡­¡±


    ¡°You do know people don¡¯t actually say ¡®Zzzz¡¯ in their sleep, right?¡±


    ¡°¡®Zzzz,¡¯ snored the halfbreed.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not any better! People who are asleep can¡¯t tell you that they¡¯re snoring, and you don¡¯t even actually snore!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t?¡± Claire opened her eyes and furrowed her brows. ¡°Both my parents snored.¡±


    My mother was especially loud. It didn¡¯t fit her image.


    ¡°Oh yeah, that reminds me¡­ I¡¯ve finally figured out what you are,¡± said Sylvia, after humming a quick tune to stop herself from suffocating. ¡°You lied when you said you weren¡¯t a deer! You¡¯re a cervitaur!¡±


    ¡°A moose is not a deer,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°It totally is!¡±


    ¡°A moose is not a deer,¡± repeated the halfbreed, with a hiss. And I¡¯m not really sure if I¡¯m really even a moose anymore either. I¡¯m¡­ a lot more like a horse than my father was.


    ¡°Okay, okay, fine. You¡¯re a moose, whatever! You¡¯re still a cervitaur!¡±


    ¡°What gave it away?¡± said the moose, with a mocking eye roll. ¡°Maybe the legs? Or, I don¡¯t know, the ears?¡±


    ¡°Huh? The ears were supposed to give it away?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Really? Are you sure? They¡¯re like three times the size of the biggest centaur ears I¡¯ve ever seen, deer, moose, or horse.¡±


    ¡°That just means mine are attractive.¡± Claire got up off the ground, lifted the fox to face level, and fluttered her ears, as if to show them off.


    If Sylvia had been a centaur, she likely would have found herself with a blush on her face. But though she was certainly a four-legged creature with big fuzzy ears, she was by no means a horse, or anything that even remotely resembled one. As a vixen, she was completely unaffected and even seemed to blink in confusion.


    ¡°Aren''t centaur ears supposed to be thicker near the middle? Yours are completely straight.¡±


    ¡°That just means mine are attractive.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t just say the exact same thing twice.¡±


    ¡°Well I did.¡±


    ¡°And plus, size and shape are basically the defining traits! Yours are so different they look almost nothing like centaur ears anymore!¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°They¡¯re still centaur ears. They¡¯re just very pretty centaur ears,¡± she insisted. ¡°My father managed to financially ruin someone once by selling him a painting of my ears.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm, somehow I think there are a few too many things wrong with that for me to know where I¡¯m supposed to start,¡± said the fox. ¡°But anyway! Your bottom half is completely uncovered! Who¡¯s indecent for not wearing clothes now?¡±


    ¡°You.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice. ¡°You were supposed to say you!¡±


    ¡°I did!¡±


    ¡°I mean me!¡±


    ¡°Yes, you are indecent.¡±


    ¡°Wait, this isn¡¯t going right at all! You were supposed to say that neither of us are indecent!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not indecent. My scales are covering everything.¡±


    ¡°My fur is covering everything too!¡±


    ¡°But what if you meet someone with an unhealthy interest in fur?¡±


    ¡°What if you run into someone that has a scale fetish?¡±


    ¡°Then I can just do this.¡±


    After taking a breath, Claire reverted her body to the form it had prior to her ascension.


    ¡°Your clothes still fit? That¡¯s not fair at all!¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± said Claire, with a small smile.


    ¡°Anyway! I¡¯m not indecent! All foxes look like this. We¡¯re not supposed to wear clothes.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh.¡± The halfbreed undid her transformation and put the fox back beneath her hips.


    ¡°We really aren''t! It¡¯d be way more lewd to put clothes on a fox! Imagine if some weirdo made me wear stockings or something! That¡¯d be really gross¡­ You¡¯d at least have to agree with that, right?¡±


    The vixen¡¯s query went unanswered. Looking back towards one of her bubbles, she noted that Claire¡¯s eyes were once again sealed shut¡ªand that her breathing had slowed.


    ¡°Claire¡­? Did you really fall asleep?¡± She waited for a few moments before breathing a sigh of relief. ¡°I guess that means it¡¯s finally time to escape.¡±


    A soft orange glow enveloped Sylvia¡¯s body as she shrank to fairy size. Ears and tail aside, all her fur vanished as her body plan shifted to one more akin to that of a human.


    ¡°So that¡¯s how you got out of those ropes¡­¡±


    ¡°Eek!¡± Sylvia reacted with a start and darted around half in panic as she spun around. ¡°What the heck!? You¡¯re still awake? What happened to falling asleep!¡±


    ¡°I was pretending,¡± said Claire, who immediately averted her gaze. ¡°And you¡¯re still naked.¡±


    ¡°Oh shut up! It¡¯s not like I wanted to be naked, I just don¡¯t have anything to wear right now! My clothes don¡¯t fit when I transform!¡±


    ¡°Indecent.¡± Claire chuckled lightly as she sat up and got to her feet.


    ¡°I¡¯m not indecent! I was just trying to escape!¡± said Sylvia, as she changed back into a fox.


    ¡°I believe you,¡± said Claire, as she cracked her neck. ¡°Let¡¯s go back to the den. I need to catch up on sleep.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re being really mean¡­ but okay. I¡¯ll show you right there!¡±


    Sylvia pranced off, with the other halfbreed following right behind her. The pace was quick at first, but the lyrkress slowed after a few minutes of travel.


    ¡°Claire? What¡¯s wrong?¡± asked the fox, as she turned around.


    ¡°I think I finally have an answer to your question.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Which question?¡±


    ¡°The one about what I¡¯m going to do when I leave.¡±


    ¡°When you leave...? Oh! That question! Wait, were you thinking about that this whole time?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s a really long time to be thinking about just one thing. So what did you come up with?¡±


    ¡°I was thinking about confronting my father, at first. Maybe even stabbing him in the face, if I got the chance.¡±


    ¡°Is that because of the whole sacrifice thing? I think that¡¯s what you said last time, right?¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Well uhmmm¡­ you said at first, so I guess that means you changed your mind, right? What are you going to do now?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to keep running away.¡±


    ¡°Huh? What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°Once I get out of here, I¡¯m going to find myself a nice villa in another country and stay as far away from him as I can,¡± explained the halfbreed. ¡°I can¡¯t deal with him, so I just won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ I don¡¯t really like dealing with my mom sometimes because she can get really weird when my dad¡¯s involved, but I¡¯m basically stuck with her and sometimes I remember all the creepy things she did like ten years ago. I don¡¯t really think it¡¯s going to be that easy.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± said Claire, with a faint smile. ¡°I don¡¯t know how long it¡¯ll take me to forget him, or the way he raised me.¡±


    She took a deep breath as she ran a finger across the icy shard in her chest and gazed upon the face reflected within it.


    For once, there was no anxiety.


    She was calm, calmer than she had been in a long, long time.


    ¡°But one day, I will.¡±

 Chapter 68/0 - Prologue: The Curse of the Withered Rose

    Chapter 68/0 - Prologue: The Curse of the Withered Rose


    Grand Magus Allegra Cedr stifled a yawn as she closed the door to her chambers behind her. The mage had long converted her sleeping quarters to a laboratory; a chamber for the mystic arts, filled with books and magical devices numbering in the thousands. Given the sheer value of the goods it contained, locking the room would have seemed like standard protocol, but the mage didn¡¯t bother. Its kitchen aside, Augustus Manor was effectively free from the concept of theft.


    All of the knights and soldiers that inhabited it were vetted, their backgrounds and characters thoroughly verified by the duke¡¯s most trusted men. No other visitors were allowed to freely wander the premises. Outsiders, even other members of Cadrian nobility, were accompanied at all times by at least two separate groups of guards. Such precaution seemed excessive, even for such a high ranking noble house, but it was easily justified if one was to consider that its owner served as the sole individual standing atop the military. Only the crown outranked him in theory. But in practice, they were equal. Many officers trusted more in the Duke of Death than they did the Eleven Horned King.


    Adding to the home¡¯s need for security was its secondary function. It was one of the three keys, the three floating fortresses that would protect the king¡¯s castle in the case that Valencia was ever to come under siege. Not even Allegra could dismiss the magitech involved in its making as anything but the work of an unparalleled genius. Coming from her, it was the highest of praise. As her title implied, the rabbit-eared professor was a true master of the mystic arts. There were hardly any more magi than there were countries, and for good reason. After all, achieving level 1000 in three distinct schools of sorcery was a nigh impossible task.


    Despite possessing military grade technology that far outranked that of the surrounding nations, the Cadrians refused to go on the offensive. In recent years, the king had focused his efforts on the prevention of conflict. The conquest of Sthenia was the last true war the Cadrian military had fought, with every other campaign thereafter amounting to no more than a minor skirmish or dispute.


    An advocate of peace herself, Allegra found his policies in line with her beliefs and subsequently the beliefs of the cottontail people as a whole. Seeking a position in his court was an obvious choice. And as there was no reason for any sane ruler to reject a magus¡¯ oath of allegiance, the rabbit-eared witch had found herself working as an advocate of harmony for many long years. But like all good things, her time in the king¡¯s court eventually came to an end.


    Even with a political incident under her belt, the rabbit lady remained in King Ferdinand¡¯s service, acting as both his proxy and his confidant. Through her magic, he was able to speak his mind to another without having to worry of any consequences. Still, despite the importance of her role, she was not allowed to be seen in court. Relations with Fornestead were sure to sour should the sponge-fearing monarch ever catch word of her continued presence. That was why she had sought asylum with House Augustus.


    As the king¡¯s nephew¡ªand one of his personal favourites¡ªthe duke was well within the monarch¡¯s good graces. But while their relationship was far from strained, it was also not necessarily free of grievances. They had opposing views, particularly when it came to policies that took the military into account. The duke would often descend from his floating castle to request that he be allowed to wage war. And the king would always deny him without fail. Still, even with their conflicting opinions, Cadria maintained a state of harmony. The duke had far too much on his plate to stage anything beyond the occasional casual complaint, even if he was disallowed from conquering the neighbouring lands.


    ¡°Excuse me, Ms. Cedr!¡±


    One of the servants, a lovely young centaur by the name of Mariabelle Phlence, called for the magus as she approached from the opposite side of the hall.


    ¡°Yes, Marie? What is it? Has Claire done something again?¡±


    The first thought that passed through the cottontail¡¯s mind was that the lady-in-waiting was about to announce her retirement. She was already 19, not to mention the daughter of a count. Like the lady of the house, Marie was overdue for marriage, not that Allegra herself was any better off. Even if she still looked like she was in her early twenties, the unfashionable witch that was the magus had long become a spinster.


    ¡°Not this time,¡± said the maid with a smile. ¡°The duke would like to see you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be right with him,¡± said Allegra.


    ¡°He should be in his study.¡±


    With a light curtsy, the maid excused herself, only to poke her head back around the corner almost immediately after she vanished.


    ¡°Oh, and Amereth has baked a very nice cake with some of the fruit she imported the other day. You may want to grab a slice before Alice convinces her to let her eat the whole thing.¡±


    ¡°In that case, I¡¯ll need to hurry,¡± said Allegra, who immediately turned around and headed for the kitchen.


    After greeting the chef and securing a slice of dessert, the cottontail magically cleaned off her lips and made for the stairs. The lady of the house passed her along the way. Claire was normally at least courteous enough to stop and greet her tutor, but she seemed to be in more of a rush than usual. Her eyes were absent and her expression was grim. It was a devastated look, one that reminded the magus of the face that the halfbreed made when she performed her mother¡¯s funeral rites. Consuming the flesh of one¡¯s deceased ancestors was a bizarre tradition in the rabbit lady¡¯s eyes, but the lamias and gorgons seemed to believe it a sacred practice and an important duty.


    Allegra was almost tempted to call out to the bluescale and help her through the potential emotional crisis, but she stopped herself short of acting on the impulse. She had already put off the duke for long enough, and any further delay was unlikely to be forgiven. In the first place, the magus doubted that the halfbreed was truly lamenting anything dire. She may as well have been practising the mask she needed to wear for the upcoming ball. In public, Claire was known as an innocent, fair maiden that wore her ever-fluctuating emotions on her sleeves, but Allegra was well aware that her true nature was far closer to that of her father¡¯s twisted ideal.


    Even if she was truly in distress, Allegra doubted that Claire needed her concern. The half-lamia had little difficulty bouncing back from her regrets, in part because of the education that had been ingrained into her person, and in part because of a particularly abnormal tendency. The lady often started talking to herself when she thought no one was looking, speaking to a set of what Allegra presumed to be imaginary friends. The magus had discovered it on a number of occasions, but refrained from ever bringing it up. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for noble ladies to have their minds in unhealthy places¡ªall of the isolation that came with the importance of their chastities was far from good for them.


    Though fashionably late, Allegra found herself stuck outside the duke¡¯s door upon her arrival. Cleveland, the butler standing by the entrance, delayed her for a full fifteen minutes before finally allowing her inside. Apparently, the warlord had needed a moment to himself.


    The mage had assumed that the duke was simply busy, as he so often was, but upon entering, she found him sprawled out on top of his desk with his face as red as a tomato. Virillius didn¡¯t seem to show the slightest bit of concern for the documents that he normally kept in perfect order. The pages were scattered across his room, with many thrown into total disarray, if not shredded to bits.


    Adding to the sense of disorder was the overwhelming stench of vekratt¡ªaged hay liquor. The room contained seven whole barrels, with at least three of them fully drained and subsequently destroyed. Vekratt was not the sort of drink that was meant to be consumed in high quantities. A single cup was more than enough to down even a seasoned drunkard. Even those that could hold their liquor would heavily dilute it, often mixing in three parts water or four parts wine to one part vekratt.


    Duke Augustus was known for his tolerance, but not even the country¡¯s greatest general was capable of remaining unaffected after consuming three entire barrels. His eyes were hazy, his body was limp and lifeless, and the platinum hair he usually kept well-combed had run wild. Even his breathing was off. His chest was heaving at irregular, uncontrolled intervals, as would that of a half-sedated beast¡¯s. If anyone unaware of his identity were to see him in such a state, they would likely assume him more monster than man, given the sheer bulk of his cervitaurian frame.


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    Seeing the proud warrior in such an appalling state left Allegra at a loss for words. He was not the sort of man to fall victim to the pleasures of wine, nor the sort to lose control of his inhibitions. There had to be a reason, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to inquire. The miserable look on his face was what cut her short. She felt as if she wasn¡¯t supposed to speak. At least not until he initiated the conversation.


    Wordlessly, Virillius pushed himself off the table, the hardwood creaking beneath him. It was a sturdy structure, but not by any means capable of supporting his weight. He didn¡¯t gesture for the cottontail to approach until he more or less straightened his back and fixed his expression.


    A goblet containing half a mouthful of the well-aged spirit came sliding across the table as soon as she was seated. Seeing no reason to refuse, the sorceress retrieved a jug from under her cloak, filled the rest of the cup with water, and brought the resulting concoction to her lips. Even if ridiculously strong and highly toxic, the alcoholic beverage was still a delicious drink. And if the Merdle Company labels featured on the barrels were to be trusted, each was likely worth ten times its weight in gold.


    ¡°The Merdle brew may be expensive, but it¡¯s worth it,¡± he said, as if reading her thoughts. ¡°It¡¯s the best Cadria has to offer.¡±


    ¡°I know you didn¡¯t summon me just so that we could chat over a drink, Virillius,¡± said the Grand Magus. ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± It took another three cups for the duke to finally continue. ¡°I want the ritual ground prepared for the curse of the withered rose.¡±


    The witch nodded after a brief pause. ¡°I can do that.¡±


    She was somewhat reluctant to carry out the ritual. The curse the duke named was a minor ailment in life, serving only to induce lethargy and mental weakness in those affected. But in death, it would bloom into an unparalleled nightmare. Any man afflicted by the horrifyingly inhumane rite would have his immortal soul pulled from Flux¡¯s cycle and imprisoned within his undying body. He would remain conscious, but incapable of influencing his actions as his body sought the blood of his loved ones. Once left with no clear targets, he would roam the lands and attack others at random. Those that perished with the curse applied had little to do but pray to be slain, for the sweet release of death to return them to the cycle. Else they would forever be stuck on the mortal plains, forced to wander and continue to unlive with the atrocities they were unable to prevent, the bone-chilling sins that they were forced to watch and feel first hand.


    ¡°Who do you want me to curse?¡± asked Allegra, as she adjusted her glasses.


    ¡°The Kryddarian army.¡±


    ¡°The entire army? That won¡¯t be possible without a sacri¡ª¡± Allegra¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°No! Virilius!¡±


    ¡°There is no other choice,¡± said the darkhorn.


    The behemoth of a man composed himself as he suddenly went from drunk to sober. He righted his posture, straightened his back, and rid himself of his slur in what almost seemed like a single heartbeat. The transition was so perfect that the bunny-eared magus found it almost impossible to discern which of the two was the lie.


    ¡°Kryddar has been gearing up for a war for the past year, but Ferdinand forbade me from taking action. And now, they¡¯ve started to show signs of aggression. There aren''t many ways we ca¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m talking about, Virilius! She¡¯s your daughter! Your own flesh and blood! Are you insane!?¡±


    Virilius swivelled the 180 proof drink around in his cup as he avoided her gaze. ¡°I¡¯m going to be honest with you, Allegra, I¡¯m not so sure myself. Not anymore, at least.¡± He raised the cup to his lips and gulped it down before continuing. ¡°It¡¯s become almost impossible to tell if my instincts are driving my decisions.¡± He slowly looked up at the rabbit girl, his brows creased and his eyes glazed. ¡°I know you¡¯re on the verge of becoming an aspect like Ferdinand and I. And I know how tempting it is with celestialhood right around the corner. But you mustn''t. Ascension is a mistake.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean the rumours House Carina spread are true? Are you really losing your mind?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I am,¡± said the duke, as he set down his glass and frowned. ¡°But it¡¯s getting hard to say.¡±


    ¡°What should I tell His Majesty?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± Virilius shook his head. ¡°We¡¯ve already worked out a contingency.¡±


    ¡°But I still thin¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough, Allegra. Just prepare the ritual. The Langgbjerns are coming to life, the barbarians are gathering in droves, and now even the Kryddarians are gathering their forces. There will be many, many losses if they happen to act in tandem. You should know that better than anyone. Your people live near the border.¡±


    ¡°Surely there have to be alternatives. She¡¯s your only daughter.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why it has to be her.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you make some villages disappear instead? I¡¯m sure you of all people would be able to pull it off. Perhaps even some traditional Cadrian diplomacy if you can¡¯t figure out anything else.¡±


    ¡°Allegra.¡±


    ¡°Think of something, Virilius. Anything.¡±


    ¡°Allegra.¡± He repeated her name in a harsher tone.


    ¡°I know. I know, but¡­¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been over this. This is her duty.¡±


    Allegra stayed silent, biting her lip as she pulled her hat over her eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯ve already discussed it with her. I¡¯ve framed it as her own fault, for rejecting all of the suitors that have come her way.¡±


    ¡°Can you imagine how she¡¯s feeling right now?¡± asked the bunny girl, her voice trembling.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need to. I know.¡±


    The two stared at each other, one with a teary, disgusted glare, and the other with cold, frozen eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯ll prepare the ritual grounds.¡±


    In the end, the magus was the first to break. She got up from her seat and exited the room without another word.


    ¡°Thank you, Allegra.¡±


    The centaur, on the other hand, remained at his desk, a fresh barrel of verkratt already at his lips.


    ___


    The two reconvened at dawn. They met at the ritual ground, the isolated room located within the core that kept the manor afloat. Wordlessly, they took their places around the circle. Allegra still wished to protest the duke¡¯s choice, but refrained from making a sound. A rite before a god was a sacred event. With the ceremony on the verge of commencement, speaking out of turn would be akin to an act of blasphemy.


    Had the ritual been any other, there would have been lines of servants and soldiers present to bear witness. But this time, the duke and the magus were the only two gathered. Word of the curse could not be allowed to spread. The last thing Virilius needed was for his plan to go up in smoke. Not when he was sacrificing so much.


    Claire entered the room once the two observers were settled. She was wearing a simple gown, a formal dress made from fine linens. The elegant design was one crafted for those that were to offer themselves to the gods. The slit in the middle of the chest piece served as a guide, an indicator of where she was to strike.


    Slowly, the lady walked to the center of the room and kneeled before the three objects placed within, a ceremonial dagger, a waxen candle, and a freshly picked rose.


    Allegra almost couldn¡¯t bring herself to watch as her pupil went through the Blueblooded Martyr¡¯s Ritual. But she kept her eyes focused. Knowing the rite to be Claire¡¯s last, Allegra silently stared as the halfbreed crafted the magic circle and withered the rose by holding it to the mystic flame. She kept watch over the entire process. But none of the words that the young ritual mage spoke so much as entered the cottontail¡¯s ears.


    The further along the ritual got, the more her heart sank. She couldn¡¯t help but remember when she had first met the child, nor the way her eyes had sparkled when she told her that she would be made a mage. Nothing she did could suppress the various memories she had of scolding her, of acting almost as would a surrogate mother, following Lady Violet¡¯s demise.


    Allegra had watched the child grow, from a hatchling to a beautiful young lady.


    She was practically her own daughter.


    And now she had to watch her die.


    She couldn¡¯t bring herself to do it.


    She desperately wanted to step in and interrupt the rite.


    To beg Virilius to reconsider.


    To do something, anything.


    But she couldn¡¯t.


    There were more lives at stake. More children to be lost, should the ritual be stopped.


    Her emotions getting the better of her, Allegra was so distracted that she almost didn¡¯t realise the ritual wasn¡¯t going as planned. It took blinking back her tears for the Grand Magus to realise that something had gone awry. The magical energies were out of line, and not for the usual reason.


    The ritual was being overwritten. Another that she didn¡¯t immediately recognize was beginning to take its place. For a moment, Allegra was at a loss. It wasn¡¯t any of the rites she had taught, and Claire had never been the type to study on her own.


    Though she was tempted to simply do nothing, Allegra was left with no choice but to intervene. If she didn¡¯t steer the Blueblooded Martyr¡¯s Ritual back on course, the whole manor would be caught in the backlash. All of the servants and soldiers would be afflicted by the curse.


    With trembling hands, she reached under her robe and produced her wand. She tried raising it and pointing it at the halfbreed before she could reach for the dagger she needed to mark the rite¡¯s completion.


    But Allegra found the limb incapable of rising beyond her waist. Looking down, she found it held in place by a feathered wing made of fresh blood.


    Eyes wide, she looked towards the duke, who simply shook his head as he kept his eyes forward. Stoic and empty as always. Completely devoid of the emotions that his actions betrayed.


    Closing her eyes, nodding, and smiling softly, the rabbit lady dropped her wand and waited for Builledracht¡¯s darkness to come.

 Volume 2 Art Gallery

    Here''s art for the second volume. One piece is complete, several others are planned.


    Volume 2 Cover.


    Be warned that paying attention to the details may spoil a few things.


    Here''s a version without the title text.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Fairy form Sylvia - Ruler for Scale


    Fairy form Sylvia - Blank Background


    Claire and Sylvia by a Campfire


    More coming soon!


    Artist: SHIUW0</a>

 Chapter 69 - The Cursed Effigy

    Chapter 69 - The Cursed Effigy


    Claire beheld at the scene in front of her with her head cocked and her arms crossed, the latter action only made possible by her ethereal form. Together with the disheveled human standing beside her, she hovered in a small room made of tiles, staring blankly as the man¡¯s body lay face down in a porcelain tub large enough for him, but far too small for even a young centaur. A trail of bubbles slowly leaked from his mouth as he remained perfectly still, a surefire sign that his submarine expedition was not going as planned.


    When she next blinked, everything but the man and his bubbles went through a sudden change. The tub turned blue and grew to over ten times its previous size, while the room¡¯s walls vanished in favour of a wooden fence. They were outside, in a yard, where he was once again drowning his heart out.


    The next shift produced a similar image, albeit with the homely backdrop replaced by a beach. Yellow-beaked gulls were perched over his unconscious frame, pecking at it as they would have a piece of stale bread.


    ¡°Swimming. Important.¡±


    Two words appeared in the back of her mind as the man turned around and spoke at length. But neither the exposition nor the summary were necessary. The slideshow had more than spoken for itself.


    ¡°Learn?¡± Another sentence was summed up into a single word, a question the halfbreed answered with a nod.


    Lamias were semi-aquatic. The race and all its related subspecies were capable of taking to the water if they were unable to find lands that suited them. As a baseline, the average individual could hold her breath for roughly two straight hours. It was a far cry from the eternity that a more specialised breed could spend beneath the waves, but impressive nonetheless.


    In a similar vein, centaurs and by extension cervitaurs were also well acclimated to a life by the sea. Their powerful legs made them excellent swimmers, capable of crossing large bodies of water with shores as distant as the horizon. As far as her bloodline was concerned, Claire was meant to be an excellent swimmer, a marine athlete extraordinaire. But for reasons beyond her understanding, she remained completely and utterly incapable.


    The skill had eluded her for as long as she could remember. She had tried picking it up in the bath, at a number of lakes, and even in the ocean, all to no avail. All sorts of tutors had tried to remedy the issue, but not even Amereth, the shark lady and Ryllian native that served as the manor¡¯s resident chef, was able to provide any meaningful guidance. According to her¡ªand everyone else¡ªfloating was meant to come naturally, but the halfbreed would unconditionally sink straight to the bottom of any body of water she entered.


    Still, she was willing to give learning the skill another shot. The mysterious ghost had already managed to teach her how to use artifacts, and he had even boosted her Unarmed Combat Mastery level during one of their previous encounters. There was no reason to think that he would be unable to impart the knowledge she needed to keep her head above the water.


    But¡­ didn¡¯t he say something about teaching me ¡®real martial arts?¡¯ What happened to that?


    She raised her fists as they shifted to the usual dark room and punched the air a few times before cocking her head at him. He didn¡¯t seem to get what she meant right away, but a few repetitions, with a fancier set of actions accompanying each, eventually led him to snap his fingers in realisation.


    ¡°Martial arts?¡±


    Claire nodded as the words appeared in her head, to which the man responded by crossing his arms and leaning back on the empty space behind him. After what seemed like a full minute of contemplation, he shrugged, smiled, and nodded.


    Clapping his hands, he teleported his body into the room and activated the artifact that was the glowing box. A phantom copy of the device that manipulated it appeared right in front of her, as it had during their previous session. Several words she failed to understand appeared on the screen as the rectangle flashed. She recognized the foreign-looking letters, but the terms that they formed failed to register. The halfbreed tried pointing at them with her brow furrowed, but they faded before she was able to catch the unkempt phantom¡¯s eye.


    She was a bit annoyed, but turned back to the artifact¡¯s display nonetheless. It couldn¡¯t be helped. There was no way for her to effectively communicate the information she wanted, and she doubted that it was anything of note in the first place. He likely would have gone over it if it was.


    The scene that she had been expecting finally came after a series of bright black screens. The detailed environment and the oddly imperceptible character were both present, only this time, the artistic rendition bore a brand new form. It was wearing a different cloak and seemed to have an elongated body that started with a pair of hooves and ended in a soft, silky tail. A sense of familiarity bubbled up from within her, but she still couldn¡¯t quite pinpoint its identity. It was just out of reach; she could feel it against her fingertips, but she couldn¡¯t quite grasp it. Something in the back of her mind, a feeling akin to a sense of foreboding, was stopping the last piece from falling into place.


    ¡°Practice.¡±


    Log Entry 1771


    Detect Force Magic has reached level 14.


    Claire nodded and reached for the non-existent device in front of her. She knew it wasn¡¯t there, and that she couldn¡¯t touch it. But her hands naturally settled on its various parts nonetheless.


    The man started with simple inputs before switching to more complicated ones after confirming she could still keep up. Unlike the previous session, which was spent smashing an opponent with a series of different moves, he did little but repeat the same ridiculously complex sequence. The person on the screen was throwing a fuzzy monkey-like creature into the air, beating it half to death, and stomping it into the ground, over and over and over again. Until the artifact that kept the fighters imprisoned suddenly went dark.


    A very confused Claire glanced at the spirit, who slowly shook his head as he pointed at a much smaller device featuring a set of glowing red numbers. She didn¡¯t know what ¡°11:56¡± was supposed to mean, so she spun back around, but found the man no longer present. Like the room, the phantom had vanished, leaving her to fall through the darkness, with nothing to show for any of her efforts.


    Bells started going off in her head as the pitch black abyss was suddenly flooded with light. When she next blinked, she found it replaced by a light brown ceiling featuring a thick net of roots. A ball of fluff was standing on top of her chest, actively pawing at her face. The soft, squishy pads were oddly comforting, so much so that she would likely have drifted back to dreamland, if not for the noise assaulting her mind.


    ¡°Claire! Wake up! Come on, hurry! You¡¯re going to get turned if you keep sleeping!¡±


    Pushing the fuzzy limb away with her tail, Claire twisted her face away from the fox and placed it in her arms. ¡°Five more minutes,¡± she said, with a small smile.


    Log Entry 1772


    Basic Force Resistance has reached level 4.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have five minutes! The turn¡¯s already about to start!¡± Sylvia leapt over the lyrkress¡¯ tail and started pushing down on her ears. ¡°Wait a second! You¡¯re just messing with me, aren''t you! I bet you¡¯re only saying that because of the thing yesterday!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said the half-lamia, as she sat up.


    Despite the lack of a fox-shaped pillow, Claire¡¯s waist felt surprisingly comfortable, no doubt thanks to the bubble the bard had made her the previous night. The magical mass of air had padded her hips and kept them from bending at an odd angle.


    ¡°I knew it! You don¡¯t even look sleepy. You were totally just faking it to mess with me.¡±


    Claire took a moment to make her eyelids droop as she leaned forward, turned her gaze distant, and repeated herself. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Wait a second! What the heck? Now you look just like you did last night! That¡¯s gotta be a skill or something, right?¡±


    ¡°Not at all,¡± said Claire, as she took off her mask.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Washing her face with a stream of stale water, the lyrkress dusted off the cloak she had donned the previous night and stretched her upper body. She would have liked to loosen up her lower half as well, but the burrow was too short and lacking in legroom.


    ¡°So what are we gonna do today?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°Oh wait, what was your quest again? I think you said something about it yesterday but you didn¡¯t actually tell me all that much because we were too busy talking about all your adventures and stuff.¡±


    Claire smiled softly as she recalled the previous evening. It was the first time the two had spoken in comparable amounts. Urged on by the curious fox, she had recounted her exploits in all their gory details.


    ¡°I have to kill lords,¡± said the cervitaurian snake. ¡°Three of them.¡±


    ¡°Kill lords? Already? Wow, Al¡¯s really making you pick up the pace. So which ones are you up against, other than the mirewulf? ¡®Cause there¡¯s like a whole bunch of them. Oh, and are you gonna go right now? Err¡­ maybe not, since you should probably have breakfast first.¡±


    Claire nodded as she popped open her authority skill and used it to summon a batch of bread. Watching the food form in front of her left her feeling strange. Something seemed to be bubbling up within her core. The bizarre sensation came with a distinct sound, sourced from between her legs and flippers. Is that my stomach?


    ¡°Why is my stomach rumbling?¡± she muttered, under her breath.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that just because you¡¯re hungry? It¡¯s either that, or you¡¯re sick, and you don¡¯t really look sick to me.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t get hungry.¡±


    The seemingly logical argument was rejected with a frown as Claire pressed the tip of her tail against the part of her that was complaining.


    ¡°Huh? What do you mean? Everyone gets hungry,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I¡¯m half lamia. Lamias don¡¯t get hungry.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t really make any sense. How do you know when you¡¯re supposed to eat if you don¡¯t get hungry? You could randomly start passing out and you¡¯d have no idea why!¡±


    ¡°We start to lose our strength if we don¡¯t eat, and if we wait long enough, our health regeneration will start slowing down, but that¡¯s about it,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Starving yourself like that is just plain unhealthy... You know you die if you don¡¯t eat enough, right?¡±


    ¡°Only if you let your health regeneration go into the negatives.¡±


    ¡°It goes negative!? I really don¡¯t think it¡¯s supposed to ever get into the negatives! At least not because you didn¡¯t eat!¡±


    Claire shrugged.


    ¡°Oh, I know!¡± Sylvia¡¯s tail straightened as her ears perked up. ¡°It¡¯s probably because your body changed after you ascended, and moose snakes get hungry like normal people.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± Claire nodded. ¡°But I don¡¯t know if that was my stomach. I don¡¯t even know where it is.¡±


    ¡°Well if that¡¯s the part that was rumbling, it¡¯d have to be your stomach, right? Where else would it be?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°But you touched it! You have to at least kind of know, right?¡±


    ¡°My guts spilled out of here yesterday,¡± she said, as she pointed to the humanoid part of torso.


    ¡°Oh uhmmm¡­ well I guess that¡¯s one way to find out. Wait, if that¡¯s where your guts are, then where are your lungs?¡±


    ¡°Same place.¡±


    ¡°Really? Then what¡¯s the rest of you for? Is it just all muscle? I don¡¯t think so...¡± Sylvia started pressing her paws against the half-lamia¡¯s underside as she continued. ¡°I think you might just have more than one stomach or something. And maybe more other organs too.¡±


    ¡°Dunno.¡±


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­ How do you use the bathroom?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Huh? What do you mean you don¡¯t use the bathroom? You can¡¯t just not use the bathroom! Holding it in is really unhealthy, and my dad even said that you¡¯ll explode if you never go.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you have Llystletein Authority?¡±


    ¡°You mean the skill? The one that lets you make all sorts of food and stuff?¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Mhm! Mine¡¯s maxed,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I got it when I was really young and I use it all the time even though fresh fish tastes way better than everything on the menu. Wait, are you saying that it¡¯s what¡¯s making it so you don¡¯t have to go to the bathroom?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    ¡°Woah¡­ I¡¯m going to need to go bug Al to get that added to mine. I can¡¯t believe he was hiding something that useful this whole time! I¡¯m so mad I¡¯m gonna chew on his hat when he isn¡¯t looking,¡± huffed the fox. ¡°Oh wait¡­ maybe it¡¯s on purpose. I need to use the bathroom to water things for my chores¡­¡±


    Claire frowned as she more or less ignored the furball¡¯s rant. Speaking of the authority skill reminded her that it was supposed to have been upgraded, but it looked no different at a glance. There weren¡¯t any new lists, categories, or entries anywhere to be seen.


    ¡°How am I supposed to access the library¡¯s records?¡± asked the lyrkress, as she swallowed a freshly baked piece of stale bread.


    ¡°The records? Ummm¡­ you¡¯re gonna have to find a terminal. I don¡¯t actually know where any of them are because Al likes moving them around all the time.¡±


    ¡°Useless.¡±


    ¡°Hey! I¡¯m not useless! I can help you lots if you just tell me which lords you need to kill.¡±


    ¡°Holt, slough, and chasm.¡±


    ¡°The holt¡¯s gonna be really tough¡­ It¡¯s super good at magic and can basically use the entire forest and stuff against you, so I think you¡¯re probably best saving that one for last. The lord of the slough isn¡¯t all that strong, but you should probably start with the lord of the chasm.¡±


    ¡°What kind of monster is it?¡±


    She picked up a second piece of bread as she finished the first. Her stomach was still bothering her, even though she had consumed a full meal¡¯s worth of food. Is it because I¡¯m bigger now?


    ¡°I¡¯ve never actually seen it because it¡¯s on the next floor, but everyone says that it¡¯s a big fish that can jump really high and swim on land.¡±


    ¡°Glutton.¡±


    ¡°Hey! I mean um¡­ you¡¯re not wrong, but can you really blame me? Just imagine how tasty it¡¯d be! I¡¯ve eaten all sorts of fish, but I¡¯ve never eaten a fish that can swim through rocks! I bet it¡¯ll come pre-salted!¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°What¡¯s the lord of the slough?¡±


    ¡°Do you remember the frogs you used to break Grant¡¯s stuff? The Lord of the Slough is just a really really really big one of those, but he only kind of exists.¡±


    ¡°Explain.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s kind of like a ghost, but not really? You¡¯ll get it when you see it.¡±


    Claire shrugged.


    ¡°Anyway, I really think we should check out the lord of the chasm first since I think my dad knows a lot about it. He talks about it sometimes when he visits, so he should be able to give you lots of info, way more than I can give you on the other two.¡±


    The lyrkress paused for a moment to consider her options. Based on the observations she had derived from the werebears and centaurs, she was at least relatively confident that she had finally become strong enough to handle the citadel¡¯s combatants. At the very least, she would likely be able to mount an escape if she put her mind to it, courtesy of a certain pair of make-believe animals.


    ¡°Fine. But I want to stop by the tailor¡¯s first. He might¡¯ve finished early.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah, Grant was supposed to do that thing for you. How¡¯d you manage to convince him anyway?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see when we visit your father.¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ somehow I have a really bad feeling about this.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. It¡¯ll just be a harmless prank.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t just tell me not to worry! You¡¯re just making me even more worried!¡±


    ¡°Not my problem.¡± Having finished the last piece of bread that had come with her plate, Claire transformed her legs and slithered towards the cave¡¯s entrance. ¡°Hurry up. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fine,¡± said Sylvia with a sigh. ¡°But I¡¯m not helping you with my mom if whatever you do makes her go crazy!¡±


    Climbing out of her makeshift home, the fox hopped in front of her companion and led her towards the older fox¡¯s abode.


    ___


    Claire


    Health: 2345/2345


    Mana: 4627/4627


    Health Regen: 630/hour (1260/hour)


    Mana Regen: 3306/hour


    Ability Scores - 82 Points Available


    - Agility: 379


    - Dexterity: 345


    - Spirit: 311


    - Strength: 290


    - Vitality: 315


    - Wisdom: 551


    Racial Class: Frostblight Lyrkress - Level 50.37


    - Paralyzing Gaze - Level 6.65


    - Ice Manipulation - Level 1.73


    - Lyrkrian Shapeshifting - Level 3.92


    - Thermodynamic Regulation - Level 4.37


    Primary Class: Llystletein Bloodthief - Level 53.88


    - Assassinate - Level 11.39


    - Bloodthief - Level 9.83


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 8.73


    - Envenom - Level 13.08


    - Manathief - Level 9.32


    - Phantom Blade - Level 5.95


    Secondary Class: Llystletein Force Mage - Level 41.31


    - Basic Force Resistance - Level 4.01


    - Catgirl Detector V. 0.32 - Level 4.14


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 14.72


    - Force Manipulation - Level 13.16


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 2.50


    - Axe Mastery - Level 1.04


    - Club Mastery - Level 11.35


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 11.26


    - Dancing - Level 7.35


    - Digging - Level 11.99


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 5.24


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 17.12


    - Marish - Level 19.07


    - Sewing - Level 1.42


    - Sneaking - Level 14.34


    - Spear Mastery - Level 5.46


    - Sword Mastery - Level 8.38


    - Throwing - Level 7.26


    - Unarmed Combat Mastery - Level 14.53

 Chapter 70 - The Cursed Effigy II

    Chapter 70 - The Cursed Effigy II


    ¡°We¡¯re here!¡± Sylvia walked up to the magical door and gave it a knock as she continued to speak, her voice as singsongy as ever. ¡°I think you already know that though, since you¡¯ve been here like two or three times already. Wait, was it two? Or was it three?¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Claire paused for a moment as she tried and subsequently failed to cross her arms. She still wasn¡¯t used to the shard of ice stuck in her chest. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you would take me straight here.¡±


    ¡°Hm? What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t try to prank me. Or make me chase you.¡±


    ¡°Oh! Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve got something super fun in mind. I¡¯m just saving it for when we head to the third floor because it¡¯s gonna take a while and stopping in the middle would be no fun.¡±


    Hardly any time had passed since the pair had left the burrow; it had only taken them a few minutes to beeline their way over to the older fox¡¯s afternoon abode. Claire didn¡¯t bother using her ears to inspect the ancient tree. The interior was a separate space, completely cut off from the rest of the world; she knew that she wouldn¡¯t be able to hear inside of it no matter how hard she strained.


    ¡°Is he even here?¡± asked Claire, after a brief delay.


    The fox pointed to one of the thicker boughs near the tree¡¯s base. ¡°I think so. You see that little rectangle thingy carved into the branch up there?¡±


    ¡°The one with the clouds drawn on top of it?¡±


    ¡°Yeah! That¡¯s his chimney, and if the cloud thingies are there, it means he¡¯s got his fireplace going, so I think he¡¯s probably home.¡±


    ¡°Then why isn¡¯t he answering the door?¡±


    ¡°Dunno. He normally answers really fast because he knows I¡¯m just gonna barge in if he takes too long.¡±


    ¡°I was busy,¡± said a raspy, masculine voice. The door opened right as Sylvia reached for its knob. ¡°What do you want, cub?¡±


    ¡°Not me, her,¡± said the vixen, as she gestured at the half-snake.


    ¡°Who now?¡± Peering past the familiar face, Grant cocked a brow as he slowly craned his neck upwards. Only after noticing a familiar pair of ears did he finally nod. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you,¡± he said. ¡°You look different. I hope this doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯ve forgotten your part of the deal.¡±


    ¡°I still remember.¡±


    ¡°Good, good. I can hardly wait,¡± said the silvery-orange fox, with a twisted smile.


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ I¡¯m not really sure what you guys have planned, but I¡¯m really starting to get the feeling that it¡¯s not a good idea,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°It¡¯s a great idea. Dixie won¡¯t see it coming,¡± said Grant. ¡°Now come on in.¡±


    ¡°Huh? You¡¯re actually inviting us in?I thought you hated torches, Grant! Why the heck are you and Claire on such good terms all of a sudden?¡±


    ¡°Shut up and get in the house already. All the warmth¡¯s going to leak out if I have to leave this damned door open.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m really starting to think that I shouldn¡¯t let Claire meet dad¡­¡± muttered Sylvia, as she made her way inside.


    Unlike her canid companion, the lyrkress didn¡¯t enter right away, opting instead to give the door a blank stare. The house was so tiny that even a dwarf would have had trouble labeling it as spacious. There was simply no way for her to squeeze in with all her horsier bits present and accounted for. She was much taller than she was back when she was entirely humanoid, and crouching didn¡¯t reduce her height by nearly as much. The moose-like chest attached to her hips was unable to bend or contort in any meaningful way.


    Turning into a lamia, however, solved the problem immediately. As a full-blown snake girl, she could almost get herself down to fox height. The shard in her chest was the only thing that stopped her from glueing herself to the floor.


    Log Entry 1773


    Lyrkrian Shapeshifting has reached level 4.


    Once inside, she curled her tail up, so as to not occupy the entire living room, before finally starting to speak. ¡°Is it done?¡±


    ¡°Yes and no,¡± said Grant.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Turns out there was no need for me to make any adjustments in the first place.¡±


    The lyrkress tilted her head, which prompted the old fox to chuckle as he went further into the house.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go get it. Stay there and don¡¯t touch anything.¡±


    Claire, being Claire, immediately started looking around the room for something to touch, but found nothing of interest. The tool rack that she had spotted during both their previous encounters was empty. So that¡¯s why he didn¡¯t open the door right away.


    ¡°I wonder what he meant. Grant¡¯s usually pretty good at being reliable and stuff. I wonder if it¡¯s related to the cloak¡¯s ability? Maybe it¡¯s one of the super nifty ones that transforms you into something completely different when you put it on!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing that fancy,¡± said Grant, as he returned from his workshop. ¡°But you really should¡¯ve tried the damned thing before you handed it to me.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Because of its ability, you numbskull,¡± said the fox. ¡°It doesn¡¯t need to fit you.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s not one of the super cool ones then?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°Dad told me about one that could turn you into a giant snake! Oh actually Claire¡¯s already kind of a giant snake already, huh? I guess that wouldn¡¯t really help that much.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fairly certain Zelos only told you that in jest. I¡¯ve never heard of a runecloak with that sort of ability,¡± said Grant.


    ¡°Really?¡± Sylvia¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Does that mean that they can¡¯t make you shoot beams out of your eyes either?¡±


    ¡°They can do that,¡± said Grant.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°But then why can¡¯t they do the other thing!?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not technically impossible, but you¡¯d have to be an idiot to make something like that. These take months to craft, and nobody with a brain would waste that much time on imbuing one with something so useless,¡± explained the tailor.


    ¡°So does that mean that it can do something other than turning her into an even bigger snake?¡±


    ¡°It does have something or other to do with transformation, but not what you¡¯re thinking,¡± said Grant. He handed Claire the garment as he continued. ¡°It can turn into whatever clothes you want. The size is adjustable too.¡±


    ¡°Wait, that¡¯s it!? That¡¯s so boring!¡± complained Sylvia. ¡°I thought you said it didn¡¯t have a useless ability! That totally sucks! The snake thing was way better!¡±


    ¡°I like it,¡± said the bluescale.


    ¡°Then you¡¯re less of a numbskull than I thought. Not smart enough to actually try the thing on before handing it off, but better than the cub, at least.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fiercely intelligent,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you are¡­¡± The older fox wrinkled his brow. ¡°You should try to see if you can get that thing to work, and let Sylvia watch. Damned cub needs to see how much of an idiot she is.¡±


    ¡°Hey! I¡¯m not an idiot! And stop talking about me like I¡¯m not here!¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re not just an idiot. You¡¯re a stupid cheeky brat is what you are. Spoiled all the way rotten.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a brat either! You just hate everything because you¡¯re old!¡±


    Ignoring the two canids, Claire threw the leather garment over her shoulders. Even with her newfound size, it was still too big for her. The back half more or less fit, as it settled atop her snakier bits, but the front half ran all the way to the ground. The sides were the worst offenders; the garment was so wide that it threatened to fall right off her shoulders lest she wore the hood.


    Securing the cloak in place with her hand, the bluescale took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Without a direct prompt from its wearer, the runecloak remained as would any other article of clothing. It didn¡¯t suddenly spring to life, nor did it immediately bestow some sort of magical effect. There weren¡¯t even any instructions beamed into the back of her mind, as would often happen with skills.


    The complete lack of directions was daunting, but the lyrkress wasn¡¯t particularly surprised. She had secretly borrowed a number of her father¡¯s magic mantles whenever he left the key to his vault on his desk, so she more or less knew how they worked. Starting up the unintuitive device was as easy as feeding her mana through the spell woven into the leather. The magical letters that ran along the edges lit up and glowed a bright blue-green as the overcoat began to flutter, its edges raising themselves off the ground.


    But that was as far as her knowledge took her. All her father¡¯s cloaks had demonstrated their effects immediately upon activation. Hers, on the other hand, almost seemed to be idling, as if awaiting an order. She tried to alter it by calling a familiar gown to memory, but the cloak failed to respond. Mental commands seemed equally as ineffective. Not the most surprising result, given its non-sentience and her lack of telepathy.


    Nothing happened until she tried molding her mana, at which point the garment suddenly started to contort and twist with violent, haphazard movements. Its sides jerking in opposite directions, the cloth wrapped itself around her upper body and dug into her ribs and neck without mercy. She wasn¡¯t freed from the strangulation until the leather finally gave out and tore itself in half.


    ¡°What the hell are you doing, you idiot!? Stop flooding it with your mana, it only needs a drop!¡± shouted Grant.


    ¡°Tell me that earlier next time.¡±


    Maybe that¡¯s why the one that was supposed to make you fly kept throwing me into the ceiling.


    Claire grimaced as she brought a hand to her throat and took a few deep breaths. She wasn¡¯t out of air, but she was feeling rather uncomfortable. The lyrkress had never liked having things around her neck, be they necklaces or otherwise.


    ¡°Wow, what the heck was that!? It totally just exploded! I didn¡¯t know clothes could explode!¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not supposed to,¡± said Grant.


    Shrugging, Claire directed her eyes back towards the cloak, the two halves of which had already started wriggling together and reforming like a slime. The tinier bits and pieces didn¡¯t emulate the behaviour, opting instead to crumble to dust. After waiting for the process to complete, the enlightened force mage picked the cloak back up and gave it another try.


    Her second attempt went a lot more smoothly than the first. Abiding by Grant¡¯s instructions and using only the tiniest bit of mana, Claire began tweaking its form. She started small; the first thing she changed, with some difficulty, was the hood. Slits were added to its sides so that her ears could be given the breathing room they needed. She didn¡¯t get it right on her first try, but each repetition brought her closer to the desired result. Once satisfied, after a dozen iterations, she moved on to adjusting its size to better fit her lamian proportions. Another painfully slow process.


    ¡°Oooohhhh! I get it now! She¡¯s always going to have something to wear even if she has to shapeshift and stuff.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± said Grant.


    ¡°Wait! If I had that, then I could change back and forth without having to worry about being naked!¡±


    ¡°Indecent,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Oh, shut up! I¡¯m not indecent, foxes just don¡¯t wear clothes!¡±


    ¡°Fairies do.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t do anything about not having clothes if I don¡¯t carry them around while I¡¯m a fox. It¡¯s really not my fault, so you can¡¯t say I¡¯m indecent.¡±


    ¡°Yes I can.¡±


    ¡°Shush, Claire! Leave me alone already,¡± huffed Sylvia.


    ¡°No need to be jealous, cub. You can have it if she dies.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not dying,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Wow Grant, that¡¯s really grim¡­ It¡¯s not like she¡¯s got that high a chance of dying anyway, right? The quest Al gave her sounds pretty hard, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s gonna be that bad¡­¡±


    ¡°Dying is just what torches do,¡± said Grant. ¡°Especially with what¡¯s going to happen when she runs into Zelos.¡±


    ¡°Wait, this again? Holy crap, you two, what the heck is going on with my dad!?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°There¡¯s no way it¡¯s nothing!¡±


    All the response elicited was a pair of smiles; neither the fox-man nor the snake-lady said a word.


    ¡°Seriously! What the heck is going on? Why are you two getting along so well anyway!? It¡¯s like you¡¯re old friends or something! I thought you hated torches, Grant! And Claire¡¯s the one that broke your shovel and lost your other thingy. I don¡¯t even remember what the other thingy was, but she never gave it back!¡±


    ¡°It was a hammer,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Tools are replaceable. The thing she¡¯s going to do? That¡¯ll make a memory that¡¯ll last forever.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m really starting to think I shouldn¡¯t bring her to the Citadel.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay. I can kill the slough lord first.¡±


    ¡°Oh, look at you. Lords already? You¡¯re moving up in the world.¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°And here I was thinking you were just going to be another lazy gremlin, like Zelos and his friends.¡± The fox stood up on his hind legs and crossed his arms. ¡°You know, all the torches that I had to guide back in my day were weaklings. Half of them had high enough stats to plaster the lords by running at them, but the¡ª¡±


    ¡°Grant! We¡¯re not here for your super boring lectures!¡±


    ¡°So as I was saying, they were too obsessed with staying safe to take any risks. Even the ones with high dexterity were clumsy as hel¡ªyeowch!¡±


    The older fox jumped high enough to hit the ceiling as the vixen bit down on his tail.


    Not a bad solution. I guess Cadrians aren''t the only ones that believe in violence.


    ¡°What was that for, cub!?¡± screamed the old man, as he clutched his rear.


    ¡°You ignored me and kept talking!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that justifies biting me.¡±


    ¡°If we let you talk, you¡¯re gonna start droning on forever. I¡¯ve sat through more than enough of your lectures already!¡± With a huff, Sylvia twisted her head away and walked out the door. ¡°Come on, Claire! We¡¯re leaving! We¡¯re gonna be stuck here for hours if you let him get started!¡±


    Looking between the two foxes, Claire shrugged, nodded at the tailor, and slithered after her guide.


    ¡°Ungrateful cub! Wait until your mother hears about this!¡±


    ¡°Like I care! Mom¡¯s not going to yell at me just because you¡¯re gonna be a jerk and complain! I¡¯m all grown up already! Since two cycles ago!¡±


    Once Claire was outside, Sylvia gave the old man one last shout and slammed the door shut.

 Chapter 71 - The Cursed Effigy III

    Chapter 71 - The Cursed Effigy III


    Claire transformed back into her lyrkrian form and adjusted her clothes to better fit her frame as she stepped away from the old fox¡¯s den. Expanding the cloak was just as difficult as drilling ear holes into the sides of its hood. It took a full minute for her to get it down to her knees.


    ¡°Done?¡± Sylvia waited for the half-horse to nod before continuing. ¡°So what was all that about anyway? When the heck did you get on Grant¡¯s good side!?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± said the blueblood.


    ¡°But you guys were totally getting along super well just now! It was like you¡¯d known each other forever. You were acting the same way all the older foxes act around him.¡±


    Claire pulled her hood over her face to hide a small smile. ¡°We were just messing with you.¡±


    ¡°Huh? What do you mean, you were just messing with me!?¡± The fox turned around and blinked a few times with her tail frozen in place behind her.


    ¡°I meant what I said.¡±


    ¡°But when did you guys find the time to put that whole prank together!? It was super complicated, you guys were even syncing up your dialogue and stuff. Remembering all those lines must¡¯ve taken forever!¡±


    ¡°We didn¡¯t memorize any lines. It was all improvised.¡±


    ¡°What the heck!?¡± Sylvia¡¯s ears flattened for a moment before springing back up. ¡°Ugh, fine, whatever! I don¡¯t care anymore. Let¡¯s just play the game I had in mind so I can vent my frustrations on you, er, I mean have lots of fun and get over it!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll just be even more frustrated,¡± said Claire. ¡°I¡¯m going to win.¡±


    ¡°No you won¡¯t! You¡¯ll never catch me this time!¡±


    Humming a note, Sylvia wrapped her legs in a veil of wind and dived into the foliage. The orange blur was so quick that the bluescale was unable to keep track of her, even with her eyesight enhanced. It didn¡¯t help that the plants didn¡¯t react to her touch. She phased straight through them like some sort of incorporeal ghost. Catgirl detector was the only thing that allowed the half-lamia to keep track of the vixen¡¯s position.


    The fox¡¯s speed was certainly impressive, but it was by no means the driving force that secured her victory. That title belonged instead to her magic. The tune she sang whilst fleeing echoed throughout the forest and caused it to distort as would an image painted beneath the surface of a lake. Each step the lyrkress took was a ripple, a crease that caused the environment to shake, warp, and tremble. Her eyes were screaming at her, complaining there was nothing but nausea inbound, but the effect on her vision remained far from the worst offender. Her sense of touch was worse off; her feet were unsteady and her tail was deprived of all sensation. She couldn¡¯t tell if it was slithering along the forest floor or floating three feet in the air.


    Claire tried covering her ears, but the fox¡¯s hymn continued to echo in the back of her mind. Each repetition of the chorus would come with an increase in the volume, courtesy of the ever-increasing number of trees joining the choir. Their trunks sang in a deep baritone and their leaves a striking soprano. Like a practiced ensemble, their voices were perfectly synced, harmonized. Even their roots came to life humming like the strings of a harp as they were struck against the ground. An instrumental background, a series of chimes and xylophone-like rattles, flooded her mind as the old oaks moved in front of her and blocked her path.


    A particularly ancient tree, the singer with the deepest voice, extended a pair of branches as she stopped in place. Atop one sat a bunch of dark blue berries, each the same size as the tip of her thumb. The other presented a shiny green fruit that vaguely seemed to resemble an apple, both in shape and size.


    Somewhat confused, the halfbreed eventually settled on the heftier green object. Picking it up with one hand, she carefully glanced at its waxy skin before throwing it at another member of the chorus.


    Log Entry 1774


    Catgirl Detector V. 0.32 has reached level 5.


    ¡°Ow!¡±


    Alongside the anticipated dull thunk came a yelp of pain. The fox hidden inside of the canopy fell straight down as her fur went from transparent to its usual orange shade. Rubbing her head with her front paws, she got up onto her hind legs and begrudgingly moped over to her assailant, singing all the way. ¡°How did you know I was there!? I was supposed to be invisible!¡± The impromptu lyrics melded into the song, as if they should have always been one of its parts. ¡°And you shouldn¡¯t have been able to hear me either since my voice should¡¯ve been coming from somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°I just knew,¡± said Claire. She could barely hear herself think.


    ¡°And why did you throw it anyway? You¡¯re supposed to eat it, not throw it! Throwing it is just a huge waste of all the mana I used to make it.¡±


    ¡°All the more reason to throw it away.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on¡­¡± Sylvia plopped onto the ground and closed her eyes. Her tail fell flat behind her as the music began to quiet and fade. ¡°You¡¯ve gotta trust me or else it won¡¯t be any fun. Just try it.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Three, striking high pitched tones followed the blunt refusal. Followed by dead silence.


    ¡°Please?¡± The fox folded her ears downwards as she gave the half-snake the best puppy impression she could muster. ¡°I promise it¡¯s nothing bad!¡±


    A very skeptical Claire eyed her furry companion for a few moments before heaving a sigh. ¡°Fine.¡±


    ¡°Yay!¡± Sylvia cheered as she got back to her feet, her tail wagging rapidly, serving as the metronome that signalled the song¡¯s resumption.


    Already regretting her decision, the lyrkress picked a berry off the bunch and popped it into her mouth. Surprisingly, she didn¡¯t need to chew, let alone swallow. The fruit melted the moment it touched her forked tongue, not into a liquid, but into pure mana.


    Log Entry 1775


    You have been afflicted with confusion.


    Alongside the sudden burst of magical energy came a sense of unease. The force mage could tell, distinctly, that something was off, but she wasn¡¯t able to pinpoint the sensation¡¯s source until she raised the wrong hand to her face; she had meant to move her right, but her left was the one that responded. Stumbling backwards, she found that the rest of her body was just as distorted, reversed. The foot she moved was never the foot she wanted to move, and her tail kept swinging the wrong way.


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    What¡­ is going on? What did I just eat?


    ¡°Super fun, right?¡± said Sylvia, as she leapt through a nearby tree. ¡°Bet you¡¯ll never catch me now!¡±


    Claire was still feeling unsteady, like she was going to trip and fall no matter how she moved, but after struggling to pick the berries back up off the ground, she raised her head and started wobbling after the fox with her eyes narrowed into a vidicative glare.


    ___


    A few hours and twisted hallucinations later, the pair arrived at a large wall that had almost seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Like the horn, the ridge had revealed itself only when they approached, suddenly popping out of the ground and filling the space between the marsh and the forest as they came within range. The only opening that decorated the seemingly infinite wall was the mouth of a cave, a tall doorway that reminded the halfbreed of the entrance that had led her into the meadow. She didn¡¯t have the best view of its insides, but from what she could tell, it wasn¡¯t anything too special, just another subterranean tunnel.


    ¡°We¡¯re here!¡± said Sylvia, as she plopped herself down at the edge of the forest. ¡°I think this is about as far as I¡¯ve ever gone, but I still know where everything is.¡±


    ¡°You do?¡±


    ¡°Yup! I have a built-in map thingy that I can follow. It shows me just about everything, including all the people and stuff.¡±


    ¡°A skill?¡±


    ¡°Mhm! All the other foxes have it too,¡± said Sylvia, as she started to stretch. ¡°Oh, and there are gonna be some monsters up in the tunnel, but I¡¯m not allowed to fight them so you¡¯re going to have to go in front. It¡¯s kind of annoying, but we can¡¯t really get around them because they live there and there¡¯s only one way up.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Stepping forward, Claire closed her eyes and steadied her breath. She was still feeling a little thrown off by everything that Sylvia had put her through. It wasn¡¯t the first time she had been whisked away to the world within a song, but never before had she experienced one that was as absurd and phantasmagoric as the fox¡¯s hymn. Stupid dancing fruit bears.


    It took three and a half sighs for the lyrkress to finally dismiss the psychedelic melody. Shoving it into one of the furthest recesses of her mind, she entered the vertical hallway and scanned it for any potential threats. Like the room that had freed her from the mossy caves, it was a tall corridor shaped like a cylinder, a ramp running up its side as would a helix. But that was where the similarities ended. There weren¡¯t any roots hanging from the ceilings, let alone a set that extended all the way down to ground level. Only the bottom third or so was green, with bits of kelp sprouting from the floor. The rest was dyed in shades of blue and black, save for the single beam of light that came from up above.


    From the outside, the stairwell had looked perfectly dry. But filled with air the passage was not. In its place was water. Lots, and lots of water. What confused her most, however, was not the sudden change in the environment. That, she was already accustomed to. The lyrkress was much more taken aback by her body¡¯s complete and utter lack of concern. The breath she had accidentally taken had filled her lungs with water, but the organs weren¡¯t responding with pain or agony. They continued on as if everything was perfectly fine, even as she kept breathing through her nose.


    Maybe this means I can swim now.


    Claire kicked off the ground and waved her tail back and forth, as if it were a paddle. She spread the fins on her front legs and worked her flippers whilst pushing through the water with her hands. The initial jump¡¯s momentum carried her a whole five meters upwards. But it was soon nulled, negated entirely by gravity¡¯s pull. A second attempt led to an equally disappointing failure, and a third provided not even the slightest bit of improvement. Still, she tried again and again for a good fifteen minutes before finally giving up and allowing herself to sink back to the bottom. Hopes dashed and spirits crushed, the halfbreed walked over to a corner, coiled her tail around her legs, and buried her face in her arms.


    ¡°Wow! You still can¡¯t swim? That¡¯s super weird,¡± said Sylvia, as she doggy-paddled her way over.


    ¡°Shut up,¡± said Claire.


    Unlike the fox, the lyrkress¡¯ body wasn¡¯t shrouded in a water-repellent bubble, but her voice was clear nonetheless. Somehow, her throat had become capable of producing perfectly intelligible sounds even while underwater.


    ¡°I mean, it is! Why can¡¯t you swim if you can brea¡ª¡±


    Syvlia tried to keep talking, but Claire clamped a hand around her mouth and limited the sounds she made to a series of ¡°mrrmmphs¡± and ¡°rrrmmfs.¡± She didn''t release her until she was done wallowing in despair, about a minute or so later.


    Plugging her ears with her hands, the blueblood blatantly ignored the overly friendly canid and started making her way up to the dungeon¡¯s third floor. The fox apologized, but she stubbornly kept the act up until she encountered her first monster. At a glance, she had thought the creature a large floating rock, but getting closer to it revealed that it was a turtle with its flippers retracted; all four of its limbs were tucked inside its stony shell with the only notable protrusion the reptile¡¯s three-pronged tail. The appendage was spinning, slowly but surely propelling the leatherback through the water.


    Despite looking friendly and relatively harmless, the sea critter attacked her on sight. It tucked its head inside its shell and kicked its tail into overdrive, rushing her down as would a bull. Above the water, avoiding such an attack would have proven a simple task. But within it, the lyrkress could only move at a snail''s pace.


    The shell-shaped torpedo crashed straight into her chest. Her ribs creaked beneath the weight of the aquatic reptile¡¯s frame as she found herself winded by the surprisingly heavy blow. It looked as if the turtle had been crowned the first round¡¯s winner, but Claire was the one to come out on top. Though she lacked the speed she needed to get out of the way, she was able to maneuver the pointiest part of her body straight into the turtle¡¯s path. The sharp, frosted blade tore straight through the missile¡¯s armour and devastated its soft interior. The long gash in its side wasn''t a fatal blow but neither was it a trifling flesh wound. Its stomach was threatening to spill out from its shell as would a negligent lady¡¯s from the seams of an old corset.


    Despite being the more heavily damaged of the two, the turtle was the first to recover. It pushed her with its flippers and backed off before spinning around for a second charge. Attack number two was aimed at her gut, but it failed to land on target. Rearing up onto her flippers, Claire kicked the loggerhead into the ground right before it reached her.


    The ramp cracked as the beast¡¯s shell made contact with the stone. Not wanting the path to collapse, she refrained from stomping on its back in favour of holding it still as she fired a series of spells, icebolts. None of the projectiles were able to pierce the testudine¡¯s armour, but they froze it, creating patches of ice wherever they landed. A dozen-odd casts was all it took to transform the thoroughly decreased creature into a submarine iceberg.


    Log Entry 1782


    You have slain a level 35 Turpedo.


    This feat has earned you the following bonuses:


    - 1 point of vitality


    - 1 point of wisdom


    Log Entry 1783


    You have unlocked a new spawnable drink item.


    Log Entry 1784


    Ice Manipulation has reached level 2.


    Claire spent a few moments staring at the fresh corpse, which had started floating upwards the moment she stepped off it. A quiet grumble escaped her throat as she bashed a fist against it and sent it flying away from the ramp. The turpedo was practically a boulder. Its shell was hard and heavy, and she was confident that its weight far exceeded hers. And yet, the monster succeeded where she failed. Even in death, it retained its ability to stay afloat.


    Maybe I¡¯m just cursed.


    Shaking her head, she tried her best to free herself of the negative thought. Her inability to swim was undeniable, but on the bright side, the turtle had proven itself a relatively easy kill. There was no way for her to know for sure, but the halfbreed suspected that she would have struggled to slay it prior to her ascension. She found that dealing with it was surprisingly difficult, even with several thresholds freshly breached. Its shell was tougher than the rock that made up her environment, and its speed exceeded hers by far. At the very least, the marine reptile far outclassed the borroks that she had spent the past few days fighting.


    I wonder how strong the ascended Llystletein variants are.


    Her mind already on the next challenge, she turned to face the path and continued climbing her way up towards the distant sunbeam.

 Chapter 72 - The Cursed Effigy IV

    Chapter 72 - The Cursed Effigy IV


    A dozen dead turtles later, Claire emerged from the tunnel to find herself standing atop a cliff. The scene before her was an endless expanse of water, a sparkling archipelago, a shallow sea dotted with a thousand tiny isles, each home to no more than a score of broad-leafed tropical trees. They were palms, the bizarre beach trees that she so often saw in paintings of the sea. Roughly level with the clifftop were three distinct floating territories, arranged in a triangular formation with one in front and two to the rear. If not for the thick stone chains tethering them down to the ground¡ªand each other¡ª they likely would have taken off and risen beyond the clear blue skies.


    Each airborne district featured its distinct biome. The closest was a flattened savannah, an orange field that reminded her of fresh hay, ready for harvest. Countless monsters wandered the landscape. Mammals, reptiles, and even one-legged, hopping birds. All tiny details when compared to the massive, long-necked deer towering over the plains. Each of the twenty meter tall cervids sported a crown of life, a pair of antlers whose tips blossomed into large leafy branches. Creatures of all shapes and sizes flocked to the half-mammalian plants, seeking to eat the fruits that hung from their horns.


    Log Entry 1798


    Catgirl Detector V. 0.32 has reached level 6.


    Thanks Box, I really needed to know that those weird deer tree things are 17% catgirl.


    By contrast, the island on the left had not a flat piece of land in sight. The treeless stone forest was less lively, inhabited by only a select few creatures. The vast majority of its occupants, four-winged eagles, hovered around the tips of the large spiky rocks. Grasses and shrubs bloomed in the spaces between the igneous protrusions, but there seemed not a trace of wildlife among them. And for good reason. The vegetation was shrouded in an ominous purple mist that not even the birds of prey dared approach.


    The smallest chained domain¡ªthe citadel¡ªwas one of few natural features. It looked as would a ruined fortress or an ancient castle town, half destroyed by its enemies and left to rot. Though large enough to contain a city, the once-great structure had been reduced to piles of rubble with only a few livable spaces remaining. Defiled by streaks of rust and grime, the walls carried only the slightest hint of the white that they were once dyed, while vines and other plants had reclaimed nearly every other man-made structure in Primrose¡¯s name. They were flourishing, their flowers bright and ever present, potentially a result of an elven influence.


    ¡°Woah, Al wasn¡¯t kidding. This place is tiny!¡± said Sylvia.


    Though intending to object at first, Claire changed her mind upon considering the fox¡¯s perspective. The peninsula was to the swamp-forest what a cup was to a pitcher. She could practically see the end of the ocean; the horizon was much closer, not nearly as infinitely far away as the marsh¡¯s distant border. Not even the vertical space provided much in the name of expansion. There were only three islands, and the second upside down biome was missing altogether. The floating rocks covered about twice the area of the mountain she had climbed, and the archipelago itself was hardly any larger.


    Having taken the sights in, the bloodthief shook the water out of her hair and made for the chain attached to the cliff.


    ¡°Wait wait wait! You can¡¯t do that! The chains are off limits!¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll set off one of the lords if you step on them!¡±


    ¡°The lord of the chasm?¡±


    ¡°Not that one, a different one! Every floor¡¯s got at least three.¡± The fox raised her tail and split its end into a trio of distinct fluffballs. ¡°And one of them is the lord of the chains. It¡¯s a super strong bird thingy and you really don¡¯t want to fight it!¡±


    ¡°Then how do we get to the citadel?¡± Claire turned her eyes to the floating fortress as she continued. ¡°I can¡¯t fly.¡±


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ you can¡¯t? That¡¯s gonna make things a bit awkward,¡± admitted the fox. ¡°Hmmm¡­ Then I dunno how you¡¯re supposed to get there.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said you had a map.¡±


    ¡°I do! But it has routes I¡¯m not supposed to show the torches, and I don¡¯t know which ones are which!¡±


    ¡°Useless fox,¡± grumbled the lyrkress.


    ¡°I¡¯m not useless! I can¡¯t just let you cheat!¡± said Sylvia.


    Ignoring the vixen, the half-snake walked over to the cliff¡¯s edge and sat down as she considered her options. Catgirl Detector seemed to be telling her that the centaurs she rescued were hanging around the run-down castle. Given that neither of them were of the winged variety, their presence suggested that there was at least one viable way up, but looking around the floating island¡¯s base failed to provide any clues. There weren¡¯t any elevators or teleporters anywhere in its immediate vicinity, not that the halfbreed would have wanted to use either. Teleporting was a convenient but risky affair. Seeing through portals was impossible; there was no telling who or what would be waiting on the other side. And any warp gates were sure to be guarded if the citadel¡¯s management was anything beyond utterly incompetent.


    Though not against visiting, Claire had no intention of announcing her presence. She was well aware that her appearance was eye-catching. In high society, her looks had proven themselves a merit, but that was only because she was untouchable. In Cadria, there was no way for her to be captured without the duke¡¯s knowledge. But Llystletein was not under cervitaurian rule, nor was it without its fair share of unsavoury characters. When out of space, Cadrian prisons would often send their inmates to the library on the grounds of offering them an opportunity to earn their freedom. And her fatherland was only one of many countries that enforced the practice. Even assuming an unequal survival rate, criminals would by far outnumber any more virtuous groups.


    Her status as a noble lady, specifically the lady of House Augustus, only made matters worse. Her father had no shortage of enemies, the vast majority of which were foreign soldiers with deep-rooted grudges borne of the flames of war. And like death row inmates, dishonoured veterans with little left to live for were also known to conduct the ritual. She couldn¡¯t help but suspect that she would be thrown into some sort of convoluted revenge plot upon being identified by a military man affiliated with an enemy state. And that was by far the last thing she wanted.


    Even if she could escape, the halfbreed was well aware that confrontation remained suboptimal. She had no doubt that a chase sequence was unlikely to end, just because she managed to get away on one occasion. There was nothing stopping a potential foe from pursuing her to the library¡¯s furthest ends. And that was precisely why her plan of attack was to sneak in, speak to Sylvia¡¯s father, and get out without alerting any of the locals to her presence. That reminds me¡­ I still need to deal with that huskar¡­


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    ¡°Do you remember how you were making platforms and stepping on them?¡± asked Claire, as she dangled her feet over the cliff¡¯s edge.


    ¡°You mean with magic? Yeah, what about it?¡±


    ¡°Can they support my weight?¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ I think so. Wait, are you trying to get me to make you a big staircase or something?¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°Something like that.¡±


    ¡°I dunno if I can. That also kinda sounds like it¡¯s cheating. I¡¯m just supposed to give you advice and show you around, not help you do stuff.¡±


    ¡°What if I spend the next few hours fishing and give you all the fish?¡±


    ¡°Errk¡­ that¡¯s a really tempting offer, but I can¡¯t,¡± said the fox, with her ears and tail drooping. ¡°Bringing you to my dad is kind of already skirting the edge.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    Claire tried crossing her arms, but lowered them upon encountering the usual obstacle. With a click of the tongue, she lowered her gaze onto the beach below, only to freeze as she noticed a palm reduced to a tiny stump¡ªa muse that provided her with a sudden burst of inspiration. If the fox wasn¡¯t going to help her navigate the sky, then she was just going to have to do it herself.


    Getting to her feet, she fired seven shards of ice into the rocky ground beside her, each approximately the size of a leg. They were the biggest spikes that Icebolt could produce, and though imperfect, they at least seemed decent enough to suit her purposes. Confirming that they measured out about as expected, she took a deep breath, spread her fingers wide, and tried her hand at manipulation. She centered her consciousness on the mana, the essence that made up the seven spells in front of her, and pulled it all together into a single large glob, a sphere with a dozen jagged edges.


    ¡°Uhhhh¡­ Claire? What are you doing?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like nothing.¡±


    Once the resulting spell was stable and no longer at risk of exploding into a faceful shrapnel, the mage went for a second round of alteration. She flattened its form and turned it into a large plank roughly the same length and width as her lower half.


    Log Entry 1799


    Ice Manipulation has reached level 5.


    Moving it closer to the door, and away from the cliff¡¯s edge, the halfbreed climbed on top of the freshly formed board and pulled on it with both her feet, slowly raising it¡ªand her¡ªinto the air. The inanimate steed was fueled entirely by force magic, just like the stump she had ridden through the veabers¡¯ encampment. Fiddling with the strength of the vector allowed the mage to adjust her height. Once somewhat adjusted to the sensation, she pulled as hard as she could to test her maximum acceleration, only to find herself moving in the wrong direction. Her face was planted straight into the ground as the vehicle capsized and flipped on its head. She had hardly suffered any damage, but the plank had broken in half, snapped by the violent crash landing.


    Not discouraged, Claire magicked the two halves of the board back together and tried again. Attempt number two came with four sources of propulsion, both her legs and both her flippers. It was her first time channeling force magic through the tiny rear limbs, but the process remained just as simple and intuitive as usual.


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ Claire? You do know tha¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up. I¡¯m trying to focus.¡±


    The most difficult part of staying aloft was keeping the four forces in sync. The board would start to tilt whenever she got too careless, and getting distracted was as easy as spotting a distant bird out of the corner of her eye. She fell on more than just a few occasions and wound up suffering a nosebleed and a good number of scrapes, but adjusted in due time. Mastering the art of hovering in place took her just a few minutes.


    Moving, on the other hand, proved itself an incredible challenge. There weren¡¯t any ceilings for her to exploit; she couldn¡¯t simply pull herself around by grabbing whatever happened to be overhead. Force magic was going to have to fuel the process, but she wasn¡¯t sure how she was meant to apply it. Pushing the board with her hands was impossible, given her position on top of it, and all her lower limbs were already occupied. Wait a second¡­


    Flicking her tail behind the plank, she pointed it at the icy object and tried to activate Apply Force. To her surprise, it worked. The spell moved her forward without sending her back down to earth. Pushing too hard would cause the plank to start slipping out from underneath her, but a series of gentle prods provided a brand new method of locomotion.


    Moving her tail around and pushing the platform from different angles even allowed her to turn. She soon found herself steering through the air, moving more or less exactly where she pleased, albeit at a snail¡¯s pace. The rogue would have preferred the ability to maintain her speed, but slow flight was still better than no flight at all. Lackluster tempo aside, the only issue was the plank¡¯s durability. She had to refreeze it on more than one occasion; the hot summer day that accompanied the beachside environment melted it at an alarming pace.


    Finally satisfied, after a few too many minutes of playing around, the force mage moved back to the cliff where Sylvia was waiting. The fox had been surprisingly quiet during the whole affair, speaking up only twice in the half an hour or so it had taken Claire to get the gist of taking to the air. That might be a new record.


    ¡°What were you trying to say, earlier?¡± asked the half-snake.


    ¡°Right uuhhhhmm¡­ you¡¯re a Llystletein force mage, right? Not a regular one?¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°So you¡¯re probably not gonna like hearing this, after all that effort, but it¡¯s kinda your own fault for cutting me off so much,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°You know you can do that without the board thingy, right?¡±


    ¡°I can?¡±


    ¡°At least I think you can. The moving yourself thing is supposed to be part of why the Llystletein variant is so good. That, and the spirit guardians.¡±


    After blinking a few times, Claire popped open the class¡¯ description and confirmed that it explicitly mentioned that she would be able to affect her own body with her spells. She almost couldn¡¯t believe that she had failed to recall or otherwise naturally stumble across the feature, but thinking back led to the conclusion that it had come as a function of apply force¡¯s precision. The spell would operate on whatever she decided to target and nothing else; accidentally moving the wrong thing was outright impossible.


    Making a mental note to inspect all her other classes and abilities at a later time, the mage pointed her tail at her back and prepared to cast. She figured that she was a lot heavier than most things, so she set the spell to its maximum output and gave herself a big old push. Almost naturally, her body flew forward at full speed, moving as quickly as she would at a full gallop.


    Log Entry 1800


    Force Manipulation has reached level 15.


    Log Entry 1801


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Force Mage, has reached level 42.


    You have gained 6 ability points.


    A pair of notifications played out in Claire¡¯s head, but she was too busy spiralling out of the sky to pay them any attention. The sudden burst of speed had thrown her completely off balance, and getting her tail underneath her was next to impossible with her body whirling about. Overwhelmed and dizzy enough to vomit, the halfbreed plummeted straight into the beach and left a distinctly lyrkrian imprint right along the shoreline.


    ¡°Wow, that was a really big fall!¡± Sylvia landed next to the snake horse after a brief delay. Unlike her companion, the half-fox stuck the landing despite spending a good three quarters of her trip at terminal velocity. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    Spitting out a mouthful of wet sand, Claire peeled herself off the beachfront and placed a hand on her head. She was almost tempted to make another plank and pretend that she had never realised she could affect herself with force magic, but stopped as she recalled the alternative procedure¡¯s lack of speed. It was certainly much easier and more intuitive, but had far less potential.


    Taking the future in consideration, she concluded that learning to magically manipulate her own body would reap nothing but rewards, even if it was shaping up to be an incredibly painful and embarrassing process.

 Chapter 73 - The Cursed Effigy V

    Chapter 73 - The Cursed Effigy V


    The sun had already started to set, but Claire ignored the dwindling light and continued to refine her magic. Despite investing a whole afternoon, she still found herself incapable of true flight. Hovering in place proved outright impossible; turning herself into an arrow was the best she could do, and even that proved inconsistent. She couldn¡¯t apply just a constant force on her own body. The slightest twitch would throw the resulting vector off target and cause her to spin out of control.


    The best alternative was to add another burst of acceleration each time she started to fall. On paper, the approach was perfect, but in practice, it was insufferable. The forces she applied to herself had to be relatively powerful. Anything that was too weak would fail to generate the lift she needed and prove itself irrelevant. She would immediately start falling out of the air every single time her speed dropped beneath a seemingly inconsistent threshold. The most intuitive solution was then to opt for larger, more powerful vectors, but they were rarely applicable. Quick bursts of speed came hand in hand with sudden lurches, and though she was slowly starting to grow accustomed to them, they remained forever accompanied by waves of dizziness and nausea. It was a balancing act with no equilibrium. The only two choices she had were to plummet or risk vomiting.


    Heaving a sigh, she pushed herself off the ground for the hundredth time and lumbered towards a nearby tent. Sylvia had already set up camp. Apparently, the fox happened to be well-versed in the art of construction, as she had managed to put together a canvas made almost entirely of palm leaves. Unlike Claire, she had spent the afternoon making leaps and bounds of progress. She had scouted the perimeter, put together a shelter, and fished up dinner for two, all without missing her afternoon nap.


    Unlike the semiaquatic lyrkress, the terrestrial canid was an excellent swimmer. She retained the full extent of her agility even whilst underwater, and could chase down whatever fish she wanted without breaking a sweat. The entire pursuit was like a game to her. She would match her speed with her prey¡¯s and corner it with her wit, as opposed to simply outpacing it with her magic.


    Her victims were stored in a large bubble filled with water, which she kept right by the tent. A few locals had tried accessing its contents, but Sylvia had chased them all away. Baring her fangs and barking had more than sufficed to scare off creatures at least ten times her size.


    ¡°Are you finally done? Or is this just another break?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m done,¡± said Claire. Using her tail, she made herself a seat in the sand, right next to the fox.


    The force mage still had every intention of mastering flight, but she was sick and tired of failing. Even without any more practice, she was confident that she could get up to the citadel, but she had refrained from jumping right in. Using the night as cover would minimize her chances of being discovered. According to Sylvia, her father was the sort to stay up through the night; a lack of sunlight would be no inconvenience to their meeting or discussion.


    ¡°Do you want any fish? I don¡¯t actually know what they are, but they¡¯re really good because they¡¯re saltier than the fish I normally eat.¡±


    Claire frowned as she glanced at the prey the fox was keeping in her bubble. She had to admit, Sylvia had made them look incredibly appetizing. The tiny orange fuzzball had stuffed her face with more than twice her weight in seafood. If they weren¡¯t raw, she would have gladly joined in and eaten her fair share. That wasn¡¯t to say that the bluescale couldn¡¯t eat raw meat. She was capable of digesting it without any issues, courtesy of her lamian heritage, but she could never quite bring herself to enjoy it. It was too slimy; she would always be reminded of frog, no matter how delicious the animal on her plate.


    ¡°If you can start a fire.¡±


    ¡°Sure I can, but are you sure a fire is all you¡¯re gonna need? I¡¯m pretty sure dad does a lot more than just heating things up. He has all these bottles with this really strong smelling stuff inside.¡±


    The lyrkress shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never cooked before.¡±


    ¡°Me either. I¡¯m not really sure how something is supposed to taste better just because you heat it up. Oh well, I guess there isn¡¯t any real harm in trying.¡± Sylvia started digging in the sand. ¡°Can you go get some wood? Or something else that¡¯s really flammable, like a cow or something.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think cows are flammable,¡± said Claire.


    Walking over to the nearest tree, she fired a series of Icebolts through its base and severed its trunk from its roots. The fruits attached to it scattered as it fell. Not all of them seemed like they were fit for consumption. Some were a strange shade of brown and looked as if they had rotted without falling off the tree. Making sure to grab only the ones that were still green, and clearly ready to eat, Claire hauled the palm back over to the fox.


    ¡°Really? Dad says that they¡¯ll explode if you make them fart on fire. It sounds kinda neat, so we can try it if you feel like it. I think there are supposed to be a few of them on this floor.¡±


    It was a bit of a suspicious claim, but Claire decided not to question it. She wasn¡¯t aware of any evidence to the contrary, and the fox seemed more than confident enough in the conclusion. I want to try it, but¡­


    ¡°That sounds like a waste of good meat.¡±


    ¡°Is it? I¡¯ve never had cow before.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re tasty.¡±


    Claire tore the palm¡¯s bark off its trunk and threw it into the pit. The wood was brittle in her hands, breaking apart with the slightest application of force.


    ¡°Really? How tasty?¡± asked Sylvia, as she spat a ball of fire onto the wood.


    Claire stopped her hands for a moment as she tried to come up with an analogy. She wasn¡¯t sure how she was supposed to quantify deliciousness. ¡°Better than fish.¡±


    ¡°What!? There¡¯s no way it could possibly be better than fish! Nothing¡¯s better than fish!¡±


    ¡°Beef is.¡±


    ¡°Fish is the best!¡±


    ¡°Beef is better.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t believe it until I try it!¡± said Sylvia.


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    ¡°Then let¡¯s go look for cows tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But first you¡¯ve gotta try this fish. It¡¯s super good!¡±


    Claire nodded as she ripped a particularly spiky individual out from inside of the bubble, a creature that was roughly the same size as the fox. It flailed in her hands, as if to either break free or bite her with its finger-sized teeth, but it was unable to escape her grasp. The fish didn¡¯t seem like it would be settling down, so she put an end to its struggling by shooting a small bolt of ice through its forehead.


    Log Entry 1803


    You have slain a level 17 fowlfish, but no experience has been earned.


    ¡°What do I do now?¡± she wondered out loud, as she looked between the deceased sea creature and the flame.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ I guess you put it in the fire?¡±


    Shrugging, Claire tore the fish in two so that it could fit inside the pit, and threw both halves right in, as if they were more firewood. The moisture caused the flame to wane, but a quick breath from Sylvia got it right back to roaring.


    ¡°I know I said it a bunch already, but this is my first time stepping out of Mirewood Meadow,¡± said the half-elf. ¡°I¡¯ve seen bits and pieces of Sky Lagoon before, but being here in person just feels¡­ different.¡±


    Claire didn¡¯t say anything, even when Sylvia paused. She did offer a nod, but only after the fox looked at her to check if she was paying attention.


    ¡°It¡¯s a lot prettier and more breathtaking than I thought it¡¯d be, even though it¡¯s hardly any bigger than the Darkwood. Is this how the outside world is too?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes. It depends where you go.¡±


    ¡°I think I might actually like it better that way. You can¡¯t really have ups if you don¡¯t have downs.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess.¡± Claire shrugged and, following the fox¡¯s example, curled up next to the flame. ¡°I really liked exploring cities. But only without supervision.¡±


    ¡°Oh! Dad told me a lot about cities. Do they really have tens of thousands of people in them? And all at once? That just sounds ridiculous. How are you supposed to fit so many people in one settlement? Wouldn¡¯t it just get really crowded?¡±


    ¡°Ten thousand is nothing. Valencia has a quarter of a million.¡± The lyrkress broke open one of the fruits, dumped the watery fluid within, and took a bite of its astringent, stringy flesh. For once, the food she was putting in her mouth wasn¡¯t completely devoid of flavour. She didn¡¯t enjoy the fruit¡¯s distinct taste, but she found it far more appetizing than any of the dishes she could summon.


    Sylvia¡¯s tail shot straight up. ¡°A quarter of a million!? No way! That¡¯s impossible!¡±


    With a smile, the blueblood pressed the tip of her tail into the sand and started sketching a blueprint of the city. She remembered exactly how it looked from above, her home in the clouds providing a perfect view on a cloudless day. Everything from the manors to the shopping districts to the slums had long been imprinted in her mind.


    ¡°It¡¯s a really big city,¡± she said, as she traced her feathery brush across the seemingly amorphous blob. ¡°Moving from one side to the other takes half a day.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s one big city then? And not a bunch of smaller ones smooshed together? If it takes half a day, then it¡¯s probably almost as big as the meadow!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that big,¡± said Claire. ¡°You can¡¯t run through the city, like we can through the meadow. The streets are crowded and you have to use carriages to get around.¡±


    The population was only one of two reasons that Valencia was so difficult to navigate, its convoluted layout being the other; even the most direct path contained a series of seemingly unnecessary twists and turns. An uneducated analyst was likely to think that the city was simply unplanned, but that was about as far from the truth as could be. Generations upon generations of city planners had built on each other¡¯s work to turn the streets into a massive, sprawling security measure, a meticulously designed series of paths that would not greatly inconvenience the locals whilst also throwing off a potential invading force. It was nigh impossible for an army to raid the Cadrian capital without telepathic air support.


    ¡°Wow, that sounds really neat! Is that the only city like that?¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°It isn¡¯t even the only one in Cadria.¡±


    ¡°Uhhmmmm¡­ wait, what was Cadria again?¡±


    ¡°The country Valencia is in.¡±


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s a lot of names.. I guess there really is more than just the library out there,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Oh and umm¡­ by the way¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°I think the fish might be starting to burn. It¡¯s starting to smell funny.¡±


    ¡°It is?¡±


    Extending her hands, the snake-horse magically retrieved the two halves she had thrown into the pit. It had only been a few minutes, but the fish¡¯s remains had already been dyed a deep black. So charred was the skin that it crumbled the moment she laid hands on it. Its flesh was a bit better off, but it still didn¡¯t look very appetizing. Still, Claire decided to give it a try. She bit down on the tail piece, only to find that the interior had somehow wound up uncooked. Everything beyond the crispy outer layer was still mushy and disgusting. The flavour was so bad that she suspected the unpalatable dish a noxious substance.


    Log Entry 1804


    You have been afflicted with minor indigestion. Your health regeneration has been reduced from 630/hour to 625/hour for 28 minutes.


    Log Entry 1805


    You have acquired the Cooking skill.


    I¡¯m not really sure about that one, Box.


    Spitting out the inedible mess, Claire galloped over into the sea with both pieces of fish still in hand and rinsed her mouth with saltwater as she eyed the skill¡¯s description.


    Cooking - Level 1


    Congratulations, you have discovered that you are destined never to become a chef. If not for the class requirement, you would have acquired the Alchemy skill, as you have somehow managed to chemically process a delicious fish into a lump of coal.


    Effects


    - You are able to match your cooking techniques to ingredients available to you.


    - Increases the rate at which you learn new cooking techniques by 11% (10% + 1% per level) of your wisdom


    I don¡¯t think this helps if I don¡¯t know any cooking techniques¡­ It may as well be plain harassment.


    Thinking of the goddess and her snarky comments led Claire to a particularly appealing idea. With a grin on her face, the lyrkress placed the rest of the fish in front of her, sat down on her knees, and placed her hands in her lap. With a centaur-like front half, the posture was much more difficult and required greater discipline to maintain, but it was not so bad that it rendered her incapable of focusing on the powers above.


    ¡°O great goddess of the eternal flow, divine architect of petty harassment. I offer to you a fair maiden¡¯s first dish. May you feast deliciously on this gift and relish the many to follow.¡±


    It was a bit of a stretch. An offering was meant to be something of value to the individual presenting it, or at the very least, something that had been valuable at some point in time. That was why she had been able to present the goddess with a melted candle. Prior to its destruction, she had certainly thought the waxy cylinder a key item of importance. It was her guide, her pathfinder, the reason she had made it so far. On the other hand, the fish was much more difficult to argue. It would have made a fine sacrifice prior to its degradation, but it had lost its intrinsic desirability when she ruined it. At best, she could argue that it had some sort of vague sentimental value, as it was technically a gift from a friend.


    Despite her suspicions, she opened her eyes to find it missing. The system had accepted it; it would only be a matter of time before the goddess was subject to the prank. Assuming Allegra was right about how offerings work.


    ¡°Hey, Claire! You okay?¡± Sylvia walked over, right as the sun finally vanished beneath the horizon.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± said the halfbreed, as she got back to her feet.


    ¡°Oh, whew! I was kinda worried because you suddenly ran into the water and vanished beneath the surface!¡±


    ¡°I was praying.¡±


    ¡°Praying? Really? Wait¡­ where¡¯s the fish?¡±


    Not saying another word, Claire flashed a mischievous smile and made her way back to the campfire.

 Chapter 74 - The Cursed Effigy VI

    Chapter 74 - The Cursed Effigy VI


    Claire clenched her teeth as the cold evening air rushed by. She was soaring through the sky, pushing herself with her tail and boosting towards the citadel, one vector at a time. Though night had already fallen, she remained accompanied by fliers aplenty. There were just as many birds active throughout the night as there had been during the day; gulls, eagles, and petrels littered the void, squawking away with no concern for the diurnal. They were difficult to spot in the darkness, but paying close attention revealed that there were more of them than there were stars in the sky. The distant light sources would often find themselves obscured by large winged silhouettes.


    Birds, islands, and foxes were by no means the only entities coasting up above. Off in the distance, slowly moving from one side of the world to the other, was a massive shattered moon, topped by a wizard¡¯s hat and orbited by a large ring of debris, fragments of its broken frame.


    Once well above the settlement, the lyrkress shifted to pushing forward. She launched herself towards one of the three ancient trees that had grown from the ruins, all of which were located at the center of town. A last minute flick of the tail mitigated the force of the impact. She would have been able to negate it outright had she been more experienced, but as it stood, she found her forehead with a fresh bruise and the tree with one less branch. Still, the rogue was able to remain obscured and hidden within the canopy.


    Sylvia had a much easier time accomplishing the same feat. She had casually floated up to the citadel and landed atop Claire¡¯s head, as would any other fox. Not that non-Llystletein foxes could float. Or transform into fairies, for that matter.


    Narrowing her eyes, Claire carefully scanned her surroundings before making her way out of the tree. Her crash landing had come with a series of blatant thunks, but the settlement remained unresponsive. Though the time of day was certainly a contributor, she didn¡¯t think it a key factor. To her surprise and displeasure, the ruins were still lively, even with the sun far beneath the horizon. Turning her eyes to where her ears made out the clinking of glass and roaring of laughter, she found a dozen or so buildings with their flames still kept alight. Claire doubted that the locals had missed the crash from so close; they must have simply chosen to ignore it.


    ¡°Wow, that was kinda mes¡ª¡±


    Claire grabbed the fox by the snout to cut her off before bringing a finger to her lips. ¡°Quiet. They¡¯ll hear us,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Right, sorry¡­¡± said Sylvia, in a lower tone. ¡°Anyway, that was really messy. Are you sure you¡¯re okay? You look like you hit yourself pretty badly.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you say so. But just so you know, I can heal you if you get hurt outside a fight, so don¡¯t be afraid to ask!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± repeated the snake horse. ¡°Where¡¯s your father?¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ let¡¯s see¡­¡± Sylvia hummed a short note and stuck it to her face as she sniffed at the air. ¡°I think he¡¯s¡­ over that way?¡±


    Her paw was pointed at one of the stranger-looking buildings at the end of the street. From the outside, the pentagonal structure looked to be a sort of abbey, courtesy of the symbol engraved on its door. Claire recognized the Grand Scale as Flitzegarde¡¯s mark, a holy rune representing the concept of order. Recognition, however, was as far as she got. She couldn¡¯t recall any of the concepts associated with the divine, nor any of her preferences or taboos. Though a bit confused, she didn¡¯t stress about it. Even if it bore the goddess¡¯ mark, the building hardly seemed to be one that continued to serve a religious purpose. From what she could hear, the once-abbey had been converted to a sort of eatery, likely a diner or a bar.


    ¡°One second.¡± After raising her ears and scanning the soundscape one last time, Claire pulled the fluffy triangles inside her cloak and closed the holes that had been crafted to allow their exposure. Taking her security a step further, she extended her hood¡¯s lip so that it would better hide her features. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m ready.¡±


    ¡°Then let¡¯s g¡ª¡± The fox started to cheer, but clamped her paws over her mouth upon realizing that she had started to raise her voice. ¡°Erm¡­ oops. I mean, let¡¯s go!¡± she shouted, in a whisper.


    Leading the way, Sylvia waltzed straight down the middle of the road with her tail swaying behind her. Claire considered the more cautious approach of sneaking from building to building, but shrugged it off after recalling that she had just checked for enemies. The vixen¡¯s heartbeat had been the only other she heard, so she set her caution aside and followed in her companion¡¯s footsteps.


    ¡°This is my first time visiting a town that isn¡¯t on the second floor,¡± said Sylvia, practically skipping along. ¡°I can¡¯t believe they have so many plants all over the place! It reminds me of Darkwood Hollow.¡±


    I doubt that¡¯s intentional.


    Keeping the comment to herself, Claire also turned her eyes on the ruined town. Up close, it looked even less livable than it had from afar. She was able to see in more detail the thousand cracks that ran up every wall, the vines that caused the damage, and the blooms born of the fort¡¯s downfall. At best, living in the citadel seemed uncomfortable. At worst, it was no different from being homeless. Every single building was damaged, with the ones in use serving as no exceptions. Even the abbey¡¯s walls and ceilings were boarded up with planks of wood, sheets of metal, and tarps of leather. All the parts used in the repairs were of surprising workmanship. Each plank was of the same dimensions, each metal sheet was flat and uniform, and each leather tarp looked to be of a high enough quality to be afforded only by those in the upper middle class. Do craftsmen not lose their levels?


    Though curious, she wasn¡¯t given any time to ponder the question. Spotting a series of moving shadows, the halfbreed cut her thoughts short, magically abducted the fox, and ducked into the alley. Sylvia almost instantly opened her mouth to speak, but Claire pressed a hand over it and kept her silenced.


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ hell, Neil, you damn pussy. I told you the borroks weren¡¯t worth shit. Even Carter¡¯s back already, and him and the girl had it hardest. Heard he was telling old Dickface some crazy shit at the pub. Apparently the stupid cow was so excited you could practically hear him jizzing his pants.¡±


    The first voice she heard was a man¡¯s. His words were spoken in a particularly rough tone that almost made it seem as if he was throwing a fit of rage.


    ¡°Eric! What¡¯s wrong with you!? Can¡¯t you go five minutes without saying something disgusting?¡± He was scolded almost immediately by a female, one with a voice a few pitches deeper than average.


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    ¡°Can the two of you please settle down? I¡¯m trying to think,¡± said the group¡¯s final member.


    ¡°Then think, One-eye. What¡¯s me shitting on Carter have to do with that?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re making it very difficult.¡±


    Of the three passersby, she immediately recognized two. They were the werebears that had destroyed her weapon cache. From what she could gather, the runt was the member of the group that had been transformed; she had a vague recollection of the way the other man referred to him.


    0% Catgirl? That¡¯s a first.


    To her relief, they once again failed to notice her. The group walked right past the alleyway, but she kept her ears on them until they turned a distant corner. Only then did she finally take a hand off the fox¡¯s face and give her a chance to breathe.


    ¡°What the heck, Claire! You can¡¯t just cover my nose like that!¡± complained Sylvia, right away. ¡°I thought I was gonna suffocate!¡±


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t suffocate that easily,¡± said the lyrkress, as she stretched her tail. ¡°It¡¯d take a while for your health regeneration to drop into the negatives.¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t think that¡¯s how that works! If you run out of air, you die, and that¡¯s that!¡±


    ¡°It is,¡± said Claire, confidently. ¡°I¡¯ve tried.¡±


    ¡°I think that¡¯s just because your body is weird!¡±


    ¡°No it¡¯s not. All lamias are the same.¡±


    ¡°Then lamias are super weird! First the hunger thing, and now this? Seriously! What the heck!? That¡¯s not how bodies are supposed to work! That¡¯s not normal!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s normal.¡±


    Claire shrugged as she stepped back out of the alley, only to stiffen up like a statue the moment she looked towards their destination. In front of her stood another familiar face, one that she recognized in the blink of an eye.


    ¡°Hello, and good evening.¡±


    Adorned by a pair of boots and a priestly habit was the ability point thief. He had appeared right in the middle of the street without warning, even though her ears had been on high alert.


    ¡°Child of Flux, I welcome you to the citadel with open arms.¡±


    After blinking a few times, Claire turned to look at Sylvia, who she assumed the man had been addressing, but apparently the fox was just as confused. She was returning Claire¡¯s gaze, her head tilted to express her lack of understanding.


    ¡°You have the wrong person,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible,¡± he said. ¡°I was guided here by a divine hand.¡±


    ¡°Then maybe you have the wrong time.¡±


    Her voice was steady, but she was far from calm. Even setting his lack of fur aside, she couldn¡¯t help but find herself bothered by the -100% catgirl. Something about him, his aura, and his impression was simply wrong and it took a moment of silent observation for her to pinpoint it.


    He didn¡¯t have a heartbeat.


    In fact, he was making no sound at all. She couldn¡¯t hear the wind that rushed past his hairless body, nor could she hear his breath, despite watching as his chest heaved up and down. Spoken words aside, he made not a single noise, even as he rummaged through the rucksack slung over his shoulder.


    ¡°Flux told me to show you this. She said that it was something that you would recognize immediately.¡±


    From the leather bag, the cat produced the tail end of a fish, specifically one that was charred a deep black and left with a thin layer of skin, brittle enough to crumble at the slightest touch.


    So her name is Flux¡­


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what that is,¡± lied Claire.


    ¡°Really? That¡¯s strange.¡± The cat-sith put the fish back in his backpack as he stood up on his hind legs and fiddled with his feathered cap. ¡°Can you show me what you look like under that hood? The goddess mentioned a few key features, namely some scales and a pair of ears, and I¡¯d like to check for them. Assuming you really don¡¯t recognize the charcoal.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Wait, you don¡¯t? Wasn¡¯t that fish the one yo¡ª¡±


    Claire paralyzed the fox with a glare, but it was too late. Sylvia had already revealed too many key pieces of information and the glint in the cat¡¯s eye made it clear that he had caught on. Knowing any further deception to be futile, the rogue sighed, peeled back her hood, and revealed her face. I thought foxes were supposed to meow in front of other people, not give me away.


    ¡°I knew it. Scales and ears, exactly as described in the revelation.¡± He smiled and bowed with one hand on his chest and another behind his waist. It was a sharp, practiced motion, the sort you would only expect to see from a man with an education. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, my lady. Beckard Links, fireclaw devout, at your service.¡±


    Not opting to return the greeting, the bluescale pulled her hood back over her head and hid her eyes. ¡°What does your goddess want?¡±


    ¡°I was told to help you, within reason of course.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Bye.¡±


    Without another word, the lyrkress walked right past the cat. She wanted nothing to do with him. There was no telling what associating with the strange man would bring, even if¡ªor perhaps even precisely because¡ªhe had the goddess¡¯ mark of approval. It wasn¡¯t as if Claire suspected that the snarky divine was out to harm her. There was no need for such a convoluted plot. She was ultimately under the box¡¯s umbrella, which was to say that Flux could have smited her at any point in time if she so desired. If anything, her impression of the goddess was a positive one. She thought her a relatively pleasant deity, even if she was too neglectful to offer regular guidance.


    Her suspicion came instead as a function of the timing. If the cat-sith was truly the devout he claimed, then he would be a man of great faith, one whose life was dedicated to the goddess¡¯ service, which was to say that she could have sent him at any point in time. He could have been there to greet her immediately upon the ritual¡¯s completion. Given that he was only showing up now, right after she had pulled a prank, with the item used in said prank in tow, she couldn¡¯t help but suspect that the box was using him to get back at her, one way or another.


    ¡°I can teach you a number of rare skills, if you¡¯d like. Combat worthy ones.¡±


    The offer stopped the halfbreed in her tracks. Slowly, reluctantly, she turned around and set the fox in her arms down onto the ground.


    ¡°Claire, frostblight lyrkress.¡±


    Unlike when she had introduced herself to the furball and the whale, the half-snake went through the formality of disclosing her racial identity, largely in part because she just wanted to say it. She highly doubted that leaking the class¡¯ name would run the risk of exposing her identity. Even as a well educated noble lady, she had never once heard a lyrkress mentioned by any person in any context. Likewise, she saw no problem in listing her name. It was common enough for it to be impossible for a potential hostile to think of her just because it happened to come up in a conversation.


    ¡°Wait, is that what you are now? I thought you were a chimera,¡± said the fox. ¡°Oh I¡¯m Sylvia Redleaf, Llystletein woodfox.¡±


    ¡°Redleaf?¡± The priest cat furrowed his brow. ¡°You must be Zelos¡¯ daughter then.¡±


    ¡°Yup! We were just about to go see him.¡±


    ¡°I can show you to him, if you¡¯d like.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sure! I was gonna sniff him out, but that¡¯d make it a lot easier.¡± The vixen rubbed the note off her nose and blew it to the winds, where it soon dissipated back into mana.


    ¡°He¡¯s normally in his room at this time of day. Follow me,¡± said Beckard, who had dropped onto all fours and started walking down the street.


    ¡°What about the skills?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be a little late for that, especially if you have other business. You can stop by my office at any time during the day.¡± He pointed a paw towards a large building on the opposite end of the street. ¡°It¡¯s right over there.¡±


    Like the abbey, the cat¡¯s workplace was a relatively large building marked with a holy symbol, an hourglass with a swirl in both chambers. The mark of the eternal flow.


    ¡°Now let¡¯s get going. Zelos likes to drink at night. If we take too long, he may find himself at the bar, too inebriated to speak.¡±

 Chapter 75 - The Cursed Effigy VII

    Chapter 75 - The Cursed Effigy VII


    The group continued down the street, walking right past the abbey that Claire had set her eyes on. Behind it were a series of smaller buildings reminiscent of those in a small village, homes built in a completely different architectural style. Chimneys aside, they were mostly made of wood, with bits of metal used as hinges and nails.


    Though of an identical make, the individual houses differed drastically in size and shape. Some of the buildings contained as many as three stories, with each about a meter and a half tall, whereas others had only a single floor with a door that spanned a full seven. It was a strange combination, as dwarves and giants were not typically known to live in such close quarters, but the cat carried on as if it was nothing of note.


    ¡°So how do you know my dad, anyway?¡± asked Sylvia.


    She was flopped atop Claire¡¯s head, her front paws dangling in the lyrkress¡¯ face and her hind legs seated on her shoulders. Claire didn¡¯t quite understand how the pose was supposed to be anything but uncomfortable for either party, but apparently the fox considered it one of her favourite spots, so she let her be without voicing any complaints.


    ¡°I know everyone that lives in the citadel,¡± said Beckard. ¡°This¡­ settlement doesn¡¯t really have much in terms of rigid structure, but I¡¯m the closest thing there is to its mayor.¡±


    ¡°Wow, you¡¯re a mayor? So is this really a city? How many people live here anyway?¡±


    ¡°A few hundred,¡± said the cat, as he groomed his ears. ¡°But if you ignore all the lazy cowards that do nothing but drink themselves to death, then maybe three or four dozen at most.¡±


    ¡°Wait, people in real towns don¡¯t drink all the time? Dad told me it was normal.¡±


    ¡°It is,¡± said Claire. ¡°Sometimes.¡±


    ¡°Alcoholism is common, yes, but it¡¯s rarely ever as chronic as it is here,¡± said the cat, as he stopped in front of a medium-sized house.


    ¡°Oh¡­ so dad really does have a problem. I knew it!¡±


    Beckard fiddled with one of the feathers stuck in his hat. ¡°The people who live here happen to have¡­ an infinite supply, so it comes a lot cheaper than it would outside of Llystletein.¡±


    I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever tried any of the authority skill¡¯s drinks.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard about that! Dad told me that you have to use money and stuff, and it¡¯s really complicated because the nobles are assholes and tax you.¡±


    ¡°I like taxes,¡± said Claire.


    Beckard fiddled with his hat. ¡°We tried to put together a sort of monetary system, but it didn¡¯t work. Bartering is better, with the population being what it is.¡±


    The door opened as the cat stepped onto the porch; he didn¡¯t even have to knock. Behind the entrance stood a tiny elven man with a frame thin enough to border on the verge of unhealthy. He was so short that Claire nearly mistook him for a ten year old child, his racially characteristic baby face not helping in the slightest. Like every other pureblooded elf, Zelos possessed a grand total of zero rugged features. Beards and body hair, features that other races commonly shared, were far beyond the scope of his growth; not even curses or spells were capable of providing elves with anything but the hair on their heads.


    ¡°Sylvie? What are you doing here?¡± The elf¡¯s finger-length knife-shaped ears twitched as he looked past the hairless cat.


    ¡°Hi dad!¡± She jumped off Claire¡¯s head, got up on her hind legs and started wagging her tail. ¡°I happened to be around because of some proctory things I had to do, and stopping by seemed like a good idea anyway, since you haven¡¯t visited in a while. Mom¡¯s starting to get a little crazy.¡±


    ¡°Right. I¡¯ll head over tomorrow,¡± said the elf. ¡°I¡¯m just about to finish working on my latest theory.¡±


    ¡°This seems like private business, and I¡¯d hate to intrude, so I¡¯ll be taking my leave,¡± said Beckard.


    ¡°Thanks Beck. I¡¯d appreciate it if you could keep this whole ordeal under wraps,¡± said Zelos. ¡°As I¡¯m sure you know, most people don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no need to worry, friend. I won¡¯t say a word to anyone,¡± said the cat. The look on his face likely would have been a handsome smile, if he still had fur. Instead, it came off as menacing, disturbing even. ¡°Though, I do believe everyone is already aware that you happen to be in a bit of a¡­ bizarre relationship.¡±


    ¡°Right. Thanks to Fred.¡±


    ¡°That, and it¡¯s been a few decades now. You¡¯ve brought it up a few times, so I think most folks would have learned about it one way or another, even without Frederick¡¯s loud mouth.¡±


    The elf sighed.


    Beckard smiled as he turned around and stepped off the elf¡¯s front deck. ¡°Either way, I wouldn¡¯t worry about it. If you need me, I¡¯ll be in my office. And that goes for the ladies as well.¡±


    With a cordial bow, the feline left the way he came, his rubbery shoes not making so much as a squeak. Watching him go left Claire feeling conflicted. On one hand, he bothered her; his appearance was alarmingly grotesque, his aura was bizarre, and the complete lack of sound that accompanied his person left her feeling somewhat creeped out. But on the other, he seemed like a true man of the cloth.


    ¡°Sorry, Sylvie, what were you saying?¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ I don¡¯t remember anymore.¡±


    ¡°Me either.¡±


    The father-daughter pair looked at each other; neither seemed capable of putting together a coherent picture of the past few minutes.


    ¡°You were talking about your mother,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Right! Dad, you really need to visit! Mom¡¯s already starting to chew on chairs again!¡± said the vixen. ¡°Oh, and this is a new friend I made, her name¡¯s Claire. She¡¯s been doing torch things and has to kill some lords and stuff, so I thought it¡¯d be a good idea if I brought her here so you could give her some advice.¡±


    Pulling back her hood, the lyrkress put on her best blush as she brought her hands together and twiddled her thumbs.


    ¡°H-hi¡­ I¡¯m um¡­¡± Her thighs fidgeted as her eyes flickered between the man and the ground, her ears fluttering violently throughout. ¡°I¡¯m Claire, frostblight lyrkress. It¡¯s nice to meet you, sir.¡±


    Her lips slowly curved up as she looked him in the eyes for exactly two seconds before quickly turning away. The most innocent smile money could buy.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m Zelos, h-high wood elf.¡±


    The man froze up and started stuttering like a mouse before a snake. Despite having a daughter, his reaction remained almost as childlike as his appearance, his blush so intense that it reached all the way to his ears.


    High elf? He has three ascensions?


    Sylvia also froze upon seeing the display, albeit for a completely different reason. Unlike her father, she was fully aware of what the half-centaur was doing.


    ¡°I can see why your wife thinks you¡¯d cheat on her.¡± Seeing that he was about to be warned either way, Claire dropped all pretence of innocence, stuck out her tongue, and flashed an impish smirk.


    Zelos¡¯ eyes opened wide as his face went as white as a sheet. ¡°Grant put you up to this, didn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°I owed him a favour,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! Mom¡¯s gonna freak out and throw a huge fit!¡±


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be the first time,¡± said the elf, with a tired sigh. ¡°You would think that Dixie would be more understanding, knowing that it was a prank, but she¡¯s never exactly been very reasonable. I wish she would walk a mile in my shoes, sometimes.¡±


    Sylvia stamped her front paws against the wood. ¡°Oh, shut up Dad! This is all your fault in the first place! Mom wouldn¡¯t have to freak out as much if you weren¡¯t so nervous around girls!¡±


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    ¡°I really wish I wasn¡¯t,¡± said the high elf, as he pinched one of his ears, ¡°but I also wish she¡¯d be more understanding. This isn¡¯t the first time it¡¯s happened, and I might have to cancel my plans and stay away from Darkwood Hollow until she forgets.¡±


    Claire was tempted to insert herself into the conversation and criticise the man for not owning up to his mistakes, but quickly decided against it. The father-daughter pair had already completely forgotten her and moved onto blaming everything else, and she saw no reason to reintroduce herself into the conflict.


    ¡°Wait¡­ is that why you don¡¯t come home sometimes? Even when you¡¯re done working and stuff?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes,¡± he admitted.


    ¡°Now that I think about it¡­ mom has a really short fuse, but she also has a pretty bad memory, huh?¡± Finally calmer, Sylvia plopped down on all fours. ¡°She always forgets things if no one reminds her.¡±


    I think that goes for more than just her.


    ¡°Well, she is a fox,¡± said Zelos.


    ¡°Hey! What¡¯s that supposed to mean!? I¡¯m a fox too!¡±


    ¡°Yes, but you¡¯re also half wood elf.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right. I forget about that sometimes,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I know.¡± The elf chuckled as he stepped into his house. "Now, why don¡¯t you come in?¡±


    His home was surprisingly cozy for something built in the middle of a ruined fortress. The walls were adorned with all manner of plants, but unlike the ones that plagued the rest of the ancient castle, there was both rhyme and reason to their arrangement; the vines grew in the spaces between the wooden boards that made up the walls and served as natural insulators. One particularly prominent tendril even moved to close the door and fill in any remaining gaps. Its behaviour almost made it seem like some sort of servant, but she knew better than to assume sentience on the part of a random plant. Not with a wood elf around, at least.


    Though the home was large enough to sport a number of reasonably sized rooms, there were only two. One was a small isolated space off in one of the corners, likely a restroom, and the other was a hodgepodge of everything else. There was a bed next to a fireplace, which in turn was placed right beside a desk with thousands of pages strewn over and around it. Bookshelves of all different shapes and sizes were arranged to form what almost looked to be a maze in the middle of the house, with a dining table on one end and a couch on the other.


    ¡°Excuse the mess, I¡¯ve been busy lately.¡± Guiding his guests to a small round table near the doorway, Zelos pulled two chairs and a pillow out from underneath a mountain of scribbled pages and sat on top of the shorter wooden implement. ¡°Would either of you like anything? Maybe a drink or a snack?¡±


    He was surprisingly courteous for someone so messy, speaking only after both his guests had settled down. Sylvia had naturally gotten on the high chair, as it was the only way she could have reached the table without positioning herself on top of it, whereas Claire was left with the pillow. She didn¡¯t mind, of course. It seemed to be the most suitable option, given that her height far exceeded that of the furniture¡¯s.


    ¡°Do you have any of those super tasty dried fish you always make? I haven¡¯t had any of that in ages!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Oh and I¡¯d like some tea too please!¡±


    Claire blinked at the fox. ¡°Didn¡¯t you just eat?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but dad¡¯s dried fish is super tasty so I always have room for more!¡±


    The elf smiled and began scratching the back of the fox¡¯s ears. ¡°For you, Sylvie, always.¡± One of the vines reached across the room, grabbed a small bag from beside the cauldron, and dropped it off on the table, alongside three cups of hot water drawn from the bubbling pot. In what seemed to be an act of self-mutilation, the plant tore off a few of its own leaves and stirred them in to make a sort of dark green brew.


    Sylvia grabbed a large salted fillet from the bag and immediately started chewing on it. ¡°Thanks dad, I love you!¡±


    Zelos gave the fox another pat on the head. To the father-daughter pair, it looked like a natural act, but Claire thought it rather strange. She couldn¡¯t tell if he was treating her like a pet, or if that was simply how a loving father was meant to treat his children in private.


    ¡°To what do I owe the pleasure?¡± asked the elf, as he took a sip from his cup. His eyes were no longer on the fox, turned instead in Claire¡¯s direction.


    ¡°I want to know about a few lords.¡± The lyrkress flicked her forked tongue before lifting the cup to her lips. ¡°This is good tea.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a secret recipe, taught only to high elves,¡± he said, with a toothy, boyish grin. ¡°Which lords?¡±


    After taking a moment to assess the man, who had suddenly shifted to a more professional demeanour, Claire decided to deal with him as she would a diplomat. She smiled amicably, extended an arm, and spoke in a tone warm enough to make her foxy companion do a double take. ¡°Sylvia told me that you could tell me about the lord of the chasm. I¡¯d also like information on the holt and slough, if you have it.¡±


    ¡°Chasm, slough, and holt?¡± After shaking her hand, he paused for a moment to observe her, his deep amber eyes turning a shade of green. ¡°Level 53 rogue-fighter hybrid, level 42 mage¡­ And a level 50 racial class? Congratulations, that must have been recent.¡± The elf smiled awkwardly as he took a sip from his cup. ¡°Normally, I would say that a combat-focused racial class is more of a burden than it is a blessing, but in these circumstances, it¡¯s more likely to be the other way around.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not eye of perception, is it?¡± asked Claire. The judge skill could only reveal surface level details and she didn¡¯t see any other way for him to have acquired the information.


    ¡°No, not exactly. It¡¯s a racial skill, similar, but more potent.¡± He shrugged, casually, as if he hadn¡¯t just violated her privacy¡ªnot that it mattered. A high elf in a wooded land was capable of vaporising her in an instant whether he was aware of her stats or not.


    ¡°As for Sylvia¡­¡± He did the same trick, looking instead at the fox. ¡°Wow, level one t¡ª¡± He was cut off by a tail suddenly sealing his mouth.


    ¡°Shhhh! Dad! You¡¯re not supposed to tell her!¡±


    He smiled sheepishly as he picked her off the table and plopped her back in her seat. ¡°Right. I nearly forgot.¡±


    ¡­It runs in the family.


    ¡°I think you should start with the lord of the slough,¡± he said, turning back to the half-lamia. ¡°The chasm is somewhere around level 150, but the slough is only sitting at about 100. They¡¯re a lot stronger than other similarly levelled monsters. It may be wise to gain a few levels and find some companions before you tackle any lords.¡±


    Sylvia¡¯s ears drooped. ¡°Awwww¡­ can¡¯t the chasm come first?¡±


    The elf smiled and handed her another piece of dried fish, remedying her mood in a heartbeat. ¡°I know you want to try eating it, but it¡¯ll have to wait.¡±


    ¡°I want to evolve my secondary class before I challenge any of them.¡± The empty cup she set on the table was retrieved, refilled, and returned by a plant as she spoke. ¡°But I haven¡¯t been growing as quickly since I ascended.¡±


    The elf nodded as he grabbed a piece of fish for himself. ¡°As is the standard. You¡¯ll want to fight monsters that are at least once ascended if you want anything but a pittance. There are a good number of them on this floor, and you¡¯ll likely find even more if you head to Crabby Crags.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an instanced area, like Borrok Peak and the Green Belt, if you¡¯ve ever been to either of those.¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Great. Sylvie should be able to take you there, whenever you¡¯re ready. Once you stop gaining as much experience there, you¡¯ll likely have to move onto the mirewulves.¡±


    ¡°How tough are they?¡±


    The elf brought a hand to his chin. ¡°They can be anywhere from trivial to almost unbeatable. It¡¯s a matter of compatibility.¡±


    ¡°Ok.¡± Claire made a mental note as she thanked the elf for his advice. ¡°What¡¯s after that?¡±


    He frowned and clasped his hands together as he brought them to his chin. ¡°I don¡¯t think I should tell you right away. You seem like the type to get ahead of yourself, and I¡¯d rather not get one of my daughter¡¯s friends killed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡±


    ¡°Yes you are!¡± said Sylvia, who had finally finished slowly chewing on her fish. ¡°Remember all that stuff you said about what you did in Borrok Peak?¡±


    Claire averted her eyes. ¡°Okay, maybe a little. How did you know?¡±


    The elf smiled. ¡°Most of the people living in the citadel have already retired from all the fighting, but you might be able to find some decent companions if you ask around. I wouldn¡¯t try to tackle the lords on your own.¡±


    He dodged the question.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather go alone.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Wait, Claire? Are you sure? Half the reason I brought you here is because I thought you might wanna find some people to fight with, ¡®cause otherwise it¡¯s gonna be super risky!¡± said Sylvia, nearly dropping her cup.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ if you say so...¡±


    ¡°If you ever change your mind, there¡¯s a really interesting fellow that arrived just the other day,¡± said Zelos, bringing a hand to his chin. ¡°He¡¯s a few levels short of where you¡¯re at, but he¡¯s got some rather absurd classes, and he¡¯s been looking to do some hunting. Let Beck or I know. We can put you in contact with him.¡±


    ¡°Really? That sounds exciting. What kind of classes?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Well for o¡ªactually, I think it would be more interesting if he was to tell you them himself, assuming Claire decides to team up with him.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± said Claire.


    Zelos laughed. ¡°I¡¯m sure the kid would be devastated to hear that. He¡¯s been quite adamant about finding a group of strictly female companions.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s disgusting,¡± said Claire, with a visible scowl.


    ¡°He¡¯s young. You can¡¯t blame a man for having dreams.¡± The elf continued to chuckle as he drained the rest of his cup. ¡°Do you have anywhere to spend the night? You¡¯re welcome to stay with me, if you don¡¯t mind the mess. I¡¯m sure I can make an extra bed or two.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay! I already made this really nice tent thing on the beach,¡± said Sylvia, before standing up on her hind legs and crossing her front paws across her throat. ¡°And mom would kill you if you let Claire stay overnight.¡±


    Grimacing, Zelos put a hand against one of his brows. ¡°Good point. I would have to vanish for another season if that were to happen.¡±


    ¡°If you ever stay away for that long again, I¡¯ll start reminding her of all the times she thinks you cheated!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Sylvie¡­ please don¡¯t blackmail your father like that. At least not in front of a guest,¡± pleaded the elf.


    ¡°Too bad!¡±


    With a playful giggle, Sylvia leapt off her chair and made for the exit.


    ¡°Come on, Claire! Let¡¯s go.¡±


    The lyrkress nodded at the elf, set down her cup, and followed her furry companion out the front door. ¡°Thank you, Zelos.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, thanks Dad! See ya!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re very welcome.¡±


    His lips curved up, the elf watched the pair walk down the street before moving back to his desk and returning to his research. He had a thesis to complete, and no time to dawdle. Not unless he was willing to disappoint a certain dog-faced scholar.

 Chapter 76 - The Cursed Effigy VIII

    Chapter 76 - The Cursed Effigy VIII


    Though they had no business remaining, the half-bred pair didn¡¯t immediately abscond from the citadel. A simple ¡°let¡¯s explore,¡± from Claire had garnered an immediate cheer of approval from her co-conspirator and sent them on a journey through the city¡¯s back alleys. Looking around the various half-destroyed buildings, they located a cellar bolted shut by an ancient padlock. The aged metal was frail, shattering with the slightest touch to reveal a subterranean space filled with generations of dead plants. It was about the size of a small home, its walls lined with empty shelves.


    ¡°Is it just me or is it kind of weird that no one lives here?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°Do you think we were the first ones to find it?¡±


    Claire kicked the lid off a box and revealed the void that lay within. ¡°I doubt it. It''s already been stripped clean.¡±


    The only things left behind were old pieces of wood too frail to serve as anything but kindling. Claire was tempted to order her horse to eat them, just in case there was some loot left behind, but gave up on the idea after realizing that she would have to taste cobwebs as old as her great uncle. It wasn¡¯t as if she had anything against the thousand year old man, who was surprisingly kind and looked nowhere near as decrepit as his age would have otherwise suggested, but she couldn¡¯t help but feel that his many long years came hand in hand with a lack of sanitation. She had no intention of ever performing his funeral rites, even if it was explicitly requested of her.


    ¡°Awww¡­ Maybe the next house will have something better.¡±


    Following Sylvia¡¯s lead, Claire climbed out of the basement, left the ruined building, and continued through the alley she had found it in. Wandering through the back streets, they came upon a number of similar vaults, none of which had anything of value; they clearly hadn¡¯t been the first pair of prospective treasure hunters to think of raiding the citadel, and there was no doubt that they wouldn¡¯t be the last. Their exploratory trek eventually led to a large plaza. The square was a bit of an odd location. It was isolated from the city¡¯s main road, connected instead to a series of obscure alleyways. The only thing of note was a statue, an effigy made of polished stone sitting smack in the middle of the otherwise empty court.


    ¡°Claire?¡±


    Her heart accelerated as she eyed it. Slowly, her feet pushed forward, even though she had refrained from providing them with any instruction. Her eyes were just as insubordinate, refusing to budge when she tried to tear them away. The collapsed drunkard she inadvertently stepped on was noticed only in passing. She knew that he had groaned when crushed beneath the weight of her body. But she couldn¡¯t bring herself to care. Not with her senses overloaded. The thumping in her chest was too loud for her to hear, the dry discomfort in her throat too intense for her to feel, and her rapidly flicking tongue too insensitive for her to smell.


    ¡°Umm¡­ Claire?¡±


    Her lower body tingled as her ears fluttered. Quickly enough to blur.


    She felt the urge to run.


    Away, and at it.


    A set of thoughts she could hardly process robbed her mind of its function.


    ¡°Claire!¡±


    Because it was a catgirl.


    A statue of a catgirl, intricate enough to be mistaken for a real person.


    Her hands were curled as if they were tiny little paws and her eyes were narrowed joyfully as if to match the way her lips were twisted into a toothy, fanged grin. Her tail was standing, half stretched out, and her ears were raised to express the full extent of their beauty. The clothes she wore made her look like a server at a bar. An establishment that would see the lyrkress¡¯ patronage, time and time again.


    ¡°Come on, Claire! Snap out of it!¡±


    Even uncoloured, a bland dark grey, she was tempting enough to smother.


    ¡°Claaaaire! Oh, screw it!¡±


    There was a whistle followed by a dull thunk and a crack. Suddenly, the world started to rotate. A full ninety degrees. Everything pitched as she crashed into the floor, her head ringing.


    Her head cleared as the pain finally registered. Sylvia had hit her. Hard. Waves of anguish pulsed through her spine. Pain flooded her system. Every last nerve in her head screamed and wailed. It was almost as bad as the time Shoulderhorse had failed to eat the pyramid. Still breathing heavily, Claire closed her eyes as she pushed herself off the ground. Her body was finally her own again. And that was precisely why she kept her eyes off it. She knew she couldn¡¯t look, not without falling victim. Fortunately, she had the perfect solution in mind. Because as Sylvia had proven, violence was always the answer.


    Shoulderhorse? A familiar sensation appeared on her shoulder as she summoned the phantom pony. Eat it.


    She couldn¡¯t see or hear the oddly-shaped equine. But she could feel the joy it relished as it devoured the effigy that had activated her curse. With another few deep breaths, she finally stood up and opened her eyes to find the world dyed a deep shade of red. Blood was running down the side of her face, and a copious amount of it at that. Looking at her health provided an explanation. Nearly half of her life force was missing.


    ¡°Did you need to hit me that hard?¡±


    ¡°Whew! You¡¯re back!¡± Sylvia breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Yes! I did! I hit you lightly the first few times, but you weren¡¯t responding, so I had to give you a good smack.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Claire brought a hand to her face. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome! It¡¯s all Al¡¯s fault anyway. Stupid pervert.¡± Sylvia began humming a tune under her breath, one that soon enveloped both their bodies in a golden light. ¡°There, all better.¡±


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    Nodding, the lyrkress got to her feet and trudged her way over to the nearest building. She collapsed as soon as she arrived, her side slumped against the wall. She shook her head side to side as she tried to rebuff the cold sensation that welled up from within. But it refused to leave her alone. The urge to vomit grew with every passing moment. Every breath it took made it worse. The freezing air that entered her lungs made her shake and tremble, like a foal lost in an icy storm.


    ¡°Claire?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m okay.¡±


    She wanted to retch, to scream and reject the impulse that had overcome her.


    Because it wasn¡¯t a part of her.


    She refused to believe that the burning desire that had plagued her mind was something that could have possibly belonged to the lady raised as Claire Augustus. There was something else inside of her, something foreign lurking in the back of her mind, threatening to consume her.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    Blinking back tears, she hugged her shoulders and took deep breaths. ¡°Yes.¡± The crystal in her chest tore through her arms, but the pain was hardly noticeable with her self-loathing dialled to eleven.


    Still, the urge to vomit grew stronger with every passing moment.


    It felt like she had been violated.


    She wanted to scrub herself clean, to wash her insides with soap and purge the thing inside of her. But she had no idea where to start. And more importantly, she didn¡¯t want to face it. Even if she needed to stare it down to ensure it was thoroughly removed.


    ¡°You don¡¯t look okay¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she said, suppressing a whimper. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Claire grabbed a half-broken windowsill and used it to pull herself to her feet. ¡°Let¡¯s go. Back to camp.¡±


    The shame and revulsion were still there. The awful taste in her mouth refused to leave. She tried rinsing it out with stale water, but it didn¡¯t help. If anything, she felt like it was growing more intense. She didn¡¯t know how she was supposed to make it leave her alone. But evidently, remaining by the statue¡¯s remains was not the right answer.


    ___


    Claire continued to be plagued by the catgirl¡¯s curse, even after returning to camp. The sand was comfortable and its malleability allowed her to lay down without having to worry about her side, but she was barely able to get any sleep. Malefic visions ate away at her mind each time she closed her eyes. She wanted to rest, but drifting off to dreamland seemed more like a risk than it did a chance at respite; losing her consciousness meant losing the ability to resist.


    She had to hug Sylvia to calm her frayed nerves. Knowing that she was feeling under the weather, the fox didn¡¯t protest or try to break free, conducting herself as would a stuffed animal through the night. Still, she woke up soon after each bout of sleep, her dreams afflicted by the same haunting delusions that tormented her in her bouts of insomnia. She suspected that the phantom would have helped to solve the problem, but the one time she wanted to see the strange man was the one time he refused to show up.


    Come morning, the eyebag-laden lyrkress was only as rested as a soldier on night duty. She was still awake when the sun rose above the horizon and dyed the sea in its light and glory. Groaning, she slowly sat up, directed her gaze off into the distance, and stifled a yawn. There were visible bags under the former ritual mage¡¯s eyes. Her breaths were still ragged and laboured, but at the very least, she was no longer trembling and had much less difficulty directing her mind away from the intrusive thoughts that threatened to overwhelm it.


    Maybe doing something will help.


    The first idea that came to mind was to visit the cat-sith and ask him to teach her his skills. Having forgotten to ask him for their names, she wasn¡¯t sure of their value, but she doubted that obtaining them would serve as any sort of detriment. Even if they were useless, like lashing tailstrike and quadrupedal bloodrush, they could be ignored until absorbed into something more valuable. But she didn¡¯t want to go back to the citadel. Not yet.


    Killing things seemed like another decent use of her time. She was going to have to gain quite the number of levels if she wanted to become strong enough to take down a lord by herself. Thankfully, monsters in dungeons respawned; she had all the resources she needed on hand. All she needed to do was invest a few days in self-improvement. The slaughter of mindless beasts seemed like something that would likely help her take her mind off her worries, but she dismissed it in favour of finding a cow. If anything could make her feel better, it would be a perfectly seared steak, one of the few foods she had always enjoyed.


    ¡°Are you up?¡± she said, to the furball in her arms.


    ¡°Yup! Good morning Claire, hope you¡¯re feeling better.¡±


    Giving the fox one more squeeze, the bluescale set her down and stretched her arms. ¡°I am.¡± She summoned a stream of stale water and quickly washed her face as she spoke. ¡°Can you take me to the cows?¡±


    ¡°Sure!¡± Sylvia also did a bit of a stretch and stepped towards the beach, a bubble wrapping itself around her body before she touched the water. ¡°They¡¯re actually pretty close, since they like to hang out in the shallows.¡±


    Claire raised a brow. ¡°The cows can swim?¡±


    ¡°Yeah! And it looks like they¡¯re really good at it since some of them are moving really fast. You might not even be able to catch them.¡± Sylvia¡¯s voice remained crystal clear, even as she was fully submerged.


    Shrugging, the lyrkress followed the fox into the sea. The sensation that came with entering it was one she basked in. She could feel the flippers on her legs opening, even without her input. Thinking about it, her newfound body was just as foreign as the catgirl curse, but she didn¡¯t mind it nearly as much, if at all. It was something that she had chosen for herself, with the goddess present to guide her. Not a foreign invader that threatened to cast aside her dignity and make her something she wasn¡¯t.


    ¡°There¡¯s one right there.¡±


    Sylvia pointed at a strange four-flippered animal after a few minutes of walking along the seafloor. It was a brownish grey in terms of colour and hadn¡¯t a trace of fur.


    Claire frowned. ¡°That¡¯s not a cow.¡±


    The way the obese, eggplant-shaped creature was loafing around and staring off into space did somewhat remind Claire of a living steak, but it wasn¡¯t by any means the same thing.


    ¡°Yes it is! It¡¯s a sea cow,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think sea cows are cows.¡±


    ¡°They totally are! It¡¯s kinda like how palm trees are still trees, and seabirds are still just birds.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± Claire rolled her eyes.


    Rather than fleeing, the curious lardball swam over to the two terrestrial creatures. It even raised a fin, as if to say hello as it approached. Contact, however, seemed to be made entirely on its own terms. It shirked away from Claire¡¯s hand the moment she extended it, darting through the water with the speed and agility of a fish a hundredth its width.


    The lyrkress tried chasing it, but had no luck. She was able to boost her velocity by galloping through the sand, but the manatee still outpaced her. Even if she was faster, she likely wouldn¡¯t have been able to catch it. Unlike the half-cervitaur, the sea cow could turn on a dime and boost off in a random direction. Adding to its mobility was its ability to float. It wasn¡¯t bound to the seafloor, and though the water was relatively shallow, some parts were deep enough for it to shoot over her head, outside the reach of her arms.


    Claire tried pulling it, but force magic proved fruitless. It was so heavy that it didn¡¯t even seem to notice the vectors she applied to it.


    If she wanted to turn it into breakfast, she was going to come up with a more creative solution.


    And it just so happened that she had one in mind.

 Chapter 77 - The Descent

    Chapter 77 - The Descent


    Climbing onto a nearby island, Claire took to the sky and shot herself into the water like an arrow. It was already her third attempt, and despite the high velocity that came with the air-to-surface approach, victory remained outside her grasp. The sea cow would always dart out of the way at the last second, no matter how much speed she gained or how many minor adjustments she made to try and thwart it. Adding to the difficulty was the way the light diffracted beneath the surface. The living steak was never exactly where it looked from her airborne position and she would always have to guess its true location.


    Having failed thrice at emulating a petrel, the force mage switched strategies and propelled herself through the sea. Though the water wasn¡¯t exactly heavy, it was much denser than the air and imposed a hard limit on her speed. Even with her magic at full throttle, she could only move half as quickly as she could above the surface. Fine adjustments were also more difficult. Her tail was a lot slower to get into position; even the slightest change in her direction had to come with a brief delay. Still, the magic helped to overcome her greatest weakness, the propensity to sink like an anchor.


    Even with her mobility improved, Claire¡¯s face was never without a scowl, no doubt in part because her breakfast was darting around with nearly twice her speed. It swam a literal circle around her and stopped to point and arf when she failed to turn quickly enough to face it. Still grumbling, Claire pushed herself towards it again and kept to its left until it found itself stuck between the lyrkress and the shore. Ramping up to her maximum speed, she tried to grab it, but it ducked, weaved, and slipped right under her hand.


    Biting her lips, the lyrkress spun around and gave chase. As she kept her eyes on the not-bovine, she made note that its flippers were a major part of its submarine mobility. It beat them against the current whenever it tried to accelerate and twisted them when it needed to turn, both behaviours that she immediately began to replicate. Before long, she found herself a much more capable swimmer. Catching up to it was still beyond her, but she was able to swivel on a dime by opening her flippers and flapping them in opposite directions. Moving her legs also proved surprisingly helpful. Attempting to run under water, even without anything beneath her hooves, helped to keep her afloat.


    Her body wasn¡¯t the only thing she learned about. She had also started to uncover the manatee¡¯s flaws. Unlike the lyrkress, who was capable of breathing underwater, the eggplant-shaped pseudo-cow had to go up for the occasional breath. It was especially vulnerable after a sprint, often needing to surface for several consecutive seconds before diving back beneath the waves.


    Capitalising on one such opportunity was what finally allowed Claire to catch up to the more adept swimmer. She drove it into a shallow inlet after a long chase and boosted at it right as it surfaced. It tried to escape by leaping out of the water. An act made in futility.


    In the air, she was the one with superior mobility. She wrapped her arms around the beast the moment the two made contact. Only to have it slip right out of her grasp. Like a bar of soap in the bath.


    ¡°That did not just happen!¡±


    Log Entry 1806


    Force Manipulation has reached level 16.


    With an annoyed groan, the lyrkress fell back into the sea and slowly sank to the bottom. She was so vexed that she almost dumped all her points into agility, but stopped short of following through on the poor decision. She wanted to keep holding onto them until she was sure of how her ascension would affect the way she fought. So far, she had only a few opportunities to experiment, none of which had provided anything conclusive enough for her to form an opinion.


    ¡°Why are you trying so hard to capture it? Can¡¯t you just attack it?¡± asked Sylvia, who swam up beside her as the sea cow darted out of the inlet.


    ¡°It¡¯ll ruin the meat,¡± said Claire.


    She couldn¡¯t tell if it was an animal or a monster, and as evidenced by the fish she killed, Llystletein authority would only provide her the option to spawn something if it was the latter. Even then, she doubted that the skill was capable of providing anything palatable. Getting aggressive would do little beyond punching holes in all the various cuts of meat. Not that she knew anything about butchering a sea cow. Or a real cow, for that matter.


    Steak can be eaten raw¡­ Should I even bother trying to cook it?


    Licking her lips, Claire gave chase with renewed vigour. She kicked off the seafloor, treading the water as she beat her tail and pushed forward with all four of her other limbs, all moving perfectly in sync.


    Log Entry 1807


    You have acquired the Swimming skill.


    More force manipulation already?


    ¡­


    Wait.


    What?


    The log entry came so far out of left field that she didn¡¯t fully process it until she left the inlet. Frankly, a part of her had long given up on acquiring the skill. There were times where she thought herself the victim of some sort of curse, a bizarre malediction that barred her from ever learning it. But there it was, fresh in her logs, ten whole years after she had nearly drowned because she had just so happened to dive into a lake without supervision. She tried to open it and examine its details, but the skill vanished from her list before she could.


    Log Entry 1808


    The Unarmed Combat Mastery skill has been reclassified as a Frostblight Lyrkress skill. This reclassification has earned you a proficiency bonus.


    Log Entry 1809


    The Unarmed Combat Mastery skill evolved into Lyrkrian Martial Arts.


    Log Entry 1810


    The Swimming skill has been assimilated into Lyrkrian Martial Arts. This assimilation has earned you a proficiency bonus.


    Log Entry 1811


    The Lyrkrian Martial Arts skill has mutated into Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Three additional log entries came alongside the skill¡¯s advent and subsequent departure. Claire was left puzzled, half because she suddenly felt as if she was no longer being pulled towards the seafloor, and half because she recognized the sudden evolution as one she had failed to acquire during her ascension.


    With a strange sounding squeak, the sea cow turned around, and after a brief pause, swam over. It started swimming circles in front of her and using its flippers to push the water in her direction, but Claire was too busy reading and listening to care for it or any of its antics. Food was important, but not nearly as important as the ability to punch things in the face.


    Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts - Level 2


    Swimming is hard. Your head is harder. There is a lesson to be learned here, but you are unlikely to ever decipher it.


    Effects


    - You are neutrally buoyant.


    - You are capable of deflecting some projectiles with any of your limbs.


    - Your movements are no longer impeded by water, or by other fluids similar in quality or composition.


    - Improves all techniques that do not strictly require weapons, especially those that leverage your lyrkrian frame.


    - In combat, your strength is improved by 105% (75% + 15% per level) of your dexterity. Half of this bonus is lost if you are armed with a weapon that is not affected by your highest level weapon mastery skill.


    - Your physical attacks are imbued with frostblight. The damage you deal is increased by 12% (10% + 1%) per level when making physical contact with your target, increased twofold against targets susceptible to the power of ice. This bonus may also apply through indirect contact with ice magic as a catalyst.


    The extra strength it gave was less than that of what Unarmed Combat Mastery previously provided, but the downgrade was by no means permanent. Levelling the skill a few times would get her right back to where she was. Even with the temporary demerit taken into consideration, the evolution still seemed highly valuable; reading through it didn¡¯t give her a clear idea as to whether the additional frostblight damage only applied on barehanded attacks, but whatever the case, she was eager to test it, albeit not on the manatee.


    Her considerations complete, Claire continued to sit perfectly still, but the sea cow didn¡¯t take the bait. Somehow, it was able to sense her intentions, darting away with a squeal before she even thought about moving her hands. Seeing as how there weren¡¯t any other options, the lyrkress stretched her tail, cracked her neck, and shot after her prey.


    She could still feel the water¡¯s weight, but it no longer impeded her. It glided off her skin, or perhaps it was more accurate to say that she glided through it, as would a pair of skates atop a rink of ice. The sea was helping her, its currents acting as her escort. She could feel the waves against her skin, and by moving in tandem with them, she was able to boost her speed.


    As the more experienced of the two swimmers, the sea cow was still able to outperform her at first. Her newfound mobility did nothing to stop it from pulling off a fair number of last ditch evasive manoeuvres and slipping right out from between her fingertips. But it couldn¡¯t keep her off its tail forever. Every exchange boosted her speed; a few minutes was all she needed to finally secure it and bring it up to shore.


    ¡°Woah, you did it! It looked like you suddenly got a lot faster too. Did you finally learn to swim?¡± asked Sylvia, who was basking atop a nearby rock.


    Claire nodded as she set the surprisingly docile meat slab down in the sand. Much like a real cow, it didn¡¯t quite seem to mind being captured. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to cook i¡ª¡±


    A high-pitched voice, an odd surprised chirp, interrupted the half-lamia mid-sentence. Turning towards its source, Claire found the sea cow slowly backing away, its forehead dripping. For some odd reason, she couldn¡¯t quite help but think that it wasn¡¯t because the creature had just come out of the water.


    Sylvia blinked. ¡°Ummmm¡­ I think it just said that it thought you guys were just playing tag.¡±


    Claire looked between the fox and the cow. ¡°You can understand it?¡±


    ¡°Apparently!¡±


    The manatee breathed a sigh of relief as it flopped its way back over to the two halfbreeds. It even went as far as patting Claire on the tail, as if to compliment her sense of humour.


    This thing¡­ must be really stupid. She could feel a dark smile surfacing, but stopped just shy of letting it show on her face. ¡°Make a fire. I¡¯ll cut a piece from its flank.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s how you¡¯re supposed to cook a cow?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. But it¡¯s worth a try.¡±


    Another squeak emerged from the eggplant as it looked between the two in horror.


    ¡°Yes, I do know you can talk,¡± said Claire. ¡°I still want to eat you.¡±


    It looked at her with pleading eyes, but she suppressed a giggle and ignored it.


    ¡°Wait, you can understand it too?¡±


    ¡°Not at all.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Then how¡¯d you know what it said?¡±


    ¡°What else was it going to say?¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ right. Good point.¡± Sylvia smiled awkwardly. ¡°But ummm¡­ I don¡¯t really think we should eat it. I kind of feel sorry for it, and it¡¯s really cute¡­¡±


    The sea cow flubbed its way over to the fox, rolled into a ball, and did its best to hide behind her, squealing all the way.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Claire shrugged and sat down in the sand. ¡°I don¡¯t think it would have been very tasty anyway. It¡¯s not a real cow.¡±


    Despite the obvious good news, the manatee didn¡¯t seem pleased. It stamped its flippers in the sand as it made its way over, almost growling as it pointed at its own flank. I knew it. It really is stupid.


    ¡°So you want me to take a bite out of you to prove that you¡¯re tastier than a land cow?¡±


    The manatee nodded, froze, and suddenly broke into a sweat as it started shaking its head and squeaking.


    ¡°Claire, stop bullying it! I think it¡¯s gonna cry!¡±


    ¡°If you insist.¡± Stifling another giggle, she grabbed it by the tail and dragged it back into the sea. It swam away almost immediately as it hit the water, its terror striking her with a twinge of guilt. Making the poor thing suffer wasn¡¯t her intention, but its reactions had been amusing and served as a good distraction from everything else on her mind. ¡°I guess we¡¯ll need new breakfast plans now.¡±


    ¡°Well, maybe you can ask dad to teach you to cook or something. That might work.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± It took her a moment to steady her nerves. ¡°But I don¡¯t want to go back yet.¡±


    ¡°Ohh¡­ right.¡±


    Claire magically pulled a coconut out of a nearby tree, tore it in two, dumped all the excess liquid within, and tossed one half at the fox. ¡°Here.¡± It wasn¡¯t going to be enough, seeing as how her new body required much more fuel than it had before her ascension, but at least it was a start. Stale bread it is.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ so I¡¯ve been wondering, Claire¡­¡± The fox pawed at her share as she looked between it and the person that had so graciously decided to share it.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve actually been meaning to ask you this since yesterday, but why are you eating the green ones?¡±


    ¡°Because the brown ones are rotten.¡±


    ¡°Actually, I think you might have that kinda backwards. The brown ones are the ones that are ripe, and I don¡¯t think the green ones are as good for eating.¡±


    Claire stared blankly as Sylvia skittered her way up a tree and retrieved a more mature nut. A quick swoosh of the tail cleaved the fruit into two perfect halves, each with many times the flesh that their greener counterparts contained.


    ¡°See? It smells better.¡± She nibbled on a piece of its flesh. ¡°And tastes better too.¡±


    Slowly walking over, the lyrkress retrieved the ripened nut and took a bite. After chewing for a few seconds, she dug a hole, buried its greener counterpart in the sand, and sat down on top of it.


    ¡°We will never speak of this again.¡±


    Needless to say, the fox made sure to mention it a good number of times. Especially in front of other people.

 Chapter 78 - The Descent II

    Chapter 78 - The Descent II


    Claire took to the skies after a breakfast of bread and ripened coconuts. Her destination was not the citadel, but the savannah, the territory swarmed with a countless number of monsters. It wasn¡¯t the most efficient use of her time. She knew that the best course of action would have been to visit Beckard and learn whatever skills he had to offer before jumping into another horde, but she decided against it so she could focus on experimenting with lyrkrian martial arts. It was clearly a logical decision completely uninfluenced by her experiences or emotions. Clearly.


    ¡°What are you gonna fight anyway? Do you have anything specific in mind?¡± asked the fox sitting on her head.


    ¡°No. I¡¯ll wander around.¡±


    ¡°I guess I¡¯ll follow from a little further back so I don¡¯t get caught up in anything. Be careful, okay? Some of the monsters here are a lot stronger than the ones you were fighting in Mirewood Meadow.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Sylvia¡¯s concern wasn¡¯t entirely unwarranted. The fox could tell, from the way the bluescale would sometimes suddenly clench her fists, that she was still rattled by the previous night¡¯s events, but if Claire insisted that she was alright, then there was nothing that the four-legged fairy could do.


    ¡°Well, if you say so¡­ I kinda liked playing with the sea cows though. Maybe we should do that again instead?¡±


    The manatee that fled in terror had soon returned with some of its friends in the middle of their breakfast, and surprisingly, not for revenge. The group had been much more interested in lazing around by the campfire and eating any vegetation tossed their way.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, Sylvia. Stop worrying.¡±


    With an exaggerated sigh, Claire gave herself one last push and boosted up above the floating island. Before her lay a beautiful expanse, rolling hills upon rolling hills of nothing but tall dried grasses swaying in the wind, a scene reminiscent of the golden fields she so often saw just outside the capital. Though she had just finished a meal, she was tempted to give the grass a try, just to see if it would taste anything like the hay she had so often consumed back at the manor. Unlike most other members of the nobility, she lacked familiarity with specific varieties and their unique traits, but it wasn¡¯t as if she detested the staple. It made up more than half of the military¡¯s rations, and the manor always had a stock ready for anyone that felt the need to snack.


    Seeing no reason to resist that exact urge, she landed in a particularly dry patch by the floating island¡¯s edge and squatted down so she could retrieve it. Sylvia took the opportunity to jump off and stretch, but rather than leaning forward and extending her body, as foxes usually did, she got up on her hind legs and raised her front paws as high as they would go.


    Once content, she turned to the lyrkress and found her chewing on a bundle of fibre. ¡°Uhh¡­ Claire? What are you doing?¡±


    The rogue swallowed. ¡°Eating.¡±


    ¡°I can see that! I mean, why are you eating grass?¡±


    ¡°I wanted to try it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s grass! Why would you eat grass when there¡¯s all sorts of other stuff? Right in front of you too!¡± she pointed at a small yellow shrub dotted with orange berries. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you normally try one of those first?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m half cervitaur.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and deer love berries and stuff!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a deer.¡± She took another bite, just to confirm that she wasn¡¯t imagining the nostalgic flavour. It tastes¡­ cheap.


    ¡°But that¡¯s what a cervitaur is! Ughhhh!! You¡¯re really difficult sometimes, you know that?¡± grumbled the fox.


    ¡°I know.¡± Somewhat satisfied with the observation, Claire thrusted a yellowed bundle towards her four-legged friend. ¡°Want to try some?¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ no thanks.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not terrible.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay. I don¡¯t really think foxes can eat grass.¡±


    Claire shrugged and raised it back towards her mouth. It was far from delicious, tasting almost exactly like the low-quality legumes meant for the prisoners her father kept in the manor¡¯s basement, but at the very least, the taste was decent enough for her to register it as something. Nostalgia was the greater of the two forces that drove her consumption. It had been a long time since she last visited the basement. Her father had added extra security measures after learning that she was a frequent visitor. She had often tasked the former lords and generals to dispose of the frogs her mother kept trying to feed her.


    Her lunch already decided, Claire raised her eyes and looked over the savannah. There were monsters everywhere; the flat plain made it incredibly difficult for anything taller than a dwarf to stay hidden. She had what seemed like a hundred possible targets, and no idea which she was meant to select. It was too open. She was sure to be watched no matter what she chose to attack and there was no telling when an idle observer would suddenly decide to join the battle, nor would there be any indication if she happened to attract something far out of her league.


    Her first thought was to get around the problem by opting into stealth, but the size of her frame made it impossible. She was much too tall. Until she changed her height.


    A moment of consideration led her to transform into a full-on snake girl. As a humanoid serpent, she could easily slither through the undergrowth without attracting any attention. The spike in her chest stopped her from pressing her whole body against the soil, but she was hardly the only lamia with such a problem¡ªnot that there were other lamias with true ice shards stuck in their chests. She was pretty sure that she was the only one, pure or half bred, suffering from that exact conundrum, but they at least had something similar going on. Most females of her mother¡¯s species, especially those of the gorgonian lineage, were relatively well endowed, possessing curvy hips and bountiful bosoms that often impeded their slithering. Oddly enough, the same could be said for the other half of her family tree. Centaurs were also known for having extremely large chests, with cervitaurs being no exception. But in spite of all the family history, the literal generations upon generations of portraits featuring ladies with voluptuous proportions, Claire found herself an exception. All her nutrients had gone to her ears instead, a lossless merit, as far as she was concerned.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Now that she had a chest spike¡ªand more importantly a lamian form¡ªthe halfbreed could finally experience all her foremothers¡¯ inconvenience and discomfort for herself. And that was exactly what she did. She pressed her entire body against the ground, burying the spike in the crumbly dry soil that lay beneath the vegetation. With no more wooden floors or giant slabs of ice to worry about, she found that her chest was not nearly as bad as advertised. While it certainly did slow her down, pushing a tad bit harder allowed her to cleave straight through the dirt as would some sort of living plough. This isn¡¯t nearly as bad as everyone said it was. Then again, I¡¯m not¡­ normal.


    Log Entry 1812


    Lyrkrian Shapeshifting has reached level 5.


    Slowly, silently, she wormed her way over to her first victim, a large spotted canine with massive rocky tusks and a short, curly tail akin to that of a pig¡¯s. There hadn¡¯t been any obvious ways for the force mage to select a target, so she went with the tried and true method of seeking the least aesthetically pleasing straggler.


    Assassinate kicked in as she activated phantom blade and brought both her daggers down on the back of its neck. It was, by all accounts, a fatal blow. But the monster¡¯s tough, stone-like skin proved far too durable¡ªa feat that her weapons failed to replicate. Neither the horn nor the bone were able to bear the force of the blow. One gave in and crumpled while the other cracked and split in half. Needless to say, both were immediately discarded, cast into the field as she leapt away from the botched kill.


    The hyena-boar spun around and roared at her, its eyes glowing with rage. One critical failure was all it had taken to turn the assassation attempt into a head-on confrontation, the exact situation that she had been trying to avoid.


    Grumbling internally, Claire undid her transformation right as the monster charged. Its height barely differed from her own, but it had many times her bulk. Each heavy step was accompanied by a thud loud enough for her to think that the creature was shaking the whole island. Though hefty, the beast was incredibly fast; the distance between them vanished in the blink of an eye. But the lyrkress didn¡¯t panic. Because she was even faster.


    A quick leap to the side was all it took for her to stop the pig-like hyena from goring her. It swung its face and slashed with its tusks to catch her while she was in the air, but she countered the attempt with a kick to the jaw. Like her weapons, her hooves remained incapable of breaking past the ridiculously tough skin hidden beneath its fur, but she had more than enough power to displace its face.


    There was a brief shattering sound as the two made contact, and not the sort that came with the breaking of bone. It was more hollow and high pitched, almost reminiscent of the sound a glass bottle would make when brought down on the back of someone¡¯s head. It took a moment for Claire to realise that it was the enchantment, the most obvious indicator of which was the icy aura wrapped around her foot.


    She had been caught completely off guard by the extra effect, but the monster didn¡¯t feel the same. In fact, it hardly seemed to notice. It simply continued on its way before turning around and breaking into a second primitive charge. The lyrkress thought that it was trying to lure her into a false sense of security, so she kept her guard raised, but nothing special seemed to happen. Another casual sidestep was all she needed to avoid taking damage.


    Again, the mage counter attacked, this time with ice magic. She raised an empty hand and shot a large bolt straight at the hyena¡¯s flank. But like her daggers, it too had failed to penetrate. The frozen blade bounced right off the spotted pig without so much as leaving a scratch.


    Expecting the creature to charge at her for a third time, the rogue drew her mace so she could face it head on. But the monster never turned. It simply continued to run off into the distance without ever looking back.


    Had Claire been anyone else, she likely would have dismissed the encounter as a lesson well learnt and moved onto a softer, squishier target. But Claire was Claire, which was to say that she was an avid non-believer in the sunk cost fallacy. With her brow twitching and her fangs clenched, the bluescale shifted to a four-legged form and galloped after the hyena boar. It was only running about half her speed, so she was able to catch up and start hitting it with her mace, but again, it didn¡¯t care. It didn¡¯t even bother facing her as it continued to make a beeline straight for the horizon.


    Having had more than enough frustration for the day, Claire summoned her offence-oriented spirit guardian and flung it straight at the giant dog pig. Shouldersnake had no trouble latching on, biting down, and injecting its fangs straight into the monster¡¯s carotid. Alternating between all her available poisons, she slowed it down even further by making it sneeze and hampered its movements by filling its body with gunk.


    The boar started barking and squealing as its soft interior was exposed to her attacks. It finally stopped running and turned to face her, slashing and stabbing with its tusks as one would a trident, but it wasn¡¯t able to make contact. She ducked under the first attack, leapt over the second, and kicked it in the face to redirect a third. The fourth blow grazed her chest, only to provide her with a discovery that doubled as a reminder.


    Its tusks were softer than her true ice shard.


    And that was all she needed to know.


    The lyrkress leapt into the air, joined Shouldersnake on its back, and enveloped the monster¡¯s skull in a tight embrace.


    Log Entry 1813


    You have slain a level 55 Llystletein Field Turtle.


    This feat has earned you the following bonuses


    - 1 point of agility


    - 6 points of dexterity


    - 2 points of strength


    - 3 points of wisdom


    Next time I see Alfred, we¡¯re going to have a sit-down about names.


    Log Entry 1814


    You have unlocked a new spawnable drink item.


    Log Entry 1815


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Bloodthief, has reached level 54.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Force Mage, has reached level 43.


    You have gained 12 ability points.


    Log Entry 1816


    Bloodthief has reached level 10.


    Log Entry 1817


    Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts has reached level 3.


    Log Entry 1818


    Phantom Blade has reached level 6.


    Claire scanned her surroundings as she wiped the blood off her chest. For some strange reason, there was nothing attacking her. The savannah¡¯s denizens did little but look on, idly, with their eyes glazed and their spirits seemingly nonpresent. Only upon taking a second look did she realise that there was something very strange going on. The monsters were sitting around in interspecies groups. That, in and of itself, was not necessarily something out of the ordinary; symbiotes, parasites, and interspecies friendships were all commonplace. What caught her eye was the distribution. Obvious predator and prey species were seated alongside each other without any of them showing even the slightest bit of anxiety. Rodents, cats, wolves, and deer were all gathered in the same spots, sometimes even grooming each other as casually as if it were not a clear violation of the natural order.


    Something wasn¡¯t right.


    The more she thought about it, the more obvious it became. The land turtle wasn¡¯t running away from her. It was trying to escape from something else. And looking off into the distance, at the encroaching shadow, gave her a fairly good idea of exactly what that something was.

 Chapter 79 - The Descent III

    Chapter 79 - The Descent III


    From behind a distant hill approached a deer whose height neared that of a ten story building. Its steps looked slow and graceful, but its stride was so long that it took only a moment for it to transform from a distant speck on the horizon to an immediate looming threat. Even at a glance, the branches growing from its head were immediately apparent. It was a blossoming crown, a series of wooden limbs adorned with a thousand glowing flowers. But flamboyant as the wreath was, it failed to hold the halfbreed¡¯s attention.


    Claire¡¯s eyes were locked instead on the floral cervid¡¯s piercing gaze. The longer she stared, the more peculiar it seemed. Its glowing irises were in flux, spiralling through a mix of colours as defined as a rainbow swirling in a cauldron, but at the same time, through a means she failed to understand, she could tell that only one of them was correct. It was almost reminiscent of the magical box she saw in her dreams, impossible to perceive, despite being right before her eyes. The headache-inducing spectacle was disturbing, off-putting, warm, and welcoming. All at once. Like she was being pulled into an unwanted, gentle embrace.


    The other monsters seemed to think the deer some sort of king or idol. They stared at it, unmoving, captivated by its regal aura like an audience before the work of a genius playwright. Claire felt a sense of foreboding build in her chest. Whatever the cervid was, she knew it wasn¡¯t to be trifled with, at least not without a plan. She had to run, but her legs wouldn¡¯t budge. At most, she could get them to twitch, but never anything more. The force of the monster¡¯s psionic might overpowered her bodily functions and forced her to remain in place. It almost felt like she was on the receiving end of a paralyzing gaze, her own behaviour mimicking that of the creatures she had forcibly dominated. Even Shouldersnake was frozen. The spirit was stock-still, refusing to respond to any of her commands.


    She could feel a twinge of discomfort well up inside of her, spawned from a lack of agency. The cold, seeping sensation did nothing but grow as the deer drew closer, rising into a wave of dread as she found herself enveloped by the cervid¡¯s floral scent. All it needed to do was step on her. Her bones would be crushed and her insides would be ground to a paste beneath its weight. She would hardly be any better off if it opted for inaction. She couldn¡¯t breathe in its presence; two hours was all the time that needed to pass for her to die. But it did neither of those things, choosing instead to grow a branch from one of its antlers and offer her a fresh, ripe peach.


    The lyrkress knew that it was not to be taken. She couldn¡¯t explain why or how she knew, but something inside of her was rejecting the fruit on a fundamental level, screaming at her to make an immediate escape. But she couldn¡¯t pull away. Her hands were being drawn to the morsel by some sort of external pressure. And it wasn¡¯t force magic.


    Thinking of vector manipulation reminded Claire of the newest way she¡¯d learned to use it. With a twitch of the tail, she propelled herself forward, with her body remaining paralyzed until she hit the ground. The pain that accompanied the impact broke whatever spell had kept her bound. Just in time for her to raise her head and find the deer stomping around and wildly flailing its horns, completely enraged. The monsters she presumed to be its underlings were getting kicked through the air or squashed underfoot, but it didn¡¯t seem to be the slightest bit concerned with their safety.


    Though the monarch was a cold-hearted tyrant, its subjects remained loyal enough to respond to its rage. Warcries erupted from the field as countless monsters got to their feet and prepared for battle. Knowing the mess that would soon ensue, Claire immediately chose to escape. She propelled herself into the air and boosted away from the area with all the speed she could muster. As sustained flight was still outside the scope of her abilities, she soon came crashing right back down, but repeating the process several times, she eventually managed to flee the giant cervid¡¯s domain. Still, she kept running and jumping at top speed, stopping only after she was absolutely certain that she was no longer being chased.


    ¡°Wow, that was close! I almost can¡¯t believe you got out of that in one piece.¡± A voice came from above. Looking at its source, Claire found Sylvia, who spoke as she leapt off a nearby cloud.


    Claire frowned. ¡°Those deer trees are obnoxious.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re kinda like lesser lords. Jumping in and messing with them is really hard unless you know exactly what you¡¯re doing.¡±


    ¡°Tell me that earlier next time.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the one that said you were just gonna wander around! I even warned you!¡±


    ¡°Be more specific.¡±


    ¡°Gosh, you¡¯re so demanding! Have you already forgotten that I¡¯ve never actually been here? I barely know any more than you do!¡±


    ¡°I seriously doubt that.¡±


    ¡°Well it¡¯s true,¡± huffed the fox.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it is.¡±


    Scanning the savannah, the bluescale found herself wandering through a depopulated patch. The area where she first landed housed over ten times as many monsters. The only ones she could see, from where she stood, were distant specks on the horizon, with each group gathered around its own massive deer.


    What was that place Zelos mentioned? Crabby Crags? I wonder if there are any deer there¡­


    Sylvia perked up, stood up onto her hind legs, and poked her head above the grass. ¡°Woah¡­ Whoever¡¯s fighting over there is insane.¡±


    ¡°Where?¡±


    ¡°There.¡±


    Following the fox¡¯s outstretched paw led her to yet another deer, off in a completely different direction. Unable to see or hear any of the commotion, Claire moved closer, peeled off her hood, and raised her ears. She picked up on the first bit of sound after a few minutes of walking, but wasn¡¯t able to see anything until the auditory stimulus was crystal clear.


    Off in the distance, she saw a pair of centaurs standing in awe as a large red rodent weaved through a crowd of monsters with two massive metal cleavers in tow. The squirrel¡¯s approach to combat bordered on suicidal. Speed was the only thing that differentiated him from a berserker. He was in the middle of the crowd, sliding underneath charging hyena-pigs, jumping over chimeras, and meeting flame-clad hippos head on. One wrong move was all it would take for the veaber to die, but he proceeded with utmost confidence. The mindless lunatic screamed all sorts of nonsense about protagonists and plot armour as he courted death, teasing it at every given opportunity.


    As much as it annoyed her, Claire had to admit that he was doing a good job of surviving, but it didn¡¯t look like he would be getting through the crowd anytime soon. He only hit what he could. Most of the monsters that he managed to hurt would at least partially regenerate by the time he was able to inflict another wound. His whole approach appeared as would a circus act, but somehow, he was whittling down the mob, slowly and chaotically working through it like a tiny whirlwind.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°That veaber¡¯s a total psycho!¡± said Sylvia.


    Claire pinched the bridge of her nose. She could already feel a headache approaching. ¡°I¡¯m leaving.¡±


    ¡°Awww, already? I kinda want to stay and watch him. I think he might be the guy my dad was talking about too, the one with the really interesting classes.¡±


    ¡°I know. That¡¯s why I want to leave.¡±


    ¡°Wait, are you seriously not gonna team up with anyone?¡±


    ¡°Not if I can help it.¡±


    ¡°Why not? Wouldn¡¯t having people to fight with make everything a lot easier?¡±


    ¡°If you can trust them.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ yeah, but it¡¯s not really that hard, is it?¡±


    Claire took a deep breath and tried her best to purge all thoughts of her father from her mind. ¡°I¡¯m not going to trust a stranger with my back.¡±


    ¡°Well, he¡¯s not going to be a stranger if you introduce yourselves.¡±


    The lyrkress rolled her eyes. ¡°Whatever. Shut up and take me to Crabby Crags.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just trying to help.¡± The fox¡¯s ears drooped.


    ¡°I know.¡± Claire pursed her lips, closed her eyes, and took a breath. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± Sylvia climbed up the lyrkress¡¯ back, lightly tapping her on the shoulder before poking at her ears with her paws. ¡°So umm¡­ I know you basically just snapped because you wanted me to get off your back, but are you sure you wanna go to Crabby Crags first? Not the citadel?¡± She pointed at the smallest floating island with her tail. ¡°I know you might not want to go back, but it¡¯s not everyday that you can randomly learn skills and stuff.¡±


    Clenching and unclenching her jaw, the force mage slowly nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right. Let¡¯s go to the citadel.¡± She balled her hands up into fists and took a deep breath. ¡°Stop looking at me like that. I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Sylvia squinted sceptically, but nodded along and led the way nonetheless.


    ___


    The fox made sure to loop around the island and approach it from an angle that would guarantee that they wouldn¡¯t see the catgirl¡¯s plaza. Though she had noted it, the lyrkrian beneficiary remained perfectly silent, and not out of anything as ridiculous or immature as embarrassment and entitlement, but rather because she understood that a mere ¡°thank you,¡± would hardly serve as any recompense. If she wanted to pay her back, then it would have to be with fish. Maybe I¡¯ll catch some tonight.


    Landing in the same tree she had the previous day, Claire grew out her cloak and hid her features beneath her hood before descending from its canopy and stepping out into the streets. It was almost an unnecessary precaution. Though the sun was high in the sky, most of the locals were still passed out in their beds; there was far less noise than there¡¯d been at night. The ancient fortress almost seemed devoid of life.


    The only voices she could hear came from the building marked with Flux¡¯s sigil, the one that Beckard had described as his office. Slowly sneaking her way towards it, she perked up her ears and listened in.


    ¡°It¡¯s true, Beck! I swear I saw some sort of spirit in the citadel last night!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous. I don¡¯t know what you saw, but I¡¯m sure there¡¯s a better explanation for it.¡±


    ¡°It was right there! Right in front of me! I swear I could¡¯ve touched it!¡±


    There was an audible sigh. ¡°Valt¡¯ur, you had more alcohol than blood in your bloodstream last night. I don¡¯t think you knew who or where you were, let alone what you were seeing.¡±


    The fox walking beside her tapped one of her flippers, waiting for her to turn her head before starting to speak. ¡°What are you listening to?¡±


    ¡°Nothing interesting.¡±


    Tucking her ears back into her cloak and closing the holes she¡¯d made for them, Claire zoned the conversation out and walked up to the door. She raised her hand to knock, but the wooden entrance flung itself open before she could reach it, revealing a large open chamber. The cathedral was two stories high, with rows of benches on either side and a rust-red carpet that ran right down its center.


    At the end of the aisle was a suspended platform featuring a knee-high, rectangular altar made of marble. There were already a number of goods arranged atop it, an array of materials placed with an obvious intention. To the platform¡¯s side, in a far off corner, sat a dusty podium meant for sermons and a large wooden door left half ajar. Peeking inside, she found that it was there to act as a sort of physical barrier, one that kept the cat sith¡¯s living quarters separate from the rest of the building.


    ¡°Wow, so this is what a temple is like? You can really feel the magic and divinity and stuff.¡± Sylvia was practically bouncing around the room, moving from pillar to pillar and arch to arch, as if to inspect every nook and cranny.


    ¡°I thought you had ritual mages.¡±


    ¡°We do! But we use the leylines instead, so we don¡¯t need temples.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s hardly any different.¡±


    Shrugging, the lyrkress approached the altar and looked upon the things placed on top of it. There was a lit candle, a wooden carving of an hourglass, and a vial of water that she assumed to be sanctified. All the items she needed to swear an oath to a god¡ªone of the only rituals that did not require an accompanying mage.


    Claire heaved a sigh. She finally understood why Flux had only sent the cat to meet her after she had arrived at the citadel. And she had to admit, she got her good. The goddess was a sly one indeed.


    ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Mhm? What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°Can you step out for a second?¡±


    The fox gave her a puzzled look.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be quick.¡±


    ¡°Sure, I guess,¡± said Sylvia with a shrug and a nod. ¡°Are you gonna do some more praying?¡±


    ¡°Something like that,¡± said Claire, as she shut the stairwell¡¯s door.


    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll be hanging around the yard or something. Just shout when you¡¯re done!¡± Sylvia darted out the entrance before she even finished talking. The entrance sealed itself behind her. The wooden barrier would hardly stop the fox from hearing her, but it provided a sense of solitude and relief nonetheless. She could feel herself calm as she scanned the environment and confirmed that she was alone.


    After double checking to ensure that everything was in order, Claire kneeled in front of the altar and took a deep breath. Once ready, she placed the flame right in front of her, doused herself in holy water, and brought the goddess¡¯ insignia to her chest.


    ¡°O goddess of the eternal flow, ruler of water and time, shepherd of the cycle. I entrust to you the authority over my soul, and beseech that you watch over and guide me as my patron deity. I swear to you now an earnest oath such that I might be captured by your gaze.¡±


    An oath to a god was not necessarily unbreakable, but neither was it something to be made lightly. Those that went back on their words could fall out of a god¡¯s favour and find themselves judged a buffoon and cast aside. In particularly egregious cases, the unfaithful would even find themselves smited by the deity to whom they declared their loyalties. Many often struggled to come up with their oaths. But the halfbreed already knew exactly what she wanted to say. Her pledge would be rude, selfish, and completely undeserving of any divine grace. But she had no intention of changing it. Box should understand, right? She¡¯s the one that set all this up in the first place.


    With another deep breath, Claire gave voice to her vow. The words came slowly, one by one, with each carefully articulated and spoken with emphasis and intent. ¡°I swear in Flux¡¯s name to live unbound by the influences of higher powers, to forge a path of my own accord, and to break free of those that might burden me with their wills.¡±


    It was a stark contrast from the standard oath she¡¯d made to Builledracht as a child, and in a way, it was even antithetical. The thought of breaking free of higher powers went against the very concept of a patron deity, whose purpose was to guide and judge. Those that swore to gods were meant to live by the relevant divine tenants. But Claire was only half aware of Flux¡¯s, and she had no intention of ever following them unless they were in line with her own beliefs and convictions.


    And that was why her heart sank as the sigil in her palm remained exactly where it was. A sign that the goddess had heard her oath and rejected it.


    Having half expected the result, Claire heaved a sigh and opened her eyes.


    And found herself face to face with the almighty mistress of the eternal flow.


    Even though there was not a cloud in sight.


    It took a moment for her to finally process that they were meeting in person, that Flux had descended upon the lost library of Llystletein.

 Chapter 80 - The Descent IV

    Chapter 80 - The Descent IV


    There was a moment of silence as the pair gazed upon each other, a brief but notable lapse of sound and action. Claire was busy working her brain. Her mind raced as she tried to deduce the goddess¡¯ purpose. She couldn¡¯t tell if she was present to condemn her, or if there was any other way to justify her sudden advent. The divine, on the other hand, was simply waiting for the mortal to calm.


    It took a second and a half for the lyrkress to shift her expression to one that didn¡¯t betray her emotions. It was only a brief instant by mortal standards, but to the ageless chronomantic god, it spanned a measurable eternity. A less patient deity would likely have found themselves displeased. But Flux¡¯s amused smirk never left her face. Calmly, silently, the goddess extended a hand, its palm held face up.


    Claire didn¡¯t immediately recognize her intent, but after another brief pause, slowly moved to place the glowing sigil within the deity¡¯s grasp.


    ¡°I thought you were rejecting it,¡± said the mortal, as she directed her gaze straight ahead. The two were eye level, largely in part because the goddess was standing atop the altar.


    ¡°That would be your insecurity¡¯s fault,¡± said Flux. After flashing a bit of a smug smirk, the divine relaxed her expression into a gentle smile. ¡°I have been meaning to reclaim you from Builledracht for quite some time. I see no reason not to jump at the first opportunity.¡±


    ¡°Even if it means accepting an oath you don¡¯t approve of?¡±


    ¡°There is a misunderstanding. I do not disapprove of your vow.¡± Flux chuckled, as if to savour the halfbreed¡¯s confusion. ¡°There are certainly others that may have elicited such a response, but I am neither the goddess of order, nor a member of her faction.¡±


    ¡°Then why are you here?¡±


    ¡°For you.¡± The goddess stepped forward and pulled Claire¡¯s head into her chest.


    Not sure how to react, the lyrkress stiffened up as a hand gently combed its way through her hair. A sense of serenity numbed her mind, quelling the screams in the back of her head, the fears, meows, and worries that had refused to leave her alone.


    ¡°Do you feel any better?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re trying to trick me.¡± Claire took a breath as she slowly closed and reopened her eyes. ¡°You¡¯ve ignored me my whole life. There¡¯s no other reason for you to be acting like this now.¡±


    Flux finally released her and stepped back to her place on the altar. And in doing so, allowed the voices to return. ¡°If I pamper you excessively, then you will be marred by my divinity and lose the ability to ascend to the seventh stage.¡±


    ¡°The¡­ seventh?¡± The halfbreed furrowed her brows. ¡°You want me to ascend to godhood?¡±


    ¡°To assume that you will get that far is rather bold, given the extent of your incompetency,¡± said Flux, ¡°but I would prefer not to limit you in the unlikely event that it does come to occur.¡±


    ¡°What if I don¡¯t want to spend my whole life fighting?¡±


    ¡°That is fine too. Your life is yours. I do not intend to inform its direction.¡±


    ¡°Then what about the curse?¡± Claire narrowed her eyes into a glare.


    ¡°It is a blessing, and you have been benefiting from it,¡± the goddess huffed and put her hands on her hips.


    Claire opened her mouth to complain, but stopped as she realised that she had nothing to argue. As much as she hated to admit it, she had stopped thinking of the blessing as undesired, even if it came hand in hand with blackmail. It¡¯s nothing like Alfred¡¯s curse. Or any of Builledracht¡¯s.


    ¡°The blessing that I have given you is minor, but it too is powerful enough to stain you with my essence. I advise visiting temples belonging to the others and currying their favour. The more minor blessings you possess, the less likely you are to be deemed an apostle.¡±


    With a nod, the lyrkress made a mental note of the advice. Currying favour with the gods was never a bad thing. ¡°Why me?¡±


    ¡°You have been mine for as long as the cycle has remained under my domain. Your previous incarnation remains with you only as a vessel, but you are mine all the same. Or perhaps even more now, with the circumstances around this latest iteration.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand what any of that means.¡±


    ¡°If you manage to ascend far enough, you will.¡± Flux momentarily glanced to the side, at the door hidden away in the room¡¯s corner. ¡°I was not expecting you to swear to me today. It was a pleasant surprise.¡±


    Claire furrowed her brow. ¡°Didn¡¯t you arrange for all this?¡±


    ¡°It is entirely a coincidence,¡± said Flux. Her lips curved up into an impish smile.


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you. I couldn¡¯t have just coincidentally walked into a temple that happened to have all the things I needed to swear to the goddess that just so happened to send one of her priests to me the night before.¡±


    ¡°The implements were not meant for you.¡±


    ¡°But you knew I would be here, didn¡¯t you? Aren''t you the goddess of time?¡±


    ¡°You are misunderstanding, Claire. The eternal flow encompasses the flow of time, but I am not omniscient, nor is any other god. We are not perfect.¡±


    ¡°But the¡ª¡±


    Claire tried to speak, but was cut off by the goddess raising her hand. ¡°I have stayed as long as I can. Goodbye, Claire. Do not make me wait long for your next ascension.¡± Her body faded and her voice grew more distant as she spoke. ¡°I am already looking forward to it. If the circumstances continue as they are, you may even come to inherit my blood.¡±


    And with that, she was gone without a trace, the only remnant of her presence a crinkle in the cloth laid atop the altar.


    ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡± Though unsure if the deity could still hear her, the halfbreed replied aloud as she clenched her fists. ¡°But I can¡¯t promise anything.¡±


    Another moment of silence followed as Claire stood at the altar and looked up to the heavens. Her mind was a mess. She didn¡¯t know how she was supposed to feel. To the gods, mortals were meant to be nothing but sources of entertainment and faith. A few notable exceptions aside, the pantheon did not offer emotional support. Likewise, it was not known to encourage the final ascension. The heavens had their own power dynamics, and throwing new elements into the mix would only befuddle them. And yet, Flux had done both. She had comforted her and told her that she wanted her to ascend to godhood.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    It just didn¡¯t make sense.


    Claire couldn¡¯t tell if she was meant to take the divine¡¯s words at face value, or if she was meant to think the whole thing some sort of elaborate ruse. She wanted to sit down and contemplate all the possibilities, but she wasn¡¯t given the chance. A twitch of the ear reminded her that she wasn¡¯t the building¡¯s sole occupant; the cat¡¯s guest was already heading down the stairs.


    After quickly scanning the room, she turned into a lamia and slithered up one of the pillars by the door obscuring the staircase. She would have dashed right out the front entrance if the person in question were any further away, but there wasn¡¯t enough time. They were sure to arrive before she could silently close it behind her.


    ¡°So you¡¯ve finally figured out your oath?¡± asked Beckard, as he walked into the room. She hadn¡¯t been able to detect him, courtesy of his strange silent aura, but his words rang loud and clear.


    ¡°Why do you think I was so drunk last night? I knew it would come to me if I just juiced myself into a coma.¡±


    He was followed by a two-foot tall lizardman with massive bulging muscles. His peculiar size aside, the bipedal reptile was the spitting image of the average Tal¡¯ihirian. He was covered in thick, green scales, had spikes running down the length of his spine, and sported a long muscular tail whose base was roughly half the width of one of his legs. On a lamia, such a thin rear appendage would have been a sign of anorexia or starvation, but for the rainforest¡¯s people, it was a symbol of good health.


    His equipment was just as stereotypical. His chest was bare, save for the leather belts slung around his shoulders, and his legs were adorned with a pair of cotton pants, covered in pockets of all shapes and sizes.


    ¡°I assure you, my dear friend, that the best oaths are not conceived under the influence.¡±


    ¡°You only say that because you¡¯re not allowed to drink,¡± said the lizard, with an annoyed scoff.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that I¡¯m not allowed. It just weakens me and hurts my faith.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the same damn thing.¡±


    Log Entry 1819


    Sneaking has reached level 15.


    Shaking his head, Beckard walked out in front of the altar, only to stop in place as he laid eyes on it. Of the three things he had prepared, only the candle remained. The holy water had been used up, and the sigil was nowhere to be found.


    ¡°Something wrong?¡± asked the lizardman, as he got up onto the tips of his toes and looked over the cat¡¯s shoulders.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Velt¡¯us, but I think I may have forgotten to prepare the materials.¡±


    ¡°You did? I could¡¯ve sworn I saw them when I came in.¡±


    Beckard sighed. ¡°I did too, but unfortunately, they¡¯re not here, and I don¡¯t think I have any more in the back.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a bummer.¡± Velt¡¯us scratched the back of his head. ¡°How long will it take for you to get everything ready? Carter wants me to go spar with the new guy after lunch.¡±


    ¡°Go do that first. I¡¯ll drop by the diner tonight and let you know if I have any updates.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Beck. Sucks that I couldn¡¯t get it done right now, but later¡¯s better than never.¡±


    Beckard nodded. ¡°Sorry for the inconvenience.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind. It¡¯s not like it¡¯s a long trip. So what if I have to walk another five minutes?¡± The Tal¡¯ihirian chuckled as he put his hands in his pockets.


    ¡°Thank you, Velt¡¯us.¡±


    With a nonchalant wave of the hand, Velt¡¯us turned towards the front door and casually ambled his way outside. Watching the other man go, the priest walked over to the altar, placed his paws against the wet patches of carpet and almost seemed to sink into thought. He didn¡¯t raise his head until another four-legged critter walked through the still-open entrance.


    ¡°Hello. I believe you said your name was Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°Yup! I think Claire was supposed to be here?¡±


    ¡°Yes, she¡¯s right over there.¡± Beckard turned around and pointed at one of the stone arches.


    ¡°You should¡¯ve said something earlier if you knew.¡± The lyrkress shifted into a humanoid to drop to the ground before returning to her usual form.


    ¡°I knew you¡¯d come down if I just waited,¡± said the priest.


    ¡°I guess this means you¡¯re done the thing you said you were gonna do?¡± asked Sylvia, as she climbed on top of a bench.


    ¡°She is, and she used the last of our materials to do it.¡± Beckard sighed as he turned back to the altar. ¡°I¡¯m not particularly cross with you, but I would appreciate it if you could do me the favour of retrieving the things you used.¡±


    ¡°Temples can run out of oath-swearing materials?¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ Claire? You do know that things vanish when you use them up, right?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°I know. But the temples in Valencia never ran out.¡±


    The cat scratched his head. ¡°Magical wood and water are much scarcer in Llystletein, and we don¡¯t have any merchants or suppliers to purchase them from.¡±


    ¡°Will anything do? As long as it¡¯s magic?¡±


    She was familiar with ritual magic, as well as the oath-swearing ritual itself, but Claire had never been tasked with procuring raw materials. That particular assignment had been left to a magic-savvy servant, as the lady would often try to escape her guards whenever she was allowed to step into town.


    ¡°So long as it¡¯s natural,¡± said the clergyman.


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Magical wood might be a bit harder to find, but water should be easy,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°We can figure something out later,¡± said the lyrkress, before turning back to the cat. ¡°Teach me the skills you mentioned.¡±


    Beckard blinked several times before breaking into a chuckle and slowly shaking his head.


    ¡°What?¡± asked Claire, her face kept perfectly neutral.


    ¡°I just wasn¡¯t expecting you to be quite so shameless.¡±


    ¡°I know exactly what you mean!¡± said Sylvia, her tail straight in the air. ¡°Claire¡¯s just kinda weird like that, but not in a bad way. You¡¯ll get used to it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure I will,¡± said the cat, with another laugh.


    The lyrkress rolled her eyes.


    ¡°To answer your question, I¡¯ve been looking to pass on a very peculiar set of skills, but no one¡¯s quite been able to master them,¡± said Beckard. ¡°It¡¯ll make more sense when you see it. Follow me.¡± A sharp grin on his face, the cat sith walked out the door and into the building¡¯s yard.


    Claire and Sylvia exchanged glances, shrugged, and followed after him. They were led to a fenced-off area with a series of straw dummies spread throughout, seemingly at random. The cat approached the far wall and grabbed one of the bladed gauntlets mounted on top of it. Though it clearly fit like a glove, the weapon almost seemed too large for the tiny feline, courtesy of all its extra parts.


    ¡°This is one of my personal inventions. I call it the crested gauntlet,¡± he said, as he flexed his fingers. ¡°It¡¯s a complicated weapon with enough features to make your head spin.¡±


    There was an audible click as a blade shot out from the metal glove¡¯s knuckles and transformed it into a katar. A second, slightly deeper sound caused a small bow to form just above the wrist, while a third led a set of claws to extend from the individual fingertips.


    ¡°Now, I¡¯m sure it already seems impressive, but you¡¯ve only seen three of the seventy two things that it can do. Naturally, having all of those different functions comes at the cost of some minor durability, but it¡¯s hardly a problem when you¡¯re able to pull a dozen blades out of thin air.¡±


    Claire glanced at Sylvia, who was already looking back at her. ¡°Crabby crags?¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Good idea,¡± said the fox, just as quietly.


    ¡°The arrows it needs are quite unique. They have to be stored within the weapon itself, but that actually helps because it makes it easier to infuse them with magic. And that¡¯s not even the most interesting part. It¡¯s even got a catalyst inside it, which lets it serve as a wand in a pinch.¡±


    The priest continued to speak, highlighting all the tool¡¯s features to no one in particular. He was so engrossed in his own invention that it took him a whole five minutes to realise that he had once again been abandoned in the midst of his demonstration.

 Chapter 81 - The Weavers Map

    Chapter 81 - The Weaver''s Map


    The entrance to the instanced zone known as Crabby Crags was sequestered away in a cave hidden along a beach. Obscured by a rocky shoreline dotted with submarine hazards, it was a difficult area to find, let alone access. If an unknowing boatsman was to attempt the trek, he would surely find his livelihood full of holes and dragged into a watery grave. But Claire was no boatsman, and neither was her guide. In and of itself, that distinction meant very little. Swimming was no less hazardous; any stone capable of piercing through a wooden hull was just as capable of tearing through a fair maiden¡¯s flesh.


    Despite the supposed danger, both the lyrkress and the fox remained nonchalant. They were so unconcerned, in fact, that they even played a game of tag. Sylvia darted between the pointed rocks with little to no difficulty, her air bubble acting as both a buffer and a shield. The magical orb bounced her away from anything sharp enough to serve as a threat. Claire, on the other hand, simply slithered along the ocean floor as she would any other. Her scales were unaffected by the sharp stones, and she only needed to lift her hooves to keep them out of harm¡¯s reach.


    ¡°Okay, this is it!¡± The fox surfaced at the cave¡¯s far end and placed a paw against a boulder. ¡°All you have to do is walk through this big round rock.¡± She pushed her forelimb through the stone, which distorted with a series of ripples.


    ¡°You¡¯re not coming?¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnn¡­ I kinda want to, but Al¡¯s gonna annoy the crap out of me if I do.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ oops! I wasn¡¯t supposed to say that. You didn¡¯t hear anything!¡±


    Claire sighed. ¡°Nevermind. It doesn¡¯t matter. I won¡¯t pry.¡±


    ¡°Wait, really?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± The fox¡¯s ears drooped, but perked back up after a brief delay. ¡°Wait, did you actually mean that? I can¡¯t really tell.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± said Claire, with a faint smile.


    The lyrkress climbed up onto the shore, shook off the few drops of water that clung to her body, and wrung out her cloak as best she could. She had no idea how or why, but she was basically waterproof. Any liquid she touched would flow right off of her, regardless of whether it made contact with her skin, her scales, or her hair. If not for her soggy wet cloak and the blade of kelp stuck to her forehead, there would not have been any way to tell that she had just emerged from the sea.


    ¡°Why do you have to be so mean all the time?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s fun.¡± Claire patted the fox on the head with one of her flippers as she pressed a hand against the portal. ¡°You don¡¯t have to come. I won¡¯t take long.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I want to.¡± Sylvia¡¯s ears drooped again. ¡°I¡¯ve never been there before, I kinda wanna see what it¡¯s like, but¡­¡±


    ¡°But Alfred doesn¡¯t want you to go for some reason?¡±


    ¡°Well, there¡¯s that too, but w¡ª.¡±


    ¡°Then you can just tell him that I made you do it.¡±


    Grabbing ahold of Sylvia with her tail, Claire marched straight through the portal without waiting to hear any protests or complaints. There was a stark difference between the rocky gate and the wormhole that kept Borrok Peak linked to the meadow. The latter was hardly noticeable, lacking even the slightest bit of resistance. It had let her right through as would a veil of silk, both when she had entered the mountain, and when she had returned from it. Crabby Crags¡¯ gate, on the other hand, was anything but subtle. Passing through it was like trudging through sludge. Her hooves were heavy, weighed down by a thousand scrambled vectors, moving in patterns that she failed to understand.


    She half expected the sensation to persist even after emerging from the portal¡¯s other end, but it vanished as soon as she broke loose, giving way to a dry, sandy breeze.


    Log Entry 1820


    Detect Force Magic has reached level 15.


    Her eyes adjusting to the light, the lyrkress found herself standing atop a floating platform. A series of thick stone walls was laid out beneath her, arranged to form a maze, a sprawling labyrinth no smaller than a bustling metropolis. She tried examining and subsequently solving it, but the platform she was on began shifting around before she could locate the origin. The next time she blinked, she was on the ground. The rock had given way to a field of sand, an empty beach covered in shells and tiny pools of water.


    ¡°Uhm¡­ Claire?¡± A meek voice came from behind her.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m kinda glad you pulled me in with you because this place looks really neat, but you¡¯re squeezing me really hard and I can¡¯t breathe.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡±


    Putting the fox down, the lyrkress returned her gaze to the scene spread out before her. She immediately made note of the four cliffs towering over the labyrinth, sealing it in from all sides. Each rock face featured a far reaching ledge that extended almost directly overhead. Though none of the protrusions touched, they came close enough to form a shadow resembling a cross with its center removed.


    Curious, she boosted herself upwards to investigate the strange set of decorations, but a sharp pain shot through the top of her head as she suddenly made contact with something she couldn¡¯t see. The impact threw her tail off course and destroyed all semblance of the control she had. She fell straight down, cradling her head in her hands as she crashed into the sand


    Sylvia fought back a giggle. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± A palm still held against her face, the lyrkress pushed herself back off the ground and slowly directed her miserable gaze back towards the sky. ¡°What was that?¡±


    ¡°An invisible ceiling, duh. It¡¯s there to stop you from cheating.¡±


    ¡°Why is it invisible?¡±


    ¡°Probably because Al wanted to see someone do exactly what you just did! He¡¯s kind of a jerk like that, but I can¡¯t blame him because it really is kinda funny.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to punch him next time I see him.¡± The rogue grumbled as she rubbed the injury and directed her eyes forward.


    ¡°Well, I doubt it¡¯ll go well, but I¡¯m not gonna try and stop you. Make sure you give him an extra good slug if you manage to get close enough! Al kinda deserves it,¡± said the fox, as she stared into the space behind her. ¡°Oh, and be careful of the monsters here. They¡¯re kinda souped-up.¡±


    Claire shrugged, got to her feet, and walked down the passageway. It was the only way she could go. All the other directions were sealed off by large slabs of stone.


    For a corridor within a labyrinth, the hall was incredibly spacious, spanning ten meters across. The lyrkress appreciated all the extra room, but she was already annoyed by the consequences that accompanied it. The nearest intersection looked to be a few hundred meters away; finding an exit was going to involve a lot of walking, and she was already starting to dread the experience.


    The second corridor was even longer than the first, but it wasn¡¯t as depressingly desolate. Unlike the empty canvas that was its predecessor, the lengthier hallway was filled with rocky formations, many of which stood at twice her height. Her ears had already picked up on the monsters hiding behind them. She couldn¡¯t quite identify them from their clicking and clacking, but she was relieved nonetheless. At the very least, she was confident that they weren¡¯t deer.


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    Sylvia waltzed straight into the corridor, but Claire magically reeled her back before she was spotted. Signalled for her companion to keep, the lyrkress poked her head out from around the corner and looked for its occupants. It didn¡¯t take long for one of the creatures to step out and reveal itself. The monster was a large red crustacean that stood at roughly two meters tall. It sported ten segmented legs, a broad, spiked carapace, and a single tall, stalked eye.


    It was a crab¡ªand 2% catgirl, whatever that meant.


    Eyepatch aside, the only odd thing about the brachyuran was its lack of claws. One of its forelimbs was an organic cannon, while the other featured a large meat hook made of reinforced shell. Claire had every intention of attacking the crustacean and converting it to experience, but she could hear at least two more scattered throughout the area. Discerning the precise headcount with her ears alone proved surprisingly difficult because of the way their clicks and clacks echoed off the walls, but she could tell that all the others were fairly far away. Still, she had no intention of rushing the isolated target down. She had no idea how powerful it was, and Sylvia¡¯s warning still echoed in the back of her mind. At the very least, she wanted to catch it off guard and confirm that her attacks could overwhelm its defences.


    That was why she started experimenting with her cloak. Focusing on the magic garment, she changed its colour to match the light brown stone that made up the maze¡¯s walls. It was decent camouflage, and she doubted that the crabs would be able to detect her, but she wasn¡¯t satisfied. The mantle wasn¡¯t stiff or jagged enough to fool anything with more than half a brain. At least not yet.


    Her hand against the wall, she continued tweaking the leather, modifying its texture to better match that of the earthen partition. Her shoulders grew heavier as it continued to transform; the coarser and grittier it got, the more she felt like she was being weighed down. She thought it was just her imagination at first, but the weight soon became too prominent to be denied. And it was only then that she finally understood.


    The cloak wasn¡¯t emulating stone.


    It was becoming it.


    Claire expected the cloak to stop transforming after it took on a few rock-like properties, but at her directive, it continued to change until it was fully petrified, converted to pure stone. Its new form was impractical. The rock-solid overcoat¡¯s new material was far heavier than sodden leather. Its weight, she could deal with. She had enough strength to spare, and lugging around a few dozen extra pounds was a minor inconvenience at worst. What she couldn¡¯t deal with was her newfound lack of mobility. The former leather refused to conform to her movements. It stayed perfectly still and failed to budge so much as a fraction of an inch, no matter where she pushed or how she pulled. There was no way for her to free the arm trapped within the cloak¡¯s folds without smashing it open.


    In a way, the experiment was a success. She had learned that the cloak was even more adaptable than she previously thought. Its ability to change, to become what it wasn¡¯t, was incredible to say the least. There were a countless number of ways to apply the runecloak¡¯s unique property and she was going to have to find some time to sit down and further consider its use. Coincidentally, the present was not that time. Because the crab had caught her in its gaze. It had yet to figure out what exactly she was, but it was curiously walking in her direction. Unlike the crabs that she had read about in books, it wasn¡¯t skittering sideways, but rather approaching her head on, walking forwards as would any other animal.


    Half panicked, she didn¡¯t manage to unpetrify her runecloak until the monster realised she was a foe. The crustacean fired a dozen spiked projectiles from its arm cannon, each roughly twice the size of her head. The hail of stone almost hit her dead on, but she managed to pull her head back around the corner just in the nick of time.


    Claire thought herself free to take a breather and come up with a plan as the creature approached, only to open her eyes wide when its legs suddenly started pounding away at the sand. A moment later, it appeared in front of her with its hook raised and its launcher pointed straight at her face.


    She almost couldn¡¯t believe how fast it was. Over two hundred meters had been covered in the blink of an eye.


    Its second set of attacks came just as abruptly as its first.


    Another barrage of stone.


    The lyrkress was barely able to react. She ducked beneath the first rock, weaved around the second, and nearly slithered past the third. It barely grazed her arm, but the limb was immediately rendered unusable. Her flesh was torn apart by the stone¡¯s jagged blades; she could see all the way down the freshly exposed bone.


    Gritting her teeth, Claire bit back the pain and tried to launch a counterattack, but the crab was one step ahead of her. It swung its arm and propelled its meat hook forwards before she could finish casting her spell. The limb carrying the pointed object extended unnaturally, growing to over ten times its original length as it lodged itself in her shoulder and reeled her straight towards the crustacean¡¯s gaping maw.


    With her unbroken hand, she brought her mace down on the creature¡¯s eye and delivered an envenomed phantom strike. That alone wasn¡¯t enough to stop it from consuming her, but kicking it in the face was. Her hooves broke through both pairs of jaws. The pain led the crab to trash about and throw her into the nearest wall. Its hook ripped through her flesh as it was torn away, spraying blood through the air.


    Though its wounds were less grievous, the crab monster took much longer to recover. It gurgled, clicked, and clacked as wads of cotton spewed from its wounds. Seeing an opportunity in the creature¡¯s anguish, the bloodthief picked herself up off the ground and broke into a head-on charge. She dodged past the incoming meat hook and smashed its eye with another enchanted blow, but the creature wasn¡¯t reacting to her venom. Neither soarspore poison nor rocket fuel seemed to have any effect.


    She shifted gears and moved to strike at its legs, but found herself a victim of its gun. There was a wet squish followed by a series of cracks as a jagged cannonball landed right beneath her waistline. Fire coursed through her system. Her hips screamed, her bones gave way to the stone, and her left leg stopped responding. It didn¡¯t listen to her, no matter what commands she issued. But she ignored it and pushed on.


    Using her tail to guide her movement, she forced her way past the monster¡¯s side and smashed her mace into one of its legs, right where the limb was connected to its torso. It started skittering away, using its speed to get a better angle on her. But it hadn¡¯t been quick enough to act. A sharpened glare paralyzed it before it could create any meaningful distance.


    Shifting her body into a legless form, she shot a series of ice bolts from the shard in her chest and slithered up its side. It tried to shake her off the moment it regained its mobility, but it couldn¡¯t get away, not before she wrapped her body around its claw-turned-meat hook and snapped it right off. A third strike to the eye followed, finally destroying the surprisingly durable organ. But even blinded, the crab remained a threat.


    Cotton seeped from its missing appendages as it flailed its cannon and fired projectile after projectile. Even without its only visual aid, it still seemed to have a rough idea of where she was, but its shots lacked their prior precision. They were loosed haphazardly, fired effectively at random.


    And yet, Claire struggled to evade them.


    Transforming into a lamia hadn¡¯t fixed the wound in her side. The part of her body that kept her humanoid and monstrous halves connected was still battered and broken. Though certainly not a non-factor, it wasn¡¯t the pain that slowed her, but rather, the sorry state of her spine.


    Her midsection was a critical weakness. It was the place her backbone was most exposed. And she had accidentally left it exposed. Worse yet, she had stressed it when she robbed the crab of its hook. The attack was one that required her to squeeze her injured back muscles with all the force she could muster, which in turn worsened the damage that had already been dealt.


    Her nerves were no longer fully responsive, often failing to carry the signals that they were meant to deliver.


    Force magic was the only thing that kept her from falling to the blinded decapod¡¯s barrage. She summoned Shoulderhorse and ordered it to eat anything that came too close for comfort. Surprisingly, the pony¡¯s defence didn¡¯t immediately drain her mana. But paralyzing gaze did.


    Another fully empowered stare took over a thousand points from her pool and froze the crab for another half second. Just enough time to slither up to it and bludgeon its cannon shut. She could feel her energy returning as her mace tore through the crustacean¡¯s shell. It was a drop in the bucket with her totals considered, a mere five health and fifty mana, but a welcome addition nonetheless, even with the battle on the verge of concluding.


    The brachyuran was out of tricks. Both its weapons were gone. There was no longer any way for it to attack.


    Or at least that was what she thought.


    Naturally, she was wrong.


    Because it was an earth mage.


    And mages didn¡¯t need their catalysts.


    Tapping its remaining legs against the ground, the red-shelled mage unleashed a series of tremors that rippled from its location. Each was accompanied by a wave of magic, magic that wormed its way into the jagged boulders strewn across the battlefield.


    Claire continued bashing at its legs, but not even stealing its mana was enough to break its focus. The crab¡¯s magic continued raising the rocks into the sky.


    A final tap, a final pulse of energy, activated the spell¡¯s second verse.


    And called every single one of the magical constructs to the target the crab¡¯s hook had magnetically charged.


    Eyes wide, Claire tried her best to dodge her way out of the geoclasmic wave. But the rocks gave chase, no matter how she twisted and turned. They were locked onto her, and came from every direction. She couldn¡¯t evade them all. Her flesh was pulverised and her bones were broken as they made contact. The only saving grace was that they were aimed at her shoulder and not her core. One of the rocks tore the joint straight out of its socket and led its successors astray.


    Even with the remaining projectiles flying past her, the halfbreed was by no means doing well. Her head was spinning. A particularly large stone had left a cut on her temple and nearly knocked her unconscious. Blood was streaming from her skull, courtesy of a missing ear, and the end of her tail was paralyzed outright.


    She could barely move.


    But the snake on her shoulder could.


    Having replaced its equine counterpart, the spirit that had cost the halfbreed the last dredges of her mana charged through the air and punched a hole straight through the crab¡¯s core.


    Its heart completely destroyed, the crustacean fell forward, dead, with cotton erupting from every orifice.

 Chapter 82 - The Weavers Map II

    Chapter 82 - The Weaver''s Map II


    An extremely exhausted Claire lumbered over to the nearest wall as she reverted to her lyrkrian form. The level up that ensued in the battle¡¯s aftermath had restored her battered body, but she didn¡¯t immediately jump into the next altercation. She needed a break. The crab had been far tougher than anticipated, and it had even known more about her weaknesses than she had.


    Sylvia appeared beside her as she sat down and leaned against the rock face. She had no idea when the fox had vanished, or where she had even gone, but the timing seemed to suggest that she had been watching the battle from some place or another.


    ¡°Before you ask, I¡¯m fine,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ I uhh¡­¡± The fox blinked. Thrice. ¡°I wasn''t going to ask.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you.¡±


    ¡°Well you should!¡±


    There was an awkward pause as one halfbreed cast a suspicious glare and the other averted her eyes. The interaction persisted for several seconds, with the fox eventually breaking into a cold sweat and backing down.


    ¡°A-anyway, are you going to keep fighting them? It looked like you had a lot of trouble with that one.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be easier next time. I know what they do now.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ if you say so. How many levels did that one give you anyway?¡±


    ¡°Let me check.¡±


    Claire popped open her log and reviewed the most recent entries. The goddess had already read them out to her, but the words had gone in one ear and out the other¡ªnot that they went through her ears in the first place.


    Log Entry 1821


    Manathief has reached level 10.


    Log Entry 1822


    You have slain a level 78 Llystletein Cotton Crab Corsair.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 6 points of agility


    - 4 points of dexterity


    - 7 points of spirit


    - 4 points of strength


    - 15 points of vitality


    - 9 points of wisdom


    Log Entry 1823


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Frostblight Lyrkress, has reached level 51.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Bloodthief, has reached level 55.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Force Mage, has reached level 44.


    You have gained 24 ability points.


    Each lyrkress level gives¡­ 12 ability points. That¡¯s a lot.


    Log Entry 1824


    You have unlocked a new spawnable food item.


    Log Entry 1825


    Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts has reached level 5.


    Log Entry 1826


    Lyrkrian Shapeshifting has reached level 6.


    Log Entry 1827


    Paralyzing Gaze has reached level 7.


    ¡°Three, one in each class,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s not too bad! There¡¯s like a hundred of them hanging around, so you¡¯ll probably gain a lot more by the time we find our way out.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± The lyrkress cast her gaze on the corpse. ¡°Why does it bleed cotton?¡±


    ¡°I think Al set them up that way because people need clothes, and making everything with leather and pelts and stuff isn¡¯t going to cut it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think people that get captured by borroks can kill these.¡±


    ¡°Oh umm¡­ about that¡­¡± The fox turned to face the wall. ¡°So this is gonna be kinda awkward, but Crabby Crags is kinda special, like the equitaur¡¯s chamber. It changes based on who¡¯s in it, and since you dragged me in with you, they umm¡­ are a bit stronger than they¡¯re supposed to be. The one you just fought was actually supposed to be a grunt. It probably wouldn¡¯t even have been ascended if you came alone.¡±


    The lyrkress shot the fox a glare. ¡°A bit stronger? That one was level 78.¡±


    ¡°I promise It¡¯s not as bad as it sounds! They give more experience this way, so you¡¯ll level up a lot faster.¡±


    ¡°You really need to start telling me these things earlier,¡± grumbled the bluescale.


    ¡°I tried, but you dragged me in before I could. It¡¯s not even my fault this time!¡±


    A frustrated sigh escaping her lips, Claire pinched Sylvia¡¯s cheeks and gave them a tug. They were surprisingly squishy and stretchy. The furball¡¯s face grew to nearly twice its usual width before offering any resistance.


    ¡°Stop that! It feels super weird!¡± The vixen pawed at the other halfbreed in an attempt to break free, but Claire¡¯s grip was tough as iron.


    ¡°Have you learned your lesson?¡±


    ¡°I have, I have! So let go already!¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Nodding in satisfaction, the bloodthief released the cheeky critter and got to her feet.


    Sylvia massaged her cheeks and pressed them inwards, as if to counteract any potential stretching, before she finally began to speak. ¡°Well, um¡­ on the bright side, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s so bad that you can¡¯t handle it. Maybe. I think.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t your father say that this place was supposed to stop giving me experience eventually? How does that work, if the monsters get stronger with me?¡± asked Claire, as she stretched and made her way over to the crab¡¯s remains.


    The corpse had been mangled by all the damage, but that wasn¡¯t to say that there weren¡¯t any pieces to salvage. Even if brittle, the shell still had its uses. The tips of its legs were sharp enough to be fashioned into blades, so she tore a few of them off and strapped them to her thighs. She was tempted to break off another piece of its exoskeleton and forge it into a makeshift shield, but she couldn¡¯t think of a way to equip it. She didn¡¯t have the rope or leather she needed to create a fastener, and it was hardly durable enough to be worth the resources even if she did. Conclusion made, she pushed the idea off into one of her mind¡¯s furthest recesses and focused on the dead crustacean¡¯s main features.


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    ¡°Oh, well there¡¯s actually a limit to how strong they can get and ummm¡­¡±


    Claire sighed as she picked up one of the crab¡¯s arms. ¡°They¡¯ve already reached it, haven¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°Yup.¡± Sylvia flashed the most innocent smile she could manage. It didn¡¯t work.


    ¡°Of course they have.¡± Her very annoyed conversation partner gave her another brief stare. ¡°Is there any way to get out without solving the maze?¡± She raised the projectile launcher and aimed it like a bow as she spoke.


    Though impressive in life, the cannon was depressingly disappointing in death. Its appearance and use appeared to suggest that it was some sort of gun, but in reality, it was nothing but a hollowed out piece of shell, a claw too atrophied and deformed to be used as a pincer, let alone a cannon. All the stones that had emerged from its barrel were magical spells, propelled not by any sort of physical mechanism, but rather the formulae from which they were formed. In other words, the oversized barrel was a catalyst, no different from a treant¡¯s branch or a unicorn¡¯s horn in anything but shape, size, and quality. And that was precisely why it left Claire perfectly unimpressed. She didn¡¯t need a wand. The previous battle had reminded her that the shard in her chest provided the same function. It was more difficult to aim than the average casting implement, but that was a problem that the heavy cannon failed to rectify. Considering its inferior quality and blatant lack of applicability, there was simply no point in taking it with her.


    ¡°Umm¡­ Kinda, but you still have to find them, so it¡¯s not any less of a pain in the butt.¡± Sylvia¡¯s ears drooped as Claire¡¯s tongue flicked through the air. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry. I can leave if you want.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re already here, and you wanted to see it. You might as well stay.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± said the fox, her tail flickering to life. ¡°Thanks! I promise I''ll try to make it up to you sometime!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m holding you to that,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Y-you are? Does that mean you¡¯re still mad?¡±


    ¡°At myself.¡±


    ¡°Oh, whew¡­ I thought you were mad at me.¡±


    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°Wait, you are!?¡±


    ¡°Just a bit.¡± Claire smiled, softly.


    ¡°Bu¡ªwait a second!¡± The fox stamped both her feet against the ground and barked. ¡°That¡¯s the face you make when you tease me!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said the half-snake, with a perfectly blank expression.


    ¡°It¡¯s kind of creepy how good you are at doing that.¡±


    ¡°I-I¡¯m not creepy¡­¡± Her eyes tearing up, she whimpered, cowered, and made a face akin to that of an abandoned puppy.


    ¡°W-wow uhmm¡­ that was really convincing. Are you sure that¡¯s not a skill?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not.¡± Claire fixed her expression, discarded the cannon, and retrieved the crab¡¯s final limb.


    The meat hook quickly proved itself incredibly potent. A light flick sent the reinforced weapon out from the end of its arm and into a nearby wall. The collision left only one of the two objects damaged, and it wasn¡¯t the dead crab. While it wasn¡¯t easy to control, she could get it to go roughly where she wanted. The only problem was that she couldn¡¯t get it to retract. She tried pulling on its various parts, snapping the hook back towards her like a whip, and even reaching into the arm and tugging on the muscle inside, but nothing seemed to work.


    ¡°If you¡¯re trying to do what I think you are, then you probably want to put some mana into it,¡± advised the fox.


    With a nod, Claire heeded the advice and poured her magic into the shell-covered limb. She had already learned her lesson from her experience with the runecloak, so she started with a tiny sliver, and worked her way up after noting the distinctive lack of a sudden explosion. It took roughly fifty points for the retraction to reach combat-worthy speeds. It wasn¡¯t a large investment by any means, but it was certainly more than she would have hoped. Playing around a bit more, she confirmed that she could reproduce the phenomenon consistently, and that she needed roughly twice as much mana to reel it in midswing.


    Once satisfied, she raised the arm overhead and rested it on her shoulder, as the knights often did with their spears and greatswords. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°No problem!¡± Sylvia¡¯s lips curved up into a smug grin. ¡°See? Aren''t I just super useful?¡±


    ¡°When you¡¯re not making the monsters stronger for no reason.¡±


    ¡°Hey! Didn¡¯t we just decide that it was your fault!?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Ughhhh¡­ Why do you always have be so bitter about everything? You¡¯d be much happier if you stopped holding grudges.¡±


    ¡°Noble ladies don¡¯t hold grudges.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh¡­¡±


    Ignoring the fox¡¯s blatant disbelief, the shameless blueblood began moving towards the rocky hallway. She started with a confident stride, but slowed as she felt a sudden discomfort in the lower middle part of her body. Her insides had suddenly started twisted themselves into knots. It was the same strange feeling she had experienced when her stomach rumbled, only far worse, and in a completely different location. Rather than coming from the area just behind her legs, it felt like it started between her flippers and ran roughly halfway down her tail. The awkward sensation was only one of the odd things happening to her body. She kept wanting to flick her tongue and her tail was acting up. Paying close attention to it was the only way she could get it to stop fidgeting.


    ¡°Claire? Is something wrong?¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯m hungry again.¡±


    ¡°Well, it is almost lunch time. It¡¯s too bad I don¡¯t have any more fish¡­¡±


    ¡°I can get us something.¡±


    Claire dropped the hook, walked back over to the wall, and sat back down.


    Llystletein Authority


    Actions


    - Establish Safe Zone (Cooldown: 3 days)


    - Expunge Waste As Mana (200MP)


    Spawnable Drinks


    - Borroqua Velva (100MP)


    - Cosmogoblitan (50MP)


    - Honey Barbearian Cocktail (100MP)


    - Mimicosa¡î (500MP)


    - Raven Rocket Fuel (100MP)


    - Stale Water (25MP)


    - Turtle Soup (200MP)


    - ¡°Turtle¡± Soup¡î (2000MP)


    - Vampire Pup Blood (100MP)


    - White Wolf Wine (150MP)


    Spawnable Food


    - Borrok Brain Sashimi (250MP)


    - Cotton Crab Cake¡î (4500MP)


    - Fried Frog Wings (300MP)


    - Grilled Veaber Tail¡î (2000MP)


    - Hellhog Bolognese (500MP)


    - Pulled Orc (150MP)


    - Spicy Shaman Sundae¡î(3500MP)


    - Stale Bread (25MP)


    - Toadem Tiramisu¡î(2500MP)


    - Watcha Burger¡î(3250MP)


    Even knowing that they would be bland and disgusting, Claire found herself gravitating towards the meatier options. It was only then that she realised that she had a sudden craving for flesh. The urge was so convincing that she was tempted to take a bite out of the crab, despite being fully aware that its insides were filled with cotton.


    She stared at the authority skill¡¯s menu for a few moments before deciding to request a plate of veaber tails. If names were anything to go by, the only other options made primarily of meat were the borrok brains, the crab cakes, and the pulled orc. She was curious about the crab cakes, but she didn¡¯t feel like sitting around for an hour and a half to regenerate the mana she needed to summon them. Likewise, the borrok and orc-based dishes were also immediately dismissed. The species they were derived from were revolting and she didn¡¯t even want to imagine eating them.


    Still not as disgusting as the thing that happened with the catgirl statue. A shiver ran down her spine. Oh great¡­ Why did I have to think that? I¡¯m such an idiot.


    ¡°What are you making?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Food.¡±


    ¡°Well, I know that much, at least! I mean more specifically!¡±


    ¡°Meat.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not very specific¡­¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    Claire grit her teeth and closed her eyes as she tried to erase the intrusive thoughts running amok in the back of her mind. She had almost completely forgotten. But now, they were back. Fortunately, they weren¡¯t in full force, but she still had to take several deep breaths to fight them off, to stop herself from bashing her head against the wall.


    Log Entry 1828


    Llystletein Authority has reached level 6.


    You have unlocked a new action.


    A weight appeared in her hands as the goddess¡¯ voice rang through her mind. But she kept her eyes sealed. They didn¡¯t open until she took a series of slow calming breaths. She had expected the fox to have already started eating, given how long she had taken, but she wasn¡¯t. Sylvia was looking at her, her brows crinkled, but too hesitant to speak.


    ¡°You can have as many as you¡¯d like,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Oh umm¡­ thanks,¡± said Sylvia, her ears drooping. She shot another few glances in the lyrkress¡¯ direction before finally retrieving a piece of meat, sitting back down, and slowly nibbling away.


    Claire, on the other hand, tore into her meal with ravenous ferocity. She shoved tail after tail into her mouth, shell and all. Her jaws would creak and groan each time her teeth tore through the rocky exterior. But she didn¡¯t care. The pain helped keep her mind clear of all the thoughts she didn¡¯t want to entertain.

 Chapter 83 - The Weavers Map III

    Chapter 83 - The Weaver''s Map III


    To her own surprise, Claire was able to consume roughly half the massive plate before finally filling her stomach to its brim; something in the vein of fifty whole veaber tails had gone down her throat. Sylvia, on the other hand, had only eaten two. She had claimed that she wasn¡¯t a big eater to begin with, but Claire knew that it was really just the lack of flavour speaking. The fox¡¯s stomach was practically infinite, as evidenced by how she had consumed more than twice her weight in fish just the previous night.


    The remaining tails were sacrificed to Shoulderhorse, who gladly accepted them without a moment¡¯s hesitation. A similar process was used to dispose of the crab¡¯s corpse. The ravenous pony consumed the entire thing in a single breath, leaving the occasional wad of cotton as the only reminder of the monster¡¯s demise.


    Once everything was spick and span, Claire directed her gaze back towards Llystletein authority¡¯s menu and inspected her newest action. According to the skill, she had apparently learned to vomit at the press of a button. It cost only the slightest bit of mana. Twenty points was a miniscule amount that would regenerate in the blink of an eye, but she didn¡¯t bother running any tests. The lyrkress saw no purpose in spontaneously forcing herself to regurgitate.


    Far more pressing than a shiny but pointless new ability was determining her approach. Frankly, she had no idea how she was planning to tackle the labyrinth. She had always hated mazes, be they on paper or in some absurdly rich merchant¡¯s garden. It always felt like she was just randomly selecting pathways and arriving at solutions through nothing but sheer coincidence. Navigating Crabby Crags was almost sure to provide the exact same experience, only worse, courtesy of its scale. And that was only one of two major red flags. The other more prominent issue at hand was the one that Sylvia had mentioned in passing: the scaling. The crab corsair that had almost killed her was a lowly grunt, one of the maze¡¯s weakest monsters. It was just a borrok. The warrior and rotblood equivalents were sure to make quick work of her if she failed to step up her game; she was going to have to scrounge up every last drop of experience she could get if she wanted to stand a fighting chance.


    Despite only winning her last battle by the skin of her teeth, Claire didn¡¯t immediately invest any of her ability points. She felt as if she was starting to understand a few things about her body, but her grasp on her own biology was lacking, and she wasn¡¯t sure if she wanted to invest more heavily in might or magic. Still, she was confident that her second battle would go more smoothly than the first.


    She had already come up with a number of different ways to turn the tide in her favour. The first proposition was to dig her way underground and ensnare her prey, as she had the king of the ravens, but she soon dismissed it upon recalling that the one-eyed crustaceans were earth mages. They were sure to be sensitive to the tremors that would accompany an underground excursion.


    Working around that consideration was what led her to her second idea, diving at them from up above. The aerial approach appeared viable, at a glance, but it too was soon set aside. Air-to-surface attacks were risky at best. She couldn¡¯t tell where their eyes were looking, but the organs¡¯ positions seemed to suggest that it was possible for them to see overhead, and the last thing she wanted was for one to catch her with her feet off the ground. It wasn¡¯t easy for her to change directions in midair; she didn¡¯t have the finesse to dodge the spells that they would surely sling her way.


    That was why she picked solution number C.


    Weaving between the rocks, she located the closest crab, a slightly larger individual sitting atop a rock and basking in the sun. The brachyuran perked up when she rounded the corner, raising its body and preparing itself for battle.


    Its reactions were quick.


    But not quick enough.


    An ice-cold glare froze it in place before it could so much as take a step. The spell was followed by a deadly projectile, a broken crab leg reinforced with a thick shell of mercury. Landing right on target, the weaponised limb burrowed itself through the base of the crustacean¡¯s eye and blinded it by severing its optic nerve. Still, it managed to evade. Darting to the side, it escaped the hook with most of its body intact, a sure sign that it had managed to anticipate her second attack.


    What it didn¡¯t anticipate, however, was the first projectile¡¯s ability to drill through its flesh. Claire leapt into the air, positioned herself directly overhead, and pushed the blade with all the magical force she could muster. It was driven straight down, through its target¡¯s flesh. Neither the crab¡¯s brittle cartilage nor its cotton fibres were capable of putting a stop to the blade. Only its gills were able to offer any semblance of resistance, but they were quickly overpowered and destroyed. Just like that, its heart was pierced, torn in half by a weapon made from one of its kind.


    But it didn¡¯t die. Unlike the last crab she fought, which had fallen the moment its heart was crushed, the larger crustacean had yet to suffer a litany of blows. It had certainly been weakened, based on the way that its legs were trembling, but it wasn¡¯t down for the count. Raising its cannon, it fired haphazardly and wildly swung its hook.


    The attack covered a large area, but Claire had already vacated her first victim¡¯s vicinity. Leaving the blinded decapod where it was, she transformed into a centaur, boosted herself down the hall, and charged straight at one of its compatriots. Like its ally, the second crab immediately prepared itself for battle. But raising its arm was about as far as it got. She paralysed it the same way she paralysed its friend and jammed her crab arm straight into the joint holding its gun to its body. She suffered a hook to the arm for the overly ambitious attack, but it was well worth it. The crab was no longer able to move its cannon.


    Catalysts were known for making it easier for mages to cast their magics. And for good reason, at that. They bolstered the spells¡¯ power, lessened their channel times, and honed their accuracy. Or at least that was what they did when they were pointed at their targets. A spell cast through a wand would always fly exactly where said wand was directed. Guiding a magical phenomenon elsewhere required making a conscious effort to exclude the catalyst from the casting process. For a disciplined, well-trained mage, it was an easy, almost negligible task. But the same could not be said for a monster that had spent its life with a magical implement embedded in its body. If the bards were to be believed, at least.


    Moving behind the crab confirmed that the assertion was a fact. The red-shelled sea creature was able to swing its hook at her even after she circled around to its rear, but all the spells it fired were let loose in the direction of its unmoving cannon.


    Claire smirked as she dodged another swing and retaliated by smashing one of its legs. She was starting to see why the corsairs were grunts. They were deadly if allowed to act on all their options, but depriving them of their agency was as easy as robbing a fool of his fortune. Their body plans were incredibly flawed and easy to take advantage of, so long as one was able to bypass their raw stats.


    The corridor¡¯s third and final crab tried to help its associates by attacking Claire with a barrage of bullets and swings, but its melee attacks couldn¡¯t keep up with her centaurian speed and its boulders simply never made their mark. She had it completely fooled with one of the techniques that Durham had explained on one too many occasions. Running at only two thirds her maximum speed and accelerating to different degrees whenever she needed to dodge threw off its aim; it simply couldn¡¯t get a decent enough read on her trajectory to get a good shot on her. The few lucky strikes it nearly landed were all deflected by Shouldersnake. The serpent was bashing its face into all the rocks that strayed too close.


    Claire took the opportunity to focus on crippling the arm-locked crab. Breaking off all its legs with her mace, she tackled it and shoved its face into the sand before charging at the sole combatant that remained fully intact.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    It whipped its hook at her, but Shouldersnake intercepted once again. With her focus no longer split, Claire was able to wrap the serpent along the extended limb and tear it right out of its socket. The broken limb was flung aside as she flashed a confident grin. She already had it in check. It no longer had any way of besting her in close combat. Plunging a leg into its cannon¡¯s shoulder joint would render it completely helpless.


    That was why she thought nothing of it lowering its weapon. Until she nearly tripped over her own feet. Raising her legs turned from a trivial task to one that required attention and care. Her lower limbs were getting sucked into the ground every time she took a step. Because the sand around the crab had all been turned to mud.


    Skittering over the sludge, the crab fired a pair of cannonballs as it approached. She was able to narrowly evade both, but the barrel swing that followed hit her square in the side and sent her tumbling through the air. She managed to repel the projectile that came afterwards by firing an icebolt from her chest, but she couldn¡¯t retaliate or stop the monster from raising its gun to the sky.


    A number of rocks soon followed. A far greater number than what she had anticipated. Every single projectile produced by each of the three corsairs rose alongside the monster¡¯s launcher. Shouldersnake was her only saving grace. The ophidian tore the crab¡¯s arm right off and interrupted its spell midcast.


    Claire dashed in as the monster reeled and barraged it with a mix of physical and magical blows. She clobbered its shell with her mace, fired icy spears from her chest, and even thwacked it with her tail.


    Only after hitting it with the appendage did she recall that her physical attacks were enhanced by her newest skill, in part because the lashing strike had completely shattered the crustacean¡¯s shell, and in part because of the trail of frost left in its wake.


    The goddess¡¯ voice started speaking to her as soon as the attack landed, but she ignored it and focused on the pair that she had yet to execute. In theory, her approach had been perfect. Disabling each crab in turn and looping back around to finish them off was the most efficient use of her energy, and keeping the half-dead individuals around provided the opportunity to finish them if she ever found herself running low on resources. But Claire had failed to adapt. She failed to realise that the third crab¡¯s ability to manipulate every stone was not unique.


    Crab number two was incapable of raising its cannon and casting the spell. But the first brachyuran was not as broken. Holding its cannon in the air, it focused its magic and swarmed her with a wave of missiles.


    Again, she was subjected to a storm of stone, a hail of rocks, sharp and heavy enough to tear her body to shreds. That was why she dashed to the end of the hall, dropped her weapons, and stopped moving. To a bystander, it may have looked as if she was giving up, but that was exactly the opposite of what she had in mind.


    The icy enchantment accompanying her tail had reminded her of another one of her martial arts skill¡¯s functions.


    Projectile deflection.


    The gears in the back of her mind suddenly sped up as she raised her arms and braced for impact. Her hands knew exactly what to do. Just like her hooves and her tail. Each rock that approached was bashed away. Her fingers snuck between the spikes and knocked them off course. Her scaled brush darted through the air, smashing everything it touched right into the sand below.


    Her defence wasn¡¯t perfect. The occasional stone bullet would slip through or fail to be knocked perfectly astray, but Shouldersnake made up for most of her more egregious errors. She didn¡¯t exactly come out unscathed, but unlike the previous barrage, which had placed her on death¡¯s door, the second left her with most of her health present and accounted for.


    Her arms were covered in scratches, one of her fingers was broken, and her tail was frayed. The soft, feathery mane was completely ruined. But that was it. Her ability to do battle had only barely been compromised. By contrast, the crustacean was dying. The quicksilver flowing through its system had weakened it. Retrieving the leg embedded within its body¡ªmagically ripping it straight from its chest¡ªwas more than enough to finish it off.


    The final crab was executed just as easily. Closing the distance, she leapt atop its back and stomped with all her might, crushing its shell and spraying its guts across the beach.


    Only then did she finally stop to catch her breath and check her log.


    Log Entry 1829


    You have slain a level 76 Llystletein Cotton Crab Corsair.


    Log Entry 1830


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Force Mage, has reached level 45.


    You have gained 6 ability points.


    Log Entry 1831


    Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts has reached level 6.


    Log Entry 1832


    Ice Manipulation has reached level 6.


    Log Entry 1833


    Lyrkrian Shapeshifting has reached level 7.


    Seven already?


    Log Entry 1834


    You have slain a level 72 Llystletein Cotton Crab Corsair.


    Log Entry 1835


    Cloak and Dagger has reached level 9.


    Log Entry 1836


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Frostblight Lyrkress, has reached level 52.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Force Mage, has reached level 46.


    You have gained 18 ability points.


    Another force mage level. It¡¯s getting close¡­


    Log Entry 1837


    Club Mastery has reached level 12.


    Log Entry 1838


    Force Manipulation has reached level 17.


    Log Entry 1839


    Makeshift Weapon Mastery has reached level 18.


    Log Entry 1840


    Throwing has reached level 8.


    Log Entry 1841


    You have slain a level 81 Llystletein Cotton Crab Corsair.


    Log Entry 1842


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Bloodthief, has reached level 56.


    You have gained 6 ability points.


    Only one? From something almost double my level? Getting my second ascension is going to take a really long time, isn¡¯t it?


    Log Entry 1843


    Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts has reached level 7.


    Log Entry 1844


    Phantom Blade has reached level 7.


    Log Entry 1845


    Achievement Unlocked - The Reckless Reign Triumphant


    You have actively engaged in a number of acts that others would deem suicidal and come out on top. First kill bonuses will provide your vitality with an even greater increase to accommodate your lack of caution.


    The bonus is nice, but I¡¯m not reckless, Box. No one thinks that.


    ¡°Woah! I can¡¯t believe you managed to pull that off!¡± Sylvia stepped out from behind a nearby rock. ¡°I thought going after them one by one was crazy enough, but you went after all three at the same time!¡±


    Okay, fine. One person thinks it.


    Log Entry 1846


    You have received a divine revelation:


    Two.


    ¡­Shut up, Box. Goddesses aren''t people.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ Claire? Helloooo?¡± Sylvia climbed up the lyrkress¡¯ front and started waving a paw in front of her face. ¡°Did one of them hit you too hard in the head or something?¡±


    Claire grabbed the fox by the nape and set her back down. ¡°I was thinking.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right. Logs and stuff. Do you need another minute?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m done now.¡±


    ¡°Great! So¡­ I guess that means we¡¯re finally going to start moving through the maze?¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Yes! I can¡¯t wait for you to start taking down eels! They¡¯re some of Llystletein¡¯s tastiest fish!¡±


    ¡°No promises.¡±


    The next intersection wasn¡¯t very far from where she had slain the crabs. The only thing stopping her from using it was a simple, but profound question that made her long for her guiding candle.


    Left? Or right?

 Chapter 84 - The Weavers Map IV

    Chapter 84 - The Weaver''s Map IV


    Three dead ends was all it took for Claire to develop an understanding of both the maze and the sadistic degenerate that had designed it. At best, exploring the labyrinth was painful. At worst, it was an incarnation of raw frustration.


    The corridors were divided into three different types, with the first being straight empty halls. Though seemingly harmless, their size rendered them incredibly obnoxious. Some took minutes to traverse, even with the lyrkress running at a full gallop, while others would lead to dead ends that were invisible from a distance.


    Far less common were the monster-bearing variants. They were often filled with rocks and debris, but monster halls were much shorter than their emptier counterparts, often requiring only a fifth of the time to dash from one end to the other. Despite all her exploring, Claire had only discovered three beyond the first, with a total of six crabs split unevenly between them. The monsters¡¯ levels fluctuated from seventy to eighty-five, but none were able to injure her as heavily as the first. Knowing their strengths and weaknesses enabled her to eliminate them easily and in short order.


    The most obnoxious corridors were the ones filled with traps. The inconveniences and defence mechanisms were nothing but malicious, with most amounting to little beyond petty harassment. Some would fling manure and stain her cloak with unsanitary substances, while others would play ear-piercing screeches. One particularly sadistic contraption would first dump water on its victims and blast them with cold air once they were thoroughly soaked. The lyrkress was unaffected, but the fox was apparently so miserable that she decided to cheat and keep herself in a safety bubble from that point onwards.


    Though the traps themselves were already irksome, the most painful part of the design, by far, was that they would activate every time she passed them by; she was subjected to the exact same mind-numbing set of displeasures each time she backtracked. The repetition was driving her insane. Just like the long empty halls. She couldn''t tell which was worse, but whatever the case, there were only three types of corridors¡ªa fact ratified by both the fox and her own experiences. Knowing that was precisely why Claire was incredibly confused to turn a corner and find herself face to face with a tiny room containing a large wooden chest.


    Knowing that it was anything but what it appeared, the lyrkress flicked her tongue and sank into thought. The first possibility she considered was that the chest was a mimic, but that seemed far too obvious a card for the labyrinth¡¯s sadistic overseer to play. She didn¡¯t think it possible for the malicious scoundrel to subject her to something so bland and boring.


    ¡°There has to be more to it,¡± she muttered. ¡°It has to be some sort of trap. But what if he made it a mimic just because he thought I would think it wasn¡¯t?¡±


    Biting her tongue in annoyance, she approached the box and kicked it as hard as she could. Her hoof tore right through the wood and split it in half, confirming the suspicion that it wasn''t a monster in disguise. That, she expected. But what she didn¡¯t expect was for a piece of loot to come rolling out the top. It was a large wooden mallet, marked on both ends with a stamp in the shape of a crab. The bludgeoning tool was about a meter long, with the hammer-like part featuring a diameter of roughly twenty centimeters. It wasn¡¯t the most impressive weapon, but it could certainly be put to use.


    ¡°There¡¯s no reason not to take it.¡± With another mutter, Claire picked it up and turned around, only to find that she was no longer staring down the hall she had just come from. Instead, she was greeted with an infuriatingly familiar scene. Because the walls were lined with boulder-shaped holes and the bloodstained sand was covered with tiny wads of cotton.


    It was the start.


    The place she had fought her first crab.


    A low groan escaped her throat as she realised that the chest really had just been another trap, albeit one that was more cleverly designed than the others. Slowly shaking her head, she looked down at her consolation prize in an attempt to determine if it had been worth her time, only to find it missing. There was nothing in her hand, even though she could have sworn that she had felt the wood against her skin until she turned to look at it.


    Her right eye twitching, she grit her teeth, fought back the urge to slug the wall, and retraced the path that her tail had left in the sand.


    ____


    Only after an hour of exploring did the halfbreed find her way back to her previous location. Having learned her lesson, she turned in the direction opposite the chest and walked down a completely different corridor. Operation avoid the chest was both a go and a perfect success. Until she turned three corners and found herself staring at a second wooden box.


    The backtracking process repeated itself, over and over, with very little progress to be made between each iteration. She was never able to make more than five new turns without running into another piece of imaginary loot. The worst part of it all was that seeing the chest was apparently enough to bring her back to the start. It didn¡¯t matter whether or not she opened it. Turning around would always immediately trigger the effect.


    Five rage-inducing incidents later, Claire heaved a heavy sigh and cast an unamused glare at the sky. It was getting late. She had barely made progress, but the sun was already on the verge of sinking beneath the horizon.


    Sylvia had already set up another large tent made of palm leaves, positioned right by the maze¡¯s entrance. The lyrkress had no idea where the furball had managed to get them, seeing as how Crabby Crags was devoid of trees, but she was too exhausted to raise any questions or concerns. Lumbering over to the open flame, she thought of a hundred different ways to insult the twisted celestial before plopping her face down in the sand. Her half centaurian frame made the motion incredibly awkward, but she didn¡¯t care. She couldn¡¯t be bothered to seat herself on the log that the vixen had prepared.


    ¡°I give up,¡± she muttered, through a mouth of sand. ¡°I¡¯m going to be stuck here until I die.¡±


    She had forced herself to press on because Llystletein force mage was on the verge of evolving, but she hadn¡¯t been able to find any more monsters, even after half a day¡¯s worth of exploration. She just wasn¡¯t getting anywhere. Five chests was already five too many.


    ¡°Come on, Claire, don¡¯t give up!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯s not like there aren''t any exits. You just have to find them.¡±


    ¡°You gave up before me.¡±


    The fox had decided to call it a day after their third forced reset, despite her bubble repelling most of the traps that the other halfbreed had been forced to endure.


    ¡°Only because I needed to set up camp!¡±


    ¡°Whatever.¡± Pushing herself off the ground, the lyrkress hid behind a rock and rinsed herself off. ¡°I swear to Box, I¡¯m going to start breaking down these stupid walls next time I run into a chest.¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea¡­ Running away is gonna be a lot harder if the walls are full of holes. And ummm¡­ I think some of the monsters in here might actually be over level 100.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll deal with it when it happens.¡±


    It was the third time the pair had repeated the exchange. Having already determined that the walls weren¡¯t made of magic, Claire was only a hair¡¯s breadth away from ordering Shoulderhorse to consume them. Caution was the only reason she had refrained; she wasn¡¯t keen on the idea of suddenly finding herself face to face with a monster too far out of her league. Optimally, she wanted to raise all her classes to level 75 before fighting any of the crabs¡¯ warrior equivalents, but she knew she was likely going to have to settle for just evolving force mage. There simply weren¡¯t enough monsters out and about for her to acquire the experience she needed.


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    All the filth finally cleansed, Claire walked back over to the fire and sat down in the sand. Concentrating on her cloak, she slowly transformed it into something more comfortable, a thin nightgown made of silk, just long enough to cover her body from head to tail.


    ¡°Say, Claire?¡± Sylvia got up off a bed of leaves, walked over to the log, and curled up by Claire¡¯s side.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Can you tell me a bit more about uhmm¡­ Valenininsee or whatever it was called?¡±


    ¡°Valencia?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that! All this exploring is starting to make me kinda curious about the world outside of Llystletein. Al has maps and stuff¡­ but they¡¯re all thousands of years old and he¡¯s really bad at telling stories.¡±


    Pausing momentarily, Claire pursed her lips, lowered her gaze, and stared straight into the crackling flame. ¡°Do you want to know about the city? Or do you just want to hear some of the songs that Valencia¡¯s bards sing? Most of them are stories.¡±


    ¡°You can sing?¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice.


    ¡°Not anymore.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right. Singing is technically a combat skill, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°I can¡¯t become a bard anymore either.¡±


    ¡°Aww¡­ That¡¯s too bad. We could¡¯ve sung some really awesome duets. I¡¯ve never gotten to do that before since none of the other foxes are any good at it. I¡¯m the only half elf, and Dad¡¯s voice isn¡¯t high or low enough to compliment mine all that well.¡±


    ¡°The other foxes can¡¯t sing?¡±


    Sylvia giggled. ¡°They¡¯re so bad you wouldn¡¯t believe it. Not even the skill helps!¡±


    The vixen sang a distinctly elven tune as she got back up and stepped a bit closer to the campfire. It was full of long, high-pitched notes that almost seemed to echo into the night. Each was accompanied by a flash of magic, a manifestation of the power that distinct sounds could bring.


    ¡°My dad¡¯s the one that taught me to sing,¡± said Sylvia, as her tune continued. Claire didn¡¯t know how the half-elf was doing it, but she was singing and whispering at once, with neither interrupting the other. ¡°He has a really weird class that makes him stronger if he sings while he fights.¡±


    A flick of the tail created a translucent but otherwise perfect copy of the fox. The illusion¡ªthe echo¡ªkept the hymn going, even as the vixen herself quieted.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound very convenient,¡± said Claire. ¡°He¡¯d be in trouble if anything winded him.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not as bad as it sounds, since he can do stuff like this too.¡± Sylvia pointed a paw at her echo. ¡°Anyway, enough about me and my dad. Tell me about Valensa!¡±


    ¡°Valencia.¡±


    ¡°Whatever! The name doesn¡¯t even really matter!¡± The fox got up on her hind legs just to cross her arms and huff.


    ¡°Names matter. As a bard, that¡¯s something you of all people should know best.¡± Claire rolled her eyes and prodded the vixen¡¯s nose with a finger. ¡°I haven¡¯t told you anything because you haven¡¯t answered the question yet. Do you want to hear about the city? Or do you want to hear what the bards sing about?¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ how about a personal story?¡±


    ¡°That works.¡± Claire closed her eyes for a moment as she sifted through the memories of her childhood. ¡°Have I ever told you anything about my family?¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ just your dad. You didn¡¯t really talk about anyone else.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll tell you a story about one of my most gullible cousins.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that sounds like a good one!¡±


    A faint smile crept onto Claire¡¯s lips. ¡°Very.¡±


    Her eyes distant, Claire began to recite a fond memory, a memory about a beautiful royal garden, a porcelain fountain of youth, and a devilishly sly half-snake full of malicious intent.


    ___


    Despite spending the evening in high spirits, the lyrkress found herself eluded by a good night¡¯s sleep. Thoughts of catgirls plaguing her mind, she had to toss and turn for the better part of an hour before finally passing out and drifting off to the land of dreams.


    And even then, freedom remained outside her grasp. She could hear their giggles as she dashed through the empty manor¡¯s halls, growing louder and louder no matter how far she ran. They bothered her, disturbed her, and filled her with the urge to empty the contents of her stomach. But they were nowhere near as frightening as her father. Even if they made her feel sick to be in her own skin.


    Panting heavily, she threw open the door to the courtyard and burst through it in hopes of running through her mother¡¯s bedroom. But the familiar enclosure was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she found herself standing in a certain familiar bathroom, where a dishevelled man lay face down in the tub with a silver artifact and two slices of bread. She wasn¡¯t exactly happy to see him wearing nothing but a towel, but she felt it was well worth the exchange. His lavatory was impervious to the sounds made by her pursuers.


    His phantom arose from his body shortly after she entered, chuckling as he looked upon his twitching other half. He went on a bit of a rant that culminated into an awkward laugh as a few too many words appeared in her mind, all at once.


    ¡°Breakfast in bath bad idea. Nearly died.¡±


    The corners of her lips twitched as a sharp pain shot through the back of her skull. Even though she didn¡¯t have a body. Seeing the reaction, the man put a hand to his mouth, averted his gaze and silently muttered what seemed to be an apology under his breath before snapping his fingers and teleporting them to another room.


    No longer drowning, his body had moved to a desk, where it was staring intently at a magical box featuring a complicated set of diagrams. Claire had no idea what ¡°linear regression¡± and ¡°t-values¡± were, and she wasn¡¯t planning on finding out. Fortunately, the phantom was in accord; making her study didn¡¯t seem to be at the top of his to-do list.


    Another snap of his fingers brought them to the usual room with the usual set of artifacts. Only this time, the man wasn¡¯t in control. His body was sitting back, relaxed with a bowl of food in one hand and a metal cup in the other. He didn¡¯t reach for the artifact that allowed him to manipulate it, even as the box displayed a set of dark glowing screens.


    After glancing at her, his ghost rubbed a hand on his chin before clapping his hands together and going on a bit of a rant, summarised in her mind as ¡°Play. Similar.¡±


    Log Entry 1866


    Detect Force Magic has reached level 16.


    It took her a moment to realise that he meant that it was like an act in a theatre, that the people enslaved within the box were performing a stageplay to serve as entertainment. And entertaining it was. The whole night seemed to vanish as she watched a snarky doctor work through case after case, each with higher stakes than the last. Songs would play and credits would roll after each major act; she could tell that she was watching not one production, but a series of interconnected, elaborate dramas with each technically distinct from the last. She almost felt like no time had passed, even when the phantom pointed to his magical clock and vanished into the void.


    ___


    Claire


    Health: 2500/2500


    Mana: 4739/4739


    Health Regen: 662/hour (1324/hour)


    Mana Regen: 3384/hour


    Ability Scores - 190 Points Available


    - Agility: 386


    - Dexterity: 355


    - Spirit: 318


    - Strength: 296


    - Vitality: 331


    - Wisdom: 564


    Racial Class: Frostblight Lyrkress - Level 53.41


    - Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts - Level 8.13


    - Paralyzing Gaze - Level 8.20


    - Ice Manipulation - Level 7.05


    - Lyrkrian Shapeshifting - Level 8.56


    - Thermodynamic Regulation - Level 4.81


    Primary Class: Llystletein Bloodthief - Level 57.04


    - Assassinate - Level 12.31


    - Bloodthief - Level 11.21


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 9.14


    - Envenom - Level 13.79


    - Manathief - Level 10.10


    - Phantom Blade - Level 8.54


    Secondary Class: Llystletein Force Mage - Level 49.17


    - Basic Force Resistance - Level 4.64


    - Catgirl Detector V. 0.32 - Level 7.31


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 16.45


    - Force Manipulation - Level 18.06


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 2.50


    - Axe Mastery - Level 1.04


    - Club Mastery - Level 12.10


    - Cooking - Level 1.00


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 12.23


    - Dancing - Level 7.60


    - Digging - Level 11.99


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 6.10


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 18.87


    - Marish - Level 19.08


    - Sewing - Level 1.42


    - Sneaking - Level 15.65


    - Spear Mastery - Level 5.46


    - Sword Mastery - Level 8.38


    - Throwing - Level 8.49

 Chapter 85 - The Weavers Map V

    Chapter 85 - The Weaver''s Map V


    Raising her arms overhead and extending her tail as far as it would go, Claire stretched out her spine and prepared herself for the day to come. Bit by bit, the night¡¯s shadows were receding. Though the labyrinth¡¯s walls kept the sun hidden, she could see its light slowly creeping overhead, shining above the towering prison like a beacon of hope and warmth.


    Though still not at her best, the previous night¡¯s lucid dream had left her feeling much better. She had enjoyed it so much, in fact, that she was tempted to go right back to sleep so she could continue experiencing the curtain-raiser for herself. The series was of a much higher production value than anything she had seen outside her dreams, with the actors going as far as allowing their guts to be sliced open in the name of art. It was truly an impressive work ethic, but as much as the halfbreed admired their diligence, she had no intention of ever replicating their fervour¡ªnot that she had a choice. Escaping the labyrinth was going to be just as gut-opening an experience. That, she knew for a fact.


    Where¡¯s Sylvia?


    Looking around, Claire found that the fox was nowhere to be seen. She knew that she was somewhere nearby. She could hear the fuzzy critter breathing, but her ears seemed to be sending mixed messages. One said she was to the left, while the other was confident that she was everywhere at once. All the audio cues seemed to testify that the fox was directly overhead, but her weight was nonpresent. The strange combination of sensations left the halfbreed raising her brow and flicking her tongue in confusion.


    With a sneaking suspicion in mind, she placed a hand on her forehead and slowly combed through her hair. She didn¡¯t stop until caught off guard by the combination of an unexpected warm object and a sudden ¡°eep!¡± Both had come from right on top of one of her ears. Nearly jumping out of her skin, Claire pulled her hand back to her chest and blinked rapidly before casting her gaze on the true ice shard and looking at her reflection.


    There, she found a second pair of ears sticking out from between her silvery blue locks. The fluffers were so tiny that she likely wouldn¡¯t have noticed them had their colours not been so different from her own; the oranges and blacks clearly belonged to a foreign entity. A tail soon rose up from between the blue-white weeds, accompanied by a humanoid with a bright red face.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°I was sleeping,¡± squeaked the supposed fox, as she yawned and stretched.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you should be naked in other people¡¯s hair.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not naked! Look!¡±


    Puffing out her cheeks, the pixie floated out of the lyrkress¡¯ mane and hovered right in front of her face. Surely enough, she was wearing a simple dress weaved from the leaves of a palm tree.


    Now that she no longer had to avert her eyes to the other girl¡¯s nudity, Claire realised that Sylvia carried a fair number of elven features. For one, her body was almost disproportionately slender for its height. She wasn¡¯t so thin that she looked unhealthy, but she was skinny enough for the blueblood to think that she was doing her utmost to manage her weight, despite all the evidence to the contrary.


    Her face was almost completely akin to that of an elf¡¯s, with the only remarkable differences being the tiny fangs that poked out from under her lips and the claw-like markings under her eyes. But the most distinguishing feature of all was her second set of ears, the pointed tips of which peaked out from under a head of fluffy, waist-length hair. From afar, the orange, black, and white colouration made it almost impossible to tell where her locks ended and where her tail began.


    ¡°That hardly makes it any better,¡± said Claire. Is she¡­ a few years older than me? That can¡¯t be right.


    ¡°Yes it does! It means I wasn¡¯t naked!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s still lewd. Those aren''t real clothes.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, you¡¯re way too mean for your own good.¡± Sylvia put her hands on her hips. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know that it¡¯s cold at night and the tent wasn¡¯t cutting it on its own. The fire was already dead, so you were the warmest thing around.¡±


    ¡°Next time, I¡¯ll have to do this all night.¡± Closing her eyes, she emitted an ice-cold aura and chilled the air around her.


    The fairy grabbed her shoulders and immediately started to shiver. ¡°I won¡¯t be able to sleep if you do that!¡±


    Log Entry 1867


    Thermodynamic Regulation has reached level 5.


    ¡°I know.¡± Claire took a deep breath. ¡°I don¡¯t like people touching my ears.¡±


    ¡°But you let me do it during the day all the time!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not asleep during the day.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t know. You tell me. What is the difference between getting groped during the day and getting groped at night?¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! They¡¯re just ears!¡±


    ¡°Centaurs are attracted to ears.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a centaur!¡±


    ¡°Well I am.¡±


    ¡°Only half!¡±


    Claire sighed and took a moment to sift through her knowledge of elves before replying. ¡°How would you feel if I drooled all over your thighs while you were asleep?¡±


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    ¡°Ummm¡­ pretty weirded out, I guess.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    ¡°Ohhh¡­ I think I¡¯m starting to get it no¡ªhey! Wait a second! I wasn¡¯t drooling!¡±


    Rolling her eyes, the lyrkress created a bolt of ice, forged it into something that loosely resembled a mirror, and held it up to the fox-elf. ¡°You were saying?¡±


    Sylvia averted her eyes as she noticed the stream of a line of saliva running down the corner of her mouth. ¡°Oops.¡±


    After flicking the fairy on the forehead and sending her flying into the tent, Claire placed her hands on her ears and rinsed them off them with streams of stale water. ¡°You can sleep on my head, but only if you stay away from my ears.¡±


    ¡°But they¡¯re so soft and comfy! They¡¯re basically like perfect, fairy-sized beds!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m already making a compromise,¡± grumbled the snake. ¡°What you want is like me asking to sleep on your th¡ª¡±


    ¡°You can sleep on my thighs if I get to sleep on your ears.¡± Sylvia cut her off before she could finish. It was a decisive statement, made with nothing but absolute certainty.


    There was a moment of silence.


    A long, awkward pause.


    Both their faces were deadpan. But not for the same reason.


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Awwww! Why not?¡±


    ¡°No means no.¡±


    ¡°Please?¡±


    ¡°It makes me uncomfortable.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Sylvia¡¯s ears drooped.


    Another moment of silence.


    Taking several deep breaths, Claire ran a finger across her spike before continuing in a silent whisper, barely audible, even to the half elf floating just a few inches from her face. ¡°Especially after what happened with the statue.¡±


    ¡°Sorry¡­¡± Her tail followed her ears, flopping over completely as she hovered to the ground and turned back into a fox. ¡°I should¡¯ve known better.¡± She started to pad one of the tent¡¯s corners with some of the spare leaves. ¡°I think I can make something that¡¯s kinda comfy if I use some of my fur. It¡¯ll grow back really quickly, even if I pull it out.¡±


    Great. Now you¡¯re making me feel bad. Claire clenched her jaws and flicked her tongue against the back of her teeth. The action was repeated roughly a dozen times before she finally opened her mouth. ¡°You can use my tail.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± The fox turned around and blinked.


    ¡°My tail,¡± repeated the horse snake. ¡°It¡¯s fuzzier than my hair.¡±


    Sylvia¡¯s eyes lit up, only to narrow less than half a second later. ¡°Isn¡¯t that even more lewd?¡±


    ¡°Tails aren''t lewd,¡± said the snake girl.


    ¡°Yes they are!¡± shouted the fox. ¡°Ugh, whatever! Is your tail warm?¡±


    ¡°Dunno.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°I knew that! But I mean¡­ arghhh! You¡¯re so difficult!¡±


    Sylvia clamped her jaws down on one of the half-snake¡¯s flippers, but to no avail. Her teeth couldn¡¯t get through the odd bony appendage, so she gnawed on it a few extra times just to send a message. The half-hearted attack was akin to a pinch, something that would inflict a tiny bit of pain without inducing any real harm.


    ¡°I¡¯m not being difficult. ¡­At least not this time.¡± Claire frowned as she scooped the furball up with her prehensile paint brush. ¡°I really can¡¯t tell. It just feels¡­ normal.¡±


    ¡°It feels warm to me, and it¡¯s really soft too, softer than your hair.¡±


    ¡°Good. Now stay away from my ears. Pervert.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a pervert!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you.¡±


    ¡°Well I¡¯m not!¡±


    Kneading the bridge of her nose and setting the vixen back down, the lyrkress stepped out of the tent, warped her nightgown into a bright red dress, and summoned a plate of bread. Filling her lungs with the morning air freshened her mind and led her to recall a tool from the land of dreams. Seeing as how she would have nothing to do until her breakfast was ready, she decided to sit down and try her hand at forging it.


    She started by producing a large bolt of ice. The magical creation was chiselled and shrunk until it transformed into a 15 centimeter long fragment that could easily be held between her thumb and middle finger. Having gotten it to roughly the right size, she focused her manipulation on the blade¡¯s tip, sharpening it as finely as she could. She continued to refine it, making it thinner and thinner, stopping only as the bread basket popped itself into existence. Stars in her eyes, the rogue bit her lips, picked up a piece of bread with her tail, and immediately put the blade to the test.


    There was a distinctive crunch, the sound of the bread being crushed, followed by an even more distinctive crack. Claire could feel all the energy drain from her body as she closed her eyes and slowly reopened them. The blade she had spent nearly ten minutes refining was broken, snapped right down the middle.


    Logically, she understood that it was a foregone conclusion. The tiny knife wasn¡¯t sharp enough to do what she wanted it to do, nor was it robust enough to survive the process. Further belittling her attempt was the sun¡¯s presence. It was melting the already thin ice and weakening the integrity of its brittle structure.


    Claire¡¯s disappointment was immeasurable and her day was ruined, but she realised, as she took a bite out of a piece of bread, that not all hope was lost. The concept¡ªcrafting a weapon from a block of ice¡ªcould still be salvaged, even if inapplicable to the precision instrument she had literally taken out of a dream.


    ¡°Do you want any?¡± Claire lifted a morsel from the basket and looked behind her, at the fox with the tip of a leaf sticking out from between her jaws.


    ¡°No thanks. I just ate,¡± said Sylvia, as she swallowed.


    ¡°I thought foxes were supposed to eat meat.¡±


    ¡°We are! But that¡¯s not all we eat. I have just as much fruit and eggs.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you won¡¯t get a stomachache from eating leaves?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so? I eat leaves all the time.¡±


    ¡°But this is your first time trying palm, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Oh no¡­¡± Her eyes shot open as her stomach rumbled, as if on cue. ¡°I ummm¡­ think I¡¯m going to go to the bathroom¡­¡± An uncomfortable grimace on her face, the fox dashed towards the closest rock and hid herself behind it.


    Shaking her head and laughing, the snake girl shot a series of ice bolts into the sand in front of her. Melding them together allowed her to create a large spear shaped almost exactly like the one the basement-dwelling rotblood had used against her. It seemed fairly sturdy at first, but she soon found that not even the massive chunk was immune to the power of the sun. Beads of water dribbled down its shaft as she held it and there was a small splash every time she swung it through the air.


    She wouldn¡¯t have minded if it was at least durable enough to last her through a fight, but it broke whenever she smacked it against the wall. Because unlike the blade in her chest, the weapon she forged was not made of true ice. Claire knew that the shard was capable of producing the less-brittle substance, or at least endowing regular ice with its properties, but she had no idea how she was supposed to do it. The ice she produced from her chest was hardly any different from the ice she produced from her hands, no matter how hard she focused. Grumbling, she shelved the experiment for the time being and got back to eating. There was still a whole basket of bread to be consumed, and her stomach wasn¡¯t going to fill itself.


    Sylvia returned from behind a large rock shortly afterwards. Refusing to make eye contact, she walked over to the basket, picked up a piece of bread, and nibbled away without a word.


    Claire didn¡¯t openly claim victory, but she certainly did go through a few cycles worth of internal gloating. One of them had made a horrible mistake. And for once, it wasn¡¯t her.

 Chapter 86 - The Weavers Map VI

    Chapter 86 - The Weaver''s Map VI


    With both breakfast and a quick experiment out of the way, the lyrkress shook her head clear of any remaining negative thoughts and headed back into the maze. At first, she thought to retrace the previous day¡¯s steps, but caving to an arbitrary whim sent her on a completely different trajectory.


    It took her about an hour for her ears to finally pick up on another group of crabs. It didn¡¯t sound too far away, but reaching it required a second hour, courtesy of a random chest. Once she finally arrived at the distant clicking, she looked down the hall to find nothing but a wave of disappointment. She needed at least two more kills for force mage to reach its final level, but there was only one target available. Her exasperation persisted until she took a second look at the monster, transforming into a burst of curiosity as she realised that it was twice the size of all the others.


    The crustacean standing in her path was equipped with none of the corsairs¡¯ trademarks. There wasn¡¯t an eyepatch, cannon, or hook anywhere in sight. Its right arm was a rusted iron cutlass, a massive curved blade that measured in at nearly two meters long. It didn¡¯t appear sharp, but it was certainly deadly; sparks flew every time the metallic weapon was carelessly dragged over a rock. Its left arm was even more disturbing. It was a large, human-like hand with a small claw at the end of each finger. Over half its legs were missing, replaced by large pegs made of a tough, polished wood. While the corsairs were red enough for her to think them cooked, the larger individual had not a hint of the colour anywhere on its body. Its shell was a deep blue, perfect for blending in with the sea.


    But as striking as all those features were, none kept Claire¡¯s attention for long. She was more focused on its attire. Unlike the others, which had wandered around ¨¤ la Sylvia, it was wreathed in a full set of garments, a white button-up shirt, a pair of baggy pants, and a bandanna large enough to double as a sail. It even wore shoes. All of its feet, pegged or otherwise, were protected with thick leather boots, tough enough to survive the high seas.


    Pulling her head around the corner, she transformed her dress into a piece of armour, not the stiff full plates that the knights always wore, but a simpler set of leather protectors, akin to those often seen on treasure hunters and mages. She wasn¡¯t able to recreate a sheet of metal on the fly, but leather was easy. Half the manor¡¯s furniture had been made of it and she knew just how tough the most expensive kinds could be.


    ¡°Ummm¡­ Claire?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not thinking of fighting that, are you?¡±


    The lyrkress frowned. ¡°What level is it?¡±


    ¡°I dunno, but it¡¯s probably over 100.¡±


    Sylvia clearly didn¡¯t think it was a good idea, but Claire was not as quick to come to a conclusion. Llystletein force mage was getting extremely close to its evolution, and though she knew that she was best off waiting for it, her patience was starting to wear thin. She didn¡¯t want to spend another half a day wandering the halls; there was no guarantee that she would find another monster room, and even if she did, there was a fair chance that she would either fail to gain enough experience or run into a second variant.


    More importantly, the circumstances at hand provided her a way to confront it without putting herself at risk. There was a room with a chest only two turns away. Escape was as easy as running at top speed and skidding around a pair of corners. It was tempting. Very, very tempting. But it was also dangerous, a foolish gamble at best. She couldn¡¯t make up her mind.


    ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Mhm?¡±


    ¡°Pick a number from one to ten.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Why? That came out of nowhere.¡±


    ¡°Just do it.¡±


    ¡°Okay¡­ ummm¡­ Ten!¡± The tip of the fox¡¯s tail split into ten distinct points.


    ¡°Why did I even ask?¡±


    Shaking her head, the lyrkress shot a dozen bolts of ice into the sand and fused them into a pair of jagged spears. They were warming beneath the sun¡¯s burning rays, but the freezing aura she radiated kept them from melting.


    ¡°Claire? It¡¯s really not a good idea¡­¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the one that said ¡®ten.¡¯¡±


    After waiting for the crab to sit down with its back turned, Claire dashed into the hallway, leapt over a three-meter-tall rock formation, and drilled both her spears into its back. All of her offensive skills kicked in as she bored the weapons straight through the crustacean¡¯s shell. Envenom coated its insides with a layer of quicksilver. Spear mastery and frostblight lyrkrian martial arts empowered the attack, feeding it the fuel it needed to strike true. Phantom blade delivered a second pair of blows and restored all the mana she had consumed. And assassinate systematically quintupled every last drop of damage she dealt, ensuring that its heart was torn to bits.


    But it wasn¡¯t enough. Not even with Shouldersnake digging into the open wound.


    A swipe of the crab¡¯s fist caught Claire in the side and slammed her into the nearest rock. Grimacing and slowly raising her head, the halfbreed found that the crab had already turned to face her. Despite the heart-wrenching wound, it remained perfectly calm and collected, watching her carefully as it put its claw-hand behind its back and raised its sword in a manner reminiscent of a fencer.


    She wasn¡¯t adept at reading the expressions of non-humanoids, but she could have sworn that its eyes were filled with scorn, that it was mocking her for daring to challenge it with her highest class at only half its level. And she had to agree. Killing something that had fifty levels up on her was a fool¡¯s errand.


    But it wasn¡¯t the first time.


    And it wouldn¡¯t be the last.


    Clenching her teeth, she ignored the cracks in her ribcage, rose to her feet, and drew her club. Again, she raised the weapon overhead and charged. She had the initiative. But not even all the initiative in the world would have allowed her to get past the cutlass.


    Her swings were repelled with ease. She tried every angle she could fathom. Overhead strikes, horizontal sweeps, and diagonal slashes were all parried with a few casual flicks of the wrist. But no counterattacks came. It ignored all the opportunities presented and simply maintained its stance. The monster almost seemed to be toying with her, playing with the idiot that had walked into its den as would a cat with an injured mouse.


    But Claire was not dissuaded. Raising her weapon, she brought it down with all her might, as she had several times already. The crab moved to deflect it, lightly swinging its blade at just the right angle to ward off the incoming blow. But a magical force disrupted its parry. The spell pushed its cutlass aside before it could make contact and left it exposed to a heavy overhead swing.


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    It landed right in the middle of its jaw, breaking it wide open and creating a network of cracks that ran through the front of its body. But again, the crab remained undissuaded. Punching her in the gut with its hand, it knocked the wind from her lungs and took a step back before resuming its usual posture. Its eyes were still focused on her, cool, calm, and collected. It seemed to think nothing of the wounds she had dealt it, not bothering to touch or even look at its injuries.


    There was only one change.


    It finally started to retaliate.


    Stepping forward, it dashed towards her with the speed of an arrow and the ferocity of a boar. Reacting to the piercing rush took every last bit of the speed she had at her disposal. She was barely able to twist her head out of the way. The rusted weapon nicked her ear, catching its very tip as she pushed forward and lunged at the monster¡¯s shoulder.


    For a moment, it looked as if the strike would land. Her trajectory was perfect. One more push was all it would take for her to claim its arm and remove the sword that had her on the ropes. But the attack was repelled. She had no idea when or how it happened, but the brachyuran retracted its arm at an impossible speed and parried her blow with its sabre. As it had almost every other attack she launched. There was no time for her to react, let alone magically disrupt its defence.


    Once, twice, thrice, the sequence of events repeated. Every time, the crab¡¯s blade would grow closer. And every time, she found herself further and further from its arm.


    It was learning to deal with her magic faster than she was learning to deal with its swordplay. The battle wasn¡¯t going as well as she hoped. She had to retreat.


    Grimacing, Claire used her tail to fling a wave of sand at the crab¡¯s eyes. She spun around, turned her flippers into legs, and ran off as the dust settled.


    The visual distraction bought her a few seconds. She was able to get a head start, a good three hundred meters. But even with a massive lead, she found it difficult to stay out of the crustacean¡¯s grasp. It practically flew at her. Its legs blurred. They moved so quickly that she couldn¡¯t tell the wooden prosthetics from their unpegged counterparts.


    Nothing could stop its blind charge. It ploughed right through the rocks in its path, trampling them underfoot as easily as it would a field of weeds. It was gaining on her. And rounding the corner didn¡¯t help. Whereas the half-centaur had to modulate her momentum, the crab was able to change directions on a dime, as if completely unbound by the pull of inertia.


    It got closer with every passing second. She tried pushing it away with her tail, but though she was able to reduce its speed by a tiny fraction, it continued to close the distance. Both were subject to a spray of water and a blast of cold air as they passed through a trap. She was unaffected, but it flinched, just long enough for her to round the second corner.


    Panting heavily, she turned away from the chest and towards the labyrinth¡¯s start.


    But it wasn¡¯t there.


    What she found instead was a blade aimed right for her neck. There was no avoiding it. She couldn¡¯t dodge the fatal blow. So she threw up an arm and traded the limb for her life. Agony coursed through her veins and shot up her spine as the rusty blade cleaved through her flesh. Both the bones in her forearm were shattered by the force, completely destroyed as half the appendage fell into the sand. Blood erupted from the stump, spilling uncontrollably, drop after drop without pause.


    The labyrinth had refused to warp her.


    And the crab was blocking the only exit.


    She was trapped, trapped in a small room with an opponent far out of her league.


    Gritting her teeth, she hissed as she blocked the crab¡¯s second slash with her mace. And the third. And the fourth. She was barely able to deflect its attacks. Again, her force magic was the only reason she was even remotely capable of keeping up. And again, the crab was learning. Each slash brought it closer and closer to landing a hit, to delivering the fatal blow that would leave her split right down the middle. And it was doing it methodically, calmly, without any concern for its victory or well being.


    It wasn¡¯t outright executing her, even though it could move at a speed that her eyes were unable to follow.


    It was taking its time and toying with her.


    Because it was the one in control.


    Sooner or later, she would lose. Her only chance was to think her way out, but that was a task much easier said than done. She couldn¡¯t focus. All her attention was drained by the tip of its blade.


    She didn¡¯t know what to do.


    Its raw vitality was too high. Paralyzing it with her eyes barely worked. Even at full power, the skill could only hold it for a tenth of a second; pushing it around produced a more pronounced effect for a hundredth of the cost.


    Its agility eclipsed hers. She didn¡¯t know exactly how high it was, but she was no match for it in speed.


    Their strength was roughly even, but it had weight on its side. It could push her back, even if she could otherwise match the force of its blows.


    Dexterity wasn¡¯t even worth comparing. It had a far better grasp of its weapon than she did.


    Magic was the only thing she had over it. But all her ice magic was repelled and her force magic was barely effective enough to throw its half-hearted attacks away from her vitals.


    And if the monster¡¯s composure was anything to go by, time was also not on her side. Shouldersnake was still stuck in its body. The serpent couldn¡¯t even wriggle around, courtesy of the extreme density of its cotton interior, and the quicksilver it was injecting didn¡¯t seem to be doing anything of note.


    She could practically hear the old celestial snickering at her misfortune, cackling as he watched it whittle her down.


    Another hiss escaped her throat as the urge to punch the self-proclaimed progenitor bubbled up from within.


    And it was precisely that thought that finally led her to a solution.


    The leather that made up her armour crept down the length of her arm. As she recalled the sensation of her body being torn apart, the material began to change, transforming from a thick layer of hide to a rusty chunk of iron. A gauntlet, or at least something that vaguely seemed to resemble one.


    Switching her imaginary serpent to rocket fuel, she dropped her mace and used the rusty metal glove to meet the crab¡¯s blade. The stunt nearly cost the lyrkress her head. The sabre¡¯s edge cleaved straight through the side of her neck, destroying a third of it in a single swift motion.


    It was painful. But she hardly cared. Her eyes were locked onto the sparks that had flown the moment the two iron pieces collided. They only lasted an instant. More than long enough.


    Coating her gauntlet in rocket fuel, she pulled the transient flames towards the palm of her hand and drove her fist towards its broken jaw.


    It tried to escape, but she grabbed one of the spears in its chest with her tail and locked it in place, just long enough to land a fiery blow on its open wound.


    Claire was unharmed by the heat, her resistance offering perfect protection.


    But the crab was not so lucky.


    Because cotton was flammable.


    Just like the rocket fuel pooled in its chest.


    A tenth of a second was all it took for the monster to burst into a ball of raging flame.


    Its shell rapidly changed from blue to red as its flesh was seared away.


    But it remained perfectly calm.


    Raising its weapon, it took its usual stance and immediately resumed its assault. Armed with nothing but a gauntlet, Claire found it almost impossible to defend against the monster¡¯s attacks. She didn¡¯t have the range. The blade was so long that it would reach her, even if she managed to parry. She would have been able to put up more of a fight with her mace, but she didn¡¯t have the time to pick it up.


    The monster had accelerated, often throwing attacks that she could barely perceive. Shouldersnake¡¯s newfound freedom was the only reason she didn¡¯t suddenly find her head missing from her shoulders.


    But even with a dozen deep cuts scattered all over her body, the halfbreed remained confident in her victory. The crustacean would have been able to kill her with ease if it went all out from the start. But it had done too little too late.


    It was losing its vigour.


    Each of its swings was slower and weaker than the last.


    And with that reduction in force came a sudden loss in ability. Its blade was too dull to cut; its raw power was the only reason it was ever able to saw through her flesh.


    Lashing out with her tail, Claire cleaved its flaming carcass in two and claimed a desperate, hard-earned win.

 Chapter 87 - The Weavers Map VII

    Chapter 87 - The Weaver''s Map VII


    Claire took a series of deep breaths as her body was pieced back together. Her wounds closed, her missing limbs grew back, and her fatigue was washed away. But she didn¡¯t want to move. For once, it wasn¡¯t because she was exhausted. In fact, it was quite the opposite. All the adrenaline flooding her system only served to deepen her focus as she listened intently to the goddess¡¯ voice.


    Log Entry 1868


    You have slain a level 117 Llystletein Cotton Crab Buccaneer.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 7 points of agility


    - 13 points of dexterity


    - 3 points of strength


    - 52 (26x2) points of vitality


    - 19 points of wisdom


    Seeing the monster¡¯s ridiculous level and the even more ridiculous reward that came with its death put a smile on her face. She almost couldn¡¯t believe that she had managed to defeat it. Her hands were still shaking from all the excitement.


    Log Entry 1869


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Frostblight Lyrkress, has reached level 56.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Bloodthief, has reached level 60.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Force Mage, has reached level 50 and qualified for evolution.


    You have been awarded the following bonuses for reaching Llystletein Bloodthief¡¯s 10th milestone.


    - 50 points of agility


    - 50 points of vitality


    You have been awarded the following bonuses for reaching Llystletein Force Mage¡¯s final milestone.


    - 40 points of spirit


    - 60 points of wisdom


    You have gained 60 ability points.


    Finally.


    Log Entry 1870


    Assassinate has reached level 13.


    Log Entry 1871


    Club Mastery has reached level 15.


    Log Entry 1872


    Digging has reached level 12.


    Raising a brow, Claire found herself staring at the digging entry for a little longer than any of the others. She wasn¡¯t sure exactly how it had leveled up, but she was suspecting it had something to do with Shouldersnake¡¯s predicament.


    Log Entry 1873


    Envenom has reached level 14.


    Log Entry 1874


    Force Manipulation has reached level 20.


    Log Entry 1875


    Ice Manipulation has reached level 8.


    Log Entry 1876


    Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts has reached level 10.


    That skill is making me think that I should spend at least some of my points on dexterity.


    Log Entry 1877


    Lyrkrian Shapeshifting has reached level 9.


    Log Entry 1878


    Makeshift Weapon Mastery has reached level 20.


    Log Entry 1879


    Spear Mastery has reached level 6.


    Log Entry 1880


    Thermodynamic Regulation has reached level 6.


    Log Entry 1881


    You have unlocked the following Llystletein Force Mage evolutions:


    - Flatulent Librarian


    - Llystletein Phantom Mage


    - Llystletein Spirit Sorcerer


    - Llystletein Vector Mage


    There they are. This is what all that fighting was for.


    Taking a deep breath, she skimmed through the librarian entry before carefully examining all the others in turn. Even at a glance, she knew that the class wasn¡¯t worth her time. Like its incontinent variant, it featured a loss in combat prowess, and that alone was enough to remove it from her purview.


    Llystletein Phantom Mage


    A phantom mage is a caster without a presence, a stealthy sorcerer that uses nigh undetectable magic to compensate for a lack of meaningful relations. Though incapable of bonding with anything more intelligent than the average rock, these perverted but impotent witches and wizards specialise in peeping on others and eliminating their foes with precise, methodical force-based attacks from afar. This class¡¯ Llystletein variant is highly adept at magically applying the sleight of hand and specialises in switching between spirit guardians at a moment¡¯s notice. Degenerates capable of enjoying the act of voyeurism benefit most from selecting this class.


    Becoming a Llystletein Phantom Mage triples all Phantom Mage-based ability score boosts and provides an immediate and significant bonus to wisdom. Every 10 Llystletein Phantom Mage levels provides an additional bonus to wisdom. Llystletein Phantom Mages will gain additional bonuses on the 100th and 150th levels.


    Possible class upgrades include Llystletein Ghosthound, Llystletein Phantom Mage II, and Lost Library¡¯s Executioner, amongst others.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Reach level 50 as a Llystletein Force Mage


    - Raise the Sneaking skill to level 10 or higher


    - Raise the Assassinate skill to level 10 or higher


    - Slay at least one higher leveled creature without incurring any damage


    This would have worked well if I picked that one assassin class, but with things how they are, it doesn¡¯t fit in with the rest of my abilities.


    ¡°Wow, you¡¯re not dead!¡±


    ¡°Be quiet.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t! I¡¯m way too excited! I ca¡ªmmmphhh!¡±


    Sylvia, who had popped out of nowhere for the nth time, had started talking about one thing or another, but the lyrkress was not in the mood to listen. She grabbed the fox¡¯s snout and held it shut until she eventually quieted down.


    Llystletein Spirit Sorcerer


    A spirit sorcerer is an involuntary celibate that endorses imaginary friendship and believes that nonfictional friends are strictly overrated. These specialists excel in the manipulation of spirits of all different types, regardless of their background, strength, or origin. Non-Llystletein variants of this class do not exist, as spirit sorcerers lean into and empower their spirit guardians¡¯ abilities. Their deep connection with the lost library¡¯s magic raises the maximum number of spirit guardians that can be summoned simultaneously from 1 to 3. This limit may be raised further, but doing so comes at the cost of inducing hormonal changes in the caster, often leading to obesity, microaggression, and pattern hair loss. This class is highly recommended for individuals that have given up on preserving their image before the public eye.


    Becoming a Llystletein Spirit Sorcerer provides an immediate bonus to spirit and wisdom. Every fifth Llystletein Spirit Sorcerer level provides an additional bonus to spirit and wisdom. Llystletein Spirit Sorcerers will gain additional bonuses on the 200th and 300th levels.


    Possible class upgrades include Llystletein Spirit Commander, Medium of the Lost Library, and Friend of the Forest, amongst others.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Possess more than one guardian spirit


    - Reach level 50 as a Llystletein Force Mage


    - Raise Force Manipulation to level 15 or higher


    - Slay at least 100 entities through the use of a guardian spirit


    - Contract at least one guardian spirit within 24 hours of acquiring the Llystletein Force Mage class


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Claire brought a hand to her face and frowned. It looked like a powerful class, but she wasn¡¯t keen on becoming anything akin to a summoner, largely in part because she doubted that she was going to be able to obtain any more guardian spirits in the near future. She didn¡¯t know where she got her first two, and the skill didn¡¯t provide her with any real knowledge of the process. Alfred was unlikely to supplement her lack of information, and given that she had never heard of force magic prior to her arrival, she doubted that there would be any resources outside the lost library.


    But at the same time, it would be more than worthwhile if she managed to fill the gaps in her knowledge. Though not universally applicable, Shouldersnake and Shoulderhorse were both already trump cards in their own rights. Being able to summon them both at once was game changing, and gaining more allies would only empower her further. But realistically, she didn¡¯t think that she could handle it. Even just one of them was already enough of a strain on her psyche on its own. She didn¡¯t want to imagine what it would be like to have them both active at the same time.


    Llystletein Vector Mage


    Vector Mage. Noun. A magic caster or otherwise learned individual that lacks a prefrontal cortex. Many consider vector mages to be mad scientists, immoral lunatics willing to stoop to no ends to perform their experiments and achieve their goals. Their utter insanity comes hand in hand with an impressive mastery over forces and the methods by which they can be applied. The Llystletein variant specialises in raw power and freedom of control. This comes at the cost of automation; Llystletein Vector Mages learn fewer spells than their standard counterparts. You are likely to find this class compatible if you find yourself too proficient at ¡°thinking outside of the box.¡±


    Becoming a Llystletein Vector Mage triples all Vector Mage-based ability score boosts and provides an immediate bonus to dexterity and wisdom. Every 10 Llystletein Vector Mage levels provides an additional bonus to all ability scores. Llystletein Vector Mages will gain additional bonuses on the 100th and 150th levels.


    Possible class upgrades include Eldritch Psionic, Llystletein Gravity Mage, and Tempest Witch, amongst others.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Reach level 50 as a Llystletein Force Mage


    - Manipulate at least two objects outside of your line of sight


    - Manipulate at least one object embedded within another living being¡¯s body


    - Use force magic to impede an entity with a class at least 100 levels above your force mage level


    I¡¯m already not getting any spells. I doubt I¡¯d even notice the drawback.


    Having read through all the options, Claire directed her attention to the fox, who looked as if she was about to explode from sheer boredom. For some odd reason, the four-legged half-elf was chasing her own tail as would some sort of madman. Not even dogs do that. Except for maybe the stupid ones.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Entertaining myself. Since you didn¡¯t want to talk to me,¡± whined Sylvia.


    The bluescale rolled her eyes. ¡°I was dealing with an evolution. And I still am.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ wait, that¡¯s gotta be your mage class, right? Don¡¯t pick vector mage.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s really good if you can get the hang of it, but it¡¯s hard to use and you don¡¯t really get that much out of it unless you get really good at it. I tried it once, and it feels like your head is gonna explode and nothing moves right anymore.¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re an idiot.¡±


    ¡°Am not! If I¡¯m an idiot, then you¡¯re even more of an idiot!¡± shouted the fox.


    Log Entry 1882


    You have become a Llystletein Vector Mage.


    Your wisdom and dexterity have been increased by 50.


    The Force Manipulation skill has been divided into Vector Manipulation and Spirit Sorcery. Your proficiency has not been affected.


    Catgirl Detector V. 0.32 has mutated into Catgirl Detector V. 0.33. The precision of your catgirl analysis has been increased.


    The log entries didn¡¯t seem very specific. She knew that she was going to have to read through the skills and spells if she wanted to get a grasp on her new powers.


    Sylvia¡¯s tail twitched. ¡°Wait¡­ you just picked it, didn¡¯t you? Even though I told you not to?¡±


    ¡°How could you tell?¡±


    ¡°Something about your mana just changed. My tail is a kinda magic detector rod thingy and it¡¯s really sensitive to that kinda stuff,¡± explained the furball.


    ¡°Is that how you knew I was done with Borrok Peak?¡±


    ¡°Nope! Errrr, I mean yup! Totally!¡±


    Rolling her eyes, the lyrkress got up and scanned her environment. For whatever reason, she wasn¡¯t being sent back to the start, even as she turned around.


    ¡°Is this chest room broken?¡±


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ kinda, I think? I forgot exactly what happens, but they¡¯re supposed to change when there are monsters near them.¡±


    ¡°It would¡¯ve been nice to know that earlier.¡±


    ¡°Sorry! It¡¯s not that I didn¡¯t want to tell you, I just forgot¡­¡±


    Ignoring Sylvia¡¯s excuses, Claire turned her eyes back on her status page and navigated a series of submenus.


    Vector Manipulation - Level 20


    Triangles have three sides. Squares have four. Rectangles also have four. Pentagons have five. Remember these simple facts, and you may one day come to master the basics of force magic. That, however, is likely your limit. Vector manipulation requires a thorough understanding of trigonometry, and you are incapable of differentiating between sine and a sign.


    Box¡­ I may not like studying, but I¡¯m not stupid. I know what signs are. And sines are just whatever signs aren''t.


    Effects


    - You are capable of applying a force to any object within 80m (40m + 2m per level)


    - The maximum output of your force magic is increased by 150% (50% + 5% per level of the sum of strength, wisdom, and dexterity, expressed as a percentage.


    Spells


    - Apply Force III


    - Transfer Momentum I


    A new spell? Finally¡­


    Apply Force III


    Spend up to 100MP to apply a force to an object of your choosing.


    It took a moment for Claire to figure out the difference between Apply Force III and its previous iteration¡ªshe was no longer limited to pushing and pulling. The freshly christened vector mage didn¡¯t quite understand how the upgrade worked, so she immediately tested it on a nearby pebble. The usual functionality was unchanged, but she found that it was possible to increase the amount of power behind each action. It was hard to tell exactly how much more there was, but it was by no means a negligible difference. The tiny rock¡¯s top speed was at least twice its previous.


    Moving things up and down and from left to right was also surprisingly intuitive. As usual, she found that she had to direct her target with her hands, but that wasn¡¯t a problem. Or at least that was what she thought until she realised that the magic was a lot more sensitive than it had been before. Accidentally moving her hand to the side would alter the trajectory of whatever object she was in the midst of pushing. Focusing harder allowed her to mitigate the effect, to an extent, but she wasn¡¯t able to eliminate it no matter how hard she tried.


    ¡°Wow, you¡¯re a lot better at that than I thought you¡¯d be,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I thought you¡¯d be a total mess, but it actually looks like you¡¯re mostly fine. I couldn¡¯t get anything to fly right when I tried it.¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re an idiot.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not true at all! You¡¯re just weird!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m perfectly normal.¡±


    ¡°No you¡¯re not! You murder everything you see!¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°Normal.¡±


    Transfer Momentum I


    Losslessly transfer all forces from one object to another. Can only be activated when the targets are in physical contact.


    The first thing Claire did was try the spell on herself. Activating it right as the pebble touched her hand, she found that she was pushed half a step backwards. Repeating the same action without the spell confirmed that she didn¡¯t budge unless it was activated. It seemed neat, but she could only think of a few niche applications.


    Spirit Sorcery - Level 20


    Most force mages harness this ability for its battle prowess. You, on the other hand, find yourself so starved for the attention of others that you leverage it for the companionship it provides. And no, you are not ¡°normal.¡±


    Effects


    - Your spirit guardians gain an additional 40% (0% + 2% per level) of your ability scores.


    - All spirit guardians gain the ability to explode on dismissal


    Spells


    - Summon Spirit Guardian II


    - Detonate Spirit Guardian


    Now I can blow them up if they annoy me¡­ Perfect. Too bad I can¡¯t do that to the box.


    Summon Spirit Guardian II


    Expend between 1000MP and 1693MP (1000MP + 1MP per point of wisdom) to summon a spirit guardian. The guardian will be infused with all the MP in excess of 1000.


    Detonate Spirit Guardian


    Detonating a spirit guardian consumes all the MP that the guardian is infused with and deals damage in an area, based on the amount of mana expended.


    Claire didn¡¯t even blink before putting it to the test. She dismissed Shouldersnake and summoned its more annoying equine counterpart, infused with exactly one extra point of mana. It looked like it wanted to complain, but she threw it at a rock and forced it to explode before it had the chance. The resulting damage was miniscule, leaving only a tiny indent in the rock¡¯s surface.


    Repeating the experiment with 1693MP, however, yielded a completely different set of results. The resulting ear-rending explosion nearly knocked Claire unconscious. Shoulderhorse, the rock, and the sand were all vaporised in a giant ball of light blue magic. The detonation sent shockwaves through the room, knocking the chest over and blasting the lyrkress and the fox with a tsunami of grit, tall enough for it to reach the invisible ceiling.


    The walls did not escape unscathed. Though not outright destroyed, courtesy of their thickness, they were each left with a massive circular impression, a reminder of the spell that had brought a smile to its caster¡¯s lips.


    It was everything she wanted and more, an offensive spell that was worth every drop of mana she invested. And it would only continue to grow more powerful as she continued to passively gain a near excessive amount of wisdom.


    ¡°What the heck, Claire! Warn me next time! That was so loud I nearly went deaf!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Still smiling to herself, she turned her eyes to the chest, or more importantly, the item that had fallen out of it.


    It was a crude battleaxe made of stone.


    And the closest thing to a real weapon she owned.

 Chapter 88 - The Weavers Map VIII

    Chapter 88 - The Weaver''s Map VIII


    The axe was nothing special. It was really just a sharp rock strapped to another slightly longer rock. Claire could have easily made the same weapon herself if she had all the right things on hand. That, however, wasn¡¯t to say that the weapon was useless. The raw material used in its construction was superior to anything that could be found in the immediate vicinity. Unlike the porous, eroded seastones that made up most of the nearby formations, the axe¡¯s parts were solid and robust, durable enough to destroy a large piece of ice without suffering any visible damage.


    Attempting to repurpose the crab¡¯s body yielded a much poorer set of results. Cooking the monster alive had rendered it too brittle to weaponize. The legs were so fragile that their joints broke off as soon as she grabbed them, and its shell would crack whenever she gave it too hard a squeeze. Looking inside revealed the reason for the sudden lack of integrity. The crab had been turned into an empty husk; its insides were burnt to ashes. Nothing but its outermost layer remained.


    The only part that she managed to salvage was the one made of nothing but iron. The buccaneer¡¯s blade wasn¡¯t exactly in good shape, but that was hardly any news. It had been rusted, weathered, and battered to begin with. More concerning was the challenge that came as a function of its size. Being roughly her height and width, the metal slab was incredibly difficult to handle. It weighed in at about a thousand pounds, and swinging it at a reasonable speed took the combined effort of both hands and a tail. She had many doubts as to whether she would be able to effectively use it in combat, seeing as how she had to drag it across the sand to get it from place to place. But she wasn¡¯t dissuaded. It was quickly turned into an accessory that accompanied her wherever she went.


    With everything tested and out of the way, the pair resumed their exploration of the labyrinth. It didn¡¯t exactly go smoothly, but at the very least, it was less difficult than it had been the previous day. They stumbled across all different kinds of monsters. Crabs of all colours, shapes, and sizes were on the menu¡ªnot that any of them seemed even remotely edible.


    As far as combat went, they all had their quirks. The one-meter-tall yellow crabs would spin at high speeds and use their bodies like buzz saws, while their obese white-shelled counterparts sported fans for arms and magically strengthened their allies by dancing to and fro. But as varied as they were, none seemed anywhere as powerful as the blue-shelled buccaneers, of which she encountered exactly two more.


    Learning about fire, the crabs¡¯ greatest weakness, provided the rogue a method to trivialise any encounter at a moment¡¯s notice, but she refrained in the interest of playing around with her abilities. She used the crabs as live punching bags, resorting to the flame only when she was cornered and out of other options. Going through all the unnecessary effort presented a pay off in the form of a greatsword mastery skill and several levels in its axe-based equivalent. The progress was welcomed with open arms, even though she was starting to feel like her mastery collection was getting a little too far out of hand. She still had no intention of listening to Durham and focusing on a single weapon type, but she was inclined to admit that keeping track of her relative proficiency with each weapon was somewhat of a nuisance.


    Still, she went around opening as many chests as she could. A quick experiment confirmed that the boxes¡¯ contents wouldn¡¯t change even if she warped, which was to say that she could check what was inside and only lead monsters to things she thought particularly valuable. At the end of the day, she wound up with a wooden hammer, a book, a wand, and another axe. Testing the mallet led to the immediate conclusion that it was a piece of garbage. Its handle snapped in half the moment she smacked her first target, and it didn¡¯t even manage to give her a skill. Likewise, the wand was discarded just as quickly. Though smaller, it was a worse catalyst than the crabs¡¯ cannons and she didn¡¯t see a point in keeping it around. The axe replaced hers, whose blade shattered during a fight with a buccaneer, and the book was burned at the stake. She had thought it to be some sort of grimoire at first, but skimming the pages led her to discover that it was a sultry romance between a pair of star-crossed crustaceans named Shblbbhsh and Clkclkc, certainly not the type of material that held her interest.


    Sylvia had mentioned that there were meant to be a number of different monsters within the labyrinth, but the sun had set before they could find anything that didn¡¯t perfectly resemble a crab. The night itself was rather uneventful; the pair shared a simple dinner of veaber tails, set up camp, and went to bed.


    Again, the lyrkress struggled to sleep, but she was much better off than she had been the previous night. The shock that came with the foreign desire was slowly starting to fade. She was even able to make a little bit of progress, it felt like artifact manipulation was close to gaining a level, as a result of what had effectively become her nightly training.


    Day three of the Crabby Crags experience was more exciting, with the pair finally venturing into a brand new area. The dark brown, desert-like sand underfoot turned several shades paler. The shift to a whiter material was not exclusive to the floor. It was mirrored by the walls and even reflected in the monsters. There were far fewer red crabs, offset by an increase in the population of their white and black counterparts. But that was just about as much as the ecosystem changed. No matter how hard she looked, she found nothing but decapods for miles upon miles upon miles.


    It took half a day for her to finally run into something different. Turning the corner, she found herself staring down a corridor with walls covered in webs. That, in and of itself, was well within the realm of expectations. Black crabs were akin to giant spiders; their primary weapons were the cotton strands that they fired from their mouths.


    What she didn¡¯t expect was for there to be a victim.


    ¡°Woah¡­ what kind of person is that?¡± said Sylvia. For once, her voice was hushed. It had only taken two days for her to finally start whispering. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen anything like her before.¡±


    ¡°A Kryddarian,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°A what?¡±


    ¡°A giant caterpillar, just grown up.¡±


    ¡°Ohhhhh¡­¡±


    Wrapped up in the sticky cotton thread was a lone moth lady, dressed in a bodysuit, one of her country¡¯s traditional garbs. Though capable of producing silk, the Kryddarians rarely ever made any clothing from it, opting instead to weave outfits from the sap of a specific type of tree. Unlike Cadrian clothes, which were often soft and loose fitting, Kryddarian garments were a lot tighter, closely conforming to the body¡¯s lines to aid in the retention of heat. That particular property made them popular among not only the moth people, but also other cold-blooded races, like the Tal¡¯ihirians and those that hailed from the Ryllian sea.


    ¡°Is that why she¡¯s all cocooned up?¡±


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that was on purpose.¡±


    The lyrkress immediately identified the individual as an adult with two ascensions. Specifically, she was a Kryddarian Spellweaver. She had all the characteristic traits. Her body and fur were both blindingly white, corrupted only by the black, vine-like tattoos that ran from both her left arms up to her cheek. They were marks of power, latent magical runes that provided the ability to seize the spells of others and make them her own. Her wings and antennae were barely visible beneath the silk, but they appeared to be roughly the same colour as the rest of her body, tinged only a slight bit darker courtesy of the veins running through the otherwise thin material. Despite appearing frail, they were tough and leathery, pieces of natural armour as potent as a lamia¡¯s scales. Her eyes were the darkest part of her body, a pair of bright yellow pupils painted upon a canvas of pure black. Kryddarians were by no means the only people with dark sclera, but to Claire, they were the first that came to mind, courtesy of Kryddar¡¯s proximity to her homeland.


    Though the moth folk were well known for their keen senses, the spellweaver failed to notice the approaching pair. She was awake, but her eyes remained distant, staring but not seeing as she sobbed and wept.


    ¡°You think we should help her?¡± asked the fox.


    Claire paused for a moment. ¡°I don¡¯t want to.¡±


    ¡°You sure?¡±


    ¡°...Yes.¡±


    The cause of the moth girl¡¯s suffering was not immediately apparent. And frankly, Claire didn¡¯t care. As far as she was concerned, there was no mercy to be had. Kryddar¡¯s greed was the reason the blueblood had found herself stuck in the lost library to begin with.


    Seeing one of their people suffer even put a faint, dark smile on her face, a smile that remained until a series of clicks and clacks reminded her that there were still crabs about. Though Claire wanted to leave the moth for dead, recalling her mother¡¯s face led her to close her eyes, take a breath, and ready herself for combat.


    But she wasn¡¯t quick enough to act.


    One of the crabs scuttled over to the Kryddarian before the lyrkress could finish transforming her cloak. She paled as she heard the tearing of flesh, accompanied by a pained scream. For a moment, she thought that the moth was dead. But the crab stepped away, taking only the insectoid¡¯s arms. The missing limbs began regenerating immediately. The combination of a racial trait and a high vitality stat allowed them to fully reform in a matter of seconds.


    Claire¡¯s eyes widened as a second crab approached, emulated the first¡¯s behaviour, and harvested the fresh limbs, followed by a third, and then the first again. They were taking advantage of the moth¡¯s health regeneration and using her as a renewable food source. It was a common practice amongst Barbarians, but Cadria had long labelled it as cruel and forbidden it outright. Any individual, farmer or otherwise, found guilty of torturing their livestock would be arrested and deprived of their assets, lest they could prove that their straits were dire enough for the measure to be deemed an absolute necessity.


    The sight disrupted her focus and delayed the formation of her armour. She wasn¡¯t able to step out until the moth lady fell unconscious, perhaps for the better, given that Kryddar and Cadria were not on the best of terms.


    It only took her a few minutes to wipe out all the crabs. Magically flinging the axe around, she eliminated two of them from afar and killed the last by bashing it to death with the oversized cutlass. A single swing only got her about a fifth of the way through its body, but she had no trouble dodging the webs it fired and repeating the procedure until it was split in half.


    Ignoring the messages flooding her mind, she walked back over to the moth and checked on her. Claire was no doctor, but even she could tell that the spellweaver wasn¡¯t doing too well. Her body was lacking the ethereal glow typically emitted by other members of her race, and her face flushed an unnatural shade of blue. Her spiracles¡ªthe holes in her body that let her breathe¡ªwere clogged and sealed by the webs. She knew they were delicate, so she was hesitant to try her hand at clearing them out. Fortunately, Shoulderhorse made it so she didn¡¯t have to. It opened its mouth, took a deep breath, and consumed all the webs in the area.


    No longer bound, the moth started falling. Claire couldn¡¯t catch her in her arms, for fear of accidentally stabbing the girl with her shard, but Kryddarians were light enough for her to magically seize the lady¡¯s body and set her down without having to touch her.


    ¡°Do you think she¡¯s okay?¡± asked Sylvia.


    Claire shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t sure what she was supposed to do. She knew how to kill a moth, but she had no idea how she was meant to go about helping one. Identifying her breathing issue was about as far as she could go.


    ¡°Ummm¡­ Claire? What are you doing?¡± asked Sylvia, as the lyrkress picked up the moth lady¡¯s bag.


    ¡°Going through her stuff.¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t think you should steal her things just because she¡¯s unconscious.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not. I don¡¯t steal.¡±


    ¡°Then what about Grant¡¯s stuff?¡±


    ¡°That was just borrowing gone wrong.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh¡­ And what about the cloak you¡¯re wearing right now?¡±


    ¡°I got it from¡­ collecting taxes.¡±


    Averting her eyes and ignoring the fox¡¯s judging stare, Claire opened up the lady¡¯s bag. She obviously wasn¡¯t going to have anything akin to a book on Kryddarian anatomy on hand, nor would such a book have helped in the first place. The half-snake wouldn¡¯t have been able to focus on it for long enough to retain any useful information. Claire was looking for an item with a more obvious use case, perhaps something akin to a magical concoction capable of curing whatever status condition the insectoid was being afflicted with.


    Sorting through the bag, however, produced no such thing. There were a number of small blades, pens, and crab-based materials, but there didn¡¯t seem to be any pills or consumables. The only other thing she could find was a piece of parchment, bound by a dark red ribbon and stored in a bottle. Unfurling it, the rogue failed to find the notebook or diary she expected. Her eyes shot open as she scanned it once, twice, thrice, noting more relevant details each time.


    It was a map, a highly detailed sketch of Crabby Crags, featuring everything from the contents of each room to the most optimal paths between various points of interest.


    Hallways with monsters in them had relative danger ratings, which seemed to range from one skull to five. Claire couldn¡¯t tell exactly where she was, but it looked like most of the more dangerous challenges were clustered in a far corner. The traps were labeled more explicitly, with different colours representing each and a legend to aid in deciphering the code. Reading over said cipher was what really took the cake. Because it happened to list a symbol for an exit. And there were at least a dozen of them strewn throughout the maze.


    ¡°Woah¡­ that¡¯s a really good map. I didn¡¯t even know they had maps!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It might even be more detailed than mine.¡±


    ¡°Where are we right now?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you since you didn¡¯t have the map at the start.¡± The half-elf stood up on her hind legs, put her hands on her hips, and puffed out her chest.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯ll end up at the start the next time we run into a chest. Not telling me is going to do nothing but waste my time.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡±


    ¡°And the start is marked.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fine! We¡¯re right here!¡± Sylvia placed a paw on the parchment and pointed at a short hallway marked with two skulls.


    ¡°There¡¯s¡­ an exit nearby,¡± said the half-snake.


    ¡°Mhm. It¡¯s basically right around a few corners. You could probably be out of here in 10 minutes if you wanted.¡±


    ¡°Then let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°Awww¡­ already?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I want out.¡±


    ¡°But I like it here!¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m sick of it.¡± Claire hoisted the kryddarian over her shoulder and grabbed her things. ¡°Lead the way.¡±


    ¡°Bu-¡±


    ¡°No buts. We both know where it is.¡±


    ¡°Ugh¡­ fine! You win this time,¡± grumbling, the fox magically enhanced her speed and made for the nearest exit.

 Chapter 89 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs

    Chapter 89 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs


    ¡°That was fun!" Sylvia stood up on her hind legs and stretched her shoulders as she stepped out from the instanced domain. Though they took a completely different exit, they were placed exactly where they entered, within the spiked cave with a large, round boulder as its centerpiece. ¡°It¡¯s a shame we didn¡¯t end up solving the maze.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t even have to deal with the maze. You had a map,¡± said Claire, who stepped out after her.


    ¡°Yeah, but I wasn¡¯t looking at it. I thought it¡¯d be more fun if we didn¡¯t know where we were going.¡±


    The lyrkress rolled her eyes. ¡°That wasn¡¯t fun. It was frustrating.¡±


    ¡°Frustrating stuff can still be fun!¡±


    ¡°No it can¡¯t. Do you know how many times I got teleported?¡±


    ¡°Oh come on! The teleporting wasn¡¯t even that bad!¡±


    ¡°Yes it was.¡±


    Finally free from the stressful prison, Claire shook her head as she set her baggage down along the shore. In one arm, she had held the rusty metal cutlass she had torn off her most recent buccaneer kill, while the other had contained the moth lady that she had reluctantly decided to rescue. Though not literally in hand, her axe was also present. Modifying the cloak allowed her to strap it to her waist, as one would a sword.


    ¡°You¡¯re just saying that since you¡¯re bad at having fun. You wouldn¡¯t know fun even if it slapped you in the face!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not bad at having fun.¡±


    Sylvia gave the half-moose an exasperated stare. ¡°Uh huh¡­ Then why don¡¯t you like playing tag?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a children¡¯s game,¡± said Claire. She approached the water as she spoke, spearing a fish with her tail and throwing it at the fox.


    ¡°So what?¡± asked Sylvia, as she grabbed it with her paws. ¡°It¡¯s good for getting better at moving around and using skills and stuff. Who cares if it¡¯s a children¡¯s game?¡± Opening her mouth wide, she tore the fish¡¯s head off in one bite, even though it was half her size.


    ¡°I do. And you should too. Aren''t you older than me?¡± The half-horse speared another fish and brought it to her face. Investigating it with a flick of the tongue, she concluded that, while it wasn¡¯t repulsive, it also wasn¡¯t very appetising, despite what the half-elf¡¯s gusto might have otherwise suggested.


    ¡°Ummmm¡­ I think Al said you were sixteen, right?¡±


    ¡°And a half.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯m about one and a half times your age.¡±


    Claire stopped smelling the fish and turned to her travelling companion. ¡°One and a half times? Didn¡¯t you say you just came of age?¡±


    ¡°Yup! I¡¯m a Llystletein fox. We don¡¯t come of age until we¡¯re halfway to thirty.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re in your mid twenties, then that¡¯s just all the more reason you should be ashamed for playing children¡¯s games.¡±


    Turning the fish sideways, the lyrkress took a hesitant bite. Surprisingly, the scales and spines were irrelevant. Her jagged teeth crunched right through them without even the slightest bit of resistance. The taste wasn¡¯t as strange as the smell, but though she didn¡¯t dislike the snack, she also didn¡¯t find herself enjoying it.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with tag. You¡¯re just a grouch.¡±


    Claire was about to open her mouth and refute the claim, but stopped as she heard a dull groan from right behind her. Spinning around, she realised that the moth lady was starting to wake. The gears in her mind ramped up to speed as she tried to figure out how she was supposed to deal with the potential hostile, but they ground to a halt before making any meaningful progress. The only way she had ever learned to approach a Kryddarian was with a blade in hand. That was why she opted for the universal solution. Lashing out with her tail, she smacked the spellweaver in the face and put her back to sleep before she could fully regain consciousness.


    ¡°Uhhhh¡­ Claire? What was that for?¡± Sylvia blinked a few times as she looked between the victim and the assailant.


    ¡°She¡¯s Kryddarian.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that means you¡¯re supposed to hit her.¡±


    ¡°Kryddarians hate Cadrians. She¡¯d just give us trouble if she woke up.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you have to beat her up!¡± Sylvia walked over to the moth and pawed at her to see if she was still alive¡ªnot that she could tell the difference between a living moth and a dead one.


    ¡°It was the only idea I could think of.¡±


    ¡°What about¡­ you know? Tying her up?¡±


    Oops¡­ Claire averted her eyes. ¡°Too much effort.¡±


    ¡°Claire¡­¡± The fox sighed as she covered her face with her tail¡ªthe canid equivalent of a facepalm.


    Pretending not to see the gesture, the rogue got up, threw her half-eaten fish back into the water, and slung the moth over her shoulders. ¡°What¡¯s done is done. Let¡¯s go, before she wakes up again.¡±


    ¡°Where are we even gonna go?¡±


    ¡°The citadel,¡± said Claire. ¡°But only for a bit. Crabby Crags was good for experience.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right. We should probably drop her off.¡±


    ¡°And I need to speak to your father.¡±


    ¡°You wanna talk to dad? What for?¡± Sylvia furrowed her brow. ¡°You¡¯re not messing with him again, are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not. The map has a special monster marked on it. Five skulls and a crown. I want to know how strong it is.¡±


    ¡°Oh! If you¡¯re thinking about the one I¡¯m thinking about, then it¡¯s actually a lord, but I¡¯d have to look at the map to be sure.¡±


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°You can do that later.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re dropping her off later.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    Sylvia swallowed the rest of her fish. ¡°Wait¡­ are you gonna take her map?¡±


    ¡°Medical expenses are covered by the government, and the government requires funding.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know what that¡¯s supposed to mean¡­¡±


    ¡°It means I¡¯m taxing her to recoup the cost of being on ambulance duty,¡± said Claire, as she began making her way towards the closest civilization.


    ¡°I think I¡¯m starting to see why people hate taxes.¡± Muttering under her breath, the fox stepped into the water and followed in the lyrkress¡¯ footsteps.


    ____


    The switch from force manipulation to vector manipulation completely revolutionised the way Claire approached air travel. Though flying was still awkward, the control that the upgraded skill provided was a merit in nearly every circumstance. The upgrade made it possible for her to make more drastic mistakes. One small twitch could send her tumbling through the aether, but at the same time, she was also much quicker to steady herself after an error.


    Crabby Crags¡¯ limited space had prevented her from experimenting; there simply hadn¡¯t been enough room to do any of the things she had in mind. Escaping it, however, provided all the freedom she needed to loop through the air and perform all sorts of ridiculous manoeuvres. Had her passenger been awake, she surely would have found it necessary to empty the contents of her stomach, but the spellweaver was given a light smack every time she began to stir. It was a primitive solution, but not even Sylvia, who kept bringing either a paw or her tail to her face, could deny its effectiveness.


    Flying from Crabby Crags¡¯ entrance to the citadel was only supposed to have taken five-odd minutes at Claire¡¯s new top speed, but playing around with vector manipulation drastically extended the timer. At some point, the lyrkress had even wound up in a game of tag; she didn¡¯t settle down and come to a stop atop the citadel until she was nearly out of mana, half an hour or so later.


    From the usual tree, it was but a straight line to the office building that doubled as Flux¡¯s temple. After making sure that no one was watching, Claire dropped down from her hiding spot and tiptoed her way over. She snuck into the yard, set the moth down atop the doorstep, and stepped back.


    ¡°I know you''re awake.¡±


    There wasn¡¯t any response at first, but pinching the kryddarian¡¯s sensitive antennae made her squeak and jump three feet into the air. To Claire¡¯s surprise, the weaver seemed more confused than hostile. She didn¡¯t attack, opting instead to back away and look around in confusion.


    ¡°Wait, she was just pretending?¡± Sylvia¡¯s eyes were as wide as the insectoid¡¯s. ¡°I never noticed! Since when?¡±


    ¡°Since we started playing tag.¡±


    ¡°Wait¡­. Really?¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°If you knew she was just pretending, why did you keep hitting her every time she made a sound?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Claire¡­¡±


    ¡°Shut up. It was funny.¡±


    The spellweaver perked up, as if she had a comment to add, but refrained from speaking after a brief moment of hesitation.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you can just go around hitting people for no reason!¡±


    Again, the moth lady reacted. This time, she nodded in a surprisingly composed and ladylike fashion, but went unnoticed. At least by the fox. Claire was simply pretending not to see her.


    ¡°I was having fun. You said I didn¡¯t know how, so I proved my point.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t just pin this on me! It¡¯s your fault, not mine!¡±


    ¡°Well too bad.¡±


    The Kryddarian turned around and looked at the door behind her as the pair bickered. And after breathing a sigh of relief, she finally spoke up. ¡°Excuse me, might this be Beck¡¯s house?¡±


    ¡°Yup! Or at least I think it¡¯s his house? It¡¯s his office thingy,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Thank Builledracht,¡± she said, as she folded her wings in, around her body. ¡°I didn¡¯t recognize you as other people from the citadel.¡± The moth got to her feet, bent her head forwards, and made a buzzing sound by flapping her wings seven times in rapid succession. A traditional greeting, specifically one of the more friendly sort. ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯ve met. I am Lova Feldstal, Kryddarian Spellweaver, and one of the warriors in the hunting party that Fred¡¯s been tutoring lately.¡±


    Claire nearly raised a brow, but suppressed it in favour of keeping her expression neutral. ¡°You¡¯re a warrior? Not a mage?¡±


    ¡°I was before I got here.¡± Lova pursed her lips.


    ¡°Right.¡± The half-horse lowered her gaze briefly before assuming her usual poker face. ¡°I¡¯m Claire, Frostblight Lyrkress, and this is my pet.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m Sylvia Redlea¡ªwait a second! I¡¯m not your pet!¡± Sylvia gave the other halfbreed a look of disbelief as her tail went limp and slowly fell to the ground.


    ¡°You¡¯re a fuzzy, four-legged creature that follows me around. That makes you my dog.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a fox! Not a dog! And I can¡¯t be your pet because you¡¯re my pet!¡±


    ¡°Exc¡ª¡± Lova tried to join in on the conversation, but she was ignored and spoken right over.


    ¡°You¡¯re insane.¡±


    ¡°No I¡¯m not! You¡¯re a derpy weakling that needs my constant care and attention! You get lost every time I take my eyes off you! If you¡¯re not my pet, then I don¡¯t know what you are!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re derpier than I am.¡± Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°And you don¡¯t take care of me. I take care of you. I even feed you.¡±


    ¡°Excus¡ª¡± Again, she was cut off, this time, by the fox.


    ¡°I feed you too! Remember the fish? I even gave you a rabbit once!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve fed you more. All of today, yesterday, and the day before.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just becaus¡ª¡±


    ¡°No excuses,¡± said Claire, as she magically pinched Sylvia¡¯s mouth shut. It was a simple operation that required nothing but magically seizing the top half of her jaw with one hand, the bottom with the other, and clapping vertically.


    ¡°What is going on out there?¡± A fourth voice joined the conversation as the cathedral¡¯s door was pushed open. Out from the entrance stepped a face that all three people happened to recognise.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± said the moose.


    ¡°Ummm¡­ I wouldn¡¯t worry about it. We were just being silly,¡± said the elf.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Beck. Sorry for the noise,¡± said the moth.


    ¡°Lova? You made it! I thought we lost you!¡± He clapped his paws together. ¡°Thank the gods. I¡¯ve been worried sick, ever since I heard that Murtt and Grell had run away without you. What happened?¡±


    ¡°They were¡­ eating me again. These two happened to come across me while I was trapped.¡±


    Again?


    ¡°Thank you Claire, and you too, Sylvia. We were putting together a rescue mission, and you saved us a lot of time, effort, and maybe even lives.¡± The bald cat smiled at the two in turn.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome!¡± chimed Sylvia.


    You didn¡¯t even do anything.


    ¡°Does this happen often?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Of course not.¡±


    ¡°All the time.¡±


    Lova and Beckard spoke at the same time, with the girl denying the allegation and the cat confirming it. Looking between the two, the lyrkress slowly shook her head and breathed a sigh.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, Sylvia. We¡¯re leaving.¡±


    ¡°Already? You could at least stay for a meal,¡± said Beckard. ¡°It¡¯s almost dinnertime, and we¡¯ve yet to thank you for rescuing Lova. I¡¯ll even ask her friends and instructor to tag along. I¡¯m sure they¡¯d all be glad to meet you.¡±


    Claire stopped for a moment to look at him with her usual icy glare. It was a chance to integrate herself into their society, and in a relatively favourable light at that. The citadel didn¡¯t seem as hostile as she had initially suspected. If the Kryddarian, of all people, had refrained from stabbing her in the back when given the chance, then she was unlikely to be in danger so long as she didn¡¯t run into any of her father¡¯s sworn enemies. That, however, was assuming that there would actually be a good impression. And while she didn¡¯t understand why the moth didn¡¯t openly condemn her for the half-hour or so of abuse, she felt that the citadel¡¯s impression of her was likely to plummet if it ever came to light. Which it most certainly would, with the circumstances as they were.


    ¡°No thanks,¡± said Claire, as she started walking away.


    The fox looked like she had something to say, but after waving goodbye, followed her companion down the road.

 Chapter 90 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs II

    Chapter 90 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs II


    ¡°I dunno if he¡¯s gonna be home.¡± Though her words seemed to express concern, Sylvia¡¯s tail wagged with all the force of a great typhoon; it was kicking up enough wind to blow away the fallen leaves that littered the stone-paved street.


    ¡°He will be.¡±


    ¡°How are you so sure?¡±


    ¡°I just am.¡±


    The pair was walking through the residential district with hurried steps. The speed with which they carried themselves was attracting a fair number of looks, but it couldn¡¯t be helped. Claire could only hold her humanoid form for so long, and she had no choice but to assume it. Parading around with any of her other larger body plans would only garner even more attention.


    Being in a rush didn¡¯t stop her from getting a solid grasp of her surroundings. To her surprise, most of the eyes on her seemed to express curiosity over caution or concern. Despite living in an ancient ruin, a literal dungeon cut off from the rest of the world, the locals were all at ease. Most of the people out and about seemed to be attending to their homes in one way or another. Some were trimming the various plants that were growing on and around their houses, while others seemed to be focused on either redecoration or repair. The only source of contention was a tiny lizardman arguing with an equally tiny gnome over whether garden lizards or garden gnomes were the superior decoration. Old-fashioned idiots. I bet they haven¡¯t even heard of garden ducks.


    Despite the lack of conflict, the neighbourhood¡¯s demographic was not by any means monolithic. Elves, dwarves, beastkin, insectoids, humans, and tortillians all seemed to be living in relative harmony. She even saw a giant go out of his way to greet a bipedal raccoon, even though Fornestead and Zarkaahn, their homelands, had been in a royal blood feud for the past thousand years. Equally as unbelievable was the huskar gently scolding the human child¡ªanother pair of races that should have been at war.


    Retaining her humanoid form grew more difficult as she closed in on Zelos¡¯ abode. Her nonpresent tail was screaming to be released, so she shook her head clear of any stray thoughts and picked up the pace. After another nigh unbearable minute of walking, she located and stepped up to the particularly green house she had been looking for. The force mage raised a hand to knock, but Sylvia stood up on her hind legs, grabbed the knob, and twisted it open before she could. Claire was left where she was, blinking with one of her hands raised in front of her.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, he won¡¯t mind,¡± said the fox, before raising her voice. ¡°Dad! Are you home?¡±


    ¡°Is that you Sylvie? I¡¯ll be out in a second!¡±


    The shout was followed by a loud zap and an even louder explosion. A cloud of smoke rose from behind a distant bookshelf, but Claire was too preoccupied to pay it any heed. Closing the door behind her, she breathed a sigh of relief and undid her transformation¡ªall her muscles loosened at once as she was finally allowed to relax.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ Dad? Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never been better.¡± Setting down whatever he was working on, the wood elf stepped out into the open and welcomed the pair with a smile. ¡°Good afternoon, both of you.¡±


    Claire nodded in greeting as she quietly examined him. The front half of his body was covered with what seemed to be a layer of soot. His face was completely black and his outfit was damaged in more than just a few places. Though his leather breeches looked like they would be fine with a wash and a polish, his cotton tunic was far beyond the point of repair. Half the garment was charred black, burnt to a crisp with its edges still smoking.


    ¡°Sorry you had to see that,¡± he said, as he grabbed a towel off a nearby chair. ¡°I¡¯ll need a moment to clean up. Please make yourselves at home in the meantime.¡± After picking a few more things, namely clothes, the elf stepped into the building''s only other room and closed the door.


    ¡°That was¡­ unexpected,¡± said Claire, as she sat in front of the table. The pillow that she had used during her last visit was still exactly where she had left it.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it. Dad¡¯s always blowing stuff up,¡± Sylvia hopped on top of the table. ¡°He¡¯s actually a rune mage. He spends a lot of time messing with different crystals so stuff like this happens all the time.¡±


    The plants began moving around as the girls conversed. Each was presented with a cup of freshly brewed tea alongside a number of snacks, dried fish for Sylvia, and a platter of grasses, herbs, and dried meats for her less-canine companion.


    ¡°I thought rune magic needed high grade materials. The only crystals I saw were on the floor beneath the marsh. And they didn¡¯t look like they were good enough.¡±


    ¡°You know your stuff.¡± Zelos stepped out of the bathroom with his face washed and his body wreathed in a fresh set of clothes. ¡°The Green Belt is the only place you can find anything good enough.¡±


    ¡°I knew a few rune mages,¡± said Claire. ¡°Most of them never stopped complaining about gem quality.¡±


    ¡°Not without reason. Finding the right stone for a spell is rather difficult, even with access to a mine.¡±


    ¡°Blech, that¡¯s enough about runes and stuff! Let¡¯s talk about something less boring,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Are you just here to chat today?¡± asked her father.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ nope, not exactly. I think Claire wanted to ask you about something.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind,¡± said the high elf. ¡°But first, I think the two of you might be glad to know that you won¡¯t have to camp out any longer. I¡¯ve managed to get Beckard to arrange for some sleeping quarters for you. I can show you where they are later.¡±


    ¡°I dunno Dad, I kinda like camping out. Sleeping in a house will probably just make this whole trip feel a lot less special.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but you¡¯re both girls and you¡¯re all by yourselves. Not everyone that makes it to this floor is aware of the citadel¡¯s rules, and there¡¯ve been more stray high level monsters lately. Someone must have accidentally aggravated the equitaur.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine! Most people aren''t weird enough to get off to foxes, Dad.¡±


    ¡°Sylvie¡­ please. We have a guest¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay. She¡¯s my pet, so she won¡¯t tell anyone.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not your pet. You are my pet.¡±


    ¡°But you always look to me for directions and want me to take you places!¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re constantly pestering me to play with you.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make me a pet!¡± shouted Sylvia, indignantly.


    ¡°Yes it does.¡±


    ¡°No it doesn¡¯t!¡± The fox turned to the elf. ¡°Back me up here, Dad. She¡¯s more of a pet than I am, right?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯d hate to say it, Sylvie, but I don¡¯t know your friend well enough to give an opinion on her, and I can certainly see her side of the argument.¡±


    Claire smirked. ¡°Even your father agrees.¡±


    ¡°Whaah!? Dad! You traitor!¡±


    The man placed his hands on the desk, leaned back into his chair, and smiled as he closed his eyes. ¡°You can still see bits and pieces of it now, but you were even more pet-like when you were younger. You were practically a puppy. I remember the time you ju¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stop right there!¡± Sylvia catapulted off the table and stuffed her paws into her father¡¯s mouth. ¡°Say another word and I¡¯ll never talk to you again!¡±


    He removed the furry limbs and set her back down on the table, a motion that looked more practised than not. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll have to keep quiet then,¡± he said, with a smile.


    ¡°What are you doing here anyway? Didn¡¯t you say that you were gonna go see mom after you finished your research?¡±


    ¡°I did say that,¡± he said, with a frown. ¡°But I think Dixie will need a few more days to calm down.¡±


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Dad¡­¡± The half-elf gave the pure-blood a fed-up glare.


    ¡°I am planning to go sooner or later. Just¡­ not this week,¡± he said, as he stared at one of the plants on the wall.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to warp you there right now.¡±


    ¡°Wait, Sylvie! Please!¡± He placed his hands together, as if to beg, but the fox ignored him and started working on a spell.


    While most others would have seen the wood elf¡¯s situation as a dilemma, Claire saw it as an opportunity. She didn¡¯t know how important he was or where he ranked among the citadel¡¯s hierarchy, but his familiarity with Beckard and his focus on scholarly pursuits appeared to suggest that he was at least somewhat influential. Any favour owed was unlikely to remain unpaid.


    ¡°Hold on.¡± The lyrkress magically pulled the canid into her hands and pinched her cheeks.


    ¡°Claire! I¡¯m in the middle of something!¡±


    ¡°I know. Wait.¡± With another pinch, the lyrkress disrupted the fox¡¯s spell by absorbing her mana.


    ¡°Ahhhh! What the heck! What was that for?¡± Sylvia lowered her paws and turned around just to pout.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to go stab the lord of the slough in a few days. You can drag him with us when we leave. That way, you can make sure he gets home.¡±


    ¡°I dunno¡­¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°You want to challenge the lord already?¡± Having caught onto the half-snake¡¯s intentions, Zelos ignored Sylvia¡¯s remark and moved the conversation forward.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be ready soon.¡±


    ¡°Will you now?¡± The high elf raised a brow, his eyes changing colours soon after. ¡°Sixties across the board already?¡± He shook his head and leaned forward in his chair. ¡°I know your quest has a deadline, but I advise pacing yourself. There¡¯s nothing wrong with taking it slow and steady.¡±


    ¡°I am. I¡¯ve only had one or two near death encounters in the past few days.¡±


    ¡°Claire¡­ you¡¯re normally not supposed to have any of those ever,¡± said Sylvia, her tail pressed against her face.


    ¡°She¡¯s right. Every situation is meant to be approached with a solid plan.¡±


    ¡°I tried,¡± said Claire. ¡°Both times.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps some better planning is in order,¡± said the elf, with an awkward smile.


    ¡°Right? She¡¯s super reckless!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°She even engaged one of the buccaneers before she evolved her mage class!¡±


    ¡°And she won?" Zelos furrowed his brows. ¡°I suppose it isn¡¯t impossible, but it certainly doesn¡¯t seem like something anyone should be actively attempting.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t that bad,¡± said Claire. ¡°And I don¡¯t think the frog will be either.¡±


    ¡°I would strongly advise getting to level 100 before challenging it.¡±


    ¡°Trust me, Dad. There¡¯s no stopping her when she gets like this. I¡¯ve already tried!¡± The fox allowed her limbs to relax and fell flat on her stomach with her tail resting on her back. ¡°I really don¡¯t know why she¡¯s so stubborn.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not stubborn. I just know my limits,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Uh huh¡­¡±


    ¡°That reminds me¡­ the citadel¡¯s other newcomer was also ridiculously reckless,¡± said Zelos. ¡°Though he isn¡¯t as infamous.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ nothing. I wouldn¡¯t worry about it.¡± The elf refused to meet her eyes.


    ¡°Tell me,¡± hissed Claire.


    ¡°Ask Beck, if you really want to know. Or the other newcomer. I¡¯m sure he¡¯d talk.¡±


    ¡°Are you talking about the squirrel with the meat cleavers?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°That would be the one.¡±


    Claire frowned as she recalled the red-furred critter. He was by far the most annoying person she had met since she escaped the manor. That said, she had to admit that he seemed relatively proficient when it came to combat; she almost couldn¡¯t believe that he had survived the mosh pit.


    ¡°We saw him fighting a deer¡¯s whole army the other day,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°He dashed right into a huge mob all by himself.¡±


    ¡°I heard about that. Carter mentioned that he began fighting at level 30 and came out ready for ascension less than three hours later.¡±


    ¡°Wow¡­ he must be insane.¡±


    ¡°See? I¡¯m not that unreasonable,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Diving into a crowd of monsters that are anywhere from one to two times your level is very unreasonable,¡± said Zelos.


    ¡°Normal people don¡¯t fight stuff that¡¯s a higher level than them,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I don¡¯t even really know which of you is more reckless.¡±


    ¡°Him. I¡¯m not reckless,¡± said Claire. ¡°No one thinks that.¡±


    There was an awkward silence as the father-daughter pair attacked her with a barrage of blank stares. It lasted for what felt like a straight minute, their gazes remained perfectly fixed on her even as she shifted around to avoid them. The blatant accusations were so uncomfortable that she wound up averting her eyes and looking elsewhere. She knew as well as they did that she had told a bold-faced lie, but as a noble lady, or at least a former noble lady, she had her dignity to preserve.


    Log Entry 2034


    You have received a divine revelation:


    Three.


    Shut up, Box. Weird elves aren¡¯t people either.


    ¡°I can come with you as an escort if you really insist on fighting monsters that outclass you,¡± said Zelos.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that mean less experience?¡±


    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t. I¡¯ll only join in if it looks like the situation is going to get out of hand.¡± The elf picked up Sylvia and scratched her nose. ¡°That was how we used to train our soldiers, in my time. If you know how to use a sword or a spear, I¡¯ll also be able to give you a few pointers.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°What do you get out of this? It¡¯d be nothing but a waste of your time.¡±


    ¡°Consider it an added perk of befriending Sylvia,¡± he said, with a gentle smile. ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to spend some more time with her, and this seems like as good an opportunity as any.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ that kinda sounds fun, but it¡¯s also kinda weird. Normal dads don¡¯t hang out with their daughters when their friends are around!¡±


    Zelos scratched his head. ¡°Really? I always thought it was fairly typical. Elves stop minding the generation gap after they get into their late teens.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m not exactly an elf, so it¡¯ll probably take another 200 years.¡±


    ¡°The curse of the naturally long lived,¡± said Zelos. Sighing and slowly shaking his head, he turned his attention back to Claire. ¡°That reminds me¡­ now that you¡¯ve already ascended once, there¡¯s even less of a reason to rush through the leveling process. Failing a quest may seem like the end of the world right now, but it really isn¡¯t. Your lifespan is likely going to be at least double, if not triple what it was without your first ascension, and it¡¯ll only keep growing as you continue to progress. You¡¯ll be able to acquire whatever he¡¯s rewarding you eventually, so long as you keep putting in the time and effort.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± said Claire. ¡°No need to lecture me on the basics.¡±


    ¡°Sorry. I just thought you might have benefited from a bit of a reminder.¡±


    She was annoyed by his knowing smile, even though it wasn¡¯t malicious. As far as she could tell, he was speaking out of concern for her safety and well being, something her own father had never done, but that didn¡¯t mean she was going to sit tight and allow him to lecture her. Especially not when he looked like he was 10 at most.


    ¡°Not being in a rush is why Sylvia is going to take another 200 years to finish growing up.¡±


    ¡°You have a fair point there,¡± he said, with an awkward chuckle.


    ¡°No she doesn¡¯t!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Levels and ascensions are only for physical growth! They don¡¯t do anything for your mind. All that is totally outside the syste¡ªer, oops. I probably wasn¡¯t supposed to say that, but it¡¯s an open secret anyway, so whatever!¡±


    ¡°Trying to level is stressful. Stress makes you grow faster, mentally,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Uhh¡­ I don¡¯t really know if it works that way, but I guess it doesn¡¯t sound totally implausible... Why are you in such a rush anyway?¡± asked the fox.


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡±


    ¡°Then why are you so reckless?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± repeated Claire.


    ¡°You totally are! I just watched you pick a bunch of really dumb fights!¡±


    ¡°The first crab caught me off guard. That couldn¡¯t have been helped,¡± explained the lyrkress. ¡°The second group was easy since I figured out what they could do, and the buccaneer was a misstep. I thought that I would be able to teleport away if I needed to run.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s any less reckless! You should¡¯ve tested the chest with weaker monsters first.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no reason to assume that it would behave any differently if there¡¯s a monster nearby.¡±


    ¡°Yes there is! You¡¯re in a dungeon!¡±


    ¡°Sylvia has a point,¡± said Zelos. ¡°Take this from a man who¡¯s explored dozens of dungeons in his lifetime. You¡¯ll want to try out each and every scenario.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°What if they only work certain ways for specific monsters?¡±


    ¡°Uhhhh¡­¡± Sylvia was left at a loss.


    ¡°That would be why you have to put together contingency plans and the like. It doesn¡¯t devalue experimentation, as there are most likely still going to be trends,¡± explained the elf.


    ¡°I did have a contingency,¡± said Claire. ¡°Beating it to death.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s generally more of a last resort,¡± he said, with an entertained shake of the head.


    ¡°Whatever.¡± Claire got up from her seat. ¡°Let¡¯s go. You¡¯re coming, right?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll need a few minutes to gather my things and clean up the mess I just made.¡±


    ¡°Do it then.¡± The lyrkress turned back into her humanoid form and stepped out of the house for a breath of fresh air.


    ¡°Is she always like that?¡± asked Zelos.


    ¡°Oh, you wouldn¡¯t believe it!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I can still hear you,¡± came Claire¡¯s voice, from the other side of the door.


    ¡°We know!¡± said Sylvia, with a giggle.


    ¡°I wonder if she¡¯ll get along with the neighbour,¡± muttered the elf.


    ¡°You have neighbours now? I thought that people hated living near you because you keep blowing stuff up.¡±


    ¡°Just one. The newcomer moved in a few days ago, apparently doesn¡¯t mind the noi¡ª¡±


    The elf¡¯s words were cut off by the pounding of feet, followed immediately by a deafening crack. The bloodthief casually stepped back into the house a moment later, with one of her toes bent completely out of shape.


    ¡°Ummm¡­ Claire? Wh-what just happened?¡± stuttered Sylvia.


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°That couldn¡¯t have been nothing! I definitely heard something!¡±


    ¡°Okay fine. It was something. Just nothing important.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh¡­ Go on¡­¡±


    ¡°I kicked the neighbour.¡±

 Chapter 90.5 Through a Thousand Lenses

    Chapter 90.5 Through a Thousand Lenses


    Lova Feldstal stirred as a cold breeze blew through the open window. When she first opened her eyes, they were unfocused. She had to rub them for the thousand images to fuse into one. The moth lady cast an absentminded gaze around the room as she slowly sat up and tried to recall the reason behind the unfamiliar sight. The stone walls were nothing like the wooden ones she was accustomed to. It was certainly a strange change of pace, but she was too groggy to panic.


    An explanation eventually floated into the back of her mind as she continued to sit in place, half asleep. She wasn¡¯t home. Beckard had offered her one of his guest rooms, and she had accepted for the sake of ensuring that she was in good health.


    The priest had offered to take care of her while her body was still weakened. Her health regeneration had fixed her wounds, but the starvation that had come with her capture kept her from regaining all her strength. The crabs didn¡¯t exactly feed her, given that they cared little for her survival. It was certainly a traumatic experience for most, but such was life as a Kryddarian. Getting captured in a net and eaten alive was an everyday occurrence, in the woodlands that they called their home.


    Casting her gaze out the window, the moth confirmed that it was early in the night. The sun was sinking beneath the horizon and the stars were only just starting to show. Her favourite time of day, one she could only enjoy if she managed to wake early.


    Turning around, she looked to the nightstand situated on the opposite side of her bed. Atop the wooden structure was a large plate, featuring several cookies made of cotton, a cup of wine, and a short note, written in ink. With one arm lifting a treat to her mouth and two raising the note to her face, the moth girl fashioned a pair of glasses with her authority skill and positioned them right on her tiny nose. She had lost hers during the fight, and she was blind as a bat without them.


    We¡¯ll be at the tavern tonight.


    - Murtt.


    Lova smiled as she took a sip of the white wolf wine and got out of bed. She had rested for two and a half days already. The priest¡ªthe citadel¡¯s only medical professional¡ªhad yet to deem her fit for release and her status panel still had her explicitly marked as weakened, but she wasn¡¯t worried. The worst thing that could possibly be encountered within the citadel¡¯s walls was a drunk.


    Finishing the rest of her food, she stretched her shoulders, flapped her wings, and leapt out the window. Thoughts of the past few days raced through her mind as she fluttered through the air. The most terrifying part had not been her encounter with the ascended cotton crabs, but rather the supposed rescue that took place after.


    A white-bodied, white-maned centaur was the cause of her retirement, the reason she had resigned from the Kryddarian air force to begin with, some fifty years prior. Lova didn¡¯t think that the judgement had come purely as a function of her rescuer¡¯s appearance. Associating with Carter had taught her that not all centaurs, male or otherwise, were to be feared. And she knew that the girl, Claire, was not exactly a centaur. But her blank stare, the colour of her coat, and the way she so readily resorted to violence had left her quaking in her boots. Looking at her, she couldn¡¯t help but find herself reminded of the massive cervitaur that had single-handedly decimated the Feldstal county and ended her family¡¯s legacy.


    Pinching the base of her antennae, she rid herself of the thought and basked in the comfort of the evening wind. She was already upon her destination, and there was no point in wallowing in self-pity with a reunion right around the corner.


    Like Beckard¡¯s makeshift cathedral, the bar was placed within one of the few ancient structures that still stood. It was considered the city¡¯s highlight, and on a good evening, would house as much as two thirds of its population. Even at the worst of times, namely the middle of the day, there would still be a few customers hanging around it, not that they were strictly customers per se. Everyone had an authority skill; the only people who actively asked others for drinks were the ones that hadn¡¯t killed the monsters they needed to summon their personal favourites.


    Though the presence of alcohol was undeniable, the tavern was more of a hub for food than it was drink. Many of the former veterans had taken the chef class. It was one of the few that were relatively easy to unlock, but not so easy that the average individual would have acquired it accidentally. Most would experiment with the authority skill¡¯s dishes, reusing them to create items that were even more delicious.


    The lack of a currency meant that neither the chefs nor the servers were getting paid, but they were at least given preferential treatment. Anyone that went on an expedition was likely to bring back some of the things that the bar¡¯s employees had on their list, namely the monster parts they required for their hobbies and personal projects.


    Opening the wooden double door, she stepped into the massive stone building. It had likely been a sort of auditorium prior to its refurbishing, but it no longer looked like anything of the sort. There were tables and booths placed all over, with something in the range of a hundred people hanging around its interior, all of whom she knew.


    The familiar faces raised their cups and nodded at her as she passed them by. Returning each of their greetings, she eventually made her way over to the usual table.


    ¡°Lova!¡± Myrtle, or Murtt, as she preferred, spotted her almost immediately. The one meter-tall alraune leapt out of her chair, pranced over, and wrapped her vines around the moth girl¡¯s back, her limbs stretching out to accommodate the difference in their size. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re okay!¡±


    ¡°Hello, Lova.¡± Grell, the last member of their party, floated over from his seat and spoke in a deep, gurgly voice.


    Unlike the flower girl, the jellyfish man was much less touchy-feely, but not because he was unemotional. He simply didn¡¯t have much of a choice. His body was covered in stingers, and hugging someone was a surefire way to accidentally poison them. Still, he offered his respects by lowering the dome that was his upper body.


    ¡°Good evening Murtt. Hello Grell. I missed you both dearly,¡± said the Kryddarian, as she returned the plant girl¡¯s embrace. ¡°And thank you very much for visiting during the day. I appreciated the treats.¡±


    ¡°We just wanted to see how you were doing. Beck said you¡¯d be better soon enough,¡± said Myrtle.


    ¡°I am sorry we had to leave you. Your actions are likely what saved our lives,¡± said Grell.


    ¡°I was doing my job, as the party¡¯s vanguard,¡± said Lova. ¡°Please don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯m sure you would have done the same for me.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, yes. If I was not made a backline mage.¡± His lack of a face made it impossible for him to smile, but he made sure to flash his bioluminescent lights around his core.


    Their greetings out of the way, the trio made their way back towards their table, with the plant immediately summoning a glass of wine for the newcomer. Her high level Llystletein Authority skill made it so the process completed in an instant.


    ¡°Did you ever figure out why the monsters suddenly got so much stronger?¡± asked Lova.


    Myrtle shook her head. ¡°Beck¡¯s party¡¯s the only one strong enough to skew the average so drastically, and they weren¡¯t there.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps it was the group that saved you. Beck did not tell us much about them, besides their names,¡± said Grell. The man crossed all twelve of his tentacles as he floated in the space above his chair.


    ¡°One was a very strange chimera. Part snake, part horse, part human, part elemental. I can¡¯t say for certain, but my gut was telling me that she was some sort of centaur.¡± The moth crossed all four arms and leaned on the table, pressing her fur into the wood. ¡°The other was a fox.¡±


    ¡°Maybe that was it then.¡± The jellyfish let out a low hum. ¡°Llystletein foxes are all high level. Eight hundred total, at least.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t be.¡± Myrtle shook her head. ¡°The one that helps me from time to time said that proctors don¡¯t scale instances. At least not automatically.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps it was manual,¡± said Grell.


    ¡°Maybe¡­ but they have no reason to try to kill us.¡±


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Then it was likely the girl,¡± said Grell.


    ¡°Maybe.¡± The moth fluttered her antennae. ¡°She was¡­ terrifying.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure that isn¡¯t just your fear of centaurs kicking in?¡± The plant placed a root on the table and shaped it like a horse. ¡°With how much they¡¯ve hurt you.¡±


    ¡°It is rather ironic, considering what I believe is likely the target of your affections,¡± said the Ryllian.


    ¡°Please, Grell. I¡¯d really rather not talk about it,¡± said Lova, with an audible groan. ¡°I don¡¯t know how he hasn¡¯t noticed. I¡¯ve been giving him all the signs.¡±


    ¡°You have?¡± Myrtle¡¯s roots shrivelled. A display of shock. ¡°Like¡­ what?¡±


    ¡°I always produce extra pheromones when he looks at me,¡± she said. ¡°And I¡¯ve always lowered my antennae in his presence.¡±


    The plant girl sighed, while the jellyfish man buzzed. The same reaction, just expressed a little differently.


    ¡°As a man, I assure you that it is unlikely I would have noticed, had I been Carter,¡± said Grell.


    ¡°Really? I thought centaurs knew plenty about Kryddarian habits.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, but as your friend, I advise that you change your approach,¡± said the Ryllian.


    ¡°Centaurs flirt by waving their ears at each other. Maybe you can do the same with your antennae?¡± suggested Myrtle.


    ¡°Thank you, both of you. I¡¯ll give it a try,¡± said the moth.


    Casting her gaze across the room, she looked at the man in question. Her wings warmed as she rose from her seat and looked for a chance to speak to him.


    ___


    ¡°She¡¯s real, Eric. I¡¯ve made many mistakes before, but this isn¡¯t one of them¡±


    Carter lowered his mug on the counter as he spoke quietly to the man sitting beside him. The portly centaur¡¯s face was flushed, a surefire sign that he was far from sober.


    ¡°Put a sock in it, Chubby. We all know this goddess of yours is just another damn hallucination.¡±


    Eric, a particularly vulgar werebear and the centaur¡¯s favourite drinking buddy, chuckled as he slapped the horse-man¡¯s back.


    ¡°That can¡¯t be right. She¡¯s the only reason we managed to escape Borrok Peak. You can even ask Marleena.¡±


    ¡°I did mate, and she said she thinks that this ¡®goddess¡¯ of yours was just a person, maybe a librarian of sorts.


    Though the conversation was relatively subdued, compared to all the others going on, there were many listening in. It wasn¡¯t the first night that Carter had preached about his newfound faith, and drunk as they were, the citadel¡¯s folks were starved for entertainment. Most were on Eric¡¯s side and found joy in cynically prodding at the man¡¯s half-assed attempts at justification. Others were not as sure. Unknown deities were certainly uncommon, but not by any means unheard of. Dorr, the dwarven god of the inner flame, had been one such example.


    ¡°She couldn¡¯t have been a librarian. She wasn¡¯t a fox,¡± grumbled the plainsrunner. ¡°And you know how Marleena is. She tries her best, but she doesn¡¯t have the best judgement. Half the time, it doesn¡¯t even come close. I was there with her, and I¡¯m telling you. She¡¯s real. A goddess, in the flesh. You can even ask Zelos. He said that one of Archie¡¯s artifacts detected a divine just the other day.¡±


    ¡°Damn tard. Are ya really trusting one of them fucking artificers? Blasphemers, the lot of them.¡± Eric shook his head and lowered his mug. He was already plastered, but he figured he was still a few mugs away from letting Carter of all people convince him of anything so absurd. ¡°You know what it is? I bet that your dumb ass is probably just horny. Go fuck Meg and call it a wrap. She may be an ugly whore, but you¡¯ll at least get it out of your system.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± said Carter. ¡°That would be a sin before the goddess of ears. My allegiance is already set and I¡¯ve already pledged celibacy.¡±


    ¡°Look, dipshit. I just told you she¡¯s not real,¡± said Eric, as he emptied and refilled his mug. ¡°And half the gods are horny fucks anyway. Have you seen Vella? Bitch¡¯ll fuck any man with a spear between his legs.¡±


    ¡°Screaming no proving your point, bear.¡° Another voice entered the conversation, deeper than both the others. It was the bartender. ¡°Seen the lassie too, godly form ¡®n all, aye, or least me thinks me did.¡±


    ¡°Fuck off, Fred,¡± said Eric. ¡°You¡¯re the drunkest of us all. What you say ain¡¯t worth jack.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we listen to the man? It sounds to me like he might have something interesting to say,¡± said Carter.


    A whisper of agreement went through the crowd as more people started gathering around them. Carter was one thing. But if Frederick Jasper of all people was on board, then perhaps there was some weight to his words after all.


    ¡°Only because he¡¯s about to prove your damn point, nitwit,¡± said Eric, as he downed a shot. ¡°But whatever, fine. Go for it, Fred. Let¡¯s hear what your bitch ass got.¡±


    The goblin king smiled, his purple skin glimmering as he set down the mug he was polishing, adjusted his bowtie, and leaned over the counter. ¡°Drunk off me arse the other night, ¡®n konked meself out in the alley with me statue. Woke up when me was stepped on, pretty little lassie with silver hair and giant ears. Glowed too, pure elemental magic that. Passed out again, ¡®n next time me looked, statue was robbed.¡±


    ¡°That certainly sounds a lot like the goddess I saw,¡± said Carter. ¡°Did she have slitted eyes?¡±


    ¡°Saying for sure no possible, lad. Konked right back into me sleep, me was.¡±


    ¡°Hold the fuck on, did you just say that she stole the motherfucking statue?¡± Eric furrowed his brow.


    ¡°Robbed we were, aye.¡± The goblin nodded, his big nose hitting the counter. ¡°Missing when me woke up next mornin, ¡®n still no returned.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible! I had Zelos enchant that thing! It¡¯s hard as balls to destroy, and comes right back when someone steals it!¡±


    ¡°Carved right into ¡®er panties, aye. Chosen real smart place, that. Brought flavour to me day.¡± Fred shook his head. ¡°Gone now it is, me friend, and me no think she no comin'' back.¡±


    ¡°You see Fred?¡± Carter whinnied victoriously. ¡°There¡¯s no way she isn¡¯t a goddess, if she can take apart enchantments so easily. The same thing happened to the magical lock that the borroks used on us. She removed it in an instant.¡±


    ¡°Fucking horseshit! The hell am I supposed to jerk it to now!?¡± screamed the werebear, his fist smashing right through the counter. ¡°That fetish was the only thing that fixed my goddamn fucking ED.¡±


    ¡°Calm, mate. Will tell a secret if y¡¯can fix the counter, aye.¡±


    ¡°Right, sorry. My dumb ass lost control,¡± said Eric.


    The priest placed his hands against it and activated a spell, one that repaired the enchanted plant that functioned as their table.


    ¡°Fixed it good, y¡¯did lad.¡± Running a finger along the freshly mended wood, Fred nodded and leaned forward to speak in a whisper. ¡°Earning levels strengthens it. Grow enough, and me thinks you¡¯ll hallucinate ¡¯bout ¡®em all day. Get there, ¡®n imagining¡¯s enough for me.¡±


    ¡°Are you really all still stuck on catgirls?¡± A fourth voice joined the conversation with a chuckle as it moved through the crowd and sat down in an empty stool by the bar.


    Turning to it, Carter found the boy everyone knew to be a man. Though his fair skin and lack of a tail made him appear as would a typical Greenwood or Bluebark, his name revealed that he was at least in some way related to the night elves of the Redleaf forest. Perhaps a forbidden union - though no one dared to ask. The angle of his ears suggested that he was a high elf, and there were hardly any willing to risk angering one of the few that stood above level 500.


    ¡°Arrived finally, Zelos?¡± Fred summoned a mug of equitaur blood and slid it to the newcomer. ¡°Expected see you three bloody hours ago, me did.¡±


    The elf smiled. ¡°I was entertaining my daughter and her friend.¡± Swishing his drink around in his hands, he slowly raised it to his face and took a sip. ¡°More importantly, the rest of you need to correct your fetishes. Minigirls are far more attractive than catgirls.¡±


    ¡°Centaur ears are by far the most attractive,¡± said Carter.


    ¡°Well¡­ I do understand where you¡¯re coming from.¡± Zelos pursed his lips. ¡°Much more of an impact than I expected.¡±


    If the reddened tips of his ears were any indication, the man was clearly already drunk. Just like everyone else.


    ¡°Oh, fuck me. Not you too,¡± said Eric. He immediately downed his cup, refilled it, and emptied it again. ¡°If even Zelos has bought into this shit, then I guess you fuckers are right. She really does exist.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about? I didn¡¯t catch all of it, just the ears part.¡± Zelos furrowed his brows.


    ¡°A girl. Beautiful ears, magical glow, and blue-white scales. Any of those things ring any bells, friend?¡± asked Carter.


    ¡°Ahh¡­ her. Yes, I¡¯m fairly certain I know exactly who you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Carter leaned forward, nearly getting in the other man¡¯s face. ¡°So you¡¯ve seen her?¡±


    ¡°A few times now.¡±


    ¡°I knew it!¡±


    The centaur jumped out of his seat and raised his arms overhead. His drink spilled from his cup and splashed all over his head, but he hardly cared. And neither did the crowd. Much of it had already joined him in his toast, convinced by the words the high elf had spoken. Zelos was one of the citadel¡¯s longtime residents. His word was as good as any.


    ¡°Knew it, we did! Drink now, good for celebration,¡± said Fred, with a grin.


    ¡°The goddess of ears is real!¡± Carter brought his drink to his mouth and downed it in a single gulp. ¡°I wasn¡¯t hallucinating!¡±


    ¡°Ears?¡± Zelos laughed. ¡°If she was a goddess, recklessness would be more apt.¡±


    ¡°Recklessness¡­ ears¡­ yes, yes, I like it!¡± The plainsrunner¡¯s face was beet red. In part because his imagination was running wild.


    ¡°Ah, fuck it! Count me in, ya nitwits. To the goddess of ears and recklessness.¡± Eric raised his cup as far as it would go before bringing it to his lips and drinking every last drop. He was too plastered to care about its cherrywood flavour, nor the words leaving his mouth. All that mattered was that he was having a good time.


    Little by little, cheers of approval spread throughout the drunken crowd. If Eric had accepted Carter¡¯s claim, and two of the four Relic Weavers were in accord, then they saw no reason to refuse. Only the most stubborn continued to stand in opposition¡ªnot that they mattered.


    The majority had already decided that the goddess of ears and recklessness was real.


    And that was exactly how faith worked.

 Chapter 91 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs III

    Chapter 91 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs III


    Claire spent the next two and a half days circling between Crabby Crags and the citadel, the latter only at Zelos¡¯ insistence. All the nonstop fighting netted her roughly ten levels in each class. She would have liked more, but her growth rate fell off drastically the moment her first class hit level 70. Not even the buccaneers, the toughest monsters in the instanced domain, were enough of a threat to provide any significant growth.


    Contrary to the elf¡¯s expectations, his presence was unnecessary. Claire was entirely self-sufficient and actively dissuaded him from intervening, even when he thought that it would be best to step in. Still, he stayed the full two days, often playing cards and other random games with Sylvia while Claire explored the labyrinth on her own. His lack of participation appeared to suggest that he was outright useless, but the man had proven his worth by teaching her to use a sword. His instruction had single-handedly bolstered both sword and greatsword mastery to level ten. That, however, was as far as he could take it, lest she wished to pick up on his particular school of swordplay. A blademaster or administrative class was required to provide any further general instruction, both of which were nothing if not uncommon.


    Active combatants rarely ever took administrative classes for fear of lowering their efficacy, whereas blademaster classes were simply hard to come by. Becoming one with the sword was said to require the study of a dozen different schools of thought, a task much easier said than done. Adhering to a specific school¡¯s principles was likely to induce mutation in any relevant skills, which in turn rendered it difficult if not impossible to abide by another school¡¯s teachings. Zelos was no exception to the rule, his own sword mastery skill long evolving into a derivative named ¡°willow in the western wind.¡± It would have been possible for him to impart the style on her had she chosen to follow his path, but Claire had decided against it. The traditional elven style focused almost exclusively on footwork and counter attacks. And more importantly, the learning process would apparently have taken weeks, weeks she didn¡¯t have to spare.


    Though learning from Zelos had improved her swordsmanship, Claire saw no reason to rely on it. The only sword-like weapons she had readily available were giant rusted cutlasses with nothing but weight in excess. The citadel had a number of smiths capable of forging them into something more decent, but the bloodthief couldn¡¯t be bothered to seek them. She had no idea what kind of weapon she wanted and lugging around a bag full of everything wasn¡¯t exactly practical. She much preferred salvaging random monster parts. Picking up whatever she could provided the opportunity to refresh her equipment after every kill¡ªthough it didn¡¯t always go according to plan.


    The third day¡¯s final victim was one such example. The buccaneer was too battered to wield its cutlass; her ice magic had fractured its blade after a long series of clashes. Tired, but not quite exhausted, she breathed an annoyed sigh, collapsed the corpse¡¯s face with a kick, and returned to the pair sitting atop a nearby rock.


    ¡°It¡¯s dead.¡±


    ¡°Good job. That¡¯s the first you¡¯ve killed without any fire,¡± said the elf.


    ¡°And the last one I¡¯m going to kill. At least in here,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Huh? You want to leave already? We haven¡¯t even been here that long,¡± said Sylvia.


    She nodded. ¡°The experience is slowing down.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve gained¡­ six levels between all your classes. I would actually say that¡¯s quite decent,¡± said Zelos, as he did the usual with his eye.


    ¡°I gained three or four times as many yesterday.¡±


    ¡°Aren''t you going to fight the boss thingy?¡± Sylvia hopped on her head as she spoke. ¡°I¡¯ve been expecting you to run straight at it since yesterday.¡±


    Claire paused for a moment, bringing a hand to her chin. Zelos had already taken a quick peek at the monster and confirmed that it was over level 150. Apparently, it had three additional classes, each perfectly chosen to enhance its combat prowess.


    Though certainly formidable, the creature¡¯s form left much to be desired. To both Claire¡¯s amusement and annoyance, the lord of the maze was not a crab. In fact, it wasn¡¯t even a crustacean. The neon pink danger noodle was an eel, a glowing sea tube with a bright magical aura. Trees grew from everything it touched. Even the rocks that lined its arena were filled with roots and branches aplenty.


    ¡°I¡¯m not fighting it,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Aww, why not?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m not reckless.¡±


    Sylvia narrowed her eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t have to hold back just to prove a point, you know?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± said Claire, with a perfectly neutral expression.


    ¡°Now, now girls. That¡¯s enough arguing. Why don¡¯t we head back to the citadel?¡± said Zelos.


    The lyrkress glared at him. ¡°This is barely an argument. You¡¯ve started way more.¡±


    ¡°Those weren¡¯t arguments. I was giving you advice because your plans weren¡¯t thorough enough.¡±


    ¡°Yes they were.¡± Claire pointed at the three dead buccaneers behind her.


    He flashed an awkward smile. ¡°You¡¯ll understand one day.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Elder.¡± She smiled earnestly, raised the hems of her cloak, and curtsied.


    ¡°Excellent, I¡¯m gla¡ªdamn it, I fell for it again.¡± The elf took a glug from his flask. It was the seventh drink of the day, with each marking one of the times she had gotten him. ¡°This is really going to take some getting used to.¡±


    ¡°I know right! I¡¯ve been hanging around her for like a week and a half, and she still catches me off guard sometimes,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Good.¡± Ripping off the crabs¡¯ legs and slotting them into her belts, Claire consulted her map and made for the nearest exit. ¡°Now let¡¯s go.¡±


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ___


    Though Sylvia had claimed that her father was a competent cook, their meals went about as terribly as usual. The dishes he made were incredibly basic, with none of the flair that Claire was used to seeing atop her dinner plate. Despite her open criticism, the elf was not insulted. He seemed to take her distaste as a challenge. Each subsequent dish came with a swing in the overall direction, often influenced by her most recent criticisms.


    That said, it wasn¡¯t as if he was pulling out dish after dish in an attempt to please her. He was simply trying something different each time he prepared a meal, and he always seemed to stick to a sort of routine. Breakfast was always a variety of salads, lunch, a series of sandwiches, and dinner, a finer meal with much more work and preparation.


    The third night''s dinner had taken the better part of two hours to prepare. He had hidden behind a soundproofed barrier of branches to ensure that whatever he made would remain a surprise. And a surprise it certainly was.


    When the elf finally stepped back out of his makeshift secret base, Claire found herself staring at the most ridiculous dish she had ever considered eating. In a word, it was a tree, a miniature conifer with all its branches and leaves still intact. The colours, namely the ridiculously vibrant greens and the excessively darkened browns, made it clear that the plant had gone through some sort of cooking process, as did the thick mulberry-coloured sauce sitting at the bottom of the plate.


    ¡°I¡¯m confident this will impress you,¡± said Zelos. He set the dish down on the table and cut a piece for each of the three present. His knife melted right through the wood, as if it were made of butter.


    ¡°It smells pretty good! What is it?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°It¡¯s called a gneskst.¡± Zelos smiled as he cut a small piece off the wood and raised it for the girls to see. ¡°It¡¯s a traditional dish, wood elf ancestry. Your grandmother made it all the time, and I¡¯m sure it¡¯s one of the most delicious things you¡¯ll ever eat.¡±


    ¡°It is?¡± Ignoring her silverware, Sylvia shoved her face into her bowl and bit right through the trunk. ¡°It¡¯s really soft and tasty! I can¡¯t believe this is a tree!¡±


    Claire was skeptical, but the elf¡¯s stare prompted her to give it a try. Fork and knife in hand, she gracefully cut off a small piece off the end and brought it to her lips. The mouthfeel was as Sylvia described, soft and fluffy, akin to a pastry despite the organic aesthetic.


    ¡°Too bland,¡± said the lyrkress. Its flavour profile wasn¡¯t bad per se, but it wasn¡¯t anywhere near complex or refined enough to satisfy her palate.


    ¡°Really? I think it¡¯s super tasty,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯s really mellow and nice.¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll have to get back to the drawing board¡­¡± Zelos scratched the back of his head. ¡°I¡¯ll try some of the Green Belt¡¯s spices next time.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it just has to be cooked a certain way,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Claire.


    Though the dish failed to spark any enthusiasm, the meal continued as would any other, with members of the group taking turns recounting tales of days long past. Claire told them of her mischievous streak and relayed all the pranks she played on her closest acquaintances, while Zelos and Sylvia respectively listed and criticised the elf¡¯s supposed epic adventures. Sylvia didn¡¯t quite seem to believe him, but Claire was at least willing to lend an ear, seeing as how the man was over level five hundred.


    The group split up after dinner, with the elf heading off to a bar to join a few of his friends and the halfbreeds returning to the camp they set up along the beach. Zelos had tried inviting the pair to come with him, as he did both the previous nights, but both girls refused. Sylvia wasn¡¯t a fan of alcoholic beverages and Claire wanted to stay incognito¡ªnot that she managed to escape all her interpersonal obligations. Returning to camp meant interacting with a group of manatees.


    The first one she met happened to swim by their camp the night they escaped Crabby Crags. And after learning how nice it felt to sit by the fire, the not-cow decided to call all its friends and effectively take over the encampment. Every evening since, sea cows would gather around their location, laze around, and play to their hearts¡¯ content. The final activity in the list was one that the lyrkress enabled. The balls of ice she made as practice were used in their games, thrown from one creature to another as they flopped around the beach.


    ¡°Not going to join them today?¡± asked Claire, as she dragged a fresh palm tree into the fire pit.


    The fox was sitting on a dried out log with all her limbs tucked comfortably underneath her. It was a bit of an unexpected sight, given that she had spent the previous two nights playing with her newfound submarine friends.


    ¡°I¡¯m a bit too tired,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Aren''t days in the meadow longer?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I normally nap all the time, and I haven¡¯t really had a chance lately.¡±


    ¡°Lazy.¡±


    ¡°No I¡¯m not! That¡¯s just how we foxes are!¡± Sylvia¡¯s tail shot up.


    That just means you¡¯re all lazy. Claire refrained from voicing the thought and returned to practising her magic. The balls that the sea cows played with were quick to crack and shatter, in part because they were melted by the warm seawater, and in part because the creatures were slapping them around with their tails. She had to create a constant fresh supply to keep them entertained and they were more than willing to vocalise when they weren¡¯t.


    Though they seemed simple enough, the orb-shaped toys were a pain and a half to craft. The sea cows would annoy her if they were too heavy or not the right size; she had to hollow out their centers to make it possible for the creatures to play with them. Even more difficult was making them perfectly spherical. Even the slightest disruption in her focus would introduce a number of jagged edges and pose a risk to the cows¡¯ safety. The most familiar manatee had somehow wound up with a permanent, cross-shaped scar on his forehead as a result of one such interaction. Even though cursed wounds were the only ones that weren¡¯t supposed to fade.


    Log Entry 2317


    Achievement Unlocked - Cult Classic


    You have been denoted an object of worship. A minor religion has been started in your name.


    A notification echoed through her mind as she formed the tenth ball of the day. Having assumed that it was her fifteenth Ice Manipulation level, she ignored it until the goddess was about halfway through the description, at which point she was struck by a sudden searing pain. It lasted for only the briefest of moments, but seemed to reach every last corner of her body before concentrating itself in the shard stuck in her chest. And then, it vanished. Just as suddenly as it had appeared.


    What¡­ was that? She dropped the ice ball and moved her hand to her chest.


    Log Entry 2318


    You have acquired the divinity stat. The base value of divinity is 50, but your body lacks the necessary features to support it. Any divinity in excess of 5 will be temporarily withheld and unlocked upon further physical adaptation.


    Log Entry 2319


    The faith stat is now more difficult to acquire. Faith will no longer be accessible unless it is in excess of your total divinity.


    Log Entry 2320


    The Ice Manipulation skill has evolved into True Ice Manipulation. You have acquired a new spell and gained the ability to enhance your ice magic.


    Log Entry 2321


    The Lyrkrian Shapeshifting skill has mutated into Frostblight Lyrkrian Shapeshifting. Your body has become more malleable.


    Divinity? How?


    Thoroughly confused, Claire popped open her status and tried to determine the source of the sudden change, only to be greeted by a mountain of unspent ability points.


    ¡°I¡¯m just going to go to bed.¡±


    Mumbling to herself, she closed her eyes and turned off her brain. There were a tonne of issues to address, but as far as present Claire was concerned, that was future Claire¡¯s problem, and not-so-future Claire had nothing to do with any of it.

 Chapter 92 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs IV

    Chapter 92 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs IV


    Having decided to sleep away all her problems, Claire sat up and greeted the morning with her mind fully refreshed. For once, she managed to get through the night without experiencing any lucid dreams.


    Though she wasn¡¯t bothered by any unwanted giggles, she didn¡¯t rest for nearly as long as she had on any other day. When she opened her eyes, she found that there wasn¡¯t even a hint of the morning on the horizon. The moon was still high up in the sky and the night was dotted with stars, all perfectly visible thanks to a distinct lack of sunlight. Even Sylvia, who was often up before her, was still sound asleep. The fox had once again turned into a fairy and used her tail as both a bed and a blanket.


    She was awfully tempted to play a prank on pet-in-denial. Pinching her nose shut, suddenly dipping her in the water, and tickling her awake all seemed like perfectly valid methods of harassment. But despite entertaining a number of possibilities, the lyrkress chose not to act on any of them. She dismissed her mischievous plans, plucked the tiny elf-like sprite from her feathery mane, and set her down by the firepit. The flames themselves had long petered out, but she figured it was at least warmer than the draughty excuse for a tent that the canid had made of palm leaves.


    Stepping to the shore, she walked along the beach until the sleeping, upside down manatees were out of sight before taking another look at her status. Surely enough, she found everything she expected. Divinity was still present. It was neither a dream nor a hallucination, but rather a real acquisition she could hardly believe. She had only ever heard of a few people capable of channelling the sacred stat, with her father being one of them.


    The moose-snake had no idea how she managed to acquire it, but there was no mistaking its presence. She could feel it inside of her, occupying the same circuit as her mana. Some of the fiery fervour flowed through her body, but most remained concentrated in her shard. The ice was acting as would a repository, a battery to contain the almost foreign power that her body was otherwise incapable of handling. She could tell, from the way her circuits burned, that it was the only reason she could handle five whole units. Without the elemental power source, she suspected her upper limit would have sat at a solid two thirds of a point.


    Sensing the divine force was easy. Getting it to do her bidding, however, was not. The most she could do without any instruction was channel it as she would her mana. Knowing of arcane magic, a renowned school that focused entirely on the release of raw magical energy, led Claire to suspect that it was possible to do the same with divinity, but pulling off such a feat was beyond her. She had no idea how arcane magic worked, nor did she think she would be able to tell the difference between a regular arcane spell and one infused with a hint of divinity.


    The lyrkress was so frustrated by the lack of information that she was tempted to ask around for advice, but she wrote the idea off as soon as it surfaced. She didn¡¯t want news of the acquisition to spread, at least not before she mastered it and turned it into a worthwhile trump card.


    After a few failed attempts at firing divine energy from her fingertips, Claire gave up and looked to her boxes for hints. The stat had enhanced two of her skills, and she suspected that their freshly upgraded descriptions were likely to contain a few clues.


    True Ice Manipulation - Level 1


    Congratulations. You are now about as divine as a speck of heavenly dust. There is very little about you worth worshipping, but you have somehow managed to find yourself a group of idiots willing to advocate for your ascent to godhood nonetheless.


    Come on, Box¡­ that has nothing to do with the skill at all.


    Effects


    - You are capable of exerting a striking degree of control on the element of ice, true or otherwise.


    - The power of your ice magic is increased by 61% (50% + 11% per level) of the sum of your wisdom and spirit, expressed as a percentage.


    - You are capable of using your divinity to convert ice spells to true ice spells. Any true ice that you create will revert back into regular ice after 2.2 seconds (2 seconds + 0.2 seconds per level) per point of divinity invested, beyond the minimum cost. The minimum divinity cost is equal to the greater of 1 divinity point and 1% of the spell¡¯s mana cost.


    True ice?


    The only two things she knew about true ice were that it was supposedly indestructible and that it would apply frostblight, both excellent properties she could easily leverage in battle.


    Spells


    - Icebolt


    - Create Ice


    - Freeze Toilet


    That¡¯s new.


    Create Ice


    Spend up to 10% of your maximum MP to create ice.


    The spell was simple but effective. It provided the ability for her to do what she was already doing with icebolt, just without all the extra steps in between. Testing it, she confirmed that it provided much finer control over the object she created. The sphere she spawned was exactly as she envisioned it, even without a few minutes¡¯ worth of minor adjustments.


    Frostblight Lyrkrian Shapeshifting - Level 16


    A dearest wish is a fickle thing. Some hope for their fathers and brothers to return from the battlefield, while others pray that the gods might take notice of their overwhelmingly mediocre existences. You, on the other hand, have hoped to regain the ability to cross your arms. This wish has now been granted, courtesy of your divine spark. Perhaps it is time to regret not hoping for anything less lacklustre.


    Effects


    - You may freely adjust the extent to which different parts of your frostblight lyrkrian form are present as observable characteristics


    - 85% (10% + 5% per level) of your body can be transformed a second


    - Maintaining a transformation consumes less stamina.


    Crossing my arms? Wait¡­ Closing her eyes and focusing on the skill, she discovered that her mental levers had increased from two to three, with the newest addition pertaining to the shard.


    A small grin crossed her face as she confirmed its function. Thinking about the catalyst buried in her chest was enough to get it to vanish. The hole it left behind was immediately filled with flesh and restored to the pristine state it was in prior to the corruptor¡¯s last ditch attempt on her life.


    ¡°Very useful,¡± she muttered, as she crossed her arms for the first time in a week.


    After a moment or two of gloating, she returned the limbs to her side and grew the shard back out to its usual length. From there, she tried enlarging it, but it resisted the command and refused to change until she called upon her divinity. Consuming two of her five points, she doubled its length and transformed it into a disproportionately large wedge. Focusing on it again allowed her to tweak its shape with surprising ease. Turning it into a third hand was as simple and straightforward as turning her rear flippers into another set of legs. And it didn¡¯t even cost her any extra divinity.


    Actively using the skill allowed her to manipulate the hand, but never did it become quite as malleable as any other part of her body. Ordering it around was clunky and convoluted. It felt like she had to go through a dozen extra steps just to get it to perform a few simple motions. Even clumsily clenching and unclenching the frozen fist took far too many different instructions. She could easily think of a near countless number of applications, but shelved her experiments in favour of staring down the hundreds of ability points she had sitting around.


    A brief consultation with Zelos had taught her that withholding her points had not been as much of an error as she had assumed. If she didn¡¯t need the immediate boost to her raw stats, then keeping them around would allow her to artificially raise the difficulty of each challenge, thereby increasing both its risk and reward. Or at least that was the theory. Claire was under the vague impression that Durham had provided a similar explanation at some point or another, but she had never cared enough about his opinion to fully retain most of the information he divulged. As far as she was concerned, the guard had never been anything but a lecher undeserving of her respect.


    She was tempted to keep withholding her points, just to speed up the leveling process as much as she could, but she had already set her mind on challenging the lord of the slough. And having heard much about it over the past few days, the halfbreed had decided that she wasn¡¯t bold enough to keep so much of her power in reserve.


    The lords¡¯ precise abilities would change over time and whenever an individual was replaced. The elf didn¡¯t have any precise information on the giant frog¡¯s current iteration, but each of its predecessors had been in control of two distinct schools of magic. Water and lightning, fire and ice, and earth and wind had all been documented by the various groups that had challenged the lords in the past. All of them were well known combinations capable of wreaking havoc in the hands of a capable caster. And capable the frogs were. One particularly crafty anuran had apparently used its illusion magic to trick its assailants into killing each other¡ªnot that it mattered to her. She had no intention of teaming up with anyone but her imaginary shoulder beasts, hence why she needed to be in top form.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Fortunately, the two and a half days she had spent hunting monsters nonstop had finally provided a solution to her dilemma. If she couldn¡¯t decide between might and magic, then she would just need to choose both and become something along the lines of a battlemage. Like her father. She had hoped to avoid following in his footsteps at first, but reflecting on the idea led her to realise that she was just being silly. Actively rejecting a viable strategy just because of his influence was no different from going out of her way to copy him.


    Claire knew that the choice would lead to a reduction in either brute force or utility, but she wasn¡¯t worried. If there was one thing she had learned about Llystletein classes, it was that they were ridiculously potent. Llystletein force mage, by itself, had already provided more utility than three or four regular classes combined. Raw power was her only real concern, and making up for a lack of it was as easy as choosing evolutions that favoured it. If even that failed, she was just going to have to rely on finding some sort of ridiculously powerful tertiary class, whenever she managed to unlock her third slot.


    With her choice in mind, the lyrkress brought agility, dexterity, and vitality to 500, their next threshold. One point was put into spirit so that she had an even number, wisdom was raised to 1000, another likely threshold, and all remaining points were dumped into strength, bringing its value to a total of 826.


    Log Entry 2322


    Vector manipulation has acquired a new spell.


    Log Entry 2323


    True ice manipulation has acquired a new spell.


    Ignoring the power suddenly welling up from within, Claire immediately popped open her menus and stared down her latest acquisitions.


    Concentrate Force


    You may charge your force spells for up to five seconds. Each second of charging increases the power of the resulting vector by 10%. The spell¡¯s cost is increased proportionally.


    Requirements


    - Possess 500 dexterity and 500 wisdom


    - Be a vector mage or an evolution thereof


    In a word, the spell was unwieldy. A quick test confirmed that she needed to hold whatever limb she wanted to use in place if she wanted to concentrate the outgoing vector. The entire process was clunky and she doubted its practicality in combat. Still, it was a welcome addition. She could already think of a few ways to use it to mess with Sylvia.


    Freezing Ray


    Consume up to 200MP to fire a beam that lasts for 1 second for each 20MP consumed. This beam inflicts freezing damage, with the damage dealt increasing exponentially with continued target exposure. The duration must be declared during the initial cast.


    Again, the ability was tested immediately. Claire aimed at a distant rock sitting atop a nearby island and fired the spell. Ice spread from the point of contact and soon encased the entire object. She cancelled the channel roughly halfway through, just to confirm the backlash that would come from a breach of contract, but found nothing particularly detrimental. The mage was blasted by a wave of what she assumed to be freezing cold air, but her resistance kept her completely unaffected.


    Aiming at another spikier rock, she infused the spell with divinity and repeated the action, freezing her target solid and cancelling it shortly after. The second attempt had a more visible effect. The hand she used to fire the beam was frozen solid, stuck in a block of ice that she had to actively manipulate to remove. Likewise, her target had also suffered heavier consequences. The ice seemed to follow a different pattern, erupting from within her target as opposed to encasing it from the outside. Wait¡­ is it¡­ bleeding?


    Log Entry 2324


    You have slain a level 42 Turpedo.


    Log Entry 2325


    True Ice Manipulation has reached level 2.


    I guess I wasn¡¯t just imagining it¡­


    Having finished testing both her spells, Claire closed her eyes and redirected her focus. Her body had changed. Power, magical energy was flooding her circuits and bubbling through her veins. Her hands felt much more nimble and her body much lighter. Jabbing at the air, she confirmed that she was much faster and more powerful than before. She was confident, certain that she could brute force her way through a buccaneer with little difficulty.


    Firing off a few icebolts endorsed the assumption that 1000 was another threshold. The trees she hit were destroyed with just a single spell each, a clear upgrade from the two or three she had previously required. Infusing her spells with divinity only further bolstered their potency. The second tree she targeted bloomed like a flower, bursting at the seams as it was ruptured by the sudden freezing of all its fluids. The true ice didn¡¯t last long enough for her to tell just how the material differed, but at a glance, it seemed more than deadly enough to justify the cost. She was tempted to find another monster and run a few quick tests, but she was out of time. The stars had vanished and the sun had started to peek its way above the horizon.


    The lyrkress breathed a bit of a sigh as she reverted her shard to its usual shape, magically transformed her silken nightgown into a casual dress, and made her way back to camp. Surely enough, Zelos was already present and accounted for, as he had been on every other morning. Nodding at him and receiving a similar greeting in turn, she sat down next to the freshly rekindled flame and silently stared into the fire. For a while, the two remained perfectly silent. He was preparing breakfast, while she kept busy by thinking about her skills and acquisitions. There was a lot to process, and a few quick tests were far from enough to cover the full extent of her checklist.


    ¡°Did you sleep well?¡±


    He finally broke the silence as he handed her a plate. It was nothing complex, just a few greens tossed together with a cheese sauce and a couple slices of fruit. There were a number of herbs and spices sprinkled on top, but they were relatively unimpactful.


    ¡°Well enough to fight.¡±


    Spending the last of her divinity, she grew out her ice shard, flattened it, and set the plate down on the makeshift table. Zelos raised a brow at the behaviour, but refrained from making any overt comments.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to ask¡­ is that Archibald¡¯s runecloak?¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Archibald. He¡¯s an old acquaintance of mine, huskar with half his body cybernetically altered.¡±


    ¡°I have no idea who you¡¯re talking about,¡± lied Claire.


    ¡°I see¡­¡± Zelos scratched the back of his head. ¡°Well¡­ I suppose that isn¡¯t much of a surprise. He mentioned that it was taken by something, most likely a borrok. If you got it off one of them, then I guess it¡¯s yours now.¡±


    Claire nodded silently and noted the explanation. It would be a good one if anyone else happened to question her.


    ¡°He¡¯s still looking for it, so I¡¯d try to keep it inconspicuous if you can.¡±


    With another nod, the halfbreed bit into an obnoxiously sour piece of fruit and forced it down her throat as she looked towards the half-fox that was only just starting to stir.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± yawned Sylvia, as she slowly sat up.


    ¡°Good morning Sylvie,¡± said Zelos, with a hum and a smile.


    ¡°Morning,¡± said Claire, without either.


    The fox glared at her after shaking her head and clearing it of any remaining weariness. ¡°Oh, come on, Claire. Do you really have to be such a downer so early in the morning?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± She smiled, faintly. ¡°I¡¯m actually quite excited.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a bold-faced lie and you know it!¡± said Sylvia.


    The lyrkress rolled her eyes. ¡°Do I really have to act the part? Fine.¡± She turned into a humanoid, hopped around, rapidly clapped her hands, and squealed. ¡°I can¡¯t wait! Today¡¯s finally the day I get to kill giant frogs and wooden dogs!¡± After holding the pose for a few seconds and leaving both the others completely speechless, she snapped right back to normal. ¡°There. Happy?¡±


    Sylvia blinked a few times before finally responding. ¡°No! That was super weird!¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± said Claire. ¡°Now hurry up and eat. It¡¯s time to go.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes. Before we leave, there¡¯s someone I would like you to meet.¡± Zelos smiled and clapped his hands.


    ¡°Was that the signal?¡± asked an obnoxiously familiar voice.


    ¡°It was,¡± nodded the elf.


    Out from behind a rock stepped one of the last people Claire had wanted to see, a large squirrel with a coat of red fur and a disagreeable smile.


    It was Mittens.


    In the flesh.


    Again.


    ___


    Claire


    Health: 4635/4635


    Mana: 11135/11135


    Divinity: 5/5


    Health Regen:1500/hour (3000/hour)


    Mana Regen: 9000/hour


    Divinity Regen: 5/hour


    Ability Scores - 0 Points Available


    - Agility: 500


    - Dexterity: 500


    - Spirit: 404


    - Strength: 826


    - Vitality: 500


    - Wisdom: 1000


    Racial Class: Frostblight Lyrkress - Level 73.94


    - Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts - Level 17.40


    - Frostblight Lyrkrian Shapeshifting - Level 16.21


    - Paralyzing Gaze - Level 11.09


    - Thermodynamic Regulation - Level 7.25


    - True Ice Manipulation - Level 2.17


    Primary Class: Llystletein Bloodthief - Level 74.12


    - Assassinate - Level 15.34


    - Bloodthief - Level 16.63


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 10.10


    - Envenom - Level 17.54


    - Manathief - Level 15.82


    - Phantom Blade - Level 14.87


    Secondary Class: Llystletein Vector Mage - Level 70.53


    - Basic Force Resistance - Level 4.73


    - Catgirl Detector V. 0.33 - Level 9.46


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 16.51


    - Spirit Sorcery - Level 24.49


    - Vector Manipulation - Level 27.37


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 3.00


    - Axe Mastery - Level 8.23


    - Club Mastery - Level 17.45


    - Cooking - Level 1.02


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 14.50


    - Dancing - Level 8.21


    - Digging - Level 13.46


    - English - Level 25


    - Greatsword Mastery - Level 10.64


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 7.83


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 22.51


    - Marish - Level 19.09


    - Sewing - Level 1.42


    - Sneaking - Level 17.19


    - Spear Mastery - Level 9.05


    - Sword Mastery - Level 10.06


    - Throwing - Level 10.68

 Chapter 93 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs V

    Chapter 93 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs V


    Seeing the squirrel prompted Claire to repeat the same set of actions that she had just a few days prior. She consumed over three thousand mana and froze him with a fully empowered paralyzing gaze before storming up to him, her hooves thundering against the sand. An icy pick was formed at the front of her foot as she drove it straight into his neck. The blade failed to pierce his fur, but the momentum carried through and sent him flying through the air. She even threw in a few casts of apply force after the impact, just to make sure she put as much distance as possible between them.


    Both Sylvia and Zelos were left completely dumbfounded. Their jaws hung wide open as they watched Mittens crash into an unlucky bird and plummet into the ocean.


    ¡°Ummmm¡­ Claire? Weren¡¯t you trying to like¡­ you know¡­ sneak around and stuff so people at the citadel didn¡¯t end up learning too much about you?¡± asked the fox. ¡°Because I¡¯m pretty sure kicking people isn¡¯t how you stay inconspicuous.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. He deserved it.¡±


    Zelos blinked a few times and took a deep breath as he lowered his gaze. ¡°That was¡­ not what I was expecting. I take it the two of you already happen to know each other?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s wronged me. Twice.¡±


    ¡°Then I suppose this isn¡¯t going to be the best time for me to tell you that I was planning for the two of you to team up.¡±


    ¡°I refuse,¡± said Claire, her voice and expression both perfectly neutral. ¡°I¡¯d rather die.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what he did, but I would at least like to mention that he¡¯s really quite reliable, despite how he may seem at times.¡± The elf looked back towards the sea. ¡°And speaking of, there he is right now.¡±


    The squirrel was running across the sea, sprinting over the water as if it were just more land. His steps were neither light nor particularly heavy; they made tiny splashes, but no major distortions. Claire couldn¡¯t tell if his ability to walk on water was a skill or simply a factor of his raw speed. Whatever the case, five seconds was all he needed to skid to a stop right in front of the elf, the fairy, and the lyrkress.


    ¡°That¡¯s the third time that¡¯s happened. At least I didn¡¯t have to run up the chains this time.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Mittens,¡± hissed the rogue. ¡°No one cares.¡±


    ¡°Mittens? My name is Ge¡ª¡±


    His attempt at speech was put to a premature end as Claire repeated her actions. Paralyzing him again, she punted him in a completely random direction before raising her hoof and washing it with a stream of stale water. Only after a bit of excessive scrubbing did she finally turn back around to face the others, as naturally as would someone that hadn¡¯t just committed an obscene act of violence.


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ Claire?" Still in fairy form, Sylvia floated over to the other halfbreed and took a seat on her shoulder. ¡°You should at least let him introduce himself. I¡¯m kinda starting to feel sorry for him.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Wow uhh¡­ you must really hate him.¡±


    Shrugging, Claire tried to paralyze the man on his way back, in hopes that he would fall into the ocean and drown, but he shook the status condition off and continued to sprint without pause. She was so annoyed that she nearly broke her poker face, but it continued to hold steady, even as she retracted her shard and crossed her arms. The lyrkress wanted to try again, but she only had a sliver of mana remaining, and if he was able to resist a fully powered glare, he was unlikely to be affected by a weaker one.


    That said, she wasn¡¯t about to give up. Running at the beach, she intercepted him as he reached the shore and once again gave him the boot. The third attack didn¡¯t propel him nearly as far, but seeing him crash into a nearby tree was enough to abate most of her annoyance.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Geoff. I didn¡¯t realise that you two were on such¡­ hostile terms.¡± Zelos smiled awkwardly as he approached the squirrel, who fell out of the palm headfirst and landed with his face in the sand.


    ¡°No worries. I know exactly what¡¯s going on, and I really don¡¯t mind.¡±


    Geoff, as the elf had called him, pushed his head out of the beachfront and shook it before picking at his ears with a finger and digging out the sand stuck inside. Glaring at him again, Claire realised that his frame had shrunk dramatically since their first encounter. He had lost roughly half his height and was now only a bit too big to be a regular, non-monstrous tree-rat. His colour was still the same bright brownish-red, but his tail seemed to carry a number of darker hues.


    ¡°You do?¡± The elf blinked.


    ¡°Yes, of course,¡± said the rodent. ¡°This is just her way of expressing affection.¡±


    Claire nearly shuddered. The thought of regarding the veaber with anything but disgust brought her to the verge of emptying the contents of her stomach.


    ¡°Well, if you don¡¯t mind, then I won¡¯t comment,¡± said Zelos, as he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.


    ¡°Ummm¡­ did you hit him in the head or something?¡± whispered Sylvia.


    ¡°I hope so.¡± Claire walked up to the squirrel and gave him a cold, condescending gaze. ¡°Leave. Now, or I¡¯ll kick you again.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be like that. I get it, you¡¯re shy, but don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll get along just fine,¡± said the squirrel.


    ¡°I hate you.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know. I totally understand.¡± He winked at her.


    The lyrkress felt another wave of disgust well up from within. She was tempted to follow through on her threat, but she didn¡¯t see a point. Even after three attacks, he was completely unharmed; assaulting him with a blade of ice had accomplished little beyond messing up his fur. If violence doesn¡¯t work, I¡¯ll just have to ignore him until he goes away.


    Zelos looked between the two of them before turning back to the squirrel and clearing his throat. ¡°How did you meet Claire, Geoff?¡±


    ¡°Claire?¡± The squirrel¡¯s tail curled itself into a question mark. ¡°Ah! That must be her name. We met in Borrok Peak, before I met Carter and Marleena.¡±


    ¡°Borrok peak¡­ I see.¡± Zelos nodded. ¡°Right, speaking of, I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve met my daughter yet. Geoff, this is Sylvie. And Sylvie, this is the citadel¡¯s newest resident, Geoffrey.¡±


    ¡°Hi Geoff, I¡¯m Sylvia Redleaf, Llystletein woodfox.¡± The fairy waved without getting up from her position atop the half-snake¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Nice to meet you,¡± he replied. After eyeing her for a moment, he neglected to return the formal greeting in favour of lowering his gaze and mumbling. ¡°She¡¯s pretty¡­ Does it mean anything for her father to have introduced us? I did already tell him about my harem plans, so maybe he¡¯s being a good neighbour and trying to set me up.¡±


    Claire flicked her tongue against the back of her teeth. She was tempted to strangle him, just to shut him up.


    ¡°Ummm¡­ hello?¡± Sylvia leapt into the air and waved a hand in front of the squirrel¡¯s face, but he failed to respond.


    ¡°This happens to be a bad habit of his,¡± said Zelos, with a strained smile.


    ¡°Uh huh¡­ well ummm¡­ that¡¯s kinda weird, but I guess I can get used to it. Claire¡¯s weird too and I¡¯m already used to her.


    ¡°I¡¯m not weird. Your standards are off,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°Yes you are!¡± Sylvia flew a circle around the accused before floating over to her father. ¡°So is Geoff supposed to be coming with us?¡±


    ¡°That was the intention, but¡­¡± The high elf directed his gaze at the half-horse.


    After a brief moment of contemplation, Claire lowered her head and pulled her cloak over her eyes. As much as it annoyed her, she owed him a favour. He had taught her to better use a blade, and she had always been taught to pay off her debts. ¡°I¡¯m kicking him every time he annoys me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s perfectly fine. I don¡¯t mind,¡± said Geoff.


    ¡°Shut up, Mittens. I wasn¡¯t talking to you.¡±


    ¡°My name is Geoff. It wasn¡¯t always, at least not before the truck, but it is now, and I¡¯m actually quite fond of it, so I¡¯d lik¡ªmmmphphhh¡±


    ¡°I said, shut up.¡± Grabbing his jaws with force magic, Claire wrenched them shut against his will before turning towards the rest of the party. ¡°Now let¡¯s go. I don¡¯t want to deal with this thing for any longer than I have to.¡±


    ¡°I suppose we might as well.¡± Taking one last concerned look at the squirrel, Zelos shook his head and started packing his things.


    ____


    Looking upon the familiar scene that was Darkwood Hollow led Zelos to heave a sigh. There were dens and treehouses everywhere, scattered alongside dozens upon dozens of sleeping mirewulves. Some were mere saplings, freshly planted with little magic infused, and others with ages ten times greater than his own. He was always happy to visit, as returning to the tiny fox town meant reuniting with his daughter and his wife. But as things stood, that was precisely the problem.


    He knew that Dixie would not be happy to see him. Through the magic of Llystletein, she was able to track his every move and follow him from afar on every occasion. She was never not watching; there was no doubt that she had seen him flush at Claire¡¯s antics. Hence his concern. She was going to be furious and he had no idea how he was supposed to appease her. It was highly unlikely that the gifts he brought would suffice.


    There were a number of foxes out and about, with most of them lazing around either in the town square, or in their favourite spots. There were only a select few that held the elf in good standing. Many still looked on him with scorn, but most had at least accepted his continued existence. It wasn¡¯t his personality that left him incompatible with the average llystletein proctor, but rather his long standing friendship with Archibald. As a general rule, they disliked artificers and their close contacts, and for good reason. They were a celestial¡¯s servants, and the creation of artifacts was an act long scorned by over half the pantheon.


    His poor reputation with the foxes was not by any means why he felt so awkward. He had known for hundreds of years that staying in contact with the huskar would lead others to reject him. It irked him to know that even his extended family disliked him, but not enough to leave him completely devoid of hope or joy. He was much more bothered by the tense, awkward atmosphere that had persisted throughout the trip.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    The elf had hoped that Claire would be able to work with Geoff, but that was obviously not going to happen. He hadn¡¯t the faintest clue as to what had happened between them, but he knew better than to pry, at least not while they were present. Sylvia would likely be able to fill him in later on.


    ¡°This is nothing like what I saw last time,¡± said Claire. The chimera scanned the townscape as she spoke, her expression and tone both completely unreadable.


    ¡°That was umm¡­ because of the um¡­ because of the steelwings,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°You do realise that I know you set that up, right?¡±


    ¡°W-wait, you d¡ªer, I mean, what are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve known since I killed the big one.¡±


    Zelos chuckled as he listened in on the conversation. A raven attack does sound like something Sylvie would come up with.


    Lifting the fairy off her head with one hand, Claire messed up her hair and scratched the back of her ears with the other. ¡°And your personality has changed since then too. Your persona was chattier. You¡¯re more sarcastic now and you get to the point faster, but you still talk too much.¡±


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s mean! So what if I like talking? There¡¯s nothing wrong with that!¡±


    The chimera shrugged, set the fox down, and directed her gaze forward instead of commenting any further. An older greying fox emerged from a bush a moment later. He was walking around on just his hind legs, with one forelimb hanging to his side and the other fiddling with the pipe he had in his mouth.


    ¡°Zelos.¡± He nodded at the elf before glancing over the group, his gaze stopping only on the squirrel. ¡°Bit of an odd gathering you have here today.¡±


    ¡°Good morning, Grant. It¡¯s nice to see you again.¡±


    ¡°You too, kid,¡± said the fox, with a playful grin. ¡°Have fun getting in trouble. You might want to hurry over before she storms across the hollow and drags you into her burrow.¡±


    ¡°Please stop using my misfortune as a means to entertain yourself,¡± he said, as he placed a hand on his face.


    The old fox snickered. ¡°You knew what you were getting into. I warned you. Twice. You¡¯re the one that insisted on putting it in crazy.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not crazy, Grant. Just¡­ overly affectionate.¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ Dad? I think you might just be in denial. Mom¡¯s totally crazy,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°What are you guys talking about? I¡¯m lost,¡± said Geoff.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t worry about it.¡± Zelos smiled awkwardly. ¡°Grant, this is Geoff.¡±


    The old smoker nodded at the rodent after inhaling a lungful of ash. ¡°Grant. Llystletein fox.¡±


    ¡°Geoffrey Hogdstoose, Llystletein cave squirrel. I¡¯d like to go by Geoff.¡±


    ¡°Cave squirrel? Now that¡¯s an interesting ascension,¡± said the silver-furred fox.


    ¡°Thank you, it was tough to get,¡± replied the nut-eater.


    ¡°I bet it was,¡± said Grant, before turning to Claire. ¡°Excellent work. I heard Dixie scream from half the village away. Very entertaining.¡± He chuckled as he recalled the event. ¡°Speaking of, there she is right now.¡±


    ¡°Zelos! You filthy cheat!¡± A tiny fairy catapulted out of a nearby tree and stabbed Zelos in the ear with an equally tiny kitchen knife. ¡°Asshole! Manwhore!¡±


    ¡°Good morning, Dixie. You look lovely today. Your tail is even fluffier than usual,¡± The elf grimaced, but did his best to refrain from reacting to her accusations. He knew better than that. His wife was a bit of a loose cannon, and accidentally saying something that could be easily misconstrued was sure to set her off.


    After goring him a good five or six times, she backed off and cast her gaze on her next target, but Grant got in front of the chimera before the tiny foxgirl could launch another attack.


    ¡°Calm down, Dixie. It was just a prank. I put her up to it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care!¡± shrieked the angry housewife.


    Zelos could feel the back of his throat run dry as he noticed the dark smile that surfaced on Grant¡¯s face.


    ¡°If there¡¯s anyone you should be mad at, it¡¯s your husband.¡±


    His suspicions confirmed, he closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. He knew exactly what the old mutt was up to.


    ¡°But she was the one that tried to seduce him!¡±


    ¡°And he was one that fell for it. It just means that he doesn¡¯t love you enough.¡±


    ¡°He what!?¡±


    It wasn¡¯t the first time Grant had used the argument, nor even the first time it had elicited the exact same reaction.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you, Zelos! After all we¡¯ve been through!¡± She grabbed him by the unbloodied ear and dragged him back home with an uncanny amount of strength. Despite her tiny frame, she was able to haul him around as easily as a cat would a mouse.


    ¡°Damn it, Alfred¡­ Why did you have to give literally every fox a mischievous streak?¡± The elf muttered under his breath. He didn¡¯t bother arguing back. He had already resigned himself to his fate.


    Suffering was simply his lot in life. He had no choice but to sit back and let it play out.


    ____


    Claire stared at the burrow with a brow raised as she listened to the event unfolding within. It consisted primarily of the woman yelling, but there were a few more interesting noises mixed in as well, such as the clanking of chains and the click of a lock. A very interesting combination to say the least, considering that the husband didn¡¯t quite seem to mind the wife¡¯s behaviour.


    Said wife emerged from the burrow a few minutes later, a bright smile plastered across her face. ¡°There. Zelos and I have resolved the misunderstanding, and he¡¯s agreed to stay at home for the next few weeks.¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t understand how you two manage to get along, with all your umm¡­ tendencies,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°What are you talking about? This is all perfectly normal. You¡¯ll understand when you finally find yourself a partner,¡± said Dixie.


    ¡°Agreed.¡± Claire nodded, calmly, as if the fox-eared fairy hadn¡¯t just threatened to stab her a few minutes prior. ¡°It¡¯s a fairly typical way of expressing affection. They say that, if you lock someone up for long enough, they¡¯ll eventually fall in love with you.¡± It was a claim that she had heard quite often around the manor, largely in part because it was Alice¡¯s favourite saying.


    ¡°There¡¯s absolutely no way that¡¯s true and you know it!¡± shouted Sylvia.


    ¡°I¡¯m with Sylvia on this one. You¡¯re ill, Dixie, incredibly so,¡± said Grant.


    Geoff cleared his throat. ¡°It¡¯s normal, especially with all the tropes she¡¯s just shown us.¡±


    ¡°I agree with the mentally deficient squirrel.¡± Claire fought back the urge to frown and took a breath before continuing. ¡°It¡¯s a common practice among Cadrian nobles.¡±


    Sylvia shuddered. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ scary. Nobles are scary.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not all bad. Some guys think it¡¯s hot,¡± said Geoff, with a confident nod. ¡°Just imagine if you were Zelos. The man looks like he¡¯s 10. There¡¯s nothing wrong with a 10 year old wanting a thicc dommy mommy.¡±


    A what?


    ¡°It should have something to do with the possessiveness that comes with her predatory instincts,¡± said Claire. Lamias frequently exhibited similar behaviour and it was more common in reputable fighters.


    Dixie took a moment to look at Claire with her face going through a number of changes. What started as a hostile scowl warped between several different equally aggressive emotions before finally settling on a look of confusion.


    ¡°You¡­ understand?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± said Claire. ¡°One of my aunts was the same way. You¡¯re perfectly normal, despite what the other foxes might be saying.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ you¡­ thank you.¡± A small smile crossed the fairy¡¯s lips. ¡°I thought you were just another one of those dumb citadel sluts at first, but I guess I must¡¯ve been wrong.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fiercely intelligent.¡±


    ¡°I can see that,¡± agreed the fairy, who extended an arm. ¡°Dixie of Darkwood Hollow, Llystletein fox. It¡¯s nice to meet you, Lady Augustus.¡±


    ¡°Former lady. I¡¯ve lost the title.¡±


    Claire returned the tiny fox girl¡¯s faint smile as she lightly shook her hand. The entire motion was a bit awkward with the relative difference in their sizes, but they made do nonetheless. It was the thought that counted, after all.


    ¡°That hardly matters. You act like a lady, and I¡¯ll be treating you like one. End of discussion.¡±


    Claire pulled up the hem of her cloak and bent her knees. ¡°Much obliged, Madam Redleaf.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s going on? I¡¯m so confused.¡± said Sylvia.


    Grant scratched the back of his head. ¡°I have no idea, cub. None at all.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s really quite simple. It¡¯s a mutual understanding between a pair of women who¡¯ve become attracted to each other. I used to read about this all the time. Wait, does that mean she¡¯s not a heroine, or do I just have to convince her that¡­¡±


    His words trailed off as he started talking to none other than himself.


    Sylvia¡¯s tail flicked back and forth. ¡°Ummm¡­ I¡¯m pretty sure that isn¡¯t right, not that you¡¯re listening anymore.¡±


    Dixie put her hands on her hips and huffed before floating up to her daughter and giving her a hug. Wordlessly, she ran her fingers through her hair and even pinched the tip of her ears before finally letting go.


    ¡°Welcome home, Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Wow, mom. Did you really put me last on the list?¡±


    ¡°Not quite.¡± She gestured at the squirrel with her chin. ¡°That would be him.¡±


    He was still lost in thought, mumbling a series of incomprehensible terms like ¡°tsundere¡± and ¡°NTR.¡± Though everyone picked up on his words, none were able to make any sense of them.


    ¡°Why, exactly, did your father bring that thing here?¡± asked the older fairy. ¡°Even Al¡¯s been telling us to stay away from it.¡±


    ¡°Dunno, he¡¯s kinda weird,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Maybe he¡¯s planning on sleeping with it,¡± said Grant.


    A bloody knife suddenly appeared in Dixie¡¯s hands, seemingly pulled out of thin air. The force that transported it from the burrow was so minimal and precise that Claire had barely noticed it; had she not seen the result herself, she would have dismissed it as a figment of her imagination.


    ¡°Do it,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t. It was a joke, Dixie. A joke,¡± said Grant.


    ¡°Right.¡± With another perfectly constructed spell, she sent the weapon away and looked back at her daughter. ¡°So you finally visited Sky Lagoon?¡±


    ¡°Yup! It was a lot more awesome than I thought! You should try going too, you wouldn¡¯t believe how different it is in person.¡±


    The mother chuckled lightly. ¡°Al says that the outside world is even more incredible.¡±


    Sylvia¡¯s enthusiasm drained. ¡°Yeah, I know, but¡­¡±


    ¡°You should go, if you ever get the chance,¡± said Dixie.


    Her daughter lowered her gaze, averted her eyes, and muttered under her breath as she played with her tail. ¡°That¡¯s not going to happen ever. Unless¡­¡±


    The red headed fairy smiled. ¡°It just might, and sooner than you think.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    Grant scoffed. ¡°Nonsense, cub. That¡¯s what it means. We¡¯re stuck here for another few hundred years at least.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been saying that exact thing for over a thousand years already, Grant. Give it a rest,¡± said Dixie. ¡°Have you had anything to eat yet, Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°Yup! Dad made us something in the morning.¡±


    ¡°One of Zelos¡¯ meals? Then I doubt you had any wild game. You should try sea cow, if you get a chance. It¡¯s good.¡±


    It is? Claire¡¯s ears twitched. She had refrained from trying the blubbery behemoths, but she had to admit that she was still curious of their taste, especially seeing as how the first one she met had apparently prided itself on its flavour. The claim did little but beg the question she had asked Sylvia when they first met. How did the potentially edible creature know its own taste? Truly, the greatest mystery of the generation.


    ¡°Wha!? You eat them? But they¡¯re so cute!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°So are rabbits, and you eat those,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Because foxes eat rabbits. That¡¯s just how it is!¡± protested the amber-eyed half-elf.


    ¡°Just give it a try, Sylvia. Your friend there is pretty eager.¡± Dixie pointed at Claire, whose expression had remained perfectly neutral.


    ¡°Huh? She is?¡±


    ¡°Of course. She¡¯s even letting it show, on purpose. Isn¡¯t that right?¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Huuuh? How?¡± blinked Sylvia.


    The squirrel crossed his arms and grinned like the cocky pest he was. ¡°With girls like her, it¡¯s a matter of experience. They¡¯re shy, but they¡¯re also incredibly loving when you get through their shells.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not shy. You¡¯re just an idiot.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going with Claire on this one,¡± said Sylvia.


    Geoff looked around for support, but both the others were also nodding in agreement, hence why he did the most obvious thing in the world and immediately sank into thought. ¡°Strange¡­ they¡¯re all teamining up on me. I was sure that I¡¯d at least have enough affection points with Sylvia since her dad was the one that introduced her to me¡­ What if¡­¡±


    A sudden idea struck as Claire watched the rodent ponder. ¡°Is there a bathroom I can use?¡±


    ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t use the bathroom,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Well I do now.¡±


    Grant pointed to an area with an unusually dense brush population. ¡°Over there.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    Grabbing the rodent by the tail, Claire walked over to the communal toilet and stopped a few feet in front of it, mainly for the purposes of sanitation. Magically grabbing the soil with her hands, she pulled it apart and dug a small hole three quarters of a squirrel deep. The idiot in question was then deposited inside, buried with only his head above the ground, and covered up with a few stray branches for good measure. Only after making sure that he was invisible from above did she return to the group.


    ¡°Don¡¯t help him out. Even if he begs.¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ okay, I guess,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I barely know him, but I¡¯m pretty sure he deserves worse,¡± said Dixie.


    ¡°Oh, definitely. You should see the recordings,¡± said Grant. ¡°He¡¯s as dumb as it gets.¡±

 Chapter 94 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs VI

    Chapter 94 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs VI


    Arms crossed and lips pursed into a frown, Claire stood before the most confusing waterfall she had ever seen. So bamboozled was the rogue that she couldn¡¯t decide if she was staring at one cliffside river or two. Both possible distinctions could be argued; the water split into two streams, one that crashed into a basin overhead, and another with its destination underfoot. In that sense, they were separate, but the pair shared the same source, a subterranean channel that flowed out from within a wall of stone.


    Despite the constant influx of fresh water, the surrounding area sported a distinct lack of life. The meadow was dead. All the grasses were withered and there wasn¡¯t a flower in sight. Likewise, the forest¡¯s flora was also deprived of its vitality. The trees had degenerated into leafless, dried husks, and the undergrowth was shrivelled up and half-eaten. Only the marsh remained fertile and viable, its sulphurous scent overpowering, even to the lyrkress¡¯ less-than-discerning tongue.


    Bugs, frogs, and crocodiles were the only creatures present, with the lattermost group composed of nothing but rotten, half-eaten corpses, wriggling with maggots.


    ¡°Why, what a wonderful sight. It¡¯s almost as beautiful as I am,¡± said Shoulderhorse.


    ¡°Can you shut up already?¡±


    ¡°Just let her have her fun, Claire. You¡¯ve been around too many people. We haven¡¯t had a chance to talk since borrok peak,¡± said Shouldersnake.


    ¡°I know. I like it better that way.¡±


    ¡°And we like it better when we get to talk,¡± replied the serpent.


    ¡°We all love it when I get to talk. My voice is so charming it could seduce a god,¡± said the horse. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you haven¡¯t tried to escape the fox. You would¡¯ve had more chances to listen to me.¡±


    ¡°Pony¡¯s complaints aside, you could have at least stepped further away so you could have consulted us about your skill points,¡± grumbled the serpent. ¡°All the points you put into strength were wasted.¡±


    ¡°No they weren¡¯t. I can wield the crabs¡¯ swords properly now.¡±


    ¡°And I could have wielded them properly without you spending any points.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°Using you to use a weapon feels weird.¡±


    ¡°Raising your dexterity would have solved that.¡±


    With a roll of the eyes, Claire waved the imaginary animals off and raised her ears overhead. The buzzing of insects and the rushing of water aside, she could hear nothing but croaks and ribbits. It was the frogs¡¯ uncontested domain, through and through, with the lyrkress the only foreign element. Even the fox was gone, as evidenced by the shoulder pair¡¯s sudden advent; Sylvia had bid her farewell as soon as the greenergy started to brown, leaving Claire with only a set of vague instructions and a quick description of her destination.


    The rogue tore her gaze from the waterfall, stepped behind a tree, and inspected her equipment one last time. At a glance, everything seemed to be in order. She had an axe and six crab legs strapped to her thighs, her mace mounted on her back, and a sheathed broken cutlass hanging off the side of her waist. She would have preferred not to violate the weapon¡¯s integrity, but she couldn¡¯t easily transport it without snapping it in half.


    Her cloak was exactly as it had been during her most recent trek through the maze. The overcoat was changed into a silken dress topped with a set of leather protectors, the interior material chosen primarily for comfort. Though the various components appeared as would different articles of clothing, they were all parts of the same whole, connected to one another through direct physical contact.


    A pair of frozen spears formed in her hands as Claire took a breath and stepped towards the basin. The ice cold air radiating off her body chilled the mud beneath her hooves, prompting her to leave a set of icy prints in her wake. Most of the frogs were upside down, hanging around the marsh, but that mattered little. They began swarming her as soon as she stepped out from the treeline. Those that were on her side of the world hopped over while the others went through the necessary extra steps. Feathered frogpoles, the winged frogs with antlers and giant tongues, flew up to attack her, while toadempoles, the llystletein variants with multiple heads, turned themselves upside down, switched sides, and proceeded as if they had never been bound by the meadow-marsh¡¯s pull.


    Killing her way through the horde was as easy as lightly waving her spears around. Every stab ended at least one life, with the occasional swing netting two or even three. But even with an anuran dying once every few seconds, their numbers only grew. A seemingly infinite supply hopped out of the woodwork. It was a horde as plentiful as the borroks¡¯, but unlike the annoying bug-monkeys, the frogs didn¡¯t exhaust her or even put any strain on her mind. They weren¡¯t organised or coordinated. The few simultaneous attacks that happened to occur were entirely coincidental. There weren¡¯t any suicidal cyclopses, willing to give up their lives to shield their allies from harm, nor any mages lobbing projectiles from a distance. The frogs were nothing but a collection of weaklings capable of little beyond mindless aggression.


    The damage that they dealt was negligible. The few that managed to strike her with their tongues failed to get past her armour, natural or otherwise. Her scales proved far too resilient for their tongues to pierce, and while her leather pads suffered the occasional rip, they always repaired themselves before they were struck again. Her exposed centaurian bits were more susceptible to damage, but she soon discovered that there was no need to be concerned with them. Not even their strongest attacks were able to leave so much as a bruise.


    After working her way through the first few waves, she decided to turn the experience into a game. Each individual was given its own unique demise. She cycled through her weapons, toyed with her spells, and experimented with whatever happened to come to mind. One frog was rammed to death and impaled on her shard, another was strangled from afar with force magic, and yet another was outright destroyed with a barrage of freezing rays. There was even a particularly unlucky individual that found itself literally ripped in half. She magically grabbed one side of its body with each hand and pulled until it finally split at the seams. The only consistency was that the anurans were put down with minimal investment. Knowing of the battle to come, Claire kept a careful eye on her resources. Her mana was not allowed to dip below ten thousand and she outright refused to use any of her divinity.


    As the battle wore on, however, she began to realise that keeping all five points in reserve was a mistake. There was roughly an hour between the first death and the last; most of her divine power would have regenerated in the time she had spent committing bloody murder, had she not outright refused to spend it.


    Looking around with a frown, she double checked to confirm that she had killed every last one of the basin¡¯s frogs, as per Sylvia¡¯s instructions. But even though everything was dead, the lord was nowhere to be found. There wasn¡¯t even the slightest hint of its presence, nor was there anywhere for her to sit down and contemplate its absence. Everything, everything, was covered in blood. The trees, the mud, and even the water were all dyed in different shades of red. There were so many corpses that it was impossible for her to take three steps without having to kick one out of the way.


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s underwater,¡± muttering the question under her breath, the frog killer stepped past the shoreline and entered the basin. She tried peeking into the murky depths as soon as she was fully submerged, but there was too much muck, grime, and blood for her to see any more than a foot in front of her.


    Stepping back out of the lake, Claire was subjected to a strange sense of malaise. The soundscape had changed, dulled. It was like everything had suddenly been turned down several levels and getting the water out of her ears didn¡¯t help. If anything, it made it worse. The insects grew quieter and quieter, just like the distant sounds she heard from the rest of the forest. Together, they vanished, giving way to the void of nothingness.


    She was left in near absolute silence. The only sound she heard was the beating of a distant pair of wings, its source a large orange butterfly. Her eyes shot towards the creature and remained focused on it as it fluttered its way to the centre of the basin. After making a few small circles, the odd insect eventually settled down. By landing on a frogpole¡¯s corpse.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    That was when everything changed.


    The ground shook and rumbled as the world was stretched apart. The meadow and the forest grew further, the distance between them expanding fivefold. Both the basin¡¯s length and width were tripled, all to make room for the frog at its centre.


    What started as just another dead anuran expanded into a towering upside down behemoth. Its body turned translucent, tinted in a shade of light blue. She could see right through it if she squinted, but its insides were invisible, a mystery with no solution in sight.


    Though it possessed a pair of wings, she doubted that the creature had the ability to fly. Each individual feather was at least twice her height and three times her width, and there were dozens of them laid out side by side. But even then, the monster¡¯s wingspan seemed too small for an entity so massive. Not that she would ever find out. There wasn¡¯t even enough space for the lord to jump, let alone take to the air.


    Claire was not intimidated by its size, but her eyes widened as it opened its mouth and revealed the horror within. Its tongue¡ªtongues¡ªwere made up of long strands of muscle, each adorned with a number of extras. There were arms squirming towards her as best they could, legs desperately flailing for release, and heads either screaming for her demise or begging to be put out of their misery.


    Her mind screamed. It screamed that something about the monster was wrong. The sight of it was so sanity-draining that she almost failed to realise that she was under attack. The tongue¡¯s split ends flew at her, slowly arcing through the air before snapping forward as would a set of heavy whips. Reacting in the nick of time, she narrowly evaded all five tendrils and retaliated by throwing her half-melted spears.


    Neither was able to inflict any harm. Their dulled ends bounced right off the frog¡¯s moist tongue without so much as leaving a cut or a bruise. Its attacks, on the other hand, were deadly. Each missed lash left a deep imprint in the mud. Those that hit trees demolished them, trunks and all, without a notable decrease in their speed.


    Cutlass in one hand and axe in the other, she blew through the second wave of attacks. The venom-coated blades tore through the fleshy appendages. She knew she was hurting it. Each of her slashes replenished a few points of mana, courtesy of the phantom strikes accompanying them, but none of it seemed to stick. Every bit of damage she dealt was immediately regenerated. The tongues would bubble and new flesh would sprout from whatever piece she happened to bisect.


    The more she attacked it, the more she was made to understand that its mouth-weapon was the opposite of a vital. If she wanted to deal lasting damage, she was going to need to get closer.


    Using her force magic, she tried just that by displacing the incoming tongues and pushing forward, dashing into the fray with her weapons swinging wildly.


    Every tongue she encountered was cleaved in two. But that was only to be expected.


    The frog was not a warrior.


    It was a mage.


    A massive, out of place tree flew at her roughly halfway through her charge, one far larger than anything else in the immediate vicinity. Even from a glance, she could tell that the ridiculously obtuse trunk was too thick to cut. With her tail pointed towards her rear, she magically leapt into the air to avoid it. A near fatal mistake.


    A dozen tongues flew at her all at once. She was able to redirect herself just enough to evade the ones coming from behind her, but there were too many of them for her to strike back. The best she could do was raise her weapons and use them as a means of defence.


    Neither the stone axe nor the solid iron brick were able to hold before the heavy onslaught. The lumberjack¡¯s companion was snapped in half and the sword-turned-shield was bent out of shape, its wielder sent flying back into the forest. Discarding both broken blades, she immediately replaced them with a pair of crab-legged daggers, neither of which held for very long. A few cuts was all it took for them to dull and break. In the blink of an eye, two of the three pairs of blades were exhausted and deemed unfit for further use.


    Frowning, she drew her last pair of crab legs and dashed forward, but was intercepted by a storm of objects, each fired from the tip of a tongue. She had to duck and weave past a porcelain vase, a straw doll, a broken dagger, a pillar of flame, a cloud of poison, and even an old piano. The items were haphazard and unrelated at best, but Claire was unperturbed.


    She knew exactly what was going on.


    The frog was tapping into the forces of chaos and exploiting the world¡¯s fundamental lack of order. It was wild magic, an absurd strain whose only consistency was its lack thereof. It was not the sort of witchcraft that a sane combatant would ever invest their time in learning; some of the frog¡¯s wild bolts may have seemed threatening, but it was impossible for an effective combat strategy to be formed around them. Even the caster was completely unaware of what their next spell would bring.


    On the other hand, the wild mage¡¯s opponent was able to immediately formulate a strategy to circumvent its antics. At the end of the day, the projectiles were just projectiles. Even if the objects manifested were random, their purpose remained as one. To dissuade her approach.


    Warding off the next wave of tongue strikes and random objects with a freshly summoned snake, she propelled herself through the sky, constantly adjusting her height and momentum to stay ahead of the frog¡¯s whips. She dodged a spell by flinging herself to the left, evaded a tendril by suddenly swerving to the right, and avoided a sweeping beam by landing back on the ground before finally arriving at the frog¡¯s head. It was upside down, so she couldn¡¯t get on top of it, but she was able to propel herself forward and plant both her remaining daggers into the creature¡¯s eyes, the one weakness her mastery skill had managed to detect.


    Claire succeeded in accomplishing what she set out to do, but the results proved her efforts fruitless. Its eyeball was bigger than she was; the tiny crab legs barely pierced the monster¡¯s skin. It was impossible to tell if the rocket fuel coating her blades was having any sort of effect.


    Whatever the case, she left her daggers where they were and immediately disengaged. Relying primarily on her force magic, she propelled herself away from the lord and landed beside the basin, near the giant wall that was the waterfall¡¯s source.


    She expected a dozen strikes to follow in her wake, but her foe had refrained from attacking. Looking back, she found it staring at her, its mouth closed and its eldritch tongue nowhere to be seen. After holding its gaze for a number of seconds, the monster took a deep breath, puffed out its throat, and croaked. A thousand different cries flooded through her mind at once, some mocking, others scornful, all horrifying.


    Not knowing what to expect, Claire responded to the taunt by firing a freezing ray from her chest, but the frog opened its mouth and matched it with a beam of its own. The strange spell changed colours every time she looked at it, but it wasn¡¯t entirely inconsistent. It was never without a purple or a yellow, somewhere in the mix.


    As expected, the frog¡¯s beam had hers completely overpowered. She had to cancel her attack and leap out of the way to avoid the magic¡¯s effects, of which, there were plenty. Everything the light touched was polymorphed. Trees became keys, keys became sheep, sheep became cakes, and cakes flyswatters. It was a pure mess of mass destruction, one that even spawned and subsequently removed an unlucky orc.


    Another wave of tongues closed in on her before the beam was done firing. They were deadlier than they were before, faster and more fluid. Dodging was unreliable. She had to swat them away and the only weapon she had left was her mace. She held it in both hands and did her utmost to meet the abominable tendrils head on.


    The first two hits were deflected without any issue. But the third proved problematic. Because it was accompanied by a loud crack.


    The sound of her supposedly reliable club suffering an irreparable amount of damage.


    A series of fractures ran down the weapon, spreading each time she parried a blow. It would last another few attacks, that was it. Fortunately, Shouldersnake was able to make up the difference. Holstering the weapon and relying on the spirit guardian for defence, she raised both her hands and fired another beam. Again, it was intercepted. But this time, hers proved more powerful.


    Lacing the attack with four points of divinity, she blasted through the polymorph ray and froze her target, the back of the frog¡¯s throat; the tongue¡¯s base. The ice blossomed into a violent burst of shards, each gouging the monster¡¯s flesh and tearing it asunder.


    A grin surfaced on her face as she watched the frog shriek.


    It wasn¡¯t healing. At least not right away.


    She had finally found a way to deal it lasting damage.


    But that was all she accomplished.


    One of the many tendrils flew at her gut faster than even Shouldersnake could react. It pierced it right through, its limbs and mouths tearing and chewing at her insides.


    She whacked at it with her mace, but she couldn¡¯t muster up the strength to bend or break the frog¡¯s weapon. Magically pushing herself with her tail got her nowhere. The tongue had shattered her spine. The entire lower half of her body was unresponsive.


    Gasping for air, Claire magically grabbed the weapon stuck in her gut and tried to tear the muscle in two, but another pair of mouth tentacles flew at her and pulverised her shoulders before she could break free.


    She began to panic as yet another tongue wrapped itself around her neck, squeezing. Hard. Too hard for her to breathe.


    Claire felt like she could hear something vague, coming from far, far away.


    But she couldn¡¯t tell what it was.


    She tried to look, but her vision was stolen. By the tendrils that drilled through her eyes.

 Chapter 95 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs VII

    Chapter 95 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs VII


    Sylvia silently stared as Claire ventured into the forest. She watched and waited, acting only as the other halfbreed vanished from her sphere of perception. By the powers vested in her as an aspect of chaos, she crafted a monarch outside the usual specifications, a lord imbued with the essence of her seventh nightmarish composition. Sending it off with a puff of air, she closed her eyes and turned back into a fox. The four-legged form was the one she preferred, but it wasn¡¯t without its inconveniences. It was too responsive; she found it almost impossible to keep her body from blatantly conveying her thoughts and intentions.


    ¡°Goodbye, Claire,¡± she whispered.


    Crabby Crags had failed to end the lyrkress¡¯ life, even with all its monsters raised to their highest levels. But the fox was convinced that the lord she created would not allow the torch¡¯s continued survival.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Muttering to herself, she closed her eyes and tried her best to steady her paws. But they wouldn¡¯t listen to her. They kept shaking, even as she turned around and started walking away.


    ¡°It had to happen, sooner or later.¡±


    Something in her chest didn¡¯t feel right. It felt like her guts were twisting themselves into knots. She was sick to her stomach, and a quick hum didn¡¯t remedy the malady, as it normally would.


    ¡°I have to go out and see the world.¡±


    She could feel a counterargument bubbling up from within, but she dismissed it before it could be given form.


    ¡°Besides, pets need to be put down eventually.¡±


    The trembling didn¡¯t stop.


    ¡°I¡¯m not doing anything wrong. This is just how Llystletein works. Us foxes only exist to collect souls in the first place, right, Al?¡±


    Looking over her shoulder, she met the celestial¡¯s gaze. The man¡¯s echo appeared, but wordlessly shook its head, unwilling to offer her any advice or consolation.


    ¡°What the heck? This is your fault. At least say I was right. Talk about breaking out or something, like you always do.¡±


    Sylvia chuckled quietly to herself as she leaned against a tree and breathed a series of deep breaths. It took a few minutes for her to finally stop shaking and get back to her feet¡ªnot that it really mattered. Returning to Darkwood Hollow was as easy as counting to three.


    After teleporting back to the runestone, she walked through the quiet village and made her way home without any detours. Most of the other foxes were lazy and spent all their time napping. They didn¡¯t like being disturbed, but that wasn¡¯t the only reason she had refrained from calling out to them. Grant and Alfred were the only two whose company she enjoyed. Though not an outsider, like her father, she never could quite find any reason to associate with the others. They were too boring, bland, and focused on the mission.


    ¡°Hey Mom! Hey Dad! I¡¯m home!¡±


    Sylvia announced her presence as she entered the burrow. Like the treehouses that some of the other foxes used, the underground chamber was a separate subspace. It expanded to many times its true size as she passed through the entrance, a property that had been disabled during Claire¡¯s first visit.


    Almost everything was exactly as she had last seen it, with her dad¡¯s presence the sole outlier. He was standing in the kitchen with a chain anchoring his ankle to one of the walls. It looked incredibly uncomfortable, but the man in question didn¡¯t seem to mind. He had even created an echo to hum a non-magical tune as he went about deboning a rabbit¡ªboth actions performed solely for the sake of his captive audience.


    ¡°Welcome home, sweetie,¡± said Dixie. Her mom was hovering around her dad¡¯s shoulders. Sometimes, she would sit on him, other times, she would spin around excitedly.


    ¡°Welcome back, Sylvie. We were just talking about you,¡± said her father. Unlike her mother, he was too preoccupied to spin around.


    Sylvia blinked. ¡°You were?¡±


    The elf¡¯s lips curved upward; she could see his expression reflected in his knife. ¡°Yes, about you and that friend of yours.¡±


    A sudden sharp feeling prodded at the back of the fox¡¯s mind, but she shrugged it off.


    ¡°It¡¯s a shame that she¡¯s a torch, but I¡¯m glad you two are getting along.¡±


    ¡°Oh umm¡­ well¡­ about that¡­¡± Sylvia turned her eyes away from her parents and stared at the nearest wall.


    Dixie giggled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, sweetie. I¡¯m not going to tell you that you have to listen to Al.¡±


    But that¡¯s exactly what I want you to tell me, thought Sylvia. A persistent itching welled up within her throat. Swallowing didn¡¯t make it go away.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if we count as friends. She thinks I¡¯m annoying,¡± she said, slowly.


    ¡°Because you talk too much,¡± said Dixie.


    ¡°No she doesn¡¯t. In an elven settlement, she¡¯d be considered one of the quieter ones. You should se¡ªow.¡±


    Dixie yanked her husband¡¯s ear and put an immediate end to his rant. ¡°You shut your mouth, Zelos. Her taking after you is the problem.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Honey. If you say so,¡± groaned the elf. He sighed before perking up abruptly. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s right. I don¡¯t think she really thinks you¡¯re annoying, Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°But she constantly tells me to shut up!¡±


    ¡°Yes, but she still talks to you and treats you much better than everyone else.¡±


    Sylvia blinked. ¡°Really? I thought she was nicer to you.¡± She didn¡¯t want to hear the explanation, but the words had spilled from her mouth before she could stop them.


    The elf chuckled and allowed a root to take over his task as he turned around. For a moment, it looked like he was going to trip over his chain, but his foot evaded it with practised ease.


    ¡°She treats me cordially. The two of you are on friendlier terms,¡± he said, as he wiped his hands with a piece of cloth. ¡°She may just come off as rude, but it¡¯s because she¡¯s more comfortable around you. Or at least that¡¯s the way I see it.¡±


    ¡°How do you know she doesn¡¯t just hate me?¡±


    ¡°Have you seen how she treats Geoff?¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± The fox¡¯s mouth twitched as she turned her eyes on the nearest wall.


    Her mother giggled. ¡°Oh, Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t even start! I¡¯m not bad at reading people!¡±


    ¡°And lying too,¡± said Zelos.


    ¡°You two are so mean. I need new parents,¡± grumbled the fox.


    Dixie licked her lips. ¡°If you wind up with new parents, we¡¯ll need a new daughter.¡±


    ¡°I would be much obliged, my dear,¡± said Zelos, his cheeks glowing.


    ¡°Mom! Dad! That¡¯s gross! Save that for when I¡¯m not here!¡±


    The couple shared a laugh as the elf sat down in front of the table. One of the roots carried the rabbit¡¯s legs over, while the rest was placed in a pot. Dixie hopped off her husband¡¯s shoulder and claimed a piece for herself. She slowly chewed on it, tearing off tiny bits and pieces with every bite.


    Zelos, on the other hand, clasped his hands together and leaned on the table.¡°So where did you go? We were looking for you earlier, but Grant said he couldn¡¯t find you.¡±


    ¡°I umm¡­ showed Claire to Croaker''s Creek.¡±


    ¡°Then shouldn¡¯t you be keeping watch? I don¡¯t think she¡¯s going to be able to beat it, even with Geoff¡¯s support.¡±


    Especially not the one I summoned, thought Sylvia. ¡°Geoff isn¡¯t with her.¡±


    Her father sighed. ¡°Sylvie¡­ you¡¯re going to get her killed.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Sylvia took a deep breath. ¡°That¡¯s why I did it.¡±


    There was a moment of silence as the elf lowered his gaze and took a breath. Seeing it as a chance to interject, Dixie swallowed the raw flesh in her mouth and looked between them as she spoke.


    ¡°I thought she was your friend.¡±


    ¡°She was,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°B-but I¡¯ll be able to make more friends, eventually¡­¡± Her lips trembled.


    ¡°Sylvie¡­¡± Zelos pinched one of his ears.


    ¡°I want to get out of Llystletein, Dad. I know I didn¡¯t before, but I want to go see what¡¯s out there now. And this¡­ is the fastest way.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to harvest until the seventh hexstone,¡± said Dixie. ¡°Three is too early.¡±


    ¡°I know, but she¡¯s already worth more than enough because of her divinity.¡±


    The wood elf sighed. ¡°This is why you¡¯re a terrible liar, Sylvie. You should really try to think these things through a little more before you say them.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not lying!¡±


    ¡°Beck told me that Crabby Crags had a sudden difficulty spike the other day.¡±


    Sylvia stood up on her hind legs, crossed her arms, and huffed. ¡°So what?¡±


    ¡°You were trying to kill her before that.¡±


    ¡°Okay fine!¡± shouted the fox. ¡°Maybe I was! But it¡¯s not my fault! If I don¡¯t do it soon, then I¡¯m never going to be able to do it ever!¡±


    She slammed one of her paws on the table. If not for the barrier that appeared directly beneath the limb, the fragile wooden structure would have been smashed to bits.


    Walking over, Dixie placed her hands on her daughter¡¯s paw and looked up at her. ¡°It¡¯s okay, sweetie. You don¡¯t have to kill her if you don¡¯t want to. No one¡¯s going to make you do it.¡±


    ¡°How else am I supposed to see the world!?¡± She clenched her other paw as her whole body started to tremble. ¡°We¡¯re going to be stuck here forever if Al can¡¯t beat Flitzegarde.¡±


    Neither parent answered her right away. The two exchanged a pair of looks and subsequent nods before Dixie got up, flew to the subspace¡¯s entrance, and sealed it shut. There was a loud clicking sound a moment later as Zelos produced an artifact from his bag, one that projected a circular barrier encompassing the underground subspace.


    ¡°Being stuck here forever with a friend is better than being out there, all alone,¡± said the older fox-fairy, as she returned.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know that! You haven¡¯t even been out there!¡±


    Dixie put her hands on her hips and huffed. ¡°Your father has.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I think the same way you two do!¡±


    ¡°And you don¡¯t have to,¡± said the elf. The man was wearing an awfully goofy smile, the sort that would always surface while he was in the midst of his research. ¡°But it might be worth knowing that Alfred¡¯s way out of Llystletein isn¡¯t the only one out there.¡±


    The fox gasped. ¡°You kept working on all that artifact stuff? Didn¡¯t Al tell you that he was gonna kill you if you didn¡¯t stop?¡±


    ¡°He hasn¡¯t caught on for the last fifty years. He¡¯s not going to suddenly catch on now.¡±


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Fifty years? I thought you just started a few months ago.¡±


    ¡°That was just a test to gauge how Alfred was going to react. It¡¯s not ready just yet, but it will be. Very, very soon.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean I¡¯m really gonna be able to leave?¡±


    ¡°Whenever you want.¡±


    Sylvia¡¯s tail began wagging rapidly, only to freeze and straighten up as she paled. ¡°Then I¡¯ve been trying to kill her for nothing!?¡±


    Not waiting for a response, Sylvia scrambled out of the burrow, failing twice as her parents disengaged the mechanisms sealing it shut. The first place she went was the youngest mirewulf¡¯s base; the squirrel was still buried right beneath it, seemingly nonchalant.


    ¡°Geoff!¡±


    ¡°Oh, hello. Is that you, Sylvia?¡± he looked towards her and nodded.


    She blinked. ¡°How did you know it was me? Wait, don¡¯t answer that! That¡¯s not important right now.¡±


    Humming a quick note, she made the ground beneath the squirrel rise. The mirewulf was disturbed enough to awaken, but she silenced it with a quick yip, an order for it to rest.


    ¡°There¡¯s no time to explain what¡¯s going on. Claire¡¯s in trouble.¡± She spoke as quickly as she could as she raised a paw and pointed it westward. ¡°Do you know where Croaker''s Creek is?¡±


    ¡°As a matter of fact, I do,¡± he said, as he cracked his neck. ¡°Thanks fo¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stop talking and just go!¡±


    ¡°Ahh, finally, a ch¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up! Go!¡±


    The rodent departed as he shouted another incomprehensible phrase that never made it to her ears. His level was hardly any higher than Claire¡¯s, but his sheer velocity was indicative of a near five-digit agility stat.


    Sylvia did little but watch as he vanished into the forest. At most, he would last a minute. She knew that she should have accompanied him, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to move. Her paws had started trembling again; she didn''t know what she was supposed to do.


    As the person who had set the entire mess into motion, she knew that she had to step in. They wouldn¡¯t be able to handle an eldritch lord. Asking Geoff for his assistance was no different from needlessly sending another person off to their death. But she didn¡¯t think that it was right for her to suddenly show up and act as if she hadn¡¯t behaved like some sort of filthy turncoat.


    It was all her fault.


    Everything had been orchestrated by her hand and her hand alone. She didn¡¯t know if her father was right. She had no idea if Claire really thought of her as a friend, or even a pet, as she claimed. Whatever the case, their relationship had already been ruined. She had betrayed her. Overtly, this time.


    Claire would never trust her again. There was even a fair chance that the lyrkress would try to kill her.


    And she would have no right to deny her.


    ¡°What¡¯s the point in helping her if we¡¯re not going to be friends anymore?¡± A sinking feeling settled in her gut as she gave voice to the thought.


    She hated herself for saying it.


    It made her feel terrible. Claire wouldn¡¯t have been in any danger if Sylvia had taken a moment to think of anything besides herself. And now she was trying to make excuses. Again, entirely out of selfishness. To avoid an emotional burden.


    She knew she had to act.


    But her feet wouldn¡¯t budge.


    Sylvia didn¡¯t want the inevitable confrontation to come. She didn¡¯t want Claire to call her a traitor, attack her, or even express her resentment. Even though she knew she deserved just about all of it. But she also didn¡¯t want her to die. Especially not without reason.


    Clenching her jaws, the fox directed her focus inward, pictured the location in her head, and warped to Croaker''s Creek.


    Her destination looked a lot different from what she had in mind, largely in part because the monarch had already completed its manifestation. It had altered the environment to fit its new size and grown to ridiculous proportions, its height over ten times that of the usual lord of the slough.


    The battle itself was long underway. Geoff was fighting it, cutting up its tendrils with his cleavers, defending the bleeding mess of a halfbreed that lay to his rear. He was many times faster than the giant frog, but it had too many limbs at its disposal. He was unable to get through all of them, and the assault was too heavy for him to continue holding his ground. Taking one of its attacks had already left him with a broken arm.


    While everyone was distracted, Sylvia shrank down to her fairy form, snuck through the undergrowth, and checked on Claire. Her administrative skill was telling her that she was still alive. But she had to make sure for herself.


    A grimace loomed on her face as she inspected the half-snake¡¯s wounds. Her lower half was a battered mess, completely broken with several holes running through her body. Her gut was hardly any better. It was pierced all the way through. Her arms were broken and her piercing eyes were gone, ripped out of their sockets.


    Sylvia knew the damage was temporary. But she still gulped, audibly, as her heart sank.


    Again, she was made to face the fact that it was all her fault.


    A scream, from Geoff, brought her attention back to the battle. He was roaring, shouting something incomprehensible in an unknown language as he continued to deflect whatever he could. But his loss was inevitable. Another few waves, and he would end up just like Claire.


    Biting her lips, Sylvia hummed a low tune, an order for the monarch to detach from its host and leave. It abided by her instructions after a brief delay, causing the realm to warp and return to its default state.


    The butterfly itself flew off to parts unknown; she was going to have to wrangle it some time later so that it could be stored with the rest. But for the time being, she had prioritised its disappearance. There would be chaos if any of the other foxes happened to spot it.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Geoff was left creasing his brows as the giant frog deflated and vanished among a pile of similarly sized counterparts.


    ¡°It left,¡± said Sylvia, after another brief pause.


    ¡°Must¡¯ve known I was about to get serious,¡± said the squirrel.


    Sylvia was almost tempted to reject the notion outright, but nodded along instead. ¡°Maybe. Thanks Geoff.¡±


    ¡°No problem,¡± he said, with the corners of his lips raised as high as they would go. ¡°Is she going to be alright?¡±


    Sylvia hummed an invigorating tune and wrapped all three of their bodies in a golden aura. ¡°She will be.¡±


    The vitality-boosting magic drastically increased the half-cervitaur¡¯s health regeneration and restored her life force at an unnatural rate. Her wounds vanished in just a few seconds, leaving not a trace or scar behind. Claire began to stir almost immediately afterwards, groaning as she twitched and rolled around. Sylvia gulped. The sinking sensation in her chest only grew as her former friend grew closer and closer to waking.


    ¡°Geoff. Can we have a moment?¡± she asked, her voice unsteady.


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    Apparently, the rodent didn¡¯t exactly understand her request, as all he did was take half a step away. He even started posing and adjusting his exact position, almost as if to ensure that Claire would see him when she finally opened her eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m alive? I thought I lost.¡± The rogue spoke as she brought a hand to her face, the rest of her body still unmoving.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± said the fairy, her heart pounding. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Claire. It¡¯s all my fault. I tried to kill you and I really shouldn¡¯t have. I¡¯ll leave you alone now, since you probably don¡¯t want to deal with me anymore. Goodbye.¡±


    Sylvia spun around and flew off. She started out at her top speed, but slowed against her will. The force spell negated her momentum and reeled her back, slowly pulling her into the palm of the mage¡¯s hand. She was expecting Claire to grab and squish her, so she put extra effort into escaping, but the vector overpowered the song she used to bolster her speed, even though its value was hardly impressive. With a surprised blink, Sylvia turned around and found Claire¡¯s eyes glowing with a violent golden light. Divinity.


    Knowing that she couldn¡¯t escape, the fairy surrendered herself to the force and hummed a spell to reinforce her frame. But no attack came. Claire stopped pulling her once she was close enough and flicked her tail to spin her around. She didn¡¯t say or do anything else, opting instead to sit still, her arms crossed and her lips pursed into a stern frown.


    ¡°Ummm¡­ Claire?¡± Sylvia stared at the ground, her gaze only occasionally flicking up.


    ¡°I¡¯m waiting for a better explanation.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Sylvia¡¯s fox ears flopped forward. ¡°Okay, I guess, but I¡¯m not really sure where to start.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°Then I¡¯ll start. You trying to kill me isn¡¯t much of a surprise.¡±


    ¡°Huh? It isn¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°I was expecting you to do something like this from the start. Alfred too. I know he¡¯s planning to stab me in the back at some point. It¡¯s just a question of when.¡±


    ¡°That just means you never trusted me!¡±


    ¡°Trust is something you earn.¡±


    Though the words themselves were harsh, the other girl¡¯s tone was perfectly neutral. Sylvia knew that the lyrkress was good at concealing her emotions, but she couldn¡¯t help but feel as if the lack of malice was genuine. The weight in her chest lightened, just enough for her to breathe a sigh of relief.


    ¡°You¡¯re not mad?¡±


    The lyrkress shrugged. ¡°Maybe a little. Now explain.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ okay, I guess. But only if you promise not to tell anyone else.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you should get rid of him first then.¡± Claire pointed at the rodent, who had switched from posing to dancing.


    ¡°He¡¯s a Llystletein monster, so he knows already.¡± Sylvia hummed up a bubble, sat on top of it, and made herself comfortable. ¡°I really want to see the outside world. Everything you¡¯ve told me about it just¡­ really makes me want to go.¡±


    Claire nodded, as if to urge her to continue.


    ¡°So umm¡­ you know Al, the celestial? Llystletein is basically his prison. And since he made us, we¡¯re basically trapped in here with him. The only way for us to get out is for him to harvest a bunch of souls so he can overpower the goddess of order.¡±


    ¡°Is that why Llystletein classes are so powerful? Because he has more influence?¡±


    ¡°Ummmm, not exactly. I think Llysltetein is actually supposed to be the name of a big empire. It used to be something of a superpower, back when it was still thrivi¡ªerrr, oops. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m supposed to talk about that. Knowing about it is supposed to be kinda taboo.¡± She covered the bottom half of her face with her tail as she averted her gaze. ¡°Anyway! Al basically needs people to die so we can get out of here.¡±


    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have told you any stories then,¡± grumbled Claire.


    ¡°Maybe not,¡± Sylvia averted her gaze. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry. I just¡­ thought that getting out was going to be my top priority.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m more important,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that, but trying to kill you made me feel really guilty.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it did.¡±


    ¡°I know you might not believe me, but I swear it really did!¡±


    Claire smirked. ¡°I can tell.¡±


    ¡°Ugh¡­ you¡¯re so mean! Maybe I should¡¯ve let that frog finish you off after all.¡±


    The lyrkress shrugged. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have been surprised, even if you did. You were always suspicious, ever since we first met.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a bad actor. The whole skit you did with Grant was unnatural. Darkwood Hollow was clearly never under attack, and the question you asked me right before I went to Borrok Peak really gave it all away.¡± Claire raised a finger each time she listed off an incident. ¡°What you did to Crabby Crags just seemed like par for the course. And so did this.¡±


    ¡°You knew from the start? But then why did you keep me around?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m used to it. This is nothing, compared to what the noble houses do to each other.¡±


    ¡°Is it really that bad?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen harlots who have tricked their husbands into naming the sons of others as their heirs, cousins who have cooked and served each other¡¯s daughters out of spite, and children who have maliciously condemned and executed their own parents for false crimes. This is nothing.¡±


    The fox shuddered. ¡°That¡¯s just plain old terrifying.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s what we call high society,¡± said Claire, with a self-deriding smile.


    ¡°So umm¡­¡± Sylvia floated up to the other girl¡¯s face and meekly looked her in the eyes. She kept opening her mouth, but closing it right after.


    Geoff took the pause as an opportunity to speak. ¡°I¡¯d hate to inter¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    His mouth was sealed with a quick application of brute force. Grabbing the top half of his jaw with her tail, Claire pushed it down and pressed him against the forest floor.


    ¡°D-do you really not hate me?¡± stammered the fairy, eventually. ¡°You¡¯re not going to blame me, yell at me, or call me a traitor or anything?¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°There was a girl that tried to kill me for having prettier ears than her. She eventually became something of a sister to me.¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ that doesn¡¯t really make sense.¡±


    ¡°She was a lot more direct than all the ones that tried to scheme, and I¡¯d rather have a dagger pointed at my face than one pointed at my back.¡±


    ¡°That still doesn¡¯t explain how the two of you ended up becoming friends!¡±


    ¡°We spent time together and it happened. Just like how you and I became friends.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ well umm¡­ are we still friends?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean that you trust me?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Again, Sylvias¡¯s heart sank. Her ears and tails drooped as she fell flat on her stomach. Her heart sped up, and her legs started wobbling beneath her. It was exactly as she had feared. She had lost Claire¡¯s trust. Things would never really go back to the way they were.


    ¡°That means we¡¯re hardly any different from acquaintances,¡± said the fox, the back of her throat completely dry.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need trust to be friends.¡±


    ¡°Yes you do!¡±


    Claire tilted her head, almost as if to express a lack of understanding. ¡°Not in my book.¡±


    ¡°Having friends you don¡¯t trust is just silly! What if I decide to kill you in your sleep?¡±


    ¡°Will you?¡±


    ¡°Probably not anymore,¡± admitted Sylvia.


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    ¡°But what if I suddenly deci¡ª¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing I could do to stop you. Trust doesn¡¯t make a difference. It¡¯s not like the guilt is going to change your mind.¡±


    ¡°I guess not.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s why there¡¯s no point in me worrying about it.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Sylvia twiddled her thumbs. ¡°But are you really going to forgive me? I basically tried to use you like a sacrifice. And you said that¡¯s why you were here in the first place, right? What I did seems like something that¡¯d bring up some really bad memories.¡±


    The lyrkress pushed herself off the ground and got to her feet. ¡°Maybe if I didn¡¯t suspect you from the start.¡±


    Sylvia put her hands behind her back and dodged the other girls¡¯ piercing stare.


    Claire grabbed the half elf¡¯s cheeks, pinched, and pulled. ¡°I know you didn¡¯t like being told that I don¡¯t trust you, but it isn¡¯t as if I¡¯ll never trust you.¡±


    Blinking, the fox-fairy looked up. ¡°Does that mean what I think it means?¡±


    ¡°It means that trust is something that¡¯s earned.¡±


    Her ears perking up and her tail swinging back and forth, the two-legged forest dweller floated up to the other halfbreed and gave one of her ears a hug. ¡°Thanks Claire. I¡¯ll try to make this up to you somehow.¡±


    ¡°You better,¡± said the lyrkress, with a faint smile.


    With their conversation finally complete, Claire let go of the squirrel¡¯s face and stopped depriving him of air. Sylvia had almost expected him to immediately start talking, but he remained perfectly silent. Blinking, she looked at him again and realised that he had fallen unconscious.


    Claire tossed the rodent into the swamp, where he lay with his tail twitching and his face in the water. ¡°I¡¯m going to need to find something else to fight, something stronger than the crabs, but weaker than the frog.¡±


    ¡°Wanna try beating up some mirewulves? There are some near Darkwood Hollow if you want to try taking them on.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Claire. ¡°But not right now. I¡¯ve had enough for one morning.¡±


    ¡°Then let¡¯s head back! I think Dad¡¯s making lunch, and he¡¯s probably going to make your share too.¡±


    ¡°Five more minutes.¡± Sitting back down, Claire entrusted her weight to a tree and took a series of slow, deep breaths.


    ¡°Not this again!¡±


    Sylvia tugged at her ear and tried to get her to stand up, but the lyrkress ignored her. Reaching behind her back, she drew her half-broken mace and cast her gaze on the cracks running down its length. ¡°Stupid frog.¡±

 Chapter 96 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs VIII

    Chapter 96 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs VIII


    Claire stifled a yawn as she made her way through Darkwood Hollow. Her body was afflicted with a strange weight, a familiar sense of lethargy that clung to her mind and refused to let go. She didn¡¯t feel like moving, and it had taken Sylvia several minutes of harassment to convince her to finally get to her feet. Her eyelids drooped every time she stopped paying attention to them and the urge to simply pass out where she stood never left her. Still, she was able to navigate the forest and wander back to the almost feline town.


    Gauging the settlement¡¯s population was difficult. There were foxes and fairies strewn about at random, with at least half of them napping on giant mushrooms. The population density varied greatly between the different areas and there was no way for her to count any of the individuals that had chosen to remain indoors. Though Sylvia spent almost all her time as a furball, the other residents didn¡¯t appear to be as partial to their four-legged forms. Less than half of them were foxes. Most of them were transformed into humanoids, with some a third of Sylvia¡¯s size and others standing at ten times her height. The taller ones looked almost exactly like regular beastkin, with context the only reason she assumed otherwise.


    ¡°Okay, here we are!¡± Sylvia spoke from her position atop Claire¡¯s head. She was already back in her fox form, as she almost always was. ¡°It¡¯s under the third tree on the left, right next to all the lightcrowns.¡±


    The pet had transformed soon after their initial post-almost-mortem discussion. The fox¡¯s insecurity hadn¡¯t come as much of a surprise, but dealing with it had proven challenging, even for Claire and all her social aptitude. Alice had been much more receptive to the subtle hints she gave. With Sylvia, it almost felt like she would have to give voice to her thoughts for the fox to finally understand them. She wasn¡¯t exactly fond of going out of her way to display her emotions, but she at least decided to give it a try, both for her safety, and Sylvia¡¯s peace of mind.


    ¡°All this effort for a useless fox,¡± she muttered, as she walked up to the burrow¡¯s entrance.


    ¡°Hey! I¡¯m not useless!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what a useless fox would say.¡± Rolling her eyes, she reached up and pinched Sylvia¡¯s nose before directing her gaze to her feet. ¡°Do I need to knock?¡±


    ¡°Nope!¡± Sylvia leapt off her trusty steed and jumped right into the den. ¡°Mom! Dad! We¡¯re back!¡± Her voice rang with a strange quality. It was quieter than usual and half faded, as if she were speaking from a distance.


    Claire raised her ears overhead and listened carefully as the fox¡¯s parents replied. Oddly enough, their voices were similarly distorted. It was almost like their words were going through a layer of fluid. It was a curious phenomenon, but the blueblood shrugged it off, took on her lamian form, and slithered her way into the foxhole. The tunnel almost seemed to expand as she got deeper inside. She could have sworn that the home was only a meter or two beneath the surface, but her whole body was able to fit inside of the entryway.


    The half-moose stared blankly as she finally poked her head through the other end of the underpass and looked upon the family¡¯s subterranean home. It was oddly spacious with far more head and legroom than Grant¡¯s tiny treehouse. She would still bump her head against the ceiling if she were to assume her lyrkrian form, but she had no trouble turning into a humanoid and standing straight up. Likewise, the furniture was also upscaled, with most of it just large enough for the home¡¯s sole elven occupant. There were a few disproportionate pieces scattered throughout, like the tiny swing hanging from the ceiling and the miniature desk floating off in one of the room¡¯s corners, but for the most part, the fittings were usable by all three of the home¡¯s residents.


    Though underground, the space was well lit, with the mushrooms scattered throughout providing a constant source of illumination. Some of the fungi were big enough to double as stools, but most were thumb-sized, growing out of the floors and walls alike. Further contributing to the bright atmosphere was the crackling flame kept in one of the cave¡¯s distant corners. Zelos was standing by it, tending to a pot that stood at nearly half his less-than-remarkable height.


    A subtle but present clinking led her eyes to his ankle, where she discovered a rusty chain, binding him to the wall. The metal leash was several dozen meters long, more than lengthy enough to allow him to walk around the house and even step out into the yard. It hardly bound him, but it was undoubtedly a restraint.


    The elf nodded at her as their eyes met. ¡°You lived! Congratulations.¡±


    ¡°Barely.¡±


    ¡°Barely surviving is still surviving,¡± said Dixie. ¡°Lords are notoriously hard to kill.¡±


    ¡°I can see that. The tongue was obnoxious.¡±


    Zelos cocked a brow as he looked up from the pot. ¡°The tongue? You were able to face a cotton crab buccaneer head on. You shouldn¡¯t have had any trouble with the tongue.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°It was faster than any of the crabs. Deadlier too.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± The elf set down his ladle and crossed his arms. ¡°They¡¯re supposed to be a lot better with magic than they are in close quarters.¡±


    ¡°It was. But it was also good with its tongue.¡±


    All three humanoids immediately turned towards the only four-legged critter present. Having already anticipated the unspoken accusation, Sylvia had long committed herself to staring at a particularly bright mushroom with seemingly great interest. She continued to silently converse with it, even as she started to sweat, under all the pressure.


    ¡°Sylvie? What did you make her fight?¡± asked Zelos.


    ¡°T-the lord of the slough,¡± stuttered the furball.


    ¡°And what level was it?¡±


    ¡°T-that¡¯s confidential and I can¡¯t tell you since you¡¯re technically a torch!¡±


    ¡°It was a level 250 eldritch frog, freshly created and twice ascended,¡± said Dixie, from the other side of the room. She had her eyes closed and her hands pressed against a small metallic object adorned with a series of bright runes.


    ¡°M-mom!?¡± squeaked the fox. ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to tell them that!¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re not supposed to be creating new lords, sweetie.¡±


    Her eyes narrowed into a glare, Claire walked in front of the fox and picked her up by the cheeks. She pulled the critter¡¯s face as wide as she could get it to go without causing any lasting damage.


    ¡°Claire! Stop that!¡± cried the victim.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°It feels weird!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the point.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said you weren¡¯t mad!¡±


    ¡°I never said that.¡±


    ¡°Yes you did!¡±


    ¡°I said I was a little mad. Now, I¡¯m a little more mad.¡±


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    ¡°Argghhh! Mom! Dad! Help! She¡¯s going to tear off my cheeks!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, sweetie,¡± said the victim¡¯s mother. ¡°Fox cheeks are highly malleable.¡±


    ¡°How would you know!? You never spend any time as a fox!¡±


    Dixie huffed before turning to the only man in the room with her eyes moist. ¡°I used to, before I met your father.¡±


    The elf returned the gesture before turning to his daughter and her assailant. ¡°Claire, would you mind letting her go and taking a seat at the table? I was hoping to serve lunch.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    After one last particularly violent tug, the lyrkress set the fox back down and approached one of the chairs. It seemed a little small at first, but it adjusted itself as soon as she touched it. The rest of the furniture followed suit, growing to accommodate her height with the various seats only partially changing. Their length and width remained identical, as to best support the individuals they were meant for, but their legs extended as to stay level with the table.


    ¡°Finally!¡± Sylvia rubbed her sore cheeks and patted them with her paws.


    Her father was left with an awkward, apologetic smile. ¡°Thank you, Claire. I¡¯ll be giving her a stern talking to later, about how friendship is meant to work.¡± His plants got to work and immediately began setting the table, placing a bowl and several wooden utensils in front of each of the five chairs. ¡°Oh, right. Where¡¯s Geoff?¡±


    Claire looked at Sylvia, who replied with a shrug, before turning to Zelos and doing the same.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s certainly unfortunate. I was expecting him, so I made enough for five.¡± A pair of roots tidied up one of the bowls and placed it in a basket while another pair ladled two portions of soup, one for the elf and the other for the lyrkress. The remaining plates were adorned with pieces of fresh meat, cut into slices thin enough for them to be translucent.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Nothing¡¯s gonna go to waste!¡± said Sylvia.


    The elf chuckled. ¡°I was more worried about him. He doesn¡¯t really seem to be eating too well.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± said the moose.


    The Redleaf family sat down as the napkins were placed, with Sylvia situated next to Claire and her parents seated across from them. The blueblood took the momentary lapse in the conversation to look upon the meal presented to her. It wasn¡¯t anything particularly outstanding, but neither was it offensive, just an ordinary soup with meat and vegetables.


    ¡°The rabbit is fresh.¡± The mother¡¯s fork moved without the use of her hands. It floated over to the meat, retrieved a tiny piece, and brought it to her face. ¡°I hunted a nice plump one after the two of you left, and Zelos cleaned it up.¡± The slice was still too big for her, so she kept the utensil floating in front of her as she slowly chewed through it, bit by bit.


    ¡°I can tell! It tastes really good.¡± Sylvia was already on her third piece. ¡°It¡¯s always much better without the fur, but getting it off is such a pain in the butt.¡±


    A wave of lethargy struck Claire as she raised a spoonful of warm soup to her lips. It wasn¡¯t any more bland than anything else Zelos had ever made, but for some odd reason, she felt the urge to set it aside. She wasn¡¯t hungry. She didn¡¯t want to eat. The only urge she felt was to lie down and get some well-deserved rest.


    ¡°Umm¡­ Claire? You look kinda woozy.¡±


    ¡°Because I am.¡± She pressed a hand against her forehead and leaned on the table. ¡°I¡¯m just¡­ tired. I¡¯m not really sure why.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s ¡®cause you pushed yourself too hard?¡±


    ¡°I doubt it,¡± she said, quietly.


    Dixie pointed towards a hallway that led further into the burrow. ¡°We have several guest rooms, if you would like to take a nap. The beds are nice and soft, the best you can find in Llystletein.¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°Maybe after lunch. Thank you, Dixie.¡±


    ¡°Not a problem. I¡¯ve already gotten one ready for you.¡± Dixie¡¯s fork retrieved another piece of meat.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Claire, as she turned to Sylvia. ¡°But first, there are a few things I want to get out of the way.¡±


    ¡°W-what?¡± asked the fox, as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She guarded her cheeks with her paws and kept a careful eye on Claire¡¯s hands.


    ¡°If the frog I just fought was 250, does that mean it¡¯s stronger than both the other lords I have to fight?¡±


    Sylvia breathed a sigh of relief and put her forelimbs back on the table. ¡°Oh, whew. That¡¯s what this was about?¡±


    ¡°I can pinch your cheeks more if you want.¡±


    ¡°No thanks!¡± The younger vixen¡¯s guard went right back up. ¡°I-I¡¯m gonna fix it next time so it¡¯s actually level 100 like it¡¯s supposed to be.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice.


    ¡°Don¡¯t fix it.¡±


    ¡°B-but why not!? It¡¯s way stronger than it should be! You¡¯re never gonna be able to finish your quest!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. I want to fight it again.¡± The rogue took a deep breath. ¡°After I get stronger.¡±


    She closed her eyes and took a moment to reflect on the battle. She didn¡¯t think that she had a shot of victory, as things stood, but she was confident that she could have forced it to reveal more of its hand, had she held out for any longer. Five seconds was all she had needed to lob a horse-shaped bomb down its throat, but alas, she could not.


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure if that¡¯s all too great of an idea¡­¡± said Sylvia. ¡°You¡¯re probably gonna need to ascend again first, and who knows how long that¡¯ll take.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. I just need to gain a few more levels,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I¡¯m starting to think that you¡¯re more likely to be the cause of your death than I am.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the one that made me fight it.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you have to fight it again!¡±


    ¡°Yes it does.¡±


    ¡°No it doesn¡¯t!¡± Sylvia creased her brow and looked around the room for support, but neither parent said a word, opting instead to watch the pair with smiles on their faces. ¡°I can¡¯t be the only one that thinks she¡¯s weird, right?¡±


    Claire crossed her arms. ¡°I¡¯m not weird. Centaurs live without shame.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not even sure what that¡¯s supposed to mean,¡± said Sylvia, raising one ear and lowering the other.


    ¡°It means that I¡¯m not allowed to lose.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s in any way related to anything! Especially since you¡¯ve already lost!¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t count as a loss if I kill it next time.¡±


    The fox threw up her paws. ¡°That¡¯s not how that works! You can¡¯t just beat someone at something once and then say you¡¯ve never lost when they¡¯ve already beat you before you beat them!¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s how it works in Cadria.¡±


    ¡°Well it shouldn¡¯t be!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just uncultured.¡±


    ¡°No I¡¯m not! Oh screw it! I give up!¡± Sylvia plopped onto the table and closed her eyes. ¡°Convincing you of anything is impossible. I still can¡¯t believe you chose vector mage right after I explicitly told you not to!¡±


    ¡°It seemed like the best choice.¡± The half-lamia spooned some meat and vegetables into her mouth.


    ¡°Vector mage is a great choice.¡± Dixie set her fork down and leaned back in her seat.


    ¡°It does seem rather potent,¡± said Zelos. ¡°I was considering making it my fourth.¡±


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t! It¡¯s all woomy and hard to control,¡± said Sylvia.


    The older fairy magically lifted her plate and placed it in a basket on the other side of the room. ¡°It just needs a bit of practice.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but getting the hang of it is really tough.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad.¡± Claire seized the dirty dish back out of the basket and returned it to the table. ¡°But flying is hard.¡±


    Dixie tilted her head. ¡°Flying? Really? Flying is supposed to be the easiest part, if you¡¯ve picked up the Llystletein variant.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to control.¡±


    ¡°It should be easier than what you just did. Much easier, in fact.¡±


    The two took a moment to exchange a pair of blank stares.


    ¡°I have to use my tail to push myself around. It¡¯s hard to move in the right direction.¡± Claire grew out the extra limb and pointed it at her back.


    ¡°That¡¯s not how you¡¯re supposed to fly.¡± Dixie stepped off her chair and floated across the table. ¡°It¡¯s more like this.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t pointing anything at herself. All three of her tails were left hanging behind her, and her limbs were all positioned naturally. Observing the forces around her, Claire didn¡¯t immediately notice anything abnormal. Until it suddenly hit her. One was missing. The fairy wasn¡¯t being pulled to the ground.


    ¡°Wait¡­ Sylvia does that too.¡±


    ¡°W-well yeah, h-how else is a fairy without wings supposed to fly?¡± The fox tried her best to make it seem as if nothing was wrong, but she wasn¡¯t able to keep herself from squeaking.


    ¡°You¡¯re teaching me to fly later.¡±


    ¡°B-but you¡¯re supposed to figure these things out yourself!¡±


    ¡°I said, you¡¯re teaching me to fly later,¡± repeated Claire, with a hiss. ¡°Weren¡¯t you supposed to ¡®make it up to me somehow?¡¯¡±


    ¡°I mean, I am! But this is just extortion!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    A small smirk on her face, Claire raised her spoon and took a satisfied, slow sip. The dish may not have been very flavourful, but the satisfaction that accompanied it made it every bit as delicious as a gourmet meal.

 Chapter 97 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs IX

    Chapter 97 - Giant Frogs and Wooden Dogs IX


    Sighing for the tenth time in just a few minutes, Claire stared at the ceiling through a pair of bleary eyes. Nothing felt right. Her arms and legs refused to move, her eyelids were heavy, and her breaths were laboured. All the signs were saying that she was completely, thoroughly exhausted. But for whatever reason, her consciousness refused to fade. The rogue had tried tossing, turning, and counting the fifty seven and a half mushrooms growing out of the ceiling on three separate occasions, all to no avail.


    The bed wasn¡¯t the problem. If anything, it was soft, heavenly, and just as inviting as the nice fluffy mattress she had back at the manor. By all means, it should have had every bit of power it needed to entice her into an unplanned afternoon nap. But it didn¡¯t.


    Putting the blame on a lack of darkness was equally as untenable. The underground space completely blocked out the sun and the mushrooms that otherwise kept it illuminated dimmed as soon as she closed the door to her room. They still continued to radiate a faint light, but their glows were soft, barely visible even in the dark.


    Not even her form was giving her any trouble. She wasn¡¯t uncomfortable, despite having remained a humanoid for something in the realm of an hour. Still, Claire couldn¡¯t help but suspect that undoing the transformation would aid in the pursuit of rest. Logically, it was worth a shot, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to act. Turning back into a lyrkress would take a tiny bit of effort, effort she was completely and utterly unwilling to spare.


    ¡°This is a waste of time.¡±


    An audible hiss escaped her as she opened up her quest menu. A week had passed since she had been tasked with slaying the lords, but she had failed to make any sort of progress. If anything, she had only moved the goalpost further away by asking for the lord of the slough to remain as it was. There were only three and a half weeks left. She would likely reach level 150 within the month if she continued at her current pace. Though not necessarily remarkable, it was still a respectable number for someone with only a few weeks¡¯ combat experience, but still a far cry from the frog¡¯s 250.


    I don¡¯t need to match it. I can kill it without my second ascension.


    There was no doubt that the frog still had a dozen tricks up its sleeve, but Claire had already confirmed that her magic did not leave it unscathed. The freezing ray had hurt it, badly enough to irritate it into really attacking her. Knowing that provided a sense of security. She was confident that a series of focused attacks would allow her to remove the creature¡¯s tongue. But she doubted that she would be able to take it down.


    Breathing yet another sigh, she allowed her eyes to wander. They eventually settled on the object resting atop the chair by her bedside, the once trusty mace that had served her throughout her adventure. It wasn¡¯t exactly completely out of commission per se. It was still more or less in one piece, but there were deep, irreparable cracks running its length.


    ¡°Why did it have to break?¡±


    Slowly, reluctantly, she crawled out of bed and grabbed the dysfunctional weapon. The lethargy had yet to leave her system, but she saw no purpose in lazing around, not with the overpowering sense of misery that came with being left alone and conscious in the dark.


    Her nightgown transformed into her usual outerwear as she dragged her feet to the door. Opening it, she found that the whole burrow was a lot darker and quieter than it had been just half an hour prior. No one else was home. The only sounds she heard were muffled and came from outside.


    As a whole, the abode was on the humbler side. There were few decorations, with most of the random objects strewn about built more for practical use than they were display. The few ornaments that did exist were peculiar. There was a clay vase in the shape of a fox¡¯s head, a shelf covered in serrated flowers, and a magical lamp made entirely of bone. Claire almost wanted to grab the objects and take them along with her, but she made sure to keep her hands to herself. As curious as she was, she knew better than to raid her pet¡¯s home.


    With her half-broken mace dangling from her hips, she crawled out the doorway, walked outside the village¡¯s bounds, and sought the nearest body of water. Her choice of destination didn¡¯t come with any real rhyme or reason; it was simply the first notable landmark her ears had managed to identify.


    A few minutes of walking led her to a large lake with a sparse but welcome headcount. There was one small group of foxes swimming around in the shallows and another napping by the bank, but it was otherwise free of any sentient life. There were a number of critters drinking from the watering hole, deer, rabbits, chipmunks, and badgers, but they appeared as would ordinary animals, lacking the obvious sentience demonstrated by the foxes.


    Wandering over to an empty stretch of the shore, she sat atop an old log and planted the bone club in the mud in front of her. It felt surprisingly durable, despite all the cracks. But frankly, there was no real point in salvaging it. It would last a few more swings at most before shattering into a million pieces. Throwing the weapon away seemed like an obvious choice, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to simply see it discarded.


    Unlike a blade or other manufactured good, she couldn¡¯t exactly get the bone reforged by visiting a blacksmith. The only way to produce a spare was to find and slay the monster it belonged to, but she had no idea what she was supposed to be looking for. The watchers were the only ones she¡¯d found that were roughly the right size, but they were much too fragile. Even her own bones were more durable, and not by an insignificant amount.


    ¡°What if¡­¡±


    Picking the weapon up again, she covered it in a layer of ice and froze its cracks shut. A quick test confirmed that the makeshift repairs were effective. The poor tree she bashed had its trunk half crushed, and none of the mace¡¯s cracks spread any further. All of the damage had been directed towards the icy covering instead. Though problematic in its own right, the brittle ice was far easier to deal with. Unlike the bone, the frozen water could be fixed in the blink of an eye, a quick, effortless burst of magic.


    It was perfect, save for the change to its center of gravity. Claire adjusted its shell and gave it another swing, but it still didn¡¯t feel right. Again and again, she repeated the process, but something always felt off.


    Five failed attempts led the lyrkress to start grumbling.


    Fifteen made the veins in her forehead budge.


    And fifty was when she finally gave up.


    Throwing the cudgel at a nearby tree, she leaned back into the mud and stared up into the marshy meadow¡¯s murk. Nothing was working. It simply never felt right in her hands.


    ¡°I don¡¯t even remember how it¡¯s supposed to feel anymore.¡±


    The weapon floated over to Claire¡¯s extended hand and landed in her palm. It began to change, slowly but surely, as she focused her gaze on its tip. The ice attached to its far end warped; it was soon forged into a rounded blade resembling one of the axes she had found in Crabby Crags.


    Lazily getting to her feet, she walked over to the nearest tree and gave the weapon a swing. It drew a massive arc in the air before cleaving the poor maple that was its victim in two.


    Though it still didn¡¯t feel natural, she was pleased to discover that its new form was significantly less obtuse. Taking away the expectation accompanying its mace-like shape helped curb the uncanny distribution of its weight. Durability was still a problem, but she was getting quite proficient at repairing her icy creations on the fly. The spears she had used against the frogs had only lasted as long as they did because she kept refreezing and reshaping them. The same could be done for the axe, so long as she put enough time and effort into memorizing its form.


    Too bad I can¡¯t make it out of true ice. She stared at the supposedly indestructible shard in her chest, the only part of her body to have survived Shoulderhorse¡¯s little accident. Or can I?


    Activating thermodynamic regulation, she emitted a wave of hot air and melted any of the ice still clinging to the mace. Once it was dry, she channeled all five points of divinity into her shard, expanding both its length and its diameter to over three times their defaults. Its shape was altered as well, becoming more of a wedge than a spike. She tried to stare at it to get a better grasp of its new form, but the change in its size threw her already wobbly legs off balance and sent her plummeting into the mud.


    Her face warped into a scowl as she pushed herself back off the ground. The shard¡¯s new weight was notable, but not entirely unmanageable; keeping her back straight was only slightly more challenging than maintaining her humanoid form. Its difficulty diminished with time, but only because her center of balance shifted. Half her body almost seemed to freeze as the true ice slithered down her arm, filled the mace¡¯s cracks, and grew up its length.


    A brand new blade sprouted from its tip, a hefty robust edge that was unlikely to shatter or break, even if used to parry an oversized tongue. Moving her arm was somewhat difficult with the icy fetters wrapped around it, but a bit of practice quickly proved that they were less restrictive than they seemed at first glance. They would dig into her arm whenever she tried to suddenly switch her grip, but they would never go as far as piercing the skin. It was akin to how her fangs didn¡¯t cut her lips, even though the sharpened points were often in contact with the supple flesh. The sensation bothered her at first, but it went away after she delivered another dozen or so haphazard swings.


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    Smashing the axe against a boulder confirmed its durability. The weapon remained in perfect form, even after she bludgeoned the oversized rock and shattered it into a burst of shrapnel. The blade was blunt at first, but that changed as she closed her eyes and focused solely on the sensation she experienced as she cut down the trees in her path. Its edge grew sharper and more deadly with each slice. Before long, it went from needing ten strokes to down a plant to gliding straight through the wood with surgical precision. The squirrels and birds chirped and chittered at her, as if to condemn her for the destruction of their property, but she ignored them and continued pushing through the forest, felling every tree she happened to cross. A few light adjustments were made after each; saplings and great oaks alike were used to improve the weight and feel of her weapon.


    ¡°Claire! Stop! You¡¯re getting too close to the hollow!¡± A voice prompted the lyrkress to turn around. Sylvia, its owner, popped out of the undergrowth and frantically waved both her arms.


    ¡°How long have you been there?¡±


    ¡°I just got here! Burr, er, my fat uncle, woke me up in the middle of a nap and told me you suddenly started cutting down trees for no reason!¡± Dropping back down to all fours, the fox breathed a sigh of relief and started walking over.


    ¡°There¡¯s a reason. I was testing something.¡±


    The lumberjack raised her axe, but Sylvia¡¯s gaze never managed to get past her shoulder.


    ¡°Woah¡­ what happened to your arm?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± Claire turned her eyes on the limb. ¡°Probably.¡±


    A pair of icy vines spiralled around the limb, running all the way from her shoulder to the palm of her hand. That, she had expected. Claire had explicitly instructed the shard to travel down the limb so she could reinforce the bone. What she hadn¡¯t expected was for her magic circuitry to go haywire. The pathways in her arm were pulsing with a blue and yellow glow. Claire wasn¡¯t particularly concerned. It didn¡¯t feel like anything was wrong, even though the limb appeared as would a piece of blatant evidence to the contrary.


    ¡°Well ummm¡­ okay, I guess.¡± The fox craned her neck and shifted her gaze downwards. ¡°Wow, that¡¯s a really ugly axe.¡±


    Claire pressed her free hand against the side of her head and steadied herself. ¡°It¡¯s a weapon. It doesn¡¯t need to look good if it works.¡±


    ¡°Yes it does! A scary weapon can intimidate the crap out of whoever you¡¯re fighting. Yours is just going to make people think that you couldn¡¯t find anything better.¡±


    ¡°Who cares?¡± Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°A weapon is a weapon.¡±


    It¡¯s not even ugly. It¡¯s a part of my shard, and my shard is very pretty.


    Sylvia shrugged. ¡°Oh yeah, do you wanna learn how to fly now?¡±


    The half-cervitaur¡¯s eyes moved towards the trees, many of which happened to be lying on the ground for no explicable reason. ¡°Is there enough space here?¡±


    ¡°Yeah! You don¡¯t really need that much since we¡¯re just going to get started. You have detect force magic, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Okay! Then it should be easy. All you have to do is sense the force that¡¯s holding you to the ground and negate it.¡±


    ¡°How do I negate it?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ don¡¯t you have negate force? It should be one of the first spells you get.¡±


    ¡°Only resist.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ I guess you¡¯re gonna have to level it then. It should evolve once you max it.¡±


    Claire raised a brow. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to level it.¡±


    ¡°You just have to try to resist the force I was just talking about. It shouldn¡¯t be too bad. Won¡¯t take more than a week if you try hard enough. It gets even faster if you¡¯re trying to do it when you do other stuff.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Claire closed her eyes and centered her mind on the tether that kept her bound to the ground. But try as she might, the lyrkress was unable to keep her attention focused. A sense of discomfort caused her to stray every time she tried, a blanket of exhaustion that killed all her motivation.


    She tried opening her eyes and seeking a distraction, but they refused to move. Her body simply didn¡¯t want to budge.


    A strange burning sensation flared up within her chest and spread through her arm.


    The same searing pain that had assaulted her the previous night.


    The pain that had come with her newfound divinity.


    Recognising the source of her suffering lifted the veil clouding her eyes. She finally understood that it was all because she had overused her divinity. The seemingly undue pain was the same adverse phenomenon that would come with emptying the entirety of one¡¯s mana pool too many times in rapid succession. The unfamiliar energy was eating away at her magic circuits, burning them from within with its fiery might.


    The raging inferno didn¡¯t begin to calm until she undid the shard¡¯s transformation and reverted it to its usual size. A second wave of relief came over her as her body followed suit and returned to its lyrkrian form. But it wasn¡¯t enough. The world spun as her knees buckled and collapsed beneath her weight.


    ¡°Ummm¡­ Claire? Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Her chest heaved up and down as she slithered to the nearest tree and leaned her back against it. ¡°I just need a moment to catch my breath.¡±


    Claire closed her eyes and focused on her chest. A sharp pain coursed through her system with every breath, starting at the tips of her fingers and rippling throughout the rest of her body. She could feel the sensation traversing her magic circuits, scorching them with each vibrant pulse. Malleable as she was, the lyrkress struggled to adapt. Channeling her mana through her circuits didn¡¯t help. Taking control of them only pained her more.


    Inaction, on the other hand, provided a means of recovery. The burning agony slowly abated on its own, giving way to an echo of lethargy, a renewed sense of demotivation that left the force mage feeling like a frozen tuber, buried six feet underground.


    ¡°Claire! Get up! You can¡¯t just fall asleep in the middle of the forest! It¡¯s not even comfy here!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not falling asleep.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re lying down with your eyes closed. Falling asleep is the only thing you could be doing!¡±


    Sylvia pawed at her face, but Claire didn¡¯t budge. Her arms were too busy being stuck underneath her for her to push the fox away. ¡°I¡¯m pretending to be a potato.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know what that¡¯s supposed to mean.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not moving until it¡¯s spring.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not how potatoes work! They sprout almost all year round!¡±


    ¡°Not in winter.¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t be winter for another six months!¡± Sylvia grabbed one of the lyrkress¡¯ cheeks and pulled.


    ¡°It¡¯s winter right now. I¡¯m touching a piece of ice.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked and looked around, her gaze eventually settling on Claire¡¯s chest. ¡°Wait! That doesn¡¯t count! It¡¯s literally a part of your own body!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s cold. I don¡¯t want to get up.¡± Smiling faintly, she powered through the haze clouding her mind and pushed herself off the ground.


    ¡°You can¡¯t just say that and get up right after!¡±


    ¡°Good point.¡± The half-snake formed a pillow with her hands and laid them on the forest floor. She moved to lie on top of them, but a bubble appeared out of thin air and stopped her from reaching the ground. ¡°Useless fox. Can¡¯t even let me sleep.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shut up, Claire! You¡¯re the one that¡¯s being weird. I know you don¡¯t feel right, but there¡¯s a nice soft bed like two minutes away!¡± grumbled the useless fox. ¡°I can help you walk and stuff if you want.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need any more rest.¡± All signs of sleepiness vanished from the lyrkress¡¯ face as she got back to her feet.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Sylvia narrowed her eyes as she directed her gaze to the half-cervitaur¡¯s gait, nodding only after a brief delay. ¡°What happened anyway?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°It can¡¯t have been nothing! Your arm was totally messed up!¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with it.¡±


    Claire slowly raised the limb to eye level and carefully looked it over. It wasn¡¯t pulsing anymore; her magic circuits were no longer visible and the golden light that had lit them aflame had vanished without a trace.


    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t need any healing?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Raising both arms overhead and pushing her front legs forward, she stretched out her back and loosened up her muscles. ¡°Let¡¯s go. I want to kill a mirewulf.¡±


    Sylvia froze where she stood and blinked twice before finally dredging up a response. ¡°R-right now? Aren''t you tired?¡±


    ¡°Right now.¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t think you should. You¡¯re just going to get yourself killed! They¡¯re really strong and you should wait until you¡¯re feeling better.¡±


    ¡°Exercise is going to help me feel better.¡±


    Sylvia lifted one ear and lowered the other. ¡°Jumping into a fight with a high level monster sounds a little too stressful to be exercise. Can you like¡­ run or something?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°You really don¡¯t have to push yourself so hard. It¡¯s not like the mirewulves are going to go away.¡±


    ¡°I know. But I want to hit something.¡± Claire took a step forward, only to immediately trip over her own feet and fall face-first into a bush.


    ¡°Go hit some more trees then!¡± Sylvia pointed a paw at a patch of woodland in the direction opposite the hollow.


    ¡°It needs to be something that¡¯ll give me levels. I¡¯m not getting them fast enough.¡±


    ¡°You should really get some rest first¡­¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Now you¡¯re just being stubborn!¡± The fox stood up on her hind legs and put her front paws on her hips. ¡°Okay, fine! You know what? If you¡¯re going to be stubborn, I¡¯m going to be stubborn too!¡±


    Straightening her back and placing one hand on her chest, the bard took a breath and started to sing. A warm melody, made up of soft, long notes, rang throughout the forest. The lyrics were distinctly Elvish, made up of lengthy guttural sounds that came not from the throat, but the chest.


    Log Entry 2711


    You have been afflicted with intense drowsiness.


    Claire¡¯s head started to spin as Flux¡¯s voice echoed through the back of her mind. She tried plugging her ears, but the lullaby pierced right through her defenses. Opening her mouth and shouting for the fox to stop was equally as ineffective. Her tongue was caught in her throat, too tangled for her to speak.


    ¡°Good night!¡± said Sylvia. Her tone was bright. Too bright. ¡°You can save all the fighting for when you wake back up. The giant frogs and wooden dogs will still be right there, waiting.¡±


    I want to fight them now.


    The lyrkress tried to hang on. She tried to push back and resist to no avail. Not even digging her teeth into her lips was enough to stop her mind from sinking into the darkness. Still, she didn¡¯t give up, not until she recalled that her inability to sleep had been the only reason she had escaped her bed in the first place.

 Chapter 98 - Dreams and Delusions

    Chapter 98 - Dreams and Delusions


    Stupid fox.


    Claire failed to voice a grumble as she opened her eyes to see a familiar garden. Roses, lilies and azaleas lined a long corridor made of greenery. They grew in carefully partitioned patches of soil, their leaves green and their petals in a perpetual full bloom. Their branches were perfectly trimmed; not a single leaf was allowed to stretch into the stone-paved aisle. A familiar, rabbit-eared figure stood at the far end of the perfectly maintained courtyard. The tutor¡¯s frame was adorned by her usual garments, a tall felt hat with its pointed tip trimmed and a long dress made of a soft, expensive leather. Both pieces were dyed an unnaturally deep shade of black¡ªthey almost seemed to suck the light from their surroundings. It was a luxurious enchantment that made her appear as would a shadow¡¯s incarnate, a spell woven into the fabric¡¯s very fibers by a highly skilled tanner.


    Her presence was nothing out of the ordinary, but her behaviour led the observer to narrow her eyes. The country¡¯s one and only Grand Magus was sniffing one of the roses with a line of drool dribbling down the corner of her mouth. Eyes shifting from side to side, she pulled out her wand, tapped her chest, and vanished into thin air, with the innocent flower¡¯s petals following soon after.


    Claire turned around and walked away with a snicker, as she always did when she found Allegra doing something irresponsible. Her hooves clicked against the cobblestone path, she made her way to the manor¡¯s nearest entrance¡ªa large open window¡ªand climbed inside. She moved right past the servants, sparing them only a glance apiece as she hurried through the manor. Because the flower incident was one she vividly recalled from her childhood.


    Her heart pounded as she galloped through the hallway and rocketed up the stairs. Two familiar turns later, she slid to a stop right in front of her mother¡¯s room and took a deep breath. Unlike the last time, the door was exactly as she remembered it, four meters tall and wide enough to fit a trio of warriors standing shoulder to shoulder. Violet Eurylia Augustus was etched front and center, carved right into the dark cherrywood entryway.


    Grabbing the handle, Claire took a deep breath, twisted it open, and stepped inside. It was a single swift motion, completely uninterrupted until she closed the door behind her. A practiced motion, graceful enough to impress the lady that was the room¡¯s master. Slowly, she gulped and looked up with a hopeful gaze.


    And found nothing.


    The room was empty, devoid of everything and anything. There wasn¡¯t even any furniture. The bed, the dresser, the drawers, and the mirror were all missing. Not even the carpet remained. It too had been taken, replaced by a polished but plain hardwood floor.


    Spinning around, she found that even the entrance was gone, a fate shared by every last window. She doubled back several times, but she couldn¡¯t find anything but floor, wall, and ceiling, no matter where she looked. Each time she turned around, the three pieces blended. Forming a strange mix of things, difficult, but not impossible to discern.


    Intuitively, she recognized that there were three distinct pieces. But none bore a distinct start or end. They simply were.


    ¡°She isn¡¯t here.¡±


    A dark giggle came from directly behind her.


    She tried craning her neck to meet the speaker, but her body refused to listen. It almost felt like her head was being held in place by something she couldn¡¯t see. Turning herself with magic proved far more successful. She was able to spin around by applying a rotational force with her tail and twisting her body. But there was nothing behind her, nothing but the same indiscernible mess that flooded her surroundings.


    The wloor and the feiling were gone, no longer discernible from the call that bound them.


    For a few counts, that was how it stayed.


    A dull pain echoed through the back of her mind as she struggled to separate the floeiling from the calloor. But the concepts remained fully intertwined, mixing and watching until the spark in her chest flared to life.


    With her next breath, everything was reverted to its rightful state. The windows, the door, and the furniture returned, all at once, with each piece arranging itself precisely where it belonged. Violet was the only thing still missing from the picture, and the halfbreed had already expected as such. She knew exactly  why she was nonpresent. Allegra¡¯s hat had given it away. The latest iteration was one she had only acquired after the duchess had passed on.


    ¡°I just wanted to see her again.¡±


    The lyrkress froze. After a moment of fluttering her ears, she opened her mouth and made a random ¡°ahhh¡± sound, her eyes shooting wide open soon after. She wasn¡¯t supposed to be able to speak. Not while she was still asleep.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Continuing to mutter aloud, she stepped out from her mother¡¯s room and walked across the hall to enter her own. A quick scan was all it took for her to find herself lying down with her eyes closed, her breath steady, and a bag of ice on her head.


    The lyrkress cocked a brow and crossed her arms as she approached the bed. Staring herself in the face sent a shiver down her spine.


    Because it wasn¡¯t her.


    Its features were accurate, its ears were identical, and its proportions were perfect. But something about it simply felt wrong. Staring at the face produced a bizarre uncanny sensation that left her quaking in her non-existent boots.


    It couldn¡¯t have possibly been her.


    She didn¡¯t know how she knew. But she did.


    Her breath grew ragged as the thing started to stir.


    It was going to awaken.


    But it didn¡¯t. Everything faded to black just as its eyes began to open. Claire was left in a dark abyss, with no rhyme or reason to explain the dream she had just witnessed.


    ¡°It must have been a nightmare.¡± Mumbling to herself, she raised her head again as she caught a faint glow out of the corner of her eye.


    Looking forward, she found the usual phantom floating behind his body. His less-ethereal half stared at the usual artifact as he issued a set of instructions through another magical device. Unlike usual, the glowing box was completely lacking in obscurity. Its contents were crystal clear. And for once, she could see the tiny figure that was being controlled¡ªan artistic rendition of the only lyrkress she knew.


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    The illustration was demonstrating incredible flexibility in its attacks. It would punch its foe before spinning around, transforming midair and delivering a chain of kicks within the next quarter second. One particularly egregious attack involved grabbing the tiny, squirrel-shaped punching bag, throwing it into the air and skewering it with the sharpened tips of her flippers mid backflip. The displays were impressive, but they seemed impossible. She didn¡¯t think she was anywhere near as acrobatic as she needed to be to pull them off.


    Maybe if I used my magic.


    She began swinging her fists in an attempt to replicate the first sequence, but the translucent man raised a hand and stopped her. Slowly shaking his head, he pointed to the tapestry hanging on the wall. Her eyes started in one of the oddly coloured corners, where she found a painting of a massive maned cat whose jaws were dripping with drool. Her scales rose as she met its sinister, piercing, blood red eyes, warning her of impending danger. Averting her gaze immediately, she shied away from the predator and beheld at the painting¡¯s background, a tranquil village in the mountains, drawn with a fine brush. Large huts were built into the rocky forests, made of straw and wood. Some of the structures were fancier than others, suspended atop the clouds by a series of patchwork stilts.


    There were children running around the settlement. Some were playing with leather balls, while others were at work with their elders, tending to the water-flooded fields. Young or old, the four-legged creatures were all beaming. Even with the concerning carnal beast, the tapestry radiated little but peace and joy.


    Until it suddenly started to change.


    The blues and greens warped into hues of red, yellow, and orange as the tiny mountainside settlement was lit aflame. Smiles turned to cries of fear and terror; carrying only a few belongings on their backs, the villagers fled, quickly as they could. But the hunter spared them no mercy. Leaping from father to son and mother to daughter, the lion ate, smearing its mane red as it tore its fangs through their scales. Some tried to resist, but their antlers were broken, smashed to bits by the feline¡¯s bulky front paws.


    None were able to escape the carnage. The violence continued to contort the tapestry, with the violence lasting until there was not a single villager remaining.


    The lion then departed.


    And the peace returned.


    With all traces of the beautiful settlement vanishing beneath the growing greens.


    Turning away from it, she looked at the ghost, tilted her head, and scrunched up her brow. It took him a moment to catch her confusion; he didn¡¯t look away from the canvas until the colours faded. A mess of words escaped his lips, a half-audible mess of sounds, impossible to discern on their own.


    ¡°Beware the hunter.¡±


    The summary that appeared in her mind provided only three short notes. Claire was still confused, but the man was gone by the time she opened her mouth to complain. His spirit, his body, and his home were all swallowed by another veil of black.


    A familiar falling sensation overcame her, so she stuck out her arms and closed her eyes. When she next opened them, after a relatively damp impact, she found her view obscured by a curtain of leaves. She was tucked inside a bush with a pile of branches supporting her waist. There was no one else nearby, nor even anything remotely familiar. The darkwood¡¯s glowing mushrooms were nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by a dense jungle of undergrowth, most of it dyed in yellows and browns.


    ¡°She left me in the middle of the forest?¡± Suppressing the urge to yawn, she picked herself up off the ground and examined her surroundings. ¡°Why did I expect anything else?¡±


    It almost looked as if autumn had come to Mirewood Meadow. The trees were balding like middle-aged men, their leaves falling out by the handful with bare branches left in their wake. Both the marsh and the forest were littered with an excess of dead foliage. It was floating in the water, sitting atop the bushes, and completely covering the ground. The critters she saw running about, the squirrels and chipmunks, were all on the verge of morbid obesity. Their guts were wide enough to spill over their hips, a surefire sign that they were  ready for many a winter to come. There was even a family of bears wandering the forest. As usual, the fuzzy tubs of lard were skittish around centaurs. They ran for their lives the moment they were spotted by the halfbreed, with some even climbing up and subsequently collapsing a number of nearby trees.


    Claire slowly shook her head and watched them run off before finding a relatively flat patch of ground and spinning her mace. Following its instructions and heading to the left, she wandered straight through the woodland without any particular reservations. The trek lasted for what felt like the better part of an hour, but she didn¡¯t seem to get anywhere. The vegetation didn¡¯t change, nor did she encounter any of the usual monsters.


    The only alteration came in the form of the forest¡¯s vitality. Little by little, the headcount started to dwindle. The bears vanished first, followed soon after by the critters. And before long, even the birds were gone. Her surroundings became deathly silent; her own body was all she could hear, besides the rustling leaves and the billowing wind.


    Her scales stood on end as her eyes darted around the forest.


    From beyond the treeline, she saw a pair of massive jaws attached to a beast with crimson eyes. Its maw was still dripping with blood, with fragments of scales, antlers, and bone stuck between its finger-length teeth. A flick of the tongue informed her of its rancid breath; the sickly scent of carrion was detectable even from a dozen trees away.


    With an audible gulp, Claire turned tail and ran. The hand on her mace was immediately returned to her side as she changed her flippers into another set of legs and pumped them for dear life.


    Looking behind her, she found the predator giving chase.


    She darted past trees, leapt over rocks, and plowed straight through bushes.


    But it was always there.


    Right behind her.


    Its hungry eyes stared her down as the distance between them shrank.


    She pointed her tail at her back and boosted her speed to its limit.


    But not even that was able to stop its teeth from glancing off her scales.


    It continued to gain on her.


    Until she suddenly blinked awake.


    With a shout, she rolled out of her bed with her limbs flailing wildly and her body drenched in cold sweat. She panted heavily, eyes darting around the room. She checked the bed, the chair, the nightstand and the closet twice each before finally dropping her guard and climbing back up on the mattress, her breath still ragged and her heart still pounding.


    ¡°What was that?¡± Bringing a hand to her face, she sat up and took a moment to sort through the dream. Am I supposed to be watching out for fake lions? I don¡¯t get it.


    The room¡¯s door was flung open before she was finished putting her thoughts together. ¡°Good morning sleepyhead!¡± Sylvia walked in, leapt atop the bed, and sat down next to her. ¡°Are you feeling better?¡±


    Claire moved her arms around and stretched her back. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Really? You¡¯re still tired? That¡¯s weird¡­ It¡¯s been a whole sixteen hours.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not tired anymore.¡±


    ¡°Huh? But I thought you just said you aren''t feeling better.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡±


    The fox tilted her head. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°It means that you should never put me to sleep like that. Ever again.¡±


    Sylvia puffed up her cheeks. ¡°Oh, great. Now you¡¯re just being stubborn again.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± Claire tugged on the fox¡¯s face. ¡°Your stupid spell gave me a bizarre nightmare.¡±


    ¡°Huh? It was just a lullaby! If you had a weird dream, then that¡¯s your fault, not mine!¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have had it if you didn¡¯t put me to sleep.¡± Her expression still perfectly neutral, the lyrkress pulled a little harder.


    ¡°You clearly needed it!¡±


    ¡°Debatable.¡±


    ¡°Says who!?¡±


    ¡°Me.¡± The lyrkress put the fox down and got out of bed. ¡°Now let¡¯s go. I¡¯ve waited long enough. It¡¯s mirewulf time.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want to eat something first? You¡¯ve already skipped dinner, and fighting on an empty stomach sounds like a pain in the butt.¡±


    ¡°Good point.¡±


    After quickly praying to Flux and confirming that she had only gained a few skill levels from her frog harvest, the lyrkress walked over to the kitchen, popped open her authority skill, and summoned a basket of bread.

 Chapter 99 - Dreams and Delusions II

    Chapter 99 - Dreams and Delusions II


    ¡°Okay, there it is!¡± Sylvia whispered a shout as she pointed a paw at the only dry husk in an otherwise plentiful grove. ¡°Good luck! I¡¯ll bail you out if things start looking rough.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Well too bad.¡± The fox got up onto her hind legs, crossed her arms, and huffed. ¡°I didn¡¯t save you from the frog just so you could get yourself killed by some stupid mirewulf!¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh. I totally believe you.¡± With one last pout and an accompanying skeptical glare, the orange furball walked into a nearby bush and disappeared.


    Claire raised her ears, but trying to track Sylvia proved pointless. There weren¡¯t any sounds to be heard, no rustling, no footsteps, nothing. Her canine companion was already long gone, her paw prints the only evidence that she had even existed to begin with. Following the fox¡¯s departure was the immediate arrival of an even more annoying pair of replacements. Shouldersnake and Shoulderhorse appeared on her left and her right respectively. Both prodded her with their snouts and hooves, but neither said a word, keeping perfectly silent as she closed in on the clearing and took a second look at her prey.


    The darkness of the night did little to impede her perception. She couldn¡¯t see anything that even resembled a moon, but the starry sky kept the forest perfectly alight. Keeping low to the ground, Claire furrowed her brows and focused her gaze on the monster¡¯s key features.


    Standing at roughly four meters tall, its skeletal canine frame was made of twisted branches. The rafflesia bud on its head aside, the bizarre plant creature was severely lacking in colour. Its whole body was covered in shades of brown, no doubt in part due to the bits of dirt hanging off of its various pieces. Not even its eyes were any different. The empty sockets almost seemed like they were only present to aid in emulating a wolf¡¯s form. Just like its barren ribcage.


    Despite looking like an undead wolf, the plant-beast was no carnivore. The specimen that stood in the clearing downwind was eating the bark off a tree, as would a deer in the midst of winter.


    How am I supposed to kill it?


    Claire frowned, unsheathed her club, and turned it into an icy axe. Having already suffered from enough backlash for one day, she decided against leveraging her divinity and made it out of plain old untrue ice. Her other hand was kept free. Forging a second weapon would provide more range and versatility, but she wanted to initiate with a heavy sneak attack; a two-handed strike suited her purposes better than a two-weapon approach. A part of her had wanted to shout at the monster and challenge it to a head-on duel, but she didn¡¯t want to take any risks with something Sylvia had talked up and put on a pedestal. If it really was as strong as the fox touted, then every last bit of damage was sure to count.


    Climbing a nearby tree, the halfbreed applied a thin glaze of quicksilver to her icy weapon and emitted a blast of cold air to freeze it solid. A second layer of poison, a thick glaze of rocket fuel, was applied atop the metallic coat, just to give it an extra punch. Walking across a branch, she crept towards it with her breath held and her axe raised. Despite the wood¡¯s creaking, the creature remained unalerted to her presence. Its focus remained fixed on its meal, even as she got into the perfect position.


    After taking one last moment to look over its frame, she took aim, steadied her hand, and dropped. Her target was the thinnest part of its skeleton-like frame, the piece of spine connecting its rear end to its ribcage. All her skills flared to life as her axe flew through the air and landed a direct hit on its back.


    Unable to bear the force of the blow, her blade shattered as it made contact.


    Just like the mirewulf¡¯s spine.


    Its back split into two distinct pieces, both of which came untangled, crumbled into a mess of slackened vines. Knowing that all Llystletein monsters were ridiculously virile, she immediately fired a freezing ray from her chest, imbued with as much mana as the spell could handle.


    But it was completely and utterly unnecessary. Because a notification had played in her mind before the beam so much as began to take shape


    Log Entry 2712


    You have slain a level 142 Llystletein Mirewulf.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 5 points of agility


    - 14 points of dexterity


    - 18 points of strength


    - 3 points of wisdom


    It¡¯s dead? Already?


    Log Entry 2713


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Frostblight Lyrkress, has reached level 74.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Bloodthief, has reached level 75.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Vector Mage, has reached level 71.


    You have gained 27 ability points.


    The flower on the monster¡¯s head shriveled up and shrank as she stared blankly. I thought these things were supposed to be strong.


    ¡°Woah! What the heck? That was quick!¡± Sylvia popped out of a bush with a fish¡¯s tail hanging out of the corner of her mouth. ¡°I only looked away for a second!¡±


    Log Entry 2714


    You have unlocked a new spawnable drink item.


    ¡°I snuck up on it.¡±


    ¡°I know, but how did you know its weakness?¡±


    Log Entry 2715


    Assassinate has reached level 16.


    ¡°I just did.¡± The half-snake¡¯s gaze shot to her own fragile waist for a brief moment before returning to the corpse. ¡°What part counts as its flesh?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure, but probably the whole thing?¡±


    ¡°Then what part tastes the best?¡±


    Log Entry 2716


    Axe Mastery has reached level 9.


    ¡°Ummm¡­ Claire? You do know that mirewulves aren''t food, right?¡±


    ¡°My quest says I have to eat ten of them.¡±


    Sylvia scrunched up her face. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ gross.¡±


    Log Entry 2717


    Envenom has reached level 18.


    With a shrug, Claire popped one of the petals in her mouth and gave it a chew. For something that looked completely dried out, it was surprisingly juicy, but its flavour left much to be desired. Keeping her expression neutral was difficult, and swallowing was a struggle. The bitter, salty fluid that leaked from within the floral leaf was oddly lukewarm, and something about the taste made her want to retch. Still, she was eventually able to choke it down without letting her displeasure seep through her mask.


    Log Entry 2718


    Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts has reached level 18.


    ¡°Still better than the burnt fish.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    Log Entry 2719


    True Ice Manipulation has reached level 6.


    ¡°Yes. Barely.¡± Claire summoned a stream of stale water and took a long sip, holding the liquid in her mouth for several seconds before swallowing. ¡°Where¡¯s the next one?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be here soon.¡± Sylvia walked through a nearby tree. ¡°I¡¯m gonna vanish again. Scream if you need me!¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±


    Watching her go, Claire crossed her arms and lowered her gaze. Catching the tree-dog off guard seemed like the best use of her time, but she was hesitant to rely exclusively on the strategy. I doubt the lord will go down in one hit. I should try facing one head on. At least once.


    Stolen story; please report.


    The force mage raised her ears, but caught no signs of her next target. After a moment of consideration, she decided to focus on her axe. On its own, the haphazard repair process was something she could do in a heartbeat. Refining the weapon¡¯s appearance, on the other hand, was a whole time sink and a half. Evidently, Sylvia was not a fan of the bardiche-like rounded blade, so she sharpened out its edges and gave it a more rectangular form. Staring at it for a while, she concluded that a single one-sided blade was too vanilla, so she slapped a few spikes on top and attached a hook to the other side. She even layered the ice, adding extra bits to its base to make the blade seem heftier and more impressive. The redesign process lasted for a solid few minutes, ending only as her ears finally picked up on the unnatural rustling of leaves.


    Looking up, she saw the mirewulf making its way through the forest. The strange creature was travelling in a straight line, its body deforming when necessary to squeeze past the trees. Its feet were quiet, making only faint noises as they touched the ground, but its attempt at stealth was completely ruined by its otherwise thoughtless approach. Every branch it passed would shake and immediately alert everything around it.


    There was a brief moment of inaction as their eyes met, with the wooden dog the first to break contact. It tore its hollow sockets away from her piercing slits and cast its gaze towards the corpse.


    It was a momentary lapse in attention.


    And that was precisely why Claire attacked. Propelled by a burst of magic, she launched herself like an arrow and swung her axe at its skull. A freshly summoned Shouldersnake joined the assault, lunging off her arm with its fangs bared. It was an incredibly quick pair of attacks, backed by all the power her legs could muster.


    But she missed her mark.


    Even half distracted, the tree-dog had no trouble reacting. It twisted its neck to evade Shouldersnake and dodged the icy blade with an unhurried sidestep.


    Claire leapt back to avoid the retaliatory pawswipe that followed, but the roots that made up its claws extended midswing and caught her before she could retreat. Though blunt, the soft wood sliced through her leather armour and gouged her flesh; five crimson gashes ran diagonally across her chest, with only one cut short by the shard of true ice.


    Bloodied but not discouraged, the halfbreed grit her teeth and pushed forward. She launched another attack, a swing aimed for the monster¡¯s neck. But again, the plant stepped out of the way. As far as speed went, she was completely outclassed¡ªa fact the mirewulf also seemed to recognise.


    Leveraging its clear advantage, the misshapen treant went on the offensive and swiped its claw again. The second attack was just as quick as the first, but Claire blocked it with her axe. Even with all its layers, the weapon was unable to hold beneath the force of the blow; the second vine left a crack, the fourth broke a piece off the blade, and the fifth shattered it altogether.


    So she threw it away.


    The axe-mace had been her last weapon, the only one not inadvertently sacrificed to the eldritch frog. But Claire casually discarded it all the same. Melee combat had already proven futile; there was no point in insisting. Because at the end of the day, a battlemage was still a mage.


    Leaning into the mystic arts, she cast a trio of spells. With her left hand, she magically pulled on a branch and obscured the mirewulf¡¯s line of sight. With her right, she applied a vector to the creature¡¯s tail and threw it off balance. And with her shard, she fired a beam of magic, a point-blank freezing ray that not even its speedy target was able to avoid.


    The spell landed dead center and encased one of the tree-dog¡¯s front legs in ice. It tried to put its weight on the limb nonetheless, only to have it shatter like the brittle blade it had broken just a few moments prior.


    Shouldersnake attacked as the monster stumbled. The serpent wrapped itself around the false canine¡¯s remaining front leg and locked it in place. A bite followed soon after, with all sorts of venom flowing straight into the plant¡¯s veins. Claire tried to approach the ligneous hound as it fell to its knees, but she was driven away. It lashed out every time she got too close, ensuring that she was kept at bay as the flower on its head began to shift.


    Light gathered around the rafflesia as it opened up and blossomed. A countless number of pollen-like particles almost seemed to stream out into the environment. Thinking that the cloud was likely either toxic or a sort of magical attack, Claire backed off immediately and hid behind a tree. She didn¡¯t even look around the corner; Shouldersnake¡¯s eyes were the only ones she used.


    And that was precisely why she had failed to correctly discern its motive.


    The spirit serpent¡¯s head was directed up towards the creature¡¯s face. The dog¡¯s injuries were completely outside its view; it failed to catch the light that flooded and restored the monster¡¯s damaged legs. The only thing it managed to perceive was a change in colour¡ªit informed her that the wolf turned green for a few seconds before getting back up with its body fully intact.


    Realising that something was wrong, Claire poked her head out of cover. But it was already too late. The wounds she had inflicted had been undone. Cursing the useless snake internally, she aimed at its flower and fired another beam, but the spell was evaded with a simple twist of the neck. The decrease in agility accompanying its wounds was gone. It was already back in peak condition.


    So she opted for a full burst.


    Raising every magical outlet at her disposal, she took a deep breath and unleashed a hail of blades. Her tail, her hands, her mouth, her catalyst, her hooves, and her flippers each fired a distinct stream of projectiles. Rather than focusing them on a single point, she opted to criss cross. The sweeping barrage covered a large area, but the not-wolf was too agile. It hopped from tree to tree, evading every last missile that flew in its direction.


    Until she raised the bar.


    Nine streams were reduced to seven.


    But the total number of projectiles was more than doubled.


    Because Claire was not just, or even primarily, an ice mage


    Shouldersnake was the first part of the equation. The seemingly useless trump card tightened its grip right as the mirewulf was about to land. The serpent¡¯s muscles tore straight through the wood and snapped the limb in two.


    She extended all ten of her fingers as the beast collapsed onto its broken crutch. And with each locked on to a different piece of ice, she clenched her fists and pulled. Spreading her control so thin limited it greatly. She lost all semblance of precision, casting it to the winds in favour of raw power¡ªnot that it mattered. With a four meter tall target, precision was never a consideration.


    All ten bolts struck true. They pierced the swamp hound¡¯s rear, tearing its wooden hindquarters to bits. The pseudo canine¡¯s flower opened again, but she ignored it and focused on offense. Nine beams hammered the plant, with each slowly turning its flesh to ice.


    Checkmate seemed imminent.


    Until the mirewulf shrank.


    Shrugging off the encroaching ice, the vines and roots retreated into the ground, leaving only its flower above the surface. She moved her spells to target it, but they were countered with rays of light. The heat melted her magic, turning it from frost to vapour with a series of steamy explosions.


    Again, it started to glow with its few remaining brown pieces turning a brilliant emerald. Its surroundings, on the other hand, dimmed. They grew darker and darker with each passing moment. The stars almost seemed to vanish as the trees and shrubs were taken under the night¡¯s cowl. Even the shard¡¯s aura was stolen, its perpetual blue glow growing soft and dull.


    Something was happening, and Claire had no idea what it was.


    But she charged the monster nonetheless.


    The closer she got, the more her skin tingled and the higher her scales stood. Only upon firing a series of ice bolts did she finally realise that the mirewulf was sapping more than just the light; the frosty projectiles burst into a thousand particles and vanished into thin air before being sucked into the bud. The ice¡¯s glow revealed that the surroundings were dead. The vegetation around the wolf had perished as its flower blossomed to life, with those in its immediate vicinity suffering the most damage. Her own mana was also ticking down. The rate of consumption grew as she drew closer. Just as how the temperature fell. Notably enough for even the lyrkress to feel a chill.


    Several blasts of light flew from the rafflesia¡¯s vines and threatened to roast her alive. But she didn¡¯t falter or even bother with evasion. Because light magic was based in heat. And the mirewulf¡¯s spells were no more threatening than a wall made of molten rock.


    A few seconds was all she needed to reach it. Rearing her legs, she brought them down with a heavy stomp, backed by all the weight her body could muster. A pair of jaws appeared from within the bud and caught the limbs in the middle of their descent. The wooden fangs tore through the flesh, severing one hoof and leaving the other mangled.


    But they were soon restored.


    And not by a level up.


    When applied through phantom blade, bloodthief was just a weak enhancement, an extra that provided a small benefit without stealing the show. But in the hands of a Llystletein Bloodthief, everything changed. The skill was the class¡¯ namesake for a reason.


    Its secondary feature was difficult to use on an enemy capable of escaping her grasp or retaliating at close range. But the mirewulf was neither¡ªnot anymore.


    At level 17, the skill could drain and restore nearly a tenth of her maximum health per second. So long as she didn¡¯t break contact.


    Even with all the energy it stole from its surroundings, the mirewulf couldn¡¯t keep up. It couldn¡¯t heal itself as quickly as she drained it.


    But neither could it break free.


    It let go of her hooves and prodded them away with its tongue, but she forced them back down its throat.


    It pulled its roots out of the ground and cut off its own regeneration so it could lash at her with its whips, but Shouldersnake warded off its blows.


    And with the last dregs of its energy, it fired a final beam, a particularly powerful ray of light that burned through her resistance skill and left a mark on her flesh, but the scorched scales were quickly restored with stolen vitality.


    Left with no viable options, the monster was slowly robbed of every last drop of its health and reduced to a sad withered husk.


    Log Entry 2720


    You have slain a level 138 Mirewulf.


    Log Entry 2721


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Frostblight Lyrkress, has reached level 75.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Bloodthief, has reached level 76.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Vector Mage, has reached level 73.


    You have gained 36 ability points.


    Log Entry 2722


    Bloodthief has reached level 18.


    Log Entry 2723


    Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts has reached level 19.


    Log Entry 2724


    Spirit Sorcery has reached level 25.


    Log Entry 2725


    Thermodynamic Regulation has reached level 8.


    Log Entry 2726


    True Ice Manipulation has reached level 7.


    Log Entry 2727


    Vector Manipulation has reached level 28.

 Chapter 100 - Dreams and Delusions III

    Chapter 100 - Dreams and Delusions III


    With her back against a tree and her face twisted into a scowl, Claire reluctantly popped a mirewulf petal into her mouth and crammed it down her throat. She made sure not to chew, as to extract as little of the bud¡¯s disgusting flavour as possible, but her throat was not as robust as a pureblooded lamia¡¯s. Her gag reflex kicked in thrice before she finally managed to choke it down.


    Only after rinsing out her mouth did the lyrkress turn an eye on her surroundings. The second dog was dead, but Sylvia was nowhere to be seen. Her non-presence led Claire to furrow her brow and scan her surroundings with a skeptical gaze. Is she planning something? Or is there another mirewulf coming?


    Whatever the case, the bloodthief decided that it was going to be Future Claire¡¯s problem and got back to working on her axe. Repairing the damage dealt by the mirewulf took very little time. It was a few seconds¡¯ worth of work at most, but she couldn¡¯t remember the weapon¡¯s exact shape, so she removed any remaining ice and started from scratch. All in all, attempt number two went far more smoothly than its pioneering predecessor. She made a fancy blade in no time flat, topped it with a series of half-practical decorations, and slapped a hook on the side opposite its edge. Technically, it was done, but examining the weapon left her unsatisfied, so she once again melted it down and began the forging process anew.


    The silence that came with the near countless repetitions left the halfbreed feeling refreshed. The lack of an intrusive sidekick was a welcome change. That wasn''t to say she disliked the fox¡¯s company; teasing the furball was certainly an entertaining pastime in its own right, but the peace and quiet was every bit as cathartic and enjoyable.


    After what felt like the better part of an hour, Claire finally arrived at a design that was equal parts pretty and practical. It was of roughly the same shape as before, but sported a slightly longer blade with a more robust, spiked counterweight. After waving it around and felling an odd tree or two, she nodded, undid her magic, and strapped it to her back. A quick crack of the neck later, she returned to the mirewulves¡¯ corpses and retrieved what parts she could. To the untrained eye, all of the monsters'' parts appeared fairly similar, but picking them up revealed that there were distinct pieces with different properties and functions. The roots that made up their skeletons were hard, while their claws remained supple and flexible. From the pair, she retrieved just two items, a whip made from a dextrous tail, and a cudgel that had once served as a hind leg, with both coming from the first mirewulf to perish. The second plant¡¯s body was unsalvageable. Flower aside, all its parts crumbled to dust the moment she touched them. The bloom itself was practically useless; it was too soft to be kept as a weapon and too frail to be made a means of defense. Still, she stuffed a petal or two into a freshly formed pocket. Who knows? If I¡¯m lucky, they might even keep Mittens away.


    Claire waited around for a little longer, but mirewulf number three never showed up, so she decided to take matters into her own hands. Giving all her belongings a final once over, the vector mage got to her feet and wandered through the forest.


    She couldn¡¯t help but take on her humanoid form and turn her cloak back into a mantle as she recalled the state she had been in just two weeks prior. Back then, even the ravens had been notable threats. There had been little choice but to sneak around and avoid them. With the status quo as it was, however, they avoided her. She could hear them squawking off in the distance, but they fled every time she approached. It was almost as if they knew that any she caught unawares would be murdered without a second thought.


    The lyrkress¡¯ wayward stroll led her to stumble across another five mirewulves, three of which were immediately assassinated without a sound. Though given the opportunity to engage, the remaining two were not much better off; they were also put down in short order. Her second encounter had already taught her everything she needed to know. They were fast, but their attacks were weak. Most of their levels went into their ability to drain the energy from their surroundings. It was an interesting concept that reminded her of her own thieving abilities. But in combat, it was practically useless. A mirewulf that had to resort to anchoring itself in the dirt was a mirewulf already on its back foot.


    She had no doubts that a less temperature-resistant combatant would struggle against an ingrained tree-dog. They were difficult to approach. Their surroundings were freezing cold and their most powerful heat rays put even molten lava to shame. They were also resistant to long-ranged attacks. Magic would be rendered impotent and consumed, whereas physical projectiles were intercepted by their roots. But as the high elf had stated, compatibility was key. And a mirewulf had nothing on an anomalous moose-snake resistant to temperatures in both extremes.


    Claire was glad to capitalise on the easy experience, but frankly, it was too easy. The buccaneers were much more challenging, so long as she refrained from lighting them on fire. Locating and exterminating the wooden dogs felt too much like a chore; the procedure left her feeling more inclined to nap than continue. If not for the inflated rate of growth, pushing forward would have been a hard fought struggle¡ªnot that there was much else for her to do.


    Looking back, the lyrkress found that life in the library was just as bland as it was action-packed. There was hardly any entertainment. Even the citadel, the only place that seemed to bear a tiny semblance of civilization, was completely devoid of any fun facilities. There were no plays, no operas, and no exclusive events reserved for members of high society. The only arena had belonged to the borroks, but it was already no more; the colosseum and all its gladiators had both been buried under a layer of volcanic ash. Socialising was just about the only source of entertainment, and the blueblood had already had her fill.


    No wonder Sylvia wanted to play tag. The only other things I can think of are swimming with the cows and playing pranks.


    Breathing a sigh, she extended her mantle, returned to her lyrkrian form, and got right back to experimenting with her various abilities. She had already spent far too long working on her axe, so she decided that it was time to try something new. Her attention was shifted to the elephant in the room¡ªher runecloak. The magically enhanced overcoat was overflowing with untapped potential and there was no reason to see it wasted.


    She was already relatively proficient when it came to making rusty iron gauntlets and soft silken nightgowns, but she had yet to create any decent armour. The best she could do was leather, but the leather that she was accustomed to was more meant for luxury than it was for defense. It was far too soft to offer any real protection. A metal bulwark was the ideal she had in mind, but she couldn¡¯t quite get it to work the way she wanted. The only full suit she managed to make was rusty enough to belong in a dumpster.


    As a whole, the problem stemmed from her lack of familiarity. She knew how armour was supposed to look, and she could even recognize the various provinces and territories that different designs came from, but she had never worn any herself. The only pieces she had ever touched were the ones her father had left on display, and she didn¡¯t have a strong enough impression to imagine the material in vivid detail.


    Such a lack of precision would hardly have mattered had she been a painter. Her creative liberties could have filled in the blanks and provided a final result that echoed as larger than life, but Claire was not an artist and her brush required specifics. She couldn¡¯t simply make something up and call it a day; the desired result had to be pictured with precision. Had she not been in direct contact with the material, transformations of both iron and stone would have remained beyond her reach.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Focusing on the former material, she set the starting line at her previous failure and created a thick suit of rust. Large chunks of iron appeared atop the cloak, bolted themselves to her body, and formed a series of plates that ran all the way from her tail to her shoulders.


    A sigh escaped her dinky helmet as she was immediately exposed to all the armour¡¯s problems. The metal was modeled after a sample torn from a buccaneer. Even at its thinnest, it had a thickness of at least two or three centimeters. Moving was a struggle; lifting her arm was strenuous and required excessive, wasteful exertion. Adding to the difficulty was an unworkable layer of red that covered every last bit of the iron slab¡¯s surface. Claire had tried to get rid of it on a number of occasions, but it wasn¡¯t possible. She couldn¡¯t remember what the metal was supposed to feel like without its spiky brown bits. The abrasive overcoat didn¡¯t just impede her movements. It was also uncomfortable. Corroded iron would rub against her every time she tried to do anything even in spite of the linen layer coating the armour¡¯s interior. She didn¡¯t mind it when it scraped her scales, but her skin would scream for the sweet release of death every time it made contact with the rust.


    ¡°What am I doing? I don¡¯t even like full plate armour.¡± Claire turned her helmet back into a hood and peeled it back. With the sudden increase in her field of view and her ears no longer half-deafened, she noticed a mirewulf attempting to sneak up on her. It was on its tiptoes, a few dozen meters away, slowly circling around to her rear.


    It attacked her as soon as it realised that the jig was up, pouncing with its claws bared.


    There was more than enough time for Claire to leap out of the way, but the armour kept her anchored to the ground. Its thick but brittle plates were torn apart by the whip claws, leaving her with a broken arm and a headache that had nothing to do with any of her injuries.


    Heaving another sigh, the halfbreed turned the rusty deathtrap back into a cloak and moved onto dispatching her next victim.


    ____


    ¡°That everything for today, Miss Cedr?¡±


    ¡°It is. Thank you, Tim.¡± Allegra responded to the gruff shopkeeper with a smile as she reviewed the items placed on the counter. ¡°I¡¯ll stop by again if I need anything else.¡±


    Almost all the materials she needed were present and accounted for, no doubt in part due to the shopkeeper¡¯s excellence. As advertised, Timmolt¡¯s Briar was a witch¡¯s best friend. Its shelves were stocked to the brim with specialty goods from all corners of Mara. The merchant in question had somehow managed to acquire seven whole bottles of an elder pixie¡¯s dust, five of which had just become property of the Grand Magus. The only missing ingredients were regulated goods that could only be acquired from a licensed apothecary.


    ¡°Delivered up to Augustus Manor?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Of course,¡± replied the mage.


    ¡°Then it¡¯s gonna cost ya a sword and three daggers.¡±


    The bulky centaur at the desk snorted as the witch fumbled with her wallet and struggled to produce the requested coinage. Four finger-length blades were eventually placed on the counter, with one much thinner and shinier than all the others. After examining each and weighing them to ensure that none had been clipped, he nodded briefly and put them away.


    ¡°One of the boys will have it brought over by evening.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Tipping her hat to express her gratitude, as all cottontail mages did, the rabbit lady squeezed past a petrified lizardman, ducked under a frozen treant and stepped over a bottled slime before finally making her way out the door.


    As the shop¡¯s bell rang behind her, she pulled her hat over her eyes and walked down the busy street. Centaurs, cottontails, and thorae were rushing along to their destinations. With few exceptions, the busy urbanites spoke only to their companions. Not even shop owners called to strangers, opting instead to let their signage pay its due. Those that did speak did so quietly, with their voices blending in with the city¡¯s dull drone.


    It only took a few turns for her to find herself in a district with all sorts of people doing business out in the open. Huskars were selling their prided cured meats to stereotypically glutinous halflings, satyrs were pestering harpies to pay their overdue loans, and humans were jeering at nymphs in a desperate attempt to solicit their attention.


    All sights that could only ever be seen in the slums.


    Huskarian cuisine was odorous, so their establishments were often driven out of high-end neighbourhoods by unhappy cottontails. Satyrs shied away from centaurs out of fear of being mocked. And humans often found themselves removed and banned from a wide variety of thoraen establishments, courtesy of the two-legged race¡¯s characteristic perpetual estrus.


    Without looking at any of the signs, she made three quick turns, walked halfway down an abandoned alley and faced a stone wall almost exactly like any other. The only remarkable feature was a piece of graffiti that lay close to the ground, a painting depicting a small clay jar filled to the brim with grasses and flowers. Taking a moment to whisper a spell under her breath, Allegra walked straight into¡ªthrough¡ªthe brick and entered the shop hidden on the other side.


    ¡°Oh, you showed up in person? Fancy that.¡± An old grug croaked at her as she stepped through the invisible doorway. ¡°And here I was, thinking that I was going to be stuck dealing with that servant of yours for the rest of my pitifully short life.¡± She leaned forward and rested her froggy face on a pair of cat-like paws, prompting the beads that made up her necklace to rattle.


    ¡°Good evening, Madame Merdle.¡± said the rabbit. ¡°It hasn¡¯t been that long. I was just here in person last month.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a long time to me. We grugs only live for two weeks, if we can¡¯t ascend.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Genne, I know. You remind me every time I visit.¡±


    The two exchanged a pair of blank stares before breaking into laughter. Meeting in the middle of the shop, they shared a hug and moved over to a counter at the back of the store.


    ¡°I heard about the incident.¡± Her mantis-like wings twitching, the grug produced a pair of cups, sat down, and filled each with a bright yellow liquid tapped from the keg on her desk. ¡°Were you caught in it?¡±


    ¡°I was barely affected. But the others¡­¡±


    The grug clutched her stomach and brayed. ¡°That divine protection of yours sure seems to come in handy. Almost makes me wish I was one of Builledracht¡¯s apostles myself.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t as good as it sounds.¡± The rabbit lady¡¯s ears drooped. ¡°The Church of Order has offered its assistance, but it¡¯ll still take months for everyone to be cured.¡±


    ¡°A few months is better than nothing. Most don¡¯t ever get help.¡± Genevre took a sip from her cup. ¡°How¡¯s your apprentice? The duke¡¯s kid.¡±


    Allegra twitched and dropped the cup she had at her lips. A quick wave of the wand was the only thing that stopped it from hitting the ground.


    ¡°Not good then, I assume.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s fine.¡± The cottontail¡¯s pulled her hat over her eyes. ¡°But I don¡¯t think she¡¯ll be allowed out of the manor for another week, maybe two.¡±


    ¡°That bad? I¡¯m guessing she¡¯s the one that botched the ritual then.¡± Genevre chuckled. ¡°Always funny to see it happen to the young ones. You should bring her over sometime, maybe let me help you fix some of her bad habits.¡±


    ¡°Maybe next time.¡± Gulping down her drink, an exceptionally sweet mead, the rabbit stood up from the counter and walked over to one of the shelves. ¡°I¡¯m in a bit of a hurry today. Would you mind if I just grab what I need and go?¡±


    ¡°Of course not. Did you need anything from the back?¡±


    ¡°Not this time.¡±


    Allegra quickly grabbed the things she needed and placed a spear-shaped coin on the counter. ¡°Hold onto the change for me. I¡¯ll be back in a few weeks.¡±


    Genevre placed a hand on her old friend¡¯s shoulder. ¡°And I¡¯ll be here. No matter what you need.¡±


    With a forced smile, the rabbit gave the grug another quick hug before wordlessly making for the door. Only upon exiting, and stepping far, far away, did she finally raise her voice.


    ¡°I need a new job.¡± She put the processed mandrake parts in her purse as she retraced her steps and returned to the wealthier part of town. Her ears still drooping, she looked up at the three specks of rock looming overhead¡ªthe fortresses floating over the city¡ªand grimaced. ¡°Maybe one that doesn¡¯t involve killing children.¡±

 Chapter 101 - Dreams and Delusions IV

    Chapter 101 - Dreams and Delusions IV


    The sun began to rise as Claire made her way through the forest. With the sudden reduction in darkness came the usual ringing of bells, but the lyrkress was unbothered. She had already been focusing on the vector that kept her attached to the ground and selecting it took no more than half a heartbeat.


    Despite the fox¡¯s explicit recommendation, she had forgotten to work on the resistance skill, recalling it only as she ran out of things to kill. It had been over an hour since she saw her last mirewulf and the area as a whole remained almost entirely monster free. There were still a few alligators and frogs hanging around in the swamp, but most stayed out of her way.


    Her neglect had done little to stop the ability from making leaps and bounds of progress. It had gone from level 4 to level 9 in just thirty-odd minutes, and she could already feel the difference. Gravity¡¯s pull had weakened, even though its description listed no such effect.


    Following the sound of rushing water, the halfbreed soon found herself upon a large river, built right into the woodland. Its banks were slightly lowered, but the trees cared little, with many of them growing their roots straight into the waterway. A small orange and black critter was sitting by the bank, clutching its inflated gut as it lay belly-up. The vast majority of its body rested on the shore, but its face was kept underwater.


    It¡ªshe¡ªgot up, crawled over to a nearby sapling, and vomited all the contents of her stomach. The tree sucked up the liquid, drying itself and the soil around it in a matter of moments as it grew with unparalleled vigour. It went from a tiny sprout, less than half the fox¡¯s size, to its full height of four meters in the time it took Claire to take three steps. Once at peak height, it went on to grow a bright red flower that opened and closed several times before settling down and falling still.


    While the plant seemed perfectly content with the unnatural process, the fox did not. She coughed violently and grumbled aloud as she slowly dragged herself back to the shoreline. ¡°Damn it, Al! Why did you have to make making these things such a pain?¡±


    ¡°Is that why they taste like vomit?¡± The lyrkress could already feel a wave of nausea bubbling up from within her throat.


    ¡°Wh-wha!? C-Claire? When did you get here?¡± Sylvia stumbled as she spun around, nearly tripping over her own feet.


    ¡°Just now. When you barfed on the tree.¡±


    ¡°I umm¡­ dunno what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°You made it grow.¡±


    ¡°Must¡¯ve been some other fox.¡±


    ¡°It was you. I just watched you do it.¡± Claire rolled her eyes and picked the canid up by the scruff. ¡°Why are you making me walk around if you can just make them?¡±


    ¡°La la la! I can¡¯t hear you!¡± The fox shoved her paws in her ears, closed her eyes, and shook her head.


    Claire narrowed her gaze. ¡°Fine. Have it your way.¡± Her tail was brought forward, wrapped around the fox¡¯s torso, and used like a feather. She stuck the fuzzy tip under the fox¡¯s arms and wiggled it about to spark an uncontrolled fit of laughter.


    ¡°Claire! Stop! Please!¡± squealed the fox, between giggles. ¡°I can¡¯t breathe!¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    Sylvia tried to squirm out of the moose-snake¡¯s grasp, but her grip was solid as iron. ¡°If I can¡¯t breathe I¡¯ll die!¡± she wheezed.


    ¡°Then you better start explaining.¡±


    ¡°I will!¡± she wheezed. ¡°Just!¡± Twice. ¡°Let me go first!¡±


    The lyrkress furrowed her brow for a moment before twisting her face into a dark smile. ¡°After you learn your lesson.¡±


    She uncrossed her arms and threw them into the mix, burying them in the half-elf¡¯s fur and wriggling them about. Sylvia tried to protest, but the most she could do was wildly flail her limbs. Resistance was futile and there was no escape. She was destined to be tickled straight to high heaven. The extra stimulus made it impossible for the fairy to do anything but laugh, and Claire didn¡¯t stop and set her down until she was completely out of breath, collapsed onto her belly with her limbs sprawled across the shoreline.


    ¡°What the heck was that for?¡± wheezed the fox.


    ¡°Fun.¡±


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t fun! It was stressful.¡±


    Claire smiled impishly as she transformed into a humanoid, sat down, and crossed her legs. ¡°You were laughing.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I had fun!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± The lyrkress picked the fox up again and placed her in her lap. ¡°But you did. Just admit it.¡± Rather than tickling her again, she opted instead to scratch the spot behind the furball¡¯s ears.


    ¡°Okay, maybe a little¡­ But that didn¡¯t mean you had to keep tickling me until I thought I was gonna die!¡±


    ¡°Too bad.¡± Claire briefly pinched the fox¡¯s cheeks. ¡°So? Why did you make me wander around the forest?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s ¡®cause you¡¯re killing them way too fast! Mirewulves aren''t like the other monsters.¡± Sylvia pushed the other halfbreed¡¯s hands away from her face and curled up. ¡°They don¡¯t spawn naturally, so we have to make more of them when they die.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you just grow them later?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ maybe. But it¡¯d be a huge pain in the butt and I didn¡¯t want you finding out how we made them.¡±


    ¡°Too late. I watched you vomit on one.¡±


    ¡°Oh umm¡­ yeah.¡± The fox averted her gaze. ¡°You really shouldn¡¯t be eating them¡­ I don¡¯t think they¡¯re sanitary.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°It was for the quest.¡±


    The monster¡¯s taste still lingered in the back of her throat, but she did her best to ignore it, even as it crawled up her tongue. She tried to wipe the taste away by rubbing the fleshy sponge on the back of her teeth, but it didn¡¯t work. The flavour remained, intensifying every time she looked at the four-legged vomit machine.


    ¡°Yeah, umm¡­ Al¡¯s kinda gross sometimes.¡± Sylvia scrunched up her face. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure if it¡¯s really even worth it.¡±


    ¡°Well it¡¯s out of the way now,¡± said Claire. ¡°But I¡¯m going to keep killing them. They¡¯re good experience.¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t,¡± groaned Sylvia. ¡°Can¡¯t you go beat up the Green Belt¡¯s monsters or something instead?¡±


    ¡°How strong are they?¡±


    ¡°They should be a good bit tougher than the mirewulves. It¡¯s where you¡¯ll find all the ascended hellhogs and mimics and stuff,¡± said Slyvia. ¡°I promise they¡¯ll give more experience too.¡±


    The lyrkress crossed her arms and closed her eyes. ¡°Fine. But first, I want to head back to Sky Lagoon,¡±


    ¡°Oh umm¡­ sure, I guess. But why there?¡±


    ¡°Because I just remembered I owe Beckard a few things.¡± Claire placed a hand on one of the objects strapped to her thigh. ¡°And one of them is a piece of magic wood.¡±


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Oh yeah! Have you already figured out where you¡¯re going to get the water?¡±


    Smiling, Claire looked between the river and the fox.


    ¡°Wait, that doesn¡¯t count! It¡¯s loaded with magic when I barf it back out, but it doesn¡¯t count and you can¡¯t use it for rituals!¡±


    ¡°Then help me figure something out.¡±


    ¡°Ummmm¡­¡± Sylvia leaned forward and rested her chin on one of Claire¡¯s knees. ¡°Oh, I know! You might be able to get some from those giant tree deer thingies. Some of their fruits are filled with lots of juice, and I¡¯m pretty sure it counts since they¡¯re made of magic.¡±


    ¡°Then Sky Lagoon it is.¡±


    ___


    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t need to let your parents know you¡¯re leaving?¡± Claire swam her way up the tower as she looked at the fox beside her.


    It was a slow climb. Her flippers and her arms were both kept relatively still. Her only real source of momentum, her tail, lazily swished from left to right, generating just enough force to slowly float her up towards the surface.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine! I¡¯m not a kid and I used to vanish all the time even when I was.¡± Sylvia¡¯s ascent was just as relaxed. She was paddling with a slow, gradual motion, her legs completing a cycle only once every few seconds.


    The leisurely pace was one that had persisted through the entire trip. Claire was in no rush. She was already satisfied with the ten-odd levels she had gained in each class and saw no reason not to procrastinate. The vixen, on the other hand, was simply tired. Her stomach ached and her bladder was still throwing a fit. All the excess water she drank had left it worn out and abused.


    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe you¡¯re older than me,¡± mumbled Claire.


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean!?¡± The fox shouted indignantly as she stood up and placed a paw against her chest. ¡°Can¡¯t you see how grown up and beautiful I am?¡±


    Rolling her eyes, the lyrkress floated a hand over and gave the furball¡¯s nose a pinch. ¡°Looks aren''t everything. You¡¯re mentally stunted.¡±


    ¡°W-what the heck!? I¡¯m not mentally stunted!¡±


    ¡°Either that, or you¡¯re a psychopath.¡±


    ¡°Now you¡¯re just being bitter.¡±


    ¡°I wonder whose fault that is.¡± Claire slapped an incoming turpedo with her tail and shattered the poor leatherback¡¯s shell. ¡°Only a deranged madwoman would try to kill a pet for no reason.¡±


    ¡°Well I didn¡¯t do it for no reason, so I¡¯m not deranged!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what they all say.¡± She fired a blade of ice and shot it into the monster¡¯s face before it could turn around and swim away.


    Log Entry 2790


    You have slain a level 32 Turpedo.


    ¡°Well it¡¯s true!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it is.¡±


    ¡°Ughh¡­ You need to learn to respect your elders,¡± grumbled the fox.


    ¡°Never.¡±


    ¡°Come on!¡± Sylvia¡¯s ears drooped as she plopped her face into the side of her bubble. ¡°I have feelings too, you know?¡±


    ¡°I know. I wouldn¡¯t tease you if you didn¡¯t.¡±


    With a smug grin, Claire kicked her tail into high gear and propelled herself up towards the surface. She zoomed right past every rock-turtle along the way and burst out onto the cliff so she could greet the sun. But it wasn¡¯t there. Its warm rays were nowhere to be seen, hidden far beyond the dark, stormy sky. Massive black clouds rained lightning on her parade as tall, heavy waves beat against the shore. Their violence was powered by a trio of vortexes, each a spinning column of water that rose into the heavens.


    The chains tying the floating islands down clinked and clanged as the howling gales threatened to lift their anchors and blow their vessels away. Even atop the cliff, the halfbreed was no exception to nature¡¯s fury. Her cloak billowed in the wind. Every gust that flew by threatened to sweep her off her feet and throw her off the ledge. Her force resistance¡¯s deactivation was the only thing that kept her from joining the stray manatee flailing about in the air. The unlucky sea cow had been abducted by the hurricane, blown away as easily as another one of the countless leaves fluttering through the sky. Though seemingly at nature¡¯s mercy, the aquatic mammal had a surprising amount of control. There was enough water in the vortex for it to more or less swim around in midair. It wasn¡¯t nearly as graceful or fast as expected, but, at the very least, it was managing to avoid all the random objects that happened to fly its way.


    ¡°Woah! It¡¯s really storming out here today,¡± said Sylvia. The fox had remained within her air bubble, even after she surfaced from the water.


    ¡°Is this normal?¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ I¡¯m not really sure, but it should be, I think.¡±


    ¡°Make up your mind,¡± said the lyrkress. She half-shouted as she dug her hooves into the cliff. She knew the fox would hear her either way, but she couldn¡¯t help but speak up. It felt like the wind was going to whisk her words away.


    Cadria was no stranger to the occasional bout of heavy rain, but a tropical storm like the one assaulting the archipelago was unheard of. The only tornadoes she had ever seen were artificial, and none of them had ever come with enough moisture to spell the end of the world.


    ¡°Do you think we should come back some other time?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°No. This is fine.¡±


    Taking a deep breath, Claire charged at the cliff¡¯s edge and leapt right off. She had to fight against the wind to seize control of her tail and point it at her back. The wingless flier had the right angle and everything was in order, but she soon found herself veering off course nonetheless. A powerful gust sent her drifting in a completely random direction. Correcting for the change, on its own, was trivial; a leftwards yoink was all she needed to get herself back on track. But the wayward gale was not alone. It was accompanied by a countless number of brethren, some stronger, others weaker, all obnoxious.


    Still, she was able to more or less navigate her way to the island. Everything went about as smoothly as it could until she was suddenly assaulted by a tree. The massive log came out of nowhere, crashed into her back, and nearly shattered her spine. It missed her vertebrae by a hair¡¯s breadth and slammed itself into her ribs instead. Two of the fragile bones broke on impact. The pain distracted Claire just enough for her to lose control; she was thrown off course and sent tumbling into the beach. Adding insult to injury, she was struck by a stray bolt of lightning shortly after landing. A wave of heat passed through her body, accompanied by a pulsing pain, a strange burning sensation that bounced through her veins and flooded her system with misery. Her limbs jerked about, twitching and spasming against her will as the raw energy rampaged through her.


    When the seemingly eternal moment finally passed, she was left clawing at the ground and gasping for air. Her skin was burned, her scales were charred, and she was barely able to move.


    ¡°I told you this was a bad idea,¡± said Sylvia, who dropped down next to her.


    ¡°Shut up,¡± groaned Claire.


    She summoned Shoulderhorse and threw up a makeshift shelter by ordering the pony to eat all the rain and debris that happened to fly in her direction. Slowly, steadily, she grit her teeth, bore with the pain, and pushed herself off the ground. A quick glance at her HP revealed that the damage wasn¡¯t as bad as she thought. She had only lost about a fifth of her total, even though it felt like the reaper was already knocking on her door.


    ¡°You¡¯re just mad I¡¯m right!¡± huffed Sylvia.


    Ignoring the fairy, who may or may not have been correct, Claire leapt back into the air and launched herself straight through the hurricane. There were many things out there capable of stopping her dead in her tracks, but she wasn¡¯t about to let some dumb storm add itself to the list.


    ___


    Claire


    Health: 4207/5310


    Mana: 11605/11605


    Divinity: 5/5


    Health Regen:1725/hour (3450/hour)


    Mana Regen: 9252/hour


    Divinity Regen: 5/hour


    Ability Scores - 267 Points Available


    - Agility: 580


    - Dexterity: 539


    - Spirit: 429


    - Strength: 869


    - Vitality: 575


    - Wisdom: 1028


    Racial Class: Frostblight Lyrkress - Level 82.06


    - Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts - Level 21.44


    - Frostblight Lyrkrian Shapeshifting - Level 16.87


    - Paralyzing Gaze - Level 12.65


    - Thermodynamic Regulation - Level 10.10


    - True Ice Manipulation - Level 10.41


    Primary Class: Llystletein Bloodthief - Level 84.74


    - Assassinate - Level 17.40


    - Bloodthief - Level 20.17


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 10.10


    - Envenom - Level 19.39


    - Manathief - Level 17.23


    - Phantom Blade - Level 16.81


    Secondary Class: Llystletein Vector Mage - Level 81.95


    - Basic Force Resistance - Level 12.21


    - Catgirl Detector V. 0.33 - Level 9.82


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 16.87


    - Spirit Sorcery - Level 26.01


    - Vector Manipulation - Level 29.85


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 4.00


    - Axe Mastery - Level 11.09


    - Club Mastery - Level 17.49


    - Cooking - Level 1.02


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 14.76


    - Dancing - Level 8.23


    - Digging - Level 13.54


    - English - Level 25


    - Greatsword Mastery - Level 10.64


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 7.96


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 23.82


    - Marish - Level 19.09


    - Sewing - Level 1.43


    - Sneaking - Level 18.13


    - Spear Mastery - Level 9.74


    - Sword Mastery - Level 10.21


    - Throwing - Level 10.84

 Chapter 102 -Dreams And Delusions V

    Chapter 102 -Dreams And Delusions V


    Seven failures and two lightning strikes later, Claire finally found herself standing atop the savannah. Her hair was frizzled and her eyes were dead, but at the very least, her clothes remained in perfect form. The leather cloak regenerated every time she was struck, be it by a thunderbolt or a piece of debris. Her flesh did the same, but it was not as quick to recover; her skin remained marred by burns, and many of her scales were missing outright. But she was satisfied. Because unlike the savannah¡¯s monsters, most of whom were cowering under their cervidian overlords, she had challenged the storm and won.


    Catching one such group in her sights, the lyrkress slithered through the field with all caution thrown to the wind. Even with the full length of her body as an anchor, she struggled to remain balanced as she moved across the plain. The ground shook every time the wind howled, as it would during one of Primrose¡¯s fits.


    She was not the only one to note her progress. The massive deer craned its neck and looked at her with its multicoloured gaze as she drew near. A bolt of lightning arced from the sky and struck the behemoth as it raised its head, but the electrical surge prompted not a single reaction. It was simply shrugged off and ignored, just like the rain. Likewise, the monsters standing beneath its frame were just as uncaring. Even those standing too far to be protected were completely nonchalant. They ignored the lightning strikes and simply idled in the mud, as they had when the sun was out.


    Only those struck directly had any semblance of a reaction. They sprang into action, seeking only to escape the deer that was their master. For some, like the field turtles, that meant sprinting at top speed. Others were not as fortunate. Those more susceptible to damage were left limping away at a snail¡¯s pace. Whatever the case, their fates remained the same. A quick stomp from the deer would always spell an immediate demise.


    Claire turned her mace into an icy blade as she continued walking through the storm. But even with the blatant act of aggression, the deer remained idle. It proceeded with utmost confidence, and not for no reason. Its gaze was on the verge of all-consuming. The abyss within its eyes sucked Claire into a trance and forced her to continue her advance, even as she tried to hold her ground. Her body refused to listen. Just like last time.


    A branch with a large, ripe fruit grew towards her as she finally reached its base. The peach it offered was a light in the dark, a glowing beacon that beckoned and called the weary. Its pull was irresistible. She was slowly dragged forward, straight towards her new master.


    All according to plan.


    Her hand slipped right past the fruit and grabbed hold of the monster¡¯s horns. Pulling, both with her body and with her magic, she moved its massive head a tiny bit closer as she bashed her axe against the thickest part of its antler trunk. Though seemingly made of wood, it was unlike the mirewulves, whose bodies had crumbled beneath her raw power. The deer stood strong. Her attack only managed to pierce a quarter of the way through the horn. It looked like a shallow wound, but a tide of blood leaked from the broken bone, most of it half frozen.


    The cervidian monster reared up and roared as it swung its head around, but Claire was ready. Leaving her axe where it was, she grabbed onto its antlers with both hands and wrapped her tail around another part of its wreath. It buckled wildly in an attempt to shake her loose, but she remained in position until it gave up and sat down. A wide grin on her face, the lyrkress spat out a ball of ice covered in jagged spikes and smeared in her own blood¡ªthe reason she was able to break free from the deer¡¯s control. Her cocky display remained, even as the cervid¡¯s many subordinates climbed atop its body with her removal their sole purpose. Because a horde of ascended monsters was, ultimately, just another horde. And she had plenty of experience dealing with those.


    Replacing her horse-cum-umbrella with her snake, Claire basked in the serpent¡¯s rage for a brief moment before unfastening the wooden whips strapped to her bandolier. One in each hand, she cracked her neck. But she didn¡¯t charge into the crowd. In fact, she did just the opposite and stepped away from it.


    Because the deer was stupid. Completely, irredeemably stupid.


    It had somehow managed to forget that it was the only thing keeping its pets safe from the weather. Some of the lighter creatures were blown away, while others were unfortunate enough to be struck by stray bolts from the blue. Some managed to climb unhindered, but they were the exception and not the norm. Most of the monsters that managed to get up onto the pseudo lord¡¯s back were dislodged without so much as a chance to attack.


    Claire, on the other hand, was presented with nothing but opportunities to aggress. Snapping her wrist, she launched an assault on the deer¡¯s massive eyes. Though she had never used a whip, makeshift weapon mastery guided her hand. The hardened vines bent past the branches covering the deer¡¯s face and dug straight into the side of its head. Though both simultaneous attacks had missed the monster¡¯s oculi, she was perfectly satisfied with the result. The experiment had proven that while inaccurate, the whips were powerful enough to tear right through the monarch¡¯s pelt and rend its flesh asunder.


    Another pained howl erupted from the creature¡¯s throat. It threw its head back, screamed, and bounced around, but she remained exactly where she was. A minute of failure led it to opt for another means of defense. It expanded its wreath, growing it to cover its face with a thick layer of green.


    The exact result she had predicted.


    Its newfound shield was robust; both cervids knew that she would struggle to get past the forest of wood and bone. But Claire was unbothered. Unlike her foe, she was well aware that she didn¡¯t need to. The laurel rampart robbed the deer of the ability to see. And in doing so, accomplished the halfbreed¡¯s goal.


    She had only targeted its eyes because she wanted it blinded.


    So that she could prepare her next round of attacks.


    Retrieving and repairing her axe, she slid down a branch and swung at the cervid¡¯s exposed nape. Every strike cracked the weapon¡¯s blade. But she didn¡¯t let up. The edge was not the tool¡¯s only means of assault. When it broke, she switched to bashing her target with the axe¡¯s hook. And when that joined its predecessor and shattered, she moved on to gouging with its spikes. The barbaric ice mage maintained a relentless assault, fixing each shattered piece in turn as another took its place.


    It was a perfect display of raw ferocity, but the deer refused to capitulate. Even with an attack every second, she couldn¡¯t get all the way through its spine. Like most other Llystletein monsters, it clung to life with an irrational obstinance. The damage she inflicted was regenerated between every attack. The monster¡¯s fat and blood coated its freshly restored pelt, and even when frozen, caused her blade to slip. No matter how hard she swung, it simply refused to die; her frostblighted strikes were incapable of breaking past its raw vitality.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Her poison, however, could.


    It seeped into the giant¡¯s veins, spread throughout its flesh, and culminated in a reward, right as its servants finally climbed close enough to attack.


    The violent sneeze that erupted from its face was paired with an accompanying spasm. Its legs trembled and its body lurched like a small boat in an all-consuming storm.


    For Claire, it was a non-issue. Her tail continued to keep her anchored.


    But the same could not be said for the monsters scrambling towards her. They were shaken right off, sent flying in random directions. Only half of the brainwashed creatures were cognizant enough of their own positions to hang on for dear life. Those that stuck around were removed by Shouldersnake. The limbless lizard skittered down the length of the king¡¯s body, tearing its fangs through all the monsters it crossed. They were dislodged without fail, be they hyena-boars, wingless three-legged sands owls, or savage rabbits with human-like ears.


    They couldn¡¯t touch her. And neither could their master.


    But victory eluded the halfbreed¡¯s grasp. Just as how the deer had no means of killing her, she too had no means of killing it. Her venom could irk it, but only the soarspore poison had any effect. Likewise, her only bladed weapon was unable to end its life. The wounds she inflicted appeared massive enough to prove fatal, with many measuring in at over a meter across. But to the deer, they were just tiny cuts, cuts it could regenerate as quickly as the gash on its neck.


    She was out of options.


    A sigh and a lightning strike later, she begrudgingly climbed back up the monster¡¯s neck and axed a fruit-laden branch off its crown.


    For a moment, she was tempted to jump off and leave, her goal technically accomplished.


    But then she recalled that the deer was not like her.


    Killing it was as easy as taking its breath away.


    And she had everything she needed to do exactly that.


    Step one was seizing control of the rain. The cold air radiating from her body turned it into sleet, sleet that she funneled into the deer¡¯s nostrils. It started flailing again, but there was no escape. Waves upon waves of ice were shoved directly into its lungs. It coughed, wheezed, and tried to purge the foreign substance, but she froze its wet fur and sealed both its mouth and its nose, trapping the freshly melted liquid inside.


    It smashed its hooves against its face and rammed its snout into the dirt. But the muzzle didn¡¯t break. It couldn¡¯t put enough power into its forelimbs, and the ground was too muddy for the ice to shatter. None of its flailing managed to save it.


    Not at the start of the battle.


    Nor at the end.


    Log Entry 2791


    You have slain a level 122 Llystletein Buccontrol.


    This feat has earned you the following bonuses


    - 2 points of agility


    - 3 points of dexterity


    - 2 points of strength


    - 2 (2x1) points of vitality


    - 4 points of wisdom


    That¡¯s an even worse name than Field Turtle. How does he come up with these?


    Log Entry 2792


    You have unlocked a new spawnable drink item.


    Claire watched the freshly freed monsters disperse as she listened to her logs. They ran in all directions, completely ignoring her as they scattered to the winds. Some of the smaller ones were swept away, taken by the storm, but most were able to hold their ground, even with the winds as harsh as they were.


    Log Entry 2793


    You have acquired the Whip Mastery skill.


    Claire crossed her arms and sat down, but the goddess¡¯ voice had already quieted. Is that really it?


    Checking her log, she confirmed that nothing else had changed. Not even her mage class, which had been on the verge of leveling up, had made any notable progress. ¡°Why is it so worthless? That¡¯s barely a fifth of a mirewulf¡¯s worth of experience.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s because it wasn¡¯t really much of a threat,¡± said Sylvia, who suddenly appeared right beside her.


    ¡°It seemed threatening.¡±


    ¡°The only thing it really does is that nifty mind control spell, but that¡¯s not really worth all that much on its own, since it¡¯s so easy to break.¡±


    Shrugging, Claire looked through its branches and identified several different kinds of fruit. The most common variant was more or less a peach, a pink and yellow blob, hanging from just about every terminal branch. Almost equally as abundant were the porcelain spheres. They vaguely seemed to resemble apples in terms of shape, but their outermost layers were made of a material that looked a lot like ceramic. Though glossy and dyed with bits of blue, the earthen shell was squishy and supple. A light squeeze popped one of the fruits and spilled its sticky contents all over her hands.


    ¡°Which ones are the ones with water in them?¡± There were over ten different varieties and none of the others stood out or caught her eye.


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ Hmmm¡­¡± Sylvia hummed a quick tune, applied a rune to her nose, and sniffed each variant in turn. Three repetitions later, she lifted an unremarkable red blob with a few spikes sticking out of the tip. ¡°These smell the most watery, but none of them are all that different. Maybe you should try bringing a whole branch back? I dunno.¡±


    ¡°Useless fox,¡± grumbled the lyrkress.


    ¡°I¡¯m not useless!¡± Sylvia stamped her feet with almost enough vigour to burst her own bubble. ¡°I¡¯m the only reason you thought to try hunting these things in the first place!¡±


    ¡°And it wasn¡¯t worth it. That was too much effort for 0.3% of a level.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but now you should have everything you need to pay the cat guy back.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°Okay, fine. You¡¯re half a step up from being useless. Happy?¡±


    ¡°Mhm!¡± Sylvia nodded before scrunching up her brows and freezing. ¡°Wait, no! I meant no!¡±


    ¡°Well too bad.¡±


    The blueblood picked up her axe and began chopping at the antler¡¯s root. It took five swings to get all the way through; the bone wasn¡¯t as tough as her mace, but she was convinced it would make a decent weapon once all the fruits and leaves were removed. Its rounded curve greatly limited its possible applications, but she was confident she could make something out of it, one way or another.


    ¡°Ugh! Whatever! I don¡¯t care anymore.¡± Sylvia climbed up on top of Claire¡¯s head with an audible huff. The bubble surrounding her body deformed to accommodate the change in position. ¡°I know you¡¯re really just being mean to be mean, and that you just don¡¯t want to admit I¡¯m not useless. Deep down, I bet you¡¯re super grateful and totally attached to me!¡±


    Claire scrunched up her face. ¡°Stop that. You¡¯re starting to sound like Mittens.¡±


    ¡°B-but you are, right? I mean, look at how fluffy and adorable I am! What¡¯s not to love?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not fluffy. You¡¯re just a soggy old rag.¡± Hoisting the two meter-long wreath over her shoulder, the lyrkress made for the cliff¡¯s edge.


    ¡°I¡¯m not soggy! I¡¯m perfectly dry!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you are.¡±


    A tiny icicle drilled its way into the fox¡¯s bubble, but the weaponised raindrop failed to pierce the protective barrier. It bounced right off, harmlessly, as would a less jagged projectile.


    The fox giggled. ¡°Nice try.¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡± Grumbling again, the less-than-bubbly blueblood jumped off the island and made for a certain annoying box¡¯s temple.

 Chapter 103 - Dreams and Delusions VI

    Chapter 103 - Dreams and Delusions VI


    The journey from the savannah to the citadel was just as smooth as the journey from the archipelago to the savannah, which was to say it wasn¡¯t smooth at all. Claire was struck by another three lightning bolts, each of which sent her plummeting from the skies. The halfbreed was made to feel the full extent of nature¡¯s wrath, but the wreath she carried remained completely unharmed. Neither the leaves nor the fruits had suffered any damage, no matter how many times they were fried. The wind was a greater threat to her loot than its accompanying thunderstorm. She couldn¡¯t help but worry that the literal fruits of her labour would be taken by the hurricane and consumed by the sea cow floating its way through the storm; the silly creature had tried to take a bite out of her plunder every time they passed each other by.


    Despite the many trials and tribulations, she was eventually able to land atop the floating isle. It was difficult to make out any notable landmarks with the skies as dark as they were; she missed the usual tree and crashed into a random building. Claire herself was fine, but the impact reduced the half-destroyed structure to a pile of rubble. Her face was a bit sore, but only because she had landed on it. The elongated branch in her arms stopped her from using the forelimbs to soften the blow.


    ¡°You really need to work on your landings,¡± said Sylvia. She floated over to Claire¡¯s head and set herself down atop it. Her weight was virtually unnoticeable, courtesy of the neutralised vectors.


    ¡°And you really need to shut up,¡± said the moose-snake, as she rubbed her jaw.


    ¡°I¡¯m just trying to help!¡±


    ¡°And last time you ¡®tried to help,¡¯ you nearly got me killed by a giant frog.¡±


    ¡°That was last last time! I literally just helped you get something you needed!¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°Whatever. Let¡¯s just go.¡± The blueblood pushed her way out of the rubble and started walking down the street. She wasn¡¯t familiar enough with the town¡¯s layout to know exactly where she was, but heading towards the light flickering in the distance seemed like a good start.


    ¡°Wow! Can¡¯t you at least say good job or thanks? Or anything at all?¡±


    ¡°I said ¡®whatever.¡¯ That counts as something.¡±


    ¡°No it doesn¡¯t!¡± The sentient hat tugged on Claire¡¯s ears, pulling them to the sides, as the lyrkress so often did to her cheeks.


    ¡°Yes it does.¡±


    The bickering continued as they moved through the settlement. For once, the rogue didn¡¯t bother hiding. Even if there were others out and about, which there clearly weren¡¯t, the storm would keep her obscured from afar.


    Like the savannah, the citadel shook every time the wind howled, and far more violently at that. The ruined castle town was far smaller than the other floating island, and its anchors did little to keep it held perfectly in place. Every galewind sent a tremor through the town, and the more powerful blasts had it lurching, bouncing to and fro like a pebble washed away by a flood. She doubted that anyone but the fox was at liberty to consider paying attention to more than just the position of their feet.


    Despite the terrible weather, the drunken settlement was as lively as ever. Roars of laughter filled her ears as she closed in on the town square, the very same howls and cackles that she had heard during her first visit. The sole difference she noted was their source. Rather than coming from all over, they stemmed instead from a very specific subset of buildings, all of which were relatively intact. Of the three undamaged structures, the noisiest was none other than Flux¡¯s temple¡ªher destination. From the clinking of cups alone, she could tell that there were at least several dozen people inside. And if Zelos¡¯ and Beckard¡¯s accounts were by any means accurate, then just about all of them would be drunk out of their minds.


    A frown drew itself on her lips as she recalled the stench of vekratt. She knew what it was like for a legion of otherwise brave men to be reduced to a horde of intoxicated, involuntary celibates, and she had every intention of staying as far away from the mess as possible.


    ¡°Can you turn into a fairy?¡±


    ¡°Ummm, sure I guess. But why?¡±


    ¡°Because you stand out too much as a fox.¡±


    ¡°Ohhh¡­ we¡¯re going sneaky? Okay!¡±


    Sylvia took a small bracelet off one of her rear paws and placed it in her mouth. Claire hadn¡¯t even noticed the leafy accessory; it had been nigh invisible beneath all the vixen¡¯s fur. The strange bangle¡¯s purpose became immediately apparent as her four-legged companion shrank. It was her dress, the same one she had used as a pair of pajamas. Moving with incredible speed, the fox girl donned the outfit before the light enveloping her body faded and emerged from her transformation fully dressed.


    ¡°There, done.¡± Sylvia climbed back into her companion¡¯s hood and hid in her hair. ¡°Is this good enough, or do you need me to shrink some more?¡±


    Claire flattened her shard into a mirror-like shape and looked for the tiny fairy half-hidden in her hair. ¡°Good enough.¡± Claire cracked her shoulders as she turned into a lamia. ¡°You can shrink more?¡±


    ¡°Mhm! And I can get bigger too. Remember how big some of the fairies in Darkwood Hollow were?¡±


    ¡°As big as people.¡±


    ¡°Yup! I can get even bigger if I really want to, but I¡¯ve never really seen a point. Being tiny is way more convenient.¡±


    ¡°Can you change sizes as a fox too?¡±


    ¡°Of course, silly. How else do you think I¡¯ve been fitting so snugly on your head?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Claire shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not like I can see you. Not most of the time, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right... Anyway, I¡¯ve been shrinking, just a littl¡ª¡± The fox froze as her mount strayed from the building¡¯s front entrance. ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire? Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°Inside.¡±


    ¡°But there¡¯s a door right over there!¡±


    The lyrkress ignored the head ornament, who had pointed at the proper entrance, and climbed her way up to the nearest window. It was made of nothing but a slab of wood, but for whatever reason, she couldn¡¯t quite wrench it open. It didn¡¯t budge, in fact, it didn¡¯t even wiggle regardless of how hard she pushed and pulled.


    ¡°I think they¡¯ve probably sealed it shut with magic so the wind doesn¡¯t blow it away,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Great.¡± She slowly turned her head and gave the fox a look, a dead, accusing stare.


    ¡°H-hey, don¡¯t look at me! It¡¯s not my fault they decided to board up for the storm! It totally makes sense! Everything would be going straight to hell and back if they didn¡¯t! I didn¡¯t tell you right away because I didn¡¯t think you were going to climb up the wall and try to wrench open a window!¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t even say anything.¡±


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    ¡°Yeah, but you were about to!¡±


    ¡°Blame your overactive imagination. Not me.¡±


    Claire reached on top of her head and, after a moment¡¯s hesitation, scratched the tiny fairy¡¯s ears. Even with neither hand on the wall, the half-snake remained exactly where she was. She had no trouble slithering right up the brick surface. Its jagged edges were no different from footholes, as far as her lower body was concerned.


    ¡°Oh, whatever! It¡¯s okay. I forgive you,¡± chirped Sylvia.


    ¡°You better.¡±


    ¡°Wow! Okay, fine! I take that back! I unforgive you!¡±


    ¡°Too late. I¡¯m already forgiven.¡±


    The rogue returned her hands to the window and resumed pulling on the wood. She dug her fingers into the hardened material and tried to remove it from its frame. It wouldn¡¯t budge, even with the increased leverage, so she fell back on plan B and punched it. When even that didn¡¯t work, she resorted to ¡®punching¡¯ it even harder. Raising the wreath overhead, she bashed its stump against the wood, over and over until the protective spell succumbed to her brute force.


    It started to crack after a few seconds of pounding, but she wasn¡¯t able to continue. A notable commotion had started to leak from the other side of the wall. The howling gale muffled the sounds and made it difficult for her to hear them in any detail, but she could clearly tell that someone had noticed that something was happening to one of the windows.


    That was why she did the only sensible thing. The lyrkress scooted several windows over and put the branch away. Evidently, there were too many people around for her to continue without a change of plans, so she pressed her palm against a piece of wood and froze a small patch by emitting a burst of cold air. The resulting ice spread like a tumour, slowly growing atop the wooden divider until it was fully enveloped. Once certain that her grip on the panel was solid, she twisted her wrist, wrenched it backwards, and removed it outright.


    Nodding contently to herself, she turned towards the fresh hole and came to a sudden stop. Because she wasn¡¯t alone. There were already two people in the room. One was a Kryddarian, who was sitting up in bed with one of her four arms pointed at a window with a mysterious dent, and the other a hairless cat, leaning over said window whilst scratching his head. Both slowly turned their eyes towards her and froze, just as she had half a moment prior.


    Log Entry 2794


    Paralyzing Gaze has reached level 13.


    I really don¡¯t think that counts, Box.


    ¡°Lova, Beckard, Good evening.¡± Claire greeted each with a nod as she casually slithered through the hole. After dragging the deer¡¯s wreath in behind her, she even tried replacing the window, but it didn¡¯t quite fit the same way it used to, so she set the wood down and froze the gaping hole shut instead.


    ¡°It¡¯s still morning,¡± whispered the fairy lying prone on top of her head.


    ¡°I know,¡± she replied, just as quietly. Her words were spoken without any visible lip movement.


    ¡°Then why are you saying it¡¯s evening?¡±


    ¡°Because they¡¯re already confused. If I confuse them even more, it¡¯ll take them longer to recover.¡± The rogue walked towards the pair and dropped a pair of items by the moth girl¡¯s bed. ¡°This is what I owe you. Buccontrol fruits for magic water, and mirewulf wood for magic wood,¡± she said, in a much louder voice. Turning around immediately, she made for the entrance she had created in a bid to return to the great outdoors


    ¡°H-hold on.¡± Beckard ran in front of her and squeezed out a stutter before she reached the window. After taking another moment to catch his breath, he climbed onto a desk, positioned himself atop a pile of books and double-checked to ensure that they were eye-level.


    Claire took the opportunity to quickly glance around the room. It was a quaint bedchamber made almost entirely of stone, with the exits and furniture the only exceptions. The window frames were wooden, just like the panels that kept them shut, and the doorframes were similarly constructed. The relative lack of personalised decor provided the impression that the Kryddarian was more of a guest than a permanent resident; the curtains were too thick to belong to one of her kind. As night dwellers, Kryddarians preferred thinner drapes so that they could bask in the sunlight as they lazed the day away. It was a near universal trait, shared by most members of the species.


    The guest in question was, for whatever reason, trying her best to avoid Claire¡¯s gaze. She refused to look at the uninvited visitor and shrank back whenever she became the center of attention. Why is she so scared?


    ¡°I¡¯d like it if you could stay a moment,¡± said the cat.


    ¡°Of course you would,¡± said Claire. Both her tone and expression were neutral, as they always were when she had to deal with old men.


    ¡°But before that,¡± he turned to the moth, ¡°Lova, I know you were about to turn in, but could you please get Fred and inform him that your window needs fixing? I doubt you¡¯d be able to sleep for long. It¡¯ll get drafty once the ice melts.¡±


    ¡°S-sure, I¡¯ll get him to come right up.¡± The moth girl gulped, nodded, and scampered out of bed, making for the door with an impressive burst of speed.


    Both parties wordlessly watched her depart, but the silence didn¡¯t end, even after she left. Claire stayed quiet and kept her mouth shut as she waited for the man to put his thoughts together.


    ¡°There are a few things I¡¯d like to ask, so why don¡¯t we get the most obvious one out of the way first?¡± He looked towards a certain broken aperture as he continued. ¡°Is there a particular reason you chose to come through one of the windows?¡±


    ¡°I was wondering about that too!¡± said Sylvia, as she popped out from under Claire¡¯s hood.


    ¡°A window is easier to fix than a door,¡± said Claire.


    The monk and the fox took a moment to exchange glances, with both pausing momentarily to process the statement¡¯s implications.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire? You do know you don¡¯t have to break things to use them, right?¡±


    ¡°The main entrance is still readily accessible,¡± said the cat. ¡°Someone would have let you in if you had knocked.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think the window would be locked,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you just drop back down and head through the door when you found out it was?¡± The fairy flew over to Claire¡¯s shoulder and climbed down her arm, as if to demonstrate her solution.


    ¡°Because the window was locked.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense!¡± shouted the two-legged fox.


    ¡°Yes it does. It annoyed me, so I got rid of it,¡± said the half-snake, matter-of-factly. ¡°And windows are just small doors. There¡¯s hardly a difference.¡±


    She had always treated the manor¡¯s windows as door-substitutes, largely in part because they were far more convenient and accessible. The maids often scolded her for the supposedly improper behaviour, but their warnings went unheeded. Most would give up upon discovering that she would blatantly ignore their lectures, with Marie as the only exception. As a purebred cervitaur, Marie had twice Claire¡¯s leg count, but the halfbreed had no trouble escaping her. The maid lacked the proficiency needed to scale the random objects that the guilty snake-moose climbed, and to make matters worse, she had never been very athletic to begin with. Outrunning the deer girl was as easy as repeating the action that prompted the scolding to begin with.


    ¡°You can¡¯t just randomly get rid of things because they annoy you!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Look at what you did to the poor window! It¡¯s completely broken!¡±


    The cat chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s okay. We can just have it repaired.¡± He shuffled his hands within his cloak, clasping them together as he nodded in what seemed to be understanding. ¡°I can certainly see why Flux went out of her way to mention that you were a bit of a troublemaker.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a troublemaker,¡± said Claire. ¡°I¡¯m just sensible.¡±


    Sylvia floated on top of her head and plopped onto her hood. ¡°Claire¡­¡±


    ¡°Sensible,¡± repeated the centaur.


    The old priest shook his head as he continued to laugh. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be right for you to be one of Flux¡¯s children if you didn¡¯t have a quirk or two.¡±


    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re really just not going to say anything about her busting through the window?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really see a point.¡± He gestured at the icy panel that kept it closed. ¡°She¡¯s stopped the storm from getting in, and Fred can have it fixed in no time.¡± Jumping off the table, the feline walked towards the wreath and ran his fingers across one of its branches. ¡°The more pressing issue is that, while I certainly do appreciate you bringing some materials in, I¡¯m not sure what this is supposed to be for.¡±


    ¡°You said you needed magic water,¡± said Claire. ¡°Magic fruits have magic juice. Magic juice is just magic water.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, Claire, that doesn¡¯t quite work.¡±


    The blueblood¡¯s gaze slowly shifted towards the ceiling. Or more specifically, towards her hat.


    ¡°I-I thought that it¡¯d be fine!¡± stuttered the fairy. ¡°I-it¡¯s pretty much just water if you purify it!¡±


    ¡°Purifying it disqualifies it for use in rituals.¡± The cat placed his paws behind his back and smiled. ¡°But I really do appreciate the effort. It¡¯s not as if these materials are useless. We can still have them crafted into something useful.¡±


    ¡°They might not be,¡± muttered Claire, under her breath, ¡°but Sylvia is.¡±


    ¡°Hey! I¡¯m not useless!¡±


    ¡°Says the stupid dog who thinks juice is water.¡±


    ¡°Argghhhh! I¡¯m not a dog, and I¡¯m not stupid!¡± Sylvia tugged on the other halfbreed¡¯s hair. ¡°I hate you so much!¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s why we¡¯re friends.¡±


    With a wide smirk on her face, Claire plucked the tiny fox girl off her hood and gave her nose a boop.

 Chapter 104 - Dreams and Delusions VII

    Chapter 104 - Dreams and Delusions VII


    The group settled down as the conversation continued, with Claire taking a seat at a desk and the cat positioning himself on top of it. Sylvia spent most of her time on her mount¡¯s head, but would flutter around the room whenever she got bored, which was apparently almost all the time.


    ¡°What do I need to kill to get you magic water?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll just have to be whatever our resident water mages happen to want,¡± said Beckard. ¡°You might not even have to kill anything. I¡¯m sure you can get one of them to cast a few spells for a quick favour or two.¡±


    Claire¡¯s left eye twitched. ¡°That¡¯s it? You just need a mage to make something?¡±


    The cat-sith frowned as he leaned his back against a pile of books. ¡°It¡¯s more difficult than it sounds. Most of them are incredibly lazy and refuse to put any effort into anything that doesn¡¯t have an unreasonably disproportionate reward.¡±


    ¡°Wait¡­¡± Sylvia placed herself between the pair and swung her tail to and fro. ¡°I thought it was supposed to be natural! Doesn¡¯t that mean it has to grow on something? Or come out of a rock?¡±


    ¡°I should have clarified,¡± said Beckard. ¡°Anything is fine, so long as it isn¡¯t processed and doesn¡¯t come from an artifact.¡±


    ¡°Explain that earlier next time.¡± With a roll of the eyes, Claire crafted a large cube of ice and placed it next to him.


    ¡°Ahh¡­ yes, right. I didn¡¯t realise that you were an ice mage.¡± Beckard looked towards the block of ice, then slowly shifted his gaze to the window. ¡°I¡¯m not quite sure how I failed to make the connection.¡±


    Great. Confusion backfired already. I should¡¯ve known better than to rely on one of Father¡¯s tactics.


    ¡°Well, whatever the case, I suppose you¡¯ve more than paid off your debt. Thank you, child of Flux,¡± said Beckard.


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡± Claire frowned before pausing for a moment and magically prodding the wreath. ¡°Can I get someone to turn that into something? I need something durable. My weapons never last very long.¡±


    The priest scrunched up his brow. ¡°The way our system typically works is that the craftsman you want to hire will take roughly half the material you bring them, adjusting up or down depending on the amount of work you want them to do and how motivated they are.¡± He paused for a moment, waiting for Claire to nod before continuing. ¡°Normally, I would say yes, but you¡¯ll have some difficulty convincing anyone to make something out of it for you as of right now. One of the citadel¡¯s newcomers brought in several buccontrol heads just the other day, and everyone that¡¯s interested in them already has everything they need.¡±


    ¡°Mittens again,¡± grumbled Claire, under her breath. ¡°Always ruining everything.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I hate to say this, but I believe you will need something a little harder to come by.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Claire crossed her arms. ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I know!¡± Sylvia perked up, leapt off Claire¡¯s head, flipped through the air, and landed on the desk.


    ¡°Stay out of this, Sylvia. You think juice is water.¡± I still don¡¯t know why I believed her.


    The fairy¡¯s excitement, which had been about as apparent as a radiant flame in the midst of a dark room, was extinguished with a flick to the face.


    ¡°Come on! At least give me a chance,¡± complained the fox. She rubbed her forehead as she flew back to the table and plopped herself down on top of it. Rather than sitting like a person, she was lying down like a fox. She rested on her belly with her limbs sprawled and her face forward.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so quick to dismiss her.¡± Beckard chuckled into his robe as the half-elf rose into the air and began tugging on her companion¡¯s ear, as if to lodge a complaint. ¡°Llystletein foxes are quite knowledgeable when it comes to the lost library¡¯s properties.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, see! He gets it!¡± cheered the tiny vixen.


    Claire pushed the pest away and sighed. ¡°Fine. You get one chance. If your suggestion sucks, I¡¯m putting you in a drawer.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it won¡¯t suck!¡± Sylvia put her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest. ¡°You just need to kill lords! Lords are the rarest monsters there are because there are only a few of them, and they¡¯re at least a bit different every time, so their stuff is probably really valuable. I think.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯d prefer to do something less risky, you can always visit Brightmoss Maze. It¡¯s a long ways away, so we rarely visit, let alone return with too many notable materials,¡± explained Beckard.


    ¡°Brightmoss Maze?¡±


    ¡°That would be the floor beneath Mirewood Meadow.¡±


    ¡°Oh. That place.¡±


    ¡°The green belt¡¯s there too! That¡¯s the place we were talking about earlier,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I¡¯ll stop by later,¡± said Claire. ¡°What about materials from mirewulves?¡± She set her whips and clubs on the table. She didn¡¯t exactly like the first group, and there was no harm in potentially refining the second.


    Beckard nodded. ¡°Mirewulf materials have the tendency to garner a fair amount of interest.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll just need a craftsman. Who will I need to speak to?¡±


    ¡°Find me be what y¡¯want, lassie.¡± A gruff voice came through the open door, with its owner joining it a moment after. ¡°Fix is due for a window, me heard?¡±


    The man that entered was a classic thrice ascended monster, a purple-skinned goblin with a crown fused into the side of his skull. Had he been standing straight, he likely would have matched her height pre-ascension, but his back was hunched and showed not a single sign of unfurling. His skin was covered in warts of all different shapes and sizes, the most prominent of which sat on top of his massive hooked nose. The mahogany red eyes embedded in his recessed sockets gave a wild, almost feral impression. His clothes were the saving grace, with the linens and leather apron both impressing upon her that he was more than just a mindless beast.


    ¡°Ah, Fred! Just the man I was looking for.¡± Beckard smiled, bowing his head slightly. ¡°Claire, this is one of my old friends, and another member of the party that Zelos and I were a part of during our adventuring days. Fred, this is Claire, the young lady I was telling you about. The fairy on her head is Sylvia, her proctor, from what I¡¯ve gathered.¡±


    ¡°Meeting you be something me¡¯s been looking forward to, aye,¡± said the goblin. She couldn¡¯t tell if the accent was intentional or if he simply wasn¡¯t used to Marish. On one hand, she knew of goblins that could speak with native fluency, but on the other, the bizarre manner of speech sounded more natural than it did forced.


    ¡°Reigned as Frederick, me did, goblin king of Wappitit Woods.¡± He greeted her with a tip of his goggled hat.


    ¡°Claire, frostblight lyrkress,¡± she said, returning his gesture with a nod.


    Both parties looked at Sylvia, but the tiny fox girl failed to respond. The light snoring seemed to suggest that she had fallen asleep, with the impression only deepened by the snot bubble going in and out of her nose.


    ¡°Be best at crafting equipment, me is.¡± The goblin walked over to the window, set down his toolbox, and put on a pair of large leather gloves. ¡°Doing other stuff no problem either, but a proper blacksmith me is.¡±


    ¡°Fred is someone that I would recommend without a second thought,¡± said Beckard. ¡°He may be a bit greedier than many of the others, but he¡¯s always had a knack for using his hands, and he won¡¯t do wrong by you.¡±


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Working with interesting materials be just what me do,¡± explained the goblin. ¡°Ignore boring ones, no fun.¡±


    ¡°What about that? Or these?¡± Claire pointed at the wreath with one hand and lifted one of her whips with the other.


    ¡°Bores me much.¡± The goblin grunted as he sat down by the window. ¡°Find something rarer and me will make whatever me can, yes.¡± He broke the window¡¯s icy covering with a pick and hammered the wooden board back into place. The whole process seemed so effortless and natural that she found herself thinking that she could replicate it, despite knowing better. ¡°Being young, should be ambitious. Kill big somethings, not boring buccontrols.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± The lyrkress rolled her eyes. ¡°Then I¡¯ll go kill Crabby Crags¡¯ lord.¡±


    Frederick took a moment to eye her before breaking into a wide grin. ¡°Making good choice, lassie.¡± He nodded with vigour. ¡°Bring any bones and me be content, but tail best.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Claire faced him as she spoke, but her attention was turned to the doorway. Her ears silently traced the footsteps that approached from down the hall. The information provided was strange and off-putting. There was a discrepancy between the number of feet and the number of voices, with the latter count clearly exceeding the former.


    Log Entry 2795


    Catgirl Detector V. 0.33 has reached level 10.


    ¡°P-please, Murtt! Let¡¯s just wait until she¡¯s gone,¡± squeaked the spellweaver.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Lova! I¡¯m just going to go thank her,¡± said another female. ¡°Nothing¡¯s going to go wrong.¡±


    ¡°I have only a few doubts as to the safety,¡± said a male. His voice was strange. It sounded like a mix between a buzz and a hum. ¡°With Beck and Fred both present, I do not foresee that it is likely for us to be attacked.¡±


    All 0% catgirl, just like the elf.


    As far as Claire could tell, the female was sliding along the ground, but the male companion didn¡¯t seem to be touching it at all. He wasn¡¯t pulling a Sylvia either; his voice was coming from too far behind the others¡¯ for him to be using either as a means of transportation.


    ¡°Good evening you two,¡± said Beckard. ¡°And thank you for getting Fred, Lova.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re very welcome, Beck,¡± said the moth. She was the only one to remain in the corridor. Her companions were less timid, with both stepping into the room immediately upon their arrival¡ªnot that stepping was quite the right term, given that neither party walked. Or had legs.


    In the female¡¯s case, it was more of a gradual crawl. Her roots pulled her across the stone floor in relative silence, with the only noise coming in the form of the occasional scrape. Claire immediately recognized her as an alraune, albeit one of a subspecies she knew little about. The humanoid half of the plant girl¡¯s body was growing out of a white flower that looked more like a morning glory than the standard mandrake, and her skin lacked the usual pale green colouration shared by other members of her species. It would have been easy to mistake her upper half as one that belonged to a dryad, or perhaps another forest spirit with similar properties.


    The male, on the other hand, was just a large jellyfish. Claire had heard of scyphs before, but she had never seen one in person. If not for Amereth¡¯s ranting¡ªand blatant disparaging of their racial speech patterns¡ªshe likely would have mistaken him for just another unintelligent sea creature. His calm demeanor and the bowtie attached to his bell both helped correct her impression, but even then, he seemed more like a pet than a person. Just like a certain other individual.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you, Claire, I¡¯m Myrtle, a moonflower alraune,¡± said the plant, after greeting her acquaintances. ¡°Thank you for saving Lova.¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°Not a problem.¡±


    ¡°Hello, I am pleased to make your acquaintance,¡± said the jellyfish. ¡°I am Grell Starieff, infernal skyscyph.¡±


    ¡°I hope this doesn¡¯t sound too rude,¡± said Myrtle, without waiting for Claire to introduce herself, ¡°but weren¡¯t you supposed to have legs? Lova mentioned them the other day when she got back, but it looks to me like you¡¯re just a lamia.¡±


    ¡°She must have been imagining things,¡± said Claire. ¡°I¡¯m a lamia.¡± The liar unfurled the lower half of her body and opened up her flippers. ¡°These are the closest things I have to legs.¡± Her gaze slowly moved across the room and settled on the very confused moth hiding in the hallway. When their eyes finally met, she greeted the insect with a smile as sweet as honey.


    The silent threat elicited an immediate squeak. The terrified spellweaver ducked out of the doorway and hid behind the wall, her wings the only part of her still visible from beyond the entrance.


    ¡°Introduce enough, back to talk,¡± said Frederick. ¡°Hear many rumours me is, that y¡¯use monster parts to fight, lassie.¡±


    Claire didn¡¯t immediately reply. The glint in the goblin¡¯s eye made her chew on her words before spitting them out. ¡°Why does it matter?¡±


    ¡°Be a good skill to have, that is, can cause much damage. Want me stupid trainees learn from you too. Gained levels, all classes over 50, but they ain¡¯t beat buccontrols yet and struggle with crabs.¡± He motioned at the disjointed group whose final third was sitting outside the room. ¡°Take with you on next Crabby Crags run, and generous with craftsman work, me is. Will show you which parts best take too. Want do deal?¡±


    The halfbreed narrowed her eyes. ¡°No. I don¡¯t do groups.¡±


    ¡°Do deal and me throw in extra armour. Crafted carefully, lightweight and sturdy processed metal. See easily that you wear no armour under cloak, me does.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not taking them,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Confused, deal good,¡± groaned Fred. Still sitting down, he turned around and leaned his back against the wall.


    ¡°See? I told you she was a stubborn one,¡± laughed Beckard.


    ¡°I¡¯m not stubborn,¡± said Claire, ¡°I¡¯m rational. There¡¯s no reason for me to take them with me.¡±


    ¡°Know Crabby Crags well, they does,¡± said the goblin. ¡°Remember layout and know shortcuts. Teaching you, they can since you new.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need their directions,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°A piece of armour is not worth them draining my experience.¡±


    And I already have a map.


    ¡°Drain experience, they no do if just watch. Will even throw in extra weapon, me made personally.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Claire narrowed her eyes.


    ¡°Refuse, why?¡± The goblin shook his head. ¡°Confused much, me is. Making great deal offer, me thinks.¡±


    ¡°Because I know why you¡¯re doing this,¡± said the halfbreed. ¡°You just want them to spy on me so you can learn more about my motives and identity.¡±


    ¡°Spying big overstatement, only want basic information and this better than following from distance. Intruding on privacy no point, me no try make you mad. Help needed. Want more hands move for lord corpse if you kill.¡±


    Claire crossed her arms. It didn¡¯t sound like refusing would allow her to keep her matters private. The goblin had blatantly stated that the group was going to stalk her if they weren¡¯t made into her companions. Stabbing each of the three in the face was always a solution, but antagonizing the citadel was foolish with how little she knew about the dungeon and its various moving pieces. Even if most of the inhabitants were useless drunks, the few functional members, like Zelos, Frederick, or even Beckard could eliminate her with little to no effort. That much was obvious even from a glance.


    That, however, didn¡¯t mean she was simply going to nod along and accept. No matter the outcome, she wanted it to happen on her terms, not the goblin¡¯s. ¡°Give me the armour first and I¡¯ll let them follow me around for a day or two.¡±


    ¡°Want pay first? Can no agree. Need leverage so know you no break deal.¡±


    ¡°Take that then,¡± Claire gestured at the wreath. ¡°It¡¯s not like I need it.¡±


    ¡°Can no take, armour much more good than buccontrol part.¡±


    ¡°Then let me borrow it. I¡¯ll give it back to you before we set out.¡±


    ¡°Making no sense, lassie. See no purpose in lend if you no use to fight.¡±


    ¡°She has Archie¡¯s runecloak,¡± said Beckard. ¡°I believe she¡¯s intending to mimic it.¡±


    ¡°Have Archie cloak? Get how?¡± He narrowed his eyes and fiddled with one of his tools.


    ¡°I got it off a borrok,¡± said Claire, as she recalled Zelos¡¯ assumption. ¡°So it¡¯s mine now.¡±


    The goblin shrugged and put his hammer back in the toolbox. ¡°Borrow only while me watching then maybe okay. Can do if me keep armour and you mimic. Agree deal good now?¡±


    ¡°Good enough,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Wait, we haven¡¯t agreed to anything!¡± shouted Lova, from outside the room.


    ¡°Step into room and talk if want no ignored, idiot,¡± said Frederick.


    ¡°I think it¡¯ll be fine, Lova. It¡¯s not like we¡¯re losing anything, and I doubt she¡¯ll be looking to make use of all the monsters she kills. We may as well be around to salvage the goods,¡± said Myrtle. ¡°And I think Velt¡¯us is looking for more cotton anyway. Maybe he can make us something nice if we bring him enough.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡±


    ¡°I am likely in accord,¡± said the jellyfish. ¡°I have been thinking that it is perhaps time to replace my tie. I may even ask for another suit if we acquire enough materials.¡±


    ¡°Okay¡­ fine.¡± One of the Kryddarian¡¯s wings slid down the side of the door frame as she slumped over.


    ¡°Getting armour now then,¡± said the goblin. He got up and hobbled his way out the door, tools and all in tow.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad that¡¯s decided,¡± said Beckard, with a smile and a clap. ¡°Now, why don¡¯t you come with me? I know you normally camp out, but it never storms for any less than a few days. I happen to have a few spare rooms, and I¡¯m sure one of them will suit your taste.¡±


    The lyrkress paused for a moment to narrow her eyes before answering with a nod.


    ¡°Oh, and before we go.¡± He placed his hands on the side of his head and made a wave-like motion with his fingers. ¡°You may want to hide those.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say that there have been some¡­ rumours going around lately. You¡¯re sure to attract a little too much attention if you keep them out.¡±


    Claire tucked her ears in and pulled her hood over her head. ¡°Fine.¡±


    There were a thousand reasons to refuse, but she decided to play along. Beckard had the box¡¯s approval, and she didn¡¯t think the man was the sort to lie to her face. Still, her mind immediately raced to all the worst assumptions and her contingencies therefor. It doesn¡¯t hurt to have a plan¡­ Just in case.

 Chapter 105 - Dreams and Delusions VIII

    Chapter 105 - Dreams and Delusions VIII


    According to the hairless cat, only four of the temple¡¯s thirty spare beds were still available. Two were placed in a larger room that already contained another party of people. They were all women, but Claire rejected the notion of joining them without so much as waiting for an introduction. She could hear the drunken sows giggling from within their sty, and from that alone deduced that there was no benefit to joining them. Hearing her own thoughts would be impossible in their presence, especially with one of them fervently flaunting her own lack of chastity.


    The second option, a hammock suspended in the middle of the cathedral, was discarded for a similar reason. The airborne bed was located directly above the drunken crowd, and she had no doubt that its conversations would be distracting if not outright offensive. Left with no other choice, she defaulted to the final option, a small partition in the attic. The confined space had only a smidgeon of legroom. Even at a glance, she could tell that it was clearly meant for storing things and not people; it was so small that she couldn¡¯t leave her tail fully extended, but the halfbreed was not uncomfortable amongst all the random objects strewn about. If anything, she found it rather nostalgic. The mess reminded her of the manor¡¯s storehouse, which she had explored and looted on more than just the odd occasion.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry we don¡¯t have anything better.¡± Beckard smiled apologetically as he handed her the key. ¡°We normally don¡¯t get very many guests, but most of the other buildings fail at providing shelter during the storms.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate your understanding. Would you like to stay here while Fred fetches the armour? Or would you rather wait somewhere a little more spacious?¡±


    The halfbreed almost immediately defaulted to the first option, but revised her decision soon after. She was going to need more space if she wanted to move around and test the armour¡¯s flexibility. ¡°Is there anywhere without a lot of people?¡±


    ¡°I would say that we could head back to Lova¡¯s room, but she¡¯s likely about to sleep, and it would be better for us not to disturb her.¡± He meowed as he raised a rear paw and scratched his back. ¡°My office would be the next best place. It sees the occasional guest or two, but you¡¯ll be largely undisturbed.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Claire nodded with more vigour than usual¡ªand not because she was excited.


    Why hasn¡¯t Sylvia fallen off my head?


    She craned her neck in all sorts of different directions, but the sleeping fox fairy remained perfectly in place. Not even in bending over and looking at her own stomach did she displace the half-elf from where she first lost consciousness.


    ¡°Claire?¡± Beckard looked back when he realised that she wasn¡¯t following him. He nearly caught her in the midst of her experimentation, but she straightened herself out before he finished turning around.


    ¡°Right behind you.¡±


    She slithered after the cat-sith and followed him up a flight of stairs that had appeared out of thin air. By all means, its existence was an anomaly. The cathedral looked like it only had two floors, and they were already in the attic. Her room¡¯s roof was also the building¡¯s, but they managed to climb up above it without being exposed to the elements. The confusing subspace was akin to a fox¡¯s abode; its true volume was far greater than what its appearance otherwise suggested.


    ¡°This is something we obtained following a negotiation with Alfred.¡± The explanation came unprompted. He had started to speak without turning around and reading her expression¡ªnot that there was much to glean from it either way. ¡°It doesn¡¯t measure up to what the foxes are capable of creating, but it¡¯s still much better than nothing.¡±


    He pushed open the door at the top of the phantom staircase and walked into a room filled with scrolls. The shelves were completely jam-packed, and those that didn¡¯t fit were neatly stacked in one of the office¡¯s far corners. There were just as many individual objects as there were in Zelos¡¯ abode, but their careful arrangement drastically cut down on the amount of space consumed.


    ¡°How much space will you need?¡±


    Beckard grabbed a piece of parchment off of his desk and made a few quick notes before returning it to the pile. The seemingly countless processed skins came in a variety of makes. Many appeared rather refined, but not all of them could be deemed high-quality. Evidently, not all of the citadel¡¯s craftsmen were as proficient as the purple-skinned goblin. With several points of criticism in mind, Claire walked over to one of the corners next to the door, turned back into a lyrkress, and stretched out her tail. ¡°I want a square. One about as long as I am.¡±


    ¡°Not a problem. I¡¯ll have Fred set up the partition once he arrives,¡± he said, ¡°On the topic of others, did you happen to meet a pair of centaurs that go by Carter and Marleena? One is a slightly wider gentleman, of the kinder, more passive sort, and the other is a sharp young lady of a much smaller make.¡±


    ¡°In passing.¡±


    ¡°I thought so,¡± he said. ¡°They mentioned they were saved by someone that matched your description. Would you mind if I brought them in to meet you?¡±


    Claire crossed her arms. ¡°I¡¯d rather be left alone.¡±


    The mare was fine, but the stallion was a pervert. He wouldn¡¯t stop staring at my ears.


    ¡°That¡¯s too bad. I¡¯m sure Carter would have been thrilled to see you,¡± he said.


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly why I don¡¯t want to see him.¡±


    Beckard slowly shook his head as he laughed. ¡°I certainly do think he tends to be a little too enthusiastic. He¡¯s really not as bad as he may seem at first.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t force you then.¡± He climbed up on his desk as he spoke and situated himself in front of what she assumed to be an important document.


    ¡°I was half expecting you to,¡± said Claire. ¡°Zelos did.¡±


    The cat-fairy smiled. ¡°He does tend to be a little meddlesome.¡±


    ¡°He kept trying to make me work with Mittens.¡± She almost frowned as she recalled the rodent the elf had attempted to introduce.


    ¡°Mittens?¡± The priest furrowed his brow and scratched the back of his head. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m familiar with a ¡®Mittens.¡¯¡±


    ¡°The obnoxious rat,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Rat?¡± He paused for a moment to scratch his chin. ¡°Ah, you must be talking about Geoff! Would you mind me asking why you¡¯ve nicknamed him Mittens?¡±


    ¡°Because he¡¯ll make a good pair. Once he dies,¡± hissed the half-snake.


    ¡°I see I was right to assume that your relationship with him was not as he described it.¡± Beckard heaved a sigh, dipped a claw in a jar of ink, and scribbled down a quick note.


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°What did it say?¡±


    ¡°Nothing you would be happy to hear,¡± he answered, with an audible groan.


    ¡°Then keep it away from me,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°An excellent, decisive answer,¡± the priest meowed contently. ¡°Certainly befitting one of Flux¡¯s children.¡±


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Why do you keep calling me that? I was never given a divine quest.¡±


    ¡°While it is certainly true that we often refer to those with divine quests as the children of the gods, that is not the term¡¯s only use, let alone its most accurate.¡± The bald feline assumed a meditative stance by crossing his legs and placing both paws in his lap. ¡°It is meant to be used to refer to individuals whose souls have been tampered with. And I was told that yours was handcrafted by the lovely goddess of the eternal flow herself.¡± He looked her in the eyes. ¡°You¡¯re incredibly blessed, to the point that I¡¯m both fulfilled and envious to be in your presence.¡±


    ¡°Blessed? Hardly.¡± Claire closed her eyes, pausing to take a breath before opening them once more. ¡°She told me that my life would not be easy.¡±


    ¡°The blessed often don¡¯t have easy lives,¡± he said, with a knowing smile. ¡°What do you think of when someone mentions a god-blessed child?¡±


    ¡°A champion. Someone that becomes a subservient celestial.¡±


    Beckard placed both paws on his desk, one on top of the other. ¡°Do you think the lives champions lead are easy?¡±


    ¡°Naturally,¡± said Claire. ¡°They¡¯re hand-picked by the gods and handed ridiculous abilities.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t blame you for making that assumption. I did the same, once.¡± Beckard smiled softly as he closed his eyes and clenched his tail. ¡°They do tend to be disproportionately powerful, for their levels, but that is only because the risk that they had to endure to get to that point is equally as ludicrous. They are relied on by others, propped up on pedestals and celebrated, but few are ready to deal with living up to all of the unrealistic expectations that come with their positions.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re the only ones to blame. For their mental frailty.¡±


    Claire spoke under her breath as she fought back the urge to shudder. The horrifying experience that came from encountering the statue flew to the forefront of her consciousness, her own statement serving as the trigger.


    ¡°Perhaps. Perhaps not.¡± The cat traced his ink-laden claw down a page, doodling a figure that only he found familiar. ¡°They may often seem larger than life, but they¡¯re still people. Just like you and I.¡± He raised his eyes towards the ceiling. ¡°If you would rather not take my word for it, then ask Zelos or Frederick. We¡¯ve all met our fair share of them, and I¡¯m sure they would tell you the same.¡± Standing up, he began pacing back and forth atop his desk. ¡°Champions don¡¯t have the easiest of lives. Most of them crumble under the pressure, which is why you hear of the occasional god-chosen warrior falling to an ordinary soldier backed by nothing but mediocrity.¡± He blinked and took a slow breath and allowed his tail to relax. ¡°In the first place, not all god-blessed children are necessarily meant to be renowned on the battlefield. Some become prominent political figures instead, and there are just as many that go on to live their lives in unknown solidarity. Many even seek refuge with the clergy and blend in with their ranks, their secrets unknown to those around them.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware,¡± said Claire. Or maybe I was. I think Allegra might have mentioned something similar while I wasn¡¯t listening.


    ¡°The gods may have certain intentions in mind, but only overbearing deities will dictate the lives of their creations. Fortunately for you, Flux does not happen to be one of them.¡±


    ¡°I almost wish she was.¡± Claire turned into a humanoid and leaned her back against a shelf. ¡°I don¡¯t really know what I¡¯m supposed to do. Not now, nor when I leave.¡±


    ¡°Do not worry. You will find your purpose in due time,¡± he said, with a laugh. ¡°Though, perhaps it does not seem quite as very believable coming from me, seeing as how I have yet to find my own.¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t?¡± The person-shaped lyrkress finally relinquished her poker face and raised a brow.


    ¡°I have not,¡± he said, with a calm smile. ¡°Why do you think I¡¯m here? In Llystletein?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Claire. ¡°Maybe to serve a criminal sentence? Or because you chose to join in on a suicidal raid?¡±


    ¡°Nothing of the sort.¡± He smiled confidently. ¡°I¡¯m here under Flux¡¯s instructions, issued to me roughly seventy years ago. She stated that I should go to Llystletein to watch over a key individual that would appear only after a number of decades came to pass.¡±


    ¡°And you listened?¡± Claire raised just one of her ears and tilted her head.


    ¡°Yes. Fred, Zelos, Archibald and I decided that Llystletein would be our next adventure, as per my goddess¡¯ instructions.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous. At least two of you were on your third ascensions. Your most powerful classes must have been nearing a thousand. Why would you throw them away?¡±


    ¡°We didn¡¯t. Not exactly, at least,¡± said Beckard, with a smile. ¡°Our entrance into Llystletein was a tad abnormal. Archibald, a huskarn friend of mine, crafted an artifact that warped us inside without following the standard procedure. Admittedly, there were a few miscalculations and we did lose most of our levels, but our skills and classes remained intact.¡±


    ¡±You broke in?¡± Claire narrowed her eyes.


    ¡°Yes, but no, that does not mean we can break out. When our artificer reaches a high enough level and our rune mage perfects a few theories and designs, perhaps, but not now.¡± The cat-sith smiled. ¡°Unfortunately, Alfred has ordered that we put a stop to coming up with the aforementioned theories. Agreeing to that is a part of the reason that we happen to have this subspace, in fact.¡±


    Claire pressed a hand to her face. She could already feel a headache on the way. ¡°And why are you telling me all this?¡±


    ¡°I thought it would help prove my point.¡± He got up off his desk and moved towards the door. ¡°You don¡¯t need to concern yourself with a greater purpose. Go with the flow, and you¡¯ll do just fine.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll think about it,¡± she said.


    Claire could certainly see some sort of validity in the priest¡¯s way of life. If anything, blindly pushing forward was exactly what she aspired to do, but she was held back by her inability to shrug off her doubts. She knew that her father would send either captors or assassins after her as soon as she escaped the library and stepped before the public eye.


    For the most part, she felt as if she had started to get over him, but his influence was still strong and there was no knowing how she would react in the face of a blatant reminder. More concerning was the curse; she wasn¡¯t confident that she could remain herself in a catgirl¡¯s presence. She was at risk of being consumed by the impulse. And knowing that terrified her, far more than any would-be cutthroats ever could. The thought of being pursued already had her feeling hesitant to leave the lost library. But the thought of having her mind invaded and overwritten made her want to hide in a corner, tremble, and cry.


    If the plays she so often watched were to be believed, conviction was one of the great driving forces, one that would stay strong in the face of all the adversity she would one day come to face. And she had none of it. She wanted¡ªneeded¡ªthe box to give her a greater purpose, something that would keep her going even if she was confronted by a cat-eared nightmare.


    Flux had instructed her to ascend. Accruing more power was sure to prepare her for everything to come, but the vague directive provided little inspiration. For all she knew, it could have been a joke. At the very least, it sounded like one. It was almost unheard of for a mortal to complete the final ascension and become a god. There were only a few legends that spoke of such events. It was common knowledge that new gods were sired by existing members of the pantheon.


    She needed something more concrete. But she received nothing of the sort. There was no impending world-ending threat, no star-crossed lover she had to rescue, and no blatant reward at the end of her journey. She didn¡¯t have to move forward. Her attachment to life was the only thing that kept her on track, and at some point, she would stop having to fight for it. Llystletein only had three floors; if she grew strong enough to kill all the lords, then there would be nothing left to threaten her.


    Maybe she¡¯ll provide more detailed instructions, next time I ascend.


    When Claire finally finished working through her thoughts, she raised her head to find the old priest casting her a gentle gaze. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t think too hard about it,¡± he said.


    ¡°That¡¯s easy for you to say,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t always.¡± He spent a moment smiling wistfully before looking at one of the walls. ¡°I¡¯d love to tell you more, but it¡¯ll have to be a story for another time.¡±


    Following his gaze, the blueblood found herself contemplating his senility. His gaze was focused on something, but there wasn¡¯t anything where he was looking. At least not at first.


    An obvious explanation came after a few seconds of inaction. Strange clicking sounds filled her ears as the stone wall started to shift. The bookshelf placed in front of it sank into the floor and vanished, with a large metallic device rising to replace it. The artifact, which was covered from head to toe in runic engravings, whirred to life as soon as its position was locked. The seven rings that made up its face span in alternating directions, with each rotating at its own distinct speed. Claire felt a strange but familiar sensation as the cryptic letters pulsed in different colours, a distinctive pull she immediately recognised as belonging to force magic.


    A brown-black rift opened up in front of the device, a dimensional crack, a portal that led to a matching machine. It was similar to the magical rifts that led to the lost library¡¯s various subregions, but far less refined. Through it, she could sense and even see its partner. The coupled machine was close by, just a few dozen meters away.


    Frederick emerged from the portal after a brief delay, dragging with him a cart adorned with metal and leather. All in all, there were several dozen pieces of armour, with their styles and dimensions as varied as the colours in an artist¡¯s palette.


    ¡°Wait here already, lassie? Have good idea then, me did. Make up for stupid earlier.¡± he grunted. ¡°Forgot ask for size or type. Brought lots for you try. Seem no good then will get more.¡±


    He moved the trolley in front of her and grinned as she gave it a stare. Claire had no idea what half the pieces were, and frankly, there were many that she very much enjoyed knowing nothing about. Then and there, she decided that the less-than-modest pieces shaped like lewd undergarments existed only to be ignored.

 Chapter 106 - Dreams and Delusions IX

    Chapter 106 - Dreams and Delusions IX


    Sorting through the armour was a long and arduous process. Claire wasn¡¯t quite sure how she was meant to sort or order the different pieces. Her initial approach came in the form of categorizing them by their function. Breastplates were kept separate from gauntlets, which were further set aside from helmets and battleskirts. The approach seemed somewhat sensible at first, but it didn¡¯t take long for her to realise that complete sets were being broken into smaller individual pieces. Undoing the organisational damage was far more difficult than inflicting it; she wasn¡¯t entirely sure which part was meant to belong to which whole. They weren¡¯t exactly the most distinct pieces in the world. Aesthetically, most fell into one of three design patterns with only the details varying drastically. Sorting by thickness was equally as unsuccessful, with pieces of the same set often varying based on their intended position.


    Fortunately, there was no one to judge her mistakes. Beckard and Frederick were on the other side of a large folding screen, discussing something about gauntlets, and Sylvia was still sound asleep. The fairy had been yoinked off her mount¡¯s head and set on top of the partition, the only place where she wasn¡¯t at risk of being crushed by a stray piece of metal.


    After trying on a few random pieces and ultimately sorting the various sets by their detailed patterns, Claire eventually settled on one of the lighter sets. Its primary feature was a small breastplate with a metal skirt that only fit when she wasn¡¯t equipped with a pair of horse-like legs. It came with a stuffy-looking, full-face helmet, but she didn¡¯t bother trying it on. Her ears wouldn¡¯t fit, and more importantly, she didn¡¯t like the aesthetic. The bone-based engravings were far too messy and barbaric for her to consider it an option.


    Emulating the material proved surprisingly simple. It only took her a few tries to mimic the thin metal sheets and a few more to adjust the skirt so that it would fit even when she wasn¡¯t transformed. She even managed to carve a slot in the chest for her spike, just so she could show off its beautiful glow. Though functional, the armour was uncomfortable, so she formed a few pieces of cloth underneath, a soft silken robe that went all the way down to her knees. The new layer did its job, but that was where the good news came to an immediate end. A quick test of durability¡ªa self-inflicted tail whip¡ªwas all it took for the armour to crumple. Jagged metal pieces dug into her side and tore open her skin, inflicting a wound far worse than what she would have received had she not been wearing any armour.


    Did I do something wrong? She grit her teeth and grimaced as both the flesh and steel went through their respective restoration processes, with the magical-mantle-turned-metal-deathtrap being the quicker of the two. Her body¡¯s restorative process was not exactly slow, but neither was it quick enough to match the rune-covered cloak. It took a few minutes of waiting for the 100 damage scratch to fade into her flesh.


    In the meantime, she directed her attention to the model she duplicated and examined it for any obvious discrepancies. But as far as she could tell, there were none. Chest hole and skirt shape aside, her copy was indistinguishable. And that was precisely why she put the original breastplate through an identical durability test.


    She swung her tail like a whip and thwacked it dead center. There was a loud crack, followed by the groaning of metal as the poor plate collapsed with even greater ease than the modified skirt sitting on her torso.


    Why is it useless? Are all the others like this too?


    Claire creased her brow and got to experimenting. She flailed her tail around the partitioned room and bashed at random pieces of armour. Though most of the leather garments were unscathed, their metallic brethren were not nearly as fortunate. The thinnest ones crumpled immediately; a single blow was often more than enough to permanently disfigure them. Their thicker counterparts could take a few more hits, but not even the heaviest suit could hold its shape for more than three.


    ¡°Stop! Stop, no be crazy break everything!¡± The items¡¯ uninsured owner charged straight through the folding screen and grabbed her tail just before it busted its way through a set of metal delicates. ¡°Explain!¡± His spit flew everywhere as he shouted at the top of his lungs. ¡°Break merchandise no funny! Keep break things then me break you!¡± His veins bulged as he scanned the partition and found nearly everything dented. ¡°Explain now or me take as threat!¡±


    ¡°I was trying to find something durable.¡± She yanked her tail out of his fingers. ¡°But none of it is able to take any big hits.¡±


    ¡°Taking hits, you striking!?¡± His voice trembled as he fell on his rear and buried his face in one of his palms. ¡°Understand now. Think you know armour, me did. Thinked wrong, me did. Jumped to conclusions and now suffer.¡±


    Claire blinked. ¡°Armour is meant to take hits.¡±


    ¡°Well, yes and no.¡± A third voice entered the conversation from the other side of the partition ¡°You are on the right track, but a little off the mark. It is, of course, meant to protect you, but different types of armour are better at dealing with different types of damage.¡± Beckard walked over and climbed on top of a desk to pat his old friend on the back. ¡°Most of the metallic armour Fred brought is best for protecting against slashing weapons. If you want protection against blunt force trauma, then you¡¯re typically best off with something made of leather, or perhaps a padded jacket.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Claire picked up a half-broken metal piece and took a minute to stare at all the strange patterns cut into its side. ¡°But most monsters don¡¯t use sharp weapons. What¡¯s the point?¡±


    ¡°Can no believe. Have runecloak but no idea how use. Act like idiot, break me hard work¡± complained the smith. He picked up a random plate and tapped it with a hammer he pulled out from his belt. A few light hits later, and it was right back to its prior pristine condition. ¡°Need have metal under leather cloak. Protect first with leather, then if leather cut, metal stop cut. Wear padding underneath, help dull force.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem right,¡± said Claire. ¡°The knights back home only wore one or the other.¡±


    ¡°Fight other people then no need leather, lassie. Cut and stab with sharp weapons most of time, so metal better. Use leather like me say be wasteful, expensive and no last long. Fix self mean runecloak different, no use same way. Can¡¯t think and use right then wasting. Should give back to Archibald.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Claire turned its outermost layer back into a leather mantle and pulled it tightly around herself. ¡°It¡¯s mine now.¡±


    ¡°I doubt that this will change your mind, but for what it¡¯s worth, he is likely to offer you a reward if you decide to return it to him,¡± said Beckard.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. Mine,¡± hissed the halfbreed.


    The declaration was followed by a loud yawn. ¡°Can¡¯t you guys quiet it down a bit?¡± Sylvia complained, raised her hips, and stretched like a cat. It was a bit of an eyebrow raising sight, given that she was still in her fairy form, but none of the observers chose to comment. ¡°I¡¯m trying to nap. I barely got any sleep last night, and it¡¯s only been like two hours.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Now you¡¯re awake,¡± said Claire. ¡°Took you long enough.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Did I miss something?¡±


    ¡°Yes. The world¡¯s ending. Alfred is going to destroy the citadel and take Llystletein with it.¡±


    ¡°Oh crap! He found out about the thing!?¡±


    ¡°What thing?¡±


    ¡°The thing! Wait¡­¡±


    The two halfbreeds exchanged a pair of stares, with one completely flustered and the other somewhat confused. Likewise, the men in the room were also reacting in completely different ways. Frederick was in panic mode. He scanned with a hurried gaze and fumbled around in his pockets, breathing a sigh of relief only after he retrieved a glowing cube-shaped artifact and raised it to his face. Beckard, on the other hand, was chuckling with his head lowered and a paw pressed against his forehead.


    ¡°Sylvia.¡± Claire narrowed her eyes.


    ¡°W-what?¡± The fairy slowly backed away and lowered herself beneath the folding screen. Her ears were folded back and her eyes were kept just barely above the divider¡¯s peak.


    ¡°What did you do?¡±


    ¡°Nothing! Why do you always think it¡¯s my fault!?¡±


    ¡°Is it not?¡±


    ¡°No! It¡¯s everyone else¡¯s fault this time! Blame them!¡± She pointed her tail at each of the two men in turn. ¡°Not me!¡±


    Claire looked around the room and noted the awkward smile on the priest¡¯s face before turning back to the fairy and speaking with her usual deadpan tone. ¡°I was joking.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Sylvia dropped to the floor, took on her four-legged form, and breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Whew! Don¡¯t scare me like that.¡±


    ¡°Now explain. What¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a secret,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°Not a very good one,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Well I can¡¯t tell you anyway! He¡¯ll find out for sure since you talk in your sleep.¡±


    ¡°Explain,¡± repeated the lyrkress.


    ¡°Worry no, explain soon, me will,¡± said Frederick. ¡°Need wait little longer, almost ready. Keep patience, will be good for you, lassie.¡±


    Claire closed her eyes and took a breath. ¡°Fine.¡± It wasn¡¯t worth chasing the topic any further. The goblin king was clearly thrice ascended, and she wanted to avoid angering him, given that he had already started to threaten her. Digging deeper would have to wait until she was alone with the fox.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Beckard. ¡°Now, I think it¡¯s safe to say you¡¯re done with your armour?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m done,¡± she agreed.


    ¡°Excellent.¡± He clapped his paws together. ¡°Now why don¡¯t we all go our separate ways and pretend this conversation never happened?¡±


    ¡°Agree, me is.¡± Frederick nodded as he continued hammering away at the various half-broken pieces of metal strewn all over the floor.


    ¡°Yup! Me too!¡± said Sylvia. The half-fox placed her hands on her hips and nodded with almost excessive vigour.


    Taking another look around the room, Claire heaved a sigh and began walking towards the door. ¡°Fine.¡±


    ¡°Fine indeed,¡± said Beckard. ¡°Ah, yes. One more thing before you go.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°When are you planning to leave for Crabby Crags? Lova¡¯s group will need some time to prepare.¡±


    ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be a problem,¡± said Claire. ¡°I need to take a nap.¡± She opened the door and looked down the phantom staircase, which for whatever reason led back to the second floor, before turning around. ¡°Thank you, Beckard. And you too, Frederick.¡±


    ¡°Anytime, child of Flux.¡±


    I thought I told him to stop calling me that.


    ¡°Keep alive, lassie,¡± said Frederick. ¡°Need you gather materials, pay me back for damages.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°See ya guys!¡± Sylvia flew up Claire¡¯s back and crawled into her hood. ¡°Wait, did you just say you¡¯re gonna nap?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Then what the heck am I supposed to do? I just woke up! I won¡¯t be able to go back to sleep right now.¡±


    A small smirk appeared on Claire¡¯s face. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like my problem.¡±


    ¡°You could come down to the cathedral and join the crowd,¡± suggested Beckard. ¡°Most will be drinking and open to conversation.¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ no thanks.¡± Sylvia¡¯s ears drooped.


    ¡°Can drop by forge,¡± said Frederick.


    ¡°That might be a little too loud for me. Oh well, I¡¯ll figure something out. Thanks guys, bye!¡± The fox waved a hand from left to right and bid her farewells.


    ¡°Stay well,¡± said the priest.


    ¡°Return with materials.¡± His goblin companion grunted as he began tidying up his things and getting ready to return to the forge.


    ¡°If you¡¯re still tired, I can tickle you until you run out of breath and fall asleep,¡± said Claire, as she closed the door behind her and walked down the steps.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ Claire? I really don¡¯t think passing out is the same as falling asleep.¡±


    ¡°Might not be. But I have other ways of putting you to sleep too.¡±


    ¡°That sounds really suspicious, so no thank you!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°You¡¯ll enjoy it,¡± said Claire. ¡°Promise.¡±


    ¡°You promise?¡± The fox blinked a few times. ¡°Well I guess there¡¯s no harm in trying, but if this is just a prank, I¡¯m gonna get super mad and ignore you for a whole week,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. It¡¯s not.¡±


    ¡°You saying that just makes me even more suspicious!¡±


    Shrugging, Claire slithered up a ladder and navigated her way to her supposedly private quarters. The tiny storage unit wasn¡¯t the most secure thing in the world, but fiddling with the door¡¯s handle confirmed that the lock was at least fairly functional. Her centaurian legs were dismissed as soon as she stepped inside. The space was too cramped; she had to take on her old humanoid form just so she could stretch out her body.


    ¡°Get out of my hood if you don¡¯t want to fall.¡±


    Having seated herself on the bed and settled down, she waited for Sylvia to plop onto the mattress before transforming the overcloak into a nightgown. She wasn¡¯t quite feeling the usual white dress, so she opted for a light blue tint, to match with her hair and scales.


    She didn¡¯t know how or why, but the cloak would always clean itself whenever it transformed. The bizarre feature saved her a lot of trouble; not having to launder her equipment was a godsend. She had never thoroughly washed anything herself, courtesy of the manor¡¯s maidservants, and her previous cloaks were never exactly sanitised, after being covered in gore.


    ¡°Okay.¡± Claire tapped her lap. ¡°Now turn into a fox and come here.¡±


    ¡°Geez, you¡¯re so demanding today.¡± Sylvia crawled right over and transformed, but only after shaking her head and heaving an exaggerated sigh. ¡°I¡¯m only gonna listen because I¡¯m nice.¡±


    ¡°You mean stunted.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not mentally stunted!¡±


    ¡°No one said anything about it being mental,¡±


    ¡°I hate you, Claire. You¡¯re way too mean!¡±


    ¡°Thanks. I love me too.¡±


    The lyrkress placed a hand on the fox¡¯s head and slowly traced it down the length of her spine.


    ¡°Eek!¡± Sylvia squealed, leapt into the air, and landed on a nearby wall. ¡°I thought you said you weren¡¯t going to tickle me!¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t meant to tickle,¡± said Claire, with a small pout.


    ¡°Well it did!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll use a bit more force this time.¡±


    ¡°Somehow, I think that might be even worse,¡± mumbled Sylvia, as she dragged herself back into the humanoid¡¯s lap.


    Attempt number two went significantly more smoothly. She massaged the tips of her fingers into the fox¡¯s pelt with one hand and scratched her chin and ears with the other.


    ¡°Oh wow! This feels really good,¡± said Sylvia, who closed her eyes and raised her head.


    A mischievous smile appeared on Claire¡¯s face as she fiddled with the base of the canid¡¯s tail. ¡°I¡¯m just copying what I saw people do at a spa for pets.¡±


    The establishment was one of the more popular ones on Valencia¡¯s main street and Claire had passed it every time she went from the manor to the castle. She had never been inside the shop, but their large open windows had allowed her to see how they worked. Father never did let me have a pet. I still don¡¯t know why he insisted I¡¯d be a terrible owner.


    ¡°Wha!? I¡¯m not a pet!¡± cried the fox.


    ¡°You kind of look like a cat with a bushy tail if I ignore your head.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a cat! Even if I do meow every once in a while!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Claire pinched one of the fox¡¯s ears. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be able to touch you if you were.¡±


    ¡°Is it really still bothering you that much?¡±


    ¡°I can hear them meowing whenever I close my eyes.¡±


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ wow. That¡¯s really bad.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s getting better. On its own.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s umm¡­ good, I guess.¡±


    There was a moment of silence as Claire massaged the fox¡¯s cheeks. She kneaded them for a long time, carefully and thoroughly, as if to make up for all the times she had wrenched them out of shape.


    ¡°Oooo, that really hits the spot,¡± said Sylvia. Her words were distorted. ¡°I dunno if it¡¯s really gonna put me to sleep, but I¡¯m definitely enjoying it!¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay. I didn¡¯t really need to sleep more anyway.¡±


    ¡°Not that,¡± said the rogue. ¡°I¡¯ve been meaner to you lately. Since yesterday.¡±


    ¡°Oh uhmmm¡­ well¡­ I guess that¡¯s kinda my fault.¡±


    Claire frowned. ¡°There¡¯s that. But I was also having fun.¡±


    ¡°Wait! You weren¡¯t just being mean because you were mad at me!?¡± Sylvia turned around and raised both her paws. ¡°What the heck! I¡¯m starting to have some real second thoughts about your definition of fun.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with it.¡± The lyrkress twisted her lips into a pout. ¡°Fun is fun.¡±


    ¡°There was that one time with the poor kryddarian too! That was just mean, not fun!¡±


    ¡°I got carried away that time too.¡±


    ¡°When don¡¯t you?¡± The fox gave her groomer a nit of side-eye before turning around to face her.


    Claire put a finger on her chin and tilted her head. ¡°When I need to keep up appearances, like when I went to a ball last month.¡±


    A brief memory of the event flashed through her mind. It was anything but pleasant, and she had been forced to spend the majority of the night dealing with the various incompetents in her age group. If she was a failure in her father¡¯s eyes, then they were nothing but whining sacks of garbage, their only purpose to be married off and used in politics.


    ¡°A ball? Like a round thing?¡± Sylvia hummed a tune and formed a small round bubble with her magic.


    ¡°A formal event for dancing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that kind of ball! That sounds like it could be lots of fun.¡±


    ¡°Hardly.¡± Claire scrunched up her face. ¡°Old perverts spend the whole night staring at your ears.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that isn¡¯t so bad. Al does stuff like that all the time.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s a good thing,¡± muttered the blueblood.


    ¡°He¡¯s actually really fun to be around when he isn¡¯t being a huge perv.¡±


    ¡°I think your definition of fun might just be worse than mine.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ maybe. Now that I think about it, he might just be the reason I stay in my fox form most of the time in the first place.¡±


    ¡°Disgusting.¡±


    ¡°On the bright side, I think he¡¯s a bit better now than he was a few thousand years ago. Or at least that¡¯s what Grant says.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°There¡¯s no way that is better.¡±


    ¡°Oh trust me, it is¡­¡± Sylvia placed a paw on her face. ¡°You must not know much about Llystletein¡¯s history.¡±


    ¡°Nope. All I¡¯ve ever heard was that it¡¯s where dreams go to die.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ that¡¯s kinda true I guess.¡± Sylvia leaned back into her mount¡¯s lap. ¡°I don¡¯t really know how accurate the records are, but ummm¡­ do you remember what I told you last time?¡±


    ¡°Kind of.¡±


    ¡°Well I¡¯m not really sure, so I¡¯ll kinda start whenever,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Apparently Llystletein used to be this super well-off country way back in the past. Al was already a celestial back then, and he was basically its god-king.¡±


    ¡°He was a king?¡± Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°He lacks the charisma.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t really think he¡¯s up to snuff either, but apparently he was. Maybe it¡¯s because he changed. That was like a whole twenty thousand years ago.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean catgirls are less than twenty thousand years old?¡±


    ¡°Yup! Al didn¡¯t make his first batch until a few thousand years after the purge.¡±


    ¡°The purge?¡± Claire stifled a yawn as she shrank her shard, hugged Sylvia to her chest, and laid down. She¡¯s like a stuffed animal. Just not stuffed.


    ¡°Right, I forgot I needed to explain everything.¡± Both the fairy¡¯s ears flopped as she took a deep breath. ¡°So basically, Al tried to um¡­ put together a huge orgy with gods and mortals and stuff. Flitzegarde found out and decided that she didn¡¯t really like his idea.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you said that with a straight face,¡± said Claire, with a slightly reddened scowl.


    ¡°You uhmmm¡­ wind up getting desensitized to it if you¡¯re around it for long enough,¡± mumbled Sylvia. ¡°Anyway, she basically decided that she wanted to punish him, so she purged the heck out of his whole country. He managed to set up a barrier around his royal library, and she couldn¡¯t quite get in, so she decided to seal the whole thing off. Then to make it worse, she made sure to cut off his ability to make contact with the outside world.¡±


    The lyrkress closed her eyes as she slowly worked through all the information the fox had presented. ¡°So the goddess of order enforced order.¡±


    It was the sort of story that was frequently repeated in a number of different contexts. Flitzegarde was known for bringing down the divine hammer whenever it was necessary, and sometimes even when it wasn¡¯t. Her definition of order was widely preached, but many saw her rules as suffocating and denounced her as more of a tyrant than a benevolent administrator.


    ¡°Pretty much, yup!¡±


    ¡°This is my first time hearing so much about Llystletein.¡± She took her remaining hand off the fox and crossed her arms. ¡°Outside, no one seems to know anything about its history. There is an absurd amount of speculation, but its name is the only real consistency. Maybe the goddess of order has something to do with that.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ Al¡¯s a part of it too. Apparently, he was really happy when he first made catgirls, but then Flitzgarde found out and decided he wasn¡¯t allowed to be happy, so she banned all catgirls from Llystletein. He¡¯s been trying to break out ever since, and people knowing about it is a big part of his plan.¡±


    Claire smiled. ¡°He deserves that.¡±


    ¡°You wanna know the ironic part? The only reason Flitzegarde was really mad was apparently because the first batch was made in her image.¡±


    ¡°Gross.¡± The lyrkress kneaded her brow before breathing a sigh. ¡°How are we supposed to get out if not even Alfred can?¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not that he can¡¯t, exactly. He¡¯d just get sealed right back in the moment he broke out, so he¡¯s been cooking up a plan to beat Flitzegarde. The rest of us can¡¯t really do it though.¡± Sylvia¡¯s voice began trailing off. ¡°That¡¯s um¡­ why I tried to harvest you.¡±


    ¡°So you could break out?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a little more complicated than that. But kinda. Since I really want to see the outside world, and waiting too long is gonna kill me.¡± The fox¡¯s tail rhythmically flicked back and forth as she continued. ¡°Oh, and make sure you don¡¯t pick up the seventh hexstone. Six is okay and will make you stronger, but seven is really bad. You¡¯ll get instantly harvested and Al¡¯ll do some weird stuff with your soul. He might even try drinking it right away if you¡¯re unlucky.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you should be telling me that?¡±


    ¡°Mhm! I care more about us being friends than I do about Al¡¯s hopes and dreams.¡±


    Claire frowned. ¡°I find that hard to believe.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Sylvia¡¯s tail drooped. ¡°But it¡¯s true.¡±


    The lyrkress resumed her massage, starting first with the fox¡¯s ears. ¡°If it makes you feel any better, I¡¯m not dismissing it outright. Even though the whole story seems as absurd as an old legend.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s because that¡¯s kinda what it is!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And uhmm¡­ thanks. For trying to trust me.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°I told you I would. Sort of.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know! But I was expecting you to hold more of a grudge.¡±


    ¡°Noble ladies don¡¯t hold grudges.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you!¡±


    ¡°Well it¡¯s true.¡± Sticking out her tongue, Claire gave her four-legged companion one last scratch before closing her eyes and surrendering her consciousness to the void.

 Chapter 106.5 - A Song of Insult and Injury

    Chapter 106.5 - A Song of Insult and Injury


    With a visible scowl sitting on her face, the goddess of the eternal flow swept her gaze over the cosmic backdrop and watched as the various divine entities returned to their respective private quarters. The weekly pantheon-wide stand-up was entirely unnecessary, but Flitzegarde forced everyone through it nonetheless. The goddess of order was always a stickler for the rules, the vast majority of which were unsolicited and unilaterally decided by either the self-righteous rat or another member of her faction.


    As much as she wanted to object to the scheduled meetings, she didn¡¯t dare raise her voice or make any unnecessary declarations. She had no intention of inspiring the wrong divine and starting another all-out war, not after she had spent three dozen centuries disparaging Builledracht for making that exact mistake. She knew that he would never let her hear the end of it if she followed in his footsteps. Pursing her lips again, the nebula-eyed deity emitted a burst of divine energy and warped to the domain she had declared as her own.


    She tapped a finger against the open space in front of her and brought up her administrative panel. It had only been a few minutes since the hundreds of gods and goddesses began speeding through their activities, but she had already accrued a number of important agenda items, with the cycle being first and foremost. Most of the souls waiting to be reincarnated required little attention. The system processed them at the usual steady rate and set them off on new paths, based heavily on their greatest regrets. Those that wished for peace would be placed within the everyday gentry, while those that died lamenting a lack of income would often be born into merchant families. Fallen warriors that still craved violence were given monstrous bodies and cast into harsh environments, where they would be able to clash against one another and shed all the blood they so desired.


    It was nearly a perfect cycle, with the only issues stemming from eccentric data points. Flux would, of course, actively maintain it. She often updated the algorithm to account for common outliers and accommodate new trends. The state of the world was never stagnant, and it was not always possible to grant a soul¡¯s wish, especially in the case that said wish was overly specific. It was difficult to appease a man whose sole desire was to orchestrate the fall of a particular nation. The sovereign entity in question would often be dissolved by the time the individual was finally given life again, as souls with their wills still alight would go through a mandatory treatment process to cleanse them of their impurities. It had taken only a few experiments for the goddess to understand that a lamenting spirit could not be allowed back onto the mortal plane, and that it was often unsafe to reincarnate an individual in the era of their prior death. Quarantine, cleansing, and isolation were all required to prevent the departeds¡¯ memories from surfacing in their subsequent incarnations. That process was, of course, handled automatically by the system. For the most part, she was hands off, save for the case that there was an unexpected exception. And it was precisely one such entity that had grabbed the goddess¡¯ attention.


    The individual in question was one with which another divine had tampered, an old spirit with an unfulfilled destiny, assigned by Primrose, goddess of the harvest. If not for her, the system would have been able to handle him on its own. His profile did not suggest any major laments, and the pure energy given off by his soul was indicative of a man with few regrets.


    ¡°Airheaded imbecile,¡± spat the goddess. ¡°I¡¯ve told that brainless plant lover a thousand times that destinies are only ever fulfilled by happenstance, but her skull is as thick as Mara¡¯s crust.¡±


    Catching herself in the midst of clicking her tongue, the annoyed divine composed herself and summoned the freshly deceased mortal to her plane. The elderly soul was so fresh that it still maintained its prior form, with no obvious distortion even in death.


    ¡°Gudmund Johannsson. Welcome to the hall of passing.¡± She slowly walked towards him as a grand hall formed around them, her steps echoing off the non-existent walls.


    The old turtle craned his neck up to look at her, his eyes still hazy and unfocused. He narrowed them first as he looked at her, only to open them wide as he caught her most notable feature, the single branching horn that sprouted from the right side of her head. His face began to twist, changing from surprise to understanding to sorrow and pride.


    Tears streamed down the side of his cheeks as he cast his gaze around the room, at its porcelain white walls and its glimmering marble floor.


    ¡°I knew.¡± His words came gradually, one at a time. ¡°I knew¡­ that it was going to be time, one of these days. But I just¡­ wish my body could have held on a little longer.¡±


    ¡°Do you have any regrets?¡± asked the goddess.


    The bipedal turtle didn¡¯t speak immediately, slowly nodding instead with his flippers clenched. ¡°My granddaughter was meant to be born next week. I at least wanted to hold her, once.¡±


    ¡°Then you may do exactly that, departed one.¡± The goddess gently wrapped his fingers with a magical grip and raised them. ¡°Come, let us go two weeks into the future.¡±


    Without waiting for him to reply, she looked into his mind, gathered all the necessary details, and crafted an intricate illusion, a highly accurate prediction of the weeks to come. Their surroundings took on the form of a beachside community. Together, they walked along the beach and entered a smaller hut by the seaside, the ancient home that the man had passed onto his only child.


    Gudmund¡¯s lips trembled as he cast his gaze on his daughter, who was basking by the window with a much smaller turtle placed atop her shell. ¡°Is that her?¡± His voice was as unsteady as his mouth. It shook, over and over, as its owner slowly lumbered towards his kin.


    But he never made it as far as entering their line of sight. He suddenly stopped in the middle of taking a step and returned his rear flipper to its previous position atop the sandy shore. ¡°Thank you, goddess. I think I¡¯ve had enough now.¡±


    His eyes were locked onto a small mound set just behind the hut, marked with a small wooden plank. A grave. His grave.


    ¡°Are you certain you do not wish to hold her?¡± asked Flux.


    ¡°I am,¡± said the reptile. ¡°I¡¯m happy just to have seen her.¡± Placing his front flippers behind his back, he turned to the water and looked upon the beautiful horizon, the Ryllian Sea, glimmering in all its glory. ¡°I¡¯ve lived a long life.¡± His head rose, slowly, as he craned it towards the sun. ¡°I¡¯ve had my fair share of happiness, a loving wife, a beautiful daughter, and the best of friends. I fear that seeking any more would leave none for my descendants.¡±


    ¡°Then so be it.¡± The glowing nebula within the goddess¡¯ eyes almost seemed to swirl as she undid the simulation and returned the two to their previous positions. ¡°Do you have any other regrets?¡±


    ¡°None,¡± said the old man. ¡°I¡¯m ready to move on.¡±


    With a pitying, almost sorrowful glance, Flux placed a rune on the man¡¯s chest and enacted another spell. When she removed the ancient letter, it was accompanied by a wad of crimson magic that came together to form the bud of a rose. ¡°It is unfortunate, but I am unable to return you to the cycle,¡± she said. ¡°Your destiny has yet to be fulfilled.¡±


    ¡°My destiny?¡± The old man looked at her with his eyes wide. ¡°What, great goddess, might that have been?¡±


    ¡°You were meant to become the best gardener in the Ryllian, the pinnacle of agriculture, and a walking embodiment of Primrose¡¯s might.


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    The old man stared at her for a few moments before breaking into a hearty laugh. ¡°Me? Primrose¡¯s champion? That¡¯s absurd.¡±


    ¡°The opportunity was only a few missed chances away,¡± said Flux. ¡°When you were much younger, you turned down an invitation to experiment with the craft.¡±


    ¡°I did?¡± He pondered for a moment. ¡°I can¡¯t quite remember anything of the sort.¡±


    ¡°It was the neighbour that moved in next door, during your seventh year,¡± said Flux.


    ¡°I see¡­¡± Gudmund closed his eyes and lowered his head. ¡°Is any harm going to come to my family?¡±


    ¡°Do not worry. They will not be touched,¡± said Flux. ¡°It affects nothing but the options that remain to you.¡± Two large doors took shape behind her as she spoke. ¡°On your left is the option to be reborn as a child with all of your memories intact. And on your right, you may find the choice to have your slate wiped clean and proceed without any memory of the life you just lived.¡±


    A pair of doors appeared behind her, one for each option.


    ¡°The choice is yours. Whatever the case, I wish you a wonderful journey. May your new life be filled with blessings and joy.¡±


    Knowing that his decision was already made, she silently walked past the old man and left him to finalize his fate.


    ___


    With Primrose¡¯s exception and three other troublesome cases out of the way, Flux directed her attention back to the seventh world and its various affairs. She scanned the ranks of her representatives for any obvious blasphemy, acknowledged the vows awaiting her consent, and orchestrated a great flood before finally turning her eyes on a patchwork soul in one of only five lyrkrian shells.


    The timing was perfect. Claire had just closed her eyes and fallen asleep. Her mind had yet to be taken from its isolation, so the goddess capitalized on the rare opportunity and did it herself. A few button presses was all she needed to call the half-ancient entity from its slumber and summon it into the divine realm.


    Like the heavens, which changed to reflect the mortal¡¯s perceptions, Flux¡¯s form went through a series of shifts as the administrative spell manifested. Her clawed feet vanished, the segmented antler on her head receded, and she turned from a quadrupedal illuminated beast to a humanoid with half the leg count¡ªthe form she had assumed to avoid influencing the mortal¡¯s ascension.


    And then she undid it.


    Back and forth she switched, settling on a final answer only as time began to run out, a hundredth of a second after the summoning process began. In the end, she chose her humanoid form, but kept her horn where it was, a vague hint the halfbreed was incapable of fully understanding.


    ¡°Good morning, Claire.¡±


    ¡°Good morning, Box.¡±


    Flux smiled softly as she looked upon the young lyrkress. There was no blood connection. But she couldn¡¯t help but feel as if their mouths and noses shared a resemblance.


    ¡°I thought we weren¡¯t going to see each other again until my second ascension,¡± said Claire, with a suspicious glare.


    ¡°I have summoned you to inspect your progress and question your unreasonable recklessness.¡± The goddess brushed off the attempt at intimidation without so much as a second thought. ¡°How far have you come?¡±


    It was a question with its answer long known. Flux had kept a close eye on Claire¡¯s log and penned many of the entries herself. As she always had.


    ¡°I¡¯m not even close,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°It¡¯ll take a long time. I¡¯ve yet to hit level 100.¡±


    The illuminated beast almost wanted to praise her, but she knew better than that. The child¡¯s essence was forged in part from one of the most conceited that had ever been. ¡°If you remain incapable of progressing rapidly even with such recklessness, then you cannot be anything but incompetent.¡±


    ¡°Sure, Box. Whatever you say.¡± Claire rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. Even though she had picked up on the insult¡¯s undertone. ¡°And I¡¯m not that reckless. Most of it was calculated.¡±


    ¡°Yes, just as how destroying the goblin king¡¯s wares was necessary.¡±


    ¡°Entirely.¡±


    Flux slowly closed her eyes and reopened them. ¡°I simply do not understand where you acquired your lack of intellect. Your mother may have been slightly below average, but your father was brilliant.¡±


    ¡°Do not insult my mother,¡± hissed Claire.


    ¡°It was a statement of fact, not an insult.¡± The divine stepped forward, stopping less than a meter from her subject. ¡°I do not bear any ill will towards your mother, Claire. Dimwitted as she may have been, it was her determination that led to the unlikely event of your birth. Even with my aid, it would not have been possible without the effort she put forth.¡±


    The half-snake shrugged. ¡°Are you going to explain why I¡¯m here?¡±


    The goddess opened her mouth to speak, but stopped and turned as she caught a presence entering her domain, a familiar chain-tailed man dressed in a tuxedo. Builledracht was supposed to have known better than to interrupt her time with a subject, but showed no guilt as he stepped over and joined the group with a casual nod. He was hardly the only one. A voluptuous, scantily clad arachne with a glaive strapped to her back stepped out of a second dimensional fissure, and like the last dragon, joined the circle as if it were simply the most natural thing to do.


    ¡°Good morning, Claire.¡± The man adjusted the cuffs on his suit as he spoke. ¡°I¡¯m afraid Flux doesn¡¯t quite have any business with you today, but the two of us would like a few words.¡±


    The goddess¡¯ brow twitched as she slowly closed her mouth. He wasn¡¯t entirely incorrect, but there was no way for her to make up a natural excuse without compromise. She could not bring up the burnt fish with the other two gods present. The petty prank was an affront to her image and would reveal an abuse of the system.


    ¡°Builledracht, thank you for the many curses you have cast on my behalf. You have always answered my requests, despite my rituals¡¯ imperfections.¡± To Flux¡¯s dismay, the halfbred mortal took a knee and lowered her head to the two other deities. A level of respect that she refused to give her patron. ¡°And Vella, I thank you for the blessings that you so often bestow upon Cadria¡¯s warriors. The troops are fine as they are only because of your frequent and powerful blessings.¡±


    Flux knew that Claire was only expressing her gratitude to get on her nerves. And while she found the notion adorable, being aware of the halfbreed¡¯s intent only served to worsen her mood; she was practically green with envy.


    ¡°Your respect is acknowledged and appreciated,¡± said Builledracht. He grinned, slyly, as he cast a quick gaze in Flux¡¯s direction. ¡°Though I am no longer your patron, I wished to offer a piece of advice. Your next ascension is likely to feature a number of choices with scales and four legs. I highly advise you to select one of them. They will set you on a path to incredible power.¡±


    ¡°Builledracht!¡± Having had enough, the goddess of the eternal flow grabbed him by the shoulder, but he ignored her and continued to speak.


    ¡°It would be even better if you were to select something with mention of a ¡®dragon.¡¯ The race has been extinct for several thousand years, and I would appreciate it if you could bring it back into existence. I¡¯ll offer you a minor blessing in exchange, if you ever happen to become one.¡±


    ¡°You are mentally deficient and delusional. A qilin is a far better choice,¡± said Flux, in a low growl. ¡°Do not engage in any further discourse. She is my subject, not the inheritor of your blood.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m simply providing the advice I would have given had she still been sworn to me,¡± he said, with an amused glint in his eye.


    ¡°Thank you, great god of curses. I will endeavour to keep your words in mind,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Excellent. Then my business is concluded,¡± said the winged lizard. ¡°Please go right ahead, Vella. Thank you for waiting.¡±


    ¡°Not a problem,¡± grunted the spider lady. She smiled like a predator as she placed both hands on Claire¡¯s shoulders and licked her lips. ¡°I¡¯ll get right to the point. Abandon Flux and swear to me instead, as the heir of house Augustus has always done.¡± Her divinity swelled as she leaned forward, flaunted her assets, and got right in the mortal¡¯s face.


    Flux could feel her blood pressure rising, but she refrained from acting. Because she knew she wasn¡¯t the only one offended by the offer.


    ¡°Then maybe you should have asked a month ago, before I was disowned,¡± hissed the halfbreed. ¡°My father betrayed me. I have no intention of following in his footsteps.¡±


    Vella clicked her tongue as she turned to the other goddess. ¡°Flux! This is your fault!¡± She practically spat at the other goddess. ¡°Virillius¡¯ heir was meant to be a man! How am I meant to seduce a woman!?¡±


    ¡°You would never have had to ask that question were you ever anything more than a whore,¡± said Flux, with a smug grin. The deity lording over the cycle directed her attention back to the mortal for a split second and returned her to her body. None of the insults soon to be spoken were even remotely safe for the innocent child¡¯s ears.


    She opened her mouth as the heavenly realm returned to its default cosmic form and let loose an incredible stream of defamation, one accurate and awful enough to strike the goddess of phallic appreciation with a month-long fit of depression.

 Chapter 107 - Eel Season

    Chapter 107 - Eel Season


    Claire¡¯s eyes shot open as the dream came to an abrupt end. She was surprisingly well-rested. Her mind was clear and her body lacked all the lethargy that came with being at rest, but she didn¡¯t immediately rise from her less-than-comfortable bed. The rogue remained where she was, blinking as she went over the bizarre event that had happened in her sleep. There was no way to tell if it was meant to have any significance or if it had merely been another figment of her imagination. It was just as impossible to comprehend as the make-believe animals perched on her shoulder, both of whom were staring at her for no reason in particular.


    ¡°Seven hundred and ninety three fish... Seven hundred and ninety four fish¡­¡±


    Slowly craning her neck towards her feet, she located the source of the sound. Sylvia was curled up and her eyes were closed, but the fox was fidgeting nonstop; sleep didn¡¯t quite seem willing to bless her with its embrace.


    A small smirk on her face, Claire waited for the fox to get to 850 before finally speaking up. ¡°Counting doesn¡¯t work if you get past fifty.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Really? I think I was starting to get a little drowsy¡­¡± The vixen¡¯s ears perked up as she hopped over to the pillow. ¡°Oh ummm¡­ sorry. I didn¡¯t think I would wake you up since you usually sleep like a log.¡±


    ¡°It didn¡¯t. I¡¯m done sleeping.¡± The rogue sat up, raised her arms overhead, and stretched her back, not because her body needed to be jolted awake, but more so because it didn¡¯t feel right to completely skip the routine.


    Log Entry 2796


    Frostblight Lyrkrian Shapeshifting has reached level 17.


    ¡°Really? It hasn¡¯t even been an hour.¡±


    Claire shrugged and swung her legs out of bed. ¡°It was just a nap. I wasn¡¯t that tired.¡± She briefly paused to change into her outerwear, new armour and all. ¡°I just needed a break from all the talking and fighting.¡±


    The former activity had been particularly straining. Picking apart Beckard¡¯s intentions had taken a strenuous amount of effort, and his wart-nosed friend was just as hard to read. She had gone into the conversation with no idea what they were up to, what they wanted, or why they were willing to offer their resources and aid. The goblin¡¯s reactions were especially concerning; he was undoubtedly the most suspicious of the lot. Any other smith would have outright demanded reparations, regardless of whether the damage inflicted could be fixed with just a few taps. If they wanted to kill or capture me, they would have done it already. Maybe they¡¯re trying to use me as a decoy¡­ to cover up whatever it is they¡¯re trying to hide from Alfred.


    A frown on her face, she turned back into a lamia and slithered out the door. Discerning their intentions would remain an impossible task so long as she was unable to gather any information. The whole ordeal would have been a much easier task to handle had the two been a pair of Cadrian nobles. She would have been able to easily determine their priorities by looking at their backgrounds and recent dealings, but as it stood, she lacked the information to make any definitive conclusions. The continent-spanning spy network at her beck and call was gone, and in its place was nothing but an unreliable fox whose loyalty remained in question. She was going to have to gather the information she needed on her own.


    The blueblood shook her head as she tried and failed to locate the entrance to Beckard¡¯s office. The stairwell she could have sworn she saw just an hour prior was missing altogether, so she pulled her cloak over her head and climbed down the attic¡¯s ladder. The second floor was, for the most part, devoid of any notable persons. The occasional drunk lumbered through the halls, but it was otherwise completely free of any passersby.


    Navigating to the staircase, Claire heaved a sigh, pulled her hood over her ears, and reluctantly made her way into the cathedral-turned-bar. She didn¡¯t even need to flick her tongue to pick up on the stench of liquor. The distinctive scent filled the holy sanctuary and even seemed to seep into its walls and furniture, defiling it as would some sort of primeval evil.


    Straining her ears, she sifted through the various voices and pinpointed her targets. All three were gathered in one of the room''s far corners, discussing their plans over several plates of food. There weren¡¯t any tables or even conventional chairs, but neither they nor any of the other temporary occupants seemed to mind. Those that were less comfortable in the pews would simply sit on the ground and use the wooden benches as makeshift tables.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to be worried about,¡± said Myrtle. ¡°Beck would have spoken up if he thought Fred was putting us in danger.¡± The plant girl took a bite out of a boiled egg before continuing. ¡°Besides, I think you¡¯re just overreacting. She didn¡¯t seem anywhere as terrifying as you made her out to be. Cold, maybe, but not scary.¡±


    ¡°That coldness is what makes her scary.¡± Lova¡¯s face was pale, and not just because moth girls were naturally pasty.


    ¡°Perhaps, but it is unlikely that it is of any concern while we have the citadel¡¯s support.¡± The jellyfish had a strange manner of eating. He would only consume tiny morsels one at a time by sliding them beneath his bell.


    ¡°I know but¡­ but¡­¡±


    ¡°Wow, they¡¯re being really mean,¡± whispered Sylvia. ¡°But I guess it makes sense. I¡¯d be pretty freaked out by you too, if I was her.¡±


    ¡°Coward,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a coward! You literally told her that you were only hitting her for fun!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see a problem.¡±


    ¡°Well I see many!¡±


    Suppressing a chuckle, Claire stuck a hand into her hood and scratched the fairy¡¯s head before walking up to the table. ¡°I¡¯m not scary.¡± Evidently, the statement was false. Lova nearly jumped out of her pants when she turned around and noticed the not-cervitaur, but Claire ignored her and turned to the rest of the group. ¡°Are you ready?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll just need a few minutes to wrap up our breakfast,¡± said Myrtle. ¡°Would you like to join us?¡±


    The rogue had yet to eat breakfast, but she had no intention of sitting down and playing along. For one, their food was revolting. The jellyfish was consuming what looked to be a thick, slimy glob of mucus and the Kryddarian was eating a fresh insect, an arm-length dragonfly that twitched with every bite. The only dish that looked even remotely appetizing was the alraune¡¯s. She had in front of her a fairly standard breakfast, albeit with everything discoloured. The eggs had yellow whites and green yolks, the meat was glowing an offensively neon purple, and the untoasted bread was a deep jet black.


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    Even more dissauding than the unappetizing platter was the atmosphere. They were all close friends; there was no room for her to intrude on their dynamic, especially with Lova suddenly freezing up in her presence. The urge to torment the insect crept up within her chest, but she brushed it aside as she shook her head. Wait¡­ the Kryddarian is eating? I thought she went to sleep.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be in the attic. Just knock.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing. One of us will come up to grab you as soon as we¡¯re done,¡± said the plant.


    Nodding, Claire left without another word. The group, on the other hand, immediately broke into a ball of noise.


    ¡°You see how stone-faced she was?¡± whispered the Kryddarian. ¡°That is why she terrifies me!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be silly, Lova,¡± replied Myrtle, without suppressing her voice. ¡°She seemed nice enough.¡±


    The weaver pressed all four of her hands against her face. ¡°You say that about everybody. And I know she used to have legs, I swear to Builledracht! She must have done something to hide them!¡±


    ¡°It is not likely. Her clothing was tailored to her size, and I did not observe any legs on her person. Perhaps you were still half asleep and mistook them for her flippers,¡± said Grell. ¡°I have observed a few symptoms that may be indicative of night terrors.¡±


    ¡°Please just listen to me, Grell. She had them. I¡¯m sure of it,¡°


    ¡°If you are so convinced then it may be worth warranting an investigation so that you may come to a definitive conclusion.¡±


    You won¡¯t find anything, no matter how hard you look. Smirking, Claire wandered back up the stairs and summoned a plate of bread.


    ___


    Virillius Augustus was a strict instructor. Everyone he trained would soon learn that a lack of discipline would lead to a disproportionate amount of punishment. He would dock pay, assign additional training, and even fall back on petty harassment if it was the only effective approach. To that end, Claire was well accustomed to everyone around her being punctual. When the flower girl told her that they would be done in a few minutes, she expected to wait no more than five, ten at most.


    ¡°They¡¯re late.¡± She thwacked the tip of her tail against the floor as she polished off the rest of her bread. ¡°Where are they?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s only been half an hour,¡± chirped Sylvia, who was back in her fox-form.


    ¡°And they said a few minutes,¡± grumbled the snake. ¡°If they wanted me to wait half an hour, then they should have said half an hour.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on, it¡¯s not even a big deal. It¡¯s not like it changes much. We didn¡¯t really have anything to do anyway.¡±


    ¡°It is a big deal,¡± grumbled Claire. ¡°It¡¯s not about wasting time. It¡¯s about punctuality and integrity.¡±


    ¡°Neither of those are things that actually matter!¡±


    ¡°They matter. If you don¡¯t know someone, then their reputation is what you judge them by. You¡¯d know that, if you¡¯d ever lived outside of Llystletein.¡±


    ¡°Hey! That was super mean!¡± The fox¡¯s ears drooped. ¡°I thought you were done being bitter.¡±


    ¡°I am. I just got carried away again.¡±


    Sylvia sighed. ¡°I think I¡¯m starting to see a pattern, and it¡¯s not one I like.¡±


    ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Claire got off the bed, slithered to the door, and opened it before the group that gathered outside got close enough to knock. ¡°Hello.¡±


    All three potatoes were present and supposedly ready to go despite not exactly looking the part. The Kryddarian was the only one geared up. She had a thick leather cloak thick enough to ward off the rain and all of her belongings underneath it. The other two didn¡¯t bother putting on raincoats, likely because they weren¡¯t as concerned about getting wet. Claire was more surprised by their lack of armour. Neither party had even the slightest bit, despite their companion demonstrating that affording it was not beyond their means.


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s a surprise. How did you know we were here?¡± asked the plant, as she withdrew her hand.


    ¡°I could hear you.¡± She pulled her hood over her face and pulled her ears inside it. ¡°The Kryddarian¡¯s armour is loud.¡±


    Each of her steps had been accompanied by a heavy metal clink, a clear sign that she was wearing a metal suit beneath her outermost layer.


    Lova gulped. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°P-please don¡¯t mind me! I¡¯ll stay out of your way!¡± For reasons beyond the halfbreed¡¯s comprehension, the offhand remark caused the moth lady to step backwards and gulp.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind her,¡± said Myrtle. ¡°She¡¯s not great around strangers.¡±


    It was a blatant lie. Claire had already heard the Kryddarian explain that her problem was the demeanor, but she couldn¡¯t be bothered to comment. Picking a fight would be nothing but counterproductive, given that they had little choice but to spend a short but excessive amount of time in each others¡¯ presence.


    ¡°It is possible that she will warm up to you in time,¡± said Grell. The scyph, who was otherwise perfectly level, bobbed up and down whenever he spoke.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s what I did!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I didn¡¯t really think I¡¯d get too attached to her at first, but now we¡¯re super close.¡±


    Choosing not to comment, the lyrkress grabbed the furball and placed her atop her head. ¡°This is Sylvia. You didn¡¯t meet her earlier because she was asleep.¡±


    ¡°Hi, nice to meet all of you! I¡¯m Sylvia Redleaf, a Llystletein woodfox.¡± The vixen waved a paw. ¡°Wait, why didn¡¯t you tell me to hide? Wasn¡¯t I supposed to be trying to be stealthy?¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°They¡¯re going to see you eventually. Since they¡¯re coming with us. And the moth already saw you last time.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ right.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t worry too much about it anyway.¡± The talking flower giggled. ¡°We see Llystletein foxes out and about all the time. I¡¯m Myrtle, Murtt or Murty for short, a moonflower alraune.¡±


    ¡°Grell Starieff, infernal skyscyph. It is nice to finally meet you.¡± The jellyfish¡¯s glow dimmed briefly. ¡°Your father has mentioned you on what is most likely over a thousand different occasions.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to see you again Sylvia,¡± said Lova, with a meek nod.


    ¡°Yup! You too!¡± barked the fox.


    ¡°Okay. Introductions are done. Let¡¯s leave.¡± Claire pulled the key into her hand and locked the door behind her. ¡°What do I do with this? I don¡¯t need the room anymore.¡±


    ¡°Beckard is likely to find it if you leave it within the lock,¡± said Grell.


    Following the jellyfish¡¯s instructions with a nod, Claire followed the rest of the group down the ladder and made for Crabby Crags.


    To the halfbreed¡¯s surprise, the group wasn¡¯t as utterly incompetent as their lack of punctuality would have otherwise suggested. They weren¡¯t anywhere near as good as professional soldiers, but they actively maintained their lines, even when moving through the halls. The heavily armoured vanguard stayed in front while the other two marched side by side, a triangular formation that was actively kept consistent. Claire was almost impressed enough to offer an internal compliment. Until the party made its way out the front door.


    Both Lova and Grell found it difficult to resist the raging tempest, with the former slowing her pace to a crawl and the latter being blown away. His body was flung against the building and his insides were splattered all over it, sprayed from the bottom of his mouth. It looked as if the scyph had instantly died, but he was still alive. In fact, he was perfectly fine. The bizarre sea creature sucked his guts back into his body with a single breath and pushed himself off the wall with a strained groan.


    ¡°Perhaps I will fare better with someone else¡¯s body weight to assist. Murtt, would you mind lending me a tendril?¡±


    ¡°Of course not.¡± The alraune grabbed the sea creature with one of her hands and tied two of his tentacles to her knapsack.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said. ¡°Your patience is likely to be appreciated.¡±


    ¡°Today is going to be a long day.¡±


    Muttering under her breath, Claire pulled her hood over her eyes and did her best to zone out the idiots she had been made to escort.

 Chapter 108 - Eel Season II

    Chapter 108 - Eel Season II


    ¡°Why did I agree to this?¡±


    Claire grumbled under her breath as she paddled through the sea. Her undesired companions had done little but further demonstrate their incompetence. The alraune was struggling to walk across the ocean floor. Her roots didn¡¯t seem to take any damage, even from the sharpest stones, but the current was too strong for her. She needed to take a very specific, less-than-ideal path to traverse the deep without being washed away. The Kryddarian was even worse off¡ªshe had long given up on even trying to fight the waves. Claiming that she was too tired to put forth the effort, the moth wrapped herself up in a cocoon and asked the others to transport her while she rested.


    But the most infuriating of all was neither the lazy moth nor the dysfunctional plant, but rather the jellyfish. Despite his status as a Ryllian native¡ªa literal man of the sea¡ªhe had claimed that he was too afraid of the infinite abyss to enter the ocean. He opted instead to stay above the far waves and navigate through the airspace above. In spite of his inability to resist the storm. Long story short, he had joined the manatee, who for some odd reason, had managed to acquire the ability to fly. It was soaring through the skies, riding the various air currents and jumping between the clumps of vegetation swirling about within the tempest.


    ¡°How do you think he¡¯s gonna get back down?¡± asked Sylvia, who was also watching the scyph.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he is,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Mmmphhh¡­ mmpphhh mmrrrhh mmphh.¡±


    The plant girl walking ahead of them turned around and attempted to offer an explanation, but the water garbled her voice and transformed the words into a mess of unintelligible nonsense, though with things the way they were, Claire was starting to suspect that it wouldn¡¯t have mattered either way. As a party, they were severely lacking in brain cells, no doubt in part because neither the jellyfish nor the plant had any to begin with.


    In spite of their observed disabilities, the group managed to shape up and surprise the lyrkress as they approached the portal. The scyph almost seemed to suddenly regain control of his body right before they entered the cave. He dove through the water, popped up beside the alraune, and stood at attention. He was so calm and composed that Claire was willing to believe that his airborne misadventure was but a figment of her imagination. Likewise, the Kryddarian unraveled her silken bed and woke up without the need for a prompt. She was clearly on the groggier side given her shaky steps, but she returned to her post at the group¡¯s front nonetheless. The plant was the only one that didn¡¯t change. She was still full of energy, her face betraying not a hint of exhaustion even after the hour-long underwater trek¡ªnot that it mattered. Her vigour would only go to waste unless she defied the bloodthief¡¯s orders.


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget.¡± Claire spoke in a low growl as she stepped forward and stuck a hand through the portal. ¡°Stay out of my fights. No matter what.¡±


    ¡°We will,¡± said Lova, with a timid nod.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯re just here to collect materials,¡± said Myrtle.


    Grell didn¡¯t say anything, opting instead to buzz in affirmation.


    ¡°Good.¡±


    Sylvia tugged on one of the larger halfbreed¡¯s ears. ¡°Oh, come on, Claire. That¡¯s like the third time you¡¯ve said it. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ve gotten the point already,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate stupidity,¡± she said, as she stepped through the gate.


    ¡°You can¡¯t just assume everyone¡¯s an idiot!¡±


    ¡°I can. And I will.¡±


    After looking around and confirming that the trio was still on the other side of the portal, she stuck her tongue out at Sylvia and tugged on the fox¡¯s cheeks before slithering down the corridor. Her lamian form lacked the top speed that came with having legs, but she made up for it with raw acceleration. Tiny, body-length dashes made up the majority of her movement. Momentum was no longer a caution or concern; turning the corner was as easy as slingshotting her body around the other side.


    Without stopping to form a weapon or cast a spell, she rushed straight at the first crab she saw. The crustacean was quick to react, swinging its hook in time with her charge. The weapon was on track to gouge her head and tear through her skull, but she was one step ahead. Growing out her legs at the last moment, she kicked off the ground, further boosting her already impressive speed and throwing off the monster¡¯s arm. She crossed her arms in front of her face to brace for impact, rammed straight into the corsair¡¯s torso, and smashed her way through its shell. It was a classic, centaurian execution, often described by bards aplenty.


    Claire didn¡¯t take any damage from the collision. The thick leather that made her cloak dampened the blow and absorbed all the shrapnel that would have otherwise bored into her arms. Her target, on the other hand, was not so lucky. Because it, like her, had joined a select group of individuals, individuals that knew what it was like to be speared by a shard of true ice, the tip of which was firing a bolt of frost every half second. The mage knew better than to assume a Llystletein monster dead from just a bit of minor mutilation, so she grabbed the sides of its body and tore it in two.


    None of the other members of its group were able to provide any assistance. They were preoccupied with Shouldersnake, who was digging holes through their bodies with its spring-loaded lunges. Something would break each time it curled its tail and shot forward, be it an arm, a leg, or a thorax.


    The encounter was the exact opposite of a challenge. Claire had boiled killing crabs down to a science by the time she had left to seek the frog, and she had only grown stronger since. Surely enough, her lackluster gains reflected their harmlessness. Four kills amounted to roughly 2% of a level, split between her three classes.


    ¡°They¡¯re dead already?¡± The alraune rounded the corner to find a fully lamian Claire covered from head to toe in stray strands of cotton. ¡°Isn¡¯t this supposed to be one of the rooms with four?¡±


    The lyrkress shrugged. ¡°They¡¯re just corsairs.¡±


    Myrtle put a hand behind her head and laughed awkwardly. ¡°We still struggle with them. It¡¯s not like we can¡¯t deal with them, but we need to take on one at a time if we want to salvage any of the materials.¡±


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Claire pointed at the mangled corpses. ¡°Can you salvage any of these?¡±


    Their shells were destroyed. The first one had been literally torn open, while the rest had snake-sized holes all over. But apparently, the alraune didn''t mind. Inspecting the corpses led her to nod with all the enthusiasm of a child in a candy store. ¡°They look good enough to use.¡± She grabbed several fistfulls of cotton, compressed them with her hands, and shoved them into her bag.


    ¡°You don¡¯t care about the shell?¡± Claire tore one of the legs apart and strapped its tip to her waist, where the two halves of her body met. ¡°You could make something out of these.¡±


    ¡°Corsairs do not yield long-lasting materials,¡± said Grell. For a scyph, it was a strong statement, completely lacking in the usual wishy-washy uncertainty.


    ¡°I¡¯m just picking this up to make some snacks for Lova later,¡± explained Myrtle. ¡°She loves my cooking.¡±


    The Kryddarian nodded as everyone turned towards her. Her head moved with such vigour that Claire was left wondering how her glasses managed to stay on her face.


    ¡°Did someone say snacks?¡± said Sylvia, from on top of the lyrkress¡¯ head.


    When did she get there? Wasn¡¯t she just standing beside the plant?


    ¡°Murtt is a wonderful baker. Her cookies are delicious enough to die for,¡± said Lova. She was avoiding Claire¡¯s gaze, but at the very least, she had stopped trembling.


    ¡°I¡¯d love to try some!¡± said Sylvia. Her tail flicked from left to right as she licked her lips.


    ¡°No drooling.¡± Claire grabbed the fox by the face and forcefully placed her on the ground. ¡°Not on my head.¡±


    ¡°I always make extra, so you¡¯re welcome to try some, when we get back,¡± said Myrtle.


    ¡°Thanks Murtt!¡± chirped Sylvia.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t,¡± said Claire.


    Myrtle put her hands on her hips and frowned. ¡°And why not? I¡¯ll have you know that my baking is top notch.¡±


    ¡°Because she,¡± the lamia pointed at the fox, ¡°is an idiot.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not an idiot! They¡¯re cookies, Claire! Cookies!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°You¡¯ve never had cookies. You didn¡¯t know what they were until I explained them to you this morning,¡± said the lyrkress.


    The fox huffed. ¡°That¡¯s exactly why I want to try them! You told me they were tasty, and you hate eating everything! I can¡¯t even imagine how good they are.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear her?¡± Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°Her cookies are made of cotton.¡±


    ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°Palm leaves.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± The four-legged fairy blinked for a few seconds before turning pale. ¡°R-right. I think I¡¯m going to keep my mouth to myself.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± said Claire. Externally, she kept her poker face on, but internally, she was smirking in a manner that would have left a certain goddess swelling with pride.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think we follow,¡± said Lova, in a half-whisper.


    ¡°I-it¡¯s okay, you don¡¯t need to,¡± said Sylvia.


    The bloodthief bit her tongue to suppress a giggle. ¡°She tried eating palm leaves and got sick. Because she¡¯s an idiot.¡±


    ¡°Hey! I¡¯m not the one that thought brown coconuts were rotten! Eating leaves is way more reasonable!¡±


    Claire¡¯s hands shot forward, but they never reached the fox¡¯s cheeks. Sylvia¡¯s body almost seemed to fade, like an illusion or hallucination, before reappearing on top of her head.


    ¡°You¡¯re not gonna catch me that easily!¡± The fox snickered as she leapt off the blueblood¡¯s crown and darted down the hall.


    ¡°Try to keep up. If you get lost, you can follow the marks I leave in the sand.¡± Giving the group only half an explanation, the hissing halfbreed took off and gave chase, her magic propelling her through the sky.


    ___


    The rest of the day went about as expected. Claire plowed through all the corsairs in her path, often more literally than not. Her ramming attacks were heavy enough to break through their shells and her spells ripped them to bits. Though they were able to put up more of a fight, the buccaneers were also quick to fall. A chain of fiery punches was all she needed to dispatch each blade-armed crustacean.


    Though Sylvia had led her down the shortest route, the occasional break drastically inflated their travel time. Needing to wait for the three leeches to catch up turned the three-hour journey into one that required two thirds of the day. The lyrkress didn¡¯t understand the lack of speed until she decided to leave the brilliant trio a corsair. Finding herself a rather unique hiding spot within one of the walls, she bunkered down to watch the group engage. And in doing so, immediately deduced that there was no need to keep up her guard. Their frontliner, Lova, was about as mobile as a rock. She was unable to move at anything beyond a snail¡¯s pace and she struggled to wield the massive hunk of steel that was meant to be her weapon. She needed to put her full weight behind every swing of the shieldlance, even when she was just using it for defence. Aren''t those supposed to be meant for centaurs?


    Frankly, the oversized cavalry weapon didn¡¯t fit its Kryddarian user. As its name described, the armament was one that drew from a pair of existing concepts. It was effectively a thick, meter-long slab of metal that could be used both for offense and defense. Unlike a traditional lance, it was strapped to the wielder¡¯s arm, and unlike a traditional shield, its front end was sharpened and extended far beyond the wielder¡¯s hand. They were standard issue in the Cadrian army; her father happened to have a few hundred lying around his armory. But the centaurs were one of the only races to put them to use, largely in part because they were rarely ever lacking in the way of raw power. And though every soldier had at least one, many regarded shieldlances as side arms. Spears were more common, as the defensive blades were often too short to reach smaller targets. Gnomes, for example, could quite literally walk right under them without the threat of injury; they were far more effective against other centaurs than they were their common enemies.


    Unlike the average Cadrian warrior, the Kryddarian did not appear to have any significant investment in strength, a mystery solved by a quick moment of thought. Spellweavers were mages; there was no reason for one to invest her points in something that would have no effect on her hexes. As could be inferred from her racial class, the moth was lacking in more than just brute force. Her attacks were slow and clumsy, a surefire sign that both her agility and dexterity were also pitifully low. As things stood, the lyrkress was starting to suspect that she was only the party¡¯s frontline because she was best at taking hits. If nothing else, her two ascensions guaranteed that she had more health than the scyph sitting behind her.


    The flying sea creature in question was slowly twisting his tentacles together to form a shape akin to a drill. A few seconds of clumsy preparation later, he lit himself on fire and launched a projectile in his image. Given the crabs¡¯ cotton interiors, she was confident that the attack would kill so long as it landed, but it never did. They were too fleet of foot; he could never quite catch them. At least not on his own.


    The alraune was trying her best to support both other members, but she was doing a terrible job of it. Her lightning spells often went wide, courtesy of a habit that Claire could only assume came from time spent as a melee fighter. She held her wand in a reverse grip and kept it moving, as if to make it too hard for her opponent to read her next move. More importantly, the power of each individual strike was nothing if not lackluster. They were barely able to make the crab flinch, even when in the case of a direct hit; her wisdom stat was likely not even a tenth of Claire¡¯s own.


    Whatever the case, they were all incompetent. Grell and Myrtle were both stuck in their old ways, and Lova was simply dysfunctional.


    They eventually managed to slay the crab, but their performance was so poor that Claire struggled to keep herself from looking away.

 Chapter 109 - Eel Season III

    Chapter 109 - Eel Season III


    Lova breathed a sigh of relief as a fiery bolt landed square on the corsair¡¯s chest. The slow but powerful projectile drilled its way into the monster¡¯s interior and transformed it into a living pyre. Without waiting for the crab to die, she unstrapped her weapon with one pair of hands and took off her helmet with the other. Both heavy pieces made dull thuds as they landed in the sand, a weight that evidenced their solid iron construction. They were going to be gritty when she put them back on, but she very much preferred the mild discomfort to the suffocating heat.


    Shaking her head, she shed the beads of sweat clinging to her fur and closed her eyes. For a moment, she considered removing the rest of her armour, but discarded the thought as quickly as it surfaced. There was no point. She would have to take off her bodysuit to dry off the rest of her sweat, but they needed to get back on the road, so that they could catch up to the snake girl.


    ¡°Great job, Lova!¡± Myrtle walked over to her four-armed friend and lowered herself into the sand. Her roots were ingrained in the grainy earth, a surefire sign that she was also looking to rest. ¡°Where do you think Claire went?¡±


    The moth took a moment to scan their surroundings before shaking her head. ¡°I¡¯m terribly sorry, Murtt, but I haven¡¯t the slightest idea.¡± The spellweaver twiddled the thumbs on her second set of hands. ¡°There are too many different markings in the sand. I¡¯m not even sure we went the right way.¡±


    ¡°I wish I still had my tracking skill,¡± said Myrtle, in a whisper. ¡°That would have made this much easier.¡±


    Lova reached over and gave the plant a quick hug. Her armour made the whole experience awkward and uncomfortable for both parties, but the alraune relaxed nonetheless.


    Neither of the two had managed to get over the loss of their abilities, but they were a lot better off than most of the others that resided within the citadel¡¯s confines. Three quarters of the population was completely deprived of motivation The spellweaver had also shared in the struggle. It had taken a budding romance to convince her to rekindle her will to grow, and a new friend to get her over the embarrassment that came with her lack of function.


    ¡°Might you have any idea where she might have gone, Grell?¡± Lova turned to the jellyfish, who was floating around nearby.


    ¡°It is very strange. There are no traces of a battle. It is possible that she didn¡¯t make it here because she encountered something she was unable to handle.¡±


    The trio was at an impasse. Though the sand certainly bore the occasional tail-shaped mark, they weren¡¯t frequent or consistent enough for the group to keep track of her. Fortunately, they knew Crabby Crags well enough to have several maps of their own making, and following in her non-existent footsteps was as easy as taking the most direct path to the instance¡¯s boss.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± Myrtle created a small platform with her vines and set her chin on top of it. ¡°There wasn¡¯t any blood anywhere.¡±


    ¡°It is possible that she was buried under a pile of rocks.¡±


    Lova frowned. ¡°She couldn¡¯t have died. You saw all the corpses. Even the buccaneers were mangled.¡±


    ¡°Still, I think it is a possibility. These monsters may not be very intelligent, but their attacks are lethal,¡± insisted the jellyfish. ¡°A stray hit could very well have spelled her end.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not dead.¡±


    A voice came from nearby. All three party members looked around, but none were able to pinpoint its source, not until the wall started to peel like a tarp. Out from within a large hole slithered the lamia, who apparently thought nothing of her inexplicable advent.


    ¡°Surprise!¡± said the fox perched on her head. ¡°See, Claire? I told you they wouldn¡¯t notice.¡±


    ¡°Fine. You win, this time.¡±


    Standing up, the vixen put two hands on her hips and puffed out her chest. ¡°And I¡¯ll win next time too.¡±


    ¡°I doubt that.¡±


    The trio took a moment to exchange glances. Lova knew that they were all thinking about the confusing entrance, but none of them went as far as actually voicing their uncertainties.


    ¡°It appears that my theories were incorrect,¡± said the scyph.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Grelly. It happens to me all the time,¡± said Myrtle.


    Lova took a deep breath. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry, we didn¡¯t mean any offense. It¡¯s just that it wouldn¡¯t be the first time it¡¯s happened¡­¡±


    ¡°None taken.¡±


    Gulping, Lova raised her eyes and looked at the snake in an attempt to gauge the statement¡¯s truthfulness, but she was unable to make anything of the serpent¡¯s blank face.


    ¡°Follow me,¡± said Claire. ¡°Going through the walls is faster than going around them.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t digging through them take a lot of time?¡± Myrtle tapped a root against the stone. ¡°They seem a bit tough.¡±


    ¡°If it did, then I wouldn¡¯t have suggested it.¡±


    The lamia slithered towards a perfectly intact piece of the wall, with a massive gaping hole opening in the stone cliff following her approach. Though the angle made it difficult to spell out any definitive conclusions, Lova was almost certain that she didn¡¯t touch it. It didn¡¯t even look like she had cast a spell, despite the fact that more and more of the rock vanished each time she moved.


    Myrtle blinked a few times before finally starting to follow. ¡°I don¡¯t know how she¡¯s doing that, but it¡¯s really neat.¡±


    ¡°It certainly does appear to bear a number of potential peculiarities,¡± buzzed the floating jellyfish.


    Though her two closest friends were engaged in conversation, Lova herself remained silent. Her eyes were fixed on the freshly dug tunnel. Its walls were so perfectly smooth that they left her feeling somewhat concerned. Frankly, it was unnatural. The lamia¡¯s ability cared unnaturally little for the different types of stone. All were treated equally, destroyed with no hope of resistance. She couldn¡¯t help but imagine what it would be like to be on the magic¡¯s receiving end. And as her mind wandered, she began to wonder why Claire refused to use it in battle. The only reason she could come up with was that the not-lamia was driven by some sort of sadistic impulse, a terrifying urge to revel in violence and inflict pain and suffering upon others.


    Shuddering, the Kryddarian gathered her things and chased after the group so she wouldn¡¯t be left behind. When she finally looked up, she found that Claire was looking over her shoulder, staring at her. At first, she thought it was because she had become something of a straggler, but the half-snake¡¯s lips twisted into a carnivorous grin as soon as the others looked away. And when the moth girl froze up, she giggled, as if to proclaim her superiority.


    Lova hugged herself with her upper arms and took half a step back. It was happening again. She was being tormented. For fun.


    A shiver shot down her spine. The other day¡¯s events were still fresh in her mind. The others all thought that she had simply been hallucinating, but she knew for a fact that Claire had sported a pair of legs, when they first met. And that she had been hitting her.


    There was no doubt that they were the same person, especially now that the lamia had shown evidence of her sadistic streak. But the more Lova thought about it, the more she began to realise that something was off. Namely, the state of her skull. It had remained perfectly intact throughout the process. She had never been hit hard enough to bruise, let alone bleed.


    If the bizarre creature had truly wished to torment her, then it would have hit her harder. It wasn¡¯t as if she was lacking upper body strength. She had already demonstrated the ability to literally rip a crab¡¯s shell in two, and Lova¡¯s bones were only slightly more durable. If she were truly a sadist, like him, then she would have broken open her head every time she threatened to wake, even if she was tied up and harmless.


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    The bug girl furrowed her brow. And after taking a slow, steady breath, looked up at Claire, who once again immediately returned her gaze and smirked. An annoyed frown surfaced on Lova¡¯s face. But it vanished as Claire¡¯s eyes turned cold. They stayed that way for what felt like an eternity, until the snake-girl eventually donned another small but smug grin.


    It was gone by the time she blinked, but Lova was sure she saw it. It had seemed too natural to be a figment of her imagination, but there was no way for her to confirm. Neither Grell or Myrtle had been paying any attention; they were too busy discussing the ins and outs of accidental forest fires to care for their surroundings.


    Her lips twitched, pursing as she contemplated the very real possibility that she had simply fallen for a long series of coincidences and relatively harmless pranks. She almost couldn¡¯t believe it. But all the evidence was right there in front of her. Her fear was nothing but a misunderstanding, and an obvious one at that. As she calmed and analyzed the situation rationally, she concluded that she was wrong to assume that the girl was even remotely related to the duke of death. The odds of such a coincidence were so astronomically low that they may as well have amounted to zero.


    ¡°Dear Builledracht, I can¡¯t believe it. I¡¯m so embarrassed.¡± Whispering the words under her breath, she pressed her face into all four of her palms and slowly shook her head from side to side.


    ¡°I told you she wasn¡¯t that bad.¡± A voice came from what almost seemed to be inside her head.


    ¡°W-what? What was that?¡±


    She spun around wildly in order to find its source, but to no avail. All she managed to do was attract the others¡¯ attention.


    ¡°Lova?¡± Myrtle turned around and blinked at her. ¡°Is something wrong?¡±


    ¡°I think I heard something,¡± she said, with a nervous gulp.


    ¡°Shhh! You¡¯re supposed to be quiet about these things!¡± said the oddly familiar voice.


    ¡°I can¡¯t just tell them it¡¯s nothing. I clearly hear you,¡± protested the moth.


    Myrtle¡¯s eyes opened wide as she brought a hand to her mouth and gasped. ¡°Oh no! Lova¡¯s talking to ghosts again!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just Sylvia,¡± said Claire. ¡°She¡¯s being a nuisance. As usual.¡±


    ¡°Huh? How¡¯d you kno¡ª¡± The fox collapsed both hands in front of her mouth. ¡°Er, I mean it wasn¡¯t me!¡±


    ¡°I could hear you speaking.¡±


    ¡°Huh? You could?¡± Sylvia blinked. ¡°What the heck! Not even I could hear me, and I thought my ears were supposed to be better!¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not.¡±


    ¡°But I can hear things from further away than you.¡±


    ¡°And I can hear quieter things if they¡¯re close.¡±


    Rubbing her cheekbones, Lova raised her head, looked forward, and advanced. Without a smidgeon of fear. At least not until she saw Claire murder a crab without any change in her expression. The snake girl may not have been Kryddar¡¯s worst nightmare, but there was no doubt that she wasn¡¯t without a few loose screws.


    ___


    The group set up camp not too long before nightfall. The sky was starting to turn a shade of orange, and the sun was no longer visible beneath the labyrinth¡¯s walls. All the group¡¯s members were present and accounted for, sitting around a fire lit by the floating jellyfish. Wads of cotton fed the flames. They had a near infinite supply; there was a mountain of dead crabs piled up around the temporary base. One would assume that a pile of rotting shellfish was sure to reek, but Claire couldn¡¯t pick up on any notable scents, even when she flicked her tongue.


    ¡°I¡¯m hungry,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°It¡¯s barely evening.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but we didn¡¯t stop for lunch!¡±


    ¡°Perhaps we are due for a meal then,¡± said Grell. A glob of magic formed in front of one of his tentacles and gradually assumed an ovular shape. Both Myrtle and Lova immediately began to do the same, but Claire refrained.


    She walked over to the wall and, with a burst of force magic, grabbed one of the creatures tunneling around within it. She couldn¡¯t see it, but her ears allowed her to pinpoint the prey with minimal effort. Pulling on it to prevent its escape, she raised her other hand and got ready to smash her way through the stone, but her hand froze before she had a chance to ball it into a fist. Because the creature, the fish, was wrenched straight out of the stone. It glided through the wall, as would a penguin atop a piece of ice, and landed in the palm of her hand.


    The specimen¡¯s size was impressive for how little noise it made; it was roughly as thick as her arm and twice as long. Its body was shaped almost like that of a snake¡¯s, but it lacked the scales. Its dark frame was coated instead with a layer of slime that made it slippery and hard to catch¡ªnot that it mattered, with her force magic active.


    ¡°Oh, sweet! You caught one of the eels!¡± Sylvia practically hopped over, skipping and jumping as she approached. ¡°Those are really tasty, probably the best fish around.¡±


    ¡°You said that before too.¡± Claire presented the eel to the fox, but she didn¡¯t take it. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just catch one yourself?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to kill them since they¡¯re technically monsters.¡±


    The lyrkress rolled her eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t follow half the rules anyway.¡± She squeezed down on the squirming noodle¡¯s neck and snapped it. ¡°There.¡±


    Log Entry 2921


    You have slain a level 25 Llystletein Longfish.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 1 point of wisdom


    Log Entry 2922


    You have unlocked a new spawnable food item.


    ¡°Thanks!¡± Sylvia shoved the eel into her mouth and, despite its size, swallowed it in a single breath. ¡°Yup, super tasty! Just how I remember it.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like it.¡± Claire grabbed a second longfish and threw it straight into the fire.


    Looking around, she noticed a number of curious gazes. All three unwelcome guests had their eyes on her, with one particular individual looking much hungrier than both the others. Is that sap or drool?


    Log Entry 2923


    You have slain a level 22 Llystletein Longfish.


    ¡°I¡¯ll share.¡±


    ¡°T-thanks,¡± said Myrtle. Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of green as she lowered her gaze and retreated halfway into her flower.


    Having learned from her previous mistake, Claire magically pulled the ray-finned fish out of the flame right as its outside began to crisp up. She broke it into several pieces and handed one to each of the curious onlookers while summoning a basket of bread for herself¡ªa contingency, in case things went the way she was expecting.


    Log Entry 2924


    Llystletein Authority has reached level 8.


    And surely enough, they did.


    All three taste testers twisted their faces in misery, a surefire sign that she did not, in fact, magically gain the ability to cook just because she had happened to unlock a related skill.


    ¡°Is what your dad said about the eel still true?¡± Having decided to pretend that the eel event had never happened, Claire threw a wad of cotton into the fire and looked to the fox curled up beside her.


    Sylvia raised her head and yawned before returning it to its previous position. ¡°Ummm¡­ it should be. I haven¡¯t really been keeping up with all the news, but I haven¡¯t heard about anyone messing with it.¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t sure?¡±


    ¡°Nope!¡±


    The rogue crossed her arms. ¡°Useless.¡±


    ¡°Hey! It¡¯s not even my fault! There aren¡¯t any terminals around here so I can¡¯t check.¡±


    ¡°Right. Those.¡± The blueblood muttered under her breath before prodding the vixen¡¯s cheek with her tail. ¡°You were supposed to show me to one so I could test my authority skill.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ right. I forgot.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, you forgot?¡± Claire was certain that her eye would have twitched, had her poker face been any less practiced.


    ¡°You¡¯re really not going to like hearing this, but there are two in my mom¡¯s den. You totally could¡¯ve used one while we were there.¡± Sylvia¡¯s tail shot up. ¡°Oh! And before you call me useless again, I¡¯m totally not! Right, guys?¡±


    She looked around the campfire for support, but none of the three collapsed members managed anything but a groan.


    ¡°Darn it, Claire! They¡¯re all out of commission because you basically killed them with your cooking!¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll be fine. It¡¯s just food poisoning.¡±


    ¡°Pardon me, Claire, but what exactly did you feed us?¡± moaned Lova.


    ¡°Longfish, apparently,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I knew I should have stuck to summoning something. Why did I get so greedy? I thought she only threw it in the flame because she knew what she was doing¡­¡± Setting down the rest of her eel, Myrtle coughed a few times before raising her voice and speaking to someone other than herself. ¡°Sylvia isn¡¯t useless. Just look at how cuddly she is.¡±


    The lyrkress scooped the fox up in her arms. ¡°She¡¯s maybe a seven out of ten.¡±


    ¡°What!? I¡¯m way more than a seven!¡± Sylvia tapped her paws against Claire¡¯s arms in protest. ¡°I¡¯m okay with you calling me useless, but I¡¯m definitely a 10 on the fluffy scale! There¡¯s no way I¡¯m not! Look at how poofy my tail is!¡±


    ¡°Are you?¡± Claire suppressed a mischievous smile, just before it showed on her face.


    ¡°Of course I a¡ª¡± Both the vixen¡¯s eyes shot open. ¡°Wait, wait, I didn¡¯t mean that! I¡¯m not okay with being called useless!¡±


    ¡°Then I guess you¡¯re not a ten either.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no winning with you,¡± mumbled the fox. ¡°Whatever. I give up.¡±


    ¡°Took you long enough.¡± Claire scratched the fox¡¯s ears. ¡°It was a joke, Sylvia. You¡¯re the fluffiest fox I¡¯ve ever met.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s too late now,¡± she huffed. ¡°I¡¯m not letting you touch me anymore, since you clearly don¡¯t appreciate my fluffiness.¡± She pushed the other halfbreed¡¯s arms away and dropped to the floor.


    The vixen slipped away before she could be grabbed and appeared on the other side of the campfire. Claire tried to chase her down, but Sylvia continued to evade her grasp, every time, until the moon rose high in the sky.

 Chapter 110 - Eel Season IV

    Chapter 110 - Eel Season IV


    Claire rose from within a tent of leaves as the moon began to fall. Looking around the waning campfire and confirming that all the others were fast asleep, she took on her usual form, stepped out from the enclosure, and wandered down the hall. The fox was the only one to catch her departure; Sylvia groggily raised her head and waved goodbye with her tail, only to go right back to bed shortly after. While a less observant halfbreed might have written off the half-hearted dismissal as an act of laziness, the lyrkress recognized it as a sign of confidence; her companion had refrained from stopping her because she knew that she would come out on top.


    The combatant in question, on the other hand, was a little less sure of her victory. She had already lost to overconfidence once, and another frog scenario was the last thing she wanted. That was precisely why she stuck to the stealthy stratagem she had devised while sitting around the flame.


    Her preparations began far ahead of the battle¡¯s onset. She summoned Shoulderhorse as soon as she left camp and loaded the malformed equine with all the mana it could accept. Though supercharged, the pony¡¯s performance remained identical at first glance. It continued to eat Claire-sized holes out of the wall and forge a path to the lord¡¯s chamber, exactly as it had during the day.


    Rather than heading straight in and confronting the lord head-on, the half-moose opted instead to approach from an angle less likely to put her in harm¡¯s way. She went up and then down to create an artificial ledge, an aboveground perch far away from the entrance the lord was likely to be watching.


    The mage had her four-legged drill stop just shy of breaking through the final layer of stone to bore a tiny, finger-sized peephole with a pick of ice. The narrow opening was just big enough for her to peek through the out of place forest and observe the monster whilst minimizing the risk of exposure.


    It was, in a word, pink. Its charcoal black body would have been nearly invisible in the darkness if not for the neon glow radiating out from its insides. Unlike most other eels, the monarch possessed eight pairs of legs, all of which she assumed to be vestigial. Though the limbs were tipped with large barbed feet, the slithering sea creature clearly didn¡¯t think of them as tools to direct its movement. They hung by its side, flopping around lifelessly as it moved its head around in the sand.


    The monster¡¯s face was decorated by a star-shaped granite mask, and its body was lined with large, pointy spines as long as Claire was tall. Its back sported a boney sail, with even larger barbs emerging from its spine and a stiff-looking membrane holding them all together. There were a trio of horns on its head, all pointing in completely different directions. Their tips were dull, but that seemed more like a feature than an unfortunate coincidence. The magical energy that pulsed through the head spikes made it clear that they served as catalysts first and blunt weapons second. It was certainly a unique trait worth noticing, but even the three horns paled in comparison to the creature¡¯s bizarre tail.


    Simply put, it was a half-flattened morning star, a large metallic lump, covered in thorns and melded to the monster¡¯s rear through a series of chains. Unlike a traditional spiked ball, whose protrusions often had random bits of space between them, the porcupine tail was not haphazard. The much smaller blades that ran along the top and bottom were positioned in perfect sequence with no gaps, almost like the teeth on a saw.


    Though the chains measured in the tens of meters, each individual link was tiny, small enough for her to think that they belonged to centaur-sized weapons. A frown formed on her face as she continued to stare at the monster. Its weaknesses were difficult to discern. She couldn¡¯t tell if she was going to be better off going for its head or its tail. The front of its body was more heavily armoured, but its destruction was sure to lead to a swift victory. Striking the exposed rear seemed like another viable option. Harming its tail would likely cause more lasting damage, but the approach lacked the immediate fatality that came with its counterpart. She couldn¡¯t decide, based on the merits. So she chose the one that was closer.


    A beam shot from her chest as she burst through the wall and made a beeline for the monster¡¯s rear. The freezing ray glimmered beneath the stars, adding another colour, another dimension, to the neon lightshow crafted by the longfish¡¯s aura.


    The eel roared as the spell landed on the base of its tail and encased it in a layer of ice. A second attack came immediately in the form of a flying hunk of iron, followed by a third, a magical explosion fueled by Shoulderhorse¡¯s pain and anguish. She had no idea how much damage the spell had managed to deal, but with a blast of sand as her shield, Claire turned her mace into an axe and charged at its back end.


    On paper, it was a solid plan. Severing the monster¡¯s tail would have been a huge boon. But the entire ploy hinged on the sand obscuring the eel¡¯s line of sight¡ªan assumption that immediately proved itself false.


    The longfish¡¯s morningstar blew through the smokescreen and flew straight into her side. Her runecloak mitigated most of the damage; the combination of the thick leather and the metallic plates stopped most of the finger-sized teeth from sinking into her flesh. She was subjected to only a few puncture wounds, all of which were shallow, save for the one that happened to sneak between her ribs.


    Scowling, Claire dug her hooves into the ground and absorbed the force of the blow. Despite the weapon¡¯s speed and size, the strike was lacking in raw power. She was able to push it back, but her advance was put to an immediate end.


    Continuing the charge was too risky, not when the monster had already proven, with its pinpoint attacks, that it could see beyond the sandy smokescreen. Its tail swipes continued to fly at her even as she backed off, but knowing that they were coming rendered them harmless. They were light enough to parry. She had no trouble warding them off with her axe.


    After leaping back five times and finally escaping its effective range, Claire breathed out through her teeth and moved her eyes to the monster¡¯s injury.


    Her initial attack had clearly done its job. The right half of its tail was still frozen solid, while the left was missing outright. She couldn¡¯t say for certain, but she suspected that the damage had something to do with the monster¡¯s inability to bludgeon her with the prehensile appendage.


    The lull that came with her analysis allowed the eel to take control of the battle¡¯s momentum. It lowered its head for a brief moment and fired a trio of magical projectiles, one from each horned catalyst. The rounded bolts curved through the air and converged on her location. She barely managed to dart out of the way. Like Shoulderhorse, they exploded as they reached their destinations, albeit on a much smaller scale.


    A shiver ran down Claire¡¯s spine. The air was crackling. She could feel the raw energy on her skin, even though it had come nowhere close to touching her, proof that it was a spell based in brute force.


    Arcane magic was widely feared. Known as equal parts simple and complex, the ancient school focused first and foremost on raw power. Even a weak arcane bolt could overpower a spell with far greater complexity. The mages that practiced the almost feral art possessed far more mana than most, and they were known for being particularly adept at firing off wave after wave of spells whilst ignoring the fragile concepts from which other schools drew. The eel was quick to demonstrate that exact approach.


    Another trio bolts was fired at her without a moment¡¯s delay. The second barrage was more accurate; the spells curved through the air and flew straight towards her chest. She darted out of the way in an attempt to dodge them preemptively, but they moved with her, changing their trajectory to match her position. A less-than-smug hiss left her throat as she raised her free hand and crafted a large frozen pillar. The icy structure blocked two of the three projectiles, while the third was repelled by a serpentine phantom, summoned at the last moment and infused with a thousand points of magic.


    Bearing the brunt of the explosion had little effect on the spirit. It was perfectly unharmed, even as its body was swallowed by the magical blast.


    The air-breathing fish continued to throw spells at her from afar, not moving from its spot. But it was all pointless. The frosty partitions Claire used to block its attack cost only a sliver of mana; she wasn¡¯t on her back foot and had no concerns about the sustainability of her defense. The monster was quick to catch on. It roared in annoyance, called off its attack, and glared at her. It was miffed, enraged even. But it refused to budge from where it sat. When she circled around, it turned not just its head, but its whole body, as if to hide something behind its back.


    Claire strained her ears, but there was nothing. The eel¡¯s heartbeat was the only one she heard; it didn¡¯t seem to be defending a child or mate despite its behaviour. Frowning, she dodged another group of projectiles and listened again, but heard nothing but the crackling of a magical discharge.


    The eel¡¯s spells were effectively out of range. Its projectiles were too slow to cover the distance between them; she would always have more than enough time to react. But the opposite wasn¡¯t true. Her spells could reach.


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    Had she been against a less stationary opponent, she would have focused on quantity over quality. Chipping away at a monster¡¯s life force with a barrage large enough to guarantee a hit was much more reliable than trying and failing to land a deathblow. But the eel wasn¡¯t moving. If it was just going to hold position, then all she had to do was slam it with a single big spell.


    Channeling her magic through her free arm, she crafted a massive spear ten times as long as the standard issue projectile and twenty times as wide. As it was technically the product of her ice manipulation and not an icebolt, it wasn¡¯t capable of propelling itself forward. Likewise, her force manipulation couldn¡¯t push it fast enough for it to be effective. It was far too heavy for her to give it any real speed.


    It would have been a conundrum. Had she not possessed the ability to losslessly transfer momentum. She twisted her hips, slammed her hand into its flattened rear, and propelled it forwards. A second boost came as its speed began to drop, a charged vector that added to the projectile¡¯s swiftness, boosting it to match the velocity her fist had demonstrated a moment prior.


    The eel had no choice but to abandon whatever was behind it. With an almost amused-sounding roar, it raised its head into the sky, its body soon following suit. The creature¡¯s departure revealed the object that it had kept from Claire¡¯s eyes, a large rocky monolith covered from head to toe in runes. A hexstone.


    A barrier formed around the runic rock right before the halfbreed¡¯s spell made contact. The defensive shield almost seemed to catch the icy spear head on. Before returning it. At ten times the speed.


    She couldn¡¯t react.


    The still-extended arm that had fired the projectile was destroyed. Instantly. Everything from her shoulder down exploded into a mess of blood and bone.


    A pained groan left her lips as she stumbled back, dropped her axe, and clutched the empty socket.


    She almost couldn¡¯t believe it.


    The eel had tricked her.


    It had put on a ruse to bait her into firing a powerful spell. And she had fallen for it. She walked right into its trap, like a mouse lured in by a piece of moldy cheese.


    The eel didn¡¯t hesitate to make use of its aerial supremacy. Shrieking in delight, it began firing projectiles at her. Not spells, but parts of its own body.


    Spines and legs were shed and launched, only to be replaced in a heartbeat. They rained down like a hail of blades, with each threatening to end her in an instant. But Claire was not concerned. Fighting against the crabs had armed her with the knowledge to deal with the exact scenario presented.


    Calmly raising her remaining arm, she parried the projectiles as they came, throwing them off course with a series of light blows meant only to alter their momentum. It was a tenable solution. Her right half was well-guarded. She managed to deflect everything that drew near it. But the other side of her body did not fare as well; the technique was imperfect without a second arm. A blade drilled itself into her shoulder and another even managed to take out her knee by the time the barrage finally slowed to a stop.


    Her cloak was in shambles. It would soon recover. But the same could not be said for her body. There were cuts and scratches running along her wounded half; blood poured from her sleeves, a constant stream that left her head spinning. And that wasn¡¯t even the worst part. Looking around, and seeing all the freshly sprouted trees, Claire was starting to get the feeling that the eel wasn¡¯t quite done with whatever it had in mind.


    All of the saplings that had sprouted from the monster¡¯s attacks were humming eerily. Slowly, they started to shift, to move in her direction, limbs extended like members of the undead. Magnetting her axe back into her hand, she slashed at the closest target. But she failed to cleave it in two. It was a lot tougher than expected. Because it wasn¡¯t made of wood.


    Her attack had been accompanied by a metallic cling, a sound that echoed around the artificial forest and carried through the maze.


    She almost couldn¡¯t believe her ears. Or her eyes.


    They looked perfectly wooden, but rang like bells. An impossible set of circumstances that seemed almost impossible to resolve. She was almost thrown off by the conflicting information, but managed to shake her head free of the juxtaposition and disregard it. It didn¡¯t matter. She was confident that she would not be swallowed by the horde.


    Pointing her tail at her rear, Claire lifted herself off the ground and flew after the airborne foe. After throwing Shouldersnake like a projectile, she refroze her axe and readied it for combat. But she never managed to reach her prey. Because there was a wall in the way.


    One that she couldn¡¯t see.


    The labyrinth¡¯s invisible ceiling.


    All her momentum was nulled. Instantly. The urge to punch Alfred bubbled up from within as pain pulsed through her forehead. She couldn¡¯t regain her balance. Her ears were ringing and her eyes were spinning. She had no idea what she was facing, or even where she was, until she crashed into the ground.


    A trio of arcane bolts made contact before she could right herself. The raw energy coursed through her body, frying her from the inside out. But she bore with it. Clenching her teeth hard enough to draw blood, she leapt out of the way before she was hit by a second wave of spells. The approaching trees were repelled with blasts of ice, freezing them solid before they could reach her.


    As much as it annoyed her, she had to admit that the eel was clever. Twice, it had baited her into hurting herself, and twice, it had capitalised on the subsequent opening to inflict a heavy blow. She was bloody, battered, and down to a third of her health. But she wasn¡¯t ready to give up or retreat.


    Though it could have all been a part of another elaborate ruse, Claire was confident that the eel was lacking in terms of direct combat prowess. Despite being twice her level, it refused to face her head on. Its tail strikes were pitifully weak and its spells weren¡¯t any better. Its most devastating attack, the spine barrage, was more of a biological feature than it was something based on its raw stats. Even with one arm missing, she was sure that she could take it down if she just got close.


    And she had already figured out exactly how she was going to do just that.


    Or more accurately, Shouldersnake had figured it out for her.


    The serpent she had thrown had managed to reach its target. Through an invisible hole in the invisible wall. The one the eel had entered through.


    A small smile appeared on her face as she snapped her fingers and triggered an explosion. The action was entirely unnecessary. But it felt right, like bragging about her victory to a supposed superior that had demonstrated nothing but utmost confidence. Almost exactly like that, in fact.


    Blood sprayed everywhere as the serpent detonated. Half the eel¡¯s midsection was blown to bits. The force-based spell created a million swirling vectors that tore its flesh as would a high speed cheese grater. Layer by layer, it was deconstructed. First went its skin. Then its flesh. And eventually, even some of its bones. She wasn¡¯t able to get through its spine, but if the creature¡¯s pained shrieks were any evidence, she had certainly gotten around to providing it with an excess of undesired stimulation.


    It writhed as it screeched, wildly swinging its tail and head alike. The rampage was accompanied by a series of thuds, And then a loud rumbling. As the invisible ceiling collapsed. The pieces that broke off lost their magical properties and became visible to the naked eye; the falling eel was accompanied by countless pieces of dirt, gravel, and stone.


    The monster rose before the dust settled and opened its mouth wide. A massive lump of magic formed in the back of its throat as it prepared to unleash an earth-rending spell. Even across the hundred meter long room, Claire could feel the raw arcane power radiating from its spell. The lump had at least twice her maximum capacity packed into it, and it continued to grow with every passing moment.


    If it hit her, she would die. And there was no way that a mere wall of ice would serve as an effective means of defense.


    She had to stop it.


    But there was no way to know how much longer she had until it fired.


    Worse yet, there was always the possibility that it could release the attack at will and obliterate her the moment she committed to interrupting its spell.


    Running wasn¡¯t an option either. A sweep of the head was all the monster needed to redirect the beam. It could fry her even if she managed to get behind the wall.


    She was in a tight spot.


    Her heart was pounding. But she didn¡¯t panic.


    Because the eel wasn¡¯t the only one with a trump card.


    Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for the briefest of moments and began to channel the energy lying dormant in her shard. She funneled every last drop into a simple spell, an everyday icebolt that began like any other.


    And transformed it into a shard of true ice.


    The bolt glimmered in the night, its gastly presence accompanied by an unworldly, ethereal glow. It was ready to be propelled, but she didn¡¯t launch it. Holding in her hand, she opted instead to charge across the arena, straight through the eel¡¯s line of fire.


    Shaping it further, and forming it into something of a Claire-sized bowl, she propelled herself through the sky and drove it towards the sea creature¡¯s lips. Seeing the attack, the eel unleashed its own and fired a bright red beam across the circular arena.


    It was searing hot, crackling with an intense energy. She could feel it on the other side of her icy weapon, melting her limbs with its raw magic. By all means, it should have destroyed her spell with its raw power, as arcane magic was known to do. Its crackling pure energy should have overridden her magical formula and deactualised its effects. But the shield remained intact.


    Because true ice was not something that could be easily destroyed.


    The arcane energy that hit the inverted dome was repelled, reflected in random directions as she continued pushing forward. It felt like her whole body was burning, but eventually, she reached her destination and released the barrier only as it was jammed between the monster¡¯s lips, reflecting its own spell back into the depths of its throat.


    And only then did she finally release the projectile.


    After a brief delay, the icy lump erupted. It burst into a thousand-petalled blossom, a thorny crystal with a countless number of thorns.


    It violently expanded within the eel¡¯s head. And plastered its melted brains all over the labyrinth¡¯s walls.

 Chapter 111 - Eel Season V

    Chapter 111 - Eel Season V


    ¡°That didn¡¯t go as poorly as it could have.¡±


    Mumbling under her breath, Claire flexed her freshly regrown fingers and stumbled towards the stone situated near the arena¡¯s far end. The recoil that came with using her divinity had already kicked in; there was a dull throbbing in the back of her skull. It wasn¡¯t nearly as debilitating as it had been the last time, but it remained a nuisance nonetheless.


    ¡°It would have been even easier if you used us properly.¡± The phantom snake that appeared on her shoulder spoke with an annoyed grumble.


    Log Entry 2925


    You have slain a unique level 152 Llystletein Sawfish, titled ¡®The Lord of the Labyrinth.¡¯


    This feat has earned you the following bonuses:


    - 7 points of agility


    - 13 points of dexterity


    - 42 points of spirit


    - 1 point of strength


    - 18 (9x2) points of vitality


    - 8 points of wisdom


    On her other shoulder, the pony appeared, nodding with all the vigour that its disproportionately sized head would allow. ¡°Yes! That, precisely!¡±


    ¡°I am using you properly.¡± It was difficult to focus on the conversation with the goddess rattling off in the back of her mind, but she managed to squeeze out a response.


    Log Entry 2926


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Frostblight Lyrkress, has reached level 87.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Bloodthief, has reached level 85.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Vector Mage, has reached level 83.


    You have gained 84 ability points.


    ¡°You are most certainly not, young lady,¡± huffed the pony. ¡°I know that I¡¯m beautiful enough to grab any man¡¯s attention, but if you were going to throw me at him, then you shouldn¡¯t have detonated me immediately. At least let me do something.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re invisible,¡± muttered Claire. ¡°And you¡¯d hardly be able to charm a rock, even if you weren¡¯t.¡±


    Log Entry 2927


    One of your spawnable food items has been upgraded.


    ¡°Oh, Claire. My beauty is the only reason Father was ever lenient with us.¡±


    ¡°Lenient?¡± The only one of the three with a real body rolled her eyes. ¡°He was never lenient.¡±


    ¡°Well, him aside, the matter of fact is that we aren¡¯t being used to our full potential.¡± Shouldersnake slithered forward and turned to face her with half its body suspended in the air. ¡°If you¡¯re not going to cast any spells with the mana you feed us, then at least give us the agency to do it ourselves.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right! Don¡¯t micromanage us unless you¡¯re going to do it right!¡± complained Shoulderhorse.


    Claire blinked. ¡°You can cast spells?¡±


    Log Entry 2928


    Assassinate has reached level 18.


    Log Entry 2929


    Catgirl Detector has reached level 11.


    ¡°Of course we can!¡± The danger noodle bonked its forehead against hers, several times, but the two never made contact. ¡°Why else would you infuse us with mana?¡±


    ¡°So I can blow you up?¡±


    Shouldersnake heaved an audible sigh. ¡°That¡¯s supposed to be a last resort.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right! How could you possibly consider detonating me? You¡¯ll scorch my beautiful mane!¡±


    Log Entry 2930


    Phantom Blade has reached level 19.


    Log Entry 2931


    Spirit Sorcery has reached level 29.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± Again, the lyrkress rolled her eyes. ¡°What spells can you cast?¡±


    ¡°All of yours,¡± said the snake. ¡°And the skill doesn¡¯t say it, but we can use your divinity too.¡±


    Claire pursed her lips. ¡°Fine.¡± She had to admit, it seemed like a decent idea. One was the perfect mobile nuisance while the other could be set up as a trap. ¡°Next time.¡±


    ¡°That better be a promise!¡± said the pony.


    The pair began to fade as soon as the bluescale nodded, satisfied smiles on both their faces. Shouldersnake¡¯s was relatively inoffensive, but the horse¡¯s was obnoxious. Just seeing the smug grin was enough to plague her fist with a perpetual itch.


    Log Entry 2932


    Throwing has reached level 11.


    Log Entry 2933


    True Ice Manipulation has reached level 15.


    Log Entry 2934


    Vector Manipulation has reached level 32.


    Claire looked towards the hexstone as the goddess¡¯ voice finally trailed off. Sylvia had warned against falling into Alfred¡¯s trap, but the fourth was still supposed to be safe. Taking a small breath, she laid her hand against the rock and waited for the librarian to work his magic. She was soon taken from her body and pulled into his realm, just like the other three times. The old human was clearly waiting for her; he was leaning far back in his chair with his pipe in his mouth and a wide grin sitting upon his face.


    ¡°Hello, Claire. I would¡¯ve loved to say that congratulations are in order, but you got the wrong lord.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m killing all of them,¡± she said. ¡°They¡¯re free experience.¡±


    Alfred smiled as he took the wooden briar out of his mouth and spun it in his veiny, wrinkled hands. ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t go as far as saying that they¡¯re free, but they certainly are worth quite a bit of experience.¡± A mischievous glint appeared in his eye as he breathed out a lungful of smoke. ¡°Ah, yes. That reminds me, I noticed that Sylvia had to bail you out the other day.¡±


    ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°So I was thinking that the best way to curb your reckless abandon might be to get rid of your safety net.¡± There was an awkward pause as the man waited for Claire to react, but she remained perfectly silent. Her mouth stayed shut and her expression failed to change.


    ¡°Well then. I was expecting more of a reaction.¡± He faked a cough and cleared his throat. "Perhaps I need to work a little on the delivery.¡± He muttered a bit of self criticism under his breath as he raised his head. ¡°Now, where was I? Ah, yes.¡± He clapped his hands together. ¡°I¡¯ll be giving Sylvia a lyrkress fetish the next time she has to save you. Just so you feel a little less invincible.¡±


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Claire¡¯s tongue flicked against the back of her teeth. Chewing on his words made her want to retch, spit, and rinse out her mouth. The man was nothing short of stabbable. She wanted to vent her frustrations on his face, but suppressed the urge in short order. She knew that she couldn¡¯t let him get to her. He was a conniving old bastard; the moment she lost her calm was the moment he won.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the fourth chapter?¡± Her control over her pitch was perfect. Her tone was so flat that it trumped even her chest.


    ¡°My apologies, I almost forgot about it.¡± The old man chuckled as he fiddled through the documents on his desk, eventually pulling one out from under a large pile. ¡°Here you are.¡± The page slid out of his hand and floated its way over to her. Unlike the others, it was made of paper instead of parchment and its words were inscribed not in ink, but an emerald flame.


    Log Entry 2935


    You have read The Lost Library¡¯s Fourth Chapter. It has been transcribed into your native language as the following log entry.


    Log Entry 2936


    Hello, trial goer, and congratulations on finding a fourth set of instructions. Only three more remain, and while it may be difficult to seek them, you are sure to find the Grand Cathedral so long as you continue to endeavour. If you ever find yourself at a roadblock, with a lack of monsters to fuel your growth, then seek the Equitaur¡¯s Trial. It is capable of providing a reasonable challenge to any, and of course a corresponding reward.


    Comprehending the contents of this message will grant the following boons:


    - An audience with the Head Librarian.


    - An immediate upgrade to any Catgirl Detector skills.


    - Access to a new class. In your case, a librarian has decided that this will be Llystletein Stormbreaker. This class is a potential evolution to Llystletein Vector Mage.


    Another class relating to storms.


    Log Entry 2937


    Catgirl Detector V. 0.33 has been forcefully evolved into Catgirl Detector V. 0.34. Minor technical optimisations have been made, but there are no noticeable differences to the average end user. Individuals with high agility scores may notice an improvement in the skill¡¯s processing speed. This upgrade comes with an increased attraction to catgirls.


    I hope you die, Alfred.


    Placing his elbows on his desk, the old man formed a bridge with his fingers and rested his chin on top of it. ¡°So? What are you going to ask me this time?¡± he said, with a toothy grin. ¡°We have all the time in the world, and I know Sylvia¡¯s already given you a bit of a history lesson. I¡¯m sure you must have plenty of questions.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Really, none?¡± The man raised a brow and frowned. ¡°Well, if you¡¯re not interested, then you¡¯re not interested, I guess. Nothing I can do there.¡± His wand descended from a nearby bookshelf and caught his hat before it fell far enough to obscure his eyes. ¡°Feel free to ask me about anything else you have in mind as well. Your questions don¡¯t have to be about Llystletein.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any questions.¡±


    ¡°Really? Not even about that meeting you had with Flux, Vella, and Builledracht the other day? I¡¯m sure I could offer a fair bit of insight. Perhaps even into their motives.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    The old man broke into a cackle. ¡°I know Sylvia just told you I was sealed, but that doesn¡¯t necessarily mean what you might think. I still have free access to the divine realm and my information network happens to be on the more accurate side. You can go check with her if you don¡¯t believe me.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°You still don¡¯t trust me? Really?¡± he adjusted his glasses and took a whiff from his pipe. ¡°Sylvia¡¯s lied to you much more than I have, and you clearly trust her.¡±


    ¡°Most of them were little white lies.¡±


    ¡°Maybe if you discount all the times she¡¯s tried to kill you.¡±


    ¡°I said most. Not all.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡± He took off his hat, revealing a head of thick silver hair as he set the pointed leather cap on his desk. ¡°I don¡¯t see any reason for you to defend her with what she¡¯s done, nor do I see why you haven¡¯t tried to kill her. Everything else that¡¯s messed with you has gotten either a foot or a knife to the face.¡± Alfred frowned. ¡°Maybe you need a quest as an incentive? I¡¯m pulling at straws here, give me something to work with.¡±


    ¡°Incentives won¡¯t help.¡± The answer was immediate; it came far too quickly for something that had been given a second thought.


    ¡°And why not?¡± The old man¡¯s eyes almost seemed to twinkle.


    ¡°I can¡¯t kill an aspect.¡±


    Alfred studied her carefully, adjusting his glasses several times as he stared at her poker face. ¡°That can¡¯t be the only reason, can it? Please tell me there¡¯s more to it than just that.¡±


    ¡°Of cour¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say it. You¡¯re going to kill my fantasies.¡± The old man collapsed onto his desk and groaned, his face buried in his arms.


    ¡°Of course there isn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Damn it! I just told you not to say it!¡±


    ¡°Too bad.¡± Though she didn¡¯t dare let it show on her face, Claire was on the verge of breaking into a cheer. She had finally gotten him back, just once, for all the suffering he had forced on her. She almost wanted to lash out with an added declaration or two about catgirls, but she knew better than to continue running her mouth. Whatever she said in haste was likely to be used against her.


    ¡°Why do you have to pop my bubble like that? Can¡¯t you just let an old man dream?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Claire crossed her arms. ¡°And you aren¡¯t old. You¡¯re a celestial.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m an old celestial. I¡¯ve more millennia under my belt than you do years.¡±


    ¡°Your age won¡¯t kill you. It¡¯s irrelevant.¡±


    ¡°Yes and no. You¡¯re right in that it doesn¡¯t typically happen, but there are a few technicalities that make it possible.¡± He slumped back into his chair. ¡°Are you sure you really don¡¯t have anything to ask?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°I give up.¡± The human groaned. ¡°I¡¯ve given you advice. I¡¯ve helped you along with classes and quests, and you still refuse to trust me.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°Can I leave now?¡±


    ¡°Do whatever you want.¡±


    With an annoyed wave of the wand, the demigod sent her on her way.


    ¡°Thank you, celestial of the lost library, sovereign of life and creation.¡± Claire put on a reverent smile and performed a picture-perfect curtsy as her spiritual body began to fade. ¡°I wish you luck in your escape. May you continue to watch over me, as I continue to wander the domain crafted by your hand.¡±


    ¡°And now she starts acting like that?¡± Alfred banged his head against the table. ¡°Fifty thousand years,¡± he muttered, as she vanished. ¡°Fifty thousand years of making women, and I still can¡¯t quite seem to understand them.¡±


    ___


    Claire¡¯s smile warped into a smirk as she got over the wave of nausea that came with being beamed back into her body. She hadn¡¯t exactly slugged the old man in the face, like she wanted, but she had certainly gotten one up on him. And as far as she was concerned, that was all that mattered.


    ¡°How¡¯d it go?¡± A voice pulled her eyes towards the hexstone. Its half-elven source was curled up into a ball, with only her head slightly raised. In front of her hovered a portable flame, a lit torch kept within a much larger floating bubble.


    ¡°I thought you went back to bed.¡±


    ¡°I was going to!¡± Sylvia¡¯s tail flicked to and fro. ¡°But the explosions were too loud. I couldn¡¯t fall asleep anymore. Oh, and everyone else woke up too.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Claire raised her ears and scanned her surroundings. ¡°Where are they? I don¡¯t hear them.¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t think it was safe to stay at camp, so they backed off through one of the tunnels.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± The blueblood got up from her spot by the hexstone and wandered over to the monster¡¯s corpse. ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll be happy about this.¡±


    Very little remained intact. Its head had been reduced to a crushed lower jaw, with everything else from the neck up completely obliterated by the crystal that burst from its head. All its legs and spines had been ejected during its death and fired into the various walls. The inside of its throat was charred by its own arcane magic, and its spine was damaged right down the centre, courtesy of a certain incorporeal snake. Not even its rear was looking usable. The blade at the far end of the saw tail was relatively undamaged, but most of the chains holding it in place were cracked, broken, or missing.


    ¡°Yeah, it looks a little banged up.¡± Sylvia¡¯s tail flicked back and forth as she jumped to her feet. ¡°I bet this never would¡¯ve happened if you just learned to sing again! Barding things to death is way easier than bludgeoning them, and it keeps the corpse looking picture perfect too.¡±


    ¡°No. I told you, we¡¯re not singing a duet.¡±


    ¡°Awwww¡­ why not?¡± The furball¡¯s ears drooped.


    ¡°Because it¡¯s pointless. I can¡¯t become a bard.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but you don¡¯t need to! You can turn one of your classes into a hybrid if you want. Like that warrior class!¡±


    ¡°Rogue.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a warrior. I¡¯m a rogue.¡±


    ¡°You are?¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice. ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure.¡± The bloodthief rolled her eyes. ¡°What are you trying to say?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Nothing.¡± Averting her gaze, the vixen hopped on top of Claire¡¯s head and pointed towards the nearest hall. ¡°We should go find the others before they panic.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    The lyrkress gave the fox¡¯s nose a knowing pinch as she turned back into a lamia and sought the three musketeers.

 Chapter 112 - Eel Season VI

    Chapter 112 - Eel Season VI


    ¡°Is that it? It doesn¡¯t look half as bad as you said.¡± Myrtle¡¯s torso grew in both length and width as she stretched to nearly twice her usual height and looked over Claire¡¯s shoulder. Her eyes glimmered with blatant greed as she fixed them on the corpse that lay ahead.


    ¡°It appears that there are only a few parts that are too damaged to use.¡± Nodding, the scyph floated over and pressed a tentacle against the eel¡¯s remains. He slowly slid the limb along the monster¡¯s body, as if to inspect it for damage. It was a single smooth motion; he treated burnt flesh, bleeding wounds, and protruding bone all the same. ¡°It is possible to retrieve most of it, so long as we are careful enough not to make any mistakes.¡±


    ¡°It is?¡± Claire squinted and tilted her head, but her evaluation remained unchanged. ¡°It looks like junk to me.¡±


    At best, the monster looked like a heap of flesh, blood, and scrap metal. The lyrkress didn¡¯t see any purpose to anything besides its tail, and even then, she was more inclined to weaponize its spines than she was the blade of its saw.


    ¡°I can think of a few ways to use it, and Fred¡¯s more creative than the three of us combined, so I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll figure something out,¡± said Lova. ¡°The tail¡¯s condition isn¡¯t much of an issue. We were always planning to melt it down.¡±


    ¡°You were?¡± The lyrkress blinked.


    ¡°Fred was going to have us help him with whatever he was making you,¡± said the weaver.


    ¡°You¡¯re all craftsmen? No wonder you¡¯re so weak.¡±


    ¡°We are not¡­ exactly weak. Our ability score spreads just don¡¯t match our roles, and we¡¯ve yet to regain all our racial skills,¡± said the moth, with a pout. ¡°We¡¯ll be back to normal so long as we put in the time. We might even be stronger than we were before if we happen to get the right classes.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°When did you suddenly get so bold?¡±


    Lova flinched, taking half a step back before returning to her prior position with a twitch of the antennae. ¡°T-that isn¡¯t going to work. I know you¡¯re just messing with me.¡±


    The lyrkress held the stare for another few seconds, but the moth didn¡¯t back down. ¡°What a shame.¡±


    ¡°I would really rather you stop that.¡± The moth spoke with a frown. ¡°And I would also really like you to give me my map back.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°I saw you looking over it earlier!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± repeated the halfbreed.


    Lova grabbed Claire by the shoulders, shouting as she stared her in the eyes. ¡°Give it back. Please, please give it back! Fred is going to put me through hell if he ever finds out that I don¡¯t have it anymore!" Hysterical tears welled up in the corner of the Kryddarian¡¯s moderately oversized eyes.


    The lyrkress did little but blink as she tried to process the change in the other girl¡¯s behaviour. It was strangely familiar, not because the two had ever met, but because the sudden shift from polite to pathetic reminded her of many a lady back home. Mariabelle had always been the same way, only the maid was not as quick to switch gears. She would always tear up and sniffle before raising the dam that held back her resentment.


    ¡°Don¡¯t just stare at me! Give it back! Please!¡±


    Claire raised her tail and pushed the moth away, face first, before turning to the two most likely to have a decent grasp on the status quo. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with her?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps she is finally over her fear of yo-¡±


    ¡°Shhhh, Grell!¡± The alraune wrapped several vines around the bottom of the jellyfish¡¯s lobe, silencing him. ¡°You¡¯re going to embarrass her!¡± she whispered under her breath before clearing her throat. ¡°He meant to say that she¡¯s gotten over her fear of strangers. This is a lot more like the Lova we know.¡± The plant spoke up as she turned back to the scaly stranger.


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I was asking.¡±


    Claire pulled back her tail before quickly snapping into its original position. The second motion was accompanied with a small burst of force magic, applied directly to the Kryddarian¡¯s face. A lighter Lady would have been flung several meters back, but Lova¡¯s armour kept her from flying away. Though she slid only a few meters away, the lyrkress remained satisfied with the result. All she had really wanted was to get the overly excitable insect out of her face.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire?¡± Her hat poked at one of her ears as it spoke. ¡°Why don¡¯t you just give her the map? It¡¯s not like you need it anymore, now that you¡¯re tunneling through all the walls.¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s mine.¡±


    Sylvia leaned forward to peer down at her owner¡¯s face before turning towards the moth and slowly shaking her head. ¡°Sorry Lova, I don¡¯t think she¡¯s gonna give it to you. She never changes her mind when she gets like this.¡±


    The spellweaver slumped her shoulders, leaned forward, and spoke with an audible sniffle. ¡°It¡¯s okay¡­ I¡¯ll just have to make another one.¡± Each word was heavier and more lethargic than the last. ¡°I just hope Fred lets me off easy, this time.¡±


    Again, Claire blinked. Why are her mood swings so violent? Almost shaking her head, the force mage turned back towards the corpse and used the full extent of her magical might to inch it towards her. ¡°Then it isn¡¯t junk?¡±


    ¡°Not at all,¡± said the alraune, with a smile. ¡°I¡¯m sure Fred would be glad to have it. It isn¡¯t everyday that he gets to see a sawfish over 150. He¡¯s far too lazy to gather any materials on his own.¡±


    Myrtle walked around the room and picked up the various spines strewn all over the ground, inspecting each in turn. Most were immediately discarded, placed right back where she found them, but the occasional undamaged specimen was kept. She wrapped the ones she approved of in a bundle of cloth and set them aside.


    ¡°How could you tell what level it was?¡± asked the snake girl.


    ¡°We¡¯ve killed it before,¡± said the plant, who was immediately made the subject of a blank stare. ¡°I was just kidding, you didn¡¯t have to glare at me like that!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not glaring,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Oh, you silly little thing.¡± Myrtle laughed and extended a vine towards the lamia, but Claire shied away from it. ¡°We¡¯re all a lot older than we look, Claire. You¡¯re not as hard to read as you might think.¡±


    The lyrkress tilted her head. ¡°It was just a stare.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it was,¡± giggled the flower. ¡°Now how about we get going? We¡¯ll all have to work together. I don¡¯t think we can get this up to the citadel if we don¡¯t, at least not without alerting the lord of the chains.¡±


    Claire lowered her hood over her eyes for a few moments before raising her voice. ¡°What level is it?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps in the range of the upper one hundreds or lower two hundreds.¡± The scyph spoke with an audible buzz as he floated between them. ¡°It is difficult to know for certain. Few have been able to deliver a finishing blow, as it often escapes by way of flight.¡±


    ¡°How do I get its attention? Is climbing a chain enough?¡±


    ¡°Can it wait? I¡¯d really like to get this sawfish to the workshop first,¡± said Myrtle. ¡°It¡¯ll take a lot longer for us to deliver it by ourselves, especially with the storm.¡± She cast her eyes towards the despondent moth girl hugging her knees and rocking back and forth. ¡°Lova is the only one that can carry any weight with her when she flies, and she¡¯s going to be far too tired to ferry me back up when she¡¯s done.¡±


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    The flower girl had deployed a parachute in the form of a large leaf during her descent. It was an efficient way of getting down from the citadel, but the retractable body part couldn¡¯t be flapped quickly enough for her to take to the skies.


    ¡°Then you can climb the chains while I distract it. It¡¯ll save time.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, but we would like to start on your equipment immediately upon our return, and we don¡¯t have any plans or measurements,¡± said the jellyfish.


    ¡°I thought Frederick was working on it.¡±


    Myrtle nodded vigorously. ¡°He is! We¡¯re going to be helping him with some of the less difficult tasks. I know you¡¯re not very impressed with us right now, but we¡¯re all level one hundred smiths, at least.¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°What about your combat classes?¡±


    ¡°Late twenties if my information is correct,¡± said Grell.


    ¡°Thirty one, now. After the crab,¡± said Lova.


    ¡°Oh.¡± Claire grabbed the eel by the tail and began dragging it through the sand. After taking exactly seven steps, she came to an abrupt stop and slowly turned around. ¡°Can¡¯t I just tell you what I want now?¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t. Fred won¡¯t work on it if he doesn¡¯t get to dictate the design,¡± said Lova. She slowly stood up from her corner, her head and arms still hanging. ¡°He¡¯s really bossy.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± The lyrkress-turned-lamia breathed a sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll kill it later.¡±


    ¡°Wow! Someone¡¯s actually managed to convince you to change your mind about something?¡± gasped a wide-eyed fox. ¡°I think that might be a first.¡±


    ¡°You shut up.¡± Hissing, she hoisted the monster¡¯s midsection over her shoulder, pinched her hat¡¯s whiskers, and made for the nearest exit.


    Agreeing to the monumental task known as transporting the oversized sea creature was nothing short of a miserable mistake. It would have been a pain to move, even if its weight was cut in half. The beast was several times her size; having it over her shoulder made it difficult to walk and dragging it was far more effort than it was worth. Still, the less-than-combat-worthy trio had insisted that she take the whole thing with her. The monster¡¯s tail was its most valuable part, but the rest of it could also be put to good use. The skin could be made into armour, and the bones could be used as is or processed into other goods. Even the meat was top notch, if Sylvia was to be believed. The fox¡¯s obvious gluttony was the transportation task¡¯s only saving grace. A few quick negotiations was all it took to convince her to lighten the load by placing it within a bubble.


    Even with her help, the arduous chore remained a pain in the almost royal posterior. Claire found it extremely difficult to swim whilst moving it along the ocean floor, and surmounting the tempest had been next to impossible. Unlike the flying eggplant, which casually flew around with a fully grown palm tree on its back, they had to cut the eel¡¯s twenty meter-long body into a series of smaller segments and transport them one at a time. By the end of it all, the moose-snake was exhausted, physically and mentally. All she wanted was to requisition her room and take another nap, but she didn¡¯t have the opportunity to retire immediately. She was escorted instead to another stone building with firelight leaking from its windows.


    The tempest was raging around her, but neither the howling gales nor the whistling winds could stop the forge from reaching her ears. The rhythmic, metallic clinking was ever-present. Once every other second, the hammer would strike the anvil, or at least whatever was placed on top of it. The sound was so distinctive that she could almost see the sparks fly every time she closed her eyes.


    Though unfamiliar with the art form, she was not entirely uneducated in the way of the forge. Her father had incidentally taken her to a variety of smithies in an attempt to impart at least some relevant knowledge. Claire, however, had never been very interested in listening, not after he decided to scream at her when she first tried to play with an enchanted weapon.


    Like the temple, the forge was left unlocked. Lova opened the front door with an almost impossibly simple motion. All she did was lightly press her hand against it and give it a light push. To the lyrkress¡¯ surprise, the wooden panel didn¡¯t seem to care for the wind. It didn¡¯t suddenly slam shut or find itself blown away. In fact, it didn¡¯t even move, save for when it was touched. Claire didn¡¯t recognize the enchantment, but she certainly had to admit that the spell was doing its fair share.


    Though the cathedral was packed full, there weren¡¯t nearly as many people hanging around what she assumed to be Frederick¡¯s home. The species were also significantly less diverse. Looking through the house-cum-workshop, she found that there were a disproportionately large number of Ryllians and insectoids, species with a relatively low sensitivity to sound, and for good reason. Though the clinking had come off as acceptable white noise at first, it rapidly degenerated into a glaring annoyance. It was perfectly consistent, save for when it wasn¡¯t, and she hated every moment of it. Sleeping in the workshop¡¯s vicinity simply didn¡¯t seem possible, at least not for anyone with ears.


    ¡°Welcome to Fred¡¯s workshop,¡± Lova led her through the building as she spoke. She was the only one of the three craftsmen to accompany her inside. The others were put on transport duty; they were kept busy ferrying the monster¡¯s parts back between the foyer and the basement. ¡°I know it¡¯s awfully loud, but you¡¯ll just have to wait. We¡¯d never hear the end of it if we didn¡¯t wait for him to come out on his own.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Dad¡¯s told me about that!¡± Sylvia shot to her feet. ¡°Apparently if you barge in and make him mess up whatever he¡¯s making, he might just get so mad at you that he¡¯ll chase you around with a hammer for the better part of a week!


    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen him do that, but I wouldn¡¯t put it past him.¡± Lova opened a door and showed the pair inside a large drawing room, complete with an expensive-looking set of wooden furniture and a room-sized carpet made of a single monster¡¯s fur. ¡°Please don¡¯t do anything that would make him angry. He¡¯s already mad enough at me as it stands.¡±


    The furball cocked her head. ¡°Why? What did you do?¡±


    ¡°I lost my map.¡± Lova gave Claire a look that was halfway between an accusing stare and a desperate plea, continuing only after several seconds of being thoroughly ignored. ¡°He taught me how to make the parchment, and he made sure I copied everything correctly by hand. I was forced to start over every single time I made a mistake.¡±


    ¡°How awful,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°How awful? How awful!? You¡¯re awful!¡± shouted Lova. ¡°Please give it back! I¡¯d rather die than be put through that again!¡±


    The lamia climbed on top of a one-seat sofa and curled up her tail. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Wha¡ª¡± Lova tried to speak, but a magical force raised her lower jaw and shut her mouth every time she tried to speak.


    ¡°You know, Claire. She has a point,¡± whispered the fox. ¡°You are being pretty awful right now. And it doesn¡¯t even look like you¡¯re having fun this time.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s mine now.¡±


    The lyrkress averted her gaze. She knew that there was certainly a point to be had, but she didn¡¯t like the idea of relinquishing her loot. While it wasn¡¯t exactly hard-earned, it was the only long-lasting item she had gotten from the labyrinth. Nothing else ever seemed to last. All of her other recent acquisitions had broken after just a few quick fights.


    ¡°I really think you should just give it back. I won''t stop telling you where things are since you can go through walls anyway.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Claire refused, but Sylvia continued to give her an expectant gaze, one that followed her, even when the half-moose shifted her eyes away. The silent encounter lasted for over a minute, the entire duration of which was spent with the moth in the background nervously glancing between the two with bated breath.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Heaving a sigh, she reached under her cloak, produced the parchment in question, and lobbed it onto the table.


    It was snatched away almost immediately; Lova pulled it to her chest and hid it within her armour in the blink of an eye. ¡°Thank you.¡± The Kryddarian¡¯s antennae twitched in relief. ¡°I really appreciate it. I didn¡¯t want to have to spend another month starting over from scratch,¡± she said, in a whisper.


    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault you were being eaten alive,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I know...¡± Lova¡¯s wings flopped forward as she hung her head and hid her dimming eyes beneath her blue-grey bangs.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, we all mess up sometimes.¡± Sylvia jumped off Claire¡¯s head, walked across the table, and placed a paw on the slumped moth¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t think anyone else would be entering the instance,¡± said the fuzzy insect. ¡°At least not someone that would suddenly take the monsters all the way from level thirty to level eighty.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ Oops.¡± All the eyes in the room turned towards the fox, who had started backpedaling with both front limbs held in front of her snout.


    ¡°And now you know whose fault it is,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°Claire! You can¡¯t just rat me out like that!¡±


    Sylvia ran back across the table and drummed her pads across the snake girl¡¯s coiled tail. It looked like she was using all her strength, but only because the motions were exaggerated to the extreme. Claire knew for a fact that the thumping wouldn¡¯t have been painless if the fox went all out. Like the time she broke my skull.


    ¡°I can¡¯t? Why not?¡±


    Sylvia¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°W-what do you mean why not!? We¡¯re friends! You¡¯re supposed to back me up!¡±


    ¡°Friends don¡¯t have to back each other up.¡±


    ¡°Yes they do!¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Sylvia raised both paws above her head as she shouted.


    ¡°Okay, you know what? Fine.¡± Claire pulled the fox into her arms, as if to shield her from the moth¡¯s guilt-inducing stare. ¡°It¡¯s not her fault. She only did it because she¡¯s an idiot.¡±


    ¡°Yea¡ªhey, wait a second!¡± She went from nodding along to trying to pry herself free, but she wasn¡¯t able to escape. Her captor kept her locked perfectly in place, even as she flailed about. ¡°You¡¯re making it sound like I messed up! I didn¡¯t even know they were in there!¡±


    ¡°Stop loud!¡±


    A shout came from the hallway, accompanied by a heavy set of footsteps. Its owner barged in a moment later, kicking the door open with a grunt. He was still holding a red-hot blade in one hand and an oversized mallet in the other.


    ¡°Make hard focus, be quiet or me kick out,¡± he complained, before turning to the lyrkrian guest. ¡°Saw material, is good, you what want?¡±


    Setting Sylvia down on the table, Claire created a long icy pole arm and presented it to the purple-skinned goblin. ¡°A spear. I want a spear.¡±

 Chapter 113 - Eel Season VII

    Chapter 113 - Eel Season VII


    ¡°Want spear? Make no sense.¡± The goblin furrowed his brow as he took the icy rod and looked it over. ¡°Use this hard for you, too long and no fit body.¡±


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t.¡±


    Claire looked between the moth and the goblin before slithering off the sofa and undoing her transformation. Legs sprouted from the bulky torso that grew from her hips while the front half of her tail lost its scales in favour of a coat made of fine, silvery blue hairs. Along with the reversion came a sense of relief. She had more or less gotten used to the sensation of keeping it maintained, but undoing it was liberating, like taking off a corset after a ball.


    Lova gasped. ¡°Legs! I knew it!¡±


    ¡°These aren¡¯t legs.¡± Claire wriggled the flippers that protruded from the base of her tail. ¡°They¡¯re fins.¡±


    ¡°Then what about the two in front?¡± asked the moth. Her eyelids drooped as she gave the other girl a fed-up, unamused glare.


    The lyrkress raised her legs and opened the stabilizers attached to her ankles. ¡°These are also fins.¡±


    Lova opened her mouth to protest, but she was cut off by a fit of laughter. Sylvia had started rolling around and cackling in a way that only a fox could. The high pitched squeals were matched and complemented by a set of low chuckles, sourced from the baritone goblin.


    ¡°Give up, Lova. Lost to this lassie, you did.¡± He shook his head and laughed again as he planted the spear¡¯s butt on the carpet. ¡°Match your size, this still no me thinks. Need get something longer, so can swing with more weight. Fight in any other forms?¡±


    Claire paused for a moment before shifting into a cervitaur. ¡°If I need to.¡±


    ¡°Now there are even more legs!¡± shouted Lova.


    ¡°Fins,¡± said Claire.


    She hadn¡¯t wanted to reveal her hand, but she didn¡¯t see a point in keeping the goblin in the dark. He was going to have to know at least a few things about her if he was to make a weapon that suited her inconsistent form. More importantly, she didn¡¯t think that she would have been able to beat him in a fight, no matter how much information she withheld. No trick could make up for his ability to casually send a crack down the icy blade¡¯s length with a light, accidental squeeze¡ªnot that it really mattered. She wasn¡¯t planning to attack a thrice ascended goblin regardless of the amount of experience he would yield, at least not without good reason.


    ¡°The one with two legs and a long body tail thingy is the one she likes best,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°She doesn¡¯t really switch unless something gets broken. Which ummm¡­ happens quite a bit actually.¡±


    ¡°Is right?¡± He turned to Claire, who responded with a curt nod. ¡°Understand, me does. Want shapeshifter enchants no doubt, maybe others too. Need specific properties, or me decide?¡±


    ¡°You can decide.¡±


    ¡°Use discretion then, me will,¡± he said, with a smirk. ¡°Will cost much for good enchant. Need take rest of material except meat to make up difference, but me give big surprise and make worth it.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes and gave him a brief stare. The glint in his eye made his greed immediately apparent; she could see in him the same spark she had seen in every merchant that had ever stopped by the manor. It was an eager, avaricious sheen driven entirely by a thirst for riches.


    They had entered a negotiation. And while she didn¡¯t have the patience to participate, neither did she want to acquiesce. Giving into his demands would set a precedent and provide him the opportunity to take advantage of her, each and every single time they dealt.


    ¡°A spear isn¡¯t enough. Not if you want all of it.¡±


    ¡°Is enough.¡± The goblin shook his head.


    ¡°You promised a set of armour.¡±


    ¡°Lent you armour for copy, me did.¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t the same. I gave it back."


    ¡°Returned damaged, needed repair most pieces.¡±


    There was a moment of silence as the two stared each other down. Claire couldn¡¯t refute his claim. A momentary lapse of judgement had certainly led her to damage a fair number of his products.


    Though the mishap was being used blatantly against her, she didn¡¯t regret the mistake. The advice that followed had served to mitigate some of her injuries, when she fought the eel.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­¡± Sylvia took the opportunity to butt in. ¡°What did you do, Claire?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°It can¡¯t have been not-¡± The fox¡¯s mouth was pinched shut. ¡°Mmmrphh mmrhphh mrphh!¡± She flailed around for a little and kept trying to talk, quieting down only after a few seconds of struggling.


    ¡°Not during negotiations,¡± said Claire, as she released her. ¡°You can talk all you want once we¡¯re done.¡±


    ¡°That better be a promise! Because I¡¯m going to talk your ears off!¡±


    Sealing the deal with a nod, the lyrkress turned back towards the goblin and crossed her arms. Though she would never admit it to the canid in question, Sylvia¡¯s brief stint had bought her enough time to recall an important fact, an avenue to success, assuming she hadn¡¯t failed to read the goblin¡¯s character.


    ¡°You repaired them in an instant.¡±


    ¡°Waste of mana still. Fixing no necessary if you no break, lassie. Use mana for forging and enhancing, and since me used for fix, me make less and profit less.¡±


    ¡°Maybe if you were less skilled.¡± A brief, confident smile crossed her lips. ¡°I know master smiths regenerate more mana than they use. And your workmanship was the best I¡¯ve seen.¡±


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    The statement was a lie. Unlike her father, she didn¡¯t know the difference between a well-made piece of armour and one forged by an ordinary Joe. At most, she could tell if its decorations were in good taste; judging an item¡¯s quality, as a piece of equipment, was far beyond the scope of her knowledge. All things considered, the fib was a terrible, fragile bluff. The goblin would catch it the moment he put half a second of thought into the way she had tried to experiment with his creations. But even if he caught on, he would be unable to outright refute the claim, at least not without suffering a blow to his pride.


    ¡°Recognize me good, yes? Showing that you smarter than me thought. Is true, me master smith.¡±


    Her concerns were quickly proven moot. He was caught, hook, line, and sinker. The wide, worry-free grin on his face was a clear sign that he had failed to arrive at the dilemma proposed. She was in the green. All she needed to do was keep him from thinking.


    ¡°I won¡¯t ask for much. I know better smiths cost more,¡± she said. ¡°I want a dagger, made from the tail.¡±


    ¡°Take only little material to make dagger, me approve,¡± he extended his arm.


    ¡°Deal.¡±


    Claire took his hand and shook it. The scales hadn¡¯t exactly shifted in her favour, but she had managed to secure an extra weapon and proven that it wouldn¡¯t be easy to take advantage of her. For the time being, it was the best she could do. Striking a fair deal was impossible without more knowledge¡ªor an unbiased appraiser.


    ¡°Can I talk now?¡± Sylvia tugged on Claire¡¯s ears as she spoke, her voice low and grumbly.


    ¡°No.¡± The lyrkress lifted the animal off her head, scratched the back of her ears, and she set her down on the table. ¡°Wait a little longer.¡±


    Sylvia looked at her for a moment, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. ¡°Wait a second!¡± she barked. ¡°You¡¯re just teasing me now!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said Claire with an internal click of the tongue. The pet was getting a little too good at seeing through her for comfort. ¡°Now¡­¡± The bluescale gave the fox¡¯s cheeks one last pinch before returning her gaze to the goblin. ¡°Let¡¯s talk specifics.¡±


    ¡°Will no talk specifics,¡± he said, as he shot her a glare. ¡°Say me master smith then need trust, lassie. Need you just wait and see, me will do proper job.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never seen me fight.¡±


    ¡°Need no see fight, she see fight.¡± He prodded his chin in Lova¡¯s direction. ¡°Can hear from her and make good design.¡±


    ¡°She barely saw anything.¡±


    ¡°Say truth, she does?¡± asked the goblin.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± The Kryddarian lowered her head and looked towards the floor as she was suddenly made the subject of several sharp glares.


    The purple-skinned plague monster creased his brows and curved his lips into a frown. The disappointed, annoyed glare he shot her was only exaggerated by the veins bulging out of his forehead. Claire¡¯s stare, on the other hand, was a little less justified. Suppressing a teasing grin, she narrowed her eyes into a judging stare, and she wasn¡¯t the only one. After glancing between the goblin and the not-snake, the fox stood up on her hind legs, put her hands on her hips, and frowned at the moth. Unlike the others, her annoyance seemed superficial at best.


    ¡°I-in my defence, she snuck off to challenge it while we were all asleep!¡± All four of her hands fiddled with her wings as she blurted out the excuse. ¡°P-please don¡¯t misunderstand, Fred. It wasn¡¯t our fault!¡±


    The goblin heaved a sigh and shook his head. ¡°Blame you, me won¡¯t. Return this fast means rush to end, all you be tired.¡±


    He raised a hand to his hairless head and scratched the back of his flaky scalp. After what seemed like a moment of deliberation, he turned to Sylvia, who looked behind herself to confirm that she was really the target of his attention.


    ¡°Sing remembrance song, fox. Know that you Zelos daughter, me sure he taught.¡±


    ¡°Remembrance song? What¡¯s that?¡± said Sylvia, with a triple blink.


    ¡°Show memories with illusion, like for theatre play,¡± explained the goblin.


    ¡°Oh ummm¡­ I¡¯m actually really bad at that.¡± The vixen laughed sheepishly. ¡°But I have a different spell that¡¯s kinda similar but it¡¯s inside your head instead of a real illusion. Is that okay?¡±


    ¡°Tell name? Will know if one of Zelos¡¯ tricks.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you know¡­ it¡¯s nothing special! Just the song of night terrors,¡± chirped Sylvia, with all the bubbliness of someone that didn¡¯t just suggest completely ruining the goblin¡¯s evening.


    Groaning, Frederick gave the back of his head another annoyed scratch. ¡°Accept, me does,¡± he said, after a brief delay. ¡°Want no deal night terrors, but me will do if memories firsthand and you try make no so bad.¡±


    ¡°Yup, don¡¯t worry!¡± Sylvia stood up on her hind legs and puffed out her chest. ¡°I¡¯ve personally watched all her fights for the past two weeks. Well, almost. There are a few things missing, but it¡¯s almost all there!¡±


    ¡°Show,¡± said the goblin.


    ¡°Okay! Several straight hours of memories coming right up!¡±


    Sylvia pressed a paw to her chest, and after taking a deep breath, unleashed a melody in a particularly uncharacteristic pitch. Her usual soprano was abandoned in favour of a deep contralto that carried through the walls. Though it was almost off-putting to know that it had come from the fox, the lower key was perfect for the song in question. It was an almost requiem-like, somber tune, filled with long, drawn-out notes sustained for longer than a breath.


    The moth was unaffected, but the goblin, who the fox had trapped inside a large bubble, was put right to sleep. The process was anything but gradual. He didn¡¯t drowse or slowly lose his wakefulness. Sylvia¡¯s spell was so potent that he was rendered incapable of offering any resistance. One moment, he was awake, and the next, he was seven dreams deep in his slumber.


    ¡°Okay! That¡¯s that.¡± Her song completed, Sylvia wagged her tail in satisfaction and dropped back down to all fours. ¡°I think you¡¯re probably going to have to have someone to keep an eye on him, because he¡¯s gonna randomly start screaming every once in a while. I¡¯ve made it so it isn¡¯t really all that scary, but some of the freaky stuff kinda comes with the spell so that¡¯s kinda just how it is.¡±


    ¡°Thank you Sylvia. I¡¯ll get someone to look after him,¡± said Lova.


    ¡°No problem! Oh and it¡¯s normal if he wakes up for a bit. The spell reapplies itself until it runs out of mana, and I¡¯ve given it a good bit, so it should last for at least half a day. I think that should be enough time to give him a pretty good idea of what he wants.¡±


    Lova put a hand on her breastplate and nodded. ¡°That¡¯s wonderful. I just hope he doesn¡¯t decide that he wants to lecture us anyway. It really wasn¡¯t our fault we missed it.¡±


    ¡°I hope not! That sounds awful,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Oh, and speaking of things going bad, I really need to go get all that eel meat before it starts to smell!¡± The fox turned around. ¡°Come on, Claire! Let¡¯s go grab it! The longer we wait, the more it loses its taste!¡± Only after finishing her sentence did she finally realise that the conversation partner in question was missing altogether. ¡°Wait, where¡¯s Claire?¡±


    The moth shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I think she left a little while ago, but I have no idea where she went. I thought she was looking to use the restroom, but she never came ba¡ª¡±


    Lova¡¯s explanation was cut off by a loud crash. The sound was rather distant, but not so distant that it didn¡¯t grab their attention. Driven by her curiosity, Sylvia pranced over to one of the windows, popped it open, and stuck out her head. There was clearly an altercation, and a quick glance at the street immediately confirmed Claire¡¯s involvement. She was more or less the sound¡¯s source; something had violently smashed her into the ground and looking up into the stormy night sky confirmed its identity. It was a massive owl made almost entirely of sand¡ªthe lord of the chains.


    ¡°She¡¯s fighting another lord already? It¡¯s hardly been a few hours since she killed the last one,¡± said Lova, wide-eyed.


    ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s like that sometimes,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Are you gonna watch them fight? I can make a bubble that¡¯ll make everything look a lot closer if you want.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, but I think I will have to decline,¡± said Lova. ¡°I¡¯ve been up for far too long, and I would really like to get some rest.¡±


    ¡°Oh, okay! In that case, I¡¯m gonna go watch her from up close. See ya!¡±


    ¡°Be careful!¡±


    Climbing out through the window and leaving Lova to close it, the fox leapt over to the battle and secured a seat atop a nearby roof. It was time to do as she always did, and play the part of an idle observer.

 Chapter 114 - The One-Legged Kraken

    Chapter 114 - The One-Legged Kraken


    ¡°Stupid owl.¡± Claire grumbled under her breath as she scanned her surroundings. Her eyes sharp, she carefully looked around the air for any dust particles, hints that would lead her to the monster¡¯s lair. But try as she might, she was unable to find anything. The sand owl was nowhere to be seen. It had scattered its body to the wind and vanished the moment she put it on its back foot. She tried turning around and exposing her back, but even then, it showed no signs of returning.


    Breathing an annoyed sigh, she neutralised the force projected from her tail and fell towards the citadel. Landing was a difficult, painful affair. Both her legs were broken, snapped in multiple places. Her tail was hardly any better off. It was covered in cuts and gashes; making contact with the ground came with a wince. She had to grit her teeth to stop herself from squealing. The damage was sourced almost entirely from the owl¡¯s talons. Its sand magic was rarely used as anything beyond distraction, a means for it to direct her attention away from its body so it could gouge her with its claws and beat her with its wings. Turning into a lamia did nothing to mitigate the pain. The shattered bones in her midsection ground themselves into her flesh every time she slithered; it hurt less to put her weight on her broken hooves. Grimacing the whole way, Claire slinked over to the nearest building and leaned against one of its half-broken walls.


    Like the frog and the eel, the owl had a number of annoying tricks up its sleeve. Its entire skillset revolved around the idea of mitigating damage. Every single one of her attacks was blocked by a wall of water-compacted sand or evaded with an unnatural aerial maneuver. On occasion, the monster would even disperse its body into a cloud of sand, only to reform a few seconds later, perfectly unharmed.


    It took a few minutes¡¯ worth of cat and mouse for her to realise that she could negate its defence by draining its mana, but the risk-averse barn pigeon retreated before she could make use of the revelation, an outcome even more frustrating than the tiresome battle itself.


    ¡°Next time, I¡¯ll break its legs,¡± she mumbled under her breath as she propped herself up against the wall.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it actually has legs. Actually maybe it does¡­ I¡¯m not really sure.¡± Sylvia¡¯s head popped out from above the half-collapsed roof. She stepped down from it a moment after, descending a staircase made of bubbles before finally jumping on top of Claire¡¯s head.


    The lyrkress winced at the impact. ¡°Don¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked. ¡°But I always jump on your head!¡±


    ¡°I mean not right now,¡± said Claire, through gritted teeth. ¡°Not when my legs are broken.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ right, sorry. Here, I¡¯ll make it up to you.¡± She hummed a quick tune and wrapped them both in an aura of light.


    The blueblood¡¯s wounds rapidly began to heal. The process wasn¡¯t anywhere near as quick as it was when she leveled up, but it was still impressive. She could see her bones mending. Her broken limbs snapped back into position as the holes in her flesh were filled. It took only a minute for all her wounds to vanish.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Claire magically yoinked the furball off her head and gave her a squeeze. Her body passed straight through the fox¡¯s protective bubble, but the rain running off of it was rejected.


    ¡°No problem!¡± chirped Sylvia. ¡°Are you feeling better?¡±


    ¡°For the most part.¡±


    There was a moment of silence.


    Sylvia had expected the lyrkress to continue the conversation, but Claire wasn¡¯t speaking. When the fox looked up, she found her part-pet part-owner with her jaws clenched and a hand on her forehead.


    ¡°Ummm¡­ You don¡¯t look better,¡± she said, with a confused blink. ¡°That¡¯s weird¡­ My spell should¡¯ve got everything. I boosted your vitality a lot.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± said Claire. ¡°Nothing hurts. I¡¯m just feeling¡­ off.¡±


    Sylvia tilted her head; it took a moment for the half-elf to put two and two together. ¡°Oh, right! You used your divinity again!¡±


    The lyrkress blinked. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! You don¡¯t have to hide every little thing,¡± said the fox, with a groan. ¡°I know you have it! I can sense it coming off you from a mile away.¡±


    The lyrkress flicked her tongue as she deliberated a response. Sylvia almost seemed too sure of herself for it to be a bluff, but she knew better than to think that the fox was as poor a liar as she made herself out to be. She had already proven that she could hide the things that really mattered. She hadn¡¯t divulged any of Alfred¡¯s secrets during their discussions, and more notably, she had managed to keep her intent to kill hidden, until she finally chose to reveal it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said the half-moose.


    ¡°Ughhhhh! You¡¯re being so difficult.¡± Sylvia tapped her paws against her mount¡¯s arms. ¡°I¡¯ve known you¡¯ve had it for a while now! You got it in the middle of the night when you were playing with the sea cows, and there was too much of it for you to handle so most of it got poofed. And then you played around with it in the morning. You used it against the frog too, and that¡¯s half the reason you were so out of it when I made you sleep.¡±


    ¡°Stalker.¡± Her tone was harsh and critical, but the hands running through the fox¡¯s fur remained gentle.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a stalker! It¡¯s my job!¡± whined the canid. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be responsible for keeping an eye on you.¡±


    ¡°Professional stalking is still stalking.¡±


    Sylvia sighed. ¡°There¡¯s just no winning with you, is there?¡±


    ¡°There is. You just need to beat me at rhetoric.¡±


    ¡°Somehow, I doubt that¡¯s gonna happen. You¡¯re just going to find some weird loophole in something I say.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. Rhetoric.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just you being mean.¡±


    A bubble that looked exactly like Sylvia¡¯s fairy form appeared right in front of Claire¡¯s face. The magical projection puffed up its cheeks, stamped its feet, and aggressively tensed up its tail. Though chuckling with amusement, the lyrkress decided to get rid of it with an idle tail swipe before it could open its mouth to speak.


    ¡°Hey! That was rude,¡± complained the fox, as she leaned into another scratch.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Sylvia gave Claire a bit of a pout, one that transformed into a miffed stare as she noticed the smirk on the other halfbreed¡¯s face. ¡°Hmph! Fine, be that way! See if I care.¡±


    Another silent lull followed, but unlike the first, it was far from awkward. Claire continued to pet the less-than-displeased fox, and she continued to enjoy the massage. The quiet moment continued until a particularly powerful gust of wind blew by, driving half a tree into the already-crumbling wall and collapsing another one of its parts.


    ¡°We should probably head back inside,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°I like it better out here.¡±


    While getting struck by the occasional lightning bolt was certainly painful and unpleasant, the lyrkress was unbothered by the wind and the rain. Unlike the fox, she was incapable of getting soaked. Not even her fluffy tail retained any of the moisture that flooded her surroundings, and the cool breeze was about as comforting as one experienced on a warm summer day. That, however, was not why she was unwilling to return. The problem was the temple. It was still filled with drunkards, and she didn¡¯t feel like being even remotely nearby.


    ¡°Yeah, but staying out here is like asking to get hit by something.¡±


    Claire shrugged as she got to her feet. ¡°It¡¯s just lightning.¡±


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    ¡°And trees! And rocks, and all sorts of other things too.¡±


    ¡°Hardly a problem.¡± The lyrkress grumbled as she began trekking towards the cathedral.


    The storm had lasted over a day without showing even the slightest hint of calming. Claire was no expert on meteorology, but even she could tell that an overcast sky with a chance of manatees did not a sunny day make. The winds were only growing more violent with time. The citadel¡¯s lurching had gotten more extreme and she was starting to feel as if her feet were going to get swept right out from under her. She had to stop every time the shaking got too violent, just to stop the hurricane from spiriting her away.


    ¡°Maybe we should go back to the marsh,¡± said the blueblood.


    ¡°That sounds like a pretty good idea,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I like the rain and all, but there¡¯s way too much of it here. I¡¯m gonna get soaked the moment I get rid of my bubble.¡±


    ¡°Did he say how long it would take? For him to finish my weapons.¡±


    ¡°Ummmm¡­ nope. And I don¡¯t think we can go back and ask either because he¡¯s totally out of it right now. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s getting up until tomorrow morning.¡±


    Claire hissed. ¡°What a waste of time.¡±


    ¡°Well, not really. We should probably go to bed anyway.¡±


    Sylvia looked up at the sky as she spoke. The fractured moon was invisible with all the clouds in the way, but her tail senses were telling her that it was already past its peak.


    ¡°I don¡¯t feel like it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s getting really late, and it¡¯s not like there¡¯s anything else to do. Not while it¡¯s pouring out.¡±


    ¡°The rain isn¡¯t going to stop me from killing things.¡± Claire lifted her right hand from Sylvia¡¯s fluff and balled it into a fist. ¡°And the eel wasn¡¯t worth as much as I hoped.¡±


    The accompanying party had turned the whole exercise into a test of patience, and hers had been pushed to the limit.


    ¡°Really? How many levels did it give you?¡±


    ¡°Eight. Mostly focused in my racial class.¡±


    ¡°Eight is pretty good!¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t worth a whole day. I would¡¯ve gained much more from hunting mirewulves.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s probably only because we walked around a bunch. It¡¯d be much faster if you went through the walls from the start and rushed straight at it.¡±


    Claire paused for a moment to consider the suggestion. She didn¡¯t have a map to cross reference anymore, but not even relying on Shoulderhorse would provide a straight line to her final destination. She still had to work around the various chest rooms, but even then, she was confident she could make three or four kills a day. Unless she was dragging around deadweight, of course.


    ¡°Or if those three didn¡¯t come with us.¡±


    ¡°Look on the bright side! At least you¡¯re getting some weapons out of it. So it should be worth it, right?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡± Claire shrugged. ¡°Is the lord any different from any of the other monsters?¡±


    ¡°Of course it is! It¡¯s a lord, which means it¡¯s totally souped up and awesome. You should know that, you literally just fought it!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant,¡± said the lyrkress, with a roll of the eyes. ¡°Does it come back to life when we go back in?¡±


    ¡°Oh! Well um, not exactly, but also kinda?¡± Sylvia flicked her tail from left to right. ¡°It doesn¡¯t actually come back to life, but it¡¯ll be replaced with another lord. The new lord is supposed to be the same type of monster, but it probably won¡¯t do all the same things.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    Placing Sylvia back on top of her head, the lyrkress crossed her arms and closed her eyes. The lack of vision didn¡¯t throw her off course. The distinct echoing of her hooves guided her along the stone-paved path as she sank deeper into her thoughts.


    If the eel could be killed repeatedly, then all she needed to do was murder it until it stopped giving her experience. It seemed like a fairly effective plan, but even then, the lyrkress was unsure if she wanted to remain in Sky Lagoon. The giant, snake-shaped fish had been the only monster in Crabby Crags worth killing. None of the crabs¡¯ deaths had aided her much in her growth.


    ¡°Why do they have to be so loud?¡± grumbling under her breath, the blueblood stopped right in front of the cathedral, a few steps away from its door. The drunks were roaring with such volume that she could hear them over the hurricane; its howling winds were unable to match their overbearing shouts and screams.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be such a grouch,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°They¡¯re having a good time!¡±


    ¡°At my expense,¡± mumbled the lyrkress.


    ¡°It¡¯s not even that bad! You slept right through it earlier.¡±


    With a shrug, the blueblood assumed her lamian form and pulled her cloak over her head. Her ears felt a little stuffy under the hood, so she modified the garment and gave it a set of earholes before rapping her knuckles against the door. No voices came from the other side, but the entrance was opened immediately. The guard, a grumpy-looking heavyset dwarf, gave her a quick glance before acknowledging her with a grunt and pointing his chin towards the interior.


    Thanking him with a nod, she walked through the makeshift tavern and made for the attic. The bar began to change as she moved; a wave of silence swept through it like a storm, with the loudmouthed drunks quieting each other down. Shouts turned to whispers and screams turned to murmurs as fingers were pointed in her direction. Try as they might, they were unable to keep their discussions under wraps. Before her ears, the silenced voices remained clear as day.


    ¡°You think that might be who Carter saw?¡±


    ¡°It ain¡¯t much of a match. That one¡¯s got no legs.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but she¡¯s got the ears, the glow, and the colour too.¡±


    She could feel her blood run cold as her face nearly paled. She knew she was the type to attract attention, but not all the attention in the world. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire? What¡¯s going on?¡± whispered Sylvia.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Be quiet.¡±


    Though a quick scan only told her so much, she concluded that the stares were more curious and amazed than they were malicious. They seemed to hold great interest in her for reasons she could only guess.


    ¡°He said she had legs.¡±


    ¡°Ask her if she knows him.¡±


    ¡°Hell no, you ask. I ain¡¯t even one of you crazy ear zealots.¡±


    All the eyes in the room were focused on the organs protruding from her hood. For once, they were in plain sight; she had forgotten Beckard¡¯s advice.


    Hissing internally, she racked her brain for a solution. Her first instinct was to tuck her ears back inside her hood and patch the holes, but it was far too late for that. She had already grabbed a whole cathedral¡¯s worth of attention, and proving that she had something to hide would only serve to further their interest.


    ¡°Where the hell is Carter? Get his ass over here and have him confirm.¡±


    ¡°Over here! Bastard¡¯s passed out!¡± An older elven man slapped the centaur on the back, but he showed no signs of stirring.


    ¡°Well wake him!¡±


    Speaking up would be even worse. She didn¡¯t know why they were so focused on her, but she doubted that it was anything good. She needed to leave, as quickly as possible. Knowing that was what guided her response; the lyrkress chose to ignore the masses and continue her advance. She feigned a complete lack of concern and slithered down the aisle at a leisurely, dignified pace, as if it were only natural for their eyes to follow her every step. Just as she did when the other ladies had tried to spread rumours about her in her presence.


    ¡°What the heck was that?¡± Sylvia began to speak as soon as Claire made it past a door. ¡°Everyone was staring at you like you were some sort of weirdo! Did you do something again?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± replied the larger halfbreed. ¡°Beckard mentioned some rumours. It probably has to do with them.¡±


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­¡± Sylvia brought a paw to her chin. ¡°Oh well, it doesn¡¯t look like any of them are following us, so there¡¯s that at least, right?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to change my outfit tomorrow,¡± muttered the snake moose, ¡°and I¡¯ll need to sneak out. Maybe through one of the windows.¡±


    After casting a gaze over her shoulder, she pulled her ears back into her cloak and ascended the stairs. There were still a number of issues at hand. Her supposed solution had failed to address the problem, let alone solve it, but at the very least, she was confident that she had minimized the damage dealt. She needed to think of a way around her recognition, but she simply wasn¡¯t in the mood to sit down and ponder. The task would have to wait for another day.


    ___


    Claire


    Health: 5490/5490


    Mana: 7026/11735


    Divinity: 4/5


    Health Regen:1785/hour (3570/hour)


    Mana Regen: 9369/hour


    Divinity Regen: 5/hour


    Ability Scores - 369 Points Available


    - Agility: 589


    - Dexterity: 555


    - Spirit: 471


    - Strength: 872


    - Vitality: 595


    - Wisdom: 1041


    Racial Class: Frostblight Lyrkress - Level 87.10


    - Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts - Level 21.44


    - Frostblight Lyrkrian Shapeshifting - Level 17.40


    - Paralyzing Gaze - Level 13.12


    - Thermodynamic Regulation - Level 10.20


    - True Ice Manipulation - Level 15.92


    Primary Class: Llystletein Bloodthief - Level 85.65


    - Assassinate - Level 18.39


    - Bloodthief - Level 20.91


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 10.17


    - Envenom - Level 19.68


    - Manathief - Level 17.86


    - Phantom Blade - Level 19.39


    Secondary Class: Llystletein Vector Mage - Level 83.40


    - Basic Force Resistance - Level 12.67


    - Catgirl Detector V. 0.34 - Level 11.02


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 19.65


    - Spirit Sorcery - Level 29.21


    - Vector Manipulation - Level 32.45


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 4.00


    - Axe Mastery - Level 11.13


    - Club Mastery - Level 17.50


    - Cooking - Level 1.03


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 14.76


    - Dancing - Level 8.27


    - Digging - Level 13.76


    - English - Level 25


    - Greatsword Mastery - Level 10.91


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 8.13


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 24.62


    - Marish - Level 19.09


    - Sewing - Level 1.43


    - Sneaking - Level 18.73


    - Spear Mastery - Level 10.65


    - Sword Mastery - Level 10.33


    - Throwing - Level 11.01


    - Whip Mastery - Level 1.76

 Chapter 115 - The One-Legged Kraken II

    Chapter 115 - The One-Legged Kraken II


    Claire awoke to a series of loud bangs. Someone familiar was calling her name whilst violently bashing their fist against the door of her temporary bedroom, but she couldn¡¯t quite pin the voice to a name. Groggily, she sat up from her stiff, dysfunctional bed and lazily moved her eyes to the source of the commotion.


    Sylvia happened to enter her line of sight as she shifted her gaze. The fox was still sound asleep, her body curled up within one of the countless floating bubbles scattered throughout the tiny living space. The spherical bed didn¡¯t exactly look comfortable, given the indent at its center, but it seemed to make up for it by keeping any unwanted variables at bay. Case in point, the rude visitor. A ripple formed in the barrier¡¯s surface each time the uninvited guest attacked the door, but none of the sound ever seemed to make it through.


    ¡°Claire! Open the door right this instant!¡± The high pitched, hysterical shriek was followed by another series of bangs. ¡°Claire!¡±


    Creasing her brow with a hiss, the lyrkress created a flat piece of ice and took a moment to stare at her reflection. She wasn¡¯t exactly in the most presentable state. Her hair was a mess, there were still bags under her eyes, and her nightgown was half see-through. Yawning, the unperturbed halfbreed wobbled around and fixed the issues in the order she noticed them; she combed her fingers through her hair, washed her face with a stream of stale water, and transformed her negligee into a thick cloak. Only after checking again and subsequently turning into a lamia, did she finally reach for the door¡¯s handle.


    When she opened it, she found Lova standing on the other side. The moth¡¯s eyes were warped into a teary glare, her cheeks were stained with visible streaks of liquid, and her jaws were clenched. There was clearly a problem, but Claire was unfazed as ever.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you ¡®what¡¯ me! How dare you! How dare you steal him from me! You two-faced harlot!¡±


    The lykress could do nothing but tilt her head as the weaver balled all four of her hands into fists and trembled with rage. Even the bug girl¡¯s antennae served to express her displeasure. They were curled all the way up, just as they would have been in the midst of combat.


    ¡°Steal what now?¡±


    ¡°Carter!¡± screeched the moth. ¡°You stole Carter!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± For once, the statement was relatively genuine. It took her a moment to process the insect¡¯s claim, but even then, she only barely got it. The entire scenario would have gone right over her head had she not a number of prior experiences. ¡°I¡¯m going back to sleep. Good night.¡± Knowing that the entire conversation was more trouble than it was worth, Claire moved to close the door, but the Kryddarian was one step ahead of her. Lova jammed her arm through the entrance before the half-lamia could slam it shut.


    ¡°Claire¡­ please.¡± The spellweaver¡¯s voice trembled as her anger was usurped. ¡°He¡¯s the only man I¡¯ve ever loved. Please don¡¯t take him from me.¡± Tears streamed down her face as she broke into an outright sob.


    It¡¯s far too early for this. All of this. The lyrkress heaved a tired sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t want him. Never did. Never will. Now leave me alone.¡±


    ¡°Then why did you take him!?¡± screeched the moth.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yes you did! He¡¯s been obsessed with some girl with ears for the past few days, and I¡¯ve finally figured it out! It was you this whole time!¡±


    That pudgy weirdo is obsessed with me? Great¡­


    ¡°You have the wrong person,¡± said Claire. I thought she saw my ears already. Maybe she just doesn¡¯t understand how pretty they are.


    ¡°That can¡¯t be right! Dozens of people saw you last night, Claire! And they all agreed that you looked just like the person he was describing!¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t matter, even if it was me. I don¡¯t want him. You can have him.¡±


    Lova sniffled as she slowly raised her gaze to meet the halfbreed¡¯s. ¡°It¡¯s too late for that.¡± Her eyes were empty, soulless even. ¡°You already charmed him. Give him back.¡± The moth grabbed the lamia by the shoulders and shook her back and forth. ¡°Give him back! Make it so he isn¡¯t obsessed with you anymore!¡±


    Heaving another sigh, Claire pushed the other girl out of her face with her tail and gave her an annoyed glare. ¡°And how am I supposed to do that?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know! Just do it!¡± screeched Lova.


    The bluescale was tempted to eject the insect with a force push and shut the door, but she refrained. Though too desensitized to be disturbed per se, she didn¡¯t exactly like the idea of being stalked by the plainsrunner. He wasn¡¯t as disgusting as the old lechers that worked in and around the other noble houses, but she still found his passion unpleasant. If Lova was volunteering to take the role off her hands, then she saw no reason to dismiss her outright.


    ¡°I would. If I knew how.¡±


    ¡°Reject him! Reject him so I can heal his wounded heart!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not have to speak with him. Ever.¡±


    ¡°And why not?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a fat creep.¡±


    Lova¡¯s expression rapidly shifted between confusion, anger, and relief before finally settling on a glare that mixed all but the latter. ¡°He¡¯s a wonderful gentleman,¡± she said, in haughty denial. ¡°He does seem a little misguided at times, but he¡¯s incredibly kind, even to his enemies. It¡¯s something that you won¡¯t understand until you speak to him.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°I thought you were trying to keep me away from him, not sell him to me.¡±


    ¡°I am trying to keep you away from him, but that doesn¡¯t mean that I¡¯ll allow you to sully his honour, even if it means that you start to see his charms.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t. He¡¯s too much of a creep.¡±


    ¡°He is not a creep!¡± Another glare was fired in the lyrkress¡¯ direction. ¡°He is a gentleman,¡± she repeated, with a brief pause following each word.


    ¡°I¡¯m not having this conversation with a literal insect,¡± grumbled Claire. She tried to shut the door again, but it was blocked by the moth girl¡¯s face.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Just admit it, Claire! He¡¯s the most handsome centaur you¡¯ve ever seen!¡±


    The lykress paused for a moment to see if she could recall an uglier mug among the knights, but none came to mind. Even the most scarred face was more appealing than the blubbery plainsrunner. ¡°He¡¯s hideous. If he was Kryddarian, he would be hairless.¡±


    ¡°Please stop trying to provoke me,¡± said Lova, with a miffed glare. ¡°I know you¡¯re just saying that because you know it¡¯ll rile me up.¡± She took a deep breath before continuing with her voice calmer and more mellow. ¡°If you really aren¡¯t interested in him, could you please help me? I haven¡¯t been able to get his attention, and I¡¯ve tried nearly everything.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Claire pulled on the door¡¯s handle and gave the Kryddarian¡¯s face a squeeze.


    ¡°Can you at least talk to him to prove that you¡¯re not some sort of mysterious goddess? I¡¯m sure he¡¯d find himself disillusioned if he was ever exposed to your personality.¡±


    So that¡¯s where¡­ The bloodthief narrowed her eyes. ¡°My personality? And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°W-well, I¡¯ve just heard him say that he¡¯s more attracted to fair, delicate maidens¡­¡± Lova clasped her four hands together and fiddled around with her fingers. Her face was decorated with a light blush, just faint enough to be made out. ¡°And he¡¯s always seemed rather interested in ladies of a higher social status. I used to be a countess, so I thought¡­¡±


    ¡°I am a fair maiden,¡± said Claire, as she subjected the moth¡¯s head to a slight increase in pressure.


    ¡°Fair maidens do not resort to violence at the slightest provocation! And when they do, it¡¯s never physical!¡± The weaver pushed her hands against the door and tried to pry it open, to no avail.


    ¡°By Kryddarian standards maybe,¡± said the halfbreed. ¡°By Cadrian standards, it¡¯s more important not to shriek, even when you¡¯re in pain.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a Kryddarian, I don¡¯t go by Cadrian standards,¡± said the moth.


    ¡°But he does.¡±


    There was a moment of silence as the lyrkress fought the urge to simultaneously pinch the bridge of her nose and kick the overgrown caterpillar out the doorway. She was ignorant, far more so than even Cadrian traditionalists. At the very least, they understood that different tribes had different values, despite caring little therefor. That understanding was the only reason that the cottontails, thorae, and centaurs were no longer at each others¡¯ throats, the only reason they had been able to unite the three groups under a single banner, some five thousand years ago.


    ¡°Do you understand the problem now?¡±


    Slowly, Lova nodded.


    ¡°Good. Now go away and leave me alone.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait! Please wait!¡± Pushing forward again, the moth finally managed to get half her body through the door. ¡°I would really appreciate it if you could teach me a little more about Cadrian courtship.¡±


    ¡°No. I¡¯m busy. And I don¡¯t know anything about it anyway.¡±


    Cast through the right lens, the statement was more of a half truth than an outright lie. Claire knew how the nobility went about arranging matches. She had been educated on the related subjects when she was younger, but none of her tutors had ever told her anything about how it was handled amongst the common folk. While many other noble ladies had a relatively unreasonable amount of reading on the matter, Claire had always preferred horsing around the manor to subjecting herself to the salacious affairs of fictional characters.


    That wasn¡¯t to say that she was completely disinterested in romance. She had participated in many a related discussion with other girls her age; discussing the love lives of others was commonplace, especially given the lack of war that came with the eleven horned king¡¯s most recent policies. The issue lay instead with an awareness of her circumstances. She couldn¡¯t relate and she simply didn¡¯t see the point in trying, not when her father saw her hand as nothing but another weapon in his arsenal.


    ¡°That can¡¯t be right,¡± said Lova.


    ¡°Well it is.¡±


    Claire released the door handle and stretched her back as she brought a hand to her mouth. But not because she was willing to indulge the moth in a conversation. The yawn welling up inside her was simply too powerful to resist. Despite the momentary lapse of strength, the moth was unable to make it any further into the room. The lyrkress kept the tip of her tail pressed against the older lady¡¯s forehead and held her where she was.


    ¡°Ask a centaur if you want to learn about Cadria. I¡¯m not a centaur.¡±


    Backing off just a bit, Lova pursed her lips into a frown. ¡°You¡¯re not?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a lyrkress. I introduced myself to you as such.¡±


    ¡°But I saw you transform into something like a centaur yesterday night, and everyone that¡¯s seen your ears is saying that they¡¯re either weird cottontail ears or exaggerated centaur ears.¡±


    ¡°That means nothing. I¡¯m a lyrkress.¡± Claire pointed at the shard in her chest. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have this if I was a centaur or a cottontail.¡±


    The glimmering spike was one of the things that Claire didn¡¯t hide; she liked how it looked and all her outfits left it completely exposed. Not even her armour would shroud it. There was no point. It was much tougher than stone or metal, and it could even be used as a weapon if its tip was left exposed. By all means, it should have been something that the moth girl had long noted. Still, she took the opportunity to lean forwards and carefully observe it nonetheless.


    ¡°Please excuse my ignorance,¡± said the moth, ¡°but what exactly is that? I¡¯ve never heard of, let alone met any lyrkresses before.¡±


    ¡°A natural catalyst.¡± The half-moose moved its tip up and down before retracting it and crossing her arms. ¡°See? I¡¯m not a centaur.¡±


    Lova¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Oh, how embarrassing of me. I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to offend. It¡¯s just¡­ everyone else was talking about all the similarities, so I assumed¡­¡±


    ¡°Because they don¡¯t know that I¡¯m a lyrkress. Now go ask someone else. I saw several centaurs in the cathedral. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be able to answer your questions.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go do just that. Thank you, Claire, I know you were reluctant, but you were very helpful.¡± The moth flapped each wing seven times in quick succession to express her thanks. ¡°And I¡¯m very sorry I called you a harlot. I¡¯m not sure what came over me.¡±


    The not-centaur rolled her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t care. Just leave me alone and let me sleep.¡±


    With one last ¡°thank you,¡° Lova stepped back out the door and closed it behind her. Technically, she had left the lyrkress alone, but she continued to disrupt her rest by cheering and bouncing around the other side of the door. ¡°She¡¯s not interested! She said she¡¯s not interested! You¡¯re still in the running Lova, don¡¯t give up!¡±


    ¡°Why can¡¯t she do that somewhere else?¡±


    The blueblood grumbled under her breath as she turned her eyes on the floating fox, who was somehow still sound asleep. Seeing the bubble¡¯s pristine state led her to grit her teeth. She coated the tip of her tail with a spear of ice, slithered over, and poised to strike at the magical orb. But that was as far as she got. Turning back into a humanoid, she removed her tail and called off the attack. There was no reason to make Sylvia share her pain.


    It was all the moth¡¯s fault; she was the one that would have to pay.


    A small smile crossed Claire¡¯s lips as a thousand petty schemes raced through her mind. Settling on one immediately was difficult, in part because there were so many different options, and in part because the commotion just outside her room made it impossible to focus.


    Looking at her canine companion provided just the inspiration she needed to solve the second problem. Claire crafted a pair of ice blocks around the base of her ears and sealed off the outside world as she changed her clothes and lay back down. Much to her annoyance, the earplugs were even more temporary than she had thought they¡¯d be. They began melting away as soon as she tucked herself beneath the less-than-silky covers. Their efficacy plummeted dramatically as their temperature rose; the drunks¡¯ voices soon returned to leaking through the walls and into her mind.


    Sighing, she took the solution one step further and turned herself into a portable ice box. The air around her turned white as the tiny bits of moisture floating around within it froze and turned into tiny icy crystals. Her earplugs were fixed, turned right back to ice. But that was not all her aura affected. The fox-free bubbles floating around the room were also frozen solid.


    They began plummeting from their positions and crashing into the furniture as they iced over. One particular sharp ice ball happened to land right on top of the bed¡¯s headboard and left a large scratch as it rolled down its length.


    ¡°Oops.¡±


    Though it was clearly her fault, Claire was far too annoyed to give it a second thought. She plopped her head into the pillow, closed her eyes, and went right back to sleep.

 Chapter 116 - The One-Legged Kraken III

    Chapter 116 - The One-Legged Kraken III


    A small groan escaped Claire¡¯s lips as she floundered about in bed. Going back to sleep was difficult, even with her ears plugged and her eyes shut. The problem was a surplus of lucidity. The conversation she held with the moth had pulled her consciousness straight to the forefront.


    ¡°Stupid Kryddarian.¡±


    The worst part was that she was still tired. Her body felt heavy and her mind lethargic; every single idea that surfaced was dismissed with the notion that it would be far too much effort and not worth her immediate attention. But as much as she wanted to stay under the covers and uncomfortably laze the hours away, she knew better than to continue wasting her time.


    The clock was ticking and the frog was still her better. Her quest would never be completed if she continued to dally, but it was still far too early in the morning for her to be out and about. Looking out the window, she confirmed that the moon had yet to set and that its replacement was nowhere near the horizon. She had slept for a few hours at most, maybe even less. She had no idea when exactly she had retired.


    Only after idly staring at the giant glowing circle did she realise that the hurricane had abated. There were still a few clouds floating around off in the distance, but none of them were dark enough to preface a storm. And yet, the manatee remained. Its blubbery shadow flitted through the sky, occasionally crossing the moon as it chased down flocks of birds, just to pat them with its flippers.


    The ridiculous sight only served to fuel her decision. Like the submersible eggplant, she was an anomaly. If she stayed, then there would only be further sightings, and the more she was seen, the more she would be discussed. She had to leave.


    Though the thought of being driven out wasn¡¯t exactly pleasant, she didn¡¯t think much of it. She had never felt like a part of the citadel, and it wasn¡¯t like she was losing out on any benefits or opportunities. She could always pick up her weapons at a later date or even send Sylvia to fetch them in her stead. The storm was the only reason she had taken up residence in the settlement to begin with, and now that it was gone, so too was her reason to remain. She was just as safe and secure by the beach or atop a different floating island, both of which were options greatly preferred to the cramped interior space. Environmental risk was a nonfactor. Her authority skill¡¯s safe zone had already finished cooling down.


    ¡°I need to go see the goblin.¡±


    She whispered to herself as she cast her gaze on the sleeping fox. She didn¡¯t want to wake her, but Sylvia was likely to resent her if she left without letting her know.


    ¡°She can find me. It would hardly cause her any trouble.¡±


    Though her words seemed to suggest that she was already on the cusp of a decision, the lyrkress didn¡¯t immediately leap out the window. She raised her arms instead and gently stretched her hands towards the bubble. She was expecting to touch the fox¡¯s fur, but her limbs failed to pass through the watery membrane. Ripples formed where she touched it, but it refused to yield or conform. Her hands were being deflected, just like the pesky moth¡¯s voice.


    Smiling softly, she raised the bubble to eye level and took a long look at the four-legged furball. Something inside her stirred as she stared, a mischievous flash of inspiration. She felt the urge to pluck the fox out of her protective shell and harass her in some way or another. Tickling her or pulling her cheeks were the two options that immediately came to mind, but neither was possible. The barrier was too potent, for better or for worse.


    I guess I¡¯m leaving her.


    With one choice eliminated by way of circumstance, Claire defaulted to the other and began climbing out the window. After squeezing about half her body through, she froze in place and brought a hand to her face whilst dangling from the wooden opening. Only after kneading her brow and pinching her nose did she finally reach behind her and magically seize the floating bubble.


    There was nothing stopping her from simply bringing the fox along. Holding Sylvia by the bubble, she took on her lamian form and slithered down the side of the building, avoiding any windows in her path. Though they weren¡¯t made of glass, she saw no reason to run the risk of exposure.


    Remaining unseen whilst on the ground was as easy as heading for an alley and avoiding the main street. The backstreets only took a little longer to navigate; she reached the goblin¡¯s forge in just a few minutes


    The lack of a constant banging appeared to imply that the smith was either asleep or working on something unrelated, neither of which was a particularly good sign. There was always the possibility that both items were already completed, but she doubted it.


    Peeking through the window confirmed her suspicions. The raw materials had barely seen any processing. The meat had been removed, but everything else was still exactly as she left it. She knew little about the amount of time and effort required for a skilled smith to work his magic, or whether the goblin really was as exemplary as he claimed in the first place, but whatever the case, the outcome was clear. She was going to have to wait.


    In the meantime, she was more or less free to do as she pleased¡ªa problem in its own right. The lyrkress knew what she wanted to do; she had every intention of leaving the citadel, hunting monsters, and overtaking the frog, but she had no idea what she was meant to kill. Zelos¡¯ instruction had only extended as far as the mirewulves. The bizarre tree monsters were worth a fair amount of experience, but she didn¡¯t think that she was capable of finding them without Sylvia¡¯s help. She needed another option.


    Crabby Crags came to mind, but only as a last resort. Its boss was the only thing worth hunting, and it was buried far too deep within the labyrinth. It wasn¡¯t the worst use of her time as far as efficiency was concerned, but she didn¡¯t want to go through the trouble of repeating the mind-numbing trek until the lord lost its value.


    If killing lords provided the most experience, then the most natural conclusion was to seek one that was more easily accessible, but a lack of information stopped her in her tracks. Frankly, she had no idea where most of them were. The only one she could pinpoint was the oversized lava whale, and climbing Borrok Peak was an even greater hassle than carving her way through the maze.


    Chasing down the owl seemed like another obvious choice, but tracking¡ªcatgirl detector¡ªwas failing to do its job. The skill itself wasn¡¯t the problem. It was still functional and using it allowed her to determine that the goblin was somewhere on the second floor, but the chain lord continued to elude her nonetheless. She was never able to latch onto its trail, despite checking once every few minutes.


    The rest remained as unknowns. She recalled that the lord of the chasm was apparently somewhere in Sky Lagoon, but she had no idea where to find it. All Sylvia had really told her was that it was a fish. Not the most helpful comment, given that there was a whole ocean full of them directly underfoot.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Claire heaved a small sigh as she cast a second glance over her options. Crabby crags was technically the best choice, but Sylvia was likely to wake before she finished ploughing through all the walls and she didn¡¯t want to commit to the hassle.


    Shelving the deliberation, she retreated from Frederick¡¯s forge and made for the island¡¯s closest edge. For a while, she did little but stare, at the other floating islands, at the sparkling sea, and even back at the citadel.


    Everything was perfectly intact. There wasn¡¯t a single broken tree in sight, even though many had been ripped to pieces by the storm. The building she was hidden behind featured a number of loose bricks, bricks that surely would have been blown away by anything more powerful than a light gust. The discrepancy was justified only by virtue of the location. In a dungeon, there was a set way that everything was meant to be; the realm was sure to revert to its default state if left undisturbed. Or at least that was what she had heard from a traveling bard. She had no idea of the claim¡¯s legitimacy, in part because her memory was hazy, and in part because it came from someone that had likely never set foot in a dungeon. The wandering lizardman that was her father¡¯s favourite entertainer had a reputation for being something of a comic; no one knew if or when he was ever meant to be taken seriously.


    After sitting along the edge and taking a few moments to feel the breeze against her tail, the snake-horse decided on her course of action. She would spend the morning exploring the rest of Sky Lagoon. There were still a number of monsters left unslain, with their first kill bonuses ready and waiting to be claimed.


    ¡°Sylvia should be up by the time I¡¯m done, but if she isn¡¯t¡­¡± Claire turned her eyes on the only floating island left unvisited. It was nothing but a mess of stone, a perch for the avians polluting the skies. The violet fog that shrouded its valleys was ominous, but not intimidating enough to dissuade an exploration.


    Running around the savannah wasn¡¯t exactly the best use of her time, but there was only so much she could do with a change of plans on the horizon; no matter what course of action she decided on, she would surely find herself pursuing another the moment the fox awoke from her slumber.


    Stupid useless fox. Pulling the vixen¡¯s bubble into an embrace, she returned to her lyrkrian form and leapt off the edge. Her hair fluttered as the air rushed by her cheeks and pushed her ears back against the side of her head. A small smile on her lips, she closed her eyes and basked in the sensation, the feeling of being one with the sky. By now, it had become a familiar experience, but one she could get lost in nonetheless.


    When she opened her eyes again, she was surprised to find not an impending beach, but rather a large brown blob with a pair of beady eyes and a peculiar cross-shaped scar. The supposedly delicious sea creature cooed at her and tapped its belly with its flippers before flying off.


    It was a challenge, and she wasn¡¯t about to be beaten, not by a piece of blubber that had just acquired its very non-literal wings.


    ***


    Zelos Redleaf glanced around his wife¡¯s bedroom-cum-dungeon as he rose from his slumber. Unlike most other members of the Redleaf tribe, he had no trouble waking immediately, with the fog clearing from his mind as soon as he opened his eyes.


    Moving carefully and quietly, he slipped out of bed, readjusted the covers to keep Dixie warm, and stepped out into the hall. The chain around his ankle would have rattled had he attempted the same thing the previous morning, but his wife had been satisfied enough to remove it. They both knew that he had important business to attend to, and remaining forever in Darkwood Hollow would run the risk of its discovery.


    Not bothering to eat, he grabbed one of the three bags he had brought from the citadel, holstered his trusty cursed blade, and set out. He nodded at all the foxes he passed on his way out of the hollow, but only a few returned his greeting. Some had explicitly refrained from responding out of spite, but most were simply too busy chasing monarchs in their dreams. It was still too early in the morning for the lazy fairies to be out and about, and those that were had the tendency to be in a rather foul mood. Even his daughter, who rarely ever woke up before dawn, was considered an early riser by Llystletein fox standards. It was a stark contrast from the reception she would have gotten from her peers, had she been a pureblooded Greenwood elf. Though, she certainly did fit in with the Redleafs.


    Blowing through the woodland like a gale, he sprinted past several different environments and arrived at his destination in just five minutes. The exercise almost left him short of breath, so he hummed a quick hymn, enveloped his body in a pale green light, and undid his exhaustion. The very same technique he had taught his daughter.


    He took a moment to straighten out his elven tunic before approaching the ancient tower and giving its front door a knock. It opened after a brief delay, revealing a tall, muscular man with an enviably beautiful moustache and a four-legged face.


    The artificer stared at him for a moment, mechanical eyes glimmering beneath the moonlight. ¡°Zelos?¡±


    ¡°Good morning to you too, Archie,¡± he said, with an awkward smile. ¡°Didn¡¯t mean to disturb you, but I thought it was about time for you to be up.¡±


    ¡°Not the worst assumption I¡¯ve heard, especially not coming from you. You¡¯re free to enter, but mind your feet. I¡¯m in the middle of tinkering with a few of the gates.¡± Archibald stepped out of the doorway and welcomed the other man inside. ¡°And I will strangle you if you step on them.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Archie. You know I won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Like hell you won¡¯t.¡± The huskar scoffed. ¡°Last time you were here, you stepped on my eyes. Do you know how hard it¡¯s been to work with these awful replacements? I can barely recognize people, let alone get any work done.¡±


    The boy-sized elf laughed awkwardly as he very carefully made his way to the table. ¡°That was the only accident we¡¯ve had in the last ten years. Unless you count the time where I accidentally switched your food and waste tank¡ª¡± He clamped his mouth shut and tried to cut himself off, but it was too late. The words had already made their way across the room.


    ¡°You still owe me for that.¡± The dog growled through his mechanical voice box. ¡°I swear to Altea, every damned mistake you make always comes at my expense.¡±


    ¡°I know, Archie. I¡¯m sorry, you know I am,¡± said the high elf with a frown. ¡°I¡¯m here to make it up to you. I¡¯ve finally finished your new sightstones.¡±


    Zelos reached into his bag and produced a pair of spherical crystals, each inscribed with hundreds of runes, arranged in a series of tiny, intricate magic circles with a maximum diameter no greater than that of his pinky. Though part of the same set, their colours differed, and not for stylistic purposes. The left eye was carved into obsidian, an ore known for being both relatively inert and incredibly durable. So long as no one crushed it underfoot, the stone would serve as the huskar¡¯s daily driver. The right eye was carved instead into a piece of rose quartz, a magically conductive material that would allow him to magnify his vision and perform the delicate operations he needed to craft his artifacts. The pink stone was more brittle and would degrade with continued use, but it was the best to be found within Llystletein¡¯s walls.


    ¡°Oh, so you¡¯ve finally finished them? I¡¯m glad it only took you three whole months,¡± said the dog, with a sarcastic bark.


    The elf frowned. ¡°It¡¯s hard to get decent materials around here, and leveling rune mage is hard without them.¡±


    ¡°I know¡­ I know. Sorry, I shouldn¡¯t have lashed out.¡± The dog slowly shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ve been on edge ever since my home was raided the other week.¡±


    Archibald reached across the table and took both magical eyes from his longtime friend. His face opened up mechanically as he brought the crystals near. Two cruder-looking orbs were ejected and subsequently replaced with the elf¡¯s gifts.


    ¡°Thank you, Zelos.¡± he said, as his body closed itself back up. He took a moment to slowly look around the room, the lenses embedded within his face readjusting once every second on the dot. ¡°Much better! Fine work as always.¡±


    ¡°Not a problem. I owed it to you.¡±


    ¡°You bet your ass you did.¡± the huskar chuckled as he noted the large sack that the elf had over his shoulder. ¡°Is that what I think it is?¡±


    The elf nodded as he produced a device from one of his pockets and used it to cut them off from the celestial¡¯s surveillance network.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost complete. Beck, Fred, and I have all done our parts.¡± His voice was solemn, carrying with it the weight of responsibility. ¡°All we need is for you to work your magic.¡±

 Chapter 117 - The One-Legged Kraken IV

    Chapter 117 - The One-Legged Kraken IV


    Turning the corner and boosting her speed, Claire began lap three of five right as the sun rose above the horizon. Her competitor, the sea cow, trailed a few dozen meters behind but remained in the lead nonetheless. She didn¡¯t understand why or how, but the ocean dweller was almost a full lap ahead. Even though she was thrice its speed in the water.


    Though not the sole cause, her lack of commitment had compounded the not-bovine¡¯s lead. Rather than focusing solely on the race, the half-horse had dropped out from time to time to squash the occasional monster. Literally, in most cases. Landing on top of them proved rather effective; her hooves were tougher than their spines, and a good hit would guarantee a quick, easy kill.


    The savannah was massive, but its wildlife was lacking in variety. There were only a few species wandering the plains, totalling to something in the realm of a dozen. They appeared more varied when they were gathered beneath their cervidian overlords, but only because they were unable to escape the fruit-bearing deer. Each ruler had a full collection of every monster that lived atop the island. If evolutions and ascensions were taken into consideration, the species count ballooned, but only slightly. She had spotted a grand total of twenty nine different kinds, none of which had given a bonus in excess of a measly two points.


    As much as she wanted to use her pit stops as excuses, the lyrkress was aware that they were inconsequential. Unlike the manatee, she was still incapable of true flight. She had to land at least once a minute, and rarely ever did squishing something on her way down lead to a significant delay. Blaming the less-than-functional trampolines wasn¡¯t an option in a race that wasn¡¯t neck and neck.


    To her dismay, the roast beef sandwich was well aware that it was an excellent flier. It would occasionally pull ahead of her and slow down, just long enough to pat her on the back before speeding up and darting out of her reach. It pranced through the sky in a manner that reminded her of a middle-aged ballet instructor. Up and down, it spirited itself across the dance floor with elegance and grace. Even though it was clearly in need of a diet.


    Despite the difference in lap count, the lyrkress continued pushing forward at top speed. Dropping out of the race wasn¡¯t an option. She couldn¡¯t admit defeat, at least not to the obnoxious barking eggplant. Alas, it made no difference. The blubbery mass burst ahead of her for the twentieth time and finished its fifth lap right before she completed her fourth.


    Slapping its stomach, the sea cow dropped out of the air and landed right next to Sylvia¡¯s bubble, the marker that denoted the start and end of the race. It flubbed around on the other side of the line, barking and cheering as it rolled around in the grass.


    Claire landed next to it with an unsatisfied hiss. Her arms were crossed and her eyes were narrowed into a glare. Seeing the hostile look, the marine mammal reacted with a start and shrank away. It gulped as it slowly met her gaze and gave her its best puppy dog stare, a futile appeal that ended with the sea creature in tears.


    Only with her supremacy re-established did the lyrkress do away with the act. She allowed her scowl to fade in favour of a playful, pride-stoked grin, the very same one she had used to tease the moth.


    ¡°Claaaaiiire!¡± A tired groan came from the finish line as its milestone began to stir. ¡°I thought I told you¡­¡± The statement was interrupted by a long, drawn-out yawn. ¡°Stop bullying the sea cows!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not bullying it. We¡¯re just having fun.¡±


    Ignoring the fox¡¯s skeptical gaze, Claire walked over to the lard pile and patted it on the back with her tail. It was unperturbed by her approach. The mentally deficient sea creature even returned the gesture with one of its flippers.


    ¡°See? We¡¯re friends.¡±


    Sylvia gave her another look before slowly shaking her head and stifling another yawn. ¡°Well¡­ whatever. I guess you aren¡¯t actually hurting it.¡±


    The manatee squealed, barked, and waved at the fox.


    ¡°Good morning to you too, Marc.¡± The canid stood up on her hind legs and stretched out her spine as she replied.


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°Marc? You named it?¡±


    ¡°Of course I did! She¡¯s Marc because she has a mark on her forehead.¡±


    The blueblood brought a hand to her face, kneading her nose with her fingers as she heaved a sigh. ¡°That¡¯s an awful name.¡±


    ¡°Huh!? What do you mean! Marc is a great name!¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s a girl. Marc is the sort of name you give to a man. One that¡¯s all brawn, and no brain.¡±


    Claire magically pulled the fox towards her. The bubble offered no resistance. She was able to wrap her arms right around the bard and run her fingers through her fur. Retracting her ice spike, she spun Sylvia around so they were facing the same direction before pulling the critter into a tight embrace and resting her chin atop her fuzzy head.


    ¡°And you can¡¯t just name it after the mark on its forehead. Names should have deeper meanings.¡±


    Sylvia sighed. ¡°Oh, come on Claire¡­ Now you¡¯re just being weird. My name doesn¡¯t mean anything special, and I bet yours doesn¡¯t either!¡±


    ¡°Of course it does,¡± said the lamia, with an indignant scoff. ¡°It all begins with my mother.¡± The former lady closed her eyes and pictured the fair lady in her mind. ¡°Her name was Violet, and her hair and scales were both beautiful shades of purple. She named me Claire because mine are bright and shiny.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s that any different from me naming Marc after her ma¡ªmmphh¡±


    Claire clamped a hand over the fox¡¯s mouth and sealed it shut. ¡°Let me finish.¡±


    ¡°Mmrmphhhhh!¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know it sounds like a contradiction. There¡¯s more to the explanation.¡±


    ¡°Mmrmph, mrhhphhhh mrrr?¡±


    ¡°Because it was obvious what you were going to say. Now let me finish.¡±


    ¡°Mrmphh.¡±


    Sylvia relaxed and leaned back into the other girl¡¯s chest.


    ¡°Good.¡± Claire removed her hand and continued. ¡°My mother was on the more thoughtless side. She wanted to name me something simple, like Blanche, Gwyneth or Whitney, but my father disagreed.¡± She stopped to take a breath and steady her nerves.


    ¡°Done?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Almost.¡± The lyrkress tickled the underside of her companion¡¯s chin. ¡°My father¡­ wanted to name me Victoria or Matilda, because he wanted something to do with war or power. Claire was a compromise. It describes the colour of my scales, like my mother wanted. And my father was happy with it. He thought I could become like a beacon of light, capable of guiding an army to its end.¡±


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    ¡°How about now? Are you finally done?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m done.¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡± Sylvia took a deep breath before shouting at the top of her lungs. ¡°That¡¯s still hardly any different!¡±


    Apparently, she wasn¡¯t the only one to feel that way. Her partner in crime, the manatee, stood up on its tail, put its flippers on its hips, and nodded. Something about the gesture ticked Claire off, but she couldn¡¯t stay mad at it. It was so silly that she couldn¡¯t help but giggle.


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t. Not at all,¡± she said, as she stifled her laughter.


    ¡°Yes it is! Ugh, whatever! Fine!¡± Sylvia crossed her arms and turned her head away. ¡°You can come up with a better name for her if you don¡¯t like Marc.¡±


    The rogue paused for a moment to think, but nothing came to mind. It was impossible for her to see the thing in front of her as anything but a sack of lard. And it just so happened that most people didn¡¯t name random objects. ¡°It doesn¡¯t need a name. We can just call it the manatee.¡±


    ¡°Why are you complaining if you can¡¯t even come up with anything!?¡± The fox angrily clamped her jaws down on the hand hovering in front of her face.


    ¡°Ow.¡±


    ¡°You deserved that!¡± She huffed as she feathered her captor¡¯s face with her tail. ¡°I¡¯m biting you again next time you tick me off!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll bite you back.¡±


    ¡°Not if you can¡¯t catch me!¡±


    Sylvia began shrinking at a rapid pace, but Claire tightened her grip before she could get small enough to escape.


    ¡°Wait! What the heck! How did you know I was gonna shrink?¡±


    ¡°I just did.¡± The lyrkress giggled as she tugged on one of the palm-sized fox¡¯s cheeks.


    ¡°No fair!¡±


    ¡°Life isn¡¯t fair.¡± She gently lifted the kit with one hand and placed her on top of her head before turning to the manatee. ¡°Marc is a man¡¯s name. You¡¯re a girl.¡±


    The sea cow cooed, fell back on its stomach, and flapped its flippers.


    ¡°What do you mean, ¡®you don¡¯t care?¡¯¡± The lyrkress brought a hand to the bridge of her nose and pinched it. And when did I learn how to understand it?


    ¡°See! Marc¡¯s a perfectly good name¡ªeep!¡±


    Claire pinched the fox¡¯s snout.


    ¡°You shut up.¡±


    ¡°What the heck was that for!¡±


    Sylvia returned to her normal size as she rubbed the front of her face. It didn¡¯t look like there were any visible marks left by the attack, but she flashed the vicious moose a sheepish, accusing stare nonetheless.


    ¡°For having poor taste in names.¡±


    ¡°There isn¡¯t even a problem! I like it, she likes it, and all the other sea cows like it too! You¡¯re the only one that¡¯s upset.¡±


    ¡°Because you all have poor taste. At least make it sound more feminine.¡±


    ¡°Fine! Then she can be Marcelle instead!¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes and sat down in the grass. The new name was certainly a tiny step in the right direction, but she decided against acknowledging it nonetheless. ¡°What do you want for breakfast?¡±


    ¡°Fish!¡± said the fox, her tail wagging.


    ¡°Of course. I should¡¯ve known.¡± She turned her eyes on the manatee. ¡°What about you?¡±


    The sea creature shook its head and took a bite out of the grass. Claire cast the eggplant a bit of a curious stare as she contemplated the mechanics of its digestive system. She knew that cows had special stomachs and that they needed to chew their cud, but she had never seen the sea cow spit out anything it had already eaten. What am I thinking? Sea cows aren¡¯t cows.


    ¡°This is all your fault, Sylvia,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°Huh!? I didn¡¯t do anything! I don¡¯t even know what you¡¯re trying to blame me for!¡±


    ¡°Everything. I¡¯m blaming you for everything.¡± Claire began walking towards the edge of the savannah. It was still a long way away. At a glance, she couldn¡¯t tell where the floating island gave way to the sky.


    ¡°You can¡¯t just blame me for everything,¡± grumbled the fox. ¡°At least try to make it sound a little reasonable.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Not everything.¡± The snake lifted the fox off her head and pulled her back into her arms. ¡°But it¡¯s your fault I keep thinking that sea cows are real cows.¡±


    ¡°But they are!¡±


    ¡°No. They¡¯re not.¡± Claire leaned forward and shook her head. ¡°You¡¯ve never even seen a real cow, have you?¡±


    ¡°I have! They¡¯re big, black, and they have horns and legs. And they have really funny faces!¡±


    The brief but accurate description brought to mind a pair of images. One was the four-legged animal, and the other was the meaty steak it was destined to become. It had been over two weeks since she had last eaten one, and the half-snake couldn¡¯t help but want a bite of a well-marbled, dry aged raw cow. I wonder if there are any minotaurs in Llystletein¡­


    ¡°Oh. You do know.¡±


    ¡°Mhm! I saw one when I probed around in your dreams last nig¡ª¡± Sylvia brought both paws to her mouth, but it was already too late.


    Claire hissed. ¡°You did what?¡± She lifted the four legged creature to eye level and stared her down.


    Sylvia flailed her limbs in a desperate attempt to break free. ¡°N-nothing! Don¡¯t look at me like that! I¡¯m innocent! It was Al¡¯s idea, and It¡¯s not like I do it every night!¡± The fox shied away from the stare by hiding her face in her arms. ¡°A-and plus, I was only doing it because I was worried about you! You seemed like you were having a really hard time with all the catgirl stuff so I thought that maybe I should check¡­ Oh and I guess it kinda helped me see a bit more of the world too, but I promise that was only because I got distracted! My heart was in the right place!¡±


    She kept rambling until another glare was shot her way.


    ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°M-mhm?¡± The vixen gulped, but meekly peeked through her paws and returned the other halfbreed¡¯s stare nonetheless. Her eyes were unfaltering, even in the face of the almost predatory scowl.


    In the end, it was Claire that first looked away. She closed her eyes, sighed, and pulled her four legged friend back into her chest. There was genuine concern in the other girl¡¯s eyes. It came alongside an almost unhealthy dose of guilt, but its presence was undeniable and its source was genuine. Knowing that, she couldn¡¯t help but feel as if she was wrong to do nothing but blame her. Even though she wasn¡¯t.


    ¡°As long as you don¡¯t invade my privacy.¡±


    ¡°Wait, does that mean what I think it means?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked. ¡°Wait, what¡¯s that supposed to mean? I can¡¯t really tell if that was supposed to be a yes or a no.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Claire magically pulled on one of her cheeks, only to stop and switch to a more manual approach as she found herself unsatisfied by the lack of warmth and fuzziness. ¡°Did you see the ghost?¡±


    ¡°Huh? There¡¯s a ghost?¡± Sylvia spun around with her ears raised and her eyes peeled. Her tail shot straight up like a rod, and she even emitted a low growl. ¡°I-I don¡¯t think I see any ghosts. You better not be trying to freak me out!¡±


    ¡°Not here. I meant the ghost in my dreams.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia tilted her head. ¡°I don¡¯t really check every night. Only when you¡¯re having trouble sleeping and I happen to be awake and bore¡ªer, I mean, uhmmm. Nothing! I didn¡¯t mean anything!¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s there every night. For most of the night.¡±


    ¡°Really? That¡¯s really weird. From what I can tell, you don¡¯t even dream that much. You always start off with something super random and then you just kinda snooze for the rest of the night. It¡¯s always just blank.¡±


    Claire pursed her lips and furrowed her brow as she sank into thought. The discrepancy didn¡¯t seem to make any sense. She had always assumed that the phantom was just a figment of her imagination, but Sylvia¡¯s inability to see him brought the presumption to question. She doubted that the lack of congruence stemmed from incompetence on the fox¡¯s part. If she was powerful enough to casually create a level 250 lord, then she was likely to notice that something was off, unless there was a greater power at work. Maybe I should ask Box¡­ if we see each other again before I ascend.


    ¡°Nevermind then,¡± said the lyrkress. She didn¡¯t think that it would be wise to discuss the topic any further, or even disclose its details, for that matter. The last thing she wanted to do was accidentally anger an entity that could either completely overpower or outskill the absurd librarian that was the fox.


    ¡°Well umm¡­ okay, I guess. If you say so!¡± chriped Sylvia.


    Not saying a word, Claire picked up the pace and ran towards the island¡¯s edge.


    There was a lot of thinking to be done. And she was getting the feeling that the cottontail hole went far deeper than she had initially presumed.

 Chapter 118 - The One-Legged Kraken V

    Chapter 118 - The One-Legged Kraken V


    The agenda was discussed over a simple breakfast of plants and raw seafood. Though Claire had gathered all of the fresh ingredients, she knew very little of what she had brought to the table. One was a strange tentacle monster that refused to die even with its head impaled by a piece of ice. Another was apparently meant to be a fish, but more closely resembled a deflated slime than it did any sort of swimmer; its blobby body was made entirely of soft, malleable tissue. The third and final catch was a living rock that would occasionally stick a snorkel into the water and move it around. The rogue didn¡¯t exactly think that any of them were edible, and they had half been caught in jest, but Sylvia enjoyed all them deliciously nonetheless. All three morsels vanished down her throat despite each being larger than her stomach.


    The pair had already parted ways with the lardball that had accompanied them throughout the morning. Marcelle was apparently more interested in gorging herself on grass than she was their companionship, a choice that Claire definitively ruled as rational. The not-hay was one of the least bad tasting things in the lost library, and the lyrkress had even gathered some of it for herself.


    ¡°Dad says that Fred works really fast.¡±


    ¡°What does that mean in days?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I dunno, I¡¯ve never really asked.¡±


    Claire opened her mouth to speak, but Sylvia cut her off before she could make a sound.


    ¡°Don¡¯t even start! I¡¯m not useless! He¡¯s never made anything for me before! How am I supposed to know exactly how fast he works!?¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to call you useless,¡± said the lyrkress, with a quiet giggle. ¡°But I¡¯m glad you know.¡±


    Sylvia covered her ears with her paws and rolled around in the sand. ¡°Ahhhhhh! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!¡±


    ¡°No you don¡¯t.¡± Claire magically pulled the fox into another hug. The victim tried to escape, but was paralyzed with a glare and forced to sit still. ¡°How long will it take to track down the chain and chasm lords?¡±


    ¡°Ummmm¡­ the chain bird is gonna be a huge pain because it runs and I don¡¯t think you¡¯re fast enough to chase it down. The chasm lord is pretty far, but I think we can knock it out today if you want.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Then let¡¯s do that,¡± said Claire. ¡°Is there anything else I can kill?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± Sylvia rubbed her cheek against Claire¡¯s ice spike before resting her jaw on top of it. ¡°We can head down to the green belt if you want. I think that¡¯s technically supposed to be the toughest zone, unless you count the equitaur¡¯s chamber.¡±


    ¡°Is that all there is?¡± Claire furrowed her brow. ¡°That¡­ doesn¡¯t seem right.¡±


    ¡°Huh? It doesn¡¯t? Why not?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t see any of the famous warriors that came here to seek glory. None of them were in the citadel, or up on borrok peak. And none of the monsters I¡¯ve seen were strong enough to kill them.¡±


    ¡°Oh ummm¡­ Al had this whole fancy explanation for that, but I don¡¯t really remember it. You can probably ask Dad if you¡¯re curious. I think he¡¯s got a pretty good idea why.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it later. When you¡¯re less useless.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush about that already! I¡¯m not useless!¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    Claire finished one last mouthful of hay before slowly rising from her seat. Unlike her companion, who had devoured an entire sea creature with every bite, the moose had needed a few minutes to chew through all her hay. Her teeth were too jagged to consistently grind down the plant matter. It was a problem she had always had, but it had gotten worse following her ascension. The incisors in her mouth had only grown pointier.


    Together, the pair walked across the beach and stepped into the ocean, with neither faltering for even a second. Sylvia¡¯s bubble appeared as her paw touched the water, enveloping her in a protective layer. Claire needed no such thing, but changed her cloak to emulate the waterproof linens so often worn by the servants that used to bathe her. She wasn¡¯t worried about getting soaked; the water was sure to wash right off her skin, but the sensation of wet clothes against her skin wasn¡¯t one she particularly enjoyed.


    How many hellhogs can I take at once? After taking a moment to recall her first in-library kill, Claire began following her guide deeper and deeper into the sea. The light in their surroundings began to dim as they got further from the shore and away from all the islands darting the beautiful archipelago. Vibrant corals gave way to darker patches of kelp and seaweed, and the once iridescent schools of fish vanished, leaving duller fauna to take their place. Along with the bountiful life went the currents and waves. The water grew still and quiet, eerie even, as the headcount dwindled and shrank.


    The skeletons dotting the ocean floor didn¡¯t help the impression. Most lay still, but the several intact specimens continued to swim about, as they had in life. Their fleshless bodies darted through the depths with little to no difficulty; the only source of sound in an otherwise silent world.


    ¡°Welcome to the chasm!¡± said Sylvia, as she caught one of the skeletons in her paws. To her owner¡¯s complete and utter confusion, the pet swallowed it whole, as she had its living counterparts.


    ¡°Why are you eating that?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve always wanted to know how a bone fish tastes¡­ and um¡­ the answer is not very fishy.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not the problem¡­¡± Claire pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re supposed to eat the undead.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Oh! Right! You don¡¯t know what these are!¡± She darted over to another fish, caught it in her mouth, and brought it over. ¡°Here, look! It¡¯s actually alive!¡±


    Narrowing her eyes into a glare, Claire took a close, careful look at the skeleton. And in doing so, discovered that there was more to it than she had thought. Though difficult to spot, there were tiny blood vessels arranged in what looked like a preset pattern floating in the space around the monster¡¯s bones. It wasn¡¯t until she touched it that she realised that it was made of flesh. There was a soft squishy layer of transparent tissue wrapped around the swimmer¡¯s boney interior, but it was nigh impossible to spot, even from up close.


    ¡°Is the lord going to be one of these?¡± asked Claire, with an annoyed sigh.


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    ¡°Nope! It¡¯s still a huge pain in the butt, but it isn¡¯t nearly as bad. I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll have too much trouble with it since you beat the labyrinth¡¯s lord.¡±


    Is that supposed to mean it¡¯s weaker? The other lord wasn¡¯t very tough. Just sly.


    ¡°Oh yeah! What level is your force resistance now? I think it should be about time for it to evolve, right?¡±


    Claire froze. A glowing box appeared in front of her momentarily, remaining for just long enough to allow her to confirm that she had failed to make any progress.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire? Hello?¡±


    The bloodthief was stone-faced by the time the fox turned to check on her. She continued to step into the abyss with her eyes unblinking and her head held perfectly still. Sylvia paddled over and waved a hand in front of her face, but she refused to breathe, let alone react.


    ¡°What the heck! Don¡¯t just ignore me!¡± Though the half-elf was confused at first, she soon caught on and arced her back like a hissing cat. ¡°I won¡¯t go away even if you pretend I don¡¯t exist.¡± She leapt onto Claire¡¯s face and sank her teeth into one of her ears.


    It was more of an annoyed nibble than it was a real bite. And that was precisely why the half-cervitaur reacted with a start. She nearly jumped out of her skin as an odd tingling sensation shot down her spine and coursed through her body.


    After a brief delay, during which she regained her composure, the blueblood yoinked the fox right off her head, and held her in front of her face. ¡°Don¡¯t ever do that again,¡± she said, with a hiss.


    ¡°Well too bad! I found one of your weaknesses, and I¡¯m gonna keep using it!¡± chirped Sylvia. ¡°And besides, that¡¯s what you get for ignoring me!¡±


    Claire paused for another moment before breathing a sigh and shaking her head. ¡°We¡¯ve been over this before. It¡¯s not a weakness.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked. It took a few moments of floating around in place for her to finally recall the conversation in question. ¡°Oh¡­ right. Sorry. I almost forgot that you were an ear-perv.¡±


    ¡°You have no right to call me that. Especially not after what you just did.¡± A glare was fired in the fox¡¯s direction.


    She didn¡¯t feel as vulnerable as she did the last time the fox had accidentally touched her inappropriately, but she remained just as uncomfortable. The maidservants had been the only ones allowed to touch her ears into the later years of her adolescence, and that was only so that they could decorate them with accessories for whatever special occasion she needed to attend. Allowing the fox to play with them freely was already pushing the limit; it was only somewhat acceptable because she was functionally a dog.


    ¡°That¡¯s what Al says when I kick him in the face!¡± she said, with a grumble. ¡°It¡¯s not my fault that something totally normal makes you feel funny.¡±


    ¡°Yes. It is,¡± hissed Claire. ¡°No more ear nibbling. Ever. And don¡¯t ever compare me to Alfred again.¡±


    ¡°Ughhh¡­ oh, fine,¡± grumbled the fox. ¡°I won¡¯t do it again unless you really annoy me.¡±


    ¡°Not even if I annoy you.¡±


    ¡°Well too bad!¡± Sylvia stuck out her tongue. ¡°So what level is your force resistance?¡±


    Claire averted her gaze. ¡°Twelve.¡±


    ¡°Wait¡­ only twelve? Did you totally forget about leveling it?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    The lyrkress took a moment to recall the last time she had actively put the skill to use, but nothing seemed to come to mind. She had forgotten about it the day after she received the fox¡¯s instruction.


    ¡°I¡¯ll start working on it.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget this time!¡± shouted the fox. ¡°Oh, and watch your step. There¡¯s a huge ridge right in front of you.¡±


    Looking forward, Claire found herself staring at an underwater cliff. The darkness had kept it obscured from afar, but the dim light radiating off her body illuminated it as she closed in. It was a massive gorge, tens of meters across, and wide enough to extend off to parts unknown. Fish swam in and out of the ocean trench, sometimes more successfully than others. Bizarre-looking predators would shoot out from the depths and drag the fleeing bass back into the abyss.


    The hunters were somewhat reminiscent of the octopuses she had caught for Sylvia earlier, but sported three heads instead of eight legs. Their skulls radiated from a central core like a triangle¡¯s points, with a single sucker-tipped feeler rising from the middle. On the opposite side of the appendage was a large beaked mouth, filled with rows upon rows of gnashing hooked teeth.


    Claire snatched one out of the water and crushed it in her hands; its soft, squishy body offered no resistance as she ground its flesh to a fine paste.


    Log Entry 3012


    You have slain a level 27 monopus.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 1 point of strength


    ¡°Do we go down?¡±


    Not batting an eye at the notification ringing through her head, the lyrkress returned her gaze to the abyss. When she looked more carefully and strained her eyes, she found that she wasn¡¯t the only source of light. Somewhere, deep down in the ocean, there were others, faint twinkling hints of luminescence that dotted the depths like stars in the sky.


    ¡°Yup! Just be careful not to go too far down at once.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± Claire leapt off the edge and pushed herself further into the sea. ¡°The monopuses are weak.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not why!¡± shouted Sylvia, as she paddled after her. ¡°You¡¯re gonna get squished!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    She knew what the fox meant. She could already feel the weight of the water on her insides, the combined mass of the ocean pressing down on her from above. The deeper she got, the more powerful it became, but something in her gut told her that she needn¡¯t be concerned. Her body was adapted to extreme climates, and she had no doubts that the seafloor was on the list, given all of the other aquatic features built into her form.


    The stars brightened as she continued to descend, revealing that they were not celestial bodies glimmering off in the distant skies, but rather large fish with lamps hanging from their heads. They were joined by sparkling crustaceans, glowing plants, and shimmering caterpillars, each shinier than the last.


    There was still the occasional patch of black strewn about the gorge, but there were so many different light sources teeming within the channel that the darkness was nearly as rare as the occasional bubble-shrouded fox. There were roughly a dozen of the out-of-place mammals swimming around, nonchalantly, as if they were in their natural habitat. The only thing they shared with the sea monsters around them was their appetite. Like just about everything else, the foxes were feasting on whatever they could get their paws on. They were apex predators, with one even swallowing a shark ten times its size in a single breath.


    ¡°Are you okay? Is the pressure getting to you?¡± Sylvia landed on top of Claire¡¯s head and peered over at her face. Unlike the moose, she was completely unperturbed by the scene laid before her.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t bother me.¡± The snake paralyzed the two-headed shark charging her with a glare before magically grabbing a skull with each hand and tearing it in half.


    Log Entry 3013


    You have slain a level 41 Stormsturt.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 1 point of wisdom


    ¡°Wait, really?¡± Sylvia blinked. ¡°Wow, your body must be really weird.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s normal,¡± said Claire. ¡°Where¡¯s the lord?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll find it if you go a little bit deeper,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I think I¡¯m gonna stick around here and get myself something to eat.¡±


    ¡°You just ate.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I can still eat a little more. Besides¡­¡± She pointed a paw at a particularly round fox. ¡°Even Burr¡¯s on a feeding frenzy, and he hates fish! Can you imagine how tasty they are?¡±


    ¡°I doubt they¡¯re anything but mediocre. Like everything else.¡±


    ¡°Geez¡­ You really need to stop being such a spoilsport!¡± jeered the 78% catgirl. ¡°Oh, and I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll have any trouble against the lord, but don¡¯t worry! I¡¯ll be keeping an eye on you, just in case something goes wrong.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± Claire lifted Sylvia off her head and prodded one of her cheeks with her tail.


    ¡°Well too bad!¡±


    The fox stuck out her tongue before darting off after a chimera resembling both a fish and a turtle.


    ¡°Stupid fox.¡± Alfred¡¯s threat still fresh in her mind, the halfbreed took a long breath, filled her lungs with water, and sank further into the depths.

 Chapter 119 - The One-Legged Kraken VI

    Chapter 119 - The One-Legged Kraken VI


    There was an audible splash as Claire descended upon the seafloor. Accompanying the out-of-place sound was an equally out of place sensation, the feeling of a light, salty breeze against her hooves. The ungulate feet were dry, just like the layer of sand that lay beneath them; the chasm¡¯s salty brine came to an abrupt end just a few centimeters above her ankles. Even stranger than the air pocket¡¯s presence was its uniformity. There was a distinct invisible plane that the water was not allowed to pass. She was unable to transport any of the fluid into the dry chamber, even with her magic.


    The chasm¡¯s bottom dwellers were distinct from their high rising peers, both in scale and number. Wagon-sized fish were a common sight, and their predators, the sharks and monopusses, were also scaled up accordingly. With the four-legged hunters removed from the equation, the food chain was far more chaotic; the submarine behemoths battled it out in freeform brawls where only the victors were allowed to eat.


    While their bodies had grown to exaggerated proportions, their levels did not. The larger variants were only once ascended, and the most powerful among them hovered at most in the level seventy range. Like the crabs, they were unable to hold against her. But for what they lacked in strength, they appeared to demonstrate in intellect. Most began to actively avoid her after bearing witness to the butchering of their kin.


    Locating the lord was not as easy as Sylvia had suggested. She wandered around the ocean floor but found nothing but the usual suspects until she investigated the mountain that lay at one of its far ends. Drawing closer to the large triangular structure revealed that it was covered from head to toe in a layer of sickly purple skin. The halfbreed had assumed that the lord would be bioluminescent, just like all the other creatures swimming around in the dark, but it remained the sole entity that refused to conform. Or at least the only one she could see.


    The monster pulled itself out of the sand as she drew near, revealing both its fifty meter frame and the three heads that lay at the base of its body. The one on its left was relatively ordinary; it was a giant octopus face, no different from the ones that all the other monopuses had featured, but the other two were more distinct. The middle head looked like something that would have fit better on a dog, specifically a bulldog with its flattened face a thousand times larger than the norm. Its right head was humanoid. It was old and wrinkled, with massive warts growing atop its disproportionate hooked nose; she wouldn¡¯t have been surprised to find the very same head atop an old child-eating witch. All three craniums were topped with locks of grey-black hair, each styled in its own unique fashion. The dog head had braids, the squid head had dreadlocks, and the human head was left messy and untamed.


    ¡°Hello, stranger. Good day to you.¡±


    ¡°Who are you? What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Go away. I¡¯m very, very sleepy.¡±


    The human, squid, and dog spoke all at once. Making out their words was difficult. Their voices were near identical. They almost seemed to fight against each other; the contrasting sounds echoed off the walls and melded together to create a dissonance of barely intelligible noise. Claire had to close her eyes and replay the mess in her mind to pick out the individual sentences. But even then, she was left at an impasse. She didn¡¯t know which head to respond to; all three seemed to be awaiting an answer.


    ¡°Are you the lord of the chasm?¡± She was almost tempted to ask why or how the chimera was 35% catgirl, but refrained in the interest of keeping the filthy word out of her mouth.


    ¡°Correct. We are the sixty fourth lord of the chasm.¡±


    ¡°Fuck off! None of your business!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m tired. What year is it?¡±


    Again, they all spoke at once. They had only had a brief exchange, but Claire was gritting her teeth. She was sick of talking to it, and it had already given her all the confirmation she needed, but it spoke again before she could get on with its murder.


    ¡°You¡¯re here to slay us, but we don¡¯t like fighting. Let¡¯s engage in a contest of wits with our lives on the line.¡±


    ¡°You look dumber than the average person. Why don¡¯t you try solving one of our riddles?¡±


    ¡°Sleeping is fun but mind games are funner. Let¡¯s enjoy a word puzzle together.¡±


    The rogue closed her eyes and slowly inhaled a lungful of water. She considered playing along for only a moment before outright dismissing it. Claire was confident in her rhetoric, but there was no point in putting herself through the trouble, especially not if the riddle in question was binding. In her moment of silence, she forged a weapon, a large chunk of ice in the shape of a spear, and raised it above her shoulder.


    ¡°I refuse.¡± She threw the weapon as the words left her mouth. It drilled through the water, nailed the dog-like face square in the forehead, and drilled through its supple flesh. More than half the spiral-tipped lance sank into the monster¡¯s body, but she was unsure if she managed to do any lasting damage. The head was more than ten times the pole weapon¡¯s length, and she could¡¯t tell if she¡¯d gotten through to the brain, stopped at the skull, or perhaps even failed to reach the bone. The monster was far too massive and bizarre for her to accurately gauge the effects of her attacks.


    Still, she remained confident. If stabbing it once didn¡¯t work, then she would just have to stab it again, and again, and again. Until it was turned into a bleeding mess of a corpse.


    The cerbersquid began to roar and shout as it finally registered the pain, but she heard none of it. Her ears were sealed in a layer of ice; crafted to protect her from its headache inducing cacophony of a voice. She was tempted to dive straight into close quarters and smash one of its faces with her fists, but she backed off instead and kept a careful eye out for its response.


    Killing it would be difficult. She had no idea where its true vitals lay or how it intended to fight. The smaller monopuses would fly at their prey with their mouths gaping, but she didn¡¯t think it practical for the lord.


    And yet, that was exactly what it did.


    It flipped on its side and dove at her mouth first, revealing a beak lined with three sets of jaws, each made of teeth as large as her head. Though seemingly practiced, the approach was irreparably flawed. Only one of its heads could see her; neither of the two mammalian parts were able to look beneath themselves. Their eyes simply weren¡¯t positioned for the task, and their skulls were locked in place; it almost appeared incapable of craning its non-existent necks.


    Smiling confidently, she avoided the toothy body slam by darting aside and approached the only head that fit in with its frame. The submarine face began to glow with a soft green light, but she lashed out at its eye before its spell was complete. Her tail dug straight into its massive socket and fished around for the piece of flesh that held it in place.


    The kraken reeled back and flailed at her with its tentacle, but she evaded again. When the boneless arm reeled around for a second strike, she stepped out of the way and left it to stab at its own missing eye. It had failed to put up a defense; not even its slimy mucous had stopped her from robbing it of one of its vital organs.


    Screeching, it lashed out at her again. Its tentacle was erratic and would change angles seemingly at random, but its movements were too slow, too reliant on momentum to catch her. Each lashing strike had a long, predictable windup that she had no trouble identifying, even with the details of its frame obscured by a lack of light.


    Casting the stolen eyeball aside, she weaved through its blows and approached its face again. But unlike the first time, it was ready and waiting. A magic circle appeared beneath it as its cephalopod head ballooned like a pufferfish and ejected a series of tiny spines in every which direction. There were too many of them to evade; her skin was scratched by a countless number of needles, even as she retreated and focused her efforts on knocking the projectiles out of the water.


    Log Entry 3021


    You have been poisoned. Your health regeneration has been reduced from 1560/hour to -440/hour, and your agility has been reduced from 518 to 268. Your motor functions have been impaired. This effect will last for two hours.


    The pins themselves did next to nothing, but the accompanying payload was not one she could easily dismiss. Her veins were itching and aching; she was tempted to dig her nails into her own skin and tear her blood vessels from her flesh. As much as it bothered her, the prickling irritation coursing through her body was but the second fiddle. The seemingly harmless hit to her agility was what truly took centre stage. Her limbs refused to respond with their usual fluidity; moving through the water was as hard as wading through mud. She had to actively fight her own rigid form to get her body to obey her commands.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Even breathing was hard. Her lungs often refused to respond, and her heart began beating at uneven intervals. When the lord tackled her again, she found herself struggling to evade its beak. The jagged mandible ripped through her cloak and tore through her armour like paper. It was nigh unimpeded, the metal delayed the attack for only the briefest of moments. It was enough time for her to escape, but not without suffering a blow. One of her ribs was broken and there was a bloody gash running across her chest, but she had managed to get out from under the monopus before she was crushed by the weight of its humanoid face.


    It yelled something at her, a message that fell on deaf ears. She continued to ignore it as she took half an unsteady step forward and fired an icy beam. Though the freezing ray coated everything it touched in a thin layer of ice, she knew that it was far too small in scale to pose a real threat. It was the same problem she had with the whale. She was outsized, and to make matters worse, the monster¡¯s vitality was too high for her to drag it into a battle of attrition. The eye she had torn out was already starting to grow back. It wasn¡¯t quite as quick to heal as a corrupted watcher, but a significant piece of flesh returned with every passing moment. All the damage she did was sure to be undone if she didn¡¯t reapply the wound within the next few minutes.


    She needed a way to hit it quick and hard.


    And that was precisely why she drew her iceborn axe.


    Seizing the initiative, the lyrkress kicked off the ground and sped through the water. Shouldersnake was summoned in the middle of her charge and infused with every last drop of mana it could take. The serpent was launched into the water with only one simple instruction, to serve as a suicidal nuiscance. Ignoring the behemoth¡¯s attacks, it weaved its way in and out of the monopus¡¯ underbelly, firing bolts of ice everywhere it went.


    The one-legged kraken wasn¡¯t so easily distracted. Though it did attempt to squash the spirit animal, at least one of its five eyes remained fixed on her no matter where she went. Its heads were locked in place, so it tilted its whole body instead, even if it meant taking more damage from her serpentine companion.


    It wasn¡¯t a bad choice, but not even all the tentacle lashing in the world could stop her from proceeding. From just outside its range, she exploited one of the most fundamental properties of her chief element. The ability to spread.


    The ice that made up her blade expanded through the sea, increasing its mass tenfold with every passing second. She fed it a constant stream of mana, freezing and weaponizing the water around her. Try as it might, the monster was unable to stop her from enhancing her blade. She took a step back each time it stepped forward, and its agility proved inferior, even with the poison eating away at hers.


    Once transformed into a kraken-sized cleaver, the monstrous blade was swung with all the might she could muster.


    Her foe attempted to intercept the attack with its tentacle, but she boosted the axe¡¯s speed with a burst of force magic and slid it past the squid¡¯s guard. Its head cleaved straight through the dog face, splitting it in two, right down the centre.


    And in doing so, revealed that it was not what it seemed.


    The monster was in pain; it flailed about and clutched at its skull.


    But it wasn¡¯t bleeding.


    Looking inside the open head, she found that it was nothing but a prop. There was no brain and no skull. It was just another lump of flesh. Not even the canine mouth was connected to the rest of its body; its oral cavity ended with another layer of purple skin.


    Though confused, she pressed her advantage without missing a beat. She readied her massive weapon again and brought it down a second time. But the sea monster rejected the attack. It smashed its tentacle into the side of her axe midswing.


    The brittle ice was nothing before the giant¡¯s powerful muscles. The weapon wasn¡¯t just displaced. It was shattered. Its blade was broken into a million pieces, particles of fine dust.


    It had learned.


    And she had known it would.


    That was why she had transferred all of the weapon¡¯s momentum on contact.


    The confused, raging kraken crashed into the sandy bank below. All five of its eyes darted around wildly in an attempt to locate her, but the light that revealed her location was gone, muffled by a thick layer of leather.


    She fired her next attack from directly overhead. Two beams of ice, one from each hand. The glowing magic carved through the darkness right as her phantom serpent snuck up the sea creature¡¯s octopus-like face and exploded whilst biting down on its remaining giant eye.


    One spell landed on each of its sockets. The ice rapidly expanded from the point of contact, filling the half-empty holes and freezing them in time. The thought of using her divinity crossed her mind, but she refrained. She had already cheated one lord to death. She didn¡¯t need to do the same thing again. The recoil wasn¡¯t worth it, and she wanted¡ªhad¡ªto prove that she was superior, cowardly tricks notwithstanding.


    It flailed around and tried to evade the beams, but she kept them concentrated on its squid-like face. She swam around it, focusing her fire on the same spots even as it tried to block her with its sole limb; its whole head was frozen by the time the beam finally fizzled out.


    The false command center remained an unmoving meat popsicle for a full five seconds. But then, it burst free, just as she was about to conclude that she had dealt another lasting blow. The whole world trembled as the creature roared; its three heads screamed at her as it manifested a series of spells. All of which set its own body as the target.


    Sickly purple parts sprouted from its frame. Blinking eyelids appeared all over its feeler, flattened appendages grew from its remaining heads, and a massive muscle extended from its mouth.


    Claire threw her axe into the water above and grew it again. Recognizing the impending attack, the kraken began rushing its spells. Each polymorph was more gruesome and incomplete than the last. Blood leaked from the eyes, only half the fins were properly formed, and the tongue was more a mess of cancerous flesh than it was a distinctive organ.


    The one-legged colossus kicked itself into high gear as soon as its tongue grew from its beak. It began to spin like a top, slowly at first, but more rapidly with every passing moment. The water around it followed suit, spiralling into a massive vortex that deprived her of all control. She struggled against the current, but she couldn¡¯t stop it from sweeping her up and washing her away.


    Chunks of debris-rocks and spines-crashed into her as she was flung to and fro. They bashed in her armour and sliced up her scales.


    Log Entry 3022


    You have been badly poisoned. Your health regeneration has been reduced from 1560/hour to -2440/hour, and your agility has been reduced from 518 to 18. Your motor functions have been heavily impaired. This effect will last for four hours.


    Her heart rate plummeted as she gasped for breath. She felt like she had been debilitated; her body refused most of her commands. Only one of every few orders carried through her system, with most losing steam halfway down her spine.


    Log Entry 3023


    You are now familiar with and capable of producing lesser tetrodotoxin.


    Her eyes drooped and lost focus. The massive shadow at the centre of the storm grew blurrier and blurrier. She felt like she was about to lose track of it the moment she blinked, and being flung around like a ragdoll only served to make matters worse.


    Paralyzing gaze had no effect on the three-headed monstrosity. Or perhaps it did. She couldn¡¯t tell. Its momentum kept it spinning, regardless of whether its muscles were frozen.


    Claire could only grit her teeth and bear with the assault.


    She didn¡¯t know what to do. It was too heavy for her to push it with force magic, and her ice magic had little to no effect. Physically battering it seemed to be the only viable option, but even that was questionable at best. Closing in on it was impossible while it was spinning, and she wasn¡¯t sure that the damage she dealt would last.


    An alternative popped into her hazy mind as she considered options, one that ultimately led to Shoulderhorse''s advent.


    The make-believe pony got to work immediately. It opened its mouth. And began to inhale.


    Unlike the toxic barbs polluting her surroundings, the water was not made of magic. Neither was the underwater vortex that had her at its mercy. It was entirely a physical phenomenon produced by the monopus¡¯ raw strength. And that was precisely why it was eaten. The entire spiralling mass was instantly devoured and taken into the mare¡¯s stomach.


    More water rushed in to fill the void, but not quickly enough. With no ocean to support it, the monopus plummeted into the sandy shore below. Both its heads were ground into the sand at an incredible speed. The grit shaved through its skin and burned its flesh before it could finally slow. Because of the way the ocean was structured, no water filled the gaps between the monster¡¯s body and the submarine beach, and its mucus was soon depleted. There was no lubricant to save it from wrecking its underside; it was forced to endure the pain until it finally ground to a halt.


    It slowly rose from the sand and returned to the water, both its faces fuming with rage. The humanoid head¡¯s veins were popping, and its squiddy puppet was buzzing and flailing.


    That was when she finally approached.


    Popping up from within the sandy shore, she flung Shoulderhorse into its open, bloodied mouth. She chopped off its tongue with a blade out of ice, plugged the entrance with her weapon, and sealed it shut by freezing the area around it. And then, only then, did she order the spirit to dump its load.


    It was a bet. Predicated on the idea that its other two heads were the same as its first.


    A bet she won.


    Their false orifices failed to function as exits for the fluid.


    With nowhere to go, the water pooled inside the monster and inflated it to a dozen times its previous size. Its skin was incredibly stretchy and elastic. But not elastic enough.


    Pushed to its limit, the kraken¡¯s flesh burst. And flooded the sea with a mix of blood, guts, and brine.

 Chapter 120 - Two Blades and a Tail

    Chapter 120 - Two Blades and a Tail


    A small, satisfied smile on her face, Claire hummed a tune as she swam up out of the depths. Her eyes were fixed on her logs. She had already gone through them once, but once was hardly enough. The kill had filled her chest with pride; she had single-handedly taken down a unique monster roughly twice her level, and without any cheap tricks at that. It was an achievement that even her father¡¯s elites would have struggled to complete.


    Log Entry 3024


    You have slain a unique level 161 Llystletein Enormonopus, titled ¡°The Lord of the Chasm.¡±


    This feat has earned you the following bonuses:


    - 9 points of agility


    - 2 points of dexterity


    - 15 points of strength


    - 32 (16x2) points of vitality


    - 15 points of wisdom


    She disliked the label that came with her vitality boost, but the bonus itself was more than welcome. Sixteen extra points was nothing to scoff at, and frankly she felt like she deserved each and every last one. Prolonged exposure had caused the monster¡¯s poison to drain her health at an alarming rate. It had grown potent enough to kill her twice over, and the effect on her body was worrying to say the least. She had been made to feel like a prisoner in her own flesh, and that was precisely why she was so excited.


    Envenom had registered it as an option. She would be able to do to others exactly as the kraken had done to her. The possibilities were endless, and she was confident that many of her closest fights would have ended in just a few quick seconds, had she had access to it any earlier. But I wouldn¡¯t have my shard if I killed that one borrok any faster¡­


    Log Entry 3025


    One of your spawnable food items has been upgraded.


    Log Entry 3026


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Frostblight Lyrkress, has reached level 90.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Bloodthief, has reached level 86.


    Your secondary class, Llysteltein Vector Mage, has reached level 88.


    You have gained 87 ability score points.


    Like her last noteworthy kill, it provided an almost obscene number of levels. In total, there were nine, the majority of which were concentrated in her secondary class. The sheer amount of experience she gained was a volume she would have thought unthinkable just a few weeks prior. But having felt the giant monopus¡¯ power for herself, she knew that the reward was not disproportionate to the risk. The vortex would have ended her without the imaginary pony.


    She was almost tempted to praise the deformed horse, but dismissed the poor judgement call before she accidentally followed through. The battlemage was in a good mood and she didn¡¯t need the imaginary shoulder beast to ruin it.


    Log Entry 3027


    You have completed one of ¡°The Lords¡¯ Last Regards''¡± objectives.


    The following objectives will remain active for the next 22 days:


    - The Lord of the Holt is slain


    - The Lord of the Slough is slain


    Only two targets remained. As far as the schedule went, it looked like she was making decent time. Though she thought of mirewulves as easy prey, she was beginning to think that the lord would prove tricky beyond her expectations. All the other lords had been far more powerful than their regular counterparts, and each had an unpredictable ace up its sleeve. What does the frog have in store?


    Log Entry 3028


    Axe Mastery has reached level 12.


    Log Entry 3029


    Digging has reached level 14.


    Log Entry 3030


    Envenom has reached level 20.


    She had already tested her new poison. The unlucky fish she had captured and repeatedly stabbed had collapsed soon after she flooded its veins with the foreign substance, and not because it was bloodied. Applying an equal dose of rocket fuel to an identical looking fish did nothing to impede it from swimming off into the depths.


    Though the venom was incredibly potent, the rogue was almost certain that it would accomplish very little if she was to be pitted against the frog. Like the enormonopus, the anuran was of an obscene scale. She didn¡¯t think it was possible for her to produce enough poison to impede it.


    ¡°I need a better way to kill things bigger than me,¡± she muttered.


    The axe trick she had used on the kraken was effective, but also completely out of the question. It had a large body of water as a strict requirement. The marsh was vast, but it wasn¡¯t deep enough to provide the conditions she needed.


    Log Entry 3031


    Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts has reached level 22.


    Log Entry 3032


    Spirit Sorcery has reached level 31.


    Log Entry 3033


    Thermodynamic Regulation has reached level 11.


    Log Entry 3034


    True Ice Manipulation has reached level 16.


    Coming to the conclusion that she didn¡¯t have anything apt in her toolkit, Claire heaved a small sigh and scanned her surroundings. There were a large number of foxes swimming about, but the one she was looking for was nowhere to be seen. Catgirl detector yielded no results, and she couldn¡¯t hear her, even with her ears strained. A minute or so of looking around later, the lyrkress scrunched up her face, shrugged, and gave up.


    It almost seemed out of character for the fox to not suddenly show up out of nowhere, but she figured that the four-legged elf likely had her own business to sort. Even Alice, who often stuck to her like a second head, had wanted the occasional bit of time to herself.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Casting one last glance at her surroundings, and concluding that she wasn¡¯t just being made the victim of some sort of prank, Claire beat her tail against the water and accelerated towards the surface. The urge to burst up above the waves welled up from within as she closed in on the glimmering morning light, the bits and pieces that glimmered through the sea. She followed the sunbeams, burst through the surface, and arced through the air like a dolphin, but rather than returning to the water, as would a bottle-nosed swimmer, she chose instead to point her tail at her back and take to the skies.


    The lord of the chasm was dead. She only needed two more of its compatriots to fill her quota and claim the reward that awaited her. It was only a matter of time, and she saw no reason to avoid a celebratory frolick.


    ___


    ¡°What do you want, Al?¡±


    Letting the fish turtle in her jaws run free, Sylvia climbed a nearby rock, got up on her hind legs, and placed her hands on her hips. Her gaze was cast directly in front of her, at the old disembodied face that had appeared out of thin air. It came alongside a pipe and a hat, the former of which was still lit, despite its submarine location.


    The old celestial had sent her a magical signal as Claire had descended into the depths. Not knowing the precise range of the lyrkress¡¯ ears, she had only answered after a few minutes of travelling. She was near the surface, a league and a half away from the chasm.


    ¡°I need a moment of your time,¡± said the old man, as the rest of his body appeared beneath his hat.


    ¡°I thought I told you already!¡± barked Sylvia with a frown. ¡°I¡¯m not doing any more proctor stuff.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, child. I¡¯m not here to chide you.¡± He spoke with a low chuckle before lightly tapping his staff against the ground and dragging her to his laboratory.


    It looked almost as would any other part of the library. An endless shelf lined the walls, his research materials catalogued therein. A quick glance at the various titles revealed tens of thousands of years of research, the grand majority of which was focused on the morphology of catgirls. But unlike the reading room, whose walls were lined with material, the laboratory had only one infinite bookcase. The rest of the enclosure was covered instead with magic circles, runic inscriptions arranged to better direct and optimise the flow of mana.


    At the center of the room was a stone slab marked with three kinds of magical lettering. Its glyphs were glowing, active, and keeping the objects atop them afloat. There were saws, daggers, and blades, all of which were operating on what was once a familiar rodent. Though its head was cut open and its body devoid of organs, its limbs were still tied down with glowing metal chains, restrained, to keep it from rising from the dead.


    ¡°First, take a look. I¡¯ve managed to capture something¡­ strange,¡± said the old celestial. ¡°I believe you¡¯ve already been in contact with this thing before?¡±


    Sylvia nodded. ¡°Umm¡­ kinda I guess.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t notice everything wrong with it.¡±


    ¡°You mean how he¡¯s a weirdo? It¡¯s kinda hard not to notice,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°Look at his soul, dear child.¡±


    One of the blades beheaded the squirrel. But its flesh continued to regenerate.


    ¡°Wow ummm¡­ how¡¯s he still alive?¡± Sylvia¡¯s eyes glowed as she cocked her head. ¡°Oh, and I can¡¯t! I junked my warden class a while ago, so I can¡¯t see souls anymore.¡±


    Alfred scrunched up his face. ¡°That is¡­ unfortunate.¡± He heaved a sigh as he took off his hat and set it aside. ¡°And there go my plans to ask for a second opinion. I¡¯ve been a little busy lately, and I¡¯m not quite confident in my own.¡±


    Sylvia laughed awkwardly. ¡°Sorry Al. Well, on the bright side, Grant still has his, and I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll help if you bug him enough.¡±


    ¡°I doubt that will prove very beneficial, as he and I share lines of thought,¡± said the old man. ¡°But I suppose it is worth a try, at least.¡± He took a long drag from his pipe before sitting down in front of an ancient tome. ¡°As I¡¯m sure you can see, I¡¯ve quarantined the singularity. I¡¯ll be personally keeping an eye on him, and ensuring that he stays in stasis while I¡¯m too busy to experiment. Still, I¡¯ll need you to be on high alert. All of you. Someone placed him here, and evidently for a purpose that they¡¯d prefer I remain unaware.¡±


    ¡°Huh? What¡¯s the point in that? You¡¯re just gonna notice everything before me anyway,¡± said the fox.


    She narrowed her eyes in suspicion as she watched the man for a response. Though she had nothing against doing him the occasional favour, she wasn¡¯t inclined to step in if he didn¡¯t have a good excuse for slacking off. She knew just as well as everyone else that the old man was lazy, and that he was the type to enjoy a nap over whatever task he was assigned.


    ¡°Normally, I would, yes,¡± he put his hat back on his head and squished it against his hair, ¡°but I¡¯ve had a lot on my plate lately. I suspect the catgirls are at war again, or experiencing some sort of duress. Many are gaining levels at an abnormal rate, and I have my hands full just managing all of their logs.¡±


    Sylvia flopped onto the floor like a deflated dog. ¡°Why don¡¯t you just let the system handle that like a normal person? Errmmm¡­ demigod or celestial thingy or whatever.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± he slammed his fist on an invisible table made of vectors as he shouted. ¡°Catgirls are the embodiment of perfection, and each deserves my personal care and attention. How else will they know how much they¡¯re loved, if I refrain from filling their logs with praise?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense. They¡¯re needy, and many are anxious if not reaffirmed of their decisions. You should know that. Your mind is configured to be the same way.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Al. I know I have a problem,¡± griped the fed-up fox. ¡°Thanks for reminding me that it¡¯s all your fault.¡±


    ¡°Trust me, Sylvia. It¡¯s better this way, fetishes or not. You¡¯ll understand, one day.¡±


    ¡°Stop being cryptic and explain already!¡± she snarled. ¡°You know I hate it when you do that!¡±


    Blowing from his pipe, he chuckled again, slowly, deliberately. ¡°I was alluding to romance, dear child. The traits I¡¯ve bestowed will serve you greatly, when you finally feel the need to find yourself a mate.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Sylvia deflated again, collapsing with her limbs sprawled. ¡°That¡¯s what you meant. Of course it was.¡±


    Though the man often insisted that reproduction was a key part of the circle of life, Sylvia had never quite felt the urges that plagued most Llystletein foxes. Her half-elven instincts dulled and desynced her heat cycles. She hardly even noticed them, regardless of how the others behaved. Still, Alfred often tried to push the idea on her. Supposedly, it was because he wanted her to live a normal, healthy life, but she found that hard to believe. She was ultimately the product of a union he had permitted as an experiment, and she saw no reason for him to think of her as an extension thereof.


    ¡°If you¡¯re having trouble, I¡¯d be glad to offer my assistance. I can bless you with any number of fetishes, and as you happen to be of the fairer sex, I¡¯ll even be kind enough to let you choose.¡±


    ¡°No thanks.¡± The vixen got up on all fours and stretched like a cat. ¡°So is there anything else you wanted to talk to me about? Or can I go now? I was really looking forward to eating that turtle fish.¡±


    Alfred stroked his beard with each hand in turn. ¡°I think that should be it. You¡¯re free to go, so long as you remember to keep up your guard.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Al. I got it.¡± Sylvia bid him farewell with a wave of the tail before closing her eyes, humming a tune, and returning to the ocean. After checking on Claire with the terminal strapped to her wrist, and confirming that she had already killed the lord, she quickly chased down the nearest turtle, consumed it in one bite, and made her way up towards the surface.


    If Alfred was worried, then she doubted she would hold any agency in the events soon to unfold. Still, she would do as asked and keep an eye out. A hostile god was exactly what she needed, assuming it was truly in the cards.

 Chapter 121 - Two Blades and a Tail II

    Chapter 121 - Two Blades and a Tail II


    Claire spent the next few days moving between the chasm and the maze. As much as she wanted to focus on the former, she found that there was no reason to spend all her time beneath the waves. The lord of the depths would only be replaced once every three hours; the mandatory lapse was just long enough for her to plough through Crabby Crags and cut down the eel that was its ruler. At night, she would return not to the beach, but the savannah. Though the sand was always warm and welcoming, a flame by the shore was much easier to spot than one obscured by tall grass, and the last thing she wanted was to be found.


    ¡°I want to eat meat.¡±


    It was on the third night that she voiced the complaint. Dropping a fistfull of half-eaten pseudo wheat into the flames, she rubbed her midsection with her tail and grumbled aloud. She had no idea why, but something in her lower body, likely a second stomach, was screaming for a fleshier, bloodier meal. The urge was so powerful that even Sylvia was starting to look like a juicy steak with a tail.


    ¡°Huh? Where¡¯d that come from?¡± The potential meal sitting by the flame raised her head from a large fish and tilted it like a confused puppy. ¡°And can¡¯t you just summon some?¡±


    The sea creature she was devouring was only one of the many she had prepared for her evening meal. There were three fleshless skeletons lying in the grass and another five live victims in the bubbles floating around her. The dull-witted creatures showed no signs of discontent or panic, even though their compatriots were being eaten right before their eyes.


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    She scrolled through Llystletein Authority¡¯s menu, but found nothing of interest. None of the thirty odd items recently added did anything to whet her appetite, so she settled on the most expensive option she could afford. She had no idea how a Monopus Mushroom Steak¡î was meant to taste, or why it cost 10000MP, but something about the final descriptor in its name had raised her expectations.


    ¡°What did you pick?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Seafood. You can have some.¡±


    The fox¡¯s ears perked up immediately, even though she had already eaten far more than her fair share. ¡°I can¡¯t wait! What kind is it?¡±


    ¡°Steak.¡±


    ¡°Steak? That sounds tas¡ª¡± Sylvia¡¯s tail suddenly went stiff. ¡°Wait a second!¡± She scampered through the air and got right in the lyrkress¡¯ face. Their noses were so close that they almost touched. ¡°You didn¡¯t kill one of the sea cows when I wasn¡¯t watching, did you!? How could you, Claire? They¡¯re so cute!¡±


    Rolling her eyes, the lyrkress grabbed the furball by the nape, repositioned her at a reasonable distance, and wiped the spit off her face with her tail. ¡°I didn¡¯t. Stop panicking. And don¡¯t spit on me. Or I¡¯ll use your tail next time.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Oops. Sorry,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°And there¡¯s nothing wrong with me killing them in the first place.¡±


    ¡°Claire!¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re tasty. Even your mother said so.¡±


    ¡°B-but sea cows are friends! Not food!¡±


    ¡°They can be both. No one¡¯s ever said that friends can¡¯t be food.¡±


    Sylvia¡¯s face shifted rapidly between disbelief, suspicion, and horror as she backed off, one small step at a time. Despite all her caution, she tripped the moment the lyrkress magically tugged on one of her feet, an event that left her squeaking in terror and her assailant cackling with glee.


    ¡°I was joking.¡± Claire squeezed out a response as she leaned on a nearby tree and caught her breath. It¡¯s monopus steak.¡±


    ¡°O-oh¡­ thank goodness.¡± Sylvia made an attempt to plop onto her stomach, but she was reeled into the half-moose¡¯s hands and made into a hat before she hit the grass. ¡°Wait¡­ monopus? It¡¯s a fish steak?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never tried it.¡±


    ¡°If it is, then I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be really tasty.¡± Claire¡¯s headdress began to salivate, but unlike the last time, the fuzzy hat managed to catch itself in the act. It covered its face with its paw just quickly enough to save its wearer from a bad hair day.


    ¡°Lesson learned.¡± said Claire, as she removed it. ¡°I won¡¯t talk about seafood while you¡¯re on my head anymore.¡±


    ¡°Hey! I didn¡¯t even drool on you that time!¡±


    ¡°Still too close for comfort. Dog drool smells bad.¡±


    ¡°For the last time! I¡¯m not a dog, I¡¯m a fox!¡± The very annoyed furball heaved a sigh. ¡°Oh, whatever. You know what? I just won¡¯t be a fox anymore.¡±


    She stood up on her hind legs and went through the usual process of glowing as she began to change shape. Claire thought nothing of it until a certain idea passed through her head. A small grin appeared on her face as she focused on her eyes and froze the fox. It was a calculated assault, made with picture perfect knowledge of one of the pet¡¯s typical habits.


    Unlike the lyrkress, who made adjustments to her posture as she changed forms, Sylvia would only begin to move after she finished.


    ¡°Claaaaiiire!¡± The annoyed shout came after a thud; the fairy had wound up with her body pitched forward and her forehead planted in the dirt. ¡°What the heck!¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You paralyzed me!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Claire blinked, innocently as she could. ¡°Don¡¯t blame me for everything. It¡¯s not my fault you tripped.¡±


    ¡°Yes it is!¡± The fairy stamped her feet in the air before flying up to the lyrkress¡¯ nose and pinching its tip between her hands.


    ¡°Ow.¡±


    Sylvia paused for a moment to blink. She couldn¡¯t quite figure out if she was meant to trust or scrutinize the cry of pain. On one hand, she had enacted the fairy equivalent of a small fox bite, but on the other, Claire¡¯s cry had not even the slightest hint of annoyance. Combined with her abnormal pain tolerance, there seemed to be a compelling argument that she was just faking it.


    ¡°Hmph!¡± Giving up, the pixie crossed her arms and pouted. ¡°That¡¯s what you get for bullying me.¡±


    ¡°Fine. I won¡¯t anymore.¡±


    ¡°Wait, really?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Claire grabbed her tiny fox-tailed friend, and seated her on her ice spike. ¡°Is it too cold?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Sylvia leapt off the chilly ledge as soon as it touched her rear. ¡°I¡¯m gonna freeze my butt off if I sit on that!¡±


    The blueblood rolled her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s not that cold. You¡¯d lose your tail at worst.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯m definitely never sitting there!¡± She hugged the fuzzy appendage to her chest, as if to keep it away from a poacher. ¡°I love my tail!¡±


    ¡°Is your tail fuzzier? Or mi¡ª¡±


    Claire froze before she could finish. The voice she had been awaiting finally echoed through her mind.


    Log Entry 3182


    Basic Force Resistance has reached level 20.


    Log Entry 3183


    The Basic Force Resistance skill has evolved into Force Resistance.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire?¡± Sylvia waved her arms in front of the half-lamia¡¯s eyes. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°I got it,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°Got what?¡±


    ¡°Force resistance. Basic force resistance finally evolved.¡±


    ¡°Oh! That means you can finally fly like everyone else!¡± She twirled through the air and rose to twice the half-cervitaur¡¯s height. The magical pixie dust that drifted off her nonexistent wings kept her every bit as illuminated as the flame.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± said Claire, with her brow furrowed.


    Force Resistance - Level 1


    The first force that most mages notice and experiment with is the fundamental force of gravity. Through its manipulation, they learn control and restraint. You, on the other hand, have never once entertained the concept of restraint, nor are you intelligent enough to care much for fine control. Instead, you have spent your efforts on maximising your lethality through a class meant for utility, a foolish endeavour that has resulted in little beyond the ability to tear an anuran in two. Reconsidering your approach is advised.


    P.S. You¡¯re taking too long to ascend.


    Shut up, Box. I¡¯m trying my best.


    Effects


    - Gravity affects you as you will it.


    - The damage that you take from force magic is reduced by 22% (20% + 2% per level.)


    A small smile crossed her face as she looked over the entry not once but twice. It had been a long time since she last tasted the box¡¯s snark, and frankly, it was refreshing. She was sure that she would have missed it more, had it ever done anything beyond blatantly insulting her. I need to stop praying to her.


    Log Entry 3184


    You have received a divine revelation:


    No you don¡¯t.


    Your opinion is irrelevant.


    ¡°So? How does this work?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°It¡¯s really simple!¡± Sylvia did a loop through the air. ¡°All you have to do is make it so the big force keeping you stuck to the ground is gone. Or pulling you in some other direction, that works too.¡±


    ¡°You need to work on your explanations,¡± muttered Claire, under her breath.


    ¡°Hey! What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°It means that you make no sense.¡±


    ¡°I make lots of sense. I know it sounds weird, but I promise it¡¯s not! You just need to try it.¡±


    ¡°After I eat.¡±


    Log Entry 3185


    Llystletein Authority has reached level 9.


    The meal finished taking shape as Flux¡¯s voice resounded through her head. Claire had to scramble to grab the plate before it fell onto the ground. Its balance was skewed by the large skewer set on top of it. Three quarters of the sword-sized implement was covered with the flesh of what she presumed to be a monopus, cut into pieces that even a giant would struggle to call bite-sized. Each of the sickly white lumps was covered with seasonings and roasted until lightly charred. It was fragrant, and almost wonderfully so. A flick of the tongue was all she needed to know that it would be the first authority dish that she didn¡¯t despise.


    ¡°Wow¡­¡± Sylvia gulped. ¡°That looks really tasty.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°Maybe.¡± She gripped the skewer¡¯s base with her tail and kept it steady as she took a small bite off the top. A frown crossed her face as she worked her sharpened teeth through the extra chewy flesh. Though present, the upside down smile did little to stop her from returning it to her mouth.


    ¡°Well?¡± The fox¡¯s tail flicked from left to right as slobber dripped from her mouth. ¡°How is it? Good? Really good?¡±


    ¡°Not as bad as I thought.¡±


    The rogue grabbed the piece of meat she had already started eating and ripped it off the skewer. The three remaining were presented to her companion, who dug in right away. She was so eager that she didn¡¯t even take the skewer. She ate it right out of Claire¡¯s tail, like a kitten starving for a treat.


    ¡°Wits shuper twisty.¡± Sylvia licked her lips like a ravenous wolf and took a second bite before swallowing the first.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡±


    The taste vaguely reminded Claire of Amereth¡¯s cooking. Like everything else she had summoned, it was still on the blander side, lacking the complex flavour profile she was looking for. But at the very least, it was more than just the sum of its ingredients.


    ¡°Really? I think it¡¯s amazing.¡±


    ¡°Even an average chef from the Ryllian can make something a thousand times better than this.¡±


    ¡°Wow¡­¡± Sylvia stopped eating for a moment, just to drool. ¡°We should go there.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± The bluescale took a deep breath. ¡°It¡¯s far from Cadria. But maybe not far enough.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    Claire closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ okay. I guess you can tell me when you feel like it,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°N¡ª¡± The half-lamia stopped herself short of finishing the sentence. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and magically booped the fox¡¯s nose. ¡°Okay. I will.¡±


    Sylvia¡¯s jaws ground to a halt. Eyes wide, she slowly raised her head from her meal and stopped to stare. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Only if you stop asking. Now hurry up and eat. I want to try flying.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah! That¡¯ll be lots of fun.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    Exchanging only a few more words, the halfbreeds got on with their meal and tucked away the rest of the monopus¡¯ meat. Sylvia had a much larger meal than her lyrkrian companion, but she remained the first to finish. It took her only a few bites to mow her way through each submarine creature. Claire, on the other hand, practically nibbled at the meat, taking only small bites, as a well mannered noble lady should.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to start,¡± she said, as she swallowed the final piece.


    ¡°Good luck!¡±


    Full and content, the vector mage closed her eyes and focused on the force tethering her to the floating island. The vector was constant, universal. Something about its presence made her feel small, miniscule, like a tiny, insignificant speck dotted across an infinite horizon.


    Severing her tie to it was like leaping into the deep end, taking a step into the unknown. A sense of unease welled up from within as she approached the edge and stared into the void. But she didn¡¯t stop. Gripping the concept in her mind, she tore it away and negated the call that kept her grounded.


    At first, it didn¡¯t feel like much had changed. Her body didn¡¯t immediately start to float, nor did she find herself blown away by the howling winds. Only when she tried to stand up did the effects truly manifest.


    To her surprise, she wound up not just getting to her feet but also slowly rising through the air. She flailed her arms and legs in an attempt to get back down, but her momentum was unaffected, save for when she accidentally smacked her tail against the ground. The impact threw her into a tailspin that came to an end only when she grabbed a nearby branch.


    ¡°You can¡¯t swim in the air, silly!¡± Sylvia giggled as she watched the lyrkress flop about. ¡°You need to move yourself with magic.¡±


    ¡°I hate this already.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on. It¡¯s not even that bad.¡± Sylvia floated up to her face and turned upside down, just so they could see eye to eye. ¡°See? You just have to get the hang of it.¡±


    ¡°Stop showing off.¡± Claire prodded the fox-elf¡¯s cheek with her feather duster.


    ¡°I¡¯m just trying to help!¡±


    ¡°Trying and doing are different things.¡±


    Claire stuck out her arms and tried to reorient herself as she continued to ascend, slowly, a little bit at a time, like a runaway balloon. Spinning was hard without anything to grab ahold of, but not as impossible as she had initially imagined. All it took to fix her posture was to grab her head with her tail and pull on it until it returned to an upright position. Her body threatened to continue pitching backwards, but she nullified her momentum by transferring it to a random piece of ice, freshly formed in her hand.


    Log Entry 3186


    Vector Manipulation has reached level 35.


    ¡°Want me to tell you the trick?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°All you hav-wait¡­ what? You don¡¯t?¡± Sylvia blinked before crossing her arms, puffing out her cheeks, and turning . ¡°Er, I mean¡­ umm¡­ hmph! I wasn¡¯t going to tell you anyway!¡±


    Claire smiled as she pulled the fairy into her hands and poked her on the nose. ¡°Let me try it for myself first.¡±


    ¡°If I let you try it for yourself, then you¡¯re just gonna get mad at me, call me useless, and complain that I didn¡¯t tell you what to do sooner!¡±


    The accused averted her eyes. She couldn¡¯t deny that it was a very real possibility. ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± Not without lying, at least.


    ¡°Promise?¡±


    ¡°Promise.¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence as one halfbreed narrowed her eyes suspiciously and the other put on a poker face.


    ¡°Really?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Really,¡± confirmed her owner.


    ¡°You owe me another steak if you end up lying!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I won¡¯t,¡± said Claire. ¡°I want to eat it too. It¡¯s less disgusting than everything else.¡±


    ¡°Oh, and you¡¯ll never be allowed to call me useless ever again!¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t happening.¡±


    ¡°What the heck! At least say you won¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t make promises I can¡¯t keep.¡±


    It was another blatant lie. To be a member of the nobility was to sit on a throne of false promises. The lykress was no different; her father had frequently given her personal lessons in the art of social warfare, as to ensure that she would never embarrass him at a public venue.


    ¡°Claaaaaaaaaaaiiireee!¡±


    The fairy flew up to the other girl¡¯s face and lightly drummed the bottom of her fists against her forehead. The blows were soft, light enough to be outright dismissed.


    ¡°Stop that. It tickles.¡± Laughing, Claire caught the tiny half-fox out of the air and seated her on the palm of her hand. ¡°If I can¡¯t figure it out, and your advice doesn¡¯t help, then I¡¯m going to keep calling you useless forever.¡±


    ¡°What!? No! You can¡¯t! That¡¯s just cruel!¡±


    ¡°Too bad,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°Now shush. Let me focus.¡±


    Freezing her ears and ignoring the complaints that followed, Claire closed her eyes and directed her focus inward. Little by little, she weakened her resistance until she started to fall, only to strengthen it again before she hit the ground. From there, she kicked off the floating island and repeated the process until she was able to spend most of her time upright.


    That was when she started playing with the force, tweaking its values and altering her momentum. Rising and falling were the basics, but she was able to do far more than just that. Moving it in front of her let her pull herself forward, and placing it to her rear provided a means of retreat. Balance was only a problem until she recalled that she had a tail. The long, scaly extension allowed her to circumvent all the difficulties involved.


    Before long, she was cruising through the air, flying around the sky as naturally as would her four-legged companion. The experiment was a success, but she was left unsatisfied. Though her maximum speed was rather impressive, the acceleration was gradual, and as a whole, it was unwieldy. Adjusting her trajectory was difficult; she had to offload her momentum if she wanted to change directions on the fly. The usual vector manipulation-based flight was far more explosive and intuitive. As far as combat went, she was convinced that she was best off sticking to her guns.


    Maybe I should ask the useless fox.


    Claire dismissed the notion as soon as she turned to Sylvia, who perked and brightened up upon sensing the other girl¡¯s gaze. She wasn¡¯t about to make her day for no reason, not if it meant raising the white flag.


    Silently, she tore her gaze away, ignored the deflated furball, and got right back to experimenting with her newest acquisition. She was tired, but she wanted to get the hang of making sudden turns before turning in for the night.

 Chapter 122 - Two Blades and a Tail III

    Chapter 122 - Two Blades and a Tail III


    After finishing her experiments and curling up under a tree, Claire opened her eyes to find the usual sea of clouds. Her mind had once again been ripped from its vessel and placed within the fortress that had always been her home.


    Nightly excursions were already the norm, and she had expected to see the dreamscape the moment she set her mind to sleeping. It had long become another boring sight tainted with the poison of familiarity.


    It was precisely that familiarity that tipped her off. A sense of malaise struck her as she wheeled around and scanned her surroundings. There was a peculiar aura about the place, and not just because the manor¡¯s floors were steeped in blood.


    All of the obvious things looked to be in order. The gardens were perfectly arranged, the mansion was spick and span, and even the training grounds were free of fresh stains. Likewise, the backdrop was also in perfect order. She could see in the night sky all the stars that lay above Cadria. The constellations that denoted the gods and their servants were in full bloom, glimmering as they would on any summer day. No matter how far she looked, she found nothing out of the ordinary, but her senses were screaming that something was awry. Her raised scales refused to return to their natural state, ignoring her as she ordered them to abide by her commands.


    ¡°It¡¯s a dream. Nothing¡¯s meant to make sense.¡±


    Her tension slowly drained as the words left her mouth. She began to walk down the hall, taking slow, dignified steps with each echoing throughout the manor. Her back was kept straight and her head was held high, as if to prove that she was unbothered by the occasional meow that leaked from within the walls. She couldn¡¯t get over them, but neither was she startled enough to react. They had persisted for over a week and she was already desensitized; she was confident that she could maintain her poker face so long as she wasn¡¯t blatantly harassed in person.


    The clear night sky faded into a wall of mist as she moved from window to window. Sudden as it was, the transition was not an unusual occurrence. Every day, the manor would pass through a dozen clouds. It was as ordinary a sight as a flower blowing in the breeze. And yet, it was accompanied by a chill, a shiver that pulsed down her spine, the same offputting sensation she felt when the dream began. But again, she shrugged it off and continued to wander.


    Her feet were eventually drawn towards the courtyard, out into the all-obscuring shroud that wrapped her in dew. After walking through a number of foggy banks, she came across a large round table, shared by a person and three empty chairs.


    One of the seats pulled itself out from under the table as she approached. Seeing no reason to refuse, she sat down and faced the familiar goddess.


    ¡°Good evening, Box.¡±


    ¡°My name is not ¡®Box,¡¯ Claire.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±


    Flux¡¯s star-speckled locks shook as she chuckled. When her cheeks flushed, so too did one of the galaxies. Claire was almost certain she saw one of the glowing suns burst into a ball of fire a hundred times its previous size. ¡°You¡¯ve made a lot of progress for someone so inept.¡± The goddess leaned forward and smiled, wide enough for her dimples to show. Her scaly arms were placed atop the table, while her eyes stayed focused on the lyrkress. ¡°At this rate, it will only take you another three lifetimes to become a goddess.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes into a momentary glare before reverting to her poker face. ¡°You¡¯re not very good at giving compliments.¡±


    ¡°It was honest praise,¡± said the deity. ¡°This is the first time you¡¯ve made any meaningful progress in seven incarnations, very impressive, given that you are presently at your most foolish.¡± A soft smile fluttered across her face, just long enough to distract from the star shooting across the galaxy in her eyes. ¡°Still, it is not as difficult as is often relayed. You require only five additional ascensions. Simply do as you have, until you abscond your mortal coil.¡±


    ¡°Even my father is stuck on his fourth,¡± said the deadpan lyrkress, ¡°and he¡¯s over five hundred years old.¡±


    Flux raised her head, as if to look beyond the great wall of mist that kept the heavens obscured. ¡°If Vella is capable of it, then it is possible for anyone, no matter how mindless or incompetent.¡± The clouds cleared away when she got up from the table and walked around the dreamscape, revealing not the sky above Cadria, but a massive temple, made of stone. One by one, the goddess ascended the steps, with the mortal following silently behind her.


    ¡°There is one thing that you must be aware of.¡± When she turned to face the halfbreed again, her lips were curled up into a frown. The swirling stars in her eyes were focused on her; she stared for several seconds before opening her mouth to speak. ¡°Chaos is not a force to be trifled with.¡± A tiny golden conflagration appeared in the palm of her hand. It remained stable, until it was suddenly dyed in a mix of reds and blacks. ¡°But neither is it as harmful as it is so often made out to be. It can be mastered, harnessed, and controlled.¡±


    The lyrkress couldn¡¯t pull her gaze from the flame. Something about it seemed to keep her focus. It was maddening, enticing, sparking within her a primal urge whose presence she had been unaware. It was almost like the catgirl curse, only warmer, more welcoming. It wasn¡¯t a foreign element that had reacted to the strange power, but something deep inside, something that belonged to her.


    ¡°But that is if, and only if you remain its master. You cannot lose yourself to it.¡± The talking box of a goddess clenched her fist and reduced the ember to ashes, and ended the moose¡¯s trance.


    Slowly, Claire brought a hand to her face and steadied her breath. The concept the goddess had mentioned was one that even an uneducated hick would know. As former mortals themselves, the gods were subject to their pitfalls and failings, which was to say that they were organised into a pair of opposing factions.


    Led by the goddess of order were the various divines that believed first and foremost in systems and rules. Their worshipers often endeavoured to remain within the bounds defined by the powers that came before them. Gods of chaos believed instead in a laissez-faire approach. True to its name, the more spontaneous faction lacked a leader, or at least one that was officially recognized. Its members¡¯ whims drove its direction, often randomly and with no sense of congruence. As a whole, the group was unified only as the opposition that stood against Flitzegarde and her followers.


    Though diametrically opposed, the cliques were more broad categorizations than they were a way to denote parties in an ongoing conflict. There were gods frequently described in both or neither, and the two groups were often depicted together in the same space. They existed more so to represent schools of thought than they did true bastions of power. It had long been prophesied that they would one day wage a devastating war, but while smaller conflicts did occasionally arise, the foretold world-ending battle showed no signs of stirring.


    ¡°Are you telling me to learn wild magic?¡± asked Claire. The school that the frog had employed was a true embodiment of chaos, a freakish, unchained power whose output often simultaneously failed and exceeded both the most conservative and wild estimates.


    ¡°You may indeed lack just the right number of brain cells to put it to use, but I am not, and I would never.¡± With a slow shake of the head and a small smirk, Flux turned around and resumed her trek up the seemingly infinite staircase. ¡°You will soon understand.¡±


    ¡°Explain. Now.¡±


    The demand was answered with silence. She didn¡¯t speak until the steps came to an abrupt end. ¡°There is another matter I wished to address, and we lack the time I would require to elaborate.¡±


    Revealed before them was an altar adorned with corpses. Deer-horned rabbits, bloody slimes shaped like rats, horned cats, winged canines, and people of all races were strewn atop its steps. Dead, with their eyes gouged and their hearts removed.


    ¡°Beware of the promised hunter. Steer clear of Kael¡¯ahruus¡¯ temples and shy away from his clergymen.¡±


    She looked towards the beast that lurked on the other side of the heavenly platform. Its frame was obscured in shadow, but its piercing yellow eyes grabbed her attention and forced her focus.


    ¡°Ascending will become far more difficult if he sets his sights on you. His pursuit is every bit as eternal as the holy books claim.¡±


    Not waiting for a response, Flux slowly stepped towards the halfbreed. She almost seemed to grow as she approached; her head rose with every step she took. Only after the distance was closed did Claire realise that it was not the goddess, but she who was changed. She was back in her humanoid form; her lyrkrian parts were gone, save for the ones that were most aesthetically pleasing.


    The goddess raised her arms and wrapped them against the bloodthief¡¯s shoulders. For a brief moment, that was how she stayed. On the count of three, her body turned to dust, a fine mist of golden particles that vanished into the night. The temple went with her. It was turned into a thick mist that vanished with the wind, leaving only the manor behind.


    When she blinked again, she found that it was already morning. The sun was high in the sky and Sylvia was already in the midst of chewing on a fresh monopus. Even some of the sea cows were present and flopping around, as they always did, on dry land.. How did they get up here? Only one of them can fly.


    Her ears twitching, the fox turned towards the freshly awakened lyrkress and waved. ¡°Claire! You¡¯re finally up! Good morning!¡±


    ¡°Stop shouting. Not so early.¡±


    The blueblood got to her feet and switched her nightgown for her usual armour. On any other morning, that would have sufficed, but she decided to take it a step further. A cloth mask obscured the bottom half of her face, while a pair of clips were used to keep her ears hidden in her hair. The only defining traits she retained were her distinctly reptilian eyes.


    ¡°Oh, come on! It¡¯s not early! It¡¯s not even morning anymore. Noon was like two hours ago.¡±


    ¡°Early.¡± Claire magically pinched the fox¡¯s nose, walked to the island¡¯s edge, and looked over.


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    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire? Where are you going? Aren¡¯t you going to have breakfast?¡±


    ¡°Later. I¡¯m not hungry.¡±


    Frederick had informed her, during a brief check in, that her gear would take him two days to prepare. It had been three since then. He was confident, but she had given him an extra twenty four hours of leeway, just in case.


    ¡°Oh, okay! I¡¯ll be done in just a second!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Don¡¯t rush. You can meet me by the cliff. The one that leads back to Mirewood Meadow.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t wanna.¡± Her jaws unhinged, she swallowed the rest of the one-armed octopus in a single bite before leaping at Claire and winding up in her arms. ¡°I¡¯m just going to get bored if I have to sit around and wait. It¡¯s gonna take you forever to finish talking to him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to talk to him. I¡¯ll leave as soon as he gives me my stuff.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right!¡± The furball raised her head, as if asking for a scratch. She repeated the action twice, speaking up again only as the demand was fulfilled. ¡°You guys are gonna end up chatting about something random, and you know it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Still holding the fox to her retracted chest spike, Claire fell towards the citadel. She adjusted her trajectory only once, when she closed in on the goblin¡¯s forge. Most of its guests were gone, but the workplace was even noisier than it was during her first visit. Muffled bangs and clangs wormed their way through the cloth covering her ears and resounded throughout the back of her mind. Individually, their patterns were rhythmic, but there were far too many of them echoing in tandem for it to be anything but a mess of haphazard noise.


    Log Entry 3187


    Force Resistance has reached level 2.


    Getting closer revealed that there were six furnaces lit, with anywhere between one and three individuals working at each. The goblin was not in the workshop, but tracking him was no difficult feat. Her detector skill pointed her straight towards a room on the second floor.


    Unlike her previous method, her newfound approach to flight allowed for a slower, more controlled descent. She was able to silently approach the window and investigate the other side while her companion shrunk and put on the bracelet that was her dress.


    ¡°Arrived, you have.¡± Frederick swiveled around in his chair before she could crawl through the opening. He took a moment to furrow his brow and glance at the window frame before sighing and waving her in. ¡°Expected two days before. Thought you no patient wait longer, so finished early me did.¡±


    ¡°Hi Fred!¡± said Sylvia.


    Returning the greeting with an off-handed wave, he walked over to the furthest wall and grabbed a pair of items off its lower-middle shelf. Though he had his back turned, his frame did little to obscure the metal from her view. Most of it was hidden, wrapped in leather or cloth, but the shiny bits that showed through were so well polished that it was difficult to believe that they had been made from the monster she defeated.


    ¡°Follow, show to testing ground, me will. Give no here, break much things.¡± He walked out the door and down the hall as he pointed the way with his chin.


    ¡°What did you ask him for again?¡± Sylvia spoke at a whisper as she curiously glanced at the weaponry. One of the two was obviously something mounted on a large pole, but the other was contained in a bag. There was no way to tell what it was at a glance.


    ¡°A spear,¡± said Claire. ¡°And a dagger.¡±


    The tiny elf landed on her club and leaned on the side of her head. ¡°Oh yeah! That¡¯s what they were! That¡¯s what I thought, but I kept thinking I was wrong because of how much you like axes.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like axes.¡±


    There was an awkward moment of silence. After a brief delay, it culminated in Sylvia scratching her head right as they rounded the corner and moved down a flight of steps. ¡°You don¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then why do you keep using one?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    It was the honest truth. She had only turned her club into an axe because an axe was effectively just a club with a sharpened edge. That wasn¡¯t to say that she was partial to maces; that particular choice was yet another product of happenstance. She had only held onto the femur for as long as she did because it was the most durable thing she found.


    ¡°Take now,¡± said Frederick, as he stepped into the forge¡¯s yard. It was a training ground. There were dummies made of various materials strewn all over the grass, with some more intact than others. Not all of them were clothed, but those that were wore armour. There was no consistency to the variety; she saw treated silk, hard metal plates, and just about everything in between. Some pieces were even made of bones, with whole cleaned ribcages layered directly overtop the Frederick-shaped dolls. ¡°Start spear.¡±


    The goblin unravelled the cloth around the weapon¡¯s tip as he presented it to her, revealing an intricate blade with two jagged points. The first, of course, was its sharpened end. Located at the front of the two-meter long polearm was a keen point atop a wide, flat blade. A large hook protruded from the base of its edge. Unlike the weapon¡¯s furthest extremity, it was directed back towards its wielder. The top of the arching arm was thinned and sharpened like a knife. Opposite the curved organ-ripper was a thick widened end resembling the head of a hammer, its face studded with a series of tiny sharpened spikes.


    ¡°Woah! What the heck is that?¡± asked a wide-eyed fairy. ¡°It¡¯s super wonky.¡±


    Claire had to agree with the pixie¡¯s confusion. The creation was an abomination whose purpose was vague at best. Though it was impossible to deny its top-heavy nature, she found that she didn¡¯t particularly mind its weight. The full metal weapon remained light enough in her hands for it to be easy to manipulate. There was only one problem.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a spear,¡± said Claire.


    The corresponding mastery skill was inactive. Wielding the weapon provided none of the bonuses that she was meant to have, and the theory behind its various uses didn¡¯t suddenly pop into her mind the moment she touched.


    ¡°Is halberd,¡± grunted the goblin. ¡°Fit you better, lassie.¡±


    ¡°I asked for a spear.¡±


    ¡°Ask for spear, get halberd. Is no issue.¡±


    The lyrkress paused for a moment to fight back the urge to roll her eyes. ¡°Fine.¡± She wasn¡¯t entirely against picking up the associated mastery skill, assuming the man¡¯s judgement was correct.


    She extended a hand and waited for the goblin to hand her the other weapon, but the only thing he offered was a raise of the brow. After a moment of confusion, he brought a hand to his face and pointed at the field of mock-soldiers.


    ¡°Try first, then me give dagger. Need see if need adjust and no real swing yet.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try it later. Alone.¡±


    Frederick crossed his arms and tapped his foot against the ground. ¡°Try no later. Try now, while me watching or no can fix.¡±


    Claire glared at him, but approached a target nonetheless. ¡°Stupid stubborn old man.¡± From the glint in his eyes alone, she could tell that the craftsman would refuse to compromise. A part of her simply wanted to walk away, but he owed her another weapon, and she had no intention of giving it up over something so trivial.


    Raising the blade overhead, she carved it through the air and slashed a dummy made of straw. Its scalemail did little to protect it, the tiny chain links shattered and crumbled as she blew through them with brute force.


    Nodding to himself and muttering something about ratios, Frederick appeared next to her and took the blade. She didn¡¯t even have time to resist before it was stolen right out of her hands. He ran a finger along its edge and nodded to himself as he mumbled under his breath. ¡°Is no heavy enough, need bigger. Is bad weight distribution, swing no like expected. Remove tenderizer too, sad.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± said Claire. She reached for the weapon, but he twisted it away from her.


    ¡°Need fix. Come again in half day.¡±


    ¡°I want to leave now.¡±


    ¡°Leave then, me no stop you.¡±


    ¡°With the spear,¡± she said.


    ¡°Allow no, me fix.¡±


    Again, she reached for it, but the goblin was faster than her; the weapon slipped away every time her fingers brushed against it. She tried grabbing it with a spell, but her magic failed to remedy the issue. Not even her most powerful vector could remove it from his one-handed grip. He stood his ground with ease and even flashed a bit of a grin.


    ¡°Come later for spear, next try dagger.¡±


    Completely nonchalant, he threw her the leather bag he had in his other hand. She thought it was a bit of a strange vessel for something that was meant to be a short blade, but she understood as soon as she caught it. The bag clinked, as would one full of gold and silver. When she opened it, she found a pair of sharp knives accompanied by a long chain. Each individual link was inscribed with an identical rune, with the total length coming to something in the realm of a meter.


    The blades themselves were relatively ordinary. Each was long as her forearm and wide as her wrist. They sported beautiful single edges with slight curves and thick unsharpened spines. Like the chains, they were marked with magical engravings. The individual letters looked familiar enough, but their meaning was lost on her. That, however, did nothing to stop her from filling the weapon with her magic and waving both its sharpened ends around.


    ¡°They don¡¯t do anything,¡± she said.


    ¡°Use wrong,¡± chortled the goblin. ¡°Swing only one, no two.¡±


    Claire tilted her head and gave him a stare before deciding to act on his advice. She held one dagger to the side and swung only the other, but the results were unchanged. Again, it behaved exactly as expected, like a normal blade.


    ¡°Use wrong still. Swing no like that!¡± Frederick groaned again and rubbed his head with one hand while yanking the weapon away from her with the other. ¡°Watch, like this.¡±


    Holding one blade in in a reverse grip, he swung the other like a flail. The dagger reached not only the target directly in front of him, but also the one behind it, courtesy of a freshly extended chain. Its length reset when he pulled it back towards him; in his hands, it looked just as short as it had been when it was unsheathed.


    It¡¯s like a crab claw.


    ¡°Try now, like me,¡± he said.


    She swung one of the blades as soon as she received it and cleaved through a dummy made of straw. Three more targets followed suit, with each at a different distance. When she reeled the weapon back, she stared at it with a curious tilt of the head. Its use was simple. It would drain her magical energy whenever it grew and discharge it upon its return. Manually limiting its throughput allowed her to keep it from growing in excess. Adjusting its length was almost alarmingly intuitive; to her confusion, it took no manual thought or effort.


    ¡°Work good,¡± said its creator.


    It was clear that he had preferred one of her two orders, and that it wasn¡¯t the spear. The latter weapon had far more thought put into its structure and balance, and the enchantments built into its chains couldn¡¯t have been anything but an excessive amount of work. She was a little peeved that he had shelved her primary request, but not enough to voice a complaint. The chain blades were superior to everything else she had at her disposal.


    ¡°Come later, will give spear if ready.¡±


    The lyrkress nodded, and said little else as she floated into the air and got ready to depart.


    ¡°Wait, wait! Don¡¯t leave!¡± A familiar plant burst from the doorway with a bang. Her body violently pitched forward as her roots were caught on the steps, but she was caught from behind before she hit the ground.


    ¡°Perhaps it would be in your best interest to proceed with an increase in caution.¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t, Grelly! She was going to leave!¡±


    The jellyfish buzzed to express his disapproval, but said nothing more. Turning to Claire, he launched the long, black object he held in his tentacles. The projectile flew far, but it veered off course and nearly wound up on the building¡¯s roof.


    Magically pulling the sheath into her hands, she raised it to the light and looked it over. It was of a rather simple design, featuring a trio of pockets. The two in front were long and thin, but the one to its rear was wider than both the others combined. It sported a wide mouth, just deep enough to fit the daggers¡¯ chain.


    ¡°Work slow as rock,¡± grumbled the goblin. ¡°Thought never finish.¡±


    ¡°We tried our best, Fred. Three days was really pushing it.¡±


    ¡°See, I told you there was gonna be a bunch of talking,¡± whispered Sylvia.


    ¡°There isn¡¯t. We¡¯re leaving.¡± Nodding at the group, Claire pointed her tail at her back and continued her ascent into the sky.


    ¡°Bye everyone!¡± shouted Sylvia.


    ¡°Wait, come back! Lova needs to talk to you!¡± Myrtle shouted after them, but the lyrkress froze her ears shut. She didn¡¯t know what the bug wanted from her, but if their previous encounter was any indication, it was sure to be nothing but trouble.

 Chapter 123 - Two Blades and a Tail IV

    Chapter 123 - Two Blades and a Tail IV


    ¡°Why are you still a fairy?¡±


    The question was posed after a relatively silent hour spent trekking through the mirewood. The pair progressed at a leisurely pace, with neither letting their feet touch the ground. Claire was floating in the space between the two realms, while Sylvia sat on top of her. For once, she was not on her head, but one of her shoulders. The swap was a function of her form; she had moved after accidentally driving the back of her foot into one of the other girl¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Ummm¡­ I dunno,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I don¡¯t really feel like changing back.¡±


    The claim left the rogue with her eyes narrowed and her ears twitching. Something seemed off; Sylvia clearly preferred her four-legged form and would rarely ever spend any time outside of it unprompted, but while her insistence was suspicious, the rest of her behaviour fell within its usual bounds. At the very least, it was normal enough for Claire to think that it really was related to her mood. The elf was a lot quieter than she was on most days, and her canine parts were jumpy and twitchy. Her ears moved at every sound, no matter how small, and her tail darted to and fro whenever there was silence.


    ¡°I thought you liked being a fox more.¡±


    ¡°I do!¡± said the two-legged forest critter. ¡°Being a fox is way better than being a person. I feel naked without all my fur!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why you wear clothes.¡±


    ¡°I am. Look!¡± Sylvia grabbed one of the other girl¡¯s ears and forced her to turn her head. ¡°But I still feel really weird!¡±


    ¡°Then wear more clothes.¡±


    Sylvia was no longer wearing the dress of leaves that she had made during their beachside excursion. Instead, it had been replaced with a more traditional elven garb, a short silken robe complete with an entirely unnecessary set of coattails. The dress was adorned with plant-based patterns; vines, leaves, and flowers were all imprinted upon the fabric. Each of its tiny details was deliberate, crafted with utmost care and attention.


    ¡°I¡¯d get way too hot if I wore any more than this! It already feels like I¡¯m about to start sweating buckets.¡±


    ¡°I can fix that.¡± Claire emitted a blast of cold air. It wasn¡¯t particularly powerful or intense, just a faint arctic wind.


    ¡°Eek!¡± Sylvia leapt from her seat with a squeak. ¡°That¡¯s too cold!¡±


    ¡°Exactly. Now put on another layer.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t! I don¡¯t just carry a bunch of clothes around, and mine don¡¯t transform like yours do!¡±


    ¡°Then change back.¡± Claire reached for the fairy¡¯s cheeks, but stopped short of touching them. Her arm was quickly retracted back into her cloak, right before the moment of contact.


    ¡°What the heck! Why do you want me to change back so badly?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s weird when you¡¯re not a fox.¡±


    Sylvia looked at herself before tilting her head. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°You seem less like a pet when you¡¯re a person.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re making that sound like that¡¯s a bad thing! I am a person!¡±


    Sylvia flew up to the other girl¡¯s forehead and made an attempt to rap her fists against it, but she was intercepted before she could make contact. Claire poked her in the chin and sent her tumbling through the air with a tiny burst of magic.


    ¡°Petting you feels weird when you¡¯re not a fox. That isn¡¯t something you do to people. Or fairies.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on. It¡¯s not like it even matters. I¡¯m still me.¡±


    ¡°It matters. It¡¯s awkward.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± The half elf put a finger on her chin. ¡°Oh, I know!¡± Her ears and tail twitched as light suddenly enveloped her body. She grew to ten times her previous size, matching the average person in height. The light began to fade, only to brighten once more as she suddenly shrunk back down and regained her four-legged frame. She buried her face in her paws and went deathly silent, not saying a word as torn bits of silk rained down on her still-glowing fur.


    ¡°What were you trying to do?¡± asked Claire.


    Sylvia didn¡¯t answer right away. She continued to keep her face hidden even as she was picked up and moved without permission. It wasn¡¯t until a minute later that she finally lowered one of her forelimbs and slowly began to speak. ¡°I was going to turn into a full-sized elf and give you a hug so I could prove it wouldn¡¯t be weird.¡± Her voice began to trail off as she turned her eyes away. ¡°But I forgot about my dress.¡±


    ¡°I like you better when you have four legs anyway.¡±


    ¡°But I want you to like me no matter how many legs I have!¡±


    Claire smiled before pulling the fox into her hands and playing with her fur. ¡°This would be weird if you were a person,¡± she said, as she fiddled with the fox¡¯s ears. ¡°Very weird.¡±


    ¡°I am a person!¡±


    ¡°People and pets are different.¡±


    ¡°No we¡¯r-uhhhmmm, no they¡¯re not! Uhm¡­ I mean, yes they are! Wait, no, that¡¯s not right either!¡± Sylvia placed both paws on top of her head and shook it from left to right as she tried to sort through her existential crisis. ¡°Whatever! It doesn¡¯t matter! I¡¯m not a pet! And if you don¡¯t believe me, then I¡¯m going to bite you!¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    ¡°Now say it with me! Sylvia is not a pet, she¡¯s a person, and she¡¯s super adorable,¡± chirped the fox.


    ¡°Sylvia is not a pet, she¡¯s my pet. And she¡¯s only adorable when she¡¯s not being annoying.¡±


    ¡°Claaaaairre!¡±


    Only after a few seconds of maintaining her poker face did the lyrkress finally give in to the urge to giggle. ¡°I was joking about half of it.¡±


    ¡°Only half!?¡± Sylvia¡¯s ears shot up as she spun around and looked at her captor with her jaw hanging in disbelief.


    ¡°It really is a little weird when you turn into a fairy, but it¡¯s not as bad as it would be, if you were elf-sized.¡±


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    ¡°But friends hug each other and stuff all the time!¡± said the fairy.


    ¡°Not noble ladies. Or at least not Cadrian ones.¡±


    Alice was the only one of her acquaintances that had ever gotten touchy feely, and even she had grown out of it by her early teens. By centaurian standards, it was improper etiquette, but many other species had the tendency to be more hands on. Claire¡¯s own mother had always been one to give unsolicited hugs, much to the discomfort of those she randomly embraced, and she wasn¡¯t alone. The annexation of Sthenia had led a number of lamian customs to make their way through the ranks of the Cadrian society. The common folk had quickly taken to it as the new norm, but the upper class was less willing to conform. Most dismissed the behaviour as unacceptable, especially when those of the opposite gender were involved.


    ¡°How much further?¡± asked Claire, as she set her thoughts aside.


    ¡°We should be there soon,¡± said Sylvia. She hummed a brief tune before closing her eyes, raising her ears, and leaning back into the lyrkrian chair¡¯s embrace. ¡°Maybe a few more minutes?¡±


    ¡°You said that half an hour ago.¡±


    ¡°I promise we¡¯re actually really close this time!¡±


    Claire tightened her grip on the critter in her arms, not so hard that it would be painful, but just enough to squeeze a tiny bit of air out of her lungs. An annoyed Sylvia opened her mouth, but stopped short of raising her voice. They were both well aware that she would only be teased if she denied the unspoken claim.


    Continuing in silence again, the pair advanced until the world began to distort. As the marsh and meadow grew further apart, they entered a clearing with a large flower planted right at its centre and the surrounding plant life petrified, turned to a brittle white stone. There was a large sphere around the bloom, in which everything, everything, was simply dead. The phenomenon began in the marsh that was the rafflesia¡¯s origin, but its effects spread throughout the forest. Many trees were left at least partially damaged, their canopies and trunks drained of all their life force. Those unlucky enough to be positioned directly above it were eaten all the way down the roots.


    Mirewulves were known to lay dormant during the day, and the lord was no different. It appeared to pay no attention until the pair was almost close enough to touch it. For once, Sylvia hadn¡¯t suddenly vanished. She remained in the other girl''s arms until she was released and allowed to climb back up on her head.


    The false canine stirred when Claire tapped its trunk with the back of her fist, revealing its body in full as it rose to face her. Like all the other lords she had fought, it was more than just a scaled up version of the other members of its species. Its wooden frame was covered in a thick layer of fur that grew only as it woke from its slumber. If not for the occasional bit of wood that poked out from beneath its pelt and the giant flower that was its crown, it would have looked as would a true member of the mammalian order.


    It aggressed immediately by violently snapping its jaws, only to fall face first into the swamp when the magical serpent wrapped around its leg snapped its ankle. When it next opened its eyes, it was greeted by the sight of the lyrkress with a foot on top of its face. It tried to open its mouth to consume her, but she stomped its jaw shut. A casual swipe of the tail detached the monster¡¯s flower, its main body, from the wooden frame that was its weapon.


    Tendrils extended from its blossom, but she warded the blows off with ease and drained the satanic plant of both its life and its magic.


    Log Entry 3188


    You have slain a unique level 172 Llystletein Mirewulf Alpha titled ¡°The Lord of the Holt.¡±


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 5 points of agility


    - 17 points of wisdom


    Log Entry 3189


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Frostblight Lyrkress, has reached level 107.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Bloodthief, has reached level 100.


    You have been awarded the following bonuses for reaching Llystletein Bloodthief¡¯s 50th milestone:


    - 75 points of agility


    - 75 points of dexterity


    - 75 points of strength


    - 75 points of vitality


    - The Severantus¡¯ Call skill


    You have gained 18 ability points.


    Claire worked her hands as she listened to the box¡¯s narration. She grabbed the mirewulf¡¯s various parts and fiddled with them, pressing and squeezing to test their durability. Though they weren¡¯t exactly frail, she didn¡¯t find any of them to be particularly sturdy; the oversized wooden dog was more brittle than its smaller cousins, and none of its parts looked like they could be easily weaponised.


    Log Entry 3190


    You have completed one of ¡°The Lords¡¯ Last Regards¡¯¡± objectives.


    The following objective will remain active for the next 22 days:


    - The Lord of the Slough is slain


    Log Entry 3191


    Manathief has reached level 23.


    Log Entry 3192


    Achievement Unlocked - Same But Different


    You have slain 3 different kinds of unique monsters. You will immediately be promoted to the unique rank if you are reclassified as a monster.


    Is that it?


    Claire waited with a frown, but no additional messages popped into her mind. She had gained a measly two levels, and only because both were already on the verge of crossing the line; vector mage was still only a fifth of the way to its next milestone. Though her secondary class had temporarily outpaced her primary, the former had narrowly regained the lead following the repeated murder of a certain unfortunate eel. Her newest poison was ineffective when administered against the mollusc she had stolen it from, but it worked wonders on its less delicious compatriot. A full frozen bucket¡¯s worth would easily and consistently kill the lord in a matter of moments.


    ¡°Wow, that was anticlimactic,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It didn¡¯t even get to put up a fight!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t play dumb if you¡¯re not going to put in any effort.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked.


    ¡°You would have left if you thought it would take any more than a second.¡±


    ¡°I-I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about!¡± stuttered the vixen.


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°That doesn¡¯t work if you¡®re not good at hiding how you feel.¡±


    ¡°It never works anyway! I know you always know exactly what I¡¯m thinking!¡±


    Shrugging, Claire got up, rinsed the swamp water off her hands, and floated up into the air. ¡°And now, I just have to kill the frog.¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ maybe after you get a little stronger,¡± said Sylvia with a sidelong glance at the mirewulf¡¯s corpse. ¡°I know you killed the lord of the holt really fast, but the frog¡¯s twice ascended.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± She opened her status and glanced at the display. ¡°I¡¯ll try it when I¡¯m 150.¡±


    The goal was still far away, but not so far that it was out of reach. There was no way to say for certain that her evolutions would grant her enough power to take the frog down, but she was fairly confident that they wouldn¡¯t disappoint. Both classes had proven themselves potent so far, and there was no reason for that to suddenly change.


    Her expectations high, she opened up her status and examined her newest acquisition. It was the first brand new skill that she had gotten in quite some time, and her heart was pounding to see its effects unveiled.


    Severantus¡¯ Call


    The slumbering titan known as Severantus was once an aspect of wind. His magical prowess was employed to mask the sound that came with the removal of his beloved¡¯s murderers. Celestial, divine, or otherwise, each target was slain, beheaded in a single strike. You are capable of none of this, and Severantus is well aware. His imprisoned spirit was forced to bear witness to your horrid amateurish attempts at assassination. After being shown your efforts over and over for 100 hours without pause, he eventually agreed to bless you with an ability he once possessed in hopes of it remedying your lack of competence.


    Effects


    - Unheard attacks deal a static 25% increased damage.


    - This skill cannot earn experience. Any that is accrued will be redirected to Assassinate instead.


    Severantus? The character from the children¡¯s story?


    Claire took a moment to contemplate and subsequently dismiss the fictional character¡¯s existence before doing the same with his skill. It wasn¡¯t bad, by any means, but it wouldn¡¯t change the way she behaved. It was entirely passive and its effect was not the sort to be noticed, be it by the assailant or the victim.


    ¡°150 still seems a little early,¡± said Sylvia, her ears drooped.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire.


    The hat opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again soon after. She chose instead to plop her face down on top of the more stubborn halfbreed¡¯s head and fiddle with her ears. ¡°Where do you wanna go next?¡±


    ¡°Down.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right! I almost forgot we were supposed to go to the green belt.¡± Standing up on her hind legs, the fox raised a paw and pointed it towards the horizon. ¡°It should be that way. It¡¯s not that far, and we should get there by the end of the day no problem.¡±


    Claire nodded and sped up, pulling herself forward as quickly as she could go. ¡°But first, I have some unfinished business to attend to.¡±


    She had already decided that the tower would be the first landmark they visited. The first quest Alfred had given her was still left undone, and at the very least, she was itching to see the man¡¯s ravens to their graves.

 Chapter 124 - Two Blades and a Tail V

    Chapter 124 - Two Blades and a Tail V


    Falling back in his chair, Zelos breathed a sigh and rubbed his sweaty brow with the back of his arm. They had been working for several straight days, the precise number of which he had already lost count. His head was spinning and his mind was numb. The only object that still grabbed his attention was the glowing metal disk that lay atop his desk. It was covered with a thousand runes, each of which he had painstakingly inscribed before leaving the citadel.


    ¡°Take a break.¡± The much larger man sitting opposite him spoke without raising his head. Like the elf, he remained fully focused on the metal. ¡°I have enough mana. I won¡¯t need any more for at least another five hours.¡±


    The vertically challenged knife ear was not an artificer. His hands were steady and he was well versed in magical theory, but he was unable to manipulate the magitech so often employed by his companion. His contribution to their joint venture came not in the form of any hands-on construction, but rather the liberal use of his magical energy; the bracelet strapped to his wrist drained his mana and fed it into the battery that fueled the huskar¡¯s work. For the most part, the device was harmless, but the constant theft of his MP left his body weakened and vulnerable. His head was spinning and his limbs were aching. Even the simple act of leaning back in his seat filled him with the urge to hurl.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Taking a deep breath, Zelos tore the bracelet off his wrist, set it on the desk, and fell forward, with his head against his palm. ¡°I¡¯m going out for a walk.¡± Shaking his head, he pushed himself out of his seat and stumbled to the door. ¡°I¡¯ll be back once I get some fresh air.¡± The tiny man already had a flask of liquor in hand, formed the moment he reached the building¡¯s entrance.


    ¡°Take your time,¡± said Archibald. ¡°I don¡¯t need you collapsing on me.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry Archie. I¡¯ll be fine. You of all people should know that.¡± The elf raised the whiskey to his lips and emptied the container in a single breath. ¡°Is the bed on the second floor still vacant?¡±


    ¡°No reason it wouldn¡¯t be,¡± grunted the artificer.


    ¡°Great. I might borrow it once I clear my head.¡±


    Tossing the empty flask aside, he summoned a second drink and closed the door behind him. Though it brought him emotional relief, the liquor failed to remedy his problem. If anything, the 1000MP flasks only served to exacerbate the load on his already overworked magic circuits. Still, he continued flooding his veins. A mere thousand mana was an almost negligible amount. He would regenerate twice that in a minute, so long as he wasn¡¯t being drained.


    There were a ridiculous number of birds out and about. Something in the range of ten thousand ravens were gathered around the tower, with roughly a third of them free from the dungeon¡¯s control. The headcount was a value that only appeared substantial on paper. In practice, the ravens were a negligible force. The flock was just a mass of bodies with little to no value in the case of a fight. Even the strongest specimens were stuck in their seventies at best.


    It wasn¡¯t entirely their fault. Zelos was well aware that they were configured primarily for reconnaissance. Those seized by Alfred aside, the birds served as Archibalds¡¯ eyes and ears. The ravens were barely intelligible on their own, but their brain chips allowed them to relay simple messages to the huskar, limited only by their poor but not outright dysfunctional language skills.


    More suited for battle than the winged horde was the army buried underground. The mechanical monstrosities were numerous as an unending tide and ready to march on Archibald¡¯s command. Though individually no match for a powerful foe, the various homuncular constructs were persistent enough to whittle down a titan, if given the numbers they needed to overwhelm its regeneration. Most of the constructs were shaped like ducks, with the occasional platypus-shaped specimen thrown into the mix. Functionally, the more duck-like model was far and beyond the better of the two, but the individual platypuses were shaped with more care and effort for no reason beyond the preference of their creator. It was a well known fact that Archibald was attracted to mammals with avian body parts. The woman that awaited him back in Rygar was exactly that.


    Thinking back on his old life led the boy-sized man to frown. He had been a veteran sellsword, a part of a group that had operated in and around the capital for over fifty years.


    Like most other blades for hire, he had left his hometown to chase a dream. Zelos¡¯ desire was far from out of the ordinary. He had started his adventures spellbound by the lives led by the wealthy, but no more was he gripped by his unending lust. The naive little boy that had wanted nothing but to be surrounded by a hundred women was now a grown man with realistic expectations. His first real relationship informed him immediately that a harem was out of the question. Even one bride was too much for him to handle.


    The adventures he went on with Beckard, Frederick, and Archibald had certainly been enjoyable enough but he wasn¡¯t sure if he was willing to return to the life he had previously led. The time he spent in Llystletein had robbed him of most of his worldly desires and calmed his obscene temperament. He no longer felt the urge to continue with his ascensions. All he wanted now was to relax, enjoy his research, and live the rest of his life going between his hobbies and his family.


    After emptying another five drinks and wandering around the marsh for half an hour, the elf finished contemplating his life choices, rinsed his face off with water, and made his way back to his old friend¡¯s lab.


    A sense of malaise overcame him as he closed in on the tower.


    The neverending squawking that came with the raven population was gone; the trees were bare, and there was hardly a bird in sight.


    Those that remained were corpses, floating either in the water below or left in the undergrowth above. It was difficult to get an accurate headcount, but a quick estimate revealed that the death toll was in the triple digits. The sudden decline in the local bird population was certainly problematic, but it was nowhere near as concerning as the gaping hole in the side of Archibald¡¯s tower.


    Someone had brute forced their way inside, right through the building¡¯s center.


    ¡°No! Not now! We were so close!¡± Zelos grit his teeth. ¡°When the hell did he catch on!?¡±


    It could only have been Alfred.


    He had finally uncovered their scheme, at the most inopportune possible time.


    Calling the wind to his aid, Zelos enhanced his ears, lowered his hips, and placed a hand on his blade. To his relief, he heard not silence, but the continued clashing of metal on metal. The battle was still ongoing. Archibald had yet to die.


    Three songs emerged from his lips as he charged into the building. The first was a hymn of valour, its chords made of short, vibrant notes, full of energy. Its effect bolstered his combat stats threefold, and would keep him empowered for as long as he continued to sing. Next was a lullaby of suppression, a traditional bedtime tune sung by elves to their children. And finally, the harmony of the void, his own invention, an overture that would restore the strength he had before he entered the lost library, even if only temporarily.


    Together, their tunes melded into a single melody, a symphony of baritone notes that would have left most other bards biting their teeth in jealousy. It was an impossible feat without the skill he had acquired when the class first reached its 750th level.


    He burst through the broken wall and dashed into the building¡¯s underground, ready to confront the ancient demigod with his cursed, goblin-forged blade. He was prepared to see Archibald bloodied, battered, and on the verge of defeat, but the room had not a hint of blood splattered over its interior.


    His assailant was not a demigod, but rather another familiar individual. The chimera had transformed into a full fledged lamia. Her tail was wrapped around the cybernetic dog, keeping his limbs locked in place as she bashed his head with the handle of a dagger. The weapon sported a strange but familiar design, a form factor he had the vague impression of once dismissing as ridiculous.


    As a whole, the scene was so absurd that he was almost petrified. It took him a full second to regain his composure and raise his voice. ¡°Claire! Stop!¡± Her assault was unrelenting, but otherwise relatively harmless. Though she had somehow deduced that bludgeoning was more effective than stabbing, she was unable to get through the huskar¡¯s defenses. ¡°Claire!¡±


    He began walking across the room, but he was flagged down by another party before he could intervene. ¡°Hey Dad!¡± His daughter was waving at him from atop a nearby counter, her tail seated under her chin and her eyes focused almost entirely on the battle.


    Taking a deep breath, he lowered his weapon, but didn¡¯t return it to its sheath. ¡°Sylvie? What¡¯s going on?¡± He still wanted to step in but his daughter¡¯s calm demeanor left him hesitant.


    ¡°We were just in the area, so we decided to swing by.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t explain anything,¡± said the elf.


    A shout came from across the room as he pressed his face into his free hand. ¡°Don¡¯t just stand there, Zelos! Get this vicious thing off of me!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine!¡± He shouted back and returned his gaze to his daughter. ¡°Could you please explain why she¡¯s attacking Archie?¡±


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    ¡°She¡¯s finishing a quest, duh!¡± said the fox.


    ¡°And how is any of this accomplishing that?¡±


    ¡°Because her quest is to kill him. Why else?¡±


    His daughter tilted her head, prompting the elf¡¯s face to cramp up. ¡°Please make her stop. Archie is an important part of you-know-what.¡±


    Sylvia blinked, confused. She didn¡¯t nod in understanding until Zelos pointed to one of the devices that had been knocked over and left on the ground. ¡°He¡¯s the one in charge of most of the final construction, and I¡¯d really rather you not mess around in the workshop of all things. We¡¯ve put a lot of work into this.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ oh crap!¡± Her tail shot straight up as she got to her feet. ¡°Well uhmmm¡­ I think you¡¯re gonna have to step in. She¡¯s not listening right now.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I can see that,¡± he said with a sigh. ¡°Has she acquired a berserker class?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia tilted her head. ¡°I don¡¯t think so?¡±


    Zelos focused his eyes, and confirmed that Claire was unchanged. Her classes had leveled at a somewhat worrisome rate, but their tags remained identical. The discrepancy led him to scratch the back of his head. Berserkers were meant to be the only ones with complete mental immunity. Of course, there were always outliers and exceptions. Anything that happened to develop with continued exposure to a similar spell was almost sure to unlock at least one resistant evolution or ascension. Claire, however, had clearly not developed under the listed circumstances. Sylvia had already proven that her lullabies worked when she dragged her into the burrow just the other day, and his were just as effective.


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll just have to sing a little louder,¡± he said. ¡°She must not have heard me the first time.¡± A little uncertain of his own conclusions, he cleared his throat and straightened his back, but his daughter cut him short by holding up her paw.


    ¡°It¡¯s not gonna make a difference. Look at her ears! She¡¯s literally not listening.¡±


    Following the younger elf¡¯s line of sight, the Greenwood native realised that the lyrkress¡¯ oversized hearing organs were encased in ice. It was a thin layer and quite difficult to see from afar, but the crystalline structure gave itself away with the way it reflected the light.


    ¡°That¡­ is certainly one way to keep the sound out. Can she really not hear us at all?¡± asked Zelos.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so, but I¡¯m not really sure.¡± The four-legged elf began brushing her tail. ¡°Sometimes, it¡¯s hard to tell if she can¡¯t hear me or if she¡¯s just being mean. Kinda like how you can never tell if mom is spying on you.¡±


    Zelos chuckled. ¡°She does do that from time to time, doesn¡¯t she?¡±


    ¡°More like all the time!¡±


    ¡°Cut the chit chat and help me already!¡± screamed the huskar. ¡°Damn it, Zelos, you stupid masochist midget! I¡¯m not like you! I don¡¯t enjoy this, goddammit!¡±


    Though still in one piece, Archibald was starting to look worse for wear. One of his eyes was starting to droop, and his back was already slouched. The swordsman was sure that his friend¡¯s skin had yet to take any real damage, but the constant rattling couldn¡¯t have possibly been good for his brain. It didn¡¯t help that he was being hit harder and harder. Claire had switched from striking him quickly to putting more force behind each individual blow. And more importantly, all her hits were landing straight on the side of his temple.


    She didn¡¯t bother looking at Zelos until he approached, sword in hand. ¡°Stay out of it and I¡¯ll leave him with just a concussion.¡± She spoke as she raised her weapon and delivered the heaviest strike yet. ¡°Get in my way and I¡¯ll break his neck.¡±


    ¡°Do you hear this crazy bitch!? Hurry up and get her off of me!¡±


    The elf chuckled and sheathed his sword. ¡°Why are you hitting him?¡± There was no reason for him to be concerned for Archibald¡¯s safety. He was suffering not injury, but mild discomfort. And only because he was too uncultured to enjoy the extenuating circumstances.


    ¡°Damn you traitor!¡± choked the huskar. ¡°Short piece of shit!¡±


    ¡°You can hear me?¡± The father scratched the back of his head.


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire, her eyes on the lower half of his face. ¡°How do I get past his skin?¡±


    ¡°I swear to the gods, Zelos Redleaf.¡± Archibald¡¯s voice was raspy but solemn. ¡°If you expose my weakness, I will tell your wife about everything that happened between you and your cousin!¡±


    ¡°His skin loses its toughness if he isn¡¯t aware that he¡¯s in a fight. He has an air duct in his throat. Plug it, and wait. It¡¯ll only take him a few minutes to lose consciousness.¡± The elf spoke quickly, relaying precise orders as would a skilled commander.


    ¡°No!¡± The huskar¡¯s face paled.


    ¡°And please do me a favour. Hit him hard enough for him to lose at least most of his memories. I¡¯d also rather you refrained from smashing his eyes. I just fixed those.¡±


    Nodding, Claire grabbed an awfully rectangular ingot off a nearby shelf. ¡°Open wide.¡±


    ¡°I will do no suc¡ª¡±


    The metal was crammed into his throat as he tried to speak. It struck his artificial voice box, destroyed it, and left him incapable of making any further noise.


    ¡°Idiot,¡± said the chimera. She melted the ice around her ears, pushed him to the floor, and looked back up at the elf. ¡°I¡¯m hitting him because he made the birds scatter. I would have killed them all, if not for him.¡± Her tone was flat; her words and actions served as the only notable indications of her frustration.


    A grimace crossed Zelos¡¯ face as he realised that it was possible he had made a mistake. He had assumed that she had no intention of murdering the dog in cold blood, but looking at her blank expression made it difficult to say for certain. There was always a chance that she would pull the trigger and stab him in the neck.


    Gulping, he returned his hand to his blade and kept his eyes peeled, but fortunately, he didn¡¯t need to intervene. She did as promised and hit him a few times in the back of the head before stepping away, sheathing her weapon, and nodding in what he could only assume to be satisfaction.


    ¡°Why are you here?¡± she asked. The snake-girl prodded the unconscious dog¡¯s face with her tail as she magically retrieved the steel brick stuck in his mouth. Not letting it reach her hands, she released it with the smallest of frowns and allowed the oil-laden ingot to clatter onto the floor.


    ¡°Archie and I happened to be working on something,¡± said the elf with an awkward laugh.


    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you stop me?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°I was going to make him sleep if you didn¡¯t.¡± Leaning over, he grabbed his friend by the cuff and dragged him over to the bed in the corner of the workshop. ¡°We¡¯ve been at this for days. He needs a break, just as badly as I do.¡± Though the dog man was twice the swordsman¡¯s height, the vertically-challenged knife ear had no trouble lifting the huskar off the ground and shoving him under the sheets. ¡°What about you two?¡±


    ¡°We were just passing by!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And Claire wanted to kill some steelwings because they tried to bully her when she first got to the meadow.¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t,¡± sighed her father.


    Claire narrowed her eyes ¡°And why not?¡± She wasn¡¯t the only one to react negatively. The fox on the opposite side of her room puffed up her cheeks and began angrily slapping her tail against the counter.


    ¡°Yeah, what the heck, Dad? Steelwings are jerks and no one likes them. And plus, they¡¯re not even supposed to exist! Al doesn¡¯t care because he thinks they¡¯re funny, but they annoy the crap out of everyone else!¡±


    Zelos pursed his lips. ¡°Archie can explain once he wakes up.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll keep killing them. Until he wakes up.¡±


    ¡°Please, Claire. I would really prefer it if you didn¡¯t.¡±


    The plea was met with a glare. ¡°And I would have preferred if you didn¡¯t bring Mittens to me.¡± Her calm demeanor vanished into a hostile hiss. ¡°After I told you I wanted to work alone.¡±


    A frown crossed the elf¡¯s lips as he recalled the violence with which she had treated the missing rodent. ¡°Right, and I¡¯m sorry about that. I didn¡¯t realise you were on such bad terms.¡±


    ¡°Anyone would be. With him as he is.¡±


    ¡°I thought he was rather charming,¡± said Zelos. ¡°Reminds me a lot of what I was like in my youth, with a few extra quirks tacked on. Really quite passionate about his dreams, that one.¡±


    ¡°Dreams?¡± Sylvia tilted her head and curiously flicked her tail to and fro. ¡°What dre¡ª¡±


    She was cut off by a pinch to the cheeks. ¡°Don¡¯t ask,¡± said Claire, before turning to the fox¡¯s father. ¡°And you. Don¡¯t answer.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± Zelos raised his hands and shook his head in an exaggerated display of surrender. ¡°And I understand that you¡¯re still bitter, but please don¡¯t take your resentment out on the ravens. At least not for another week.¡±


    The chimera rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll consider it if you stop lecturing me.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Dad!¡± said Sylvia. She rubbed her cheeks before climbing up onto Claire¡¯s shoulder and retaliating in kind. ¡°We were gonna leave anyway.¡± The attack prompted the other girl to pick her up by the nape and lob her, but she was unharmed. She landed on all fours, atop the table in the middle of the room.


    ¡°I¡¯d appreciate that very much,¡± he said. ¡°Oh, and Claire?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Next time I see Geoff, I¡¯ll give him a strict warning and tell him to avoid you. I can¡¯t promise he¡¯ll listen, but I will at least try to convince him.¡±


    The chimera pulled her hood over her eyes and nodded, but said nothing.


    ¡°Oh yeah, we were gonna go to the Green Belt,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Want us to bring you something?¡±


    He paused for a moment, but soon shook his head. ¡°No, I¡¯ll be fine, thank you.¡± There was no point in accruing any more resources, with the timeframe being what it was. ¡°Oh, and I¡¯d like the two of you to come to the citadel in five days.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± asked Claire.


    The elf crossed his arms and twisted his face into a frown. ¡°Does it matter? All my advice has been sound so far, hasn¡¯t it? It¡¯s not like I¡¯ve done wrong by you yet.¡±


    ¡°Mittens.¡±


    ¡°Him aside,¡± Zelos laughed awkwardly, turned his face away, and scratched one of his ears before finally speaking again. ¡°Well, whatever the case, it¡¯s something that I¡¯m sure you¡¯d find awfully¡­ entertaining.¡±


    After taking a moment to stare at him suspiciously, the chimera turned around and walked out the doorway. ¡°Fine.¡±


    ¡°Hey, wait for me!¡± Sylvia leapt off the desk that had become her seat and ran after her companion. ¡°Bye Dad! See you in five days!¡± She spun around, waved at him, and waited for him to return the gesture before scampering off.


    ¡°You¡¯re free to come back sooner if you¡¯d like,¡± said the elf.


    ¡°We won¡¯t,¡± said Claire. ¡°I¡¯m avoiding the citadel.¡±


    Chuckling to himself, the bard began to sing as they stepped out from the building¡¯s confines. His enchanted voice wrapped the building¡¯s shattered bits in a soft glow and floated them back into place. The interior went through a similar process, with the broken chairs moving back into position and regaining their unblemished forms.


    The only thing that he couldn¡¯t be bothered to fix was the mess of paper strewn all over the floor. Leaving pages scattered, he used his sword as a cane, walked up to the second floor, and limped his way over to the guest room.


    ¡°That went more smoothly than I thought.¡± Closing the door behind him, the elf took a deep breath. ¡°All the pieces are finally in place.¡± He stepped over to the window and looked outside, at the strange three-layered world that had become his second home.

 Chapter 125 - Two Blades and a Tail VI

    Chapter 125 - Two Blades and a Tail VI


    Claire grit her teeth and flicked her tail from side to side as she slithered into the spiralling hall that marked the entrance to Brightmoss Maze. Adorning her path was a mess of brutalised corpses, monsters she had slain not for experience, but rather to fulfill the urge to hit something with an unreasonable amount of force; the entire sequence of events that had culminated in a conversation with her pet¡¯s father left her feeling irritated enough to waste her own time, which in turn only further fueled her annoyance.


    That was why she proceeded by looking for the nearest veaber-made hole and filling it with ice. Expending a reckless amount of magic, she flooded the walls with as much of the freezing cold substance as she could and did her utmost to lure out and exterminate every veaber in the area.


    Sylvia cast her the occasional concerned gaze, but otherwise remained silent. She obviously wanted to say something, as could be easily determined from how often she opened her mouth, but she struggled to find the right words. They continued to elude her, even as the pair reached the bottom of the ramp. Claire had almost snapped at her and told her to spit it out, but stopped short of entertaining the impulse. She knew it was unreasonable, just like the rest of her behaviour.


    She couldn¡¯t get herself to relax, at least not without determining the source of her sour mood. At first, she assumed that it was Mittens, but killing his kind brought no relief. The ravens seemed like another set of obvious suspects, but she didn¡¯t think it was them either. At worst, they were a mild annoyance, a small factor in the grand scheme that was her overflowing vexation. And neither was it the elf. Admittedly, she did feel like punching him, but the impulse wasn''t anywhere nearly as strong as the need to purge the lost library of all its veabers. It was almost like she was annoyed just because she was annoyed.


    Seeing the familiar, mossy caves only served to deepen her frustration. The rogue couldn¡¯t help but smash her fist into a wall as she recalled her arrival, and with it, the life of luxury she previously led.


    She wanted it back.


    She didn¡¯t want to have to fight for her continued survival. She just wanted to cozy up next to a fireplace, lean back into her mother¡¯s arms, close her eyes, and open them the next morning to find that she had somehow wound up in her bed.


    ¡°Claire?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    Flicking her tongue against the back of her teeth, Claire suppressed the urge to shout, pulled the fox into her arms, and squeezed her tight. Sylvia reacted with a bit of a start, but soon leaned back and relaxed. Slowly, Claire¡¯s grip loosened and her breathing slowed as she ran her hands through the tiny critter¡¯s warm, fuzzy coat.


    ¡°Sorry.¡± The blueblood set her captive back down. ¡°I¡¯m better now.¡±


    ¡°No problem!¡± chirped the fox. ¡°Mom has weird mood swings like that too.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have mood swings,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Sylvia averted her gaze for reasons that neither party could explain. ¡°So¡­ uhhmmm¡­ want me to take you straight to the Green Belt? Or do you just wanna explore?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just go,¡± said Claire. ¡°I want to kill its lord. As many times as I can.¡±


    ¡°Okay, then let¡¯s go!¡± Her tail swaying left to right, the half-elf stretched her back and began humming an energetic tune.


    ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Mhm?¡±


    ¡°Thanks. For calming me down.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure what I did, but you¡¯re very welcome!¡±


    With a happy bark, she put her best foot forward and led the way.


    ___


    The Green Belt was located far away from the equitaur¡¯s chamber. And unlike most of the other instanced areas, it featured an entrance that was clearly denoted. The rift, a distinctive tear in space with the other side on full display, was located atop a raised platform. It almost looked like an altar, but with none of the symbols typically seen in a place of worship.


    Furthering the impression were the mossy rocks by the gate. Each was adorned with a number of lit candles, arranged seemingly at random. It took an extended moment of observation for her to realise that they were not placed, but grown. Their bases were extruding from the stones; those that burned down and found themselves extinguished would quickly regenerate and light once more; the magical flames were merely extensions of the rocks that housed them.


    Rather than artifacts, the candle-growing entities were more akin to mutant golems. They would even shy away from her touch, whenever she got too close. Learning that they were monsters, of course, led the lyrkress to pursue the most natural conclusion, but to no avail. The piece of ice she fired was rejected by a thin barrier.


    ¡°What the heck, Claire! You¡¯re not supposed to kill them! Look at how cute they are!¡± Half panicked, Sylvia ran between the hunter and her prey, stood up on her hind legs, and spread her arms wide. ¡°Stop attacking everything you see! You don¡¯t even get anything out of it!¡±


    ¡°Experience.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like level five! You¡¯d get just as much from going out on a run!¡±


    ¡°First kill bonus.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯d be the tiniest first kill bonus you¡¯d ever seen. You¡¯d only get one point!¡±


    ¡°Still worth it.¡±


    Claire extended a hand towards one of the candle-covered rocks, but a pair of jaws intercepted her arm before it could reach. The fangs didn¡¯t dig into her flesh, but came fairly close. The vixen had used just enough force to avoid breaking her skin.


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t!¡± shouted the rabid dog.


    ¡°I can¡¯t understand you if you talk with your mouth full.¡±


    ¡°Mmmphhhrh!¡±


    Sylvia tried to release her jaw, but the lyrkress¡¯ unbitten hand kept her locked in place. She had magically grabbed the top half of the fox¡¯s mouth with her index finger and the bottom with her thumb. Pinching the two together kept her companion from relaying her thoughts.


    The undesired oath of silence was enforced for the better part of five minutes. Only after poking a golem with her tail, wandering through the portal, and watching the scenery warp did the lyrkress finally let go.


    ¡°You¡¯re so mean¡­¡± said the fox, as soon as she was released.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t kill any of them.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I mean!¡± Sylvia stamped the ground with her paws. ¡°You never let me finish talking! Ever!¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°Because you talk too much.¡±


    ¡°So? I like talking.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Claire smiled and patted the pet on the head. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be you if you didn¡¯t.¡±


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    ¡°If you know, then let me talk!¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    With her craving for warmth and fuzziness sated, the lykress got back to her feet and scanned her surroundings. She had been able to see them already through the portal, but the perspective had only given her a glimpse at the otherwise vast expanse located on the other side.


    Technically, she was still in a cave system of sorts; there were walls on all sides and a large ceiling overhead, only with none of the lichen that plagued the appropriately named Brightmoss Maze. The rocky tunnels, which measured at over ten times their previous diameter, were almost bare, save for all the mushrooms growing on just about every surface. Like the lightcrowns used by the foxes, they glowed, but much more brightly and aggressively.


    Every colour of the rainbow was present and accounted for. Blues, reds, yellows, greens, and purples were put to use in tandem, as were all the hues spawned from their various combinations. The materials of their making were inconsistent. While some mushrooms possessed fungal flesh, others were crafted from various inanimate materials, with porcelain, marble, and obsidian the most abundant by far. There were even some specimens that were only part organic, their bodies made from a mix of flesh and stone. Cancerous growths grew from each of the crystalline toadstools. Larger toadstools had smaller ones sprouting from them, and those smaller individuals went on to have even tinier parasites. It was a never ending cycle with no clear rhyme or reason. The only pattern she was able to deduce was that no two fungi were the same.


    The area¡¯s monsters, of which there were many, wandered the cave in plain sight. Wart-covered bipedal pigs, out-of-place objects, and giant floating eyes were in such abundance that it was difficult to turn her head any more than a few degrees without spotting another dense group. It was effectively the same sight she saw outside the instance, with the key difference being the creatures¡¯ power levels. While those that wandered Brightmoss Maze were typically under level fifty, most of the individuals patrolling the instance were clearly ascended.


    The hellhogs wore thick suits of bone armour and the eggeyes were four-winged. The mimics¡¯ relative strength was more difficult to pick out at a glance, as they simply looked as would giant everyday objects, but the evidence was clear. The other ascended species regarded them with caution and shied away from where they lurked.


    Unlike the monsters that lay outside, those in the Green Belt refrained from a life of unending conflict. They¡¯d growl and chirp at each other, but they never quite allowed their squabbles to escalate to violence. At least one of the aggressors would always retreat, with the larger individual often yielding to its smaller counterpart.


    ¡°How¡­ quaint,¡± said Claire.


    The opinion was met with silence. When she looked towards the fox, she found Sylvia standing on her hind legs with her arms crossed and her cheeks puffed up into a pout. The critter turned to face the opposite direction as soon as their eyes met, and even humphed for emphasis.


    Seeing the furball¡¯s stubborn display sparked the urge to pick her up and tickle her sideways, but her attempt to magically grab the half-elf ended in failure. The creature refused to budge; the force she crafted was repelled, redirected and destroyed by an unseen power. Approaching the problem physically yielded a similar set of results. Her fingers passed straight through the fox¡¯s body, as they would a ghost¡¯s.


    ¡°Okay, fine.¡± Claire sighed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. You can talk.¡±


    ¡°Hmph!¡± huffed the fox. Her arms remained crossed and her face turned away.


    ¡°I¡¯ll even get you some fish. Later.¡±


    Again, she was shrugged off.


    ¡°And a monopus steak.¡±


    The third compromise came with an interested glance, but Sylvia remained silent. She even huffed again and shook her head, as if indignant to even receive the offer. It was clear that she was just trying to get as much as she could, and though the lyrkress would benefit greatly from her directions, she had no intention of playing along. If the fox could be stubborn, then so too could her master.


    ¡°Fine. Then you don¡¯t get anything.¡±


    Statement made, Claire turned away from the confused hat and began walking down the hall. She had half expected the canid to raise her voice and protest the moment she threatened to leave, but Sylvia didn¡¯t give in. The fox simply humphed again and reluctantly followed after her, her face still adorned with the same vexed pout.


    Even without her guide, the lykress was unconcerned. The cave system wasn¡¯t very complex. The first turn was a long ways away, and she doubted that there were many others, but it was difficult to say for sure. Her ears could only tell her so much, and the glowing mushrooms meddled with her vision. The fluorescent fungi were so bright that she found it difficult to stare off into the distance, or at any other given part of the environment for that matter. She had to close her eyes periodically, just to let them rest.


    Eyes open or not, walking through the monster-infested zone meant that conflict was on the menu; it didn¡¯t take long for her to find herself in a staring contest with a piece of unsanitary pork. The monster had run right in front of her, just to block the way and growl.


    Unlike many of the others roaming the green belt, the beast was not ascended. It was naked, a plain old sack of meat almost identical to the first monster she had slain following her arrival. The hellhog was the perfect point of comparison she needed. She had already proven her growth by stomping frogpoles, frying ravens, and freezing veabers. She knew that she had earned her place when the lord of the chasm went from a challenge to a pushover. But something about the thought of killing another hellhog struck differently.


    She was the first to move.


    But not the first to land a hit.


    A fuzzy paw was bashed into the monster¡¯s face before her dagger-whip could reach it. The punch came with a sickening crack, the sound of the hog¡¯s neck being twisted far out of place. Its head facing the wrong way, the bipedal beast collapsed where it stood and fell over. Dead. Even though it was her prey.


    After taking a moment to make eye contact, Sylvia raised her snout high, snorted, and faced the other direction. A similar set of actions was repeated each time the lyrkress encountered another foe. Her pet wordlessly stepped in and murdered her targets right as she made her move. Though it was certainly a rather convenient way to save energy, Claire found herself too annoyed to take advantage of the boon.


    Seven stolen kills later, she decided that enough was enough. She sheathed her weapons, sat down, and rested her chin in her hands. There was no experience or first kill bonuses to be had, if the less-than-energetic furball kept throwing a tantrum.


    ¡°I give up,¡± Claire said. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°I want you to stop being such a meanie!¡± shouted Sylvia.


    ¡°I¡¯m not being mean.¡±


    ¡°Yes you are! I spent all that time worrying about you because you were in a bad mood. I didn¡¯t even talk to you because I didn¡¯t know what to say to make you feel better. I tried super hard to care about how you felt, but you never care about how I feel ever! You didn¡¯t let me talk, just because I told you not to kill something!¡±


    ¡°It was entertaining.¡±


    ¡°Maybe for you!¡± huffed the fox. ¡°I just wanted to have a conversation!¡± She stamped her paws against the ground with enough force to leave prints in the stone. ¡°And then, and then! You made it even worse by deciding to ignore me right when I was finally going to start talking to you again!¡±


    ¡°Because you wanted to be greedy.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s only fair! You were being really mean!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just being unreasonable,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°No I¡¯m not!¡± Sylvia¡¯s tail shot straight up. ¡°You¡¯re just not appreciating me enough!¡±


    ¡°I pet you all the time.¡±


    The lyrkress tried reaching for the furball again, but her touch was rejected. Only this time, it was physical. The fox actively brushed her hands away and stepped back.


    ¡°You only pet me because you want to!¡±


    ¡°And you like it when I scratch your ears.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s not like I ever asked you to scratch them¡­ I can scratch them myself.¡± She raised her paws to the sides of her head to demonstrate. ¡°It doesn¡¯t count if the nice thing you¡¯re doing is something that you¡¯re only doing for yourself! It just makes it feel like you never appreciate me and that you only hang out with me because it¡¯s convenient and I help you with stuff.¡±


    Claire opened her mouth to speak, but grit her teeth before the words left her lips. A part of her had wanted to refute the claim and offer to do something for the fox, but a flare of annoyance pulsed through her system as she considered its implications. Sylvia had it completely backwards. She was the one that was failing to sympathize and understand.


    ¡°That¡¯s not why,¡± said the rogue, quietly.


    ¡°Then why do you never do anything but bully me!? You never care what I have to say, and you always boil everything down to the facts! You don¡¯t even try to dress your words up to make me feel better¡­¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t. Bu¡ª¡±


    ¡°No buts! It hurts my feelings and you don¡¯t even care!¡±


    ¡°Listen to m¡ª¡±


    ¡°No!¡± shouted Sylvia, as she stamped the ground again. There was an earthquake; at least seventy different hogs were caught in the rumbling and slain by falling debris. ¡°You listen to me! And don¡¯t roll your eyes! I know you¡¯re about to!¡±


    Claire nearly stopped the motion halfway through, but another rage-filled flare prompted her to follow it through. ¡°This is ridiculous.¡± She got to her feet and pulled her cloak back over her head. ¡°I¡¯m not going to listen to you if you don¡¯t listen to me.¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re just going to keep making excuses and refuse to admit that you¡¯re just bad at being nice!¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± gritting her teeth, she tried to magically silence the fox, but again, her forces were rejected.


    ¡°See! The moment something stops going your way, you just get mean and grumpy!¡±


    ¡°I said, shut up!¡±


    Claire shrugged off the complaint with a shout and turned away. Without another word, she sealed her ears with ice, pulled her hood over her eyes, and dove into a crowd of monsters.

 Chapter 126 - Two Blades and a Tail VII

    Chapter 126 - Two Blades and a Tail VII


    Though they appeared intimidating, the Green Belt¡¯s monsters proved no more challenging than the crabs. One by one, they were mowed down like weeds in a garden. A stab to the face killed an ascended hog, a magical squish ended a four-winged egg-eye, and a beam of ice turned a mimic into a sculpture.


    Behind the mass murderer trailed a very unhappy fox. Sylvia had stopped stealing Claire¡¯s targets from right under her nose, but she had yet to recover from her fit of displeasure. She continued facing the opposite direction every time the lyrkress turned her way and refused to offer any directions. Any attempts to catch her were invalidated; each time, she would outright reject the lyrkress¡¯ touch with magic beyond the half-moose¡¯s understanding.


    Starting a conversation still seemed possible, so long as it was started the right way, but the blueblood was unwilling to offer another apology. It wasn¡¯t as if she couldn¡¯t see the fox¡¯s perspective. She knew that she was being stubborn and that she really should have empathized. She could even go as far as admitting that she was wrong, but she knew better than to assume that she could put the feelings into words. Something ingrained in the back of her mind was holding her back. That was why she had tried to convey it through touch instead, as she always did, but the notion had been outright rejected.


    And it isn¡¯t like she¡¯s trying to talk either.


    Impaling another hog with her chain dagger, Claire grit her teeth and stopped just shy of a hiss. She wasn¡¯t the only one in the wrong. The silly elf was taking all her words at face value and failing to perceive the intent left unsaid.


    Alice was better at reading between the lines.


    Her mind continued down a spiral of frustration as she ventured through the Green Belt with nothing but dead monsters in her wake. Even the most powerful individuals, ascended hogs with phallic tusks, were stuck at around level 150. They were hardly any stronger than the crabs, and she had little to no trouble dispatching them.


    Frederick¡¯s blade certainly played a role in her success, but it was not by any means a key factor. Like her icy creations, the weapon was capable of piercing through the hellhogs¡¯ flesh, but not their bony protectors. Its most notable aspect was its durability. Despite the constant abuse that came with the lyrkress¡¯ experimentation, neither dagger suffered any major damage. There was the occasional scratch, but the half-centaur was unbothered. The edges themselves were pristine, and as far as she was concerned, the fresh marks in their handles only served to add to their aesthetic and appeal.


    The hellhogs¡¯ opinions on the matter likely involved a tad more displeasure, but Claire cared very little. Their deaths were nothing but a means for her to vent her frustration, a way for her to distract herself from the stubborn fox and delay the unavoidable apology. It was either that, or they would continue to butt heads.


    The sour mood persisted even as she made it all the way to the far end of the cave system and defeated its lord, a thrice-enlarged hellhog with pickaxes for hands and glowing mushrooms for teeth. Not even at night, when they set up camp, did either party attempt to speak.


    Tired, annoyed, and unwilling to yield, Claire went to bed and put the confrontation off for another day.


    ___


    ¡°Come in.¡±


    After stretching his limbs and getting up on his desk, Beckard Links undid the magical seal on his office and admitted the guests on the other side of his door. Through the frame entered the exact pair that he had been expecting. Neither the towering dog nor the tiny elf said a word until the door was closed and the protective spell recast. It was obvious what they wished to discuss, both from the timing, and from the heavy mood.


    Exchanging nods with his old friends, the cat pulled an artifact out from his robe and channeled his magic through it. The connected bookshelf whirred to life soon after and revealed the teleporter sequestered within. Fred stepped through as soon as the spell was ready, emerging from the other side in a set of greasy overalls.


    With all four of their members gathered, the adventurers-turned-missionaries that called themselves the Relic Hunters took their places at the table, and got on with the scheduled discourse.


    ¡°My task is complete.¡±


    Archibald stroked his fancy moustache as he drew the metallic object strapped to his back. After taking a moment to unravel the cloth wrapped around it, he set the key-shaped artifact upon the table for all his old party members to see. It was just the right size to be used by a towering giant, ten centimeters wide and over a meter long. The magic circuits that ran along its length were covered in complex runic inscriptions. So messy and condensed were the spells that they looked as would a disorderly grable of scribbles to anything but the most trained of eyes. Sickly black energy pulsed through its artificial blood vessels, its flow centered around the disembodied eye embedded within its handle.


    From afar, it almost looked as would some sort of demonblade, a wicked weapon with a will of its own and a penchant for blood. But none of those traits were present. Each of the three contributors was too skilled at his craft to allow for such a freak accident.


    ¡°If you could, Beckard,¡± said Archibald.


    ¡°It would be my pleasure.¡± The cat-sith pressed both his paws on the blade¡¯s handle and closed his eyes. Golden energy enveloped his body. It appeared at a glance to be his, but its source was one from beyond the veil. The cat-fairy was nothing but a medium for the entity that had driven his journey to priesthood. ¡°Flux, oh Flux, Goddess of the flow, arbiter of incarnation and master of the seas.¡± His veins were lit aflame as the divinity ate through his body, but he was unbothered. His goddess was with him, and his faith in her was unending. ¡°I pray to you for both this artifact¡¯s completion and obscurity. I beseech for it to be refined by your grace and blessed by your magic with abilities beyond its make. And in return, I offer to you my eternal dedication and loyalty, as has always been, and will always remain. May my soul be burned by your flame and touched by the chaos that is your principle.¡± Blood seeped from his eyes and nose as he continued to channel the goddess¡¯ power. His gums swelled and bled as would those of a man with scurvy, and his whiskers began to fall out of his face.


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    The flow of energy was suddenly cut short right before he lost consciousness, leaving him to fall to his knees and hack his lungs out onto the carpet. There was blood everywhere, but none deigned to help him. Each kept their distance for their own safety. Like all other racial devouts, he had caustic blood, a godsent gift to deter the killing of his kind.


    It was harmless to most objects, but any individual that touched it would be immolated by a divine flame. The burning would forever continue with no signs of fading, so long as his faith remained above his health. And if there was one thing the hairless cat-sith had, it was faith in abundance.


    A fit of wheezing later, the feline rose to his feet, wiped off the artifact, and presented it to his co-conspirators. It was shrouded in the divine glow that had previously enveloped his body, a mix of golds, reds, and blacks, integrated directly into its various circuits.


    ¡°Look enough good?¡± asked Fred.


    Zelos stared at it with his eyes glowing and his brow furrowed. Slowly, he moved his line of sight up and down, scanning the various parameters that appeared when he looked over its parts. ¡°It¡¯s a little bit on the brittle side, but it¡¯ll do,¡± he said. ¡°The overall quality is about thirty out of a hundred, more than good enough for the materials we had on hand.¡±


    ¡°Stuck at thirty? Use only few dozen times then break,¡± said the goblin, with a click of the tongue.


    Beckard chuckled. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so worried. We¡¯ll only need to get four uses out of it.¡± He rubbed his paws together before clasping them behind his back. ¡°Is the decoy on track?¡±


    ¡°Check weapons say lassie no on schedule. Kill lord of mines twice only, friend.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to postpone our morning plans until the mid to late afternoon.¡± Beckard groaned. ¡°Make sure you keep watch, Zelos. We have to start as soon as she touches the hexstone, else we¡¯ll miss our chance. He¡¯ll only be distracted for so long.¡±


    ¡°We may have a little more leeway than was planned. I¡¯ve heard that he¡¯s been busy lately,¡± said Zelos. ¡°Something about a war involving catgirls. My informant wasn¡¯t very specific.¡±


    Archibald snorted. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter either way. A few seconds is all I need to finish the remaining preparations.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so sure,¡± said Beckard. ¡°Don¡¯t let your guard down. Alfred¡¯s crafty. He¡¯s lived a hundred times as long as we have, and there¡¯s no telling if he has any tricks up his sleeve.¡±


    ¡°Ask goddess, yes? Get answer soon.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t rely on Flux for everything, Fred,¡± said Beckard , calmly. ¡°She was the one that assigned us this quest. We can¡¯t have her do it for us.¡±


    ¡°Does it matter? Our rewards weren¡¯t contingent on completing the task without her help. Hell, I¡¯m pretty sure she told us not to hesitate if we needed her to pitch in,¡± said Archibald.


    ¡°Needed, Archibald. Needed,¡± said the scar-marred cat. ¡°I¡¯m sure she wouldn¡¯t mind stepping in if things happen to go south, but as it stands, I think it¡¯s safe to say that we don¡¯t need anything.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll just have to wait and see,¡± said Zelos.


    ¡°Wait hard, anticipation kill me soon,¡± said Fred. ¡°Wasted long years for this, hard say if worth, friend.¡±


    Fred¡¯s reward was an undiscovered high-value mine, the location of which would be revealed to him through a divine revelation. While a merchant or nobleman likely would regarded the prize with glee, the average adventurer was more likely to sulk at its non-value. A mining operation was nothing but a mountain of work. It needed to be managed, and every step of the process had to be done with care. An almost excessive amount of labour was required to yield any results, but while that would have been a pain for most, Fred had no trouble finding the manpower, or more accurately, the goblinpower he needed. Taking control of a local plague demon population and working it to the bone was as easy as counting to three. Beckard didn¡¯t quite agree with the practice, but he didn¡¯t voice his disapproval. Goblins had their own way of doing things, and it wasn¡¯t his business to butt in.


    ¡°Thinking little in past. Accept quest because valuable, but now older, wiser, think young me foolish, me is.¡± The goblin king sat down, his back against a nearby bookcase. ¡°Think again now, not good idea. Changing value with time, good mine no guaranteed rich. Working rare metals maybe less valuable job now, me worry.¡±


    ¡°Weren¡¯t you the first to agree to this whole thing?¡± The elf frowned as he cast the goblin an accusing glance. ¡°It¡¯s nice to know that you¡¯re having second thoughts, after volunteering the rest of us.¡±


    ¡°Be Archibald, that was. Blame me no right,¡± said the wart skin.


    The huksar scoffed. ¡°I was certainly rather eager, but it¡¯s Beck¡¯s fault. Not mine.¡±


    Smiling, the cat got back up on his desk and sat on the edge. ¡°I may have proposed the idea, but we all agreed on it, and rather quickly at that.¡±


    Fred wasn¡¯t the only one to have been promised a reward. Each member of the party had one tailored just for them. The priest¡¯s was the least substantial, a high rank among the clergy. With the backing of his goddess, he would be able to use his clout to open a dozen monasteries, each with accompanying schools and orphanages; no longer would Father Vakuus be able to deny the borderlands their aid. There was, of course, the odd chance that the old bastard had perished in the seventy odd years Beckard had been away from the church, but the cat-sith doubted it. He was far too resilient and greedy for that.


    The gift awaiting Archibald was both the most outstanding and the most incriminating. Flux had described it as a set of records, papers written by an ancient celestial put down by the god of the hunt. And the reason that the creation of artifacts had once been branded taboo. To a practitioner of the lost art, it was akin to a holy book, an ancient manuscript filled with techniques lost to time, remembered only by the gods and their servants.


    ¡°Any chance you¡¯re finally going to tell us what she promised you, Zelos?¡± asked Archibald.


    The elf pursed his lips and shook his head. Unlike the others, who had all immediately disclosed their promised rewards, the boy-sized man had kept his secret. They had tried and failed, for the past seventy years, to pry it from him, but he refused to reveal it even with his blood half made of liquor.


    ¡°Of course not. I told you, I¡¯m never going to say it.¡± To nobody¡¯s surprise, his lips remained firmly sealed. ¡°It¡¯s far too embarrassing.¡±


    The detail was one that he always added, leading two of the three others to suspect it was something to do with the women he had failed to seduce in his youth, and the last with the impression that it was related to his man-eating cousin. Whatever the case, there was little to be had but speculation. Neither theory could be confirmed without his admission.


    ¡°Need just say, hide no point, me think,¡± said Fred. ¡°Will all know when escape.¡±


    Zelos sighed. ¡°I know, Fred. You don¡¯t need to rub it in.¡± He crossed his arms and clasped the pendant hanging from his neck. ¡°Let¡¯s go through all our roles, just to make sure we have everything in order.¡±


    Beckard nodded and produced a document from the inside of his robe and looked over his notes. ¡°Four more days,¡± he said with a smile. ¡°Four more days until this seventy year quest finally comes to an end.¡± His heart was beating at five times its usual speed, pounding in his chest. His paws were clenched, hard enough for his claws to dig into his pads. ¡°Four more days until we finally kill Alfred Llarsse.¡±

 Chapter 127 - Two Blades and a Tail VIII

    Chapter 127 - Two Blades and a Tail VIII


    Having slept through a rare, dreamless night, Claire rose from a less-than-comfortable mossy slab with a stretch and a yawn. Her back was sore. The lack of padding had wreaked havoc on the groove between her cervitaurian hips and her humanoid rib cage. A dull pain pulsed through her side every time she tried to sit upright. Sleeping on a literal bed of rock had been nothing but a horrible mistake.


    Though she winced with each motion, the halfbreed¡¯s mood was no longer as foul as it had been the previous night. She was starting to miss the fox¡¯s silly retorts, and a half-due apology was no longer too steep a price. The blueblood still did fault Sylvia for her lack of sensitivity, but it wasn¡¯t as if her four-legged friend was entirely to blame. The vixen was anything but subtle, but neither was she as dumb as she liked to behave.


    With that consideration in mind, she groggily looked around and sought the fox¡¯s frame, but it was nowhere to be seen. She activated catgirl detector and scouted the surrounding area, but the skill failed to provide the information she sought and led only to the claim that she was all alone.


    ¡°Sylvia? Sylvia!¡±


    She tried calling for the enigmatic forest critter, but there was no response. The hat didn¡¯t suddenly appear out of thin air, like she had on nearly every other occasion.


    A small frown crossed the lyrkress¡¯ lips. ¡°Did she really leave?¡± She scoured her surroundings and checked behind every rock and boulder, but the results remained unchanged. ¡°Great.¡±


    She called for a basket of bread as she leaned against the cave¡¯s inner wall. She had to face it. Her guide¡ªher friend¡ªhad vanished in the middle of the night.


    ¡°I should¡¯ve been quicker to apologize,¡± she whispered, under her breath.


    ¡°No, no, you¡¯re fine. It¡¯s her fault,¡± said a ghostly snake.


    ¡°You shut up.¡± Claire waved the serpent away, buried her face in her arms, and heaved a heavy sigh. The noodle¡¯s words of encouragement were pointless. She knew better than to avoid blaming herself.


    There was a cold, sinking sensation in her chest. She clenched her teeth, shook her head, and tried to drive it away, but it refused to leave her alone. The familiar apprehension was like a liquid glue. It sunk into the deepest parts of her mind and sealed itself in.


    ¡°She might come back.¡±


    The whimper did nothing to comfort her. It wasn¡¯t true. And she knew it. There was no point in lying to herself, no point in building up an expectation that would only lead to further disappointment.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    She had been abandoned. For the second time in a month.


    ¡°It was just one fight.¡±


    It was all her fault. Again, she had demonstrated that she was nothing but a disappointment. She had failed to prove to her father that she was worthy of his title. Just as she had failed to prove to Sylvia that there was more to her but a bitter, empty shell.


    ¡°Alice always made up with me.¡±


    Self-loathing washed over her like a torrential rain. Even knowing that she was to blame, she had wanted the fox to take the initiative for no reason but to sate her pride. That was the only reason they had fought to begin with. It was all for her ego, her stupid, useless ego.


    A frustrated groan escaped her lips as she grit her teeth and clenched her fists hard enough to draw blood. She grabbed her hair and nearly tore out a few tufts, stopping only as she recalled that the silky mane was one of the few things that would not immediately regenerate. Another choice made in vanity. And another choice that plagued her.


    Further souring her mood was the knowledge that she could have set everything back on the right path. Sylvia had given her a shot at redemption, a blatant opportunity, where her father had given her nothing. And she had thrown it away. All because she was too stubborn to let the fox come out on top.


    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault.¡±


    Claire¡¯s nose began to stuff up as she turned into a humanoid and hugged her knees. The bread basket finished forming while she had her head pressed against her legs, but she didn¡¯t react. It bounced off her wrist and spilled its less-than-palatable contents all over the moss-covered cave.


    Like the meaningless loafs, their summoner stayed put where she was, until she heard a pair of footsteps approach. Her ears twitching, she wiped off her face and slowly raised her head. Her hopes were high, and that was precisely why she was met with disappointment. Had she been in the right state of mind, she would have noticed from the sound alone. But as she was, it took looking upon the monster¡¯s shadow to conclude that it wasn¡¯t the fox.


    Its silhouette was too tall, too fat and ugly to belong to anything but a hellhog.


    The dismay biting away at her, she buried her face back into her arms and closed her eyes. If she was lucky, it would pass through the corridor without being alerted to her presence. But as much as she wanted it to leave her alone, the bipedal pig had other plans in mind. It turned the corner, beat its chest like a gorilla, and charged like a bull.


    For a brief moment, she considered letting it do as it pleased, but even shaken, she knew better than to let herself fall. A flick of the arm sent Shouldersnake to war. The phantom flew from her fingertips and wrapped itself around the monster¡¯s neck. The serpent¡¯s hissing was followed by a loud snap and an equally loud crash. Neck broken, the hog collapsed, its corpse skidding to a stop right by her feet.


    Log Entry 3579


    You have slain a level 41 hellhog.


    The lyrkress bit her lips and lowered her head again. Hearing the goddess¡¯ voice only left her feeling more distraught. She wanted to talk to someone, or even something. But there was no point. No one would answer, no matter how loud her shouts. She couldn¡¯t simply force one of the servants to fetch Mariabelle and complain to her as she could in days past. Nor could she wander into the kitchen to seek Amereth. Not even Allegra was available. Annoying as she was, Claire would have taken the nosy tutor to the haunting silence.


    Anything was better than being alone.


    Wordlessly, Claire stared into the dead monster¡¯s eyes. There was no life left in them, nothing but the mess that was her own reflection. She was wearing nothing but a negligee too large for her humanoid form. Her hair was in disarray, her eyes were swollen and puffy, and the tip of her nose was red.


    ¡°I hate this.¡±


    Gritting her teeth again, the lyrkress forced herself to her feet and stumbled over to the rift at the room¡¯s centre. She was annoyed, annoyed that the fox was gone, and annoyed at herself for driving her away. But she couldn¡¯t simply spend the day wallowing in her regrets. She still had things to do and monsters to kill; there was no point in sitting around and wasting her time.


    ¡°Stupid fox.¡±


    She tightened her grip, stepped through the portal, and got to work.


    Everything that got in her way was violently dismembered, with some of the bulkier targets stabbed a few extra times for good measure. The lord was dealt with similarly. Though she had approached it with caution during their previous encounters, the third confrontation was made with nothing but reckless abandon. She charged right at it with a knife in each hand and overwhelmed it with brute force. It tried to swat her away, but she dodged and parried its attacks, hugging close to its body to avoid its wide swings. Over and over, it was stabbed in the vitals, until its body finally gave out.


    Its death was accompanied by a bizarre phenomenon demonstrated by none of its predecessors. A large butterfly with orange and black wings flew out of one of its open wounds. She lunged at the insect, but it evaded both her physical strikes and the vectors she used to reel it in. Calmly, as if it weren¡¯t under attack, the bug fluttered over to a rock and perched itself on top of it.


    The tiny pebble inflated immediately, becoming a large monolith with a familiar shape. Runes were burned in it soon after, spreading out from its core as would a drop of dye in a bucket of clear water.


    Even before it was fully formed, she could tell exactly what it was, another one of the stones that would allow her to commune with the celestial that was the library¡¯s master.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    But she didn¡¯t touch it. Ignoring the gaudy sarsen, she turned around and headed straight for the exit. The old geezer was the last thing she wanted to deal with. Just imagining his voice irked her. She didn¡¯t want to hear it, even if it meant that she would remain all alone with her less-than-pleasant thoughts.


    ¡°He might know¡­¡±


    It was possible. For all she knew, the demigod was both well aware of her predicament and willing to negotiate a deal of sorts, a chance to make up for her mistake.


    Still, she refused to see him.


    Enlisting his aid simply felt wrong. She knew that she would still be doing the bulk of the work either way; it would ultimately fall to her to convince the fox to accept her apology and perhaps even understand the words she had left unsaid. But the problem was too personal; she didn¡¯t want to discuss the matter with the old pervert, let alone seek his assistance. Both because she was stubborn, and because she feared what he would ask in return. There was no telling what the conniving old pervert would demand, but she doubted that it would be a request with which she was willing to comply. If she was unlucky, then there was a chance he would even seek her chastity. If he was capable of orchestrating a debauched sabbath, then it was unlikely that anything was truly beneath him.


    A shudder running down her spine, she shied away from the hexstone and hurried towards the exit. Her body turned lyrkrian and the nightgown she had worn throughout her first trek was transformed into a layer of protective armour, both changes made in fear of the demigod¡¯s lustful gaze.


    Maybe she went back to the hollow. Clenching her fists, she walked through the portal that led her outside the instance and started moving through the hallway. I¡¯ll go ask her mother. She seemed nice.


    Chin up, she marched through the hall, only to come to a dead stop as she reached the intersection. It was then and only then that she realised she was lost. She had no idea where she was or how she was supposed to find her way back to the exit. Wandering around the cave system would be nothing but a waste of time, another way to wallow in her self-loathing.


    ¡°Nothing ever goes the way I want.¡±


    Heaving a small sigh, she retraced her steps and re-entered the instance. There was nowhere else for her to go. She was sure to get lost if she headed in any other direction. Biting her lips and sniffling, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve and repeated her trek through the crystalline fungal field.


    Each pass, each killing of the lord, took her roughly an hour, with the time required per iteration halving as she began taking to the air and skipping over the rabble that made up the bulk of the mushroom farm¡¯s population. The egg-eyes still attempted to intercept, but they were never quick enough to reach her, be it with their bodies or their projectiles. The purple liquids they spat were blown away by invisible vectors, redirected and used to melt the monsters that had produced them.


    The fourth lord of the day came with another hexstone, but she continued to ignore it, dismissing it for the exact same reasons as before. When it reappeared on her seventh kill, however, she found that she was drawn in by its allure. The call only grew stronger with the tenth kill, but again, she managed to stave it off. Pinching her cheeks and looking at her status was enough to prompt her to move on.


    Run number thirteen, however, stopped her in her tracks. She couldn¡¯t help but stare at the runic rock, to slowly wander towards it as she wondered why she refused to ask the celestial for his help. The more she thought about it, the less she wanted to simply walk away.


    There was no guarantee that his fee would be as ridiculous or exorbitant as her first impulse had suggested. And if it was, then she could refuse. It wasn¡¯t as if speaking with him would immediately lock her into agreeing to his terms. She was still worried that the fox would refuse to listen to her, but the concern would remain a moot point if she was unable to get ahold of her. And if Sylvia hadn¡¯t returned to her family home, then she would be completely out of leads. Dixie aside, she doubted that any of the other foxes would be willing to lend their aid. Darkwood Hollow hadn¡¯t exactly been the most welcoming place.


    With her tail tied into a knot and her mind made, she approached the hexstone and slowly placed one of her shaking palms against it. Breathing deep breaths did nothing to calm her. She didn¡¯t stop trembling until she recalled that she would soon be in the presence of a conniving old lecher, one willing and able to take advantage of any weakness she showed.


    ¡°There you are. Kept me waiting long enough.¡± His voice came right as she steadied herself.


    When she raised her head, she found Alfred sitting at his desk with his pipe in his mouth, one hand pressed against his forehead, and the other scribbling at a hundred miles a minute. Right away, she noticed that there was something different, something off. For one, there were far more pages on his desk than there were during their previous encounters. He was almost entirely obscured by a mess of parchment and paper, a mountain with its peak right in front of his face.


    When he pushed it all away, he revealed not the usual playful grin, but a look that highlighted his wrinkles and emphasized the lesions on his skin. His eyes were baggy, with blackened circles going all the way down to his cheekbones. His gaze was only half-focused, and the wand floating behind him was working in overdrive. It spun and twisted so quickly that it became something of an imperceptible blur. The forces that it produced were so numerous that even looking at it was enough to give her a headache.


    ¡°As you can see, I¡¯ve been rather¡­ busy lately. Why don¡¯t we keep this short?¡± Without waiting for a response, he lifted a piece of paper off his desk, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it at her.


    She tried to duck out of the way, but her body refused to listen to her orders. It stayed stock still as the page bounced off her head and transferred its contents straight into her mind.


    Log Entry 3926


    You have read The Lost Library¡¯s Fifth Chapter. It has been transcribed into your native language as the following log entry.


    Log Entry 3927


    Hello, trial goer, and congratulations on finding a fifth set of instructions. There are two more to go. Focus, and you will be able to push through to the end. Be aware that the path need not be straight. If you require greater power, then seek the equitaur¡¯s chamber. It is an eternal challenge with which comes an endless supply of experience. So long as you continue to grow, you will remain triumphant.


    Comprehending the contents of this message will grant the following boons:


    - Experience gained from equitaur kills is doubled


    - Access to the sixth hexstone immediately upon the equitaur¡¯s defeat


    - A lengthy audience with the Head Librarian, during which he will be more inclined to honestly answer any questions posed


    The final clause¡¯s specificity led Claire to raise a brow, but she refrained from commenting out loud. When she tore her eyes off her glowing blue box, she found the celestial had already switched gears. He stared at her with an amused glint in his eye, like a child waiting for a prank to bear fruit. Claire, of course, took the sudden shift as a sign to stay silent. She feigned ignorance, met his gaze, and spoke the demand that had driven her to touch his cursed stone.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Sylvia?¡±


    The man furrowed his brow. ¡°I thought she was with you.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be asking if she was,¡± said Claire. It took a conscious effort for her not to frown or mumble. She didn¡¯t know if he could see right through her, the way Flux could, but she tried her best not to show any weakness nonetheless.


    ¡°How curious. And you¡¯re certain that she didn¡¯t mention something before leaving? She isn¡¯t exactly the sort to up and vanish without warning.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think so either.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± He puffed a cloud of smoke from his pipe as he fiddled through the air with his fingers, swiping and tapping at something that only he could see. ¡°Did you perhaps try seducing her? She happens to have some¡­ issues due to her heritage, and doesn¡¯t take well to that sort of behaviour.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire. She almost wanted to throw something at him, but her voice remained steady. She did allow her eyes to narrow into a glare, but only because she thought it would have been more natural to react than not.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t give me that look. It¡¯s the only possible explanation that comes to mind, really.¡± He set down his pipe and stroked his beard.


    She paused for a moment, opening her mouth only after a moment¡¯s consideration. ¡°We fought. And then she vanished.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Did you now?¡± The glint in his eye returned as he stopped moving his fingers and focused his eyes on the space in front of him. ¡°I normally would have known prior to this meeting, of course, but I¡¯ve been a little too preoccupied with some other work.¡±


    Disgusting.


    The celestial spent a few seconds chuckling, only to suddenly furrow his brow. Claire could feel herself slipping from his focus; his eyes moved away from her own and centered themselves on whatever he had in front of him. He began quickly digging through the pages on his desk shortly after, sorting through them at an almost impossible speed.


    ¡°I can¡¯t find her,¡± said the demigod, as all the pages on his desk were thrown to the floor.


    Claire felt her breath get stuck in her throat as Alfred rummaged through his drawers. When he finished going through them, he snapped his fingers and had his wand deliver him a book, a massive tome as wide as he was tall. She couldn¡¯t see its contents in detail from where she stood, but she caught a few glances of what appeared to be some sort of ledger. Its columns were marked with various symbols, letters, numbers, all jumbled up into a bundle of nonsense.


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible,¡± he muttered, under his breath. ¡°All the other foxes are present and accounted for.¡± His fingers flipped through the pages, a dozen at a time. ¡°Is she the only one? What about the torches?¡± The old human¡¯s eyes narrowed as one of his fingers stopped on a very specific entry. He kept talking to himself, but from that point on, his words were imperceptible. Not even raising her ears allowed her to catch them.


    When he finally closed the book, he did so with a wide grin. The expression was relatively unassuming at a glance, but his aura reeked of something else, something beyond mere amusement. A sickly, red and black energy radiated off his body and flooded the surroundings as would a poisonous mist.


    ¡°I take it you¡¯re familiar with the citadel by now?¡±


    Wordlessly, Claire nodded.


    ¡°Excellent.¡± He grabbed his wand out of the air and gave it a few quick waves. ¡°In that case, I would like you to do me a small favour.¡±


    Log Entry 3928


    One of your quests, Kill Archibald Ravensworn, has been rescinded.


    Log Entry 3929


    You have received a quest - Eliminate Insurgents


    Primary Objectives:


    - Archibald Ravensworn is slain.


    - Beckard Links is slain.


    - Frederick Wappitit is slain.


    - Sylvia Redleaf is captured.


    - Zelos Redleaf is slain.


    Deadline: 72 hours


    Completing at least three of this quest¡¯s primary objectives will provide a reward in the form of an immediate second ascension, along with all accompanying levels and bonuses. Successful completion comes with an upgrade to the Llystletein Authority skill that provides safe passage to and from Llystletein.

 Chapter 128 - Two Blades and a Tail IX

    Chapter 128 - Two Blades and a Tail IX


    Claire narrowed her eyes in an exaggerated display of scrutiny as she looked between the celestial and the glowing blue box that depicted his latest command. It was a ridiculous request. They were too powerful. She would need a perfect storm to take out even one, let alone three.


    ¡°Well? What do you say?¡± asked Alfred. He was playing with his fingers, rhythmically tapping their tips against each other as he awaited her response.


    ¡°I have questions.¡±


    ¡°And I won¡¯t be answering them,¡± he said. ¡°There isn¡¯t all that much to it, child. Slay them, and you will be rewarded.¡±


    ¡°I refuse,¡± said Claire. ¡°It¡¯s not worth the effort.¡±


    Zelos was the greatest obstacle. She had sparred with him when he taught her to use a sword, and it was clear even from a brief, educational encounter that he was by far and large her superior. For one, his weapon of choice was exactly that; he wasn¡¯t stuck building up his mastery from scratch with an unfamiliar tool, and unlike many of the others, he had failed to inherit any poor habits from a lost class. If his testimony was anything to go by, the other men on the list lurked in the same realm. All four of them had kept most of what Alfred had tried to take. Though their levels had been lowered, their classes were retained and their lost powers eventually regained; they were every bit as strong as their thrice-ascended racial classes suggested.


    Archibald was the easiest target. He had proven on multiple occasions that he was utterly inept in personal combat, but not for no reason. As an artificer, he specialised not in close quarters, but conquering his enemies from afar with unknown devices of his own making; Cadria¡¯s focus on the once forbidden art had taught her that the greatest of his kind were often unpredictable, capable of overwhelming almost any foe if allowed sufficient time to prepare. If she wanted to end him, she would need to catch him off guard, away from all his ravens.


    The cat-sith and the goblin had yet to reveal the full extent of their powers, but she had already seen enough to know that they weren¡¯t to be casually trifled with. Beckard had demonstrated, through the use of his strange gauntlet, that he could attack at a speed she was unable to perceive. Frederick had shown that he had a way to resist her force magic, and his race was one known for disproportionate feats of strength and resilience. Goblin kings were often said to be able to lift giants with just one hand and fell castles with their bare fists. Victory was impossible lest she was able to poison them before they met on the battlefield. The newest neurotoxin in her kit would only simplify the process, but only if it worked. She could do nothing if they proved resistant.


    ¡°But I might consider it. If you explain,¡± she said.


    ¡°Stop asking questions, and I¡¯ll throw in an extra reward¡± said the celestial. ¡°How about this? I¡¯ll modify Sylvia¡¯s mind so she follows your every command.¡±


    Claire flashed the human a glare. ¡°I can easily get her to do my bidding even without your interference.¡±


    ¡°That would¡¯ve been a much better bluff had you not been on the verge of tears just earlier this morning,¡± said the old man.


    ¡°It was just a mood swing,¡± lied the lyrkress. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so sure about that,¡± he said, with a half-chortle. ¡°Despite how I may look and sound, I¡¯m actually a woman.¡± He tapped his wand on his nose and transformed into a wrinkly old witch. His features turned slender, and effeminate, but only for a moment. The facade crumbled almost immediately, with the old man descending into a cackling fit of laughter. ¡°All joking aside, I would really rather not have to explain the circumstances. If you don¡¯t want Sylvia to obey your every whim, then I can have it replaced with another reward. Name your price.¡±


    ¡°I want an explanation. Paid in advance.¡±


    The celestial sighed. ¡°So stubborn, so very stubborn.¡± He stuck the tip of his wand into his mouth, swapping it with his pipe only after failing to fill his lungs with smoke. ¡°Be reasonable, Milady. I¡¯m already giving you far more than your time¡¯s worth.¡±


    ¡°Liar.¡± She glared at him again. Another intentionally overdone display. ¡°They¡¯re all thrice ascended. I¡¯d be close if not already ascended by the time they die.¡±


    A smile crossed the old man¡¯s face. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d catch that.¡±


    The entertained smirk was met with a silent frown.


    ¡°Quite unfortunate, but no matter,¡± he said. ¡°How about this, then? I¡¯ll replace it with a total of 150 levels, free for you to distribute between your classes as you see fit.¡±


    ¡°And an immediate explanation.¡±


    Again, he sighed. ¡°I can give you a brief one, but nothing too detailed.¡±


    Claire frowned and crossed her arms. She didn¡¯t think that he would so easily yield the upper hand, but the conniving old bastard was distracted. He kept glancing at what she assumed to be an invisible box, and his wand never stopped moving, even when he held it in his grasp.


    ¡°Good enough.¡± She took a breath and narrowed her eyes, focusing her gaze on his expression.


    ¡°They¡¯ve been toying with magic that I¡¯ve expressly forbidden,¡± he said. ¡°I told them that death would follow if they continued to experiment with it, and I fully intend to deliver.¡±


    ¡°Why not do it yourself?¡±


    Alfred sighed. ¡°If I could, I would. I¡¯m under oath not to personally harm any individual still undergoing my trial.¡±


    ¡°You need a proxy to bypass the contract?¡±


    ¡°Yes, and it¡¯s either you or a horde of lords, and I¡¯d rather not wipe out the entire population. It took them quite some time to put the citadel together, and I can only imagine how long another group would need to establish a similar set of social structures.¡±


    ¡°Make one of the foxes do it.¡±


    ¡°Impossible,¡± scoffed the old man. ¡°I¡¯d just be brushed off. Most of them are too lazy to follow orders, and those that aren¡¯t would demand something far more unreasonable than a mere hundred and fifty levels.¡±


    ¡°Two hundred and fifty.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± He furrowed his brow.


    ¡°Two hundred and fifty, and you remove the obsession you imposed on me.¡±


    ¡°Cheeky brat,¡± he muttered to himself as he kneaded the bridge of his nose.


    She was mortal and he was not. No good would come of rousing his ire, but she continued to press him. The man had effectively declared that he couldn¡¯t hurt her; she had no trouble dealing with lords, and she was confident that a horde would do little more than provide a mountain of experience. Assuming the statement to be true, she would only be rewarded, regardless of whether she antagonised him or complied; if the existing lords were anything to go by, then it was not them, but Zelos that was the greatest threat.


    ¡°I cannot rid you of your catgirl fetish, and I wouldn¡¯t even if I could,¡± he said.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°You can¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°Of course not.¡± Alfred looked at her as he would an inept child struggling with a single digit computation. ¡°I wove it into the very fiber of your being. It isn¡¯t possible to remove it without your soul¡¯s immediate and irreversible destruction.¡±


    Claire frowned. There was no one to call his bluff, no one she could ask for any sort of verification. She wouldn¡¯t have been able to argue, even if he was lying to her face. The only thing she knew about her soul was that it was apparently handcrafted, which as far as she was concerned, meant absolutely nothing. There was no way for her to perceive it or associate either claim with any sort of tangible concept.


    All she had to go on was her ability to read him. She watched as his eyes twinkled, as he waved his legs under his desk, and as he took puffs from his pipe. He remained calm throughout the discussion. His hands never trembled, and his gaze never wavered. There was no sweat flowing down his brow. But she felt it in the tips of her ears, the very same feeling she so often got when she had to deal with unscrupulous, manipulative plutocrats with no talent for negotiation.


    He was lying.


    But she couldn¡¯t call his fib to focus. She didn¡¯t know exactly how he had lied; it would be difficult to pinpoint or explain the inconsistency lest he divulged any further details. And more importantly, it was too straightforward an approach.


    He had messed with her mind. It was only fair for her to return the favour.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t get rid of it, I¡¯ll kill every catgirl I meet,¡± she said.


    ¡°Impossible,¡± he scoffed. ¡°You won¡¯t be able to resist their allure.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± She revealed her jagged teeth with a wide grin. ¡°All I have to do is let go of my inhibitions.¡±


    The celestial didn¡¯t immediately catch the implication, so she raised a hand to her face and pointed at the scales that covered her cheeks.


    ¡°My mother,¡± she said, her words dripping with malice, ¡°was Sthenian.¡± It was a threat that played off her blood. And for once, it was not backed by her cervitaurian heritage.


    ¡°Sthenian?¡± The celestial drew a breath from his pipe as he wrinkled his brow. ¡°Ah, yes, that country.¡±


    Sthenia, the nation once ruled by the gorgonian lamias, had been a small but powerful kingdom. The average soldier was of such a quality that any other country would have branded its army as one comprised entirely of elites. And that statement held true, even when the serpentine domain was compared to a country as heavily militarised as Cadria.


    As far as economics were concerned, Sthenia was well off. It was one of the 47 territories within the great forest of Tal¡¯ihir, and one of the scant few to border not only the countries both in and out of the woodland, but also the vast treasure trove that was the Ryllian Sea. Par¡¯svaran, its portside capital city was a center for trade; the nation more than prospered from the tariffs it levied from those that passed through its lands. But despite its stable monarchy, ruled by the purebred gorgon line of House Eurylia, Sthenia ultimately fell. It was defeated by a certain Cadrian general, on account of a scheme that left the city undefended and its castle in his hands.


    ¡°It nearly slipped my mind, with how short lived it was,¡± he said. ¡°Only five hundred years or so. Such a shame.¡±


    Virrilius was undoubtedly a brilliant commander, but his strategy was one enabled only through the exploitation of the underpopulation that was Sthenia¡¯s greatest weakness. The snake-ruled country had struggled with a lack of heads since its very inception, with the inadequacy stemming primarily from a lack of males. Sthenians practiced monogamy, but halfbred or otherwise, only one in every fifty was born not a woman. They had to seek mates from outside sources, and it just so happened that they possessed all the right traits to secure them. Lizardmen were attracted to their glimmering scales, humans were drawn to their voluptuous breasts and their hips mesmerized even the shiest of halflings. Though their lower bodies were almost entirely snake-like, their thighs were just pronounced enough for elven men to be unable to contain themselves from stealing the occasional glance. And yet, Sthenia still found itself with a skewed gender ratio and a lack of a population.


    ¡°If only lamias were slightly more attractive. Cat ears would have remedied the issue. That, I can say for certain.¡±


    Though the occasional lad was certainly lured in by a serpent¡¯s beauty, most shied away. They knew that the species was one to be avoided. Because right after the deed was the only time the otherwise charming snake-tailed ladies ever felt the impulse that most others described as hunger. The foreign sensation was one that not all of them could fight, and those with less restraint would consume their mates by way of instinct. It was difficult for a potential victim to escape, as they would almost certainly be captured in the serpents¡¯ embrace.


    Claire had no idea if she would be affected by the condition that plagued her mother¡¯s bloodline. Her ascension had already taught her to sense and fight hunger, the strange sensation that drove her to crave flesh, but there was no way to draw a definitive conclusion without putting it to the test. And Alfred knew that too. He couldn¡¯t dismiss the chance that she would default to the behaviour burnt into her blood.


    ¡°Every catgirl I meet will die.¡±


    The words were vomit-inducing¡ªthe thought of losing control and surrendering to the undesired, foreign desire made her nauseous enough to hurl¡ªbut she spoke them calmly nonetheless. The words were a weapon, and no self-respecting Cadrian would relinquish a spear out of an emotion as trivial as revulsion.


    But that therein lay the problem.


    She was the only one that saw it as a weapon.


    ¡°Not to worry. I¡¯ve already considered the possibility of a catgirl falling victim to a lamia, and I¡¯ve made it so they¡¯re unlikely to find the experience unpleasant.¡±


    It was only as he spoke that the lyrkress realised her mistake. Humans were known primarily for their voracious sexual appetites. The average hairless ape was considered relatively normal and sported only a few odd interests, but as a whole, their tastes were as broad as the species was widespread. Any concept that could be described was one that would provide some human or another with a sense of gratification. It was often said that those further ascended had a greater array of acceptable terms. And the man before her stood at the species¡¯ apex.


    He was just one step away from true godhood.


    If he was truly as perverse as he was powerful, then it would only stand to reason that he would think of the consumption of one¡¯s mate as just another, everyday, run of the mill activity.


    Claire took a deep breath. She doubted that anything she came up with would invoke his displeasure or disgust. ¡°Fine.¡± She paused for a moment to steady her voice. ¡°I¡¯ll settle for 250 levels.¡±


    ¡°Then two fifty levels it i¡ª¡± The old man froze in the middle of waving his wand, but it was too late. He had already cast his spell.


    Log Entry 3930


    The quest ¡®Eliminate Insurgents¡¯ has been altered. The immediate ascension has been replaced with 250 levels to be freely distributed.


    ¡°It was supposed to be 150.¡± He heaved a sigh and scratched the back of his head. ¡°Fine, you got me. I won¡¯t change the terms any further, but don¡¯t think you¡¯ve won just yet.¡± The magical tree branch was waved through the air again. The motion was lethargic and almost haphazard, but it did its job nonetheless.


    Log Entry 3931


    You have received a blessing from the celestial of life and creation. Any catgirl that is attracted to you, physically or emotionally, will develop a vore fetish upon the receipt of your touch.


    Though disturbed, Claire deigned not to offer him a response. She pretended not to see the intrusive entry and continued on as she would have without it. ¡°Where are they?¡±


    ¡°Catgirls? You won¡¯t find any in here, unfortunately.¡±


    ¡°The targets.¡±


    ¡°Ah, right.¡± The human tapped his wand against his chin. ¡°It looks like they¡¯re in the citadel for now. You¡¯ll have to act quickly, if you don¡¯t want to miss them.¡±


    The lyrkress crossed her arms. ¡°Then stop wasting my time and send me back.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do you one better than that.¡±


    With another seemingly directionless wave of the magic stick, he sent her mind back into her body. The sudden shift in the scenery left her with a mild migraine, and it took her a moment to adjust, as it had all the previous times.


    When she finally raised her head, she found not one but three portals, each with their exits clearly revealed. The first was the one that she had already been aware of, the dimensional tear that led back to the maze. The second provided an entryway into a world with an upside-down marsh, and the third led to a seaside cliff. Why even bother giving me a choice?


    She stepped through the final portal immediately and warped straight to Sky Lagoon. She remained perfectly still for roughly a minute thereafter, smiling only as she felt the celestial¡¯s gaze disappear. Victory was sweet, but its flavour lingered in her mind only briefly. It was soon replaced by a flicker of hope. There was a chance that she hadn¡¯t been abandoned.


    The lyrkress didn¡¯t dare jump to any conclusions, but Alfred had revealed that Sylvia hadn¡¯t vanished without purpose. It was possible, likely even, that the fox had failed to return in the interest of avoiding the demigod¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°She didn¡¯t leave because she was fed up with me.¡±


    Repeating the phrase under her breath, Claire spread her arms wide, leapt off the cliff, and fell into the sky.


    ¡°Now I just have to find her.¡±


    Catgirl detector was still unable to mark the sneaky vixen on her radar, but tracking the half-elf¡¯s father provided an immediate response. He was gathered alongside her remaining targets, all of whom were located atop the smallest floating island placed within the artificial domain. They were all present, and the lyrkress was confident that sticking her ear where it didn¡¯t belong would at least tip her off to the runaway fox¡¯s whereabouts.

 Chapter 129 - Two Blades and a Tail X

    Chapter 129 - Two Blades and a Tail X


    Oranges and reds filled the sky as the sun made its way beneath the horizon. Reflecting the firmament was a similarly coloured ocean, sparkling as would a sea of jewels. Its otherwise infinite glimmer was broken apart by long shadows, cast by ancient palms, colossal chains, and floating islands, with the lattermost culprits the most prominent.


    Standing atop one such airborne rock was a confused halfbreed. Her frame was hidden almost entirely beneath her cloak, with only the tip of her tail protruding out from beneath it. She stood at the island¡¯s edge, brow furrowed and ears strained, listening carefully to the eerily silent landscape that was the citadel. On any other night, the settlement would have been bustling with noise; it was already late enough for most of its populace to have started drowning itself in liquor, and yet, she heard not the rambling of drunks nor the clinking of mugs, only the gentle waves below and the obnoxious birds above. Even the wind was deathly silent. She could feel it against her face, but the breeze was hushed as a corpse with a knife stuck in its throat.


    Though filled with a sense of foreboding, she soon shook off her worries and walked through the town, travelling not through the main street, but rather the back alleys.


    Her trek through the back roads soon led her to encounter a bizarre creature, a palm-sized duck made of some sort of metal. The construct, the artifact, kept its head focused on her as she walked, its eyes glowing with a soft red light. The unnatural stare sent shivers down her spine, but she ignored it and slipped into another alley, out of its line of sight. She was almost certain that she had escaped, but turning around and looking down the new street revealed another identical individual. Darting away from it, she hurried through the town as quickly as she could, but the birds were omnipresent. Their ranks were filled not only with an excessive number of ducks, but also the occasional raven. Unlike most of their peers, who either fled or attacked on sight, the black feathered birds remained as silent observers, flying off whenever she drew near.


    Annoyed by their stares, she tried mowing them down with shards of ice, but they would always retreat before her attacks could reach. They slipped right out of her range, often by scampering along the walls like ants. She tried to nab them with force magic, but she never quite managed to catch them. Somehow or another, they were resisting her vectors, just like the purple-skinned goblin.


    Claire was tempted to rush the artifacts down and destroy them, but shirked the idea upon recalling her priorities. Meeting with the cat-sith was more important.


    It didn¡¯t take long for her to arrive at the temple that was his home. She didn¡¯t knock immediately, taking a moment instead to consider the choice presented by the celestial. Alfred wanted her to kill at least half the group¡¯s members, and his demand wasn¡¯t one that could be easily dismissed. Its reward was enticing, but she still found it difficult to say if she was better off taking his side. Allying herself with the cat-sith didn¡¯t appear entirely unviable, in part because she wanted to do the opposite of what the old human asked, and in part because it was difficult to identify the party pressured by the status quo. But whatever the case, she decided to postpone the decision. Killing them while they were all together was beyond her means.


    Decision made, she raised her hand and rapped her knuckles against the door¡¯s wooden frame. It shook when her fingers made contact, but there was no sound. It remained perfectly silent, even as it opened to reveal its owner.


    Beckard ran his mouth as he greeted her. Reading his lips revealed that he had bid her good evening, but again, she heard nothing. The only noises her ears detected were the very same ambient sounds that had been present upon her landing.


    ¡°I can¡¯t hear you.¡± Even her own voice was silent. The words vanished from her lips, dissipating before they reached her ears.


    Chuckling to himself, Beckard produced a piece of metal from his robe and presented it atop one of his paws. It was an odd rectangular clip about as long as a finger and thin as a piece of paper. Though its shape gave away very little about its function, she understood upon its receipt that she was meant to crush it between her fingers. Her artifact skill had injected its use straight into her mind, even though she had never seen anything even remotely like it.


    Following the internal instructions, she wrapped it in her palm, channeled her magic through it, and squeezed. It crumbled immediately, turning into a thousand bits and pieces of dust. Her sense of hearing was restored as its powdered specks slipped from her grasp, with all the sounds that had previously slipped her by suddenly hitting her like a brick to the face. The shouting of drunkards, the clinking of cups, and the crackling of flames, accompanied by a hundred beating hearts, some closer, some further away.


    ¡°Well then.¡± The cat brought a paw to his chin as he looked between her face and her hand. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you would know how to use it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fiercely intelligent,¡± replied Claire. Her ears twitched wildly as she involuntarily listened in on the drunks down the street. The individual voices were distinct enough for her to pick Lova out from the crowd. The moth was speaking to what was most likely herself, reciting again and again an awkward confession of love.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure you are.¡± He smiled calmly. ¡°Now, what can I do for you today?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m looking for Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes, of course. She¡¯s a little busy at the moment, but you¡¯ve come to the right place.¡±


    ¡°With what?¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, I can¡¯t say. It happens to be rather¡­ confidential.¡± Beckard raised a paw to his chin and paused. His eyes glazed momentarily as he nodded to himself and raised two of his claws. ¡°What do you think of Alfred?¡± he asked, after lifting his head to face her again.


    Claire narrowed her eyes and bared her fangs. ¡°He cursed me,¡± she hissed. ¡°I¡¯d stab him if I could.¡± The aggressive display was maintained for exactly two seconds before she pulled her hood over her eyes and took a series of long, drawn out breaths, each slightly shorter than the last. ¡°Why?¡± She didn¡¯t speak again until her chest was no longer heaving.


    ¡°No reason,¡± he said, with a smile. ¡°Now, you said you wanted to see Sylvia?¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°Follow me.¡±


    Nodding again, the blueblood silently trailed him up two flights of stairs, only one of which was truly a part of the building, and moved towards the subspace that was meant to be his office. When she entered the room, she found exactly what catgirl detector had described. Three of her four remaining targets were present and accounted for. They were all sitting around, idling, with some looking more bored than others. Zelos had his hands clasped and his eyes closed, Frederick was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, and the cybernetic huskar was reading through a piece of parchment with a glass of wine in hand.


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    ¡°Claire? You¡¯re here early,¡± said Zelos. He smiled softly as he looked at her and pointed to one of the chairs placed throughout the room. ¡°You¡¯re free to take a seat, if you¡¯d like.¡±


    ¡°Hello,¡± she said, as she scanned the room.


    ¡°Expected later, no now.¡± The goblin was the next to speak up. He grunted and waved. The motions themselves were nothing out of the ordinary, but Claire kept a careful eye on him nonetheless. Something about his tone was setting off her senses, even though she saw no reason for him to lie.


    ¡°What the hell, Beck!¡± The huskar shouted as he tightened his grip and squished the scroll in his robotic hand. ¡°You let her in? Are you insane? She¡¯s going to ruin everything!¡±


    The elf chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be fine. You¡¯re overreacting, Archie.¡±


    ¡°Overreacting? Overreacting!?¡± He slammed his cup onto the desk. ¡°She snuck into my house and strangled me! I have every right to react however I want!¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± said Claire. ¡°Or I¡¯ll do it again.¡± She flashed him a glare and briefly froze him in place. His voice irked her; the artifact-made sound waves sent shivers down her spine, and the urge to silence him grew every time he spoke.


    Beckard clapped his paws together and climbed up on his desk. ¡°Now, now, why don¡¯t we all settle down?¡± The sound produced by the padded mitts was too quiet to be described as a clap. It was barely audible, but the message was conveyed. Archibald was the only one not to calm, but not because he was unwilling to comply. Claire continued to look daggers at him until a bead of sweat formed on his brow. Only then did she find herself satisfied enough to turn to the elf.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Sylvia?¡±


    Zelos didn¡¯t answer immediately. Directing his gaze to Beckard, he waited for a nod of approval before raising his voice. ¡°She¡¯s doing me a favour.¡±


    ¡°Related to escaping Llystletein?¡±


    The boy-sized man blinked a few times before nodding along. ¡°Something to that end, yes. How did you know?¡±


    ¡°I just did.¡±


    He paused again with his lips pursed, a silent confirmation that proved the theory correct.


    ¡°Grab records for us, she is.¡± The wart-skinned smith stepped in and picked up where the elf left off.


    ¡°Fre¡ª¡± Archibald stepped forward and began to shout, but Beckard raised a paw and stopped him short. The huskar was still fuming; he didn¡¯t quite seem to want to abide by the order, but he soon sat back down after taking a handful of deep breaths.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Claire. She¡¯ll be back shortly,¡± said the cat-sith.


    The lyrkress paused for a moment to scan her targets. Only Archibald was suspicious. Frederick was neutral, and the remaining two were fairly amicable, but something in the back of her mind told her that it was best not to press them for details. Playing dumb and ending the conversation seemed like the safest choice, if she wanted them to let down their guards.


    ¡°Where is she now?¡± But Claire pressed on nonetheless. No matter what happened, she was confident in her ability to talk her way through it. None of the four were as shrewd as those that thrived in the eleven-horned king¡¯s court.


    A number of uneasy gazes were cast around the room, with all of them ultimately finding their way to the priest. ¡°I suppose there¡¯s no reason not to tell you,¡± he half-muttered. He pursed his snout and placed his hands behind his back as he raised his voice. ¡°You¡¯re sure to find out in a few days either way, and I doubt that it¡¯s possible for anything to go wrong with how meticulous our plans are.¡±


    ¡°Sylvia might slip up and tell her even if we don¡¯t,¡± added the elf.


    Archibald clicked his non-existent tongue, but he was the only one to complain. Frederick seemed to care very little; he had already disengaged from the conversation in favour of muttering something about new weapon designs under his breath.


    ¡°My thoughts exactly,¡± said the oversized cat. ¡°As Fred mentioned earlier, Sylvia is retrieving a number of records from the lost library on our behalf.¡±


    ¡°Why does that need to be kept a secret?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± The fae cat tapped his paws against his desk. ¡°Well, it doesn¡¯t, exactly, but the less we have to talk about it, the better. Alfred might catch on if we ramble for too long, not that I think it would really matter even if he did. As all powerful as he is, there isn¡¯t much he can do with all the contractual obligations he¡¯s placed on himself.¡±


    ¡°You couldn¡¯t do it yourselves?¡±


    The lyrkress narrowed her eyes. Both the idea and its explanation left her with nothing but more questions and suspicions. If her authority skill was not blatantly lying to her, then even she had some degree of access to the lost library. She was unwilling to believe that they had no way to inspect its records. There wasn¡¯t any reason for them to be asking Sylvia, unless they were seeking some sort of confidential or otherwise forbidden information.


    ¡°Not exactly. We¡¯re not really after the records in the first place,¡± explained Zelos. ¡°We needed someone to test one of the artifacts we made, and Sylvie¡¯s the only one of us that wouldn¡¯t trip any of Alfred¡¯s alarms.¡±


    ¡°Think no will notice,¡± grunted Frederick. ¡°Work way we think then he no check no see.¡±


    Oops.


    Claire¡¯s force detection went off as the goblin spoke, providing the perfect excuse to avert her gaze. The distortion on the wall began as a tiny, rectangular hole, but it soon twisted and grew, ballooning into a portal akin to the one that Alfred had provided her, a veritable maelstrom of swirling vectors too numerous to count. Upon further inspection, she found that it most closely resembled the rift that led to Crabby Crags. Its other side was obscured, and she could see nothing but the distortion until its creator emerged.


    The caster was well over one and a half meters tall and had her face obscured by a large stack of books, but her identity was apparent nonetheless, revealed by the tail poking out from behind her. The most obvious giveaway, however, was related not to her physique, but rather her voice. She hummed one of her favourite tunes as she plopped the stolen documents atop Beckard¡¯s desk and stretched out her arms.


    ¡°Whew! I think that¡¯s everything. I grabbed everything I could find.¡± Sylvia wiped the sweat off her brow and turned around, only to find a hand around her wrist.


    Log Entry 3932


    You have completed one of ¡°Eliminate Insurgents¡± objectives.


    The remaining objectives will be active for another 71 hours.


    Her captor had already started dragging her away by the time she realised what was happening. ¡°H-huh? Claire? What¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re coming with me,¡± said the humanoid lyrkress.


    ¡°Wait, wait! I¡¯m not done yet! I¡¯m supposed to help them with some more stuff!¡±


    Claire continued to drag her for a few seconds before coming to an abrupt stop. ¡°Fine.¡±


    ¡°No, no, it¡¯s okay.¡± Zelos smiled softly as he walked over to the desk and opened one of the books. ¡°We can handle the rest on our own.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ okay!¡± Sylvia pulled a large rune-covered key out of her tail and threw it to her father as the tug on her wrist returned. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll see you all later then. Bye Dad, bye everyone!¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Sylvie,¡± said Zelos. ¡°Do make sure you come back when it¡¯s time.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we will!¡±


    After hauling the person-sized fox girl out of the room, Claire reached for the door, but stopped shy of closing it. She poked her head back through the crack and directed her gaze at the resident purple-skinned wart bag. ¡°Frederick.¡±


    ¡°Want what, lassie?¡± asked the goblin.


    ¡°Have you finished adjusting my spear?¡±


    ¡°Made done, I do,¡± he said. ¡°Go forge and Murtt give.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Her last bit of business concluded, she closed the door behind her and descended the ethereal staircase. The subspace¡¯s entrance faded immediately as she stepped away from it, vanishing into one of the cathedral¡¯s walls as would a figment of her imagination.

 Chapter 130 - Two Blades and a Tail XI

    Chapter 130 - Two Blades and a Tail XI


    Without speaking a word, Claire dragged Sylvia down two flights of stairs and into the cathedral. She peeled her hood back, raised her ears overhead, and strained them before finally turning her eyes on the fox-tailed elf.


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ Claire?¡± Sylvia scratched one of her ears as she shifted her eyes between the lyrkress and the freshly hidden staircase. ¡°Can you explain what¡¯s going on? You¡¯re acting a little weird.¡±


    The lyrkress remained silent. Still in her humanoid form, she scanned their surroundings one more time, retracted the spike in her chest, and wrapped her arms around the other girl¡¯s back. It was a tight embrace, only emphasized by the way she buried her face in the vixen¡¯s collar.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°H-huh?¡± The half-elf blinked. Thrice.


    ¡°Sorry I was being so stubborn. I didn¡¯t mean for you to get fed up with me.¡± Her voice trembled as she tightened her grip.


    It was all her fault. She was supposed to be adept at reading others. Her father had taught her, over and over and over, to read the slightest change in expression and correctly interpret the sentiments buried therein. But she had failed. The entire conflict could have been avoided, had she paid any more attention, had she not been so arrogant to think her first impression correct.


    Sylvia remained silent, but not because she was engaged in the sort of internal, emotional feud that plagued the other halfbreed. She had no idea what was happening, but awkwardly returned the hug nonetheless.


    ¡°I uhmmm¡­ I¡¯m not fed up with you. Or at least I don¡¯t think I am.¡±


    ¡°But you were. You didn¡¯t talk to me for a day.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s what you mean!¡± The taller girl giggled and patted the sniffling lyrkress on the head. ¡°So umm¡­ I know you¡¯re really really worked up, but¡­ I wasn¡¯t really that mad at you. I think I stopped being mad by the time you killed the lord the first time.¡±


    Claire froze. Her entire body suddenly stiffened as her almost teary eyes began to twitch. It had dawned on her, before Sylvia had finished speaking, that her greatest mistake was not misunderstanding the fox¡¯s intentions, but doubting her own judgement and allowing her emotions to spiral out of control.


    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you say anything?¡± The lyrkress¡¯ voice fell flat, not the usual kind of flat, but one that was clearly entirely deprived of amusement.


    ¡°Ummm¡­ that¡¯s because Dad started talking right into my head and asked me to help him with something. I didn¡¯t want to start talking because I thought I was gonna accidentally talk about it, and then Al would catch on, so I just didn¡¯t say anything.¡±


    Again, the lyrkress twitched. ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you make me a pillow when I went to sleep?¡± Her voice was lower, and her fingers were trembling. ¡°My hips were screaming when I woke up.¡± Slowly, she pushed Sylvia away and shot her an indignant glare.


    ¡°Oh¡­ right¡­¡± The elf turned back into a fox and averted her gaze. ¡°I forgot.¡±


    The statement was followed by a loud bang.


    ¡°C-Claire!?¡±


    ¡°Shut up. Leave me alone.¡±


    Her face red and her ears twitching, Claire rammed her forehead into the nearest wall and left a number of cracks along the wall. The goblin king would eventually discover them and grumble, but that wasn¡¯t any of her business.


    It took her a few minutes to calm down, finally wipe the blood off her brow, and exit the cathedral with her fuzzy four-legged companion held captive in her arms. For once, the lyrkress wasn¡¯t thinking of her next kill. She was already satisfied with the amount of experience she had gained throughout the day, and it was almost time for her to retire for the evening. She was tired; the full day she had spent thinking and fighting had taken its toll.


    Sylvia was also on the more lethargic side. She was a lot less talkative than usual, and her responses were shorter and more to the point. Her tail only ever swished slowly, and every once in a while, she would yawn or rub her eyes with her paws.


    ¡°Why are there so many golems?¡± Claire broke the silence as she gazed upon the countless, glowing red eyes strewn throughout the environment.


    ¡°I think they¡¯re supposed to be part of some sort of defensive network that Dad¡¯s artificer friend set up,¡± answered the pet. ¡°Everyone¡¯s been saying they¡¯re really good at what they do, but I just think they¡¯re kinda weird.¡±


    The bluescale nodded, but said nothing. The lack of a verbal response led to another extended, awkward silence. The third that they had shared already.


    ¡°Hey, Claire?¡± The next time it was broken, it was by Sylvia, right as they turned onto the street that housed Frederick¡¯s forge.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I left without saying anything.¡± Her ears drooped as she spoke. ¡°I didn¡¯t realise that you were going to panic like that.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t panicking.¡±


    ¡°Yes you were! You totally were!¡± She pulled a rune-covered rock out of her tail and presented it. ¡°I just checked the records!¡±


    ¡°Shush.¡± Claire tightened her grip on the pet as she shifted her eyes away. ¡°I was trying to tell you that I didn¡¯t feel like talking about it. Without saying it.¡±


    ¡°I know!¡±


    ¡°Then wh¡ª¡±


    ¡°But I do.¡± The furball craned her neck backwards and looked her owner in the eyes.


    Frowning, Claire came to a stop in front of a nearby post and placed the fox on top of it. ¡°Sylvia, I¡­¡± She took a deep breath and turned back into a humanoid, so that they were eye-level. ¡°Fine,¡± she muttered. ¡°Maybe I did panic. Just a little.¡± The blueblood crossed her arms. ¡°But so what? It doesn¡¯t matter.¡±


    She knew she had issues. Following the death of her mother, her father transformed from strict and unsupportive to a veritable tyrant, a zealous monster that looked only at results and sought war at every turn. He stopped acknowledging her talents, and disparaged her for every tiny imperfection. In the end, he even tried to kill her. The experience had changed her. But that didn¡¯t mean she had any intention of facing her fears head on.


    She didn¡¯t want to admit that she was afraid of being left alone again. At least not unless it was on her own terms.


    ¡°It does matter!¡± Sylvia returned to her full-sized elven form. And after donning the tunic hidden in her tail, gave the lyrkress another hug. Unlike the last time, Claire hadn¡¯t retracted her spike. The icy blade dug into the oversized fairy¡¯s ribs, but she pulled her closer nonetheless. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry. I¡¯ll say something next time.¡±


    ¡°No you won¡¯t.¡± Claire tried to push her away, but the half-elf¡¯s grip was solid.


    ¡°Yes, I will Claire! Trust me!¡±


    ¡°I did.¡± Claire took a breath. ¡°That¡¯s why this happened.¡± She grit her teeth. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have.¡±


    ¡°Geez¡­ you¡¯re so stubborn,¡± complained the fox, with a small smile. She nuzzled her cheek against the lykress¡¯ forehead as her tail happily wagged from side to side. ¡°Just so you know, I¡¯m a lot better at reading between the lines than you¡¯ve been giving me credit for.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right,¡± huffed Sylvia.


    ¡°I do,¡± insisted Claire. ¡°I just¡­ got too caught up in my own thoughts.¡± She retracted the icy protrusion that had torn open her pet¡¯s dress and returned the hug. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°No problem!¡± chirped the vixen. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re feeling better now.¡± She tried to let go and step back, but the arms around her waist kept her where she was. ¡°Uhm¡­ Claire?¡± When she looked down, she found that the half-snake had buried her face in her chest.


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    ¡°You remind me of my mother.¡±


    ¡°H-huh?¡± Sylvia blinked. ¡°I do?¡±


    ¡°She was just as stupid.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± It took a moment for the not-compliment to sink in. And only then did the look on her face go from one of confusion to one of indignance. ¡°Hey, wait! What¡¯s that supposed to mean!?¡±


    A small smile appeared on the lyrkress¡¯ face. ¡°Sometimes, she ran into walls because she wasn¡¯t looking where she was going.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! I¡¯m not that stupid!¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡± Claire extended her shard, just a tiny bit, and lightly prodded her captive with its tip. ¡°My mother wasn¡¯t stupid.¡±


    Log Entry 3933


    True Ice Manipulation has reached level 25.


    ¡°You just said she was!¡±


    ¡°Only I¡¯m allowed to call her stupid.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s so unf¡ª¡± Sylvia was cut off with a squeeze. ¡°Hey! Stop that! What was that even for!?¡±


    ¡°I just felt like it.¡± Claire paused for another few moments before finally letting go and pushing the fox away. ¡°You can go back now. I can manage on my own.¡±


    Sylvia placed a finger on her chin and frowned. ¡°I think I¡¯ll stay.¡± Her body glowed with a bright light as it shrank, down to its usual, more fairy-like size. ¡°Dad already said that they were gonna finish the rest without me, which means I¡¯d probably just get in the way. And plus, following you around is way more fun.¡±


    Smiling softly, Claire spun around and continued towards the forge. ¡°Then let¡¯s go.¡± Following the tiny pixie¡¯s cue, she went through a transformation of her own. Her form was made to look perfectly lamian, with her ears the only exception. The fluffy hearing aids were pulled into the hood of her cloak and obscured, as to minimize the attention they would attract.


    Though it was late, the many craftsmen that worked at the smithy were still slaving away. Their hammers pounded against their anvils nonstop, and the blades they forged sizzled like molten rock as they were quenched. If the complaints they touted were any indication, they were working overtime against their will. Some were ranting about deadlines and the associated lack of artistry, while others shouted about missing materials and demanding superiors.


    Claire pinpointed the most familiar voices and made her way over to their station with Sylvia in tow. Though she caught Myrtle off guard, and nearly made the plant hammer one of her own tendrils, the retrieval went about as smoothly as she could have reasonably expected. She was back to walking around town just a few minutes after she first snuck into the forge.


    Looking the weapon up and down revealed no obvious differences, but she did have to admit that it was easier to swing. It seemed to be able to go exactly where she wanted, despite looking more or less identical.


    ¡°I just remembered something.¡± She sheathed the blade in a leather cap and strapped it to her back as she spoke. ¡°Something important.¡±


    ¡°You did?¡± asked Sylvia, from atop her shoulder. ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯m listening. What is it?¡±


    ¡°Alfred already knows.¡±


    The fairy¡¯s eyes opened wide. ¡°H-he does? How did he find out? Wait¡­ but then¡­ how much does he know?¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°He gave me a quest. To capture you, and kill them.¡±


    ¡°Oh crap. He probably knows everything.¡± Sylvia placed both paws on her snout, before peaking out from behind her paws. ¡°Wait¡­ you¡¯re not going to try to do it, are you?¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to let you kill Dad!¡±


    ¡°I only need two of them, and I don¡¯t particularly dislike your father.¡±


    Though she certainly did harbour some degree of resentment, the elf had been one of the more amicable folks, often offering his help both when she did and didn¡¯t need it. He was pushy, but not unpleasant, and most important of all, she knew how difficult it would be to take him down. If she was to kill two of them, one would have to be Archibald, and the other was a toss-up between the cat and the goblin, depending on which she could catch off guard.


    ¡°Whew.¡± Sylvia pressed a hand on her chest. ¡°Wait! That¡¯s not any better! Don¡¯t kill any of them! We need all four of them for the plan to work!¡±


    ¡°What is the plan?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna explain it unless you promise you¡¯re not gonna help Alfred.¡± Sylvia puffed up her cheeks and crossed her arms.


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± Claire frowned. ¡°I can¡¯t. I¡¯m not strong enough to kill your father¡¯s friends.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± The fairy zipped in front of the lyrkress¡¯ face and cast a suspicious glare.


    ¡°Really.¡±


    ¡°Then a stampede it is.¡± No sooner had she made the declaration than a third voice entered the conversation. Its owner almost seemed to phase into existence, appearing where there was previously nothing but shadow. Though he seemed average from afar, the proximity revealed that Alfred was a giant of a man. Despite his thin and lanky frame, he stood at a height that towered over even her lyrkrian form.


    ¡°A-Al!?¡± squeaked Sylvia. ¡°H-how long have you been there!?¡±


    ¡°This whole time, my dear child,¡± he said with a frown. ¡°I¡¯m very disappointed in you, Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°I know, Al¡­ I know. But I¡­ just really want to leave.¡±


    The human shook his head. ¡°Well, there¡¯s that, but that isn¡¯t what I was referring to.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± the fairy tilted her head.


    ¡°I was watching the whole time. I can¡¯t believe you left it at comforting her. You had two perfectly good chances to turn that into a sexual enc¡ª¡±


    A blade cut him off before he could finish the sentence. A spear was stabbed straight through the bridge of his nose, its tip coated with a thick layer of poison, but it failed to kill or even harm him. Ignoring the lack of damage, his assailant continued to attack. Claire tried every weapon at her disposal, her blades, her ice magic, and her force magic, but none of it worked. All of her strikes phased right through his body. Even though the forces made it clear that he wasn¡¯t just a projection.


    His frame distorted each time she struck it, but she felt no feedback. Her attacks were being redirected elsewhere; it was like the man himself was a dimensional rift, a portal to some other space.


    ¡°Oh, how nice it is to be young.¡±


    With a chuckle, he snapped his fingers and summoned his wand. A thousand different vectors fired from its tip and pushed her into the ground. They were surprisingly gentle; they held her down but refrained from rubbing her face against the stone. And yet, she was unable to resist. There were too many different forces, and each that she rejected would immediately be replaced by another.


    Log Entry 3934


    Force Resistance has reached level 7.


    ¡°Now, where were we?¡± He turned back to Sylvia and brought a hand to his beard. ¡°Ah, yes. That¡¯s right. I¡¯m disappointed and very hurt, but I¡¯m not entirely unreasonable. I¡¯ll give you a chance to make it up to me.¡±


    Sylvia gulped. ¡°W-what¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°If you help her,¡± he pointed at Claire, ¡°finish her quest, then I¡¯ll warp you out of Llystletein and send you out on a little adventure. What do you think? It¡¯s a rather good deal, if I do say so myself.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s asking way too much! I¡¯m not gonna kill my dad, and I¡¯m not gonna let anyone else do it either!¡±


    Alfred smiled. ¡°Well, whatever the case, you have a few more days to decide.¡± He tapped his staff against the ground three times. With each moment of contact came a powerful ripple, an intense blast of magical energy that threatened to rob Claire of her consciousness. She had to grit her teeth to hold on, and even then, she was nearly pushed beyond the brink. ¡°The horde will be arriving first thing tomorrow morning.¡± Tipping his oversized, pointed hat, the celestial began to fade away. The forces that kept Claire pinned weakened just enough for her to look up at his face.


    ¡°Good luck, both of you.¡±


    A glance was enough to tell her everything she needed to know.


    The looming fear of death was one that inspired panic and terror; the undesired circumstances would have left anyone else annoyed, anxious, or frustrated. The old demigod, however, was none of those things.


    ¡°I look forward to seeing how long you¡¯ll last.¡±


    He was simply entertained.


    ___


    Claire


    Health: 12270/12270


    Mana: 14540/14540


    Divinity: 5/5


    Health Regen: 4702/hour (9405/hour)


    Mana Regen: 11448/hour


    Divinity Regen: 5/hour


    Ability Scores - 1278 Points Available


    - Agility: 1030


    - Dexterity: 830


    - Spirit: 650


    - Strength: 1178


    - Vitality: 1045


    - Wisdom: 1272


    Racial Class: Frostblight Lyrkress - Level 124.14


    - Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts - Level 27.15


    - Frostblight Lyrkrian Shapeshifting - Level 23.31


    - Paralyzing Gaze - Level 17.04


    - Thermodynamic Regulation - Level 12.87


    - True Ice Manipulation - Level 25.00


    Primary Class: Llystletein Bloodthief - Level 116.50


    - Assassinate - Level 22.06


    - Bloodthief - Level 29.24


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00


    - Cloak and Dagger - Level 11.30


    - Envenom - Level 28.48


    - Manathief - Level 25.67


    - Phantom Blade - Level 26.34


    - Severantus¡¯ Call


    Secondary Class: Llystletein Vector Mage - Level 114.92


    - Force Resistance - Level 7.84


    - Catgirl Detector V. 0.47 - Level 16.35


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 22.32


    - Spirit Sorcery - Level 38.11


    - Vector Manipulation - Level 41.07


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 4.00


    - Axe Mastery - Level 15.04


    - Club Mastery - Level 17.50


    - Cooking - Level 1.04


    - Dagger Mastery - Level 16.47


    - Dancing - Level 8.92


    - Digging - Level 15.70


    - English - Level 25


    - Greatsword Mastery - Level 11.42


    - Llystletein Authority - Level 10.74


    - Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 30.67


    - Marish - Level 19.10


    - Sewing - Level 1.43


    - Sneaking - Level 20.67


    - Spear Mastery - Level 14.26


    - Sword Mastery - Level 10.76


    - Throwing - Level 12.94


    - Whip Mastery - Level 6.86

 Chapter 131 - Two Blades and a Tail XII

    Chapter 131 - Two Blades and a Tail XII


    ¡°What do you think, Beck?¡± Zelos rubbed his temples and heaved a sigh as he spoke. His daughter and her friend had returned shortly after their initial departure to serve as bearers of bad news. Alfred had, one way or another, caught onto their plan. All four members of the Relic Hunters had demanded that the girls provide more details, but they had none to give. The scant bit of information that they managed to get out of them was effectively inconsequential.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t ideal, but we¡¯ll manage,¡± said the cat. ¡°We just have to stall for time.¡±


    The deadline was non-negotiable. The artifacts that Sylvia had installed in Alfred¡¯s atheneum needed roughly three days to arm. Without a full charge, they would be incapable of deactivating the library¡¯s defenses and laying its contents bare. As much as he wished otherwise, it was a necessary step. The bookcases were lined with not just historical accounts otherwise lost to time, but also a series of vials accessible by none but the head librarian himself.


    ¡°Archibald, do you think it¡¯d be possible for you to install a large barrier around the citadel?¡± asked the priest.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t impossible, but it¡¯ll take more mana than we have as a group.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to ask the others to pitch in,¡± muttered the hairless feline.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if we should. We¡¯ll be in trouble if they don¡¯t have enough to defend themselves,¡± said Zelos. ¡°Every death makes him stronger.¡±


    Those that died in Llystletein would have their souls harvested by Alfred. After infusing them with his power in life, he would distill them in death and convert them to ether, and store them in the vials that cluttered his shelves.


    Beckard stretched out his arms and rested his face on top of them. ¡°This would have been far easier with a warden among our ranks, but there¡¯s not much that can be done. We¡¯ll just have to play with the hand we were dealt.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re worrying too much,¡± Archibald scoffed. ¡°My artifacts are far more effective than some fresh soul warden.¡±


    ¡°I hope so,¡± said Zelos.


    Impure ether was frequently concocted outside the labyrinth¡¯s confines. Alchemists and apothecaries would often craft it by concentrating their magic into a thick, viscous substance with incredible stability and a long shelf life. It could be consumed at any point to restore one¡¯s mana or fed as fuel to all manners of magical devices. Automatic lamps, barrage wands, and castle-sized barriers were all customary applications employed most commonly by members of the upper class.


    The pure ether crafted by the celestial was something else entirely. He used not mana in his process, but rather the source thereof. Each soul he captured was wrung of all its worth to generate a product capable of providing a temporary but substantial boost to one¡¯s magical potential. With enough pure ether, the demigod would be able to challenge a true deity, just as how the paladins would be able to challenge him. Of course, such a miraculous drug was not one that could be produced with no consequence. The soul used as material would be destroyed in the process. And that therein lay the problem.


    A soul that was erased was one that could no longer return to the cycle. The destruction of one¡¯s essence was by no means a novel concept. Those that greatly bothered the pantheon¡¯s members in life would have their puny existences obliterated in death and consigned to the great void beyond. Though Flux was dissatisfied by the behaviour, she often refrained from speaking out and allowed the various deities to do as they pleased, but only because they knew not to abuse their authority in excess. The average god would smite only three individuals once every hundred years. Some centuries would see more than others, and some divines proved more strict or petty, but even with the odd bit of fluctuation, the number of souls taken from the system typically hovered within acceptable parameters.


    Alfred, however, blatantly ignored the unspoken limitations. He pillaged from the flow over a hundred souls a year, all to create the copious amount of true ether he would require to overpower Flitzegarde. That was why their goddess had commissioned them. She had warned them of his plans and asked that they be put to an end by way of the celestial¡¯s premature demise.


    ¡°Rally everyone, me go.¡± With a grunt, the goblin pushed himself off the ground and hobbled over to the doorway. ¡°Tell all fight or hide.¡±


    Zelos grimaced. There were maybe ten others that would be able to join the fray. Most had been effectively crippled when even their racial class¡¯ skills were taken, and those that weren¡¯t were lacking in other areas. The Relic Hunters were the only group that had retained all necessary components, courtesy of their goddess¡¯ advice.


    The problem wasn¡¯t so much a lack of power as it was its distribution. Each of the party¡¯s members was powerful enough to stand their own, but they were four, and the horde was many. It was possible, likely even, that they would reach the limits of their stamina before the time was up, and it was unlikely that they would be able to guard the citadel on their own. It was far too extensive an area to cover, and there were no buildings large enough to house its whole population in the case of an emergency.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get started on the barrier.¡± Archibald followed the goblin out the exit, stretching his half-mechanical neck with a click.


    The only two men that remained stayed silent, each lost in his own thoughts.


    ¡°Be honest with me, Beck. Can we really make it? Three days is¡­ a long, long time.¡±


    The cat tapped his paw on his desk as he looked up from the page where he had scribbled his notes. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine. We can use the key to run and stall for time if we really have to. The problem¡­ is keeping everyone else safe.¡±


    Though he knew that Beckard¡¯s judgement was often on point, Zelos wasn¡¯t entirely confident in the priest¡¯s assessment. It all depended on how willing the celestial was to bend his rules. If the lords he crafted were not out of the ordinary, then they would have little to no trouble repelling them, but he had recently learned, from a certain lyrkress¡¯ experience, that the foxes could easily adjust them to their liking, and enlisting their aid was not a true violation of his parameters.


    The concern was brought up earlier in the discussion, but the cat-sith had dismissed it on account of his belief in the goddess. Flux had warned them every time there was a notable threat to their mission, but she had yet to provide any revelations detailing the celestial¡¯s assault.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Have faith, old friend. Have faith.¡± Beck retrieved a large sack from one of his drawers and threw it across the room. ¡°Take these, if you¡¯re that worried.¡±


    Looking inside the bag he caught, Zelos found three familiar charms, covered in symbols he recognized well, marks made by a people long past.


    ¡°Are these the ones from the Tav¡¯garon Ruins?¡± he asked, his eyes wide. ¡°I thought we used all of these when we fled the beacon.¡±


    They were defensive wards, each of which was capable of negating a single blow, regardless of whether it came from a feral dog or the leviathan that guarded the entrance to the Beacon of the Sun. They had acquired fifteen during one of their adventures, but the majority had been expended, used in the long, grueling battles that their goddess had often commissioned.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t had to use mine,¡± he said, with a small smile.


    ¡°Keep them,¡± Zelos tried to hand the bag back. ¡°We split them four ways, Beck. It¡¯s my own fault for using all of mine.¡±


    The priest shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re free to do with them as you see fit. Maybe give one to that daughter of yours. Whatever gives you peace of mind.¡±


    Zelos frowned, but slowly retracted his arm. ¡°Thanks, Beck.¡± He tucked the bag inside his cloak and got up from his chair. ¡°I¡¯ll go help Archie. Shout if you need me, and the wind will carry it my way.¡±


    ¡°Of course, old friend.¡±


    Zelos left the office as the cat got back to scribbling away. He walked down both flights of stairs, offered a quick prayer before the altar, and proceeded to follow Archibald¡¯s tracks.


    ___


    Claire yawned as she slowly rose from the bubble-covered log that had served as her bed. Her night had, unsurprisingly, been plagued with all the usual lucid dreams. She had gone from wandering around the manor to leveling her artifact mastery with the mysterious ghost to running from a giant lyrkress-eating lion, all in one night. Flux was the only thing missing from the formula, but her nonpresence came as no surprise. The goddess¡¯ appearances had never exactly been consistent.


    Rather than sleeping within the citadel¡¯s confines, the bloodthief had returned to the safe zone that she had set up atop the floating prairie. She wasn¡¯t confident in the authority skill¡¯s ability to hold when exposed to a group of lords, but at the very least, its location was out of his line of fire. There was no telling what Alfred had meant when he said ¡®tomorrow.¡¯ If she were him, she would have launched her assault in the middle of the night, or perhaps even as the clock struck twelve; he had no reason to leave them any room to breathe.


    ¡°Get up.¡± She grabbed the bubble floating next to her and gave it a quick shake.


    The fox within slowly opened her eyes and yawned, only to close them again shortly after. ¡°Just five more minutes,¡± she said, with a stifled giggle.


    ¡°Make me wait that long, and I¡¯ll take a bite out of Marcelle.¡±


    ¡°H-huh? Wait, no! You can¡¯t do that! Don¡¯t hurt Marc!¡±


    ¡°Marcelle.¡±


    ¡°Whatever!¡± Sylvia got to her feet and popped her bubble. ¡°Wait¡­ where¡¯s Marc?¡±


    ¡°Marcelle.¡±


    ¡°Ughhhh! Claire! Stop being so nitpicky and answer the question!¡± The fox reached for the lyrkress¡¯ ears, but her paws never reached them. She was slowly pushed further and further away by the finger pressed against her forehead.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know where Marcelle went. She left before I woke up.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Sylvia yawned. ¡°Then I¡¯m going back to sleep.¡±


    ¡°No you aren¡¯t.¡± The lazy fairy was lifted by the cheeks and suspended in midair.


    ¡°The sun isn¡¯t even up yet!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be too late if we wait until the sun is up.¡±


    Having spent the previous night pondering the best possible approach, Claire had greeted the morning with a simple but effective plan of attack. Concerning herself with Sky Lagoon¡¯s monsters would be a pointless endeavour. She had yet to kill the lord of the chains, but while its first kill bonus was enticing, she didn¡¯t think that dealing with the obnoxious bird was worth the risk. It was too annoying, and it would maybe provide half a level at most. Adding further to Sky Lagoon¡¯s list of demerits was how open it was. Fighting within the archipelago¡¯s bounds meant having to watch her back at all times.


    What she needed was a chokepoint, a tunnel through which she could funnel the monsters she fought, and it just so happened that Alfred had been kind enough to provide one. The spiraling corridor was the perfect spot. Any monster that wanted to travel from the marshy meadow to the citadel would have to pass through a relatively small door.


    As tempted as she was to set up shop within the subaquatic tunnel, she knew better than to hole herself up. Borrok Peak had already proven that fighting off an endless swarm was more tiring than it was worth the effort. She needed to be able to retreat at a moment¡¯s notice, if anything went awry.


    That was why she selected the area outside the lower entrance. In the case of an emergency, Mirewood Meadow was by far and away the safest place to be. The undergrowth provided plenty of cover, all of which could be easily exploited for the purposes of an escape. Even more important than the availability of its contingencies was the malleability of the soil. Unlike the beach, the dirt that made up the forest¡¯s floor would hold its shape when she dug through it. It would take little effort for her to establish a network of underground tunnels, large enough to isolate whatever it was she wanted to drag underground and kill. The only condition was that she would have to arrive before the swarm.


    Upon finally convincing the fox and navigating over to her destination, Claire found that she had been beaten to the punch, but not by the ancient demigod. The marshy meadow was filled to the brim with golems. The duck-shaped machines waddled to and fro with large piles of stone dragging behind them, while larger platypus-shaped models slaved away at the construction of a keep.


    It was already half done; the outer wall was fully built and reinforced, and it was impossible to move between the two floors without passing through a newly constructed gate. Standing right in the middle of the construction site was a familiar pair of faces, one furry, and the other completely devoid of anything that even remotely resembled a hair.


    She was noticed as soon as she exited the space between the beach and the marsh. Both craned their necks towards her, with one twisting his face into a hostile scowl and the other nodding his head.


    ¡°Hey guys!¡± Sylvia stood up on her hind legs and waved, but the friendly response was not returned.


    Claire furrowed her brow as they got closer. Something was off. Archibald kept a hand near the quiver strapped to his wrist, and Beckard seemed tense and jumpy. His breathing was shallow, and his heart rate was high; she could hear it thumping even before she got close enough to see the solemn look on his face.


    ¡°Wow, you guys seem really on edge,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°What happened?¡±


    Archibald stepped forward and opened his mouth, but the cat raised a paw and silenced him. His magic circuits lit up and removed all the sound in their surroundings. Because he was furless, the conduits were visible beneath his skin, glowing with a vibrant orange light. Noise didn¡¯t return until the light receded, after the dog-faced artificer stepped back into position.


    ¡°Sorry, he¡¯s a little too worked up,¡± said the cat. His lips were twisted into a dark, grim frown. He took several deep breaths and clasped his hands together before raising his voice once more. ¡°I take it the two of you have yet to hear the news?¡±


    ¡°What news?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°We were the ones that told you Alfred caught on!¡±


    ¡°No, not that.¡± Another deep breath. ¡°It¡¯s Zelos, your father. He went missing last night.¡±

 Chapter 132 - Two Blades and a Tail XIII

    Chapter 132 - Two Blades and a Tail XIII


    ¡°H-huh? Dad¡¯s missing?¡± Sylvia tilted her head and blinked. ¡°Is that supposed to be weird? He poofs all the time.¡±


    Beckard shook his head. ¡°Perhaps in his downtime, yes, but he¡¯s never been one to miss an appointment. He was due to report two hours ago, but we haven¡¯t been able to get in touch with him. Not since he left my office last night.¡±


    ¡°Tracking isn¡¯t working on him either,¡± grunted Archibald.


    ¡°Alfred,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°My thoughts exactly,¡± agreed the priest.


    ¡°Oh no¡­¡± Sylvia¡¯s face paled. ¡°B-but wait, that can¡¯t be right. Al¡¯s not supposed to be able to hurt torches, so he should still be okay. I-I think.¡±


    The vector mage magically grabbed ahold of the flustered fox, pulled her into her arms, and gently ran her fingers through her fur. ¡°He didn¡¯t kill me.¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°A-Al¡¯s mean, but he¡¯s not that mean.¡± Her voice trailed off, quieting into a whisper. ¡°Or at least I don¡¯t think he is.¡±


    Beckard slowly shook his head. ¡°Unfortunately, Zelos¡¯ duties can¡¯t exactly go undone.¡± He frowned and crossed his arms before looking up at the half-deer. ¡°Claire, can I ask you to take his place?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Her response was immediate. Sylvia had already provided a quick explanation of Beckard¡¯s plan the previous night. They were, in essence, organising a heist with the celestial¡¯s ether supply as their target. They would take the legendary substance into their own bodies and use it as a steroid, one that would allow them to overwhelm the demigod and consign him to the cycle. The group had even crafted a special weapon for the occasion, a bow that could convert the purified essence into an all-consuming blast of arcane might. Following his death would come the unsealing of the realm; Llystletein would be returned to the world above and its residents could finally return from whence they came. Or at least that was what they hoped.


    Claire was much less confident. From start to finish, the entire scheme reeked of nothing but wild assumptions. They presumed that the ether was legitimate, that its use would provide them with enough power to succeed, that their weapon was able to bring the demigod to his knees, and that he would refrain from killing them all in a final act of vengeance. There were too many points of failure. Everything would fall to shambles if even one of their expectations was defied.


    ¡°Please, Claire. We need another vanguard.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a mage.¡± She formed a small piece of ice in the palm of her hand for emphasis, crushing it in her grasp soon after.


    The huskar scoffed. ¡°Then why do you have a spear?¡± His gaze was pointed towards the incriminating weapon strapped to her back. Its tip had been covered with a large rag, but its identity was far from obscured.


    ¡°It¡¯s a staff,¡± said Claire, with a straight face.


    ¡°Wh-wha¡ª¡± The half mechanical dog¡¯s mouth flapped as he stuttered. ¡°Th-that¡¯s ridiculous! You asked Fred for a spear last night!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Archibald¡¯s head swiveled between the girl and the weapon as he pressed a hand to his forehead. He kept opening his mouth, only to close it each time. He couldn¡¯t find the right words. The last thing he had expected was for Claire to be shameless enough to blatantly lie to his face.


    ¡°To be clear, I was referring to vanguard in the other sense,¡± said Beckard. ¡°I¡¯m not asking you to help us attack Alfred. We just need someone to defend the area that Zelos was meant to be responsible for. You won¡¯t need to kill everything. I¡¯d just like you to thin out the crowd before it reaches us.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Beckard frowned. ¡°Well¡­ what if I was to tell you that Zelos was meant to be responsible for confronting the lord of the slough? I believe you were looking to kill it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s too late,¡± said Claire. ¡°It won¡¯t be alone anymore.¡±


    ¡°About that.¡± The priest breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°From what our scouts are saying, it is. The monsters haven¡¯t started to gather just yet. You still do have a chance to face it without anything else getting in your way, but you¡¯ll have to move quickly.¡±


    Finding the claim far too convenient for his purposes, the lykress looked to her four-legged companion, who confirmed it with a nod. The affirmation almost led her to don a frown. It was too early. Neither bloodthief nor vector mage had evolved, nor were they even close enough for her to consider taking on a needless risk. She was certainly stronger than she had been when she first challenged it, but she hadn¡¯t grown nearly enough to make up for the difference in strength. It was still twice her level and she had only grasped a few of its abilities. Taking it down would be a challenge.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she said, after a brief delay. ¡°But that¡¯s all I¡¯m doing.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you at le¡ª¡±


    The cat began to speak, but she cut him off before he could finish making his request. ¡°I¡¯m not fighting him.¡±


    Defeating the celestial was beyond her. He had refrained from ending her life the previous night, but there was no guarantee that he wouldn¡¯t change his mind, nor did she foresee herself working around his spells. There was no way to resist. He had too many vectors at his disposal. She didn¡¯t know just how strong the priest and his underlings were, but she doubted that they stood a chance. He could snap their necks just by looking at them.


    ¡°That isn¡¯t what I was going to ask,¡± he said with a nervous chuckle. ¡°I was just hoping that you would report in after you were done.¡±


    She narrowed her eyes into a knowing glare. ¡°Fine.¡± There was no point in calling attention to his fib; he was more likely to let her walk away if she didn¡¯t. ¡°Where is it?¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said. ¡°You should be able to find it if you go straight until you find the river, then follow it to its source.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°Someone will check up on you in a few hours if we don¡¯t hear back.¡±


    With a nod, the lyrkress kicked off the ground and dashed out the exit. For once, the fox in her arms didn¡¯t scamper atop her head and wave goodbye. She was too deflated, too anxious to do anything but sit still and mumble as she was carried through the marshy meadow.


    ___


    Claire slowed down after about thirty minutes of running. Looking behind her, she found an obvious set of tracks, visible as a lighthouse on a clear night. Her hooves and tail had certainly left prints in the mud, but the pony¡¯s presence made it so she couldn¡¯t be missed. The phantom gorged itself on the marsh¡¯s mucky sludge and created an unmistakable trail in the shape of a half circle.


    The lyrkress suffered greatly for the ordeal; her mouth was almost constantly filled with one of the most awful flavours she had ever tasted, and vomiting did nothing to fix it. Still, she persisted. The glutton¡¯s belly was a powerful tool, and tools were meant to be exploited.


    ¡°Uhm¡­ Are you okay, Claire? Because you don¡¯t look okay.¡± The talking fox on her head was still a little quieter than usual, but a good old fashioned tickling session had more or less fixed her mood.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    The decrease in her speed had come not as a function of her discomfort, but rather because the environment had started to change. The forest and the marshy meadow grew further and further apart with each step she took. The sky was expanding, revealing not the great blue behind it, but a massive frog with a pair of oversized wings and a body that was as present as it was translucent.


    ¡°Are you really sure about this?¡± asked the fox.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± She took the hat off her head and set it down on a piece of dry land. ¡°Stay here. I¡¯ll only be a minute.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ if you say so.¡± Sylvia narrowed her eyes into a suspicious stare, but refrained from voicing her concerns.


    Despite what the fox had assumed, Claire¡¯s confidence was not entirely unfounded. It stemmed not from idiotic bravado, but rather a strategy that she had developed specifically with the frog in mind. It wasn¡¯t perfect, and there were still holes that she had hoped her class evolutions would fill, but it wasn¡¯t as if she was without a hand to play.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    She started by spending all of her ability points. Most were dumped into wisdom, bringing it to a flat two thousand. To her dismay, a quick test confirmed that she had failed to reach another threshold, but that wasn¡¯t an issue. Another three-hundred-odd points were used to raise dexterity to one thousand, while the rest were put in agility; working around the monster¡¯s attacks was far more important than increasing her raw strength or vitality.


    With that done, she planted her spear in the mud, drew her mace, and turned it into an axe. The lord was already staring her down; observing her as she approached with her weapon drawn. It opened its mouth at the hundred meter mark, a reaction too belated to come to fruition.


    She was already within range.


    Taking a breath, the lyrkress launched herself through the air and shrunk the distance to zero. A swing of the axe embedded its icy blade into the frog¡¯s chin. Once it was firmly lodged, she switched her grip on the makeshift weapon and wrenched it to the side, tearing as much of the anuran¡¯s flesh as she possibly could.


    At a glance, it looked like a deep injury. There was blood everywhere, and the gash was one full axeblade deep, but to the frog, it was just a nick, a tiny cut that barely managed to get past its skin.


    Croaking in annoyance, the fifty meter tall behemoth opened its maw and revealed the abomination that was its tongue. Right away, she was subjected to its many voices. They began screaming at her from the heads that lined its fleshy extension, but she couldn¡¯t be bothered to listen. Her mind was focused instead on evading its lashing strikes and putting her plan into motion.


    Dancing past the first wave of attacks, she grabbed Shoulderhorse by its malformed head and threw the invisible pony straight into the frog¡¯s gaping mouth. The tiny four-legged creature sprinted to the back of the monster¡¯s throat and emptied the contents of its stomach, not into the lord¡¯s gut, but rather, its lungs.


    The tongue¡¯s attacks came to an immediate stop. The monster squirmed around uncomfortably, coughing and sputtering as it was pumped full of mud. The massive earthy wave overflowed from its airbags and filled its body in a second. There was more volume in the horse¡¯s stomach than there was in the frog; it should have exploded in much the same manner as all the other lords that had suffered from the same attack, but it didn¡¯t. Its body expanded; the sac under its chin that enlarged with every croak grew to ten times its usual size and easily accommodated the increase in mass.


    All of the mud within it was expelled when it opened its mouth, accompanied by an audible, cocky ribbit. It could still breathe. The tendrils protruding from its tongue had reached back into its lungs and cleaned out all the murky soil contained within, a process she witnessed first hand through Shoulderhorse¡¯s eyes.


    Though irritated, the lyrkress was far from out of options. She quickly issued another command and had the pony fire a spell fueled by her divinity. The beam that came from its mouth was shot straight at the base of the monster¡¯s tongue, the root that kept it attached to its body.


    There was an icy explosion at the point of impact. Massive spikes burst out from within the frozen flesh and separated the organ from its host. By all means, its tongue should have been disabled, but the long, stretchy appendage acted with a mind of its own. It grew a mouth from its newfound base and reattached itself to another part of the frog¡¯s throat.


    All of its functionality was immediately regained. The part outside its mouth came back to life and fired a barrage of bolts in her direction, a series of random objects with some far deadlier than others, but Claire was unconcerned; the monster had yet to take control over the battle¡¯s momentum.


    With an entirely unnecessary snap of her fingers, she detonated the pony that lay within the amphibian¡¯s gullet. Shoulderhorse¡¯s final attack produced the same result as the first two. It staggered the lord and forced it to flinch, but failed to do any lasting damage. Though Claire was disappointed with its performance, she was not so dismayed that she was put at a disadvantage. Shoulderhorse was dual purpose. Even if unable to execute its victim, it did its part by forcing the frog to its knees.


    The lyrkress flew next to one of the behemoth¡¯s eyes as it writhed in pain and summoned the phantom equine¡¯s counterpart. She magically pulled her spear out of the ground and handed it to the snake, which immediately shot forward like a bullet released from a bow. The hallucination used the weapon like a drill. It spun it at high speed, scattering the flesh within the frog¡¯s eye as it dug deeper and deeper into its head.


    The anuran attacked the assailant with its tongue. Its tendrils shot towards its own face, but they were unable to reach, pushed away by the lyrkress¡¯ vectors. The battle was over by the time it finally thought to focus its attacks on the half moose. Shouldersnake penetrated its skull, burrowed through its grey matter, and drove its fangs into the monster¡¯s brainstem. An infinite supply of lesser tetrodotoxin flowed from its poison sacks and melted the behemoth¡¯s nervous system. It took only a moment to spread through its mind, corrupting it beyond repair.


    Its giant body fell forward and its tongue lifelessly flopped onto the ground. The unnatural arms protruding from its tentacle twitched like the antennae of a dying roach as the heads adorning the muscle groaned. Some cried, while others screamed, but the few words that escaped them were all the same. They accused her of murder, disparged her cowardice, and demanded a fair fight. But again, they were ignored.


    With another snap of the fingers, she detonated her serpentine companion and turned the frog¡¯s brain to mush.


    Log Entry 3935


    You have slain a unique level 257 Eldritch Frog, titled ¡®The Lord of the Slough.¡¯


    This feat has earned you the following bonuses:


    - 1 point of agility


    - 3 points of strength


    - 46 points of wisdom


    ¡°Wow, you really did do it in just a minute,¡± said a wide-eyed fox, from atop her head.


    ¡°When did you get there?¡± Claire grabbed Sylvia by the scruff of her neck and turned her around, so they could see eye to eye.


    ¡°Just now!¡± chirped the half-elf. ¡°And more importantly, how the heck did you manage that!? I thought for sure that it was gonna beat the crap out of you.¡±


    ¡°Thanks. For trying to watch me die again.¡±


    Log Entry 3936


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Frostblight Lyrkress, has reached level 129.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Bloodthief, has reached level 117.


    Your secondary class, Llystletein Vector Mage, has reached level 122.


    You have gained 138 ability points.


    Sylvia puffed up her cheeks. ¡°Oh, shush! I was gonna step in after it beat you up a bit.¡±


    ¡°Thanks. For believing in me.¡±


    ¡°Stop making it sound like it¡¯s my fault! It¡¯s literally twice your level!¡±


    Log Entry 3937


    Envenom has reached level 30.


    All mana costs have been halved, and lesser tetrodotoxin has been upgraded to tetrodotoxin.


    Log Entry 3938


    Spirit Sorcery has reached level 41.


    Log Entry 3939


    True Ice Manipulation has reached level 26.


    Claire smirked. ¡°It is your fault.¡±


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°For making it.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ right.¡± Sylvia groaned. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna let me off the hook for that one anytime soon, are you?¡±


    ¡°Never.¡±


    Log Entry 3940


    One of your spawnable food items has been upgraded.


    Log Entry 3941


    You have completed ¡°The Lords¡¯ Last Regards.¡±


    Throwing has been reclassified as projectile weapon mastery, and all weapon mastery skills have been unified. However, not all accrued experience has been carried over, as the final bonus objective was marked incomplete at the time of the quest¡¯s finalisation. The level of your new Weapon Mastery skill has been set to 5.


    As she was only half paying attention to Flux¡¯s voice, it took Claire a moment to tear herself away from the conversation, put Sylvia down, and take a second look at the log entry.


    ¡°Claire?¡±


    ¡°The quest I finished did something to my skills.¡±


    Weapon Mastery - Level 5


    Your actions have lacked such consistency that you have managed to confuse the system into providing you with an ability otherwise out of your reach. Rejoice, for it is only through a miracle that such a series of poor decisions could have been transformed into an opportunity. While this skill will provide you with the ability to wield all manners of tools, it does not address the fundamental issue that is your inability to specialise.


    Effects


    - You instinctively excel at the use of all weapons.


    - You are capable of using any given entity as if it were a weapon.


    - When using a weapon, increase damage dealt by 30% (20% + 2% per level.)


    - Individual weapon types offer additional scaling. This scaling benefits from your highest ability scores as opposed to the most relevant ones.


    The skill¡¯s effect was immediately apparent. She could tell, just by looking at a nearby tree, that one of its branches would make for a good rapier, while another was better used as a bat. She knew that she would need to suspend its trunk by her waist instead of hoisting it over her shoulder if she wanted to use it as a battering ram, and that she could curl up its leaves, poison them, and throw them stem-first like darts.


    Looking at Sylvia provided a similar amount of useless information. If the fox kept her mouth open, she could grab her by the hind limbs and swing her around like a mace. She could also be used as a somewhat dysfunctional flail if held by her fluffiest appendage, but that particular option was less potent and all but sure to damage the weapon¡¯s integrity.


    ¡°U-uhmmm¡­ Claire?¡± The half-elf took a tiny step back. ¡°Why are you looking at me like that?¡±


    ¡°No reason.¡±


    She pulled the four-legged mace into her chest for a hug as she began walking away from the lord¡¯s corpse. The rogue had assumed that she would be satisfied by finally getting her revenge, but she found herself feeling more annoyed than sated.


    The bird-brained behemoth had died too quickly. It was meant to be a challenge, but it had failed to return even a single hit. There was no sense of accomplishment. She didn¡¯t even have the chance to feel as if she had really grown.


    A sudden crackling sound forced her to perk up before she could get too deep into her laments. Turning to the side, its source, she found a mirewulf lord running at her with its mouth open and its fake teeth bared. It was screeching at the top of its lungs, as if to declare war, but like the frog, it never landed a hit. She grabbed a piece of its flower with the tip of each finger and, clenching her fists, tore it apart with the forces at her disposal. As Alfred could have easily done to her.


    Log Entry 3942


    You have slain a unique level 180 Llystletein Mirewulf Alpha titled ¡°The Lord of the Holt - Variant 571B.¡±


    Its death should have provided her some peace and quiet, but it was replaced by two, then seven, then ten. They were swarming to her en masse, just like the borroks.


    ¡°Beckard tricked me,¡± she muttered. ¡°So much for being an honest priest.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know, right! What a jerk,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°You knew they were coming too.¡±


    ¡°Shhh! You weren¡¯t supposed to say that part out loud!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    A small smile on her face, Claire drew her daggers and took a deep breath. There were a lot of them, but she wasn¡¯t worried. They would be easy to kill, even if she was armed with nothing but two blades and a tail.

 Chapter 133 - Willow in the Western Wind

    Chapter 133 - Willow in the Western Wind


    Her chest heaving, Claire leaned back on a wall made of dirt and closed her eyes as she slowly caught her breath. It was almost evening. It had taken a full day¡¯s worth of combat for the Cadrian to finally retreat into the underground, a trick she hadn¡¯t exploited since she last struggled to ward off the ravens.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that enough for one day?¡± Sylvia, the tunnel¡¯s chief architect, cast a worried frown in her companion¡¯s direction. ¡°You¡¯ve been fighting since morning, and the cycle¡¯s gonna end in like an hour!¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± The lyrkress scanned her log and looked over her status before nodding in agreement. ¡°They¡¯re not giving any experience anymore.¡±


    The mirewulf alphas had never been very threatening. Reaping their lives provided only the slightest bit of growth. But what they lacked individually, they made up for with numbers. The ten-odd hours of slaughter that ensued came with over a hundred kills apiece; her log¡¯s entry count surpassed 5000 by the time her exhaustion took hold. Accompanying the rampage was another ten-odd levels in each class, with most of them clocking in before noon.


    Ending a mirewulf was by all means a more involved task than killing a borrok. It took an almost disproportionate amount of effort to destroy each given individual, and a tiny mistake could lead to a potential victim slinking out of sight, recovering, and returning to the battle with its vigour renewed. Despite the need for precision and power, she felt less taxed by the mirewulf horde than she did the one she had faced in Borrok Peak. She didn¡¯t have to watch out for fatal spells or dodge every heavy handed attack that came her way. The beams of scathing light they fired had no effect on her heat-resistant scales, and the attempts they made at stealing her mana were paltry at best. It took little to no effort to weave through their lines, dance through their attacks, and sever their buds. The task was so repetitive that it brought a sense of calm. She felt like she was weeding a garden of its weeds or planting flowers in a field¡ªnot that she knew what it was like to do either.


    In the end, the person that Beckard had supposedly sent to check up on her never showed. She couldn¡¯t tell if he had been lying from the start, or if they found themselves too short on manpower to spare the extra body, but she doubted that there was any point in reporting the kill to him in either case. The frog¡¯s non-presence was more than enough to evidence its death.


    ¡°Do you want to go back?¡± Claire broke the silence as she grabbed the four-legged mace by the scruff, set her down in her lap, and played with her fur. The fox was the one on the receiving end of all the pets, but the bloodthief found her tension relieved all the same.


    ¡°I think we should¡­ If dad shows up again, it¡¯s gonna be at the citadel.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t think he¡¯s with your mother?¡±


    Sylvia shook her head. ¡°I checked while you were killing all the mirewulves, but mom has no idea where he is. The only thing she knows is that Al promised he wasn¡¯t gonna do anything to him.¡± The domesticated forest critter was nowhere near as anxious as she had been earlier in the day. She had finally stopped fidgeting and playing with the tip of her tail.


    ¡°And you trust him?¡±


    ¡°Mhm.¡± Yawning, Sylvia snuggled into the nook of Claire¡¯s lap and closed her eyes. ¡°I know you don¡¯t like him, but Al¡¯s pretty honest.¡±


    Claire frowned. ¡°Honest? He is not honest. He¡¯s the type to scheme. I can tell.¡±


    Sylvia chuckled awkwardly. ¡°Okay, honest might¡¯ve been stretching it a little, but he doesn¡¯t really blatantly lie all that much either. I know he¡¯s trapped and killed lots of people, but he¡¯s really not a bad person, just super goal-focused and narrow minded.¡±


    ¡°And a pervert,¡± muttered the bluescale.


    ¡°And a pervert,¡± repeated her pet.


    Stretching her back and yawning, Claire slowly crawled over to the burrow¡¯s entrance and raised her ears. Most of the mirewulves had already moved on, but some were still around, lurking about with sap running from their open maws. She couldn¡¯t be bothered to confront any more of them, so she summoned Shoulderhorse and ordered it to tunnel in the direction that most of the wooden dogs had gone.


    ¡°Wait, you wanted to go underground?¡± The fox tilted her head.


    ¡°Was there another option?¡±


    ¡°I can put us in a bubble that¡¯ll make us invisible, or at least really hard to see. Al might still notice, but we can sneak right past the mirewulves.¡±


    ¡°Why are you only bringing this up now?¡± groaned the half-snake.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ I dunno,¡± replied the fox. ¡°I don¡¯t really use it a lot, so I kinda just forgot.¡±


    The rogue pressed a hand against the side of her face. ¡°Is there anything else you¡¯re forgetting? Anything important?¡±


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­¡± The fox pressed the tip of her tail against the bottom of her chin. ¡°Oh! There is one thing, but I don¡¯t think it really counts as important.¡±


    A silent tilt of the head prompted the overgrown cub to continue.


    ¡°I uhmmm¡­ just remembered I can make food taste different.¡± Sylvia averted her eyes and laughed nervously.


    ¡°Taste different?¡±


    ¡°Yeah! Like really different. I can make you think you¡¯re eating steak no matter what you¡¯re eating.¡±


    Claire¡¯s right eye twitched as she recalled all the awful meals she had endured over the past few weeks. Everything but the monopus meat had been completely devoid of the deep, complex flavours she was accustomed to, and the ingredients that went into their making were so poor that she doubted any could even make it to market.


    ¡°You could do that?¡± The lyrkress¡¯ neck creaked as she slowly turned her head.


    ¡°M-mhm.¡± The fox slowly backed away with a gulp.


    ¡°You could do that, this whole time? And you never told me?¡± mumbled Claire. Her voice trembled, but remained clear enough to send shivers down her pet¡¯s spine. ¡°I tasted almost nothing but stale bread for weeks. The only other things I tasted were swamp and lava. And the lava came from a communal toilet. Do you know how that feels?¡± Cold sweat began running down the fox¡¯s brow as the lyrkress laughed, her voice as dark as it was psychotic. ¡°Can you even begin to imagine how that feels?¡±


    ¡°C-Claire? C-can you ummm¡­ please calm down?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you silly fox.¡± Another chilling giggle. ¡°I¡¯m already calm.¡±


    ¡°N-no you¡¯re not! C-come on, Claire! I know you¡¯re mad, but it¡¯s not my fault! I-I¡¯m not supposed to help you!¡±


    One of the two halfbreeds took a step forward, while the other took two back.


    ¡°I-I¡¯ll make it up to you!¡± squeaked the vixen. ¡°I-I promise I¡¯ll make everything you eat taste like the best steak you¡¯ve ever had from now on!¡±


    ¡°Not good enough,¡± mumbled the moose. ¡°Suffering can only be repaid with suffering.¡±


    ¡°Oh crap!¡± Sylvia stepped to the side in an attempt to evade the incoming lunge, but they were underground. There was nowhere to run.


    A pair of clawed hands grabbed her by the cheeks and tugged her stretchy face in all sorts of directions without the slightest hint or mercy or remorse. Seemingly forever, the assault continued. She wasn¡¯t released until a mirewulf caught on to all the commotion and poked its head into the subterranean shelter, but by then, she was already plagued with the worry that her visage had been permanently deformed.


    ___


    The pair returned to Sky Lagoon¡¯s entrance after an hour of floating. Within Sylvia¡¯s bubble, they were imperceptible to all that relied on their eyes and ears, not that there were many monsters to perceive them in the first place. The marsh was quiet, empty. Few of the creatures that typically wandered it had remained. Occasional straggler aside, the alligators, the frogs, and the ravens were all missing.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Just like the keep.


    Upon arriving at the fortress¡¯ location, they found not a single trace of its use or construction. There were no broken walls, no dead monsters, and no defeated golems. Everything was gone, gone because the environment had been reset to its default state; the fort had fallen so long ago that it had already been marked and cleansed by the dungeon¡¯s janitorial mechanisms.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think the citadel stands a chance,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I-I know that things aren¡¯t really looking up right now, but it should be fine¡­¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Remember how strong Dad is?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s missing.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡±


    The distinct lack of sound continued even as they entered the water column leading to the archipelago. None of the mutated turtles were present. They too had vacated their homes and sought the citadel¡¯s destruction.


    Emerging from the corridor¡¯s exit, however, put the eerie silence to an end. Sky Lagoon was filled with noise. Loud shouts, feral howls, and the pounding of flesh were all immediately apparent. They were all sounds that stemmed from the battle unfolding before her eyes; the cliff that doubled as the domain¡¯s entrance provided a view that came with both an excellent summary and a clear conclusion.


    The citadel was on the verge of collapse.


    The floating rock had already been overrun. There were eels, hogs, and mirewulves flooding the streets and tearing the buildings to bits. Owls made of sand and whales made of magma hovered in the sky nearby, and talking monopusses dotted the ocean below like lilies in a pond. All of them were lords. Every single monster present was in a powered-up state, fueled by what she could only assume was Alfred¡¯s magic.


    Claire reached for her spear as she began stepping forward, but her hand grasped nothing. The weapon mounted on her back was gone.


    Searching through her memory, she recalled that she had forgotten it inside of the frog. The wooden dogs had distracted her and stopped her from retrieving it.


    ¡°Why is it always the spear?¡± Fighting back the urge to curse, she took a deep breath and played with the tail hanging from the side of her head. ¡°Can you bring us a little closer?¡±


    ¡°Mhm! No problem,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°How close do you wanna get?¡±


    ¡°Close enough to see what¡¯s going on.¡±


    Flying directly above the battlefield revealed that the priest and his men were gathered in and around a rectangular barrier large enough to encase one of the town¡¯s sectors. The church, the forge, and all of the residential buildings sat inside the four-sided veil.


    At each of the square¡¯s corners was a large post made out of engraved metal and a massive swarm of monsters. Defending the barrier had clearly been slated as the citadel¡¯s highest priority. Three of the four were guarded by Zelos¡¯ companions, none of whom had even the slightest bit of trouble.


    Beckard protected his post with a pair of oversized gauntlets, each half the size of his body. Most of the enemies he encountered were dealt with traditionally; a light jab to the gut would detonate whatever he struck. But on occasion, he would switch it up. A new weapon would often spring forth from the bizarre contraption and see a moment or two of use. He fired several darts from its fingers to slay one group, launched an explosive arrow from a bow that popped out from his wrist to kill another, and released a toxic gas to end a third.


    Frederick¡¯s approach was much more straightforward. His foes were dispatched with a simple enchanted trident. Everything he stabbed would be lit with a scorching flame. His targets would be forced to endure the heat either until they jumped into the water below or turned to ash. The former option was often explored, but never did it succeed. Anything that turned its back on him would be hit with a projectile, a hammer that returned itself to its sheath after every throw.


    Surprisingly, Archibald, who she assumed to be inept, was doing even better than his peers. His area had as many corpses as both of theirs combined. Anything that came within a hundred meter radius of him would either find itself impaled by a magical bolt from his crossbow or mauled by the ravens and golems that served as his arms and legs.


    Though the first three devices were safe, the last was clearly at risk. The group defending it was a rag-tag bunch. The dozen or so people took more time to defeat a single lord than it did for any of the other three to disassemble a score. Among the ensemble was a disturbingly high number of familiar faces. The musketeers, the centaurs, and the werebears were present and accounted for. They weren¡¯t quite up to par, and they would have easily fallen without the support that the artificer¡¯s golems provided, but they were better off than they were since she had last seen them. Even Lova seemed somewhat useful; the Kryddarian was no longer lacking the strength to wield her shieldlance.


    ¡°U-uhm¡­ Claire?¡± The fox looked up at her.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to help them?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    The fourth point of defense obviously needed to be reinforced, but Claire refrained from jumping into the fray. Frankly, she didn¡¯t want to help. She knew that her mother would have been greatly disappointed with the heartless decision, but she didn¡¯t care. There was no point in flying to the citadel¡¯s aid if it was all but sure to fall. And more importantly, she had far too many grievances to air to even consider extending a helping hand.


    ¡°I see no reason to.¡±


    Lova annoyed her to no end, and the other locals had done little but ask for her assistance with minimal repayment. She was aware, from the bits and pieces she overheard, that they had served as the ultimate source of her divine spark, but knowing that did little to convince her of their worth. They hadn¡¯t worshipped her out of gratitude. Because they had none of it to begin with.


    Zelos and Beckard were the only two that had ever done anything for her. One was missing in action, and the other had just tricked her into a long, grueling battle with an oversized pack of mirewulves. Her interactions with Lova and co. had come with nothing but irritation, and her relationship with Frederick was strictly one of business; he hadn¡¯t even cut her a good deal.


    Of those present, she cared for none. There was no goodwill, nor a quest that enticed her to extend a hand.


    So she didn¡¯t.


    She did nothing but standby and wait as the lords threatened to overwhelm the settlement¡¯s defenses.


    ¡°Are you going?¡± she asked the fox as she watched a mirewulf crush one of Lova¡¯s arms and steal her weapon. The moth was nearly caught by a second attack, but a centaur, the mare, dashed in and retrieved her before the alpha could finish her off with its vines.


    ¡°I want to,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But I can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Because it would mean defying Aflred?¡±


    ¡°Mhm¡­ I¡¯m already doing as much as I can without really getting on his bad side. I don¡¯t want to get into even more trouble, especially if this whole plan doesn¡¯t work out.¡±


    ¡°Oh, rest assured dear child. It most certainly will not.¡± Cackling with laughter, the celestial appeared right next to them. His body almost seemed to faze into existence, forming in the air like a ripple in the fabric of reality. ¡°It unfortunately appears that I¡¯ll have to cut them some slack for this to be any fun.¡±


    ¡°A-Al!?¡± Sylvia nearly jumped out of her non-existent pants. She was so startled that she flew right out of Claire¡¯s arms and bumped her head into the top of her bubble.


    ¡°Stop doing that,¡± said Claire.


    The old man grinned as would a child. ¡°What? Appearing out of nowhere? I¡¯ll have to refuse. It happens to be one of my favourite tricks.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s creepy.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know, right!¡± jeered Sylvia.


    ¡°You shut up. You do it too.¡± A swift chop was delivered to the fox¡¯s forehead.


    ¡°Ow! What the heck! That doesn¡¯t mean you need to hit me!¡± complained the hat. She rubbed the spot where she had been tapped and held a lengthy pout before suddenly clapping her front paws against her snout and standing up straight. ¡°Wait! Al! What the heck did you do to Dad!?¡±


    ¡°Zelos? I wouldn¡¯t be so worried. I haven¡¯t hurt him.¡±


    ¡°Oh whew¡­¡± the fox pressed a hand to her chest and breathed a sigh of relief.


    Alfred paused for a moment and scratched his beard before tapping his cane against the empty sky beneath his feet. Despite the lack of substance, it made a solid thunk, as if it had struck a hollowed log. ¡°That reminds me, Claire.¡±


    She cast him a sidelong glance. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You really need to be clearer with your intentions. I thought you were going to fight for the citadel, not waffle along the fence.¡± He spoke as would a professor lecturing a less-than-eager student. The tone reminded her so much of Allegra¡¯s that she almost managed not to hear any of his words.


    ¡°I was.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense. You said you weren¡¯t going to be doing my quest last night and spent almost the entire day whittling down my forces.¡±


    ¡°I said I didn¡¯t have any intention of doing your quest. I never said I would join them.¡±


    ¡°But you killed the strongest lord.¡±


    ¡°Because I wanted to. It gave me over ten levels.¡±


    The celestial scoffed. ¡°Levels. It¡¯s always the levels with you, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Two fifty.¡±


    ¡°Bah! You aren¡¯t getting them anyway,¡± he said, with an annoyed huff. ¡°I should have left Zelos where he was. With you out of the equation, the scales are far too unbalanced.¡±


    ¡°I think they might be able to hold out, but I dunno¡­¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Perhaps, perhaps not,¡± said the celestial. A loud explosion went off right as he breathed a sigh; one of Arhicbald¡¯s golems had reached its operational limit and subsequently self-destructed, taking a large group of lords with it. Of the three chatting away in the sky, only Alfred was affected. He had to hold down his hat while the other two casually sat around in their windproof bubble. ¡°But at this rate, I won¡¯t be having any fun unless I put your father back in.¡±


    ¡°Do that, and I¡¯ll help him kill you,¡± said Claire.


    The declaration sent the old man spiraling into a fit of laughter. ¡°Good luck,¡± he wheezed. ¡°It isn¡¯t possible for you, any of you, boosted by ether or not.¡± Tapping his cane against the non-existent ground again, Alfred stepped out in front of the citadel right as the sun finished making its way beneath the horizon. ¡°Now if you¡¯ll excuse me, ladies, I have an announcement to make.¡±


    A magical tremor erupted from his core and rippled throughout the realm. Every monster that sensed it stopped at his command. A hellhog poised to dodge a fatal blow allowed it to reach, a frog escaping an explosion stopped in its tracks, and an owl in the midst of the sky stopped flapping its wings and plummeted to the ground.


    ¡°That will be all for today.¡± His voice boomed through the archipelago. ¡°Congratulations, for surviving the first wave. The remaining monsters are free for you to do with as you see fit. We¡¯ll resume first thing tomorrow morning.¡±


    With one more laugh, the malicious demigod vanished, leaving only the wind in his wake.

 Chapter 134 - Willow in the Western Wind II

    Chapter 134 - Willow in the Western Wind II


    Beckard paced back and forth in his office as he watched the sun peak above the horizon. If the celestial was to be believed, the attack on the citadel would be resuming in short order. As a whole, their circumstances were looking grim. Zelos was still missing, and neither Sylvia nor Claire had returned. All three of them, he presumed dead.


    Zelos¡¯ demise was obvious. The elf was a clear priority target that Alfred had no reason to overlook. He doubted that the celestial had singled out either of the other two, but the chimera was reckless, and while he knew little about Sylvia, he was well aware that the average Llystletein fox was not at all a frightening combatant. Their raw ability scores were overwhelming, but few ever accrued the experience required to make any use of them, and the circumstances at hand appeared to suggest that they had been overwhelmed with raw numbers.


    Marleena, the scout he had sent after the pair, had been forced to retreat immediately upon entering the forest. Her report confirmed that they had greatly underestimated the size of Alfred¡¯s army. There were mirewulves everywhere; a seemingly endless torrent of modified dryads had suddenly sprung from the soil without warning. The wave had forced them to retreat, to abandon the fortress they built and the hundreds of constructs Archibald had placed within it. Returning to the citadel¡¯s barrier, which they had erected the night prior, had minimized casualties, but it was difficult to say if their success would continue. It would only be a matter of time before the artificer ran out of machines. It took him over thirty hours to make one, and years to construct the sacrifices that had been consumed the previous day.


    ¡°Damn it, Zelos. How¡¯d he catch you off guard?¡± Gritting his teeth, the cat-sith grabbed his gauntlets and made his way out the door. There was no time for him to lollygag. Archibald had already activated the barrier, and the monsters had already started to gather. He needed to get to his position before they arrived.


    After stepping out of the cathedral and walking down the street, he looked into the sky to find that the assailants differed slightly from those that had attacked the previous day. Most prominent were the fire elementals; the molten cetaceans had grown crystalline shells visible from even a mile away. He couldn¡¯t quite discern the clear material¡¯s precise identity from afar, but he suspected that it was made of glass, specifically the type that would render Archibald¡¯s weaponry less effective. The armoured whales were not alone in the sky. They shared the airspace with the chain lords, which had changed from owls to eagles; they had sharper beaks, larger talons, and thin, lithe frames more suited to high speed flight.


    Similar changes could be seen in the others as well. The mirewulves were larger and had more tendrils, the gator monsters had grown sails, and the monopusses had sprouted horns, obvious catalysts to empower the magical abilities they previously lacked. It was impossible to gauge the precise increase without getting close, but he suspected that the average monster was roughly twice as strong, a clear sign that more casualties were sure to arise.


    That, however, was where the bad news ended. Accompanying the increase in quality was a disproportionate decrease in quantity. The populations were at only a tenth of their previous size. Beckard was almost tempted to think that the celestial was more interested in putting out a show than truly wiping them out, a mistake the demigod was sure to regret.


    ¡°Morning.¡± Archibald nodded at the cat as he reached the pillar at the barrier¡¯s center. The huskar was hunched over, with his back against the medical-ward-cum-weapon-storage¡¯s open door and one of his arms resting atop a propped up knee.


    He was one of the only two present. The other was Lova, who was sitting up in her bed with two of her arms flipping through a novel titled ¡°Shblbbhsh and Clkclkc¡± and the other two cupping her reddened cheeks. She had been cleared to leave the ward the previous evening, after she gained a level and grew out her missing limb, but she had opted to remain, citing her nocturnal nature and the accompanying inability to sleep.


    ¡°Good morning, Archibald,¡± said the cat. ¡°Did you sleep well?¡±


    ¡°Well enough to hold out for another two days,¡± grunted the dog.


    ¡°Better than me then.¡± The priest reached under his robe and pulled off the bandolier strapped to his shoulder. It was covered with a number of odd parts, made of a wide variety of different shapes and sizes. The only shared property was that they were all marked with light purple runes, glowing just dimly enough to be made out. ¡°If you could.¡±


    ¡°Do I look like I¡¯m made of magic?¡± groaned the huskar.


    ¡°You look like you¡¯re made of artifacts,¡± said the cat. ¡°So yes, in effect at least.¡±


    ¡°That was a rhetorical question, y¡¯damned zealot. Now give it here.¡±


    Snatching the item from the tiny feline, Archibald ran his fingers across each of the nodes in turn, popping out the ones that didn¡¯t glow as strongly when touched, and replacing them with similarly shaped devices from the pouch on his waist.


    ¡°You used way too much magic for a man against nothing but small fry.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I last cut loose. I was a little¡­ too rough on them. I needed the extra mana for repairs,¡± explained the priest.


    ¡°Go easier next time. This stuff doesn¡¯t grow on trees.¡± The dog returned the magical battery pack as he got to his feet and began walking towards the pillar he was assigned. ¡°I can cover more of the south this time. If you and Fred can both get a bit of a bigger area, we should be able to keep the east from collapsing.¡±


    ¡°Good idea,¡± said the cat-sith. ¡°Speaking of, where is Fred?¡± He strapped his magical supply back around his shoulder and attached one end to each of his gauntlets as he spoke.


    ¡°Already at his post. He¡¯s been there since before I went to sleep. Doubt the idiot got any rest.¡±


    ¡°He should be fine even without it.¡±


    After sending Lova off to grab the rest of the eastern wall¡¯s protectors, the feline headed north and drove the monsters away.


    Many of the citadel¡¯s fighters struggled against the upgraded monsters, but Archibald¡¯s strategy aided them in getting through the second morning. Lunch didn¡¯t come with any breaks, but the cat-sith kept his energy tank full by nibbling on the occasional frog.


    It wasn¡¯t until the early afternoon that they encountered their first major threat. Brightmoss Maze¡¯s wave finally made its way up through the various transportation systems and joined the fray. There were ascended hellhogs and veabers aplenty, but none of them caught Beckard¡¯s attention. That was stolen instead by the sole anomaly standing in the middle of the crowd. Towering over all its peers and covered from head to toe in armour, it marched with its back straight and its horse-shaped mouth dribbling with foam. It was a monster he would have preferred never to see again, and the only thing to have given even a drop of experience past level 200.


    It was the equitaur from the bottom floor, the one that guarded the gate to the sixth hexstone. Unlike the others, it hadn¡¯t been turned into a lord; it was exactly as it was in its chamber. Because it didn¡¯t need to be any different. The equitaur was not an ordinary monster. It was a trial.


    The grand duelist would match and exceed whatever it fought, be it an individual or a group. The only way to beat it was to overcome one¡¯s own weaknesses and exceed the limits that the equitiaur assumed. It had taken Beckard thirty years of battling the monster to return his classes to level 600, and each fight had been just as grueling as the last. Every success required a deep contemplation of his own strengths and weaknesses and a careful examination of the avenues he could use to grow. The beast would have been an excellent training tool, had its mortality rate been any lower. But as it stood, most of those that challenged it had found themselves crushed beneath its halberd and made into another stain on its battered red armour.


    Scanning the battlefield, Beckard found he wasn¡¯t the only one to have spotted it. Fred was already dashing across the city, charging the distant horse-headed beast with his three-pronged spear aflame.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Spotted equitaur! Handle, me will!¡± shouted the goblin.


    ¡°I¡¯ll cover your station! Focus on the fight!¡± Beckard shifted slightly towards the western pillar and established as wide a domain as he could. It took a fair bit of effort to constantly run between the two posts, but it was the least he could do to alleviate some of Fred¡¯s burden. The less he thought about anything but the horse-beast, the more likely he was to come out on top.


    He occasionally looked in the battle¡¯s direction, but only ever caught the odd glimpse. It was difficult to tell what was going on with all the bodies in the way. The only thing he could say for sure was that their duel was slowly carrying them over towards the floating island¡¯s edge.


    ___


    After ridding the surroundings of any extraneous veabers and destroying the building in his way with his hammer, the smith faced the equitaur with his trident held in both hands. The beast responded in kind and readied its halberd as they slowly circled around. Its movements were slow and patient, tuned to just the right speed to maintain the distance between them.


    Knowing that the clock was ticking against him, the goblin was the first to make a move and break the stalemate. He dashed towards the monster, ducked under the incoming swing, and extended the edge of his blade towards its throat. It almost looked like the weapon would land, but the bipedal horse avoided the impact by rearing its head back and retaliating with a low, sweeping strike.


    The equitaur¡¯s strike was even more accurate than the goblin¡¯s, but a loud, metallic clang stopped it in the midst of its execution; a flying hammer crashed into the side of the blade and smashed its edge into the stone-paved streets. A kick further cemented the weapon¡¯s position, but Fred was unable to commit to a telling blow. He had to back off when the monster lowered its head and threatened to wrench open his throat with its horns.


    Leaping away, the purple-skinned smith cupped his spare hand and brought it to his mouth. His cheeks swelled as his body lit up. His linen shirt was turned to ash, burned away by the magical crest inscribed atop his right shoulder. A system of tattoos, a complex magic circuit, stretched from his core and reached the outer limits of his form. The magic within surged as a brilliant purple flame erupted from his lips and doused the surrounding area in heat. It was a technique meant for tempering a blade, adapted to battle by way of his ingenuity. The ardent blaze melted the road and turned it into a pit of lava. The equitaur¡¯s ankles were swallowed by the molten rock, but its fur was never lit aflame.


    Its ability to adapt, to pose a challenge to any fighter, had rendered it immune to heat. Its resistance was a problem that left the goblin with few options. Fire was Fred¡¯s primary means of offense, a key piece of his identity that had managed to work its way into every one of his classes. But he was unconcerned.


    He had known that the monster would be heatproof, just as it had been the last five dozen times he¡¯d fought it. That was why he had aimed low.


    His target was never the monster, but rather its weapon.


    He had only heated the axe-headed spear to enable another one of his core abilities. When his hammer next touched the centaur¡¯s blade, it bent the weapon completely out of shape. The metal conformed to his will without the slightest resistance; its handle snapped back, wrapping around the monster¡¯s arm and locking it in place.


    He dashed up to the giant, circled to its weak side, and stabbed his trident into his fur. Knowing that the wound was shallow, he reeled the weapon back for a second attack, but found it stuck in the creature¡¯s flesh. The horse had flexed its massive biceps to lock the armament in place. Its bulging muscles were overpowering. They snapped its restraint and destroyed the binding that had once been its spear.


    Retrieving the trident was a lost cause.


    With a small frown, Fred let go of the weapon and leapt backwards whilst avoiding a flurry of punches, with only a few of them grazing his frame and cutting his skin. They were roughly even. Just as expected. Both had lost a weapon, and both had been dealt the odd inconsequential wound.


    The uneventful engagement was sure to have been only one of many, had a song not immediately washed over the battlefield. Its short vibrant notes came with an immediate sense of recognition. The tune was one of Zelos¡¯ classics, a combination of several spellsongs that would bolster his power almost tenfold.


    He was late, and his absence was completely unexplained, but knowing that he was alive and present filled Fred with a sense of security.


    With him on the field, their victory was assured.


    Alfred¡¯s army would be unable to overcome their defenses.


    Without turning his head, Fred greeted the incoming elf with a casual wave and engaged his foe with his hammer held firmly in his grasp. He faced the horse-headed monster head on and parried the hundred punches it threw every second. By engaging it, he was keeping it held perfectly still, so that Zelos could ambush it as soon as he joined the fray. And the elf prepared to do just that. He reeled back his bloodied cursed sword and thrusted it with all his might.


    The blade struck true, piercing straight into his target¡¯s side. It tore through the monster¡¯s ribs, pulverizing them as he destroyed both lungs with its sharpened edge. The blade was twisted further up into the unsuspecting victim¡¯s body, stabbing its way through the side of its throat, nearly decapitating it. Having failed to anticipate the attack, his victim opened its eyes wide and gasped for air as it broke away.


    Blood dribbled from its lips, his lips, as he coughed.


    Questions raced through the goblin¡¯s mind, but none could be voiced. The only sounds that came from his throat were bloody gurgles. His voice box had been destroyed, and it showed no signs of regenerating. Like the blade that inflicted it, the wound was cursed. He needed a priest to undo it, if he wished for any chance of recovery.


    He wanted to fly into a rage and unleash his might upon the traitor, but he knew better than to let his emotions take control. He was already out of breath. It was impossible for him to draw out the full extent of his power with his windpipe crushed. His muscles would fail if they were left to run on nothing but the mana flowing through his circuits.


    So he backed off. He turned tail and ran for the nearest alleyway, but his legs were weak. They shook each time he took a step. Zelos and the equitaur were gaining on him. Rapidly. Too rapidly.


    He could feel his blood run cold.


    He already knew.


    He was going to die.


    Fred didn¡¯t know where he went wrong. There was no purpose in Zelos¡¯ betrayal. Their quest was shared. There was no reason for him to discard the reward that had cost him his last seventy years, just to stab them in the back right as their plan was about to come to fruition. Even if something happened to his family.


    Victory was beyond his grasp. There was no way for him to face Zelos and the equitaur alone. The others wouldn¡¯t make it in time. He had been drawn too far away from them; he doubted that either was even aware of his plight.


    He was going to die.


    Blood sputtered from the goblin¡¯s throat as his legs gave out. He collapsed, falling onto the stone-paved street, but his body was pulled into the alley nonetheless. A power that wasn¡¯t his own grabbed ahold of him and reeled him into the back street. He was hoisted through several narrow passageways before he was finally set down and propped up against a wall.


    When he looked up, through his glassy, bloody eyes, he found another one of the missing persons. Claire was standing in front of him with everything but her head obscured by a thick leather cloak.


    He opened his mouth to offer a groan of thanks, but she spoke before he could squeeze out a sound.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been cursed,¡± she said. ¡°You don¡¯t have very long. Maybe a few minutes at best.¡±


    He wanted to object. Though the wound was bad, it had missed his heart. He would be fine, so long as he was able to make his way to Beck before he bled out.


    ¡°Beckard¡¯s dead.¡±


    As if reading his mind, she crushed his hopes. Before they could even be conveyed.


    He couldn¡¯t believe it. He didn¡¯t want it to be true.


    ¡°Zelos already killed him.¡±


    But the outcome almost seemed like a given. Beckard always had been the worst duelist among them, and Zelos the best. Even with his mind hazy, he could easily foresee a conflict between them swiftly ending in the cat-sith¡¯s demise.


    ¡°You have two choices.¡± There was a silvery glint as she produced a dagger from inside her cloak. ¡°You can resist, give him the experience, and make it harder for the rest of us.¡± The blade¡¯s edge almost seemed to warp as it reflected the icy blue light radiating from her chest. ¡°Or you can yield.¡±


    The light turned golden as it spread from her core. It ran down her arm, twisting along its length like a snake before encasing his creation in a thin layer of ice.


    ¡°Feed me the experience instead, and I¡¯ll kill him by sundown.¡±


    He didn¡¯t think she could do it. Zelos was too far beyond her.


    But he began to have second thoughts as he slowly raised his head and looked into her eyes.


    They were as cold as the ice she wielded.


    She was looking at him not as prey, but an insignificant piece of garbage by the wayside. The same eyes that most had looked at him with, prior to his first ascension, when he was as weak as a human child.


    He couldn¡¯t help but feel like he was beneath her, like he was being offered a deal by a malicious dark god.


    Like she could carry on his will.


    So he accepted.


    Unsteadily, he grabbed her hand.


    His blood vessels crystallised and burst as they came into contact with her frozen fingers, but he ignored the pain.


    And guided her blade to his chest.


    He couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. At the thought of being killed by one of his own creations. It almost felt like something of a cycle, a sort of flow that would please the goddess to whom his soul would never return.


    Smiling softly, he closed his eyes and said one last prayer. An ode to the flow. To the traitor¡¯s demise. And the malevolent deity¡¯s rise.

 Chapter 135 - Willow in the Western Wind III

    Chapter 135 - Willow in the Western Wind III


    Claire spent a full minute standing in front of the goblin¡¯s corpse, log entries firing through her head all the while. She didn¡¯t spin around and step into the invisible bubble behind her until the goddess¡¯ words finally started to slow. The sudden influx of power still had her in its grip; her head was pulsing and her veins were lit aflame. An excessive torrent of magic was flooding her circuits, paralyzing her mind and body alike.


    Log Entry 5080


    Achievement Unlocked - Systematic Defiance II


    You have slain an entity of an ascension level significantly greater than your own. This feat will be taken into consideration when it comes time for ascension.


    It continued to affect her even as she was taken back above the battlefield. Her thoughts remained incoherent until Flux narrated the log¡¯s final entry. And only then did she finally process all the information gleaned. Frederick had been level 712. His ability scores and classes were both inferior, but as far as levels went, he was on par with Cadria¡¯s royal guard, the best soldiers her father had ever trained.


    The kill wasn¡¯t truly hers. She had only struck him once. But the sheer difference in levels had filled her with strength. Her racial class had shot all the way up to level 176, and her two others followed suit, with both reaching their caps of 150.


    A series of potential evolutions popped into her mind, but she was unable to sort through them immediately. She was too uncomfortable to read through them all in detail. The backlash that came with using her divinity left her nauseous enough to vomit, but she held it in and settled for heaving a series of deep, ragged breaths. It couldn¡¯t have been helped. On its own, her blade was too dull and brittle to pierce a goblin king¡¯s skin. She had needed something that wouldn¡¯t crumble, something that could cut through a hide tougher than a plate of steel, and true ice was the only thing that came to mind. She had no choice but to empty her resources. All five points had been committed to running her weapon through his flesh and stopping his heart.


    ¡°Are you okay, Claire? You look a little queasy,¡± said a voice from on top of her head.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± She reached up to the four-legged hat and gave one of its ears a scratch.


    Sylvia had been present throughout the encounter, standing by in case the plan went south. The lyrkress hadn¡¯t wanted to rely on her, or anyone for that matter, but facing a sentient monster with three ascensions by herself was a gamble she was unwilling to take.


    ¡°Are you sure that was okay?¡± Claire flicked the blood off her frozen dagger as the ice slowly retreated back to her core.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I think so,¡± replied the fox. ¡°If Dad isn¡¯t working with them anymore, then I¡¯m not gonna either. The plan¡¯s already totally falling apart anyway.¡± The four-legged creature shrank down to a tenth her usual size and curled into a ball atop Claire¡¯s hair, only to suddenly raise her head. ¡°Wait a second! What the heck! You can¡¯t just ask me that after you finish stabbing him! He¡¯s already dead!¡±


    The lyrkress shrugged. ¡°You would¡¯ve stopped me earlier, if you wanted to.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ maybe.¡± Sylvia propped up her chin with her front paws. ¡°So what are you going to do now?¡±


    ¡°Evolve.¡±


    Claire leaned back against the bubble¡¯s wall as she pulled up her options. Bloodthief could become either Llystletein essencethief, Llystletein spellthief, or blueblood hemomancer, whereas vector mage had its choices laid out as Llystletein vector Mage II, cloudburst sorceress, Llystletein gravity mage, Llystletein stormbreaker and Llystletein spirit commander.


    With a stretch of the shoulders and a breath to clear her still-hazy thoughts, she moved to check each in turn, but a shout stopped her short.


    ¡°Get down!¡± warned Sylvia.


    She ducked as soon as she heard the command and narrowly avoided an incoming bolt. It pierced straight through the bubble, leaving a perfectly round hole both where it entered and exited. A worried frown on her face, the fox on her head pressed a paw to her chest and sang a mellow tune. Her magic filled the barrier, repairing the holes and reinforcing with a thick outer layer.


    ¡°Whew.¡± Sylvia breathed a sigh. ¡°I didn¡¯t think we were gonna get attacked, so I didn¡¯t actually make this one all that durable, but it looks like we¡¯re gonna have to be a little more careful.¡±


    Silently, Claire turned her eyes towards the horizon and gazed upon the distant assailant.


    It was Archibald.


    The dog-faced artificer was standing in the midst of a group of golems with his crossbow pointed not at the lyrkress or the fox, but the elf standing between them. The stray arrow that had nearly ended her was one of the many hundreds meant for Zelos; she had only happened to be in its range.


    The huskar wasn¡¯t the only one engaging the tiny elf in combat. Beckard had also hopped into the fray. He served as the mechromancer¡¯s vanguard and kept his body between the spellsword and the ranger. Every step the elf took was matched; he was never allowed to close in on the vulnerable target that lay to the cat¡¯s rear. Both the citadel¡¯s fighters shouted as they engaged. They tried to speak, to reason with their long-time companion, but he remained deathly silent.


    The huskar cursed and screamed at the top of his lungs as he condemned Alfred¡¯s mind-altering abilities, an accusation that Claire met with a scoff. She had seen his eyes. And they were clear as day.


    She couldn¡¯t help but laugh derisively at their pitiful attempts to break the nonexistent spell, at the fact that they were still naive enough to believe that they would never be betrayed by one of their own.


    ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Mhm?¡±


    ¡°Can you sneak us behind them?¡± asked the lyrkress.


    ¡°Sure thing!¡± chirped the vixen. ¡°Are you gonna help Dad?¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Okay good! Let¡¯s go kick their butts!¡±


    The invisible bubble began flying over the battlefield as Claire returned to contemplating her options. There were almost too many to sort through. Just seeing them made her want to shelve the whole ordeal and put it off until there was nothing else for her to do. But she knew she couldn¡¯t. There were only a few scant minutes before she had to jump back into the fray, so she started at the top of the list and quickly skimmed over each choice in turn.


    Llystletein spellthief and blueblood hemomancer were both immediately disqualified. She didn¡¯t see a point in using her enemies¡¯ spells. Her foes were sure to be well versed in the various quirks and nuances that came with their abilities, whereas she would be left haphazardly wielding powers she knew very little about. It seemed fun, but impractical, just like wild magic.


    The hemomancer class was appealing, given its focus on brute force, but she felt that taking it would be far too big of a risk. Wielding the same powers as her father was a surefire way to grab his attention. He was sure to send people after her as soon as he caught wind of her continued existence, and she didn¡¯t want to have to hold back in battle to better keep him in the dark. She would have been at a loss, had the final option not left her with a fairly positive impression.


    Llystletein Essencethief


    Stealing is an act that most consider morally irreprehensible. You, however, are a kleptomaniac. You take from others not out of necessity, but because the option is available. You have stolen possessions, magic, blood, and even lives, it is only a matter of time before you steal the very fabric from which an individual is woven. It is precisely this unsavoury deed that Llystletein Essencethief enables. The class is one that appeals to those with little to no concern for the lives and emotions of others, a class that launches attacks against the very core of one¡¯s being, with no regard for the rules typically imposed thereon.


    Becoming a Llystletein Essencethief provides an immediate bonus to agility and dexterity. Additional bonuses will be gained on the 450th and 750th levels.


    Possible class upgrades are to be determined.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Slay at least one hundred monsters ranked unique or higher.


    - Raise the bloodthief and manathief skills to level 25 or higher.


    Seeing nothing to lose and no better alternatives, she selected the class and allowed its power to wash over her.


    Log Entry 5081


    You have become a Llystletein Essencethief.


    Your agility and dexterity have increased by 250.


    The Bloodthief and Manathief skills have merged and evolved into Essencethief. As the net skill experience exceeds the minimum threshold, some proficiency has been retained.


    The Dancing skill has been reclassified as a Llystletein Essencethief skill. This reclassification has earned you a proficiency bonus.


    Assassinate, Cloak and Dagger, Dancing, and Severantus¡¯ Call have merged and evolved into Death¡¯s Dance. As the net skill experience far exceeds the minimum threshold, a significant amount of proficiency has been retained.


    The Cooking skill has been reclassified as a Llystletein Essencethief skill and assimilated into Envenom, but no additional proficiency has been earned.


    No summaries?


    Frowning, Claire opened up her new skills and quickly skimmed their descriptions.


    Essencethief - Level 9


    To rob one of their essence is to steal not only the energy that comprises their being, but also the core from where it stems. Your essence, for example, would be one of a mentally unstable teenager with a distinct lack of intelligence. Any individual that happens to acquire and bask in your essence is likely to find themselves addicted to the scent of glue.


    Effects


    - Using this skill may occasionally result in the theft of the target¡¯s essence.


    - You may absorb 3.8% (2% + 0.2% per level) of damage inflicted as health and 7.6% (4% + 0.4% per level) of damage inflicted as mana.


    - Remaining in direct physical contact with an entity for at least 2 seconds enables you to drain up to 14.5% (10% + 0.5% per level) of your maximum health and mana from the target each second thereafter.


    Its nonsensical first effect aside, essencethief was effectively the sum of its parts. The numbers had increased, but that was it. She was disappointed, but the dismay was quick to fade. Her second new skill had brought far more change to the table.


    Death¡¯s Dance - Level 18


    Some are capable of dancing with such elegance and grace that they may hold even an audience of gods as their captives. Others tend to misunderstand the meaning of a performance and find their partners damaged or deceased soon after. Perhaps it is time to hang up your dress, before you are incarcerated for ¡°involuntary¡± manslaughter.


    Effects


    - Your form is lithe and you are quick on your feet. Agility is amplified by 20%. This bonus is increased by an additional 38% (20% + 1% per level) when you are wearing nothing but socks.


    - Evading, parrying, or countering an attack provides a stack of death¡¯s dance, up to 100. Each stack increases the amount of damage you deal by 2.9% (2% + 0.05% per level), increased to 5.8% (4% + 0.1% per level) against targets with less than 20% of their HP remaining. Stacks are lost upon exiting combat.


    - Death¡¯s dance¡¯s fully stacked damage bonus is always applied to your first strike against each target.


    Assassinate had transformed into an almost completely different skill. It was far more consistent, but no longer provided as large of an upfront bonus¡ªa tradeoff the halfbreed was willing to accept. Sneaking up on things had never exactly been her forte to begin with.


    With a satisfied nod, she turned her eyes to her other class and sorted through its evolutions. Again, she dismissed almost the entire group right off the bat. Spirit commander suffered from the same demerits as the spirit sorcerer class she had previously rejected, and Llystletein gravity mage appeared more like a downgrade than an improvement. Its abilities were focused on the manipulation of a single force, and she strongly preferred the freedom that came with her current skillset. Llystletein stormbreaker was simply boring. If its description was to be believed, it was primarily defensive, with a focus on the ability to repel any force-based attacks. That left Llystletein vector mage II and cloudburst sorceress as the only two to catch her eye.


    Llystletein Vector Mage II


    Vector Mage II. Still a noun. A magician or otherwise learned individual that continues to lack a prefrontal cortex. Many consider vector mages to be mad scientists, immoral lunatics willing to stoop to no ends to perform their experiments and achieve their goals. Their utter insanity comes hand in hand with an impressive mastery over forces and the methods by which they can be applied. The Llystletein variant specialises in raw power and freedom of control. This comes at the cost of automation; Llystletein Vector Mage IIs learn fewer spells than their standard counterparts. You are likely to find this class compatible if you find yourself too proficient at ¡°thinking outside of the box.¡±


    Becoming a Llystletein Vector Mage II provides an immediate bonus to all ability scores. Additional bonuses will be provided on the 450th and 750th levels.


    Possible class upgrades are currently unknown.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Reach level 150 as a Llystletein vector mage.


    Why does this description seem so familiar? Dismissing the sudden case of d¨¦j¨¤ vu, Claire shook her head and looked over the other option.


    Cloudburst Sorceress


    Cloudburst sorceresses are haughty, moody, and dismissed by most other magical scholars. Unable to understand any social cues, they continue to press the concept that storms are made of vectors and not winds, but their papers are ignored, composted, and burned. This class fits well with individuals that enjoy being made the subject of others¡¯ derision.


    Becoming a cloudburst sorceress provides an immediate bonus to dexterity, strength, and wisdom. Additional bonuses will be gained on the 250th, 500th, 750th, and 1000th levels.


    Possible class upgrades are to be determined.


    Requirements


    - Reach level 150 as a Llystletein vector mage


    - Be familiar with storms and the extreme conditions therein


    - Be struck by at least seven distinct bolts of non-magical lightning


    - Raise Llysltetein vector mage skills to a cumulative level of 125 or higher


    - Possess no classes that provide control over wind or any other related schools of magic


    - Wear a witch hat for at least 8 consecutive hours, knowing that it is damaged and unpresentable


    She was tempted to dismiss it. Despite having learned too much about its progenitor¡¯s obtuse personality, Claire recognized Llystletein as a brand worth noting. She was much more confident in the classes that carried its name; the lack of its mention made the option seem less powerful, but most of the other hints appeared to point to the exact opposite conclusion. Its level cap was higher, and its requirements were more stringent. She had only managed to sneak past the cumulative skill level requirement by killing Frederick.


    ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Mhm?¡±


    ¡°Have you ever heard of a cloudburst sorceress?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Don¡¯t think so? Why?¡±


    Log Entry 5082


    You have become a Cloudburst Sorceress.


    Your dexterity and wisdom have increased by 250, and your strength has increased by 500.


    Catgirl Detector V. 0.47 has been reclassified as a Llystletein Essencethief skill.


    Vector Manipulation has evolved into Vector Manipulation II. As the net skill experience exceeds the minimum threshold, some proficiency has been retained. Several details pertaining to the skill¡¯s use have changed, including its range, spell list, and viable target set.


    ¡°Wait a second, you did it again, didn¡¯t you!?¡± squeaked the vixen, indignantly.


    ¡°I don¡®t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Vector Manipulation II - Level 4


    To truly understand force magic is to be one with the world¡¯s underlying chaotic nature. You must surrender yourself to the flow and discard all notions of your nonexistent value to truly grasp the scope of the universe. With your thought processes as they stand, this task remains impossible. Perhaps it is time to address your vanity, or better yet, realise that you are an insignificant ant in the grand scheme that is the universe.


    Effects


    - You are capable of applying your force magic to any object you are capable of perceiving.


    - The maximum output of your force magic is increased by 240% (200% + 10% per level) of the sum of all of your ability scores, expressed as a percentage.


    Spells


    - Apply Force IV


    - Concentrate Force I


    - Transfer Momentum I


    - Vector Storm I


    Claire assumed that apply force¡¯s fourth variant would be no different from its predecessor, but a quick check confirmed that it possessed a non-insignificant amount of additional functionality.


    Apply Force IV


    Spend up to 1000MP to apply either a linear or rotational force to a target of your choosing. You may select and manipulate targets even if they are otherwise immaterial.


    There were a number of changes worth noting, but she spent only a few seconds thinking through them before turning her attention to her other new acquisition.


    Vector Storm I


    Spend up to 50% of your maximum MP to create a storm of vectors. The maximum number of targets is equal to Vector Manipulation II¡¯s level. The maximum number of vectors is equal to the maximum number of targets squared.


    It was Alfred¡¯s spell, the one that he had used to keep her suppressed. Its potential was ridiculous, and she was confident that she could draw it out if she was given the opportunity to practice.


    ¡°So what is a cloudburst sorceress anyway?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Someone good at force magic,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Huh? Force magic?¡± The fox blinked. ¡°I thought it¡¯d be for wind magic or something.¡±


    The totally unreasonable assertion was dismissed with a shake of the head.


    ¡°That¡¯s weird¡­¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s just ¡®cause Al¡¯s bad at naming things.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± Claire shrugged as she tried grabbing the air in front of her and shifting it around. It was almost akin to a breeze; it would blow through her hair every time she instructed it to move past her, calmly and gently. Sylvia didn¡¯t seem to dislike it either. She even raised her neck so she could experience more of the artificial breeze.


    ¡°Woah¡­ that¡¯s neat,¡± said Sylvia.


    Nodding, Claire lowered her hand, took a deep breath, and drew her daggers as they closed in on her prey. All three of the relic hunters¡¯ remaining members were constantly on the move. Zelos and Beckard were engaged in a melee, whilst Archibald was hopping from vantage point to vantage point, rapidly firing his bolts whenever he was given a chance.


    Murdering her target would be difficult, but Claire had a plan. All she needed to do was close the distance to zero.

 Chapter 136 - Willow in the Western Wind IV

    Chapter 136 - Willow in the Western Wind IV


    Archibald¡¯s moustache fluttered in the wind as he raised the crossbow that was his arm and took aim. Even for the master marksman, who was quite literally one with his weapon, lining up a shot was difficult. Beckard and Zelos were moving around at a hundred times his speed, and he couldn''t afford to miss. He had to land a debilitating, non-lethal blow, a shot perfectly timed to hit one of the elf¡¯s limbs.


    He didn¡¯t know what kind of magic Alfred had used to seize control of the swordsman¡¯s body, but he was confident that they would be able to help him, so long as they captured him alive. Beckard was unable to cast whilst engaging in close quarters combat, but he would be able to purify the elf¡¯s affliction in short order, so long as he was allowed to focus.


    Fortunately, the knife-ear was actively fighting the magic that had him constrained. His blows were non-lethal; he would always shift his blade just enough to keep it from taking the priest¡¯s life. After each telling blow, he relented and paused, just long enough for the cat-sith to close his wounds; the battle would have ended long ago had he been unrestrained, but such was the might of the only Greenwood elf to have mastered the ancient Redleaf art.


    The long, drawn out melee was an opportunity that swung in their favour. Beckard had the edge in a battle of attrition; he was a true paladin, unlike the others, who possessed the title but lacked the class. Healing himself was a simple task that consumed only a sliver of mana; he would be able to recover, so long as he wasn¡¯t slain in an instant. It was precisely his sustained durability that allowed him to wear down his opponent, or more specifically, the consequences thereof. Every slash the elf landed came with a splatter of blood. Some were dodged or repelled with his sword, but not even he could evade them all. The occasional drop would land on his skin, catch fire, and burn his flesh away.


    After switching positions and taking aim, for the twentieth time, the ranger noticed an irregular glint out of the corner of his eye. Glancing towards it, he found a creature emerging from the equitaur¡¯s corpse. It was almost a thousand meters away, but to his artificial eyes, everything was clear as day. The strange animal was a viper, a large snake, covered in a patternless coat of silvery-blue scales. The monster slithered off as soon as it broke free and darted through the citadel¡¯s streets. It snuck from building to building, shadow to shadow, as it slowly made its way to the battlefield¡¯s most prominent conflict.


    Knowing it to be another one of Alfred¡¯s creations, the artificer took aim and fired a pair of arrows. Each was a bolt of electric energy, constructed of exactly 1645 mana, the amount he regenerated in a second. They were not the most powerful attacks, but they were fast and accurate. And yet, neither landed on target. The monster swerved out of the way and dodged not only the projectiles, but also the tiny explosions that followed. He generated and fired another dozen arrows, laced with more powerful payloads, but again, the serpent evaded his fire.


    ¡°Damn it! Fuck Alfred and everything he¡¯s ever made!¡±


    Snarling, he looked through one of his ravens¡¯ eyes and checked his surroundings before leaping into the street and taking off. He navigated the urban maze with the help of his drones, turning a total of seven times to reach his destination. Once atop Frederick¡¯s forge, he raised his bow and unleashed another barrage of attacks. But again, the serpent refused to fall.


    It repelled his regular arrows with its tail, as would some sort of monk, and evaded the exploding variants by seeking cover or digging its way underground. Slowly but surely, it was closing in on Beckard¡¯s back, whilst the priest remained none the wiser. Archibald wanted to shout, but he knew he couldn¡¯t warn him. Even the slightest distraction, voiced at the wrong moment, could distract the priest and render his life forfeit.


    The dog leapt from his perch with another low growl. He could easily annihilate the snake with a larger explosion, but he would have to get closer if he wanted to make use of an even bulkier arrow. His bowstring was too loose, and he couldn¡¯t fix it without compromising the plan. He needed Alfred to know his exact range if they wanted to stand a chance.


    A thousand complaints were voiced under his breath as he landed on the main street and sprinted after the serpent. Even with his body altered and enhanced, the huskar wasn¡¯t much faster than the monsters hovering in his vicinity. He had to dispatch each as he moved, so that he wouldn¡¯t be overwhelmed. Each individual attack was fatal. The arrows would pierce the monsters¡¯ brains, detonate, and cover the streets with their grey matter. He checked every kill against his log; his approach was careful and cautious, made in a way that ensured he would not be caught unawares.


    That was why he was surprised to find his ankle grabbed. A tendril, sourced from a flowerless mirewulf, snagged him by the foot before he could scale the cathedral; it overpowered the piston in his legs and pulled him back down to the ground. The dog managed to land on his feet, but not before he was grabbed by the throat and smashed against a wall.


    The artificer deployed a mechanical claw from the base of his bow and swiped at the space in front of him. The talon-shaped bayonet was sanctified, blessed with the ability to purify the undead and destroy the immaterial, but even then, it hit nothing. That interaction alone informed the huskar of the assailant¡¯s identity. It was Alfred, or perhaps one of the foxes serving under him. They were the only ones whose force magic was potent enough to move his heavy, metal frame.


    Still, he was not alarmed. The huskar reached into his pocket and produced one of the many devices he had picked up over the course of his journey. It produced a large barrier around him as it was activated, a defensive matrix capable of neutralising all the spells running rampant within it. Surely enough, it was effective. The stranglehold on his windpipe faded as the magic-negating circle manifested under his feet. For a moment, he relaxed. Breathing a small sigh, he brought a hand to his throat and slowly eyed his surroundings. Alfred wasn¡¯t very fast on his feet, and all the foxes were mages. He would be safe, so long as he remained within the barrier.


    Or so he thought.


    His mechanically enhanced senses picked up on a series of loud rumbles, but he was unable to pinpoint it until it was too late. Its origin had moved. Until it was almost directly underfoot. He needed to fire an arrow, but he couldn¡¯t use his bow without abandoning his defenses. The weapon was effectively a wand; its bolts could not be constructed if no magic was allowed.


    Bending his knees, he leapt just high enough to escape the barrier, only for the mirewulf¡¯s corpse to interfere with him again. The alpha landed directly on top of him and sent him crashing into the dirt. He scrambled to get up, but a thin, frail looking hand burst from the earth and grabbed him by the throat before he could rise to his feet.


    He immediately tried to bash his bayonet against it, but a tendril, a long scaly limb, seized his arm and wrenched it behind his back. Another hand gave his other arm the same treatment; he was incapacitated, with his legs serving as the only remaining points of resistance. He deployed the knives hidden in his mechanical ankles and kicked at the attacker. He gauged and swiped like a madman. But the last-ditch effort yielded no notable results. The blades slid off the assassin¡¯s armour; he couldn¡¯t muster up enough force to do any lasting damage. He didn¡¯t have the strength. His dexterity and wisdom were both nearing the hundreds of thousands, but the ability score representing his raw power was barely three digits. He had always solved his problems not through his might, but the application of his mind and the use of his robotic companions.


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    He had already tried ordering his mechs to attack. They had abandoned the mission they had been previously assigned and rushed to his side, but those that drew close were eliminated, not by the individual strangling him, but another party. If the ravens¡¯ half-intelligible reports were to be believed, it was a fox. One of Alfred¡¯s minions was getting in his way and doing its utmost to seal his fate.


    Left with no other choice, he disabled the clamps that kept the prosthetics attached to his knees, triggered their self-destruction mechanisms, and kicked them towards his rear. It was a feature built primarily to protect his technologies and designs, but it was potent enough to function as a weapon in case of capture.


    At the count of three, the artificial legs burst into brilliant fireballs. Napalm spewed from his creations, engulfing everything in a ten meter radius in a ball of flame. The artificer was no exception. He could feel his lungs frying as they were filled with fire.


    And yet, the grip on his throat refused to loosen. The blast was ineffective; he was the only one he had managed to hurt.


    Terror flooded his system as he realised that there was no way out. He opened his mouth to scream for the priest¡¯s help, only to find a blade jammed into his throat. His tough, metallic flesh prevented the weapon from cutting through him, but he could do nothing as it dug through his gullet and destroyed the artifact that had replaced his vocal chords.


    He flinched as pain suddenly began working its way through his system. It felt like his wrists were being stabbed, over and over by dozens of tiny glass shards. The same sensation came from the other points of contact; the arm around his neck was like a vice made from the blade of a saw.


    A quick glance at his health revealed that it was dropping at a slow but steady rate. There were no more physical strikes, but the damage was unrelenting. His assailant continued to hurt him, to sap his life force away.


    ___


    Log Entry 5083


    You have slain a level 744 Huskari Android Mainframe.


    This feat has earned you the following bonuses:


    - 114 points of agility


    - 10 points of dexterity


    - 41 points of spirit


    - 172 points of strength


    - 60 (30x2) points of vitality


    - 12 points of wisdom


    Claire frowned as she looked over the log entry. She had put a lot more effort on killing Archibald, but the bonuses he yielded were not much different than those provided by Frederick¡¯s demise.


    Log Entry 5084


    You have leveled up.


    Your racial class, Frostblight Lyrkress, has reached level 209.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Essencethief, has reached level 192.


    Your secondary class, Cloudburst Sorceress, has reached level 157.


    You have gained 1908 ability points.


    All in all, she had wound up with a similar number of levels, but she couldn¡¯t tell if that was only because some of the goblin¡¯s experience had gone to waste, with both bloodthief and vector mage reaching their final levels. Whatever the case, she ignored all the skill-related entries read in the goddess¡¯ voice skimmed right through to the end.


    Log Entry 5090


    You have completed ¡°Eliminate Insurgents.¡±


    250 levels have been awarded. These may be freely distributed through your status screen. All levels must be distributed simultaneously.


    Your Llystletein Authority skill has been upgraded to Llystletein Authority++. Your soul has been unmarked for harvest, and the actions submenu has been upgraded with the ability to open a portal to the location from which you last entered the lost library. This ability may only be used within Llystletein.


    Again, the lyrkress frowned. It both was and wasn¡¯t what she wanted. The freedom to leave on command was welcome, but returning to the manor would do nothing but quite literally put her right back where she started.


    She had become much stronger over the course of the time she had spent in the dungeon, as evidenced by her most recent kill, but she was no match for her father, or even his soldiers. Archibald had only fallen because Sylvia had helped to expose his weakness. She never would have been able to stick to him for long enough to execute him, had the fox not safeguarded her from his minions.


    If she was unable to win a fair fight against a level 700 artificer, she would never be able to defeat even one of the three hundred soldiers in and around the manor. If she was lucky, she would be able to sneak out without a confrontation, but she doubted that fortune would shine on her so, even with the fox¡¯s help. The lyrkress didn¡¯t know exactly how high her companion¡¯s level was, but she doubted that they would be able to escape from her father either way. His senses were too sharp; the bubble they were using to get around Llystletein was meaningless before the all-seeing General Augustus. They had to resort to commandeering Beckard¡¯s plan and using his key, lest they were willing to risk certain capture.


    The half moose sighed. Slowly shaking her head, she backed away from Archibald¡¯s corpse and walked through the back alleys with her eyes focused on her status screen.


    Her ascension was imminent. The quest¡¯s reward provided the ability for her to level her racial class to its cap in an instant. But that instant was something she didn¡¯t quite have.


    Her danger senses all went off at once. Her scales rose, her eyes sharpened, and her ears twitched. Something was coming. She could feel it approaching, its only giveaway a high pitched whistle.


    Stepping back just in time, she narrowly avoided the tip of an accursed blade. Its dark, corrupted edge cleaved straight through her previous position as its owner looked at the corpse behind her in horror.


    ¡°You killed him.¡±


    Zelos grit his teeth. His arm shook as he tightened the already firm grip he had on his weapon. His breathing was erratic, and his heartbeat even more so. A glance at the object in his other hand revealed an unmoving cat-sith. His priestly robes were covered in cuts and bloodstains. He was tied up, but his chest was still heaving, evidence that blademaster¡¯s intentions had differed from hers.


    ¡°Yes, I did.¡±


    There was no lying her way out of the accusation. He had likely seen it, or at least caught a few glimpses. It had taken nearly a full minute of channeling to steal all of the huskar¡¯s health, more than enough time for him to note the sudden lack of arrows.


    ¡°Why?¡± Zelos continued to tremble. ¡°Why, Claire? He was a good man.¡±


    ¡°He was a nuisance.¡±


    She had never intended to abide by Alfred¡¯s whims, but like Alice¡¯s brother, Archibald had always been at the top of her list. The huskar was the one that created the ravens that made her suffer, and he was the one that had denied her the opportunity to vent her rage. Death was all he deserved; she had only refrained from ending him during their previous encounters because she had been hoping to avoid the precise confrontation in which she found herself engaged.


    ¡°You killed Frederick. You¡¯re not one to judge.¡±


    Zelos frowned. ¡°No I didn¡¯t.¡± He began circling around her with his weapon raised.


    ¡°I watched you stab him through the neck.¡± Claire turned at the exact rate he walked. Her eyes were kept focused on his feet, for the moment she would need to react.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°He isn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°A wound like that won¡¯t kill a goblin king, cursed or not.¡±


    ¡°I watched him bleed out. He¡¯s dead.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible!¡± The swordsman¡¯s voice grew louder as his eyes moved to the side, towards what she assumed was likely a log.


    He looked away for only the briefest of moments.


    Just enough time for the lyrkress to launch an attack.

 Chapter 137 - Willow in the Western Wind V

    Chapter 137 - Willow in the Western Wind V


    Driven by a charged vector, the dagger hidden in Claire¡¯s cloak cracked through the air like a whip. It nearly pierced the elf¡¯s skull, but he deflected it with a magical puff. It was a breath attack, a blast of wind, sourced from within his throat. The spell caught not only the weapon, but also its wielder, blowing both away with overwhelming force.


    He appeared in front of her before she landed and swung his sword at a blinding speed. She was able to catch the overhead cleave with her other dagger, but the defense was ineffective. His blade glided through the metal and cut into her flesh. None of her scales or bones were able to put up any resistance. Not against the cursed blade, nor its master.


    The severed limb splattered onto the ground, blood erupting from its stump. She wanted to howl as waves upon waves of agonizing pain shot through her spine. But she clenched her teeth and bore with it.


    Because it was the expected result.


    She knew about his weapon. He had bragged about it when he taught her to better handle a sword, and demonstrated its efficacy on one of the labyrinth¡¯s walls. It wasn¡¯t something that she could handle with the shoddy tools at her disposal; she had entered the battle with the expectation that she would be unable to escape unscathed. That was why she ignored her throbbing shoulder and pressed on.


    The attack that followed was a charge. Repositioning her tail, she launched herself towards him and rammed her spike towards his chest. The only point of divinity that had regenerated since Frederick¡¯s death was immediately put to use. Her shard grew to three times its usual length and artificially extended her range. He tried to cut through it, but unlike her blade, the shard could not be cut. The resistance caught him off guard, throwing him off for just long enough for her to plunge it through his ribs. A quadrupedal bloodrush at its finest.


    She grabbed his body with her remaining arm and threw him to the wayside. His innards were torn apart as the true ice emerged from the side of his body, a trail of guts following behind him. She had morphed the catalyst into a hand and grabbed a fistful of whatever she found in his ribcage¡¯s depths. The sequence was swift, but not swift enough for her to avoid the counter that followed. His blade clipped past the side of her head as he fell, taking one of her precious ears along with him. The copious amount of blood expelled from the wound dyed her hair a deep crimson. The world began to distort, to tilt on an axis, as her hearing was thrown off, but she quickly crafted an icy prosthetic. The same was done for her arm; she filled the limb¡¯s spot with a chunk of ice, shaped just like the part it was meant to replace. It was clunky and difficult to manipulate; the substitute barely did her any good, but it was the only way to stop the bleeding.


    The damage that Zelos¡¯ sword inflicted was damage that couldn''t be regenerated. Each cut ate through not only her flesh, but also her maximum health. Like the deceased goblin, she needed a priest or some other divine power to remedy her broken body.


    When she spun around again, she found her opponent already back on his feet. She had certainly dealt a heavy blow, but no longer was she capable of doing the same again. Her shard was already shrinking. She was out of divinity. There was no more fuel for its growth.


    The elf opened his mouth as he flicked the blood off his weapon. From his lips flowed a melody, one made of bright, vibrant notes. The lyrics told the tale of a lost elven forest, made of willows with branches stripped bare by a raging storm.


    His body began to glow a light shade of orange as their surroundings warped. Trees¡ªwillows¡ªsprang from nearby buildings, their leaves the same oranges, reds, and browns as his hair. Dark rain clouds, crackling with lightning, filled the sky and obscured the heavens. The sunny afternoon was gone, replaced by a pouring rain that chilled her cold-resistant body to its core. There was something particular about the squall. She could sense it. She could feel its rains and winds against her face, but she knew it wasn¡¯t there. Beckard, who still lay unconscious by the side of the road, was unaffected. His clothes failed to flutter, and none were showing even the slightest hint of absorbing the moisture brought about by the downpour.


    She was its only target, the only one that could feel the westerly wind.


    It was no different from any of Sylvia¡¯s tricks. The bard¡¯s song was distorting reality, taking into its spell all that heard its tune. It could have been avoided, had she plugged her ears before he began, but as it stood, it was too late. He had already plunged her into his pocket of the world, his personal reality, where the rules were exactly as he defined.


    He raised his blade overhead as the song picked up its pace. Attracted by the lightning rod, a bolt of thunder descended from the firmament and struck his sword. Rather than frying him, it served instead to charge his blade. The energy remained within his weapon¡¯s edge, pulsing in a strange mix of blues and yellows. The colours seemed to shift back and forth as he walked towards her, but they remained distinct, never melding together.


    She whipped her dagger at him, but a quick swipe of the blade severed its edge from its chain. Another rogue would have given up on the weapon, but Claire did just the opposite. Betting on the broken piece, she magically grabbed its handle as soon as it hit the floor and drove it into one of his ankles. From there, she raised it, pulling it towards his core in an attempt to destroy his leg, but he tensed his muscles and locked the shabby knife in place. Casually lifting his foot, he grabbed the blade, pulled it out, and crushed it in his hands. She hoped that it would at least cut his fingers, but the metal offered no resistance. It crumbled like limestone and turned to dust in his palm.


    Her mind raced as she looked around for an alternative. There were no other weapons for her to use. Pieces of rock had broken off their surroundings when the trees sprouted from within them, but she doubted that they would be of use. They weren¡¯t heavy enough, and even if they were, he would be able to dodge them with ease. The trees themselves were just as incompatible. Their wood was too soft and brittle; she could easily rip off one of their branches, but they would just be cut in half, or perhaps even ignored.


    There were no objects available to her.


    So she grabbed a piece of the storm.


    Raising her hand, she pointed a finger towards the crackling lightning overhead and seized control of its current. The impulse abided by her will and descended from the heavens, but it had no effect. Like the first strike, it was caught by the elf¡¯s sword and stored within its blade. When she next raised her hand, she grabbed not one bolt, but five. Each of her fingers ordered a different current, but the attack never landed. The sky shattered before she could lower her hand, breaking into a million fragments like a mirror fallen to the floor. With the heavens went the bard¡¯s illusion. The trees, the wind, the clouds. Everything was broken to bits.


    ¡°What the heck guys! Knock it off!¡±


    A fox appeared between them, fangs bared and ears pulled back. She looked between the two fighters before standing up on her hind legs, crossing her arms, and huffing.


    ¡°Claire! You promised me you wouldn¡¯t try to kill my dad!¡±


    The lyrkress didn¡¯t respond. Her eyes were kept focused on the swordsman, whose blade was still raised. He was slowly inching forward, one step at a time. Every time his daughter looked away.


    ¡°Stay out of this, Sylvie. She killed my friends.¡± He spoke under his breath. His voice was steady, but not quite steady enough to conceal his rage.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m going to let you kill mine!¡±


    A bubble appeared around the elf and trapped him inside. He tried to break free, both by singing and slashing, but neither approach was particularly effective.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to kill him,¡± said Claire. She was still tense and her eyes were still on him.


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    Sylvia planted her face in her paws. ¡°Oh, shush! You were totally gonna if you got the chance and you know it.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    ¡°Definitely!¡±


    Claire turned her eyes away, without another word. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. It wouldn¡¯t have been possible.¡±


    ¡°See! I knew it!¡± grumbled Sylvia. ¡°Geez. You¡¯re so predictable¡­¡±


    The fox shook her head before walking up to her father and putting her paws on her hips. He had already stopped struggling by the time she approached. His blade was back in his sheath and his hands were in his pockets, but his face had yet to return to its usual gentle demeanor, covered instead with a scowl.


    ¡°Dad, calm down. Please,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I can¡¯t, Sylvie. She killed Archie, and I think she might¡¯ve even gotten Fred.¡± His voice was carried through a hole that appeared at the top of the watery prison.


    ¡°You stabbed him first,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°That¡¯s bec¡ª¡±


    The shout was cut off by a glare. ¡°You picked your side. All I did was join it.¡±


    Log Entry 5092


    Paralyzing Gaze has reached level 24.


    ¡°My side? My side!?¡± He smashed a fist against the bubble, his lips twisted into a furious scowl and exposed his clenched teeth. ¡°You killed my friends!¡±


    ¡°Because you struck them first.¡±


    ¡°Claire! Knock it off! You¡¯re just making it worse!¡± Another bubble appeared out of thin air and captured the lyrkress. The frustrated fox that was its origin slowly looked between her father and her friend with an annoyed groan. ¡°Both of you are idiots!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear that from you,¡± mumbled the rogue. Her voice was isolated, within the bubble. She could hear it bouncing back to her instead of leaking away, but the fox reacted nonetheless.


    ¡°I heard that!¡± Sylvia grumbled and stamped her feet on the ground. ¡°Anyway! Whatever! Dad, explain. Keep it short and sweet or I¡¯ll shut you up again!¡±


    The elf clenched his fists as his speech hole reopened. ¡°They weren¡¯t supposed to die. Alfred said that I just had to incapacitate them.¡±


    ¡°Alfred? You dealt with Alfred?¡± A second male voice entered the conversation with a groan. A hand against his head, Beckard slowly pushed himself off the ground and hobbled over to where the elf and the lyrkress were contained.


    ¡°They both did,¡± said Sylvia, with a sigh. ¡°And thanks to that, everyone¡¯s plans got completely messed up.¡±


    ¡°Both of you?¡± The cat pressed his paw against his snout. ¡°Claire¡­ does not surprise me. But Zelos? Why? You were supposed to be one of our sworn brothers, one of Flux¡¯s chosen champions.¡±


    ¡°I was,¡± he mumbled. ¡°I was.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ were?¡± asked the priest, his throat dry. ¡°Zelos¡­ you¡­¡± Fury flared through his eyes, but only for a moment. A single breath was enough to drive it away. ¡°Please, Zelos. I know you must have had a reason. So please, tell me. What happened?¡±


    ¡°Why, that¡¯s quite simple, really.¡± A human stepped out from a portal, right between the two seasoned veterans. With the celestial¡¯s advent came a sudden end to the bloodbath. All of the monsters suddenly stopped, just as they had the previous night. ¡°He was offered a deal he couldn¡¯t pass up.¡±


    All seventeen of the artifacts crafted by the cat-sith¡¯s dead companions were floating in the air behind him. The explosives were not just accounted for, but also disarmed. They had within them not a speck of the magic that they were meant to have absorbed.


    ¡°Alfred.¡± The name was muttered under the cat-sith¡¯s breath as he raised both his arms. His gauntlets were gone, but he balled his paws into fists nonetheless.


    ¡°Oh, give it a rest already.¡± The human rolled his eyes, planted his cane down in front of him, and sat in an invisible chair. ¡°If I wanted you dead, then I would have just had her,¡± he pointed at Claire, ¡°maul you while you were unconscious. The two that I wanted to be rid of are already gone.¡±


    Zelos took a deep breath, one that was visibly stuck in his throat. ¡°You said you wouldn¡¯t kill them.¡±


    ¡°And I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Hiring an assassin is hardly any different,¡± said the man, with a glare. ¡°You lied to me.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t lie to you. Their deaths came from an unplanned but admittedly welcome miscalculation.¡± Again, he looked at the lyrkress. ¡°She said she wouldn¡¯t work for me, which is why I contacted you instead. Now I owe two people for what was effectively the same service.¡± A small sigh escaped his lips as he shook his head. ¡°Truly unfortunate. It feels as if I¡¯ve been scammed.¡±


    ¡°Zelos¡­ I don¡¯t believe this.¡± Beckard slowly shook his head as he fell to his knees and clutched his head. ¡°You tried to ruin everything, for payment?¡± His paws were trembling and his claws were exposed. ¡°What could he possibly offer you that Flux would not? Where is your faith, elf? How could you just throw it all away?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Beck. I¡¯m sorry. I just,¡± the swordsman pressed a hand to his brow, ¡°I just don¡¯t think I want to destroy Llystletein.¡± He trailed off as he backed away from the magical prison¡¯s wall and sat down. ¡°I¡¯ve been here for seventy years. I know all its ins and outs. And I¡¯ve even met the woman of my dreams.¡±


    ¡°But what about the reward?¡± Beckard looked straight into the other man¡¯s eyes. ¡°Flux said that she would give each of us one of our hearts'' desires. Were you not offered anything? Is that why you never told us? Is that why you decided to forsake her will?¡± He fell to his knees. ¡°Tell me, Zelos. Why did you betray us? It can¡¯t have been just that.¡±


    ¡°Flux already gave me my reward,¡± said the elf. He dropped his sword and looked at his bloodied hands. ¡°Almost thirty years ago.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all the more reason for you to live up to her expectations!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Beck. I really am.¡± Zelos stared at a pebble by the wayside as he mumbled. ¡°None of you were supposed to die. You were all also supposed to be able to leave in one piece, and I was supposed to stay. That was the deal.¡±


    ¡°We could have all left!¡± The priest smashed his fist into the stone-paved road and shattered it. His eyes started to tear up as he repeated the motion, once, twice, thrice, each time with less force. ¡°Together!¡±


    Zelos slowly shook his head, his knife-shaped ears falling as he slowly met the cat¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand, Beck. I don¡¯t want to leave.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ what?¡± Beckard¡¯s face twisted in bewilderment. ¡°But why?¡±


    ¡°Because this is my home.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. You could have gone anywhere, once we broke free. And you could have just taken your wife and daughter with you and found a new home, somewhere safer.¡± Seeing the hesitant, guilty look in his old friend¡¯s eyes, the cat clenched his teeth and pounded the ground again. ¡°Damn it, Zelos. We were going to win.¡±


    ¡°Like hell you were.¡± Alfred interrupted the conversation with a scoff. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know, for the record, that none of you told me anything about those.¡± He pointed at the explosives floating behind him. ¡°I found most of them during one of my regular daily inspections. By the looks of it, they need several days worth of mana to function. You never would have made any headway, without a better design.¡±


    Beckard¡¯s face twisted as he looked between the objects and their deceased creator. Archibald had claimed that they were impervious to the celestial¡¯s detection.


    ¡°Now¡­ it looks like you two have mostly wrapped up, so let¡¯s get on with all our business, shall we? I¡¯ve got tens of thousands of logs to write, and no time for any of you.¡± Alfred pulled a piece of steel out from one of his sleeves and flashed it before throwing it in Beckard¡¯s general direction. ¡°I¡¯ll be returning this, though I doubt you ever realised it was gone in the first place.¡±


    ¡°The key?¡±


    ¡°What else did you think it was?¡±


    The celestial laughed as he watched the cat scramble to catch the artifact out of the air. It was larger than him, and his broken leg made it hard for him to land after getting off the ground.


    ¡°Now, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve already seen the notification,¡± still chuckling, he turned to Zelos and smiled, ¡°but I¡¯ll just say it in case you weren¡¯t aware. I¡¯ve given you your reward, and Dixie¡¯s received the same boost. Unless something drastic happens, you should now have about another three thousand years each.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ thank you, Alfred.¡± Zelos nodded, slowly, before turning his head to Archibald¡¯s corpse. ¡°Do yo¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, I can¡¯t do anything about him, or your other friend. Don¡¯t even ask,¡± spat the old man. ¡°Xekkur would throw a fit if I brought either of them back to life, and he¡¯d hunt down everyone involved, them, you, and even me.¡±


    Zelos clenched his fists. ¡°I understand.¡± His knuckles were white and his canines cut through the bottom of his lips, but he didn¡¯t dare utter another word.


    ¡°Good.¡± Alfred turned around and looked at the two that had remained silent since his arrival. ¡°Now, I believe the three of us need to have a bit of a talk.¡±


    ¡°I have a few demands,¡± agreed Claire.


    ¡°She means she hopes you¡¯ll do her a favour or two,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I meant what I said.¡± The lyrkress tried grabbing ahold of her fuzzy friend, but her hand was unable to make it past the bubble¡¯s outer wall. Confident, Sylvia stuck out her tongue, only to find it magically seized as the essencethief absorbed the mana that made up her prison.


    Magically flicking the fleshy appendage in a random direction, Claire put on her usual poker face and craned her neck back towards the celestial. ¡°Let¡¯s negotiate.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d be happy to,¡± said the demigod. ¡°But first, why don¡¯t we move somewhere a little more private?¡±

 Chapter 138 - To the Ryllian Sea

    Chapter 138 - To the Ryllian Sea


    When Alfred flicked his wand, the group was taken to what appeared to be a cozy living room with a ceiling that hung too low for the oversized human. So disproportionate was the scale that he had to hold down his hat; it would get caught on the ceiling whenever he let it go free.


    Another wave of the wand created a pair of invisible, fireside seats, one for the forbidden idol, and one for the halfbreeds to share. Seeing no reason to refuse his hospitality, Claire turned into a humanoid, leaned back against the magical object, and set the fox down on her lap. Her gaze, cold and blank as always, was directed not towards the demigod, but the flickering flames within his fireplace. Dancing within the hearth were familiar shadows, puppeteering a scene identical to the one they had just abandoned. The elf had started speaking to the cat, but she couldn¡¯t discern his words. No sounds were produced, and the phantoms lacked the detail she needed to read his lips.


    ¡°Is everyone comfortable?¡± asked the celestial.


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ I am, but I don¡¯t think Claire is,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± said the lyrkress.


    Alfred raised one of his brows and gave her a bit of a look. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± The one-armed, one-eared casualty spoke with perfectly feigned confidence. Her words could have easily been taken at face value, had her open wounds not been in plain sight.


    ¡°It is¡­ difficult to discern whether you are bluffing or truly unbothered. Rather impressive either way, really.¡± The celestial scratched the back of his head. ¡°Well, whatever the case, I can have you fixed in no time.¡± He raised his wand and pointed it at the rogue, but she redirected the catalyst with a flick of the wrist.


    ¡°I can fix it myself,¡± she said. Once my divinity recovers.


    The process of undoing a curse was one she had yet to understand. All she knew was that it had something to do with the golden energy stored in her shard, but she stubbornly refused treatment nonetheless. Alfred was the last person with whom she would entrust her body; the thought of allowing his divine power to touch her filled her with revulsion.


    ¡°Yes, yes, I know you¡¯re stubborn, but I can¡¯t have you staining my carpet. Not with blood, at least.¡±


    Claire tried to displace his wand again, but the celestial ignored her futile resistance and went about his business. He waved his magical stick, wrapped her body up in his divine power, and had the curse removed alongside the frosty bandage she had used to stop the bleeding. Her vital fluid began pouring from the still-open wounds, but it never hit the floor. It was gathered instead into a series of small balls, which the celestial guided into the flames.


    ¡°Sylvia, if you could.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m on it!¡± The fox hummed a familiar tune, enveloped the lyrkress with her magic, and saw her arm regrown. ¡°There! You should be all better now.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Sylvia.¡± Claire immediately put the freshly replaced limb to work and patted the fox on the head.


    Alfred leaned back into his seat and heaved a sigh. ¡°Why is she the only one you¡¯re thanking? You do realise that there was no need for me to help you, yes?¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Teenagers.¡± Mumbling and shaking his head, the demigod teleported a pipe first into the fireplace and then to his mouth. ¡°Now that we¡¯re all settled in, I¡¯d like to wrap up our business as quickly as possible.¡±


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll start.¡± Sylvia got to her feet, leapt off her mount¡¯s lap, and walked over to the celestial. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Al¡­ I shouldn¡¯t have tried to help Dad¡¯s friends. I tried to make it up to you by helping Claire get rid of some of them, but I know it doesn¡¯t really work like that.¡±


    Her ears were drooped and her tail was held between her legs. There was no escaping the celestial¡¯s will. She would have to resign herself to whatever fate he wished to impose.


    Alfred took a drag from his pipe before setting it down on his armrest and clasping his hands together atop his lap. ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°M-Mhm?¡± she gulped and raised her head to meet his gaze.


    ¡°Relax,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m not going to punish you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not?¡± She tilted her head and blinked as her tail slowly unfurled.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why I would.¡±


    ¡°I tried to betray you!¡± She started speaking with energy, but trailed off into a mumble with her ears drooping before long. ¡°The same way I tried to betray Claire, and for the same dumb reason too.¡±


    The ancient immortal waved her off. ¡°I found the whole ordeal rather entertaining.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Sylvia gulped as she flashed the demigod a hopeful gaze. ¡°I thought you were going to be super mad.¡±


    ¡°It was a nice break from writing a thousand personalised log entries every other minute. I don¡¯t mind the work, of course. All catgirls deserve every bit of praise and attention I have to give, but it does become rather tiresome during times of war.¡± He turned his eyes on the fireplace and watched as the elf and cat-sith argued. ¡°Besides, they were hardly a threat, to nobody¡¯s surprise I¡¯m sure.¡±


    Sylvia nodded. ¡°Mhm¡­ I didn¡¯t think they¡¯d pull it off unless everything went according to plan, but you messed them up before they could even get started.¡±


    ¡°Whatever the case, I don¡¯t feel like I was really put in harm¡¯s way, or that you did anything to merit my ire. Quite the opposite in fact, you even fetched me when it was time to wrap up.¡±


    ¡°Thanks Al. I¡¯ll make it up to you somehow!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what you said to me,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Y-yeah, and I¡¯m trying! I literally just helped you kill the huskar!¡±


    ¡°Try harder.¡± The lyrkress pulled the fox towards her and tugged on her cheeks. She almost wanted to smile, but refrained, knowing that she was still in the celestial¡¯s presence. ¡°I told you he would forgive you,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Y-yeah, I know you did, but I just wasn¡¯t sure,¡± mumbled the fox. ¡°It almost doesn¡¯t feel right for nothing to happen.¡±


    A mischievous grin on his lips, Alfred brought his pipe back to his face and took a long drag. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind doling out a punishment if you¡¯d prefer one.¡±


    ¡°No thanks!¡± Sylvia squeaked and darted behind her owner¡¯s back.


    ¡°It¡¯s too late to change your mind. You¡¯ve already asked for one, and I intend to comply,¡± said the celestial. ¡°What do you think of a lyrkress fetish?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll stab you in your sleep,¡± hissed Claire.


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    The old man pressed a hand to his belly and chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s rather fortunate that I never sleep then, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    The half-moose remained silent, but narrowed her eyes into a glare.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I wasn¡¯t being serious. It was as much of a joke this time as it was last time I suggested it.¡± The demigod tapped his wand against his chin and made knots in his beard before breaking into a grin. ¡°But if you¡¯re that¡­ thrilled by the idea, then I might just decide to go through with it after all.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll stab you in the face. While you¡¯re awake,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Oh my, how terrifying¡± he said, with another snicker. ¡°You¡¯re more than welcome to try it. But, going back to the previous topic, I do happen to have a more suitable punishment in mind. Something along the lines of a quest, perhaps?¡±


    Sylvia gulped as she slowly snuck her eyes over Claire¡¯s shoulder. ¡°W-what kind of quest?¡±


    ¡°Oh, nothing too complicated.¡±


    Waving his magical stick, he summoned a small chest and slowly floated it in the half elf¡¯s direction. A magical crest appeared on its lid as it landed right in front of the shared vector chair, sealing it shut with an overly complicated spell.


    Log Entry 5093


    You have received a joint quest with Sylvia Redleaf - Flitzegarde¡¯s Greatest Need


    Primary Objective


    - The package is delivered to a temple belonging to Flitzegarde, the goddess of order.


    Failure Condition


    - The package is opened prior to its delivery.


    Deadline: 31 days.


    Completing this quest will earn the forgiveness of the celestial of life and fertility.


    ¡°Why did I get the quest?¡± asked Claire. ¡°I don¡¯t need to be forgiven.¡±


    ¡°Have you already forgotten that you were the one to put this whole idea of leaving the lost library in her head in the first place?¡± grumbled the demigod. ¡°She would never have considered it, if not for you.¡±


    The bluescale rolled her eyes before turning them on the fox, who was fiddling with her whiskers. ¡°Wait a second! Flitzegarde doesn¡¯t have any temples in Llystletein. Does this mean you¡¯re gonna let me leave?¡± asked the wide-eyed critter.


    ¡°Of course. Did you think that I was going to pull you aside for a chat, just to tell you that you would have to stay? You would go ballistic, or wind up depressed. One of the two.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± The fox averted her gaze. ¡°I guess not, but I was really worried that you might.¡±


    Alfred shook his head, rubbed his temples, and turned to the other halfbreed. ¡°This is exactly what I meant, when I said that everything was your fault. She was far more trusting of me before you suddenly decided to butt your head in our business.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said Claire. ¡°And I want a better reward. No one cares what you think.¡±


    ¡°Well then¡­ That one might¡¯ve stung a little,¡± muttered the human. ¡°Do you really have to be so greedy? Delivering a box hardly takes any effort in the first place, Flitzgarde has a temple in almost every major city.¡±


    ¡°Delivery requires payment. Real payment.¡±


    Alfred heaved a long, tired sigh. ¡°You¡¯d be celibate for life, if you were a man.¡±


    ¡°Well I¡¯m not.¡±


    The celestial cackled like a madman, speaking only as the laugh died down to a chuckle.¡°I can fix that for you, if you¡¯d like.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll stab you.¡±


    ¡°Why is that always the first thing you think of? You do realise that violence is not always the answer, yes?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know, right!¡± Sylvia chimed in with a bark. ¡°I think she just likes stabbing things.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fun,¡± said Claire.


    The fox scrunched up her face and shook her head. ¡°We really need to fix your definition of fun¡­.¡±


    ¡°No you don¡¯t.¡±


    Alfred let loose another hearty laugh whilst leaning back in his chair. ¡°As entertaining as this is, I really am short on time. Your reward will be me hearing out your demands, paid in advance.¡±


    Claire returned her expression to its usual neutral state. ¡°Demand.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, whatever. I don¡¯t care how many you have, just be quick about it.¡±


    ¡°Teleport us. So we won¡¯t have to travel.¡±


    Alfred stroked his beard with his free hand. ¡°That can be arranged, but is that really it?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The hand on his chin accelerated. ¡°And here I was thinking that you were sure to ask me to get rid of the fetish I gave you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m being realistic. You wouldn¡¯t do it, even if I stabbed you.¡±


    The response came with a cackle. Alfred slapped the side of his chair and doubled over as he laughed hard enough to wheeze. ¡°Looks like you have me all figured out.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes.


    ¡°So? Where exactly did you wish to be taken?¡± he asked


    Claire looked at the fox, who responded with a nod, before calling to mind one of their longer late night discussions. The pet wished to be spirited away to a place filled with potential for adventure, a land not entirely charted, but safe and stable enough to kick back and relax whenever she wanted. Most important, however, was easy access to seafood.


    Her owner had fewer requirements. All the lyrkress wanted was to be far enough from Cadria to escape her father¡¯s sphere of influence. That was why they had decided on a country deep in the great forest of Tal¡¯ihir, a place often spoken of by bards and frequented by adventurers.


    ¡°Take us to Vel¡¯khan, to the land half taken by the Ryllian Sea.¡±


    ¡°I was hoping that you would go somewhere a little more interesting, like perhaps the Langgbjerns,¡± Alfred frowned. ¡°Oh well, I don¡¯t see why not. Would you like to leave immediately?¡±


    His attention was directed towards the fox, who responded with a hesitant nod.


    ¡°Can you say goodbye to Mom and Dad for me?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± he smiled, gently, in a way that made him look his age. ¡°I know I suggested it, but are you sure you should? While I can¡¯t speak for Zelos with the state he¡¯s in at the moment, Dixie would certainly appreciate you letting her know yourself.¡±


    Sylvia shook her head, slowly, as she fiddled with the tip of her tail. ¡°I uhhhhm¡­ kinda wanna leave before Dad figures out that I helped kill his friends on purpose.¡±


    ¡°That would be a big old mess, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± The demigod smirked, flicked his wand, and opened a portal. ¡°Before you go, Claire, I¡¯d like a word.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re free to speak of Llystletein, I¡¯d encourage it even. Send enough people here, and I¡¯ll see to it that you are rewarded appropriately. But, I¡¯d also like you to remember that I will immediately have your authority skill revoked if you reveal that the ritual robs its victims of their classes and skills. Tell anyone of my motives, and I will be doing everything in my power to ensure that you are silenced.¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°Good. I do look forward to your continued cooperation.¡± He smiled and offered his hand, which she reluctantly accepted and shook. ¡°You¡¯re welcome back at any time. Contact me if you¡¯d ever like to become a librarian, I¡¯m sure you¡¯d make an excellent enforcer with a few hundred extra levels under your belt.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll consider it.¡±


    Nodding, he turned his attention back over to the fox, who was staring through the portal with awe. He set his pipe down, walked to her side, and crouched, as close to the floor as he could get.


    ¡°The same goes to you, Sylvia. You will always be free to come and leave, as you see fit. I¡¯m still hoping that you¡¯ll somehow amass enough divinity and enlist as a celestial in my service, once I¡¯ve put Flitzegarde in her place.¡±


    ¡°Thanks Al,¡± squeaked the fox. ¡°All this means a lot to me. It really does.¡±


    ¡°I know, dear child. And don¡¯t you worry about missing me, I¡¯ll make sure to take care of all of your logs myself.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I know you¡¯re basically my great grandpa and all that, but please don¡¯t,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°That¡¯d just be really weird.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure it would. That¡¯s the point.¡± Taking another puff from his pipe, he got back up to his feet and combed back his messy hair. ¡°Now, as I¡¯ve said time and time again, I happen to be rather busy, so I will be returning to my duties immediately. I do hope to see the both of you again, once you¡¯ve grown a little more, especially in the chest area for you, Claire.¡± He twisted his neck and dodged a blade of ice that threatened to cave in his nose. ¡°Good luck, and farewell.¡± With that final statement, the demigod tipped his hat, one last time, and vanished.


    Claire and Sylvia were left alone in his living room. For a while, both remained silent and gazed upon the distant city reflected within the portal, with only the crackling of the fireplace filling their ears.


    ¡°Are you excited?¡± The lyrkress picked up her companion and held her to her chest.


    ¡°I was¡­¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But now I¡¯m starting to have second thoughts. I¡¯ve never been outside Llystletein before, and I only just realised I won¡¯t know where anything is anymore. W-what¡¯ll I do when I want to eat fish!?¡±


    ¡°Vel¡¯khan is by the sea, and half the country is underwater. There will be plenty of fish.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but what i¡ª¡±


    ¡°No buts. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Squeezing the fox tight, Claire faced the portal and put her best foot forward.


    They were headed to a country that neither of them knew very much about, a faraway land with nothing but new experiences on the horizon. They were sure to struggle, to face new challenges aplenty as they sought to carve their way. But at the very least, they could confront their troubles together.

 Chapter 139 - Epilogue - One Final Memory

    Chapter 139 - Epilogue - One Final Memory


    I opened my eyes to an unending wave of pain. The searing agony was so intense that I almost blacked out again before my mind was rid of all its haziness, as I had the three hundred and seven times before. Every last part of my body, from head to tail, felt like it was on fire. I couldn¡¯t crane my neck to look at myself, but I knew I was in an impossible, unlivable state.


    I couldn¡¯t even scream. None of my vocal chords remained. It was like they were being torn out, again, and again, and again, and again. My throat wasn¡¯t the only part of my being subjected to torture. My eyes were missing from their sockets, pried away by a pair of jagged metal fingers. My body had been split apart, cut down the middle and spread open like a cow¡¯s hide strung up on a tanning rack. I could feel the air blowing against my brain. Its folds screamed each time the burning knife was brought down upon it, but my suffering was unending. I couldn¡¯t think for long enough to find a solution. There was nothing but pain. I couldn¡¯t help but surrender myself to the torment, to wait as it washed over me and robbed my consciousness again.


    The same experience was repeated. Once. Twice. A hundred times. With each iteration, I felt something in me break. I felt the cusp of insanity pull my nerves apart and mangle them beyond repair. I stopped trying to wake by the eight thousand six hundred and second repetition.


    I couldn¡¯t be bothered to care.


    There was nothing left, nothing but to slowly wade through the unending hell that was my reality. I didn¡¯t know when it started, why it started, or what I had done to deserve it, just that there was an infinite abyss I couldn¡¯t escape.


    It wasn¡¯t until the nineteen thousand and fourteenth repetition that I finally recalled my purpose, that I was enduring the pain because it was my duty. So I grit my teeth and bore through it. Or at least I tried. My jaw refused to move. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was because it simply hadn¡¯t responded, if it had been taken like my lungs, but I couldn¡¯t be bothered to care. It was the thought that mattered. Knowing that I still had my will was all I needed to resist.


    Log Entry 2731


    The covenant has come to term. Control of your body has been surrendered to Flux, goddess of the eternal flow. All restrictions have been disengaged and administrative privileges have been surrendered.


    The message I awaited finally showed, after the thirty three thousand and eighth repetition. Slowly but surely, the pain began to fade. My thoughts began to clear, and my gears began to turn. The goddess had entrusted me with an important mission. She had told me of all the costs it would come with, that I would be a tool in her grand scheme. And I had accepted, under the condition that I would be reborn, free from the inhibitions that had plagued me in my previous life.


    In retrospect, I realised that it was not the best of ideas. I knew how obnoxious I became, but for once, I felt like I was finally free to be the degenerate I had always been afraid to expose, that I wouldn¡¯t be judged for who I was.


    I could feel my body piece itself back together. The brain on the desk crawled back into my head. The chords in my throat took their rightful positions, and my frame was folded back together.


    I began to recall all the times I played make believe as a child. It was like I was acting out one of the fantasies I had once had. But only, it was real, and far more vivid than any make-believe scenario I could have conjured. A playmate¡¯s face surfaced in the back of my mind, but it vanished soon after, just as I began to recall all her adorable features.


    Log Entry 2732


    Your formative memories have been sacrificed for a temporary increase to your efficacy in combat.


    Her smile crumbled, fading white as my feet began to move. Step by step, they plodded through a path lined with shelves. My neck refused to move, but even looking straight ahead, I could tell that they were infinitely tall. There was no ceiling in sight, no matter how far I walked.


    After what felt like an eternity, I found myself standing in front of a desk, staring down a familiar face. The progenitor, the one that had created my species. I knew, instinctively and logically, that he was not to be defied.


    And yet, I continued to approach, teeth bared.


    Log Entry 2733


    Your levels and classes have been sacrificed for a temporary increase to your efficacy in combat.


    ¡°Oh.. it¡¯s you,''¡± he spoke whilst casually fiddling with a wand. ¡°That¡¯s certainly quite the divine aura you have there. Care to tell me which god I¡¯m dealing with?¡±


    ¡°I am well aware that you are not as senile as your hideous, decrepit frame would suggest. Do away with your facade, Alfred Llarsse.¡±


    A familiar voice came from within the depths of my throat, but it wasn¡¯t mine. It was too feminine, too foreign, too powerful.


    ¡°I suppose I do have an idea or two. There are few able to pull off such an elaborate ruse.¡± Alfred spoke as he set down his hat and raised his wand. ¡°And there are even fewer that would be willing to approach me in my own domain.¡±


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    The celestial¡¯s aura flared to life. Raw energy radiated off his body as my head began to spin, around and around, like a loose coin inside a washing machine. It took me a moment, a long, long moment, to realise that the distortion lay not with me, but my assailant. The world around the old man was twisting out of shape. The infinite shelves distorted and bent around him like light around a star, forming a vortex made of books and wooden ledges, a spiral that threatened to swallow my consciousness.


    Log Entry 2734


    All notable memories have been sacrificed for a temporary increase to your efficacy in combat.


    A thick golden energy began to leak from my body. The viscous liquid turned a mix of red and black as it flooded my surroundings. It was like an incarnation of death. Everything it touched crumbled to dust. Time almost seemed to come to a standstill as I watched it spread and conquer. I could see each book as it was taken by the abyss, piece by piece. Each title was clear to me, in a language I failed to understand.


    The wave¡¯s target, the man, produced a glass vial from one of his drawers and emptied its contents into his mouth. The golden power that danced from his frame grew stronger, more intense with each passing moment. Before long, he began to glow with all the brightness of a solar flare.


    But his flames were not allowed to burn.


    Log Entry 2735


    Your values, motivations, and desires have been sacrificed for a temporary increase to your efficacy in combat.


    The darkness grew sharp gnashing teeth and used them to eat through the light. It swirled around the man¡¯s aura, sapping it away and turning it to black. Like a damaged lifeboat, he was slowly but surely drowned in the darkened tide.


    Log Entry 2736


    Your otherworldly knowledge has been sacrificed for a temporary increase to your efficacy in combat.


    Blood began pouring from every one of his orifices as he fell to his knees. The darkness began taking over his body, dragging him down in the abyss. But he remained calm, composed, unbothered.


    ¡°That is quite the amount of power, for a proxy.¡± His voice was raspy. ¡°You may as well descend, if you wish to use this much divinity, Flux.¡±


    ¡°Unlike you, I am not foolish enough to walk unknowingly into an obvious trap,¡± said the woman inside my throat.


    ¡°Perhaps, but it never does hurt to hope.¡± His aura flared to life again and burned away the darkness.


    Log Entry 2737


    Your remaining life force has been sacrificed for a temporary increase to your efficacy in combat.


    But it was immediately suppressed.


    ¡°So? What are you going to do to me now? Kill me?¡± asked the man. ¡°I said it to that little experiment of yours earlier, and I¡¯ll say it again now. You¡¯re welcome to try.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re confident,¡± said the woman.


    ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll have you know that not even Flitzegarde was able to end my life.¡±


    Their voices grew more distant as my mind began to fade.


    ¡°I am aware of your soulstones, Alfred, and all seventeen of their locations. But I am not here to erase you,¡± said the woman. ¡°I am here to negotiate.¡±


    ¡°You have me by the groin, dear goddess. I¡¯m not quite sure we¡¯ve defined the term the same way.¡±


    The man¡¯s form distorted as he began to fade from my view.


    He was growing hazier.


    Everything was growing hazier.


    ¡°Grant three requests and I will spare you, pitiful and dysfunctional as you are,¡± said the woman. ¡°Return the souls of my warriors, put an immediate end to your operation, and serve me. That is all I require.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, I can¡¯t quite see myself agreeing with your terms. I¡¯ve already processed both Frederick and Archibald. Adhering to your second request would go against my goals, and I do have to say that while I am certainly open to experimentation, I do tend to find myself more dominant than submissive.¡±


    The sensation was vague, but I could feel my face warping. My eyes were narrowed, my brows were furrowed, and my lips were twisted into a scowl.


    ¡°I have never seen a man so premature,¡± said the woman. ¡°I understand. I will rescind my first demand.¡±


    ¡°But not the other two?¡± asked the man.


    ¡°Know this, deviant.¡± Her voice grew deeper. It was heavy, heavy enough to echo through my mind. ¡°It will not be long before the imbecile that is the goddess of order is dethroned. Obey me, and I will allow you to do with her as you please immediately upon her fall from grace.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Now that is certainly an offer worth considering.¡±


    I could feel my body slowly pitching forward as they continued to converse. The floor was approaching and receding, over and over, as I began losing feeling in my fingers.


    The woman made me smile. ¡°The seed of chaos has already been planted. You were the one that served to raise it, and too quickly at that.¡±


    I didn¡¯t want to smile.


    I just wanted to rest.


    The man scoffed. ¡°And it will take another thousand years to bear fruit regardless.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, but your scheme is not on any better timeframe.¡±


    ¡°I suppose not,¡± said the man. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll play along. It isn¡¯t as if I have any other choice.¡± He breathed a muffled sigh as I finally hit the floor. ¡°So? What exactly do you want me to do?¡±


    ¡°It is simple, really.¡±


    I could barely hear her voice, even though it was coming from my throat.


    ¡°Impede Kael¡¯ahruus. He is the only obstacle.¡±


    My eyes closed as my body started to meld with the darkness. I knew I had to keep them open, but they wouldn¡¯t listen.


    ¡°Your sole duty is to prevent the lion from finding his prey.¡±


    Those were the last words that I heard her say.


    With that one final memory, all that remained began to fade.


    It would not be much longer, until she would fulfill her half of the covenant.


    Until I would be truly reborn.

 Volume 3 Art Gallery

    BEWARE. THESE IMAGES ARE NOT SPOILER FREE.


    Cover


    Full Cover


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    Natalya


    Arciel in chapter 186


    Claire in chapter 217


    This page will be updated in the future, when more art pieces are available. The first three pieces are by SHIUW0.</a> The final two pieces are by Fulminaire.</a>

 Chapter 140 - Prologue - The Lady of House Augustus and the Battle of Meerfog Gorge

    Chapter 140 - Prologue - The Lady of House Augustus and the Battle of Meerfog Gorge


    A woman with a pair of large, floppy ears poking out of a pointed hat paced back and forth through a wide open hall. Completely lost in her own thoughts, the cotton tail continued stepping to and fro, her face adorned with an almost perpetual frown. No attention was paid to anything in her surroundings until she stubbed her toe on the corner of a table. Howling in pain, she stuck out her hands just in time to stop a delicate ceramic vase from rolling off the edge and shattering into a thousand irreparable pieces.


    ¡°Be careful, Ms. Cedr, the duke would have thrown a fit if you didn¡¯t catch that. It¡¯s one of his favourites.¡±


    One of the high-ranking maids stepped out of a nearby dressing room and greeted the grand magus with an awkward smile.


    ¡°O-oh, good morning Marie. I didn¡¯t see you there.¡±


    Her face reddening, Allegra placed the ornament back where it belonged and moved over to the door.


    ¡°How¡¯s she doing?¡±


    ¡°She still seems a little out of it, but the doctor says that it isn¡¯t bad enough to affect her schedule.¡± Mariabelle squeezed the serving tray she was holding to her chest. ¡°Personally, I think we should let her rest for a little longer. She doesn¡¯t have any of the energy she had before the attack.¡±


    ¡°Me too, but it¡¯s too late for a change of plans.¡± Allegra pulled her hat over her face. Her lips trembled, but she said nothing more. Mariabelle was a sweet girl. And as a victim, the Grand Magus felt she deserved to know the truth, but she knew better than to leak a military secret.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Ms. Cedr. I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll get over it soon. I think she¡¯s just shocked that the Kryddarians attacked unprovoked.¡±


    Mariabelle¡¯s understanding of the previous month¡¯s events was shared by the general public. To ignite the flames of war, the duke had spread the rumour that the Kryddarians had attacked his home with a long-ranged curse. Most of the more technically skilled mages, like Genevre, knew from a glance that the claim was a lie, that the manor was clearly the spell¡¯s source, but the truth was swept under the rug. The rich and powerful were all on the duke¡¯s side. They had absolute confidence in his abilities and understood that a war would only bring victory and prosperity. Even knowing the true course of events, they bought into the lie and begged the king to slacken his nephew¡¯s reins.


    In the end, not even the royal aspect was able to deny the surging tide. Less than three days after the incident, he declared that Kryddar and its allies had wronged House Augustus; he made a public announcement detailing an entirely falsified account of the attack on the duke¡¯s manor and claimed that the house¡¯s fair lady had been damaged. He disclosed to people far and wide that she had been rendered mute by the shock, and her injuries were so horrific that it was no longer possible for her to do so much as eat without another¡¯s assistance.


    The masses bought the story without a shred of skepticism. Outrage, fury, and bloodthirst swept across the nation. Far and wide, patriotic warriors proclaimed that they would fight for the honor of Lady Claire Augustus, that they would bring ruin to Kryddar in her name, and that they would return her stolen voice.


    That was the narrative, the narrative whose climax was right upon the horizon¡ª


    ¡°How long until she¡¯s ready for the ball?¡± asked Allegra.


    ¡ªBecause it had finally come time for the jewel of House Augustus to step into the public eye once more.


    Mariabelle brought a finger to her chin and frowned. ¡°It should just be a few minutes. Bea¡¯s finishing up her hair right now.¡±


    ¡°Would I be interrupting her?¡±


    ¡°No, no, of course not. Please, go right ahead.¡± The lady in waiting stepped out of the way and began walking down the hall. ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me, I have to get ready as well. Father sent me a wonderful new dress, just for the occasion.¡±


    Allegra smiled. ¡°That does sound rather like something Count Phlence would do.¡±


    ¡°It certainly does! It¡¯s a wonder that we¡¯re not all spoiled rotten.¡±


    With an adorable flutter of the ears, Mariabelle skipped down the hall and pranced around the corner. She was so excited that her hooves clicked against each other whenever she leapt into the air, and for good reason. Marquis Postumus was among the ball¡¯s attendees. The stallion in question had come running to the capital in a fluster upon learning that Lady Phlence had been cursed. He had brought with him not only a force of priests to tend to her curse, but also dozens upon dozens of gifts symbolising his affections. He had apparently loved her since they were both still foals, but he had been too shy to act; it took hearing of her near demise to finally spur him into action. The rumour around the manor was that he had proposed immediately upon his arrival, in front of her father, the duke, the king, and several other prominent political figures. She was too embarrassed by the whole ordeal to accept, but he continued to pursue her and shower her with his affections until she gave in to his raw passion.


    Though Mariabelle had found her happily ever after, not all of the failed ritual¡¯s victims were so fortunate. The backlash had destroyed half the manor, and some of the servants had been buried beneath the rubble for hours on end. None perished, but the survivors were forced to endure days if not weeks of pain. There were many patients in need and too few skilled priests up to the task. Of the seven that took residence within the capital, only three were immediately available. The other four were away, departed for missionary work in other lands.


    As even the weakest soldier was at least level 300, none of them were wounded by the collapse, but some of the fresh squires, who lacked the skill required to determine the curse¡¯s true source, were put under the impression that the Kryddarians were truly capable of the devastating, long-ranged attack. One was so terrified by the false assumption that he resigned, fled the country, and returned to his people¡¯s motherland, so that he could live a simpler life without fear of retribution.


    With so many soldiers knowing the truth, it appeared as if the duke¡¯s plan was sure to fail. It was a fragile scheme that revolved almost entirely around a campaign of misinformation. It could easily have been turned on its head. But it wasn¡¯t. Everything went exactly as he had planned. Not a single man spoke, not because they feared Virillius, but because they respected him. They too believed that Vella¡¯s chosen champion would bring them only victory.


    That was why they had marched with him, and why the man in question was not present at the manor.


    Cadria was at war, both with Kryddar, and the neighbour that was its closest ally.


    War was the last thing the grand magus had wanted, but she continued to obey the duke nonetheless. Seasoned as she was, the three-hundred-year-old witch knew that it was the best choice, the only way to ascertain a better future for generations to come. The only way to ensure that Cadria¡¯s enemies would be unable to bring about its collapse.


    Dismissing the depressing thought, Allegra adjusted her hat once more and opened the dressing room¡¯s door. Within it, she found a pair of ladies, both fully decorated in their evening attire. One of the two, Lady Beatrice Gallia, was standing behind a chair, working her hands in front of a large vertical mirror. Carefully, she braided the silver-blue stands running through her fingers and arranged them in a neat pattern befitting the daughter of one of Cadria¡¯s most influential men.


    Claire sat perfectly still and allowed the stylist to do as she pleased. It was rare for her not to resist. On most days she would run away and refuse to sit through the process, but she knew the importance of the upcoming function. Its purpose was to demonstrate that she had recovered; she was to serve as a symbol of Cadria¡¯s mettle.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Claire, Beatrice,¡± said the cottontail.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Professor,¡± said the maid. ¡°She should be ready in a minute.¡±


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    Claire didn¡¯t say anything, but replied to the greeting with a small, subtle nod. Her face was just as emotionless as ever, empty as a blank slate.


    ¡°Just one last thing now.¡± She finished the final braid before grabbing a pair of golden ornaments and placing them directly atop the other lady¡¯s disproportionate ears. ¡°And we¡¯re done.¡± Beatrice smiled softly, stepped away from the chair, and waited for Claire to rise. ¡°What do you think, my lady?¡±


    The halfbreed looked herself over in the mirror, touched her braided updo to check it for stability, and nodded again. It was the same style as always, arranged by the exact same person. There was no reason to be dissatisfied.


    Smiling briefly at her hairdresser, Claire lifted the hem of her long, flowing gown, walked to Allegra¡¯s side, and gestured at the doorway.


    The cottontail adjusted her hat. ¡°Let¡¯s be off. We wouldn¡¯t want to keep the guests waiting.¡± Straightening her ears and back, the witch opened the door and waited for both ladies to exit before closing it behind her.


    Together, the thorae, the cottontail, and the halfbreed navigated through the manor¡¯s magically repaired halls and made for the venue, the venue where they would greet the hundreds of guests that awaited the lady of House Augustus.


    ___


    Far away from the Cadrian capital, in the neighbouring land of Kryddar, Natalya Vernelle placed a hand on her sword as she looked over a rocky cliff. Her slit eyes were cast on the confident enemy force marching through the cliffside valley below. Of the roughly one hundred mismatched men and women that lined its ranks, half were of centaurian descent, and as such the lines varied drastically in size. The moose centaurs were twice as tall as their donkey and deer-like counterparts, who were in turn several heads above the cottontail and thoraen troops. Their formation was based not in form, but function; soldiers of completely different heights were placed shoulder to shoulder as if it were the norm.


    Had the Duke of Death not stood at the unit¡¯s forefront, Natalya would have assumed the army a hodgepodge arrangement of soldiers, with many of their number recruited at the last minute just to inflate their ranks. Even with the distinct, oversized cervitaur present, she was tempted to write off the group as an insignificant threat. There weren¡¯t enough of them to put up a fight against the fifty thousand troops gathered in the surrounding mountains. She was confident that, one by one, they would be worn down and slain.


    The higher ups were much less assured of their victory. Having guarded the command tent the previous night, the young and foolhardy Ms. Vernelle was well aware that most of the generals were cowards. More than half of them had wanted to call off the attack, but the top brass had deemed it necessary to risk the troops on an all out offense. They claimed that Meerfog Gorge was one of the only two places they could mount a defense capable of stopping the Cadrian advance.


    Knowing of the generals¡¯ fears had led Natalya to expect a vast army with numbers perhaps double their own. She had been incredibly excited for her maiden voyage, for the chance to prove herself more powerful than any Cadrian warrior, so she was disappointed to find the enemy unit to be only a hundred strong. The years she had put into training, into becoming a level 500 blademaster, would culminate in nothing but a tiny skirmish. She was confident that there would be a few hundred casualties at most, even if the Duke of Death was truly the aspect the rumours described. She and everyone else knew that he was Vella¡¯s chosen, but that was no guarantee of his might. It had been over twenty years since he fought his last real war; everything known of his strength may very well have been overblown.


    The joint Kryddar-Paunse force had nearly a dozen individuals approaching level 1000. Case in point was Natalya¡¯s elder twin sister, her pride and joy and the woman in charge of her squad. Alina was level 984. She needed only another sixteen milestones to become an aspect in her own right, and she was only the army¡¯s second best fighter.


    ¡°Are you scared?¡± With a twitch of her large feline ears, Alina spun around to meet her sister¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°Not at all.¡± Natalya smiled confidently as she placed a hand on the hilt of her blade. ¡°I know we¡¯ll win.¡±


    Alina¡¯s smile faltered briefly as she returned her eyes to the enemy lines. ¡°Yes, we will.¡±


    Natalya opened her mouth to speak again, but she was cut off by the sound of a horn. The deep bellow rang through the mountains and signalled the troops to spring the trap. The air about Alina changed. Her eyes sharpened and her smile flattened as her tail rose straight into the air.


    A tsunami of troops descended upon the duke and his men, but the Vernelle unit was not among them. Like most other elites, they stayed hidden and awaited their turn. They were meant to be a part of the fourth of five waves, as was decided by central command.


    The many veterans in Alina¡¯s unit thought the outcome unlucky and the strategy ridiculous. They saw no purpose in attacking in waves. Taking turns meant nothing but giving up an opportunity for glory, to wait as their competitors snatched it from right under their noses. A belief that held only until first contact was made.


    Duke Augustus did not order his troops to stop or react. They continued to march, leisurely, as catgirls, cat-siths, and moths descended upon them in droves. Not a single soldier flinched, even as they were bombarded with a wall of arrows and a hail of spells. It looked as if they simply wished not to acknowledge their demise, to proceed with pride until they were taken and forced to accept death¡¯s kiss.


    But it was not a bluff, nor a final attempt to keep up appearances.


    The silvery-white cervitaur that was the force¡¯s commander raised a hand in front of him and clenched it into a fist. That was all he needed to do, the only action he needed to take to command the crimson tide.


    Every single enemy soldier within a thousand paces of him erupted into a fountain of red. Their bodies were squeezed dry, drained of vital fluid, and turned to empty husks. Even the vampire corps was wiped out in an instant. Despite their innate mastery of hemomancy and their iron grip on their own blood.


    The cardinal current was formed into a veil; Virilius crafted a powerful barrier that warded off all the incoming projectiles without so much as the slightest hint of difficulty.


    Natalya gasped in horror. The troops began to falter as they bore witness to the massacre. As much as she didn¡¯t want to believe it, the catgirl was made to realise that everything she heard was true. Virillius Augustus was every bit the freak of nature that he was so often described. In just one attack, he had caused the army¡¯s morale to crumble.


    Some of the joint forces began to reel back, but they were not allowed to escape. The bloody currents swirled around the battlefield and consumed all, near or far. It took no more than five minutes for the infamous Cadrian to exterminate the first wave of assailants. The battle was over. The war was over. By his hand, it was already decided. Natalya gulped and awaited the sound of a drum, the signal to retreat, but what she heard instead was another horn. Another order, for another wave of troops to march.


    It was then that she finally came to understand why the army had been divided into five smaller parts. It was to seek victory through attrition. High command had judged that the best way to defeat Virilius was to deplete his mana. The first few waves of troops were fodder. They existed only to lay down their lives, so that the path to victory could be paved with their corpses.


    It was a disgusting scheme, but an effective one. Or at least that was what she wanted to believe. The possibility of losing, even with so much blood paid, was one she refused to entertain. But the distinctive white moose appeared nigh unstoppable.


    Both waves two and three were dispatched in a similar fashion. Natalya couldn¡¯t help but shake in her boots when the horn was blown a fourth time. A grim look on her face, she looked towards Alina, who raised her blade and led the charge. Natalya followed her sister¡¯s lead, but with much less vigour. She didn¡¯t think that victory was within their grasp. Not anymore.


    Fear stopped her from advancing as quickly as the others, but she couldn¡¯t abandon her sister. With that earnest thought, she charged on all fours, sword in mouth and tail held high.


    For once, he didn¡¯t immediately cast a large-scale spell. It appeared that the brass¡¯ strategy had worked, that he had finally run out of mana. The thought spurred a burst of acceleration. Before long, she got close enough to see the pores of his skin, the lack of sweat on his brow, and the blank stare that sat atop his face.


    It was like he didn¡¯t care that he was being attacked, like he didn¡¯t care that he was being starved of mana, and like he didn¡¯t care for the lives of those he reaped. Looking him in the cold, dead eyes brought nothing but terror.


    Her steps began to falter. She couldn¡¯t push forward. Falling to her knees, she could only watch and pray as Alina engaged him in combat.


    Her sister was a master duelist. She was specialised in close quarters, and she was far better at single combat than just about everyone else in the army. Her instructor, one of the men in command of the operation, was the only one she couldn¡¯t consistently best, and even then, the score was roughly even, barely skewed in the colonel¡¯s favour.


    There was no way a mage could possibly deal with her, once she got within range. That was the assumption Natalya made. But she had failed to consider one thing. Virillius wasn¡¯t a mage. He was a battlemage, a type of caster specialised in the use of weaponry.


    It took only a single exchange for the winner to be decided. Three quick slashes; Virilius only swung his spear once and his shieldlance twice.


    But that was all it took.


    The first blow sent Alina¡¯s sword flying. It flew through the air and landed a few feet away from Natalya, its blade embedded deep in the ground.


    The second attack skewered the retreating catgirl through the chest.


    And the third removed her head.


    Natalya couldn¡¯t believe it.


    She trembled uncontrollably as her eyes shifted between her sister¡¯s head and the man¡¯s blank stare.


    He had thought nothing of killing her.


    He had thought nothing of killing the second best warrior in all of Paunse.


    She wanted to cry, to grieve the loss of her beloved elder sister, but she was unable. The only thing that filled her mind was terror. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she grabbed Alina¡¯s blade, turned tail, and ran. She didn¡¯t care if she would be tried for treason or branded a coward. Her life would be forfeit if she was unable to escape the monster that served as Cadria¡¯s sword.


    The battle of Meerfog Gorge was unwinnable.


    Fleeing and seeking refuge was the only way to survive.

 Chapter 141 - A Day in Vel’khan

    Chapter 141 - A Day in Vel¡¯khan


    The former lady of House Augustus stifled a yawn as she rose from a bed of straw. Looking around, she confirmed that everything was exactly as she had left it the previous night. Alfred¡¯s top secret box was stashed in one of the room¡¯s far corners, her weaponry was still stuffed in her half-closed walk-in closet, and her dreary bedroom was no less dull or depressing than usual. She had fallen asleep inside an abandoned fortress, the very same one she had used since her first night in Vel¡¯khan.


    Made of large stone bricks and hardened mortar, the miniature castle was about two hours¡¯ ride from Vel¡¯rulm, a small landlocked city located near the country¡¯s western border. Her new home¡¯s location proved less than convenient, but it was the only piece of real estate that she was able to acquire. Purchasing property within the city was impossible with her almost nonexistent funds, and she doubted that any of the nearby villages would have been willing to host her. Like most other Ryllians, Vel¡¯khan¡¯s locals were known for their generosity and overall welcoming attitude, but Claire was neither an elf, a crustacean, nor a creature of the sea. It was almost a given that, as an obvious foreigner, she would be regarded with at least some degree of suspicion.


    Her self awareness was what had led the lyrkress to look for an alternative. A few options had come to mind, but in the end, she chose to acquire an older piece of property from a group of local outlaws, all of whom had been happy to part ways with not only the building, but also their lives. The most powerful among them was a measly level 150. It took the battlemage not even two minutes to wipe them all out and commandeer their residence.


    As none of its previous owners had cared much for its maintenance, the property was not in the most pristine of states. Its roof was so leaky that Claire could see the sun peeking through its cracks, and the walls were hardly any better off. Some of its holes were big enough to qualify as windows, or even doors in the worst of cases. Fortunately, the frostblight lyrkress was impervious to the almost nightly storms. She cared little for changes in temperature or moisture, and any raindrops that fell on her would slide right off her skin, scales, and hair. Her roommate was not as fortunate. The fox had to spend her nights in a magical bubble if she wished not to be disturbed.


    Looking around the shared room, Claire found the aforementioned vixen at the foot of her bed. Sylvia was curled up into a ball, sleeping soundly with her head resting atop her almost excessively fluffy tail.


    The lyrkress scratched one of her companion¡¯s ears, heavily enough for her to purr in her sleep, but lightly enough not to wake her. Only with her need for fluff satiated did she stretch out her back, get to her feet, and channel her magic through her nightgown. The enchanted item was quickly transformed from a thin silken dress into a casual blouse with a simple design featuring only whites and blacks. She would have preferred something with more colour, but she didn¡¯t think it a good idea. Standing out would only draw attention, and her more-than-evident beauty was already doing far too much of that.


    Yawning again, Claire silently crept out of the bedroom and walked down the stairs. The band of thieves she murdered had a fair number of supplies at the ready, but most were beyond the half-cervitaur¡¯s means. Essencethief had consumed her less-than-impressive cooking skill upon its evolution, and she had no idea how she was meant to prepare any of the local ingredients in the first place. That was why breakfast would have to be summoned, not cooked.


    Kicking a sack of vegetables aside with her centaurian hooves, she sat down at the table, opened Llystletein Authority¡¯s menu, and summoned a pair of monopus steaks.


    Though she was well rested, her eyes remained groggy and she nearly fell asleep in her seat. In Llystletein, her nights were filled with vibrant lucid dreams, but she had only one such experience since her departure, and the ghost had not been involved. The phantom that haunted her nocturnal hallucinations was back to being as sporadic as he had been before she was driven from Augustus Manor.


    A very sleepy fox descended the staircase as the dishes in Claire¡¯s hands phased into reality. Led by her nose, Sylvia stumbled over to the table, climbed on top of it, and laid her face down atop the wooden surface.


    ¡°Morning, Claire,¡± mumbled the pet.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± replied her owner.


    Sylvia started by slowing chewing on her steak, but her energy levels rose rapidly as her stomach began to fill. It didn¡¯t take her very long to go from taking the occasional tiny bite to wolfing down her breakfast at top speed.


    ¡°What are we gonna do today?¡± she asked, as she finished the first of the five entr¨¦es on her skewer.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Claire. ¡°Maybe explore another dungeon?¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t we get them all already? I thought the one we knocked out yesterday was the last one. I mean, I guess the map we found was kinda janky but I didn¡¯t happen to spot any others while we were wandering around.¡±


    Unlike the band of thieves, who had to periodically rob passing caravans for their supplies, the half-bred pair was unbothered by the state of their provisions. They had as much food and water as they did magical energy, and the vixen had a near infinite supply. Clothing was also a moot concern. Claire had her magical, self-mending cloak, and Sylvia was literally a fox. She had only a few articles hidden inside her tail, for when she took her other forms, but they were equipped with such infrequency that neither her elven tunic nor her tiny fae dress showed any signs of wear.


    The state of their finances was equally as irrelevant. They did have a bit of spare change lying around, thanks to the corpses piled outside the fort, but it wasn¡¯t by any means a significant amount. And because they cared so little for all the things that made the world go round, the pair was able to invest all their time into their newest hobby, adventuring.


    Claire had always wanted to try living the adventurer life, courtesy of all the ideas put into her head by the bards, playwrights, and recruits that came to the manor, and her time in Llystletein had failed to dissuade her in any which way. Likewise, Sylvia found herself entertained by the prospect of following in her father¡¯s footsteps. She had been disinterested when he first told her of his travels, but hearing the moose-snake¡¯s accounts had inspired her to share in the experience first hand.


    The dungeons around Vel¡¯rulm were not particularly impressive, with all of them consisting of only tiny domains populated by the weakest of monsters. Nearly everything they found was a goblin or a variant thereof. Each of the scrawny, green-skinned pests was about as strong as a four year old child, and less than half as smart. A farmhand could have easily cleared out an entire population with nothing but a wooden stick.


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    While the local greenskins were less than thrilled by their presence, both halfbreeds thoroughly enjoyed the leisurely experience. It was akin to taking a walk through a park, delightful precisely because it was so laid back and low effort.


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to go ask where the others are,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°You mean we have to go back to the city? Ugh¡­ I hated dealing with the guards! Those guys were jerks!¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll punch them harder next time.¡±


    ¡°Stop! No! Bad Claire! We¡¯ll get in trouble again!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. They¡¯ll forget. If I hit them hard enough.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make it okay!¡±


    ¡°Yes it does,¡± said the lyrkress, with a dark smirk.


    ¡°No it doesn¡¯t! And don¡¯t smile like that! It gives me the creeps!¡±


    ¡°Too bad.¡±


    The pair had already paid Vel¡¯rulm a visit, the first day after they left Llystletein, but they were denied entrance. The guards, a pair of kelpfin warriors, had rejected them immediately upon first contact. Claire had been deemed suspicious because she refused to peel back her hood when asked, and Sylvia was chased away for the heinous crime of being a fox. Apparently, her ability to speak hadn¡¯t clued the musclebrained sentries in on the fact that she wasn¡¯t just a wild animal, as her appearance may have otherwise suggested. I bet one of them was named Marc.


    ¡°Oh, yeah, that reminds me!¡± said Sylvia, after another disproportionate bite. She spoke with her mouth full and her face still glued to her plate.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Why haven¡¯t you ascended yet? Didn¡¯t Al give you a whole 250 levels?¡±


    Claire set down her utensils, creased her brow, and frowned. She didn¡¯t speak until she made up her mind, a few moments later. ¡°Flux told me not to.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean? And isn¡¯t that the opposite of what she told you to do last time?¡±


    ¡°I exceeded her expectations.¡± A small smile crept onto the lyrkress¡¯ face. ¡°She told me to wait three weeks. Two now.¡±


    ¡°Huh¡­ that¡¯s really weird,¡± said the fox. She polished off her meal with one last bite before lying down with her face resting on her paws.


    ¡°I was also told to avoid Kael¡¯ahruus¡¯ temples."


    ¡°I guess that must mean that the goddess of the flow and the god of the hunt got into a fight.¡±


    The former blueblood shrugged. ¡°Not my business.¡±


    She glanced at a particular entry in her quest menu as she returned to her less-than-wonderful breakfast.


    A Test of Patience


    Primary Objectives:


    - Do not ascend or distribute any levels granted by Alfred Llarse until another 301 hours have elapsed.


    Rewards:


    - 500 ability score points


    - Additional options for ascension will be unlocked


    It was her first divine quest. Even with the goddess¡¯ demand serving as a constant reminder, Claire was itching to open the floodgates. The potential benefits did little to hamper her temptations. Five hundred ability points was nothing next to the 3000 she already had lying around, and the other reward was too vague. It would have helped if she was told what her options would be, but the goddess had refused to answer on account of keeping it a surprise.


    Stupid Box.


    Cursing the divine internally, she cut another slice off her steak and shook her head free of her impending growth. It couldn¡¯t tempt her if she didn¡¯t think about it. Or if a silly pet fox didn¡¯t suddenly decide to bring it up for no reason, the day after she finally managed to forget.


    Her brow twitching, she reached across the table and grabbed the woodland creature in question by the cheeks. ¡°This is all your fault.¡±


    ¡°H-huh?¡± Sylvia tried to push Claire¡¯s hands aside, but she was met with firm resistance. ¡°Why did you suddenly get mad!?¡±


    ¡°Figure it out.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t!¡± said the flailing fox. ¡°At least give me a hint!¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire. She put the cat-brained dog back on the table and lightly pinched her nose. ¡°And I¡¯m not mad.¡±


    ¡°Yes you are! You just pinched my cheeks for no reason! You only do that when you¡¯re mad!¡±


    ¡°There was a reason. I felt like it.¡± The rogue scratched the underside of the critter¡¯s chin with one hand and ate one last slice of steak with the other. She set her fork down shortly after and pushed the plate towards her companion. ¡°You can have the rest.¡±


    ¡°Really? Thanks!¡±


    Sylvia dug in right away and ate the other three pieces on the plated skewer in an instant. Claire magically lifted the plates off the table once she finished and flung them into one of the room¡¯s far walls. Being made of a less-than-durable material, the dishes shattered to bits as soon as they hit the bare stone and joined their precursors and predecessors atop an ever growing pile of broken ceramic, a feature that had, for one mysterious reason or another, not existed prior to the lyrkress¡¯ arrival.


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ you know, that was okay back in Llystletein because the dungeon cleaned up after us, but I don¡¯t really know if it¡¯s as good an idea anymore,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault. We get new plates every time I summon food.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you have to break them!¡±


    ¡°They¡¯d take up too much space if I didn¡¯t,¡± said Claire, as she averted her gaze.


    The problem, of course, could have been easily remedied by Shoulderhorse, but Claire couldn¡¯t be bothered to summon the malformed spirit. Its ability to consume just about anything certainly came with a dire cost. She would be forced to taste whatever the phantom consumed, and she doubted that a pile of moldy, broken plates would please her palate.


    ¡°We¡¯re gonna need to do something about it sooner or later, or this place is gonna be unlivable,¡± complained the fox.


    ¡°We can hire a maid,¡± suggested Claire. ¡°Maids are good at making problems go away.¡±


    ¡°How the heck are we supposed to get a maid out in the middle of nowhere!?¡±


    ¡°We can hire one in town. Maybe at one of the taverns,¡± said Claire, matter-of-factly. Frankly, she had no idea if it would work, but the bards had always said that the tavern was the best place to go, if one was ever in need of a helping hand.


    ¡°I uhm¡­ really don¡¯t know if we can actually afford one. Didn¡¯t you say we didn¡¯t have a lot of money?¡±


    ¡°Then we can rent one for a few days.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but think about where we live! How are we supposed to convince her to make the trip if we¡¯re not even hiring her for real?¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°You can teleport her in. Obviously.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m not allowed to help yo¡ª¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not in Llystletein anymore.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah!¡± Sylvia¡¯s ears perked up. ¡°I forgot.¡±


    ¡°I know. You¡¯re bad at thinking.¡±


    ¡°Hey! You didn¡¯t have to put it like that! It¡¯s not my fault I keep forgetting!¡±


    ¡°If that isn¡¯t your fault, then I don¡¯t know what is.¡± Claire retracted the icy spike sticking out of her chest, swooped the critter up in her arms, and lazily navigated her way through the oversized house.


    ¡°Oh, shush.¡± The fox puffed up her cheeks and pouted. ¡°You¡¯d totally forget too, if you spent your whole life as a Llystletein fox!¡±


    ¡°No I wouldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re only saying that because you know I can¡¯t prove it,¡± grumbled Sylvia.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± said Claire, with a smile.


    Giving the fox a bit of a squeeze, she stepped out of the abandoned fort and made for Vel¡¯rulm. To find a maid that would meet the Cadrian standard.

 Chapter 142 - A Day in Vel’khan II

    Chapter 142 - A Day in Vel¡¯khan II


    Tal¡¯ihir was a massive rainforest, a boundless woodland spanning a third of the continent. But because it housed so many inhabitants, its tree coverage was far from uniform. There were many paths carved into the forest, and whole cities as well. Not all of the jungle¡¯s beneficiaries cared for its retention or conservation, with many races developing architectural styles completely at odds with their native woodlands. The halflings were a prime example. They dug their single-story houses into the undergrowth, regardless of how many roots they destroyed. To them, short-term privacy was of a far greater importance than the maintenance of the vegetation that upheld it.


    The well-trodden path that Claire and Sylvia followed came with arguably less destruction. It was crafted by kelpfins, semi-aquatic shark people with no trouble spending entire lifetimes above the surface. Being among the tallest of the fish folk, the paths they made had little in the way of looming branches. Everything that approached the highway was reduced to lumber, such that pedestrians and other travelers would not have to be concerned with evading stray branches. They had bulldozed their way through the rainforest with such efficiency that their roads were clear, even from high up in the sky.


    So well maintained was the highway that they expected it to see frequent use, but the only groups that traversed it were heavily guarded convoys. Many of the knights, mercenaries, and adventurers shot looks in the pair¡¯s direction as they passed them by, but not all were wary or hostile. Some of the self-proclaimed good samaritans had appeared concerned, and one particularly nosy group, led by an old elf, had even tried to call out to them, but Claire had silenced him with a cold, paralyzing glare before he could relay his message.


    Each fleet of wagons came with its own beasts of burden. Some had horses, some had large cats, and some even deigned to power their carriages with other people, but the most common was undoubtedly the turberi, the work turtles employed in most parts of the world. While Sylvia was caught off guard by the three-headed reptiles, Claire found them an ordinary, everyday sight; even Cadria saw them as the standard pack animal of choice. The semi-aquatic shell bearers were quiet, quick on their feet, and durable. They were also incredibly strong for their size. Even a young turberus could pull five times the weight of the average adult centaur. And yet, the farm animals remained perfectly docile. Only those with extreme temperaments, such as survivors of long-term abuse, would ever attack; most of them would instead withdraw into their shells when threatened, an instinct bred into them through thousands of years of domestication.


    The gentle draught animals suffered from only a few minor weaknesses, the most often cited of which was that they made for poor mounts. They stood at only half a meter tall, and their shells were arched at an uncomfortably steep angle. Smaller riders could learn to straddle them with enough time and practice , but most believed it wasn¡¯t worth the effort. Another common complaint was their lack of stamina. They could sustain a respectable speed for only a few hours at a time, after which they would inevitably need to sleep or graze. Most drivers got around the problem by exploiting the convenience factor that was their small stature. The dog-sized reptiles were light enough to lift, and most travelers would bring two to three times the number needed to pull their carriages. One group would be deployed, while the others were allowed to board and rest until it was their turn.


    Vel¡¯rulm didn¡¯t appear on the horizon until the sun was directly overhead. The halfbreeds very well could have reached their destination in an instant, had Sylvia worked her magic, but they had decided to go about their lives without the almost extraneous convenience. There was no rush, no reason to skip the journey whilst they still appreciated the fresh sights. Even though there wasn¡¯t always something to see. When they did eventually get bored, they passed the time by chasing each other down the highway, with each abusing her magic as best as she could. Sylvia would twist the roads with her spellsongs and completely befuddle her pet moose, while Claire would call various objects to her aid and ensnare the magical catdog in a series of overengineered fox traps.


    Like most notabe settlements, the city was a castle town, built around a large fortress governed by a local aristocrat. Claire couldn¡¯t quite recall the intricacies of Vel¡¯khanese culture, but in Cadria, it was not uncommon for the aforementioned governor to be a merchant, craftsman, or philosopher. Anyone with enough wealth would be allowed to possess a domain in their name, so long as they were willing to abide by the government¡¯s regulations.


    Vel¡¯rulm was certainly on the smaller side, but it bore a close resemblance to many a merchant-run Cadrian city regardless. Its castle was the biggest giveaway, with the structure constructed for show and not defense. The poorly planned stone fortress lacked the battlements, moats, and towers that she was used to seeing. It was made instead of large columns with enough space between them for troops to pass through, and no clear way to close off all the entrances. The entablature that sat atop the pillars was large and heavy, a surefire sign that it was weak to destruction by catapult.


    The city¡¯s outermost defenses were also lackluster. It was surrounded not by walls, but rather thick wooden pillars with hefty chains running between them. Claire suspected that the poor defenses were derived from circumstance. Wolves aside, the creatures living in the surrounding area were almost entirely harmless. Goblins were the worst she found.


    ¡°I think we should pick another gate this time,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°And change how we look,¡± agreed Claire.


    The entrance they had attempted to use during their first visit was located on the city¡¯s west side. It lay at the end of the path they had followed and was closest to the abandoned building they later made their home. As far as Claire could tell, it was only one of the four gates available. The dense rainforest prevented her from making out any of the other paths with her eyes, but she could hear the rattling of carriages coming from a trio of different directions.


    ¡°Actually¡­ do you think the guards would notice if we just got in a bubble?¡± asked Sylvia. She raised her paws overhead and moved them in a large circular arc.


    The lyrkress placed a hand on her chin and paused briefly before shaking her head. ¡°Most likely not.¡±


    Some cities had magical barriers that would alert their protectors to any unwanted intruders, but Vel¡¯rulm was clearly not one of them. It simply wasn¡¯t of the right size or scale to afford such an expensive piece of technology.


    ¡°Wait! Then why didn¡¯t we just sneak in last time!?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Because I punched the guard. They must¡¯ve been looking for us in town. They might still be.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ right. Then I guess I should probably do something about how fuzzy I am.¡±


    There was a flash of white light as the vixen turned into a fairy and donned her fae dress. The tiny foxgirl flew right up to Claire¡¯s head and hid in her hair, as she often did when they were in public.


    After stepping into the rainforest and checking for any potential observers, the lyrkress mirrored her companion¡¯s actions and went through a drastic change of her own. Her body shrank to two thirds its previous height as her half-equine, half-serpentine lower half was replaced with a pair of humanoid legs. Her blouse and cloak were adjusted accordingly. Though her insistence on remaining incognito had gotten her in trouble during her last visit, she kept her hood pulled over her head. The tiny risk of recognition was not one she wished to run.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°Uhm¡­ Claire?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Can you do something about your ears?¡± Sylvia grabbed one of the fluffy appendages and lifted it above the other girl¡¯s head. ¡°They kinda make it really obvious that you¡¯re the same person.¡±


    ¡°No. They¡¯re pretty.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on! At least hide them! And your true ice shard! That thing¡¯s a dead giveaway!¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s also pretty.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter how pretty it is if it gets us caught!¡± shouted the half-elf, as she lightly tapped one of her feet against the top of her mount¡¯s head.


    ¡°Then get rid of your tail.¡±


    "No way! I love my tail!¡± The fairy pouted as she started fiddling with her hair. The long, messy strands shared the same colours as her vulpine form. It was mostly made of orange, with shades of black and white at the roots and ends.


    ¡°Exactly. Now leave my ears and my shard alone,¡± said the lyrkress.


    Sylvia breathed a sigh. ¡°Ugh¡­ fine! But it¡¯s your fault if we get caught!¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°How can you be so sure?¡±


    ¡°I hit them hard enough for them to forget me.¡± Claire flashed a smug grin as she put her hands on her hips and puffed up her pitifully flat chest.


    ¡°If that was how that worked, then we never would¡¯ve had to run away in the first place!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± She navigated the forest with her ears as she spoke. The road wasn¡¯t exactly close, but the distant rattling of wagons was distinct enough for her to trace its source with ease.


    ¡°Wait! What happened to using the bubble!?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°I want to go through the gate. It seems more fun.¡± Claire said, as she waded through the undergrowth. ¡°We can use the bubble if this doesn¡¯t work.¡±


    ¡°I swear, Claire! What the heck! You¡¯re gonna get us caught!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    The lyrkress stuck her head out from behind a tree as she arrived at the next highway over. Even without looking, she could tell that it was far more populated. While the other path had only larger groups accompanied by armed guards, the freshly discovered trail was bustling with almost neither. Most of the passersby were unarmed pedestrians, walking either by themselves or with a small group of companions. Some were carrying goods, but the majority were empty handed. They reminded Claire of the students and workers she often saw in Valencia, commuting to and from their regular destinations.


    ¡°Woah¡­ that¡¯s a lot of people!¡± shouted Sylvia, in a whisper. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I already see more than there were in Darkwood Hollow!¡±


    ¡°Those weren¡¯t people. They were foxes.¡±


    ¡°Foxes are people too!¡±


    ¡°Foxes are foxes. People are people.¡±


    ¡°Rude!¡±


    Though they got a few strange looks, the pair was able to join the procession without any difficulty.


    ¡°You think the guards are going to be jerks again?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°I doubt it,¡± said Claire. ¡°They look too busy to harass us.¡±


    It was fairly difficult for the halfbreed to see the gate with all the people and turberi-drawn carriages in the way, but it didn¡¯t look like the sentries were performing detailed inspections. They only stopped one in every few dozen travelers, and rarely ever hassled them for more than a few seconds. Listening in on their conversations, the half-moose quickly formulated a plan of action and a number of relatively consistent half lies, just in case they decided to annoy her.


    ¡°Pretend you don¡¯t exist if they talk to us,¡± she said, to the person most likely to mess up her plans.


    ¡°That sounds like too much work. I¡¯m just gonna take a nap,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°All this traveling is tiring me out.¡±


    ¡°You barely walked. I carried you whenever we weren¡¯t messing around.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush! I¡¯m a fox, and foxes are supposed to nap a lot!¡± cried the indignant vixen. ¡°Wake me up when we go looking for maids!¡±


    Acknowledging the request with a silent nod, Claire put her poker face on and approached the gates.


    To her dismay, she immediately spotted a familiar guard with a swollen jaw. She would have been in for a world of trouble if he recognized her, but evidently, she had successfully deprived him of his memory. He admitted her with a nonchalant, wordless glance, the same thing he had done for just about everyone else in line in front of her.


    Claire found herself staring down a bustling street as she stepped through the gate and into the settlement. She had seen it from outside the chain-linked barrier, but being a part of the scene made for a whole new experience. She started paying more attention to the people around her, to the various Ryllian species that made up the busy city.


    Despite its lackluster size, Vel¡¯rulm¡¯s population density was high enough for her to think it some sort of major hub. There were man-sized crabs buying items from tiny stalls on the side of the road, sentient jellyfish hovering through the air, and eels with human-like limbs sprinting through the streets. There were even a few grugs out and about; many of the cat-eared frogs were manning the city¡¯s various shops.


    The absurdly dense population was second only to the amount of signage. Anywhere from ten to one hundred wooden boards could be seen on every single building. Most of the markings, she understood at a glance¡ªthe masks clearly denoted the theatre, the mortar and pestle the apothecary, and the anvil the smithy¡ªbut there were also those whose meanings were less apparent. She was unable to identify the shop marked with an array of hearts, nor could she interpret the sign sporting a goblin queen with an arrow stuck in its disproportionate posterior.


    Her mind was paralyzed by the sheer number of choices; she was so curious and overwhelmed that she forgot she was standing in the way of the people behind her. It wasn¡¯t until an impatient elf grunted a complaint that she realised she had been frozen in place.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± she said, as she kicked her feet back into motion.


    Unsure of where to go, she began walking down the main street and casually blending in with the crowd. There were options everywhere. The words dungeon and maid floated around in the back of her mind, but she couldn¡¯t find any taverns or pubs, at least not by looking at the signs. There weren¡¯t even any restaurants, as far as she could tell. The lack of indoor venues was one that stemmed from the difference between Cadrian and Vel¡¯khanese food culture. The maritime nation¡¯s food and drink vendors did most of their business outdoors. The aromatic spices they put in their goods served to advertise their shops. It was certainly an effective strategy. There were large crowds gathered around nearly every stall, their hungry stomachs attracted by the wonderful scents.


    Unlike the locals, Claire knew better than to fall for the vendors¡¯ tricks. She had been fooled by them before, when she snuck out of the manor and wandered Valencia¡¯s streets, and she had no intention of being fooled again. She knew that, despite the wonderful smell, their products had the tendency to be rather subpar. Their taste profiles were simple and rarely ever had enough flavour to do the raw ingredients justice.


    Still, she couldn¡¯t help but wonder if the local quality was any better than what was served back home. The Ryllian Sea was known for its chefs. Amereth, the manor¡¯s resident professional, had learned her culinary techniques from her motherland, and it was possible that Vel¡¯khanese standards would be higher, given the shark-faced cook¡¯s lack of confidence.


    Shaking her head clear of temptation, Claire continued walking around until she escaped the commercial district. The residential area was much less crowded. There were only a handful of people on each street, most of which appeared to be members of the upper class. They were dressed in high quality fabrics, and many even had guards either accompanying them or following from a distance.


    The security detail didn¡¯t exactly appreciate the presence of a suspicious hooded figure, but she ignored their stares and continued on her way, despite knowing that she was unlikely to find a tavern without first turning around.


    It wasn¡¯t until she reached the fortress located in the middle of the city that she finally stopped in her tracks and voiced a long overdue suspicion.


    ¡°I think I might be lost.¡±

 Chapter 143 - A Day in Vel’khan III

    Chapter 143 - A Day in Vel¡¯khan III


    Claire was unable to find any taverns until she did the unthinkable and asked a local for directions. Her pride was wounded, both by the need to make the request, and by the strange look that the bipedal turtle had given her, but at the very least, she was able to pinpoint her destination.


    According to the armoured reptile, there were a number of bars spread throughout the city, only two of which were worth noting. The Golden Mug, located in the southern district, was the location favoured by society¡¯s upper crust. Its drinks were handcrafted by a master brewer, and its chef was a highly skilled professional sourced directly from the Ryllian. But despite that, the testudine had recommended against visiting it. Its prices were too high for most, and entry required either a reputation or an extraneous amount of free time. His personal recommendation was The Sparkling Rat, a smaller establishment positioned near the western exit. It wasn¡¯t quite as polished as The Golden Mug, but its quality was high enough, and more importantly, the average Joe didn¡¯t have to spend hours waiting in line outside.


    The Mug seemed like a better place to make a recruitment drive, but Claire opted for the alternative. Anyone that named their restaurant after a rodent was either foolish or incredibly confident, and she was tempted to think that it was the latter, given the man¡¯s enthusiasm.


    Wandering westward confirmed that the city¡¯s layout was effectively symmetrical. All the houses were built around the castle in the center, while commerce took place in its outermost layer. It was the opposite of the standard Cadrian model, and in her mind at least, made very little sense. Business was more easily conducted in a large centralized market. According to her father, placing merchants by their rivals sparked competition and innovation.


    There was also the matter of efficiency in times of war. A destroyed residence could be replaced following an attack, and in fact, state-employed earth mages often did just that. A looted conglomerate, however, came at the cost of a large stock of goods, many of which may very well have been necessary for the war effort. There would be a great economic loss if even one larger corporation was brought to financial ruin, the taxes from which could have easily funded the post-war insurance policies that fueled rebuilding and restoration.


    Even with the tavern¡¯s location pointed out to her, Claire was unable to locate its entrance immediately. The sign was unclear, buried among a thousand others, and the atmosphere made it difficult for her to locate it with her ears. She never would have found it, had a drunkard not stumbled out its front door.


    Stepping inside, she discovered that the restaurant was a cramped location with room for only a few customers. There were about five tables spread throughout and another or so dozen seats at the bar. But for what it lacked in space, it made up for with smoke; there was so much ash in the air that she was reminded of an active volcano.


    The bartender, a bald, muscular grug too brawny for his shirt, shot her suspicious glance, but returned to serving the other customers without voicing his distrust. A few others also happened to look her way, but most were too preoccupied with their food and drink to pay the newcomer any attention. Not even the tavern¡¯s staff appeared interested in greeting her. The barmaids tending to the door turned away and avoided her gaze as she stepped inside.


    Though tempted to check if there was anything off putting about her appearance, Claire ignored the peanut gallery and walked to the counter. She confidently sat atop one of the few empty stools that remained and stared a hole into the back of the barkeep¡¯s head. A cold sweat began to dribble down the side of the man¡¯s face as he continued going about his business. She could tell that he was conscious of her attention, given how he kept gulping and glancing over his shoulder, but he refused to approach until there was nothing else left for him to do. He even used his eyes to plead with the other customers for more tasks, but none obliged.


    Eventually, he gave up, set down the cup he was polishing, and walked to the end of the counter. ¡°How can I help you?¡±


    Braugr¡¯s heartbeat was rapid and his breathing shallow, but he feigned composure. He had been a barkeeper for over three months, and it wasn¡¯t his first time dealing with a suspicious customer. The cat-eared frog was at least aware that his best choice was to stand firm. It was difficult, with the hooded figure¡¯s predatory, serpentine gaze kicking his self-preservation instinct into overdrive. But one way or another, he managed to keep his cool.


    ¡°I want information,¡± said the guest.


    The ascended grug felt the back of his throat dry out. It felt like she was going to eat him, if he refused.


    ¡°And don¡¯t worry. I don¡¯t enjoy the taste of frog.¡±


    He felt his face turn three shades paler as a bone-chilling breeze briefly washed over him. Though he couldn¡¯t make out any details, he could swear that he saw the glimmer of a lamian cheek scale poking out from beneath her hood.


    Gulping again, he took half a step back as he squeezed out a shaky response. ¡°W-we don¡¯t deal in that here. All we have is food and drink. Would you like a menu?¡±


    The frog-eater breathed a sigh. ¡°No. I want you to help me find a maid.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know any maids!¡± shouted the bartender. ¡°I-if you¡¯re not going to order, then please leave!¡±


    Claire pulled her hood over her eyes and leaned forward on the counter. ¡°You have the wrong idea. I want to hire a maid.¡±


    Only by interacting with the man did she realise why she was being avoided. The bartender was a frog, the waitresses were mice, and many of the patrons were lizardmen; nearly all of those present in the tavern were of races that feared snakes and their kin. It wouldn¡¯t at all have surprised her to discover that some of them had close friends or family that had been mistakenly married and subsequently consumed by lamian widows.


    ¡°T-then you¡¯re in the wrong place!¡± he stuttered. ¡°Go to the job board!¡±


    Claire tilted her head, not because she was unfamiliar with the concept, but because taverns were meant to be the answer to all worldly woes. It wasn¡¯t just the stories that appeared to support the theory. She knew for a fact that her father had met with many of his contacts in taverns, with a much younger half-moose in tow. ¡°Why?¡±


    For a moment, the -37% catgirl was utterly flabbergasted. His ears shot straight up as he brought a webbed hand to his face.


    ¡°Get out,¡± he mumbled. ¡°Leave or I¡¯ll call the guards.¡± He raised his other hand and pointed it at the exit. He was tired of dealing with her. She obviously wasn¡¯t a customer, and as far as he could tell, had only entered the bar to harass him and the other patrons.


    Claire was annoyed, but her hands were tied. She shot the man a full powered glare, got up, and waltzed out the door while he was still frozen in place.


    Ignoring the commotion that ensued, she walked down the street and sought another source of information. She knew nothing about any of the city¡¯s brokers, and evidently, the local tavern was not the miraculous meeting spot she had expected.


    ¡°So that didn¡¯t go so well, did it?¡± A voice came from within her hood, with its source peeking out shortly after.


    ¡°You were awake? Since when?¡±


    Sylvia wrapped her arms around her shoulders and feigned a shiver. ¡°Since you suddenly decided to make it really cold, duh! How the heck am I supposed to sleep if I¡¯m freezing to death!?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Be fluffier.¡± The lyrkress turned a random corner.


    ¡°I can¡¯t! I¡¯m already the fluffiest fox in all of Lly¡ª¡±


    A magical push clamped the tiny vixen¡¯s jaw shut and cut her off mid-sentence.


    ¡°Not so loud. We don¡¯t want to draw attention,¡± whispered Claire.


    ¡°Oh yeah! I forgot. Llystletein isn¡¯t like a super normal place out here is it?¡±


    ¡°Not at all.¡±


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    ¡°Right¡­ sorry¡± Sylvia smiled awkwardly and scratched the back of her head. ¡°So where are we going now anyway? Since the whole tavern thing didn¡¯t work out like you said it would.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Claire looked around the street before locking onto a building whose sign was made up of a set of familiar, rectangular shapes. ¡°Maybe here?¡±


    The shop she had stopped in front of was slightly smaller than most of the others around it, but looking through its glass window revealed an impressive selection of wares, all of which were unfortunately extremely susceptible to fire.


    ¡°Is that a library?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°It¡¯s a bookstore,¡± explained her mount.


    ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡±


    ¡°You have to buy the books. You can¡¯t just read them.¡¯


    ¡°Oh¡­ that kinda sucks, but I guess they probably have some stuff that Al doesn¡¯t, right? Let¡¯s check it out!¡±


    Nodding, Claire fired a quick glance at the pouch attached to her waist. She had collected a few bits and pieces of coinage from the bandits she had removed. Altogether, she had roughly a pound of silver and another three of copper. It was a pittance that left her feeling impoverished, only a tenth of what she was often given when allowed to head into town.


    In Cadria, silver needed to be forged into daggers before it could be used as legal tender, a pound of which produced exactly ten coins. One of her father¡¯s squires would receive two daggers a week, while a more experienced knight was given five at the least. Each could pay for about a month of living expenses, housing, leisure, and all. The copper coins, on the other hand, would be melted down and cast into tiny hilts. Hilts were the unit of currency that changed the most hands, and two could afford a cheap meal and a drink. Cadrian prices, of course, would not be identical to Vel¡¯khanese prices, but because they were all based in precious metals, it was rare for there to be too large a discrepancy between the various regions.


    Despite the sorry state of her finances, Claire strode into the bookstore without a hint of reluctance. She nodded at the owner, a mermaid sitting in an oversized wooden bucket, and got right to wandering the aisles.


    There was a tug on one of Claire¡¯s ears as the fairy hidden in her hood began to whisper. ¡°Did you see her scales? They were really pretty.¡±


    The pink plates that made up the mermaid¡¯s tail glistened beneath the sun, sparkling with a dozen different colours. They were certainly impressive, but too fishy to be admired.


    ¡°Mine are better,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Are they?¡± blinked the fairy.


    ¡°Blue is prettier than pink.¡±


    Sylvia hovered down to one of Claire¡¯s cheek scales and gave it a poke. ¡°I guess you have a point.¡±


    ¡°I know I do. Now be quiet for a moment. So I can find what we need.¡±


    The rogue¡¯s eyes narrowed as she cast them on the impressively low price tags. The encyclopedias were only five copper coins each, and based on what The Sparkling Rat¡¯s patrons were paying, each coin was worth roughly half a hilt. It took looking further down the aisle to finally find a few entries marked with silver. And even then, they were on the cheaper side, requiring only one or two pieces each. Are they reprints?


    Curious, she retrieved the thickest volume she could find, only to put it back down upon realising that it was titled Tentacle Erotica for the Wounded Heart. When she looked around, she found that most of the others were similar, bearing labels such as The Mightiest Sword, Two Snakes in a Pod, and Down and Dirty with Daisy.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire? Are you sure we¡¯re looking at the right books? Because this seems like the kinda stuff Al reads.¡±


    The lyrkress frowned. ¡°I know. But these are the most expensive ones. We might find what we need, if we look around enough.¡±


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ I dunno¡­¡± She crawled back into the moose-snake¡¯s hood. ¡°I guess you can give it a shot if you want, but I¡¯m going back to sleep.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Claire had her suspicions, but she continued to scan the various titles nonetheless. Every book was either a sultry romance with a number of extraneous details, or some sort of textbook, only some of which were lacking in the aforementioned characteristic.


    ¡°Alright, kid. That¡¯s enough. Get out of the adult section.¡± The mermaid crawled over to her and grabbed her by the shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s meant for widows and lonely, middle-aged housewives, not perverted brats like you.¡± Another hand grabbed her by the hood and tried to peel it back, but it got caught on her ears and wound up only half removed. The lyrkress¡¯ rider, however, was knocked loose by the sudden swaying. She fell forward and exposed her fluffy tail before darting back under cover.


    ¡°What the¡­¡± the shopkeeper blinked, ¡°Is that a fairy?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire. ¡°And I¡¯m not a child.¡± Pushing the hand away, the blueblood set down the only somewhat relevant book she had found so far, a collection of papers describing the details of bovine reproduction in dungeon-like environments, and turned around.


    ¡°Right¡­ Sorry, didn¡¯t mean anything by it. Brats love sneaking into the back, and most seven-year-old kelpfins are about your height. I guess I mistook you for one of them.¡±


    ¡°Well I¡¯m not.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but you still seem a bit young to be browsing this section.¡± The mermaid bent over and snuck a peak past the lyrkress¡¯ hood. ¡°Definitely a bit youn¡ªow!¡±


    Claire grabbed the nosy shopkeeper by the face and forcefully straightened her back. ¡°Stop trying to look at me.¡±


    ¡°I will, if you stop browsing the adult section,¡± grumbled the shopkeeper. ¡°Kids are a definite no go, but we don¡¯t sell to horny teenagers either.¡±


    ¡°Hey! That¡¯s rude!¡± said Sylvia as she climbed out of Claire¡¯s hair. ¡°We weren¡¯t even looking at any of the weird stuff!¡±


    ¡°So it was a fairy. I knew it,¡± said the mermaid, with a glint in her eye.


    ¡°Hi!¡± said Sylvia, with a wave.


    ¡°Hello,¡± replied the mermaid. ¡°This is the first time I¡¯ve ever seen one of you in person. You¡¯re really quite adorable.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s my first time seeing a mermaid,¡± said the foxgirl. ¡°Your scales are really pretty.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said the shopkeeper. ¡°I¡¯m flattered, but don¡¯t think that¡¯s enough to sweet talk me. I¡¯m still kicking you out. Now move, shoo. Come back when you¡¯re older.¡±


    With a twitch of the ears, the rogue pulled her hood lower and turned her head away. ¡°I was trying to find something with information about dungeons.¡±


    ¡°And you ended up in the adult section because?¡±


    ¡°I followed the price tags.¡± Claire pointed down the aisle she had walked down. ¡°The thicker ones are more expensive. I thought they would also have more information.¡±


    ¡°Well, they do have more pages¡­¡± The fish girl smiled awkwardly. ¡°But you¡¯re in the wrong part of the shop.¡±


    ¡°See! I told you!¡± said Sylvia, whose mouth was promptly pinched shut.


    With a smile, the clerk gestured with her fingers for the customers to follow as she hobbled down the aisle and crawled to one of the display shelves near the store¡¯s front. ¡°What exactly are you looking for?¡±


    ¡°A map. Something with dungeon locations marked in it.¡±


    ¡°Of course you¡¯d be some sort of adventurer with grip strength like that¡­¡± The mermaid muttered under her breath as she pressed her hands against the sides of her skull. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure, but it felt like the bone had suffered a dent.


    ¡°I heard that.¡±


    ¡°Great. A violent adventurer whose ears aren¡¯t just for show. My favourite type of customer.¡±


    She pulled a pair of thick-rimmed spectacles out from within her robes and placed them over her ears as she began browsing through her merchandise.


    ¡°This is probably what you were looking for.¡± The clerk presented a thin scroll, tied with a tiny silken ribbon. Opening it, she revealed a diagram of the surrounding area, with various landmarks and threats highlighted in all sorts of different colours. ¡°It¡¯s a pretty detailed map, made by a scyph. It doesn¡¯t have every dungeon, but it¡¯s got most of the ones that matter.¡±


    ¡°Wow! That looks really nice. Is it new enough to be up to date?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°It was drawn just last year, so it should be.¡± The clerk rolled the scroll back up and walked over to the counter. ¡°That¡¯ll be two silver and a copper. Anything else?¡±


    Claire frowned as she posed the question that had offended the bartender. ¡°Where can I find a maid?¡±


    The fish girl blinked. ¡°Did you mean a book about maids? Is that why you two were in the adult section?¡±


    ¡°No, no, no! Not like that¡± shouted Sylvia. ¡°We need a maid to clean stuff.¡±


    Claire nodded and elaborated on her careless friend¡¯s explanation. ¡°I don¡¯t know where to find one. Going to the tavern didn¡¯t work.¡±


    ¡°You tried to go to the tavern to hire a maid?¡± The storekeeper shook her head. ¡°You¡¯ve been watching too many plays.¡±


    ¡°The bards sa¡ª¡±


    Claire began to speak, but she was cut off when the mermaid raised a hand. ¡°Nevermind the bards. They never tell you what really happens. Go to one of them and all you¡¯ll get is an embellished fantasy. Stick to the books if you want real information.¡±


    ¡°Hey! That¡¯s rude!¡± shouted the fox fairy. ¡°We tell the truth all the time!¡±


    The shopkeeper smiled. ¡°Some of you do, perhaps.¡± She pulled out a piece of paper and quickly sketched a few lines onto it before pointing to a spot marked with a cross. ¡°This is where you are now. If you walk down the main street, turn on the third intersection, and keep going until you find a plaza, you¡¯ll find a large board with all sorts of different things on it.¡±


    Claire nodded as she magically yoinked a few coins out of her pouch and placed them on the counter.


    ¡°Talk to one of the ladies there, and they can put an advertisement up for you. There¡¯s a small fee, but I doubt you¡¯d mind if you¡¯ve got enough money to invest in maps.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Claire placed the scroll inside of a newly formed pocket and headed for the exit.


    ¡°Thank you, come again!¡± said the mermaid. ¡°And no browsing the adult section next time!¡±


    ¡°Bye!¡± said Sylvia.


    Claire didn¡¯t offer a verbal response, but she turned around and gave the clerk one last nod before closing the door behind her.

 Chapter 144 - A Day in Vel’khan IV

    Chapter 144 - A Day in Vel¡¯khan IV


    After posting a relatively vague job description and buying some fresh fish from the market, the pair snuck out of town and made their way back home. The return trip was just as uneventful as its morning counterpart and somehow even more devoid of company. There were no other parties headed westward. The select few they saw were moving towards the city, and all of them regarded the halfbreeds with pity or suspicion. Some spoke of banditry, but the claim was dismissed each time it was made. All of the bandits had been scyphs, and sentient jellyfish they clearly were not.


    ¡°Why¡¯s everyone being so weird?¡± asked Sylvia, as they passed the third group.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Claire. ¡°There aren¡¯t any strong monsters nearby.¡±


    The map they bought had confirmed Claire¡¯s prior assumption. It came with a list of the different monsters and their territories, none of which were worth noting. Vel¡¯rulm¡¯s forests were home to nothing but goblins and imps. The animals, the wolves and tigers, were far more threatening than the plague demons that were Glarchst¡¯s half-sentient believers. And that was why the pair was so confused. There was no reason for any of the passersby to be on guard.


    ¡°You think it might be because they¡¯ve never seen a lyrkress before?¡±


    ¡°I doubt it,¡± said Claire. She hadn¡¯t been the only oddball in town, or even on the road. The pair had spotted a number of bizarre halfbreeds wandering the streets. There were fish-headed creatures with dog-like limbs, rock golems with fins growing from their heads, and even a red-skinned orc with feathered wings and a halo. ¡°And it isn¡¯t my fault they¡¯re suspicious.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked.


    ¡°You¡¯re a talking fox.¡±


    The lyrkress reached for her companion, but she was unable to catch her. The indignant puppy ducked out of the way with a bark and smacked her tail against the ground. ¡°So!? That¡¯s normal!¡±


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t.¡± A second attempt was made, but her hands were blocked by a bubble. ¡°Foxes aren¡¯t people. They can¡¯t talk.¡±


    ¡°What the heck! I¡¯m talking to you right now! And it¡¯s not even like I¡¯m the only fox you¡¯ve talked to! Remember Grant?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Oh shush! I know you know that I know you remember him!¡±


    Claire¡¯s ears fluttered as she raised a hand to her mouth and hid a giggle. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    The fox, however, was not as entertained. She puffed up her cheeks, stood up on her hind legs, and crossed her front paws. ¡°I¡¯m going to bite you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like to see you try.¡± Sticking out her tongue, the rogue pulled her ears back into her hood and changed her magical cloak into a suit of less-than-shiny metal armour.


    ¡°Oh, come on! That¡¯s just cheating,¡± complained the furball.


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t. You¡¯d have no trouble biting right through it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but rust tastes awful and I hate the way it grates against my gums.¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re half elf. And not a real fox.¡±


    The lyrkress raised her head and looked towards the setting sun. The building was difficult to make out, with all the trees in the way. It was only two stories tall, and the rampart was hardly any higher. Compared to the two hundred meters at which the average plant stood, it was but a tiny invisible speck. The largest kapoks had trunks as wide as twenty meters, and their canopies were so lush and thick that it was impossible to see above or below them.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire?¡± Sylvia tilted her head and scrunched up her brows. ¡°You do know that normal foxes can¡¯t bite through metal, right?¡±


    ¡°The ones with nine tails can. I hear they eat swords.¡±


    ¡°Those aren¡¯t normal foxes!¡± shouted the fairy, indignantly. ¡°Normal foxes can only get up to three tails!¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re normal. In the Langgbjerns.¡±


    ¡°You mean the mountains up north?¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°You remembered this time.¡±


    ¡°Well, yeah! You¡¯ve been bringing them up a lot lately.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± The lyrkress looked in the direction of the distant range. It was invisible, from where she stood, but she knew where it was. ¡°I want to explore them. When I¡¯m strong enough.¡± Few knew what lay beyond or even within the continent-spanning sierra, and those that did were unwilling to share. In a way, it was almost like the forbidden library, from which the pair had escaped.


    ¡°You know¡­ I¡¯m almost surprised you¡¯re not going right now, with how reckless you are.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not reckless.¡± Claire twisted her lips into a pout.


    ¡°You fought a level 700 artificer!¡±


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t reckless. It was a calculated gamble. And it worked out.¡±


    The fox floated up to Claire¡¯s head and plopped herself down on top of it. ¡°Yeah, but you were barely level 200! Level 200 people don¡¯t fight level 700 people unless they have to!¡±


    ¡°Exactly. I didn¡¯t have a choice.¡±


    ¡°Yes you did!¡±


    The half moose tilted her head. ¡°Alfred gave me a quest.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you had to do it!¡±


    ¡°Yes it does.¡±


    Her limbs dangling and her deflated tail flopping behind her, she shook her head and breathed a tired sigh. ¡°Ugh¡­ you¡¯re so stubborn. I swear, sometimes I think you might be a mule, and not a weird deer moose thingy.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    With another giggle, Claire pinched the tip of her pet¡¯s nose and stepped off the beaten path. Sylvia laughed along at first, but she stopped and snapped to attention. Her favourite chair followed suit shortly after, coming to a halt with her eyes on the fox¡¯s twitching snout.


    ¡°Something feels kinda off¡­¡± The vixen¡¯s ears moved around as her eyes darted around the scene. ¡°We should probably sneak in. There¡¯s someone inside the building.¡± She hummed a bubble large enough to envelop them both before raising her nose and continuing her investigation.


    Claire nodded, turned her metal suit back into a set of casual clothes, and stepped inside the magical sphere. Her ears were raised overhead, strained to the best of her ability, but she heard nothing unusual. The only sounds that came to her were the ones always present within the forest, like the scurrying of critters and the dripping of dew. Whatever the intruder was, it was at least careful enough not to be heard from half a kilometer away.


    Together, they took the entirely unnecessary precaution of slowly sneaking towards the building. Sylvia¡¯s spell cut them off from the outside world; they were neither visible nor audible, even to the best of fighters. It would take another world-bending aspect to see through the fox¡¯s illusion.


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    ¡°It feels¡­ strange. For you to help like this.¡±


    Claire spoke in a half-whisper as she stepped through the open front door. Whoever entered their home had done so with their boots still caked in mud. The trails left by their feet were not only visible, but obviously fresh; the prints were still wet, and obnoxiously so.


    ¡°I know, but I swear it¡¯s not my fault!¡± cried Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯m so used to sitting around and watching that I keep forgetting to step in. But it¡¯s okay! I¡¯ll help lots, from now on. That¡¯s a promise.¡±


    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll hold you to it,¡± said the other halfbreed.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°Too bad. You¡¯re the one that promised.¡± Claire paused for a moment to craft a long, icy polearm sporting a hook and a hammer. It was a familiar design, and the last thing Frederick had left behind. ¡°Why do you think they¡¯re here?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I dunno,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Revenge maybe? I¡¯m pretty sure the really ugly one said that we were gonna pay or something before you started stabbing him over and over.¡±


    ¡°Maybe. But they wouldn¡¯t have sent just one.¡±


    She was only half focused on their conversation. Her ears were trained instead on the footsteps coming from the floor above. The attacker remained silent, but she could hear their heart accelerating as they sprung into action and burst through the wooden door at the end of the hall.


    Claire was calm until she was struck by a realization. The room the invader had broken into was the fort¡¯s master bedroom. Her bedroom.


    She kicked off the ground with the fury of a freshly neutered bull. Her hooves thundered as she stormed up the stairs and practically flew towards her quarters. She had no intention of allowing her privacy to be invaded, especially not by an uncultured bandit.


    ¡°They¡¯re not here.¡±


    It was only as she stampeded through the halls that the trespasser finally began to speak.


    ¡°The job said they¡¯d be here. Where did they go?¡±


    The bandit was talking about something or other, but Claire ignored her words. She raised her halberd over her shoulder and got ready to swing, her bloodlust growing with every step.


    Her target would be caught unawares. A single strike to the neck would put an immediate end to her. Before she could cause any harm.


    Claire was confident in her success. Until the intruder raised her hood. Sitting atop the woman¡¯s head were a pair of fuzzy triangular ears, twitching pyramids the same shade of caramel as her short, messy hair. Within her bright emerald green eyes were a pair of beautiful slit pupils, their edges just rounded enough that they didn¡¯t belong to a snake.


    It was only as her breath left her throat that Claire realised there was an extra appendage sticking out from between her legs. A thin, curved tail. Covered in the same fur that adorned her ears.


    The strength drained from the lyrkress¡¯ limbs as a small box appeared to confirm her greatest fear.


    Log Entry 5361


    Catgirl Detector V. 0.47 has reached level 25, its maximum level.


    Log Entry 5362


    Catgirl Detector V. 0.47 can now evolve into Catgirl Detector V. 1.00, but the process has failed to initiate. Manual intervention is required.


    The intruder was a catgirl. A bonafide, pureblooded, 100% catgirl.


    Claire fell to her knees. Her breath was stuck in her throat, refusing to budge, even as she grasped and clawed at her neck. All the thoughts she didn¡¯t want coursed through her mind with vigour anew.


    She couldn¡¯t stop her eyes from dancing across the other girl¡¯s frame, from tracing their way down the lines of her thin, delicate body. Every detail was burned into the back of her mind. The beads of sweat that dripped down her breathtakingly beautiful face. The book strapped to her dainty, irresistible hips. The matted hair in her otherwise silky tail. The calluses on her hands. The pores in her skin. Everything.


    A voice called out to her, but she couldn¡¯t make it out. Her ears were focused entirely on the catgirl. She could tell that her heart was beating a hundred and thirty nine times a second. Every pulse was followed with such precision that she could practically see the way her blood flowed through her veins.


    The world began to spin as a strange but familiar sensation came over her. Pain struck the lower half of her body as her serpentine stomach screamed for flesh. A line of drool escaped her lips. Her tongue flicked with anticipation. Flames lit within her chest, threatening to engulf her in an all consuming blaze of desire.


    She wanted, needed, to pounce. To consume.


    Just as she needed to resist.


    Blood streamed from her lips as she desperately tried to suppress the foreign urges. She knew they were Alfred¡¯s. His raw lust was bubbling up from within her, threatening to consume her mind. He wanted her to ravage the catgirl and claim her for her own. But she refused. His desire was one she never wanted to internalize. No matter what the circumstances.


    Claire wanted nothing but to be rid of his curse.


    She wanted to grab her head and crawl into a corner.


    She wanted to jab her halberd into her brain to make the voices stop, to gouge out her heart so that it would stop thumping, stop urging her to do something she didn¡¯t want.


    But all she could manage was ripping her ears to shreds. The pain helped her fight the loss of her sanity, just enough for her to eke out a quiet plea. ¡°Sylvia. Help. Please.¡±


    She realised, as she spoke, that there were already a pair of arms around her, that there was already a soothing tune, drowning out the cat-calls echoing through the back of her mind. She realised that a set of fingers was gently combing its way through her hair, that her body was covered in a gentle, magical light.


    And that her fingers were buried in flesh.


    Sylvia had grown to her full humanoid size. She was cradling her, even as the digits were pressed against her bones.


    With a gasp, Claire slowly loosened her grip and pulled her hands out of her friend¡¯s back. ¡°Sorry. Sylvia. I¡¯m¡­ so sorry.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± The response came with a calm, warm smile. The wounds closed immediately, but the evidence, a trail of blood, remained.


    She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. She was tempted to bury her face in the fox¡¯s chest, to breathe in her scent and hope that it would cleanse her memory, but she couldn¡¯t. Setting her self-loathing aside, she clenched her teeth and got to her feet. She had things to do. Catgirls to kill.


    A light squeeze prompted her to open her eyes anew, to see the worried gaze returned from almost point blank.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Her fists still clenched, she slowly backed away. ¡°I needed that.¡±


    ¡°Uhm¡­ are you sure you¡¯re okay?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯ve already bubbled her up, so you can just sit around and deal with her later, when you feel better.¡±


    Her arms and legs stopped shaking as she took another deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± She needed to stay calm, just as her father had always instructed.


    ¡°Do you need another hug?¡±


    Claire shook her head as she directed her gaze back towards the room. She couldn¡¯t see inside anymore, courtesy of the deep blue bubble in her way, but she knew that the abomination was right there in front of her. Her catgirl detector was screaming at her, informing her that her prey was still present and waiting, like a lamb to the slaughter.


    ¡°This is the best way. To get over it.¡±


    That was what her father had always told her. She needed to face her fears. Running would only make them haunt her.


    Knowing that she was relying on his words filled her with a whole new blend of self-loathing, but she pushed it aside and pressed on. Her reasons weren¡¯t important. All that mattered was the ability to fight the curse.


    A halberd in each hand, she assumed her lyrkrian form and stepped forward. She didn¡¯t know if it would rid her of the urges plaguing her mother¡¯s bloodline, but she kept moving either way and entered the barrier, with a hesitant, worried fox following soon after.


    ___


    Claire


    Health: 17160/17160


    Mana: 29760/29760


    Divinity: 5/5


    Health Regen: 6444/hour (12888/hour)


    Mana Regen: 24228/hour


    Divinity Regen: 5/hour


    Ability Scores - 3060 Points Available


    - Agility: 2100


    - Dexterity: 1685


    - Spirit: 866


    - Strength: 2273


    - Vitality: 1432


    - Wisdom: 2692


    Racial Class: Frostblight Lyrkress - Level 209.13


    - Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts - Level 41.62


    - Frostblight Lyrkrian Shapeshifting - Level 33.97


    - Paralyzing Gaze - Level 24.26


    - Thermodynamic Regulation - Level 13.10


    - True Ice Manipulation - Level 37.04


    Primary Class: Llystletein Essencethief - Level 192.05


    - Catgirl Detector V. 0.47 - Level 25


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00


    - Death¡¯s Dance - Level 23.41


    - Essencethief - level 16.38


    - Envenom - Level 31.55


    - Phantom Blade - Level 27.83


    Secondary Class: Cloudburst Sorceress - Level 157.92


    - Force Resistance - Level 7.97


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 22.94


    - Spirit Sorcery - Level 41.59


    - Vector Manipulation II - Level 9.73


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 5.00


    - Digging - Level 18.80


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority++ - Level 12.25


    - Marish - Level 19.11


    - Sewing - Level 1.43


    - Sneaking - Level 22.82


    - Weapon Mastery - Level 17.64

 Chapter 145 - A Day in Vel’khan V

    Chapter 145 - A Day in Vel¡¯khan V


    Claire kept her breath held as she cast her gaze upon the feline invader. The catgirl carried herself with confidence. She had a hand on the weapon strapped to her waist, a long, thin blade with a pointlessly decorative handle. Her shoulders were relaxed and her tail allowed to rest behind her. Despite being trapped, her body betrayed no signs of tension.


    Until the two locked eyes.


    Meeting the half-centaur¡¯s cold stare sent a shiver down the cat¡¯s spine. Her tail frazzled up and shot into the air; her shoulders were raised, her fangs were bared, and she even took half a step back.


    Log Entry 5363


    Charm Catgirl has reached level 2.


    But at the same time, her face was flushed. She kept pulling her eyes away from Claire¡¯s, only to meet her gaze again soon after. Her breath grew heavy and her heart started to beat against her chest for reasons amusing only to the degenerate that had crafted her species.


    Still, despite the confusing feelings welling up from within, the pervert¡¯s creation fulfilled her duty. She drew her rapier and pointed it at the chimera that stood before her, as would any other brave warrior. ¡°The time for your reckoning has come, bandit! Prepare to die!¡±


    There was a clear misunderstanding, but the lyrkress couldn¡¯t be bothered to correct it. She had no intention of speaking to the catgirl. The last thing she wanted was to give the feline abomination another excuse to talk and grate away at her sanity with her almost divine voice.


    After brandishing her weapon and taking a stance, the humanoid shot forward like an arrow loosed from the longest of bows. It was a swift attack, one that would have caught any of the building''s previous owners off guard, but Claire was prepared. Raising a hand, she grabbed the feline¡¯s ankle right as she first took off. The joint was pushed back when it was meant to move forwards, and its owner fell face first into the straw that coated the bedroom floor.


    She tried to scramble to her feet, but a hoof stomped her back into the ground and kept her locked in place.


    Log Entry 5364


    Charm Catgirl has reached level 7.


    Another stomp threatened to shatter her wrist, but she moved her hand out of the way and retaliated with a quick sweeping slash. The cat-eared freak was sure that the attack had hit the leg head on, but the blade was deflected with an odd clink. The limb she struck felt more like a bone or shell than it did something made of flesh. She tried to swing the weapon again, but her hand refused to move. It was being held in place, pushed into the floor by something she couldn¡¯t see.


    Her attention lapsed briefly as she tried to wrench her hand from the bandit¡¯s invisible grasp, just long enough for yet another hoof to crash into her side and send her flying into one of the walls.


    The damage itself was negligible. None of the hits were forceful enough to chip away at her health, but each did something to her mind. She could feel the urge to resist slipping away; the half-centaur¡¯s kicks were almost soft and comforting, echoing just far enough to reach her tired bones, like a careful massage.


    A hand grabbed her by the throat before she could peel her body off the wall. Her breath grew ragged. She could feel her face reddening, and not because she was short of air. Slowly, she raised her watery eyes to meet the attackers¡¯. For once, she managed not to shy away. She matched the cold, terrifying stare head on, and continued to gaze into it, even as she lost the ability to breathe.


    Log Entry 5365


    Charm Catgirl has reached level 11.


    It was just as eerie and unfeeling as the glare she had fled, just a few weeks prior, only more exciting, more enticing. Her urge to escape was matched, overpowered, by the need to keep her eyes focused on the lovely serpentine pupils before them.


    She wasn¡¯t brought back to reality until she spotted the lyrkress¡¯ weapon. It was being raised overhead. So it could split her skull in two. Death was on her doorstep. But she almost didn¡¯t care. She couldn¡¯t bring herself to resist, even as her sister¡¯s voice echoed through her head, reminding her of her vendetta, the debt she had yet to repay.


    And yet, she licked her lips. Her tongue moved on its own, as she glanced between the assailant and her weapon. She knew it was crazy not to resist, but an odd sensation welled up from deep inside her, from the very core of her being, and placated her fear with a strange sense of satisfaction.


    ¡°Are you going to eat me?¡± She didn¡¯t know where the words had come from. They confused her as much as the hot sigh that accompanied them.


    She almost wanted it. She didn¡¯t know why, and she couldn¡¯t convince herself otherwise. Her mind was too numb. It was just as friends had always said would happen, if she was captured by the enemy. And she, for whatever reason, was on board.


    Her attacker, however, was not. The question was met with an annoyed scowl, an angry grimace, and a kick to the gut. But again, it was a light attack, one that barely hurt. And again, she licked her lips and met the half-centaur¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°That¡¯s it. I¡¯ve had enough,¡± mumbled the Cadrian. ¡°I should have known that all catgirls would be perverts.¡± She had on her face a look of visible disgust, one that only further fueled the feline¡¯s desire.


    She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as the end approached. But it never came. When she next blinked, the cat found herself flying through the air. She was outside the fortress, tumbling from the second story down to the ground floor.


    Her body moved by itself. After landing on all fours, she sprinted straight for the fort¡¯s front entrance and tried to get back inside. But oddly enough, it was locked. Even though she had confirmed, when she first broke in, that no such mechanism existed. It was only once she started pounding at the door that she realised how ludicrous her actions were. By knocking, she was courting her own death, asking to be slain.


    While the catgirl was frozen outside, evaluating the lapse in her judgement, Claire spent her time fighting the urge to vomit. She didn¡¯t speak aloud, but internally, she was screaming Alfred¡¯s name in vain. It was all his fault. He was responsible for plaguing her mind with unwanted thoughts, and he was responsible for bestowing upon the catgirl her newly acquired interests.


    Claire shivered and quaked as she recalled the manner in which the other girl had stared into her eyes. It was disgusting, revolting even. She had wanted nothing more but to bludgeon the feline¡¯s face, but the curse made it so she couldn¡¯t. Her hand never moved to deliver the final blow, no matter how many orders she gave it.


    She grit her feet and clenched her hands into fists as she silently got to her feet. The knocking had resumed again shortly after it stopped; the catgirl hadn¡¯t left, as she had hoped. It wasn¡¯t over. Not yet.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    That was why she shook her head at Sylvia, who had spread her arms wide, and walked down the hall. The catgirl didn¡¯t know that she couldn¡¯t kill her. She would continue to hold the initiative, so long as she didn¡¯t reveal the weakness that was her hand.


    Claiming victory over the celestial¡¯s curse was as simple as driving the catgirl away. That was all she needed to do to prove that she was still in control, but something about the whole situation was warped. The feline was clearly lacking a sense of reason. She didn¡¯t seem to think anything of her own life.


    More important than that, however, was her own inability to act. Her heart was still beating up a storm. Her breathing was heavy, and she didn¡¯t think that her head was quite in the right place. Something was wrong with her body, but she pressed on nonetheless.


    She walked to the source of the noise, steadied her breath, and slowly pulled it open to reveal the confused feline on the other side.


    ¡°What?¡± she asked, with an annoyed scowl.


    ¡°What did you do to me!?¡±


    ¡°I threw you out the window.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m talking about! What did you do to my mind!?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± It wasn¡¯t a lie. They were both victims; the skill had gone off on its own. ¡°Now leave. I¡¯ll stab you in the face, next time you knock.¡± Claire slammed the door on the unwelcome guest, only to be subjected to another round of banging.


    She tried to ignore it, but the catgirl was too obnoxious to dismiss. She kept hitting the door at uneven intervals, over and over. Claire tried icing her ears, but she could tell that the cursed kitty was still present. Her detector skill was screaming at her, reminding her each time the unwelcome guest attacked the building¡¯s entrance.


    Her lips twisted into a scowl, she raised a hand and fired an icy spear through the wooden gateway, followed by a second, a third, and a fourth. Only the final attack, which came after a brief delay, elicited any sort of response. The door was flung open. The angry intruder held the broken handle in one hand and her sword in the other, a thin line of blood dripping from her forehead.


    ¡°You had to have done something¡­ else I¡¯d never feel like¡­ like¡­ this.¡±


    To Claire¡¯s displeasure, she found herself incapable of looking away, but not for the same reason as before. She had to keep an eye on the intruder, in case she attacked, and observing her came with the unfortunate side effect of reading her lips. Even with her ears plugged, she could hear the embarrassed tone that had accompanied the flushed catgirl¡¯s words; her voice had already been etched into the back of her mind.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care how you feel. The bandits you¡¯re after are dead. Go away.¡±


    The catgirl paused for a moment to adjust the crooked square-rimmed glasses resting on her face. She calmed down, just enough for her blush to start fading away. ¡°Oh¡­ that¡¯s convenient. Is there any evidence?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know, don¡¯t care,¡± said the half-moose. ¡°Look around, find it yourself.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to help me?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    The brown-haired pest pressed a hand to her chest and reeled back, as if struck by an arrow. Slowly, she raised her head and gave the lyrkress the most pathetic sad cat look she could. It wasn¡¯t entirely perfect, given that her face had started reddening once more, but it didn¡¯t matter. The lyrkress wouldn¡¯t have had any of it either way.


    With an annoyed hiss, Claire kicked the intruder in the gut and sent her flying out the door. An icy wall was constructed in the broken gap soon after, but it wasn¡¯t enough of a deterrent. The catgirl switched up her approach and attempted to enter the building through its many windows, but the ice mage sealed them all before she could.


    ¡°Wow, she¡¯s kinda weird,¡± said Sylvia, from her place atop the stairs.


    ¡°Very.¡± The other halfbreed pressed a hand to her face and leaned against the wall. She was finally safe; the whole fort was encased in a thick layer of ice.


    ¡°Yeah, I think I¡¯m starting to see why Al thinks they¡¯re perfect now. She¡¯s totally his type.¡±


    ¡°Because she had cat parts?¡±


    ¡°Well, there¡¯s that too¡­ but it¡¯s not just that. It¡¯s also ¡®cause they¡¯re super easy to mindbre¡ª¡± She clasped a hand to her mouth, and stopped the word from making it all the way out. ¡°Actually, you know what? Nevermind, it''s not important.¡± Turning back into a fox, Sylvia leapt down the stairs, crawled over to Claire¡¯s lap, and curled up on top of it. She yawned once, then pushed the side of her face straight into the other halfbreed¡¯s stomach and closed her eyes. ¡°Are you feeling any better?¡±


    ¡°Much better. It stopped being so bad, once I got used to her.¡± Claire placed a hand on the fox¡¯s head and ruffled her fur. Catgirl detector was still going off, but it no longer contributed to her stress. She had already identified the intruder as something of a living brick undeserving of attention or respect, an impression that Alfred¡¯s influence was nowhere near powerful enough to change.


    A smile crossed her lips right as the building was ripped apart. A diagonal cleave cut across it and separated the first and second floors. The ceiling slowly slid away, falling along an incline to reveal the catgirl, standing atop the branch of a nearby tree.


    ¡°What the heck!?¡± Sylvia reacted with a start. She jumped to her feet and started growling with her midsection raised and her front paws spread far apart.


    It started to storm as the invader entered the exposed building. The dark clouds gave way to a thundering, evening shower, just as they had almost every other night.


    ¡°Let¡¯s start over.¡± The swordswoman brandished her weapon and pointed it straight at Claire¡¯s neck. ¡°I¡¯m Lia, Armidian Fastpaw, and bounty hunter extraordinaire. I¡¯m here for the head of bandit chief Vik Sinnue, and I won¡¯t leave until it¡¯s mine.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes and leaned back against the wall. ¡°I don¡¯t care. Go away.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go away as soon as you tell me where it i¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not telling you anything,¡± said the half-lamia, with a hiss.


    ¡°Why n¡ª¡±


    The question was cut off by an annoyed magical glare. ¡°Why not? Why not?¡± Claire¡¯s hands trembled as she smashed the back of her fist into the wall. Large cracks shot through ice and stone alike as she grit her teeth hard enough for her gums to bleed. ¡°You just cut apart my home.¡±


    Lia¡¯s confident tail started to fall. She tried to back off, but her feet wouldn¡¯t budge. Instead, she found herself falling forwards, towards the source of her terror.


    ¡°Fix it,¡± demanded the moose.


    ¡°F-fix it?¡± The catgirl gulped. Her eyes darted to and fro as she sought a path to escape, but her body refused to move, regardless of how many she identified.


    ¡°Fix the building.¡±


    A long chain made of ice appeared around the catgirl¡¯s ankle. The shackle¡¯s other end was tied to the doorframe, anchored to the giant block of ice that sealed it shut.


    ¡°H-how!?¡± stuttered Lia.


    ¡°Don¡¯t know, don¡¯t care,¡± said Claire. ¡°But you¡¯re not allowed to leave until it¡¯s fixed.¡± Her eyes narrowed, she picked up her pet fox, and moved towards the kitchen.


    The captive construction worker slashed at her chains as soon as the lyrkress turned her back. Surely enough, her trusty blade slipped right through the ice, but that was as far as she got.


    All the hairs on her body suddenly rose as everything grew hot. She didn¡¯t know where the heat was coming from, but it was accompanied by a dull pain. The burning sensation grew a thousand times stronger in the next instant and turned to a fiery agony. It started at the top of her head, but spread rapidly and pulsed through the rest of her body a moment later. Her muscles spasmed, twitching and jumping in ways that shouldn¡¯t have been possible. Everything turned white; she was caught in a blinding flash of bright light.


    ¡°I forgot to mention. You¡¯ll be struck by lightning. Every time you try to escape.¡±


    Log Entry 5366


    Charm Catgirl has reached level 13.


    She gasped for air as the electric charge faded, the insides of her roasted lungs screaming for the sweet release of death. Collapsing onto the ground, she turned her gaze to the two-legged centaur, whose eyes were alight with a sadistic glint. Just like her sister¡¯s murderer.


    She couldn¡¯t tell if she had imagined it. It was gone when she next looked again. But whatever the case, the catgirl coughed and pushed herself off the ground. Slowly, she raised her head and saw in the ice covered walls her own mirror image. Her heart began to pound as she realised that she was not wearing the look of twisted anguish she expected. Her face featured instead a strange, unfamiliar expression, one that mixed a blush and a captivated, drooling smile.


    As much as she didn¡¯t want to admit it, she knew. She knew that she had found something that could never be replaced.

 Chapter 146 - The Thunder God’s Temple

    Chapter 146 - The Thunder God¡¯s Temple


    Taking on a much less centaurian form, Claire pressed a hand to her head, turned the corner, and collapsed face down atop the kitchen table. Her mind was numb and she had an odd taste in her mouth. The rancid, vomit-inducing sensation stuck to the bottom of her tongue and refused to leave her alone, even after she tried to wash it away with an excessive amount of stale water.


    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want me to kill her for you?¡± Sylvia stuck her head into the foyer and glanced at the catgirl, who was staring at the wall with a bisected rock in hand.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it myself. Later.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Claire, firmly.


    Eyebrows raised and face twisted into a dubious glare, the fox leapt onto the table and used her tail to prod at the other halfbreed¡¯s cheek.


    ¡°What?¡± Slowly, the lyrkress turned and locked eyes with the critter. Her brows were creased and her lips folded into an annoyed pout.


    ¡°I¡¯m trying to get a better look at your face so I can tell if you¡¯re lying.¡±


    The statement was met with a trio of rapid blinks. ¡°Why would I be lying?¡±


    ¡°Because you always lie about killing people!¡± Sylvia stood up on her hind legs, put her paws on her hips, and huffed. ¡°You do the exact opposite of what you say you¡¯re gonna do every single time!¡±


    ¡°When has that ever happened?¡±


    ¡°How the heck did you manage to forget!¡± The fox brought her tail between them and split its tip in four. The first was lowered immediately, as she confronted the suspect with an irrefutable piece of evidence. ¡°Remember Geoff? You kept talking about how you were gonna kill him, but you never did.¡±


    ¡°Not for lack of trying. He just wouldn¡¯t die.¡±


    ¡°Okay, but what about Al? You kept threatening him, but you only ever made half-hearted attempts to hurt him!¡±


    ¡°I almost stabbed him in the face.¡± Claire crafted a pair of objects made of ice. One was the old mage¡¯s face, and the other was a small knife. She thrusted the weapon straight at his nose, but it crumbled on contact; the thin blade too fragile to break through the tiny glacier.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t count! He¡¯s a celestial! A face stab or two is nothing!¡±


    ¡°You never know.¡±


    ¡°I do know!¡± Sylvia stamped her front paws indignantly. ¡°Trying to kill a celestial with a random knife is like trying to fight an army with just one soldier! It¡¯s never gonna work!¡±


    The rogue slowly sat up with a shrug. ¡±It might be possible. If the soldier is really strong.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ right¡± Sylvia placed a paw against her chin and tilted her head. The motion was mirrored by her tail, which moved in the exact opposite direction. ¡°Maybe if he¡¯s lucky. It¡¯d be really hard because he¡¯ll just get tired, but I guess he could probably tough it out if he tried hard enough.¡±


    ¡°See? It¡¯s not impossible.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush! It was a bad example! And you don¡¯t have any excuses for the last two! You said you weren¡¯t gonna do Al¡¯s quest, but then you went ahead and killed two of dad¡¯s friends the very next day!¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t the next da¡ªow.¡±


    The perfectly reasonable statement was answered with a nip. Sylvia puffed up her tail and chomped her teeth down on Claire¡¯s wrist, just hard enough not to draw blood.


    ¡°You deserved that.¡± The hat huffed as she turned her face away from her two-eared chew toy.


    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t.¡± Claire grabbed ahold of her four-legged friend and exacted vengeance with her fingers. Mercilessly, she wriggled them, leaving the fox with no choice but to giggle and cackle until she was completely out of breath.


    While the two of them spent the evening as they would any other, the captive catgirl was in anything but high spirits. Overhearing the conversation left her trembling in terror with her tail tucked between her legs. She was not aware that the fox could speak. It was starting to sound like her captor had two personalities, and at least one was out to see her dead.


    Claire, of course, was well aware that Lia was listening in and panicking, but did nothing to clear up the misunderstanding. It wasn¡¯t her problem, and frankly, she had more important things to deal with. Like Alfred¡¯s machinations.


    Her fingers still holding the fox¡¯s breath hostage, she glanced through her menu and settled her gaze on the skill that had suddenly jumped to its maximum level. Catgirl Detector was ready to evolve. She almost didn¡¯t want to go through with it. Warning bells were already going off in the back of her mind, screaming that it was too dangerous, especially with one of the accursed horrors standing just outside the door. It could power up the curse if she was unlucky and shatter her mind with Alfred¡¯s desires.


    But her dumb pet was right there in her arms.


    She was sure to stop her, even if the worst was to happen. And she was confident. That she could resist.


    ¡°Sylvia.¡± She spoke only after stopping her fingers and waiting for the half-elf to finally catch her breath.


    ¡°M-mhm?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to do something stupid.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ what do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to evolve one of the skills Alfred gave me.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ is it one of the catgirl ones?¡±


    The question was answered with a poker-faced nod.


    ¡°Okay! I think you should be fine, but I¡¯ll put you in a bubble if you aren¡¯t.¡± The fox rubbed her cheek against one of the scaly patches just under in the palm of her owner¡¯s hand as she spoke. It was nice and cool, more comfortable than the warmer bits around it.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    Taking one more breath, the lyrkress turned her eyes on her menu and initiated the process. A small blue box popped up right in front of her, asking her to confirm. The text vanished when she nodded, replacing itself with a ring made of six tiny circles. One seemed to come to life, lighting up briefly before passing its flame onto the next. The process repeated for what seemed like an eternity; it took a full thirty five revolutions for the box to finally go away.


    Log Entry 5367


    Catgirl Detector V. 0.47 has evolved into Catgirl Detector V. 1.00. Base functionality has been overhauled and several additional features have been added.


    Log Entry 5368


    Alfred Llarsse has attempted to whisper you, but this process has ended in failure. (Error Code: 46182. You are not connected to World Chat.)


    Log Entry 5369


    You have failed to connect to World Chat. (Error Code: 10047. Networked features are not available.)


    Log Entry 5370


    Your credentials have been reconfigured by a system administrator. Networked features have been enabled. Use of networked features requires the consumption of divine energy.


    Log Entry 5371


    You have been connected to World Chat.


    Claire¡¯s head started to spin. Flux¡¯s voice read the entries not in tandem, but all at once. It was a muddled, unintelligible mess that she failed to understand. Reading barely helped. Half the words almost appeared to be used in the wrong context.


    She was left confused until greeted by a large red box. The strange window, labeled World Chat, popped up in front of her without warning. At first, it was blank, but text started to appear within it before she could finish inspecting its details.


    Dorr: Who¡¯s that?


    Alfred: Just someone I put in for fun, don¡¯t worry too much about it :)


    Severantus: Oh, no no no no no no! You added her?


    Dorr: ???


    Dorr: It sounds like I should be worried.


    Alfred: Nah, he¡¯s just overreacting :)


    Rapidly, the often half composed sentences scrolled, with the older chunks moving upwards, like entries in a log.


    Alfred: Don¡¯t think too hard and there won¡¯t be any problems.


    Severantus: Fuck that, I¡¯m out.


    Dorr: Sev? Explain?


    Severantus: I am not dealing with this again. Abso-fucking-lutely not.


    Dorr: ???


    Severantus has disconnected from World Chat.


    Dorr: ¡­


    Dorr: What¡¯s wrong with him?


    Alfred: ¡¥\_(¥Ä)_/¡¥


    (Whisper) Alfred: Hello, Claire. Excellent wo-


    Log Entry 5372


    You have been disconnected from World Chat. Incoming messages have been truncated. (Error Code: 18107. Insufficient Divinity.)


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Her jaws clenched and her hand against her face, Claire sat back in her chair and took a series of deep breaths. Only a few seconds had elapsed between her two most recent log entries. There was hardly enough time for her to read all the text, let alone grasp everything that had happened. It didn¡¯t help that her head was throbbing. Everything between her shard and her brain felt like it was on fire.


    ¡°C-Claire?¡± Sylvia placed a paw on the lyrkress¡¯ hand and tilted her head. ¡°Are you supposed to be glowing?¡±


    Looking down, she found that her magic circuits had come to life. They were flooded with an uncontrolled torrent of fading gold.


    ¡°Great. This again.¡± She heaved a small sigh as she turned into a lamia and curled up in one of the dining room¡¯s corners. The world was already starting to spin and distort; the backlash was setting in.


    ¡°Can you put me to sleep? With magic.¡± She didn¡¯t want to deal with the exhaustion. It was too much of a bother.


    ¡°Sure thing!¡± chirped the fairy. She crawled into the nook between Claire¡¯s tail and stomach and started to hum a series of gentle tunes. A lullaby infused with a tiny hint of power. ¡°Good night, Claire.¡±


    ¡°Good night.¡±


    The spell was much more subdued and gentle compared to the last time the fox had used it; the onset of drowsiness was more gradual, relaxing. As her eyes started to droop, Claire directed them towards the box and glanced through her newest skill.


    Catgirl Detector V. 1.00 - Level 1


    The distinction between affection and carnal desire is one of the typical signs of intelligence present in those fluent in Marish. Your inability to express this otherwise universal constant is baffling and beyond the point of comprehension. Avoid donating your brain to science in the case that you reach your demise. The revelation of its structure is sure to baffle even the most brilliant minds and delay any notable progress in the field of neurology for another five decades.


    Effects


    - You are capable of seeing catgirls through walls.


    - The tracks left by others are more clear to you, and you are able to associate them with an approximate point in time, accurate to a 25% (26% - 1% per level) margin of error.


    - You are capable of seeing through items equipped by catgirls. Activating this effect allows the target to sense your gaze, but it cannot be blocked save by divine means.


    - You are capable of discerning the precise extent to which anything is or is not a catgirl. This feature will activate automatically in the presence of any individual that is systematically related to or associated with catgirls.


    - You are able to designate a creature as your target and track it if it is within 10.25km (10km + 0.25km/level) of your location. This range may be increased by a percentage correlating to the extent to which the target you are tracking is a catgirl.


    ¡°Sometimes, I think it¡¯d be better if I never woke up.¡±


    ¡°H-huh!?¡± Sylvia snapped to attention and blinked at her lyrkrian pillow, but not another word was shared between them until the sun was back above the horizon.


    ___


    When Claire got up the next morning, she wandered out of the kitchen and frowned at the intruder sitting in her living room. The chain that bound the catgirl to the door had long melted; there was no longer anything holding the pervert in place. And yet, she had remained, curled up right in front of the door. It wasn¡¯t as if she had stayed to work through the night; the fort was still just as destroyed as it had been the previous evening, and any effort invested in manual repair was sure to prove futile. The materials had been too heavily damaged. They could only be fixed by an earth mage or replaced with a generous sum of gold.


    What irked Claire most was not the cat¡¯s lack of progress, nor her continued presence, but the extent of her comfort. While she was too stressed to sleep without any magical assistance, the feline had been able to lay back and relax, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She was even mumbling random things in her sleep.


    The lyrkress was tempted to give the uninvited guest the good old hoof to the face, but pulled her leg back as she recalled the previous day¡¯s events. Instead, she blasted the unsanitary feline with freezing cold air until she opened her eyes.


    It took the catgirl a brief moment to stir, after which she immediately shot to her feet with her fingers sharply extended in a picture perfect military salute.


    ¡°Sergeant Natalya Vernelle reporting for dut¡ª¡± She didn¡¯t stop until she realised that her superior officer had not, in fact, woken her with a bucket of cold water. Again. ¡°S-sorry. Force of habit.¡± She covered her face with her hands to hide her reddened cheeks as she looked around in an attempt to identify the source of all the cold.


    ¡°Why are you still here?¡± Ignoring the skit, Claire kept her face neutral and spoke in a perfectly flat tone, devoid enough of emotion to impress even her father.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to get hit by lightning again. Once was bad enough.¡± She was more calm and collected than she was the previous night. Her eyes didn¡¯t suddenly shift around, and she no longer started panting whenever she cast her gaze on her captor¡¯s face.


    ¡°It was an empty threat. Now leave,¡± The force mage extended an arm and reeled in a rocky brick. ¡°Or I¡¯ll hit you until you do.¡±


    Natalya flushed for just a moment before shaking her head and fixing her expression. ¡°I was actually hoping to negotiate.¡±


    ¡°I refu¡ª¡±


    ¡°Claaiiiire! Where¡¯s breakfast?¡±


    The bloodthief opened her mouth to reject the notion, but she was cut off by the fox that followed her into the foyer. Sylvia yawned aloud and stretched, her eyes only half open, as she wandered around the room and bumped into random pieces of rubble.


    ¡°I¡¯ll summon it later.¡± She turned back to the catgirl so she could get on with her refusal, but Lia was not where she left her. It took following Catgirl Detector¡¯s instructions and lowering her gaze to the floor, where she found the bipedal cat on all fours with her ears up and her tail half-raised.


    ¡°Is that a talking fox?¡± she asked, as she gave the air a sniff.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ hi?¡± Sylvia yawned as she stumbled over to Claire, raised her front paws, and pushed against the ground with her hind legs. She repeated it a few times, stopping only after she was lifted up to her usual perch.


    ¡°Wow¡­ She¡¯s adorable,¡± said the catgirl. She slowly got back up, her eyes fixed on the fairy that shared her creator throughout. ¡°Can I pet her?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire. ¡°Leave.¡±


    ¡°Not until you point me to my target.¡± The catgirl put her hands on her hips and frowned. ¡°I won¡¯t get paid if I don¡¯t have any proof that he isn¡¯t here anymore.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°Okay, how about this?¡± Natalya looked around the half functional home, her eyes primarily focused on the missing ceiling. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a new place to stay if you help me prove he¡¯s dead.¡±


    ¡°Do we even have anything that she can use as proof?¡± whispered Sylvia. ¡°Didn¡¯t you get rid of all their stuff already?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember.¡± Responding just as quietly, the lyrkress narrowed her eyes, and glared at the catgirl until she reacted with an uncomfortable gulp. ¡°And why would you do that?¡±


    ¡°Because I was hoping that you¡¯d listen to some of my reque¡ª¡±


    ¡°I refuse.¡±


    ¡°All I¡¯d like is fo¡ª¡±


    ¡°I. Refuse.¡±


    Claire reached for the obnoxious intruder¡¯s face, but the grab was evaded. Natalya ducked under her arm and smiled. Her brow was creased and her lips were curved as far as they would go. So annoyed was the lyrkress that she decided not to ignore it. She froze the pervert with a glare and smacked her in the face with her tail.


    Log Entry 5373


    Paralyzing Gaze has reached level 25.


    ¡°All I¡¯d like is for us to work together,¡± said Natalya. She spoke as soon as she was unfrozen, before she even got up from the half crumbled wall with which her face had made contact.


    The request was met with silence. Claire said nothing, opting only to pinch her nose and heave a small sigh. She made it clear that she was annoyed and unwilling to deal with any more, but the brunette failed to catch the memo. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to put together a more permanent group, but finding competent allies is difficult, and you seem to fit the bill. It would mainly be for bounty hunting, treasure hunting and dungeon diving.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Claire looked up at her hat. ¡°If we do any of that, it¡¯ll be by ourselves.¡±


    ¡°What if I told you that I have a permit that can get us into any dungeon in Vel¡¯khan?¡± The declaration was made with the catgirl¡¯s chest held high and her nose pointed in the air. She was clearly proud, but her arrogance was answered with nothing but another blank stare.


    ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°So? So!?¡± Natalya threw her arms up in the air as she shouted, loud enough to disturb a nearby flock of crows. ¡°Do you know how hard it is to get these things? If you aren¡¯t super lucky, it can take months to get your application in front of the right person, and most of the time, it¡¯ll still just get rejected!¡±


    Claire paused for a moment to consider the options presented. She wasn¡¯t entirely unfamiliar with the process. Cadria didn¡¯t believe in the practice of restricting dungeons to the general public, but some of its neighbours did. If Vel¡¯khan had a similar system in place, it would be impossible for them to enter without earning themselves a reputation. And that was not something that the half-moose was willing to do. She already had a target painted on her back. Attracting attention would be foolish.


    ¡°What¡¯s a permit?¡± whispered Sylvia.


    ¡°It¡¯s a magic key that lets you enter places that others can¡¯t,¡± responded the lyrkress. Like the elf, she spoke under her breath, too quietly for the catgirl to hear.


    ¡°Can¡¯t we just steal hers?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯d stop working.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ That sucks.¡±


    ¡°It does.¡± Claire lowered her hood over her eyes. She couldn¡¯t deny that it was a lucrative offer, even if it meant that she would have to remain on guard for the curse¡¯s effects. Despite the previous night¡¯s events, she didn¡¯t think it would prove too much of a problem. It wasn¡¯t bothering her anymore. It was almost like it had weakened.


    ¡°So? What do you think?¡± asked Natalya.


    Claire crossed her arms. ¡°You¡¯ll cover our lodgings?¡±


    The catgirl nodded.


    ¡°Not good enough.¡± The half-moose narrowed her eyes and walked to the shortest wall. Because it was half collapsed, it stood at only half her lyrkrian height.


    ¡°I-it isn¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± She placed the rock in her hands on top of the once solid bulwark and rolled it, so it fell off the other side. ¡°This building is worth more than a free room. And you destroyed it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because you were refusing to cooperate.¡± Natalya smiled awkwardly. She was clearly flustered, but tried not to let it show. ¡°Well¡­ I might be able to arrange for some equipment and introduce you to a few people, but that¡¯s about as much as I can do.¡±


    ¡°Still not good enough.¡± Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°You have to do all the housework.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    The feline blinked before tilting her head and raising a brow.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to cook and clean when I tell you to, and you¡¯ll do whatever other chores I tell you to. For the duration of this partnership.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ suppose I could. We¡¯re going to be staying at an inn anyway, and there¡¯s going to be room service, so there isn¡¯t much to do.¡±


    ¡°And you can¡¯t stay in the same room as me.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± The catgirl tilted her head and scratched it. ¡°We¡¯re both girls.¡±


    Claire glared at her for a brief moment before answering with a sigh. ¡°Because you¡¯re a pervert.¡±


    ¡°Wha!?¡± Natalya¡¯s face reddened as she raised her brow. ¡°I-I know I was behaving a little strangely last night, but I¡¯m not a pervert! I don¡¯t know what came over me, but I¡¯m not like that. I swear!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible,¡± chirped Sylvia. ¡°All catgirls are perverts.¡±


    ¡°My thoughts exactly,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°No we¡¯re not!¡± screamed the pervert.


    ¡°Believe what you want.¡± Her expression still perfectly neutral, Claire extended an ice-covered hand. ¡°Claire. Frostblight Lyrkress. Mage, as you¡¯ve guessed.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m Sylvia Redleaf,¡± said the furball.


    ¡°Err¡­ right. Call me Lia,¡± said the catgirl. She started to shiver as soon as she took the lyrkress¡¯ hand, but she shook it nonetheless. ¡°What race are you, Sylvia? I thought Redleaf was supposed to be an elven last name.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s a woodfox.¡± Claire pinched the half-elf¡¯s nose and silenced her before she could blab.


    The answer was still rather out of place. Most creatures only had biomes in their names if they were adapted to life outside their usual environments, but foxes lived more often in forests than not. Still, there was merit to the blatant lie. It was good enough an answer to shut the catgirl up, and as far as Claire was concerned, that was all that mattered.

 Chapter 147 - The Thunder God’s Temple II

    Chapter 147 - The Thunder God¡¯s Temple II


    Claire crossed her arms and frowned as she surveyed the ruined fortress from atop a nearby tree. Negotiations had gone well, but there was a problem. They had no way to prove that the bandits were dead. Because she couldn¡¯t be bothered to deal with sorting through their goods herself, Claire had ordered Shoulderhorse to wander through the building and consume anything that wasn¡¯t a piece of furniture, a body, or a wallet; everything else that had belonged to them was was gone, destroyed in the first twenty four hours of their stay.


    The corpses had been gathered up in the courtyard and deleted with the pony¡¯s detonation. There was still the occasional piece of half-fried, rotting flesh hanging around the property, but the scraps did little to aid the group in identifying the outlaws.


    ¡°Oh, I know!¡± Sylvia, who had joined the lamia in her brainstorming, stood up on her hind legs and threw a paw into the air. ¡°I can just put the top half of the fort in a bubble and take it with us.¡±


    The bottom of a hand crashed right into the middle of the half-elf¡¯s skull as soon as she was finished speaking. The moose that delivered the chop was so annoyed that she couldn¡¯t be bothered to grace the pet with a verbal reply.


    ¡°Ow! What was that for!?¡± complained the furball.


    ¡°I felt like it,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± The abused animal grumbled under her breath as she rubbed the fresh bump. ¡°That was supposed to be a rhetorical question. Everyone already knows you hit people just ¡®cause you think it¡¯s fun.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh¡­¡± The fox flashed a brief look of disbelief before shaking her head and breathing a sigh. ¡°Sometimes, I can¡¯t tell if you¡¯re joking or just really bad at being self aware.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Giggling, Claire lifted the fox off the branch and set her down in her lap. ¡°Father was right. Keeping severed heads really is a good idea.¡± As much as she hated it, she had to admit that the time she spent outside the manor had proven that many of his supposed life lessons were far more sensible than she had once assumed.


    Shaking her head clear of the thought, she scanned the fort again and eventually rested her eyes on the only source of motion. Natalya was digging through the building¡¯s half collapsed interior. She started with the empty bottom floor, and soon moved on to exploring its less-than-restored second story. She isn¡¯t going to find anything.


    ¡°I found something!¡± shouted the catgirl. She rose from the rubble with something hugged to her chest and waved at the pair already looking in her direction.


    ¡­I blame Flux.


    With a grumble and a sigh, Claire put on her usual poker face and floated down from the tree. The descent was slow and gradual, perfectly controlled by her resistance to the natural order.


    She took only two looks at the object in Natalya¡¯s hands before pinching the bridge of her nose. It was a familiar but plain brown chest with a magical crest carved into its lid¡ªthe useless box that Alfred had entrusted them with upon their departure.


    ¡°I tried prying it open, but it¡¯s stuck.¡± The catgirl demonstrated her efforts by digging her nails them into the crevice where the chest¡¯s lid met its body, but it refused to open, no matter how hard she pushed.


    ¡°You won¡¯t find what you¡¯re looking for in there.¡±


    Claire grabbed the object right out of her hands and shoved it into a brand new pocket. She didn¡¯t like the way its outline remained visible, but it wasn¡¯t as if she had anywhere else to put it.


    ¡°Right, I think that was supposed to be your bedroom,¡± said the brunette, with an awkward laugh. ¡°What¡¯s in it anyway?¡±


    ¡°None of your business,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°My creepy uncle friend great grandpa thingy asked us to take it to one of Flitzegarde¡¯s temples,¡± explained Sylvia.


    The goddess of order was a popular deity, but Vel¡¯rulm had no architectural masterpiece dedicated to her reverence. Ryllians were not as keen on the gods and goddesses in her faction. They were still worshipped of course, as many of their concepts were useful in the day to day lives led by the general populace, and there was sure to be a temple or two in a larger metropolis, but the less populated cities had most of their structures constructed in the chaotic deities¡¯ names. Claire had even seen and subsequently ignored one of Flux¡¯s.


    ¡°Oh¡­ so personal items, I see.¡± Natalya frowned and crawled back inside of the half-collapsed building. ¡°I¡¯ll keep looking then.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother,¡± said Claire. Her hood was off and her ears were raised over her head, twitching, as she cast her gaze into the forest. ¡°One of the ones I killed said there were more of them.¡±


    Natalya¡¯s joints creaked as she slowly turned back around. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me that earlier? I¡¯ve been trying to sort through the rubble for gods know how long. You could have saved me all the trouble.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t feel like it. And they weren¡¯t here yet.¡±


    The first half of the response had the catgirl furrowing her brows and staring at the petty lyrkress with a mix of disbelief and annoyance; she had her arms half raised and her jaw half open, but snapped to attention at the mention of an enemy force. She looked around the forest, her eyes darting about before finally locking onto the group that Claire¡¯s ears had in their sights. Evidently, the cat could see them, even through the trees and foliage.


    ¡°How many did you kill?¡± asked the pervert.


    Claire scrolled through her log and quickly reviewed the previous week¡¯s entries. ¡°About ten. And they were weak. The highest was level 150.¡±


    ¡°Was that the one that had hair growing out of his tentacles?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°The one that kept getting mad we were calling him middle-aged.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Claire, as she recalled the supposed teenager.


    ¡°The two of you need to stop fooling around,¡± said Natalya. ¡°We need to work out a plan, preferably sooner rather than later.¡± She kept her hand on her blade as she glanced around the forest. ¡°There are a lot of them. Maybe thirty or forty.¡±


    While the warrior appeared concerned by the number of foes, Claire was unperturbed. She doubted that they would be significantly stronger than the ones she had already dispatched, and there weren¡¯t enough of them to drain her stamina.


    ¡°Wait a second! Why are they only showing up now? We¡¯ve been here for like a whole week!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Larger groups like this one tend to split up and camp out most of the time,¡± said Natalya. ¡°They stash their loot elsewhere and move around their territory, so it¡¯s harder to keep track of exactly where they are. The main base tends to be more of a front.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes into a glare. ¡°Why do you know so much about bandits?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a bounty hunter,¡± said the catgirl. ¡°And I had to deal with a lot of them, even before I became one.¡±


    ¡°Before you left the army?¡±


    The pervert smiled awkwardly as she drew her sword and got into the shadow of a nearby tree. ¡°Can we pretend you never heard that?¡±


    ¡°Acknowledged, Sergeant Natalya Vernelle,¡± said the lyrkress, with an internal smirk.


    ¡°Call me Lia.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    The refusal stemmed from the cat¡¯s so-called personality. She had no intention of addressing a lecher by anything as familiar as a nickname, especially not in public. Or private, for that matter.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be Lia. Please just don¡¯t call me Natalya,¡± said the cat, with a small frown. ¡°I can explain why later.¡±


    ¡°Uhm¡­ I hate to say it, but she¡¯s not gonna listen no matter how much you scream at her,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Claire likes getting stubborn for no reason.¡±


    ¡°I have reasons,¡± said the other halfbreed. ¡°Good ones.¡±


    ¡°Can we focus?¡± The bipedal feline¡¯s eyes almost seemed to glow in the dark as they swept across the forest again. ¡°They¡¯re almost here, and we need a plan.¡±


    ¡°Guard me. I¡¯ll hit them with lightning,¡± said Claire.


    The catgirl wrinkled her brow. ¡°You need to be guarded? I thought you could handle yourself in close quarters.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a mage. They¡¯ll break my brittle bones if they manage to get to me.¡±


    ¡°Uhhmmm¡­ Claire?¡± Sylvia tapped a paw against her mount¡¯s forehead as she whispered. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you were using a spear when you tried to beat her up yesterday.¡±


    ¡°I know. But I can still trick her.¡± The fox was given a light boop on the nose. ¡°Just watch.¡±


    ¡°Well uhmm¡­ okay, I guess.¡±


    When the pair turned back to the catgirl, they found her scratching her head with her brows furrowed and her tail twitching. She was mumbling under her breath, listing off the previous night''s events, one by one.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± she asked, after another moment of contemplation. ¡°Didn¡¯t you manage to land a few hits on me last night?¡±


    ¡°Because you tripped,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°W-well¡­ err¡­ r-right¡­¡± Natalya¡¯s cheeks reddened as she lowered her gaze and flicked her tail left and right. ¡°A-anyway, what about her?¡± She turned her eyes up on the fox, who was still mounted atop the moose snake. The catgirl slowly raised a hand and stepped forward, but pulled back again when she noticed the less-than-welcoming glare on Claire¡¯s face.


    ¡°Who me?¡± Sylvia pointed a paw to herself and tilted her head. ¡°I¡¯m just gonna watch. I don¡¯t really like fighting.¡±


    ¡°Then shouldn¡¯t you be somewhere safer?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°They have mages, and there''s no way I can draw all their fire. She¡¯s going to get hit!¡±


    ¡°She¡¯ll be fine,¡± repeated Claire.


    ¡°They¡¯re bandits, Claire! They¡¯re not going to care if they accidentally hit a fox! Some of them might even try it on purpose.¡±


    ¡°She. Will. Be. Fine.¡±


    A shiver shot down Natalya¡¯s spine as she was shot yet another glare. A tiny twinge of fear had her turning away, gulping, and drawing her blade. ¡°Fine. But don¡¯t blame me if she gets hurt.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s none of your business,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°She does realise that I don¡¯t get hurt that easily, right?¡± asked Sylvia, quietly.


    ¡°No. She doesn¡¯t,¡± said Claire. ¡°Just a regular woodfox, remember?¡±


    ¡°Right¡­ Oh yeah, that reminds me. I¡¯m technically not even a Llystletein Woodfox. I never told you my real race because I thought you¡¯d get suspicious.¡± Fiddling with her tail, the fox followed her words with an awkward laugh. ¡°I meant to tell you before we left, but I kept forgetting.¡±


    ¡°I was suspicious anyway,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Oh, shush!¡±


    While the two halfbreeds bickered, their feline companion spent her time with productivity at the forefront. She quickly located a half-erect rampart in the rubble, where they would be especially difficult for the intruders to spot, and flagged the others down.


    ¡°Over here! We can hide until they have their backs turned.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t need to hide,¡± said Claire. She completely ignored the catgirl¡¯s instruction and walked into a clearing where the sky was still visible overhead. Rising high enough to see past the other trees, she pinpointed the previous night¡¯s thunderclouds and pulled them back towards the fort. Two at a time, they gathered overhead, darkening the already gloomy forest and casting a torrent of rain down upon the outlaws approaching it.


    A magic circle appeared under foot as she flooded her circuits with mana. She even discharged a few extra points and wrapped her body in a faint, blue glow.


    It was, of course, an entirely pointless display. She didn¡¯t need to make herself known to strike, nor did she need to play with the weather. Grabbing a random thunderbolt was an extremely simple operation, costing only a few scant points of mana; she could have repeated it a thousand times without running dry, but she kept the farce going regardless.


    The less-than-covert action immediately drew the attackers¡¯ attention. They started lobbing projectiles at her from their positions within the trees. Balls of fire, streams of water, spears of stone, and blades of wind flew through the air, accompanied by an equal number of arrows and rocks, launched from bows and slings.


    Of all the attacks, none landed on target. She fluttered through the air like a swallow, weaving between them with ease. Those that came close were pushed away, forced to veer off course before finding their mark.


    Despite being struck by a much faster spell herself, just the previous night, Natalya didn¡¯t quite seem to catch onto the bluff. Half panicked, she dashed into the fray and started picking off the various archers and mages, as if to defend the moose. To Claire¡¯s surprise, the swordswoman was much more capable than she had assumed, given the flow of their first encounter.


    She moved through the trees at high speed, dancing quickly from one caster to the next. Each attack was a series of quick flashes, a seamless chain of stabs and cuts that gored every bandit within reach of her blade. Her combat style was eye-catching, albeit not in the way that left the beholder impressed. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for the catgirl to free her hands and grab her blade with her mouth instead. She appeared to run faster on all fours, and dashing around with her weapon between her teeth was what gave her the power to cleave through the armoured scyphs¡¯ defenses.


    Claire waited until Natalya killed about a third of the group before unleashing a torrent of magic. She grabbed a bolt with each finger and crashed all of them into the battlefield at once. Every strike hit at least one target, with the odd outlier hitting as many as three.


    Some of the outlaws tried to flee before they could be struck, but Claire reeled them back in as she would fish on a line and forced them to fry, as had all their companions.


    ¡°See?¡± She descended as the final bandit fell and spoke to the cat she had left on the ground. ¡°I told you. Hiding is pointless.¡± Flux¡¯s voice was still firing through her mind, but the log entries did little to impede her thoughts.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean it was the right thing to do,¡± complained the cat. ¡°Staying hidden would have given us an easier win.¡±


    ¡°The only spells I know summon storms,¡± lied Claire. ¡°And I need to be out in the open.¡±


    ¡°What about the ice spells you used last night!?¡±


    ¡°Those don¡¯t always work properly.¡±


    The fib was met with a confused wrinkle of the brow.


    ¡°Sometimes, it hails when I cast a spell that¡¯s supposed to make it rain. That¡¯s the only time I can control the ice.¡±


    The statement was not entirely untruthful. The clouds she pulled would rain down small bits of ice if she flew too close to them whilst radiating cold air, and her racial abilities allowed her to seize control of the frosty fragments and manipulate them however she saw fit.


    ¡°I may not be a mage, but I¡¯m fairly certain that isn¡¯t how that works,¡± said Natalya. ¡°Spells are supposed to be consistent.¡±


    ¡°Well mine aren¡¯t.¡± Claire walked over to one of the scyphs and picked up its corpse. To her annoyance, she had to bend over, as to not reveal her force magic.


    Frowning, she tore the tentacles out of its meter-wide bell and dumped the rest of the bleeding dom¡¯s contents. The same action was repeated several times. She gutted a large number of them, taking only their heads and placing them inside the first she had butchered; the material¡¯s flexibility made the scyph¡¯s boneless skull into something of a convenient bag.


    ¡°W-what are you doing?¡± asked Natalya.


    ¡°I think she said something about decapitating them and keeping their heads earlier, for proof or something,¡± Claire didn¡¯t respond immediately, so Sylvia answered in her place. ¡°Oh, and I think she¡¯s stealing their stuff, while she¡¯s at it.¡± The second statement came as the lyrkress pocketed the coins she retrieved from inside a jellyfish¡¯s wallet. Not all of the bandits had them, but the ones that did made it obvious. Visible leather pouches floated around inside of their heads, alongside their various organs.


    Natalya sighed. ¡°You¡¯ve never done any bounty hunting work before, have you?¡± She plodded through the corpses and approached one near the center of the pack. ¡°We don¡¯t need to prove that we killed all of them, just their boss.¡±


    ¡°How can you tell that one¡¯s the boss?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°He¡¯s the one I saw on the ad,¡± she said. She looked towards the sorceress, whose head was tilted to an almost excessive degree, before smiling and continuing her explanation. ¡°They had a sketch of his face on the job board.¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t have a face,¡± said the mage. As far as she could tell, scyphs didn¡¯t have eyes, mouths, or noses. They were quite literally nothing but bells and tentacles.


    ¡°Of course he does. It¡¯s right here.¡± The catgirl lifted the corpse off the ground and pointed to a spot no different from any other.


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t have a face,¡± repeated Claire. ¡°Right, Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t really see one either¡­¡± said the fox. ¡°But I think I know how she can tell that it was their boss.¡± She hopped off her mount, strayed over the corpse, and prodded it with one of her front paws. ¡°He isn¡¯t as crispy as his friends, so he was probably a little stronger.¡±


    ¡°Is this your first time seeing a scyph? I know they can be a little hard to tell apart, but it¡¯s still pretty obvious if you look carefully,¡± said the catgirl.


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen them before,¡± said Claire. ¡°And it¡¯s not obvious. They all look the same.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, they all look the same to me too,¡± said Sylvia. She poked the boss before suddenly perking up and looking to her right. ¡°I think one of them¡¯s still alive.¡±


    When Claire followed her gaze, she found a jellyfish whose legs were still twitching. ¡°I can fix that.¡± She turned her eyes towards the sky and narrowed them as she looked for the right bolt to grab.


    ¡°Wait,¡± said Natalya. ¡°We can make him tell us where they keep their loot.¡±


    ¡°Experience,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Think about the money,¡± said Natalya. ¡°We might be able to cover a few weeks or even months of living expenses if we keep him alive.¡±


    Frowning, Claire released the electric impulse she captured and lowered her tail. ¡°...Fine.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what the heck!¡± shouted Sylvia. ¡°How come you never listen when I tell you not to kill things!?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re a dog,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a dog! I¡¯m a fox!¡± The pupper¡¯s anguished cry echoed throughout the forest, for all to hear, and her favourite snake-moose to ignore.

 Chapter 148 - The Thunder God’s Temple III

    Chapter 148 - The Thunder God¡¯s Temple III


    ¡°I ain¡¯t telling.¡±


    The scyph grunted the rejection with a racially uncharacteristic certainty as he struggled to break free of his bindings. It was already his seventh refusal. Each had come with a deep laceration to the bell, but violence had done little to encourage a change in attitude. He stayed tight-lipped, no matter how many times he was struck by his tormentor¡¯s blade.


    Still, the catgirl repeated her pattern of attack. She slashed at him again with her rapier¡¯s edge, goring him and spilling a thick, slimy liquid. Though transparent, the blood was so viscous that it clumped before hitting the ground. ¡°Stop being stubborn. Vik Sinnue is dead. You gain nothing from guarding his treasure.¡±


    ¡°You may be right.¡± The scyph laughed like a pirate as he brought his tentacles to the rope holding his bell in place, but his limbs were swatted away before he could yank the knots out of shape.


    ¡°Natalya.¡± Claire pushed the incompetent interrogator out of the way with a pointed branch as she stepped forward to take her place. ¡°Let me.¡±


    ¡°Please call me Lia.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Why not? I¡¯m asking nicely.¡± The catgirl twisted her lips into a frown as she crossed her arms and furrowed her brow.


    ¡°Because I said so.¡±


    ¡°Could you please at least give me a reason?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°See! I told you she was stubborn!¡± Sylvia giggled as she looked between the lyrkress and her latest victim. ¡°You know, she¡¯s actually gotten a lot better now. She was super prickly when we met. Now, she at least kinda listens. Sometimes.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not stubborn.¡± Claire jabbed a finger into the side of the fox¡¯s cheek and slowly pushed her off her head. ¡°I¡¯m very reasonable.¡±


    ¡°Then call me something else, please.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ You see¡­¡± Natalya pursed her lips as she put her hands behind her back and looked away. She took a deep breath, then another, and another before finally turning back towards the inquisitor and opening her mouth. ¡°The thing is¡­ I¡¯m trying to lie low.¡±


    ¡°Then pick a better alias,¡± said Claire. She was almost tempted to bring a hand to her face and sigh. ¡°Idiot.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s different enough,¡± said Natalya.


    ¡°No. It isn¡¯t.¡± The lyrkress prodded the cat in the face with her stick. ¡°It sounds like a nickname. They¡¯ll have no trouble finding you. You¡¯ll be executed in a heartbeat.¡±


    ¡°E-executed?¡± The warrior took half a step back, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process. ¡°Why would I be executed!?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what armies do to deserters. Desertion is treason.¡±


    ¡°Where the heck did you get that idea!? Deserters never get executed unless they start working for the enemy! Not even Cadrians are that barbaric!¡± she shouted. ¡°And how did you know I was a deserter!?¡±


    ¡°Why else would a soldier want to lie low?¡± Again, the cat was abused by the stick. ¡°And Cadrians aren¡¯t barbaric.¡±


    Natalya scratched the back of her head. ¡°I admit that the first part seems pretty reasonable, but Cadrians are definitely barbaric.¡±


    ¡°Oh wait, Claire! I think I figured it out¡± chirped Sylvia. ¡°She¡¯s not a deserter! She¡¯s a spy on a secret mission!¡±


    ¡°Impossible.¡± It took only a fraction of a second for the fox¡¯s theory to be rejected.


    ¡°A-are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°W-what makes you say that?¡± asked Natalya. ¡°For all you know, I could be Paunse¡¯s best secret agent.¡±


    ¡°Secret agents aren¡¯t stupid.¡±


    ¡°Hah! Looks like I ain¡¯t the only one that was thinking you was maybe a dumbass.¡± The tree-bound bandit wheezed as the brunette¡¯s jaw dropped like a rock. ¡°Maybe fix yourself before asking me for shit.¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± said Claire, as she broke her stick on his dome.


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±


    After glaring at the scyph, and sending a chill down his nonexistent spine, the lyrkress turned to the furball on her shoulder and gave her chin a scratch. ¡°Why do you even know what spies are? Wasn¡¯t Darkwood Hollow the only place you ever lived?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m super smart, duh!¡± The fox stood up on her hind legs, put her front paws on her hips, and puffed out her chest.


    ¡°I know. Now tell me the real reason.¡±


    ¡°Why does it feel kinda like you¡¯re making fun of me even though you¡¯re agreeing?¡±


    ¡°No reason.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh¡­¡± Sylvia narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but continued along nonetheless. ¡°Well uhmm¡­ anyway, I read about it in one of Al¡¯s books. There was this one about this super cool guy with all these secret gadgets and stuff.¡±


    ¡°I thought his books would all be like Shblbbhsh and Clkclkc.¡±


    ¡°Oh uhmmm¡­ they kinda are. There were a few weird parts here and there, but it wasn¡¯t that bad!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why I assumed otherwise.¡± Rolling her eyes, the half-snake picked another stick off the ground with her tail and tested its flexibility before passing it to her hands and pointing it at the catgirl.


    ¡°I¡¯m calling you by your name. It¡¯s common enough. And it won¡¯t get you killed.¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t!¡± shouted the catgirl. ¡°They might not kill me, but they¡¯ll fine me for everything I¡¯m worth and then some!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°Well you should! I won¡¯t be able to pay for your lodgings if I¡¯m up to my neck in debt!¡± The catgirl paused for a moment to breathe; screaming at the top of her lungs had left her completely out of breath. ¡°J-just¡­ think about it this way. We¡¯ll have to sleep in the same room if our party¡¯s finances collapse.¡±


    The rogue pulled her hood over her eyes and allowed a small frown to surface. No answer was given until she turned away. ¡°...Fine.¡±


    Natalya¡ªLia¡ªbreathed a small sigh of relief, but she wasn¡¯t the first to react. Sylvia began shouting before she could offer her thanks. ¡°Woah¡­ you actually managed to get her to give up again!?¡± cried the fox. ¡°What the heck, Claire! You never listen to me! How come you¡¯re listening to her!? This better not be because Al¡¯s starting to get to you!¡±


    ¡°He isn¡¯t,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°I¡¯m being rational. I don¡¯t want any perverts near me while I sleep.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ good point. I guess it would be kinda unsafe, huh?¡± said the fox.


    ¡°Why do the two of you keep insisting that I¡¯m a pervert?¡± asked Lia. Her words were as devoid of energy as her slumped shoulders.


    The sad, tired question was followed by a moment of silence. ¡°Because you are.¡± Having exchanged a quick glance, the two halfbreeds spoke in perfect unison.


    ¡°I am not!¡±


    ¡°You wanted me to eat you,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°N-no I didn¡¯t.¡± Lia¡¯s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as she brought her hands together and twiddled her thumbs. ¡°Well¡­ maybe I did. Just a little. I mean, it doesn¡¯t really seem like all that bad of an idea¡­ wait! What are you making me say!?¡±


    ¡°See? Pervert.¡± She pulled her ears into her hood, covered her chest with her arms, and turned away.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay Lia!¡± Sylvia hopped over to the catgirl¡¯s shoulder and patted her on the back. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a pervert. It was just one time. This is all a misunderstanding¡­¡± She continued shooting glances in Claire¡¯s direction as she spoke. Her blush deepened each time she did, and she started to fidget, rubbing her knees together and moving her shoulders almost uncontrollably.


    Log Entry 5402


    Charm Catgirl has reached level 14.


    ¡°Stop looking at me.¡± Claire prodded the catgirl with her second stick and forced her to face another direction. Only after she was sure she was safe did she return her gaze to the scyph. The bandit was silent. He had been trying to make himself scarce ever since she first snapped at him, in hopes that he would be forgotten, but to no avail.


    Inspecting him more carefully, she found that he was still perfectly healthy. Half the cuts that marred his bell were already healed, and those that remained were closing themselves up at a visible rate. His vitality was abnormally high. Damaging him was unlikely to elicit a response, unless said damage was psychological, permanent, or both.


    ¡°Nata¡ª¡± Cutting herself short, she glanced over her shoulder and called for the offender in question. ¡°Pervert.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a pervert.¡±


    ¡°Then don¡¯t answer to it next time,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°What do scyphs hate?¡±


    ¡°What do they hate?¡± Natalya blinked. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you mean.¡±


    ¡°What do I need to do? To make him feel like he¡¯s been dishonoured?¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ sorry, but I¡¯m not really sure.¡± She scratched her head with one hand and pushed herself to her feet with the other. ¡°It¡¯s not something I¡¯ve ever looked into, and to be honest I¡¯m not sure I would tell you, even if I had.¡±


    ¡°And why not?¡± Claire narrowed her eyes.


    ¡°Because it wouldn¡¯t be the right thing to do.¡±


    ¡°You were torturing him a moment ago.¡±


    The catgirl met her gaze. ¡°That was standard procedure. I was getting information out of him, not threatening his dignity.¡± Her cheeks reddened as she maintained eye contact, but she didn¡¯t look away.


    ¡°Don¡¯t say it.¡± Claire wrinkled up her nose and scowled. ¡°I¡¯m going to stab you.¡±


    Log Entry 5403


    Charm Catgirl has reached level 15.


    The threat only changed the catgirl¡¯s behaviour for the worse. Her blush grew deeper, and she even started to fidget.


    ¡°I hate you.¡± The lyrkress pulled her hood further over her eyes, grit her teeth, and slowly took a breath. She managed to do away with Alfred¡¯s thoughts before they crowded out her own, but while her sanity survived the encounter, the stick in her hands was not as lucky. Its handle was crushed to bits, and the rest of it hardly fared any better. A crack ran all the way up its length as it fell in front of her and rolled towards the captive jellyfish.


    Her eyes traced its path and eventually settled on the invertebrate, who was trembling for reasons completely unlike the ones that had the catgirl in a fluster.


    ¡°H-hey, I¡¯m innocent, don¡¯t take it out on me.¡± The shiver that ran through his spineless body was followed by a slow shake of the bell. He surely would have slowly backed away, had he not been tied to a tree.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    She jabbed a finger into the side of his head and ground its tip through the thin, slippery layer of skin that protected his innards. The wound itself was negligible, hardly deep enough to mar his flesh, but the bee venom applied to her nails had him howling in agony.


    ¡°Arrgghhh! What the hell!¡± he shouted. ¡°Am I burning!? What¡¯s happening!?¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    Again, he was jabbed, and again, he reacted with a violent start. His bell writhed to and fro as he desperately tried to get away from her, but alas, he was forced to suffer a third sting.


    ¡°At least make a demand, damn it!¡±


    ¡°You already know what we want.¡±


    Without waiting for him to answer, she slammed the bottom of her fist into the top of his head. The blow was powerful enough to deform his cranium and leave a dent even in his elastic flesh. He didn¡¯t have a brain to rattle, but his consciousness was taken regardless.


    Claire poked him an extra two or three times to confirm that he was really out cold before turning back towards the others. ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Mhm?¡±


    ¡°Work your magic.¡±


    ¡°You want me to give him nightmares?¡± blinked the fox. ¡°Well uhmmmm¡­ okay, I guess.¡± She stood up on her hind legs, placed a hand against her chest, and got ready to sing.


    ¡°Not that.¡± A pinch to the cheek stopped the fox in her tracks. ¡°Your other magic.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Check his memories.¡±


    ¡°Oh! That¡¯s what you meant!¡± Giggling, she leapt to the ground and plodded over the victim-to-be. ¡°I forgot you knew I could do that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡± Claire pinched the critter¡¯s cheeks and gave her nose a poke.


    ¡°Oh uhm¡­ there¡¯s actually a bit of a problem. I can look through his head and see what he saw and stuff, but I can¡¯t actually read minds so I won¡¯t know where anything is. I could probably figure it out if I knew this place as well as I know the hollow, but we¡¯ve barely been here a week.¡±


    ¡°Just try.¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡± She leaned forward as she spoke and placed both paws on the jellyfish¡¯s oversized head. ¡°Uhmmm¡­. Yeah, I dunno. I can see some places and stuff, but I don¡¯t recognize any of them.¡±


    ¡°Useless fox,¡± mumbled the lyrkress.


    ¡°What the heck! It¡¯s not even my fault!¡± shouted Sylvia.


    ¡°Did you just say that you could see memories?¡± asked Lia, after she got back on her feet.


    ¡°Yup!¡± chimed the fox. ¡°It¡¯s a little hard to control so I can¡¯t always see exactly what I want, but it mostly works.¡±


    ¡°Can you show them to other people?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I think so, but you¡¯ll have to sit through some night terrors and stuff.¡±


    ¡°N-night terrors?¡± The cat gulped. ¡°Aren¡¯t those the things that make people scream at night?¡±


    ¡°Yup!¡±


    ¡°How well do you know the area?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Well enough to get around,¡± said the cat.


    Her face turned pale as she responded, right as a small smile appeared on the lyrkress¡¯ lips. ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°On it!¡± The vixen took a deep breath and cleared her throat. ¡°Good night, Lia! And umm¡­ I know you¡¯re not gonna have any, but sweet dreams!¡±


    ¡°Wait! I haven¡¯t agreed ye¡ª¡±


    The catgirl waved her arms in panic and spoke at an almost unintelligible speed, but it was too late. Her legs crumpled, and her mind was whisked away to dreamland¡¯s worst neighbourhood. It took no more than two seconds for her to start snoring, her light brown tail swishing left and right each time she drew breath.


    ¡°Uhm¡­ oops.¡± The fox blinked. Thrice.


    ¡°Too late now.¡± Claire smiled before turning back to the unconscious jellyfish. ¡°While you¡¯re at it. Can you give him some night terrors too?¡±


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ sure, I guess. But why?¡±


    ¡°I feel like listening to you sing. It¡¯ll help with this stupid curse.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Sylvia smiled, softly, as she allowed the lyrkress to scoop her up in her arms. ¡°One fresh batch of night terrors, coming right up!¡±


    ___


    ¡°No! Not the oven!¡±


    Lia shrieked incomprehensibly as she violently uncurled and leapt to her feet. Her brow was dripping with sweat, her eyes were bloodshot, and her mind was still paralyzed with fear. It took the poor cat a desperate gasp and a half to realise that she had finally escaped the fabricated nightmare. Slowly, she brought a shivering hand to her chest and breathed a sigh of relief.


    ¡°Thank the gods... It¡¯s finally over¡­¡±


    Rubbing her eyes, she focused her vision on the oddly blue world around her. Her heart was still pounding and she was still short of breath, but she was at least calm enough to conclude that she was inside a large bubble. Claire and Sylvia were situated just outside of it, working away at a basket full of bread. She had no idea where they had acquired the food or its vessel, but neither looked to be enjoying the meal. The chimera was chewing at it with her eyes empty, and the fox was burying a half-eaten piece next to a nearby tree.


    ¡°Oh, hey Lia! You¡¯re up!¡± The watery veil around her vanished as Sylvia looked up from her pit and waved. So adorable was the gesture that the catgirl almost forgot that the fox was the source of her suffering. Almost.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t ever do that to me again!¡± She brought an unsteady hand to her damaged spectacles and adjusted them as she made the demand. The tentacle-faced horror unleashed upon her in her sleep was still fresh in her mind. She could still see its awful, sanity-sapping smirk, burned straight into the back of her brain.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­¡± The fox slumped her shoulders and drooped her tail, with the latter falling all the way to the ground. ¡°I thought you were only asking because you wanted me to show you. I didn¡¯t mean to uhm¡­ totally ruin your entire morning for no reason.¡±


    ¡°W-well, it¡¯s not like there¡¯s no reason,¡± backpedalled the cat. ¡°The bald guy with wings and an octopus for a face was terrifying, but it told me quite a bit.¡±


    ¡°Do you know where the treasure is?¡± asked Claire.


    The catgirl paused for a moment to bring a hand to her chin. ¡°I think I know where two of them are, but I have no idea about the other five.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s better than me!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I don¡¯t know where any of them are.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay. You did your part.¡± The chimera lifted the fox away from her burrow, set her down in her lap, and stroked her fuzzy coat. ¡°You were very useful. For once.¡±


    ¡°Hey! That last part was totally unnecessary!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Wait a second.¡± Lia tilted her head as she swept her eyes over the other humanoid¡¯s frame. Claire immediately covered her body with her hands, but the thin limbs did nothing to stop the cat from achieving her goals. ¡°Weren¡¯t you supposed to have a tail? Or maybe more legs?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Lia frowned. ¡°Well, I won¡¯t pry if it¡¯s personal, but can you at least explain what lyrkresses are?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Claire crossed her arms. ¡°Because I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Was that supposed to be a joke?¡± The Paunsean cocked a brow as she took a piece of bread from the basket. Putting it to her mouth, she found herself not entirely unsatisfied. It was a little dry and stale, but better than the rations she was accustomed to.


    ¡°That¡¯s not it. She¡¯s only been one for like three wee¡ª¡±


    The fox¡¯s mouth was pinched shut as the strange chimera breathed a tired sigh. ¡°Don¡¯t tell people things for no reason.¡±


    ¡°But it isn¡¯t even all that important!¡± cried the canine.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean it isn¡¯t private.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ Well, congratulations on your second ascension.¡±


    ¡°Not second,¡± said Claire, after an awkward pause. ¡°First.¡±


    ¡°Wait, first? But¡­¡±


    ¡°First,¡± repeated the lyrkress.


    ¡°Then what level are you?¡± Lia scrunched up her brow. ¡°I¡¯m just over 300, but some of my classes are a little higher.¡±


    In any other context, it would have been a rude question to ask, but the swordswoman had posed it because she knew that their levels could not have been withheld. Going through the party-making process would allow them to see an extremely abbreviated version of each others¡¯ status.


    ¡°Almost 250.¡±


    The catgirl looked up from her bread and slowly swallowed the dried piece stuck in her throat. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that mean you¡¯ve been gaining over fifty levels a week?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s quick. Were you blessed by Vella? Or maybe Archimess?¡±


    The war goddess¡¯ blessing was known to make newer fighters grow rapidly, so that they could join their predecessors on the battlefield and unpredictably turn the tides with feats of heroism beyond reason. In a similar vein, the god of mathematics and scholarly pursuits would often boost those that showed promise, so that they could further develop their fields of expertise.


    ¡°None of your business.¡±


    With a dismissive glare, Claire stood up from her seat, turned back into a lyrkress, and walked towards the edge of the camp, where the captive scyph was starting to stir. He was moving around and groaning, but her fist slammed into his face before he could wake and sent him right back into a deep, deep slumber.


    ¡°Do we still need him, Pervert?¡± she asked.


    Natalya tried to ignore the blatant call for her attention, but even with her eyes averted, she could feel the lyrkress¡¯ gaze boring into the side of her skull. Eventually, the catgirl gulped, gave in, and turned back towards the fierce but empty glare. ¡°I¡¯m not a pervert.¡± Claire¡¯s eyes were cold, but she stayed firm. ¡°And please call me Lia.¡±


    ¡°Just answer the question.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ right.¡± The brunette closed her eyes and pulled up the recent, traumatic memory. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. Let¡¯s take him back to tow¡ª¡±


    She was cut off by a loud, violent squish. Like an axe, the half-moose¡¯s leg cleaved through the side of the scyph¡¯s head and split his body in two.


    ¡°Claire! What the heck! You got his blood all over me!¡± shouted Sylvia, who was still in the other girl¡¯s arms.


    ¡°I can wash it off.¡± The horse extended a finger and fired a stream of water, but the fox shook her head.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, I¡¯ll just clean myself with a bubble.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait! Why did you just do that!?¡± shouted Lia.


    ¡°Because giving the experience to an executioner would be a waste.¡± The lyrkress sat back down without so much as cleaning off the limb and continued munching away at her meal.


    ¡°I doubt he was worth much. He was half your level at most,¡± she complained, ¡°we could have traded him in and made ourselves a few extra copper pieces.¡±


    ¡°Slavery is outlawed in Vel¡¯khan,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°The city would have taken him off our hands¡± explained the catgirl. ¡°The Vel¡¯khanese love their public executions, and even small towns can make a pretty penny off a one-criminal-show.¡± She acted out the motion of an overhead swing, raising both arms and bringing them down on the empty space in front of her.


    ¡°And you said Cadrians were barbaric.¡±


    ¡°Cadrians are barbaric,¡± mumbled the cat, ¡°but enough about that. Let¡¯s hash out a plan.¡±


    ¡°A plan? What for?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°We have a lot of things to do. We have to head to one of the towns in order to register our party, shop for supplies, find the rest of their loot, figure out if we need any more party members, and a whole slew of other things.¡±


    ¡°Why would we need to shop for supplies?¡± blinked the fox.


    ¡°Well¡­ I think I might¡¯ve accidentally destroyed most of your equipment. I couldn¡¯t find anything when I was looking through the fort¡¯s ruins, so I thought to make it up to you.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ that¡¯s really nice of you!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But I don¡¯t think we had anything that mattered.¡±


    ¡°We did,¡± said Claire. ¡°Your clothes.¡±


    ¡°W-wait a second!¡± The vixen spun around and rummaged through her tail, only to turn pale soon after. ¡°Oh crap¡­¡± She still had the dress that Claire had torn the previous evening, but none of her other elf-sized clothes were anywhere to be found.


    ¡°See?¡±


    ¡°I think I might not be following right¡­¡± Lia¡¯s tail twitched as she looked between the pair. ¡°Are you saying that Sylvia¡¯s clothes are the only things you two had?¡±


    ¡°Yup!¡± chirped the half-elf.


    ¡°Since when do foxes wear clothes?¡± asked the catgirl.


    ¡°Since always,¡± said the furball.


    ¡°That¡¯s not what you said last time.¡± Claire picked up her hat and pulled its cheeks. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say that wearing clothes would make you a pervert?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡°


    ¡°Right after I blew up Borrok Peak.¡±


    ¡°I was talking about stockings back then, not clothes! That doesn¡¯t count! Stockings are basically just lingerie!¡±


    W-what about the rest of your supplies? Like your equipment, your camping gear, and your food?¡±


    Claire blinked. ¡°Why would we have any of that?¡± The question was spoken in the same perfectly flat tone as usual, but the accompanying confusion was made clear with a cock of the head.


    ¡°W-what do you mean, why!? How were the two of you adventuring without any supplies?¡±


    Claire¡¯s neck moved a whole two and a half degrees. ¡°Normally.¡±


    ¡°Normal adventurers have supplies. How were you getting your food and water?¡±


    ¡°We made it with magic, duh!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Now you¡¯re just pulling my tail. Magic can¡¯t just make food out of nothing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on Lia, don¡¯t be so silly! Magic makes stuff out of mana,¡± said the fox, with a giggle.


    ¡°I can¡¯t say I¡¯ve ever heard of any schools of magic like that, but fine. What about camping gear? Don¡¯t you need a tent, at least? Or maybe something to help start a fire?¡±


    Again, the question was met with a head tilt. ¡°Why would we need a tent?¡± asked Claire.


    Lia brought a hand to her temples and gave them a slow, tired rub. ¡°I¡¯m starting to think that this whole party thing might not be all that great an idea after all.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry! Claire might be kinda derpy, but she¡¯s a good person, deep down!¡±


    ¡°I am not derpy,¡± said the half-moose, with a tug of the cheek. ¡°I¡¯m fiercely intelligent.¡±


    ¡°You keep saying that, but that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s true!¡±


    Claire pouted and gave her fuzzy friend another, slightly more aggressive cheek tug. Lia raised a brow at how far the fox¡¯s cheeks were stretched, but both the altercation¡¯s participants broke into a giggling fit before she could voice her concerns, with the larger halfbreed pulling the smaller one into a tight embrace.


    ¡°Uhm¡­ So about the plan¡­¡±


    She was half expecting to be ignored, but Claire answered her immediately. ¡°Let¡¯s head back to town first. So we can get all of the shopping and administrative work done. It¡¯ll take a lot of time. And we won¡¯t have to camp out.¡±


    ¡°But what about the rest of the loot? Someone else might get to it first, if we aren¡¯t quick about it.¡± Lia walked around the camp and started picking up her things.


    ¡°No one else knows where it is,¡± said the mage. ¡°We can retrieve it tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡±


    Lia had wanted to start by cleaning out the bandits¡¯ camps, but the lyrkress¡¯ idea was more efficient. Both hideouts were to the east, with the further one located just outside Farenlight¡¯s Den. The ancient dungeon wasn¡¯t exactly anything novel, but it was challenging enough for access to be restricted. The perfect place to put their new party to the test.

 Chapter 149 - The Thunder God’s Temple IV

    Chapter 149 - The Thunder God¡¯s Temple IV


    Claire stuck out an arm and stopped her newest travelling companion from walking out from behind the carriage in front of them. Without a sound, she brought a finger to her lips and motioned for Lia to lie low. But while the catgirl was a soldier, she was not a Cadrian elite; the secret hand signs prompted not a nod of understanding, but a confused tilt of the head.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± she asked.


    The caravan¡¯s driver reacted to the voice with a start. He turned around, eyed the trio suspiciously, and pushed his turberus with a flick of the whip. Making sure that they didn¡¯t follow, he entered the checkpoint by his lonesome. Lia was unbothered by the interaction. She returned his gaze, smiled, and even waved, all while her lyrkrian co-conspirator secretly fumed.


    ¡°You were supposed to keep quiet.¡± Pulling her hand back beneath her cloak, the moose-snake glared at the feline, her lips twisted in displeasure. ¡°We could have followed him. It would have saved us the trouble of dealing with the guards.¡±


    ¡°Trouble?¡± The domestic shorthair narrowed her eyes suspiciously. ¡°Claire¡­ What did you do?¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t my fault,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°But we should use a different gate.¡±


    ¡°You know what? I won¡¯t ask. Just follow me, stay quiet, and look pretty.¡± With a small smile, the catgirl took the lead and entered the checkpoint, right as the man in front of them was cleared.


    ¡°Halt. Identify yourselves.¡± Security was more robust than it had been during Claire¡¯s first visit. There were four more men for a total of six, and each was fully armed and armoured. But though geared for a greater threat, the guards themselves were lax. Even the one who asked for their identities had his hand off the blade strapped to his waste.


    ¡°We¡¯re bounty hunters.¡± Lia pulled a scroll out of her pouch and passed it to the soldier.


    He was far from careful with its inspection. He casually raised it to the light and squinted at the stamp adorning its top left corner before passing it right back. ¡°Seems like it. Kill anyone worth mentioning?¡±


    ¡°Just one.¡± The catgirl presented the bag she was holding and opened it for the guard to see.


    Put off by the smell, the kelpfin warrior grimaced and reeled back. He waved at the air in front of him with one fin and covered his snout with the other before leaning in and checking its contents again. ¡°Dear Krebb, is that who I think it is?¡±


    ¡°Vik Sinnue, in the flesh,¡± said Lia, with a wide, toothy grin.


    ¡°With just the three of you?¡± he said, as he looked over their group. ¡°Great work. Gotta say, I¡¯m impressed.¡± Laughing, the sharkman extended a fin and thumped the catgirl on the back. ¡°Wait, are you that girl that everyone¡¯s been talking about lately? The one that¡¯s working for Silkroad.¡±


    Lia didn¡¯t openly acknowledge or disparage the claim, and only flashed a brief smile.


    ¡°I thought you hunted alone, but I guess that¡¯s on me for believing the rumours. Anyway, great work. Lost a few friends in the force to him myself, when we last tried to raid the place. Might¡¯ve been different underwater, but we couldn¡¯t win against the numbers on land.¡± He smiled wistfully as he hobbled back to his post. ¡°Now I¡¯m not about to keep you any longer, come in, come in. I¡¯m sure everyone will be delighted to hear that the job is finally done.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll make sure to report by the end of the day,¡± said Lia.


    Smiling amicably again, the catgirl walked right through the open gate with her companions in tow. Neither the lyrkress nor the fox were questioned or even brought to attention; the guards had treated them as a part of the girl¡¯s entourage and even looked at them with respect¡ªan interaction that had Claire furrowing her brow.


    ¡°See? I told you,¡± said Lia. ¡°Quick and painless.¡±


    ¡°Yeah! I thought we were gonna get into another fight for sure,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Claire was already ready to knock them out again.¡±


    ¡°No I wasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yeah you were! I saw you clench your fists and everything!¡±


    The lamia averted her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t been here for long, but I¡¯ve already got a bit of a reputation,¡± said Lia. She turned a few corners before stopping in front of a shop with a sign resembling a wolf. Unlike many of the other local establishments, its storefront was made entirely of glass; all its wares were on full display for any passersby to see.


    ¡°Wait uhmm¡­ Lia? Why are we in front of a pet store?¡± squeaked Sylvia, as she stared down an over-enthused dog. The panting mutt was wagging its tail with such vigour it almost looked like the propeller was about to fall off.


    ¡°Weren¡¯t we going to get you some new clothes?¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t explain why we¡¯re at a pet shop,¡± said the fox. ¡°I don¡¯t wear pet clothes, I wear person clothes!¡±


    Lia scratched the back of her head. ¡°The local tailors might have had something if we were in Paunse, but there aren¡¯t too many cat-siths here in Vel¡¯khan.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go inside,¡± said Claire. ¡°We might be able to find something that fits.¡±


    ¡°Wait! Stop! Claire!¡± Sylvia grabbed her mount by the ears as she walked through the open door. ¡°You¡¯re giving her the wrong idea!¡± Nothing she did appeared to slow the lyrkress down, so she turned to the cat instead and squeaked in protest. ¡°I don¡¯t need fox clothes! I need elf clothes! And I only need to wear them when I transform!¡±


    ¡°You can transform?¡± asked Lia.


    ¡°Ignore her. She¡¯s being weird.¡±


    Claire grabbed the fox, pulled her into her arms, and walked into the store. The pet protested by kicking her in the gut, but the playful blows were easily ignored. Even with her stomach under siege, she was able to go about her business and browse the seemingly random assortment of toys, bowls, and brushes that lined the store¡¯s shelves.


    Ignoring the would-be essentials, she walked up to one of the far shelves and grabbed a bright red choker. ¡°Let¡¯s get you this.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Why would I want a collar?¡± asked Sylvia. Seeing an opening, she darted away from the other girl¡¯s weakened grasp and returned to her usual spot on her head.


    ¡°You can wear it in all three forms. When you¡¯re a fairy, you can strap it over your shoulders. Like a bandolier. And when you¡¯re an elf, you can wear it like a bracelet.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s that gonna help cover anything!?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. But it¡¯s cute.¡±


    Sensing a gaze, Claire looked towards the counter, where she found the shop¡¯s owner, an old kelpfin man, furrowing his brow and scratching the back of his head. Rather than calling out to the strange pair, the retiree-to-be opted instead to clean out his ears whilst mumbling something or other about overwork and auditory hallucinations.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Though they entertained themselves with the various products out on display, the pair left the store without making any purchases. Tal¡¯ihir was warm year round; the man had no dog clothes in stock. A shame, really. Though Sylvia had many a vehement protest to the contrary, the other halfbreed was certain that she could have convinced the canine to try at least one set on.


    After departing the pet shop, the pair explained the fox¡¯s circumstances to the confused catgirl and made for the local tailor instead. The portly old elven lady that owned the store was caught off guard by the fox-elf¡¯s transformation, but happily agreed to produce matching elven garments in the half-fox¡¯s two sizes. Both articles were prepared immediately, with the larger already being in stock, and the smaller requiring only a few minutes to craft. Before long, the foxgirl pranced out of the store with her tail following behind her.


    ¡°Thanks for the dress, Lia!¡± Sylvia twirled around as she stepped out into the busy street. She almost ran into three different groups, but never made contact. The four-eared menace would always dance out of the way at the last second, giggling as she left each group more startled than the last.


    ¡°You¡¯re very welcome,¡± said the catgirl, with a smile. ¡°I think that should be it for the shopping. All that¡¯s left now is getting our party registered, but we can put that off if you¡¯re feeling tired. It¡¯s been a long day.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± said Claire. ¡°Which temple?¡±


    ¡°I was thinking of visiting Tzaarkus¡¯, but I¡¯m okay with any of them.¡±


    ¡°Which god was that again?¡± asked the lyrkress.


    Paunse, the country of catgirls and cat siths, was not one of Cadria¡¯s neighbours. The vast kingdom of Kryddar stood between them, and the Cadria-Kryddar tensions meant that the borders were often closed to those that came from the mothlands¡¯ direction. While the occasional Paunsean would still make it through, their presence was rare, and any talk of their gods was even rarer.


    ¡°Tzaarkus is the god of thunder, lightning, and inspiration,¡± explained Lia. ¡°He¡¯s one of the two that Paunseans favour.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the other one?¡± askled Sylvia.


    The catgirl smiled awkwardly and twiddled her thumbs. ¡°To be honest, I¡¯m not really sure. We know that he¡¯s a celestial and that he¡¯s really nice, but no one seems to know his name.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ Wait! That¡¯s gotta be A¡ªOw!¡±


    Claire flicked the fox¡¯s forehead just hard enough to make her flinch. ¡°Enough talking. Let¡¯s go to the temple,¡± she said, before lowering her voice. ¡°It¡¯s better if she doesn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Really? Why?¡±


    ¡°You might get smited. By Flitzegarde. There¡¯s a reason they don¡¯t already know.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah¡­¡± Sylvia clamped her hands over her mouth. ¡°Oops.¡±


    Saying no more, the pair followed the catgirl and made for the thunder god¡¯s temple.


    ___


    It only took a few minutes for them to arrive at their destination. Tzaarkus¡¯ place of worship was on the smaller side, less than half the size of Flux¡¯s, but still stood at more than five times the width of the average building. Unlike any of Vella¡¯s and Builledracht¡¯s constructs, Tzaarkus¡¯ was relatively plain, to the point where she nearly mistook it for another government office. The building¡¯s facade wasn¡¯t plastered in fancy decorations, nor was its front entrance lined with a hundred hand-carved statues made in the god¡¯s image. The only obvious marker was the symbol on the door¡ªa pair of thunderbolts arranged in a cross.


    Claire was unable to determine if it was because the god was meant to be modest, or if his followers lacked the funds to embellish his domain, but either way, the lack of aesthetics had no effect on the temple¡¯s power. She could feel not only the usual pressure that came with nearing a god¡¯s dominion, but also the divinity woven into the fabric of the temple¡¯s grounds. Her own divine power was reacting to it, surging wildly in her shard. It felt like her chest was on fire, albeit without the pain, and the sensation only grew stronger as the distance continued to shrink.


    ¡°Claire?¡± Sylvia grabbed the lyrkress¡¯ hand and stopped right in front of the building¡¯s entrance. Lia had already started ascending the staircase, but the two halfbreeds were still at its base. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± The brunette spun around, but she was quickly dismissed with a shake of the head.


    ¡°No.¡± The rogue made an attempt to start walking again, but another tug stopped her from stepping forward. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Promise me you¡¯ll tell me if you start feeling weird.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°I know, but divinity can be kinda unpredictable. So promise.¡±


    The lyrkress didn¡¯t see a point in the agreement. There was nothing either of them could do before the power of a god. Still, after glancing at her companion, and noting her drooped ears, she decided to respond with a nod. ¡°I promise.¡±


    ¡°Good. Now let¡¯s go!¡± Sylvia perked up right away, and still holding her hand, started running ahead.


    The thought of sabotaging the fox¡¯s attempts to climb the stairs crossed the half-snake¡¯s mind, but she shook it away and allowed the excited canine to drag her wherever she pleased.


    A look inside of the temple revealed that there was more activity than she had first thought. Though there weren¡¯t any greeters, there were dozens of workers running to and fro within, ferrying various objects and documents back and forth.


    It took her a moment to identify the front desk in all the chaos. The counter the receptionist was standing behind was more akin to a fruit stand than it was anything that belonged in a religious institution, and the rest of the furniture was no different. Shoddy wooden benches were laid out before an equally shoddy stone altar. Everything was perfectly cleaned, of course, but the polish did little to hide the poor quality of the raw materials employed. The rocks had discoloured patches, the wood looked partially burned, and even the papers they used for their documents had charred edges. It almost looked like everything had been subjected to some sort of irrational but intentional damage.


    The temple was so different from any other she knew that she would have stood and stared had Sylvia not transported her to their feline companion. Once whole again, the group made its way over to the desk, where its members were greeted by a shark-finned nun.


    ¡°Hello, and welcome to the temple of thunder,¡± said the receptionist, with a toothy smile. ¡°How can I help you today?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯d like to register as a party,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°Of course. One of our priests will be available for that shortly. Will that be all?¡±


    Lia nodded, but Claire shook her head. ¡°I¡¯d also like to pray. If the atrium is available.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll need just one second to check,¡± said the nun.


    The habit-wearing shark waited for the rogue¡¯s acknowledgement before walking over to another desk and consulting a large wooden board.


    ¡°Are you planning to pray to Tzaarkus?¡± asked Lia, with a cock of the brow. ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t know who he was.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± said Claire. But Flux told me to ask the gods for their blessings. ¡°Is that a problem?¡±


    The catgirl shook her head with vigour. ¡°Of course not! He¡¯s an incredibly open-minded god, and I¡¯m sure he¡¯d be glad to listen to your prayers, follower or not.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly right. Tzaarkus may not be the most well known, but he¡¯s certainly one of the kindest.¡± When the receptionist returned, by hobbling over on her fin, she did so with a welcoming smile. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look to be booked today, so you¡¯re welcome to use it, but we can¡¯t guarantee that you¡¯ll have it to yourself. Is that okay?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Great. We can start you off there. I¡¯ll have the priest I mentioned earlier head to the atrium as soon as he''s ready.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Follow me, I¡¯ll show you the way.¡±


    Holding a holy tome to her chest, the nun led the group down through the building¡¯s basement, into a large room kept illuminated only by candlelight.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be going back to my post now, but if you¡¯d like someone to escort you back to the surface, then please ring the bell,¡± said the nun, as she pointed at the metal instrument in question.


    ¡°Thanks, we will!¡± said Sylvia.


    After offering a similar set of regards, the group¡¯s other two members walked through the room, and up to the altar enshrined at its center.


    Lia got to praying immediately, but Claire was not as eager. She took a moment to focus on the energy raging within her chest before she sat down on her knees, closed her eyes, and placed her clasped hands in her lap.


    ¡°O god of thunder and inspiration, lord of the Paunsean perverts and divine protector of Alfred¡¯s creations. I beseech from you a divine trial of a magnitude great enough to invoke your blessing.¡± The words were spoken quietly, so that the feline beside her would not hear them. ¡°Though I stand not as one of yours, I wish for little but to seek and carry out your will.¡±


    The world around her began to twist and warp as soon as she finished speaking. Even without opening her eyes, she could feel it in her shard. Lackluster and insulting as it was, Tzaarkus had answered her call.

 Chapter 150 - The Thunder God’s Temple V

    Chapter 150 - The Thunder God¡¯s Temple V


    The shard in Claire¡¯s chest burned like a raging flame. Its power seeped into her insides, scarring the tissue before retreating back into the nexus, over and over. The world changed each time the cycle repeated. What started as a dim sanctuary with three people inside soon transformed into an empty night sky containing only two.


    Tzaarkus was not the wise old sage that she had expected, but rather a brazen, eight-armed youth with tanned skin and a generous head of dark brown hair. Half the messy fibres were hidden beneath his disheveled turban¡ªthe crown that signified his godhood¡ªwhile the rest hung down to his chest. For a man whose temple appeared modest, his outfit was overly lascivious. His robes were made of fine silk, and he wore two long chains around his neck, one made of a silvery platinum, and the other a brilliant gold. Like his headdress, both were decorated with bright red jewels, rubies with masses far in excess of her own.


    There was a large entity behind the giant¡¯s ten-meter-tall frame, a blue and white sphere with three rings circling around it. Something about it stole her focus, but she pulled her eyes away and met the deity¡¯s hazelnut gaze.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting an answer,¡± she said.


    After taking a moment to regard her, he craned his neck and looked to the planet behind him, his eyes focused on its largest decoration. He moved his head slowly, watching as the disk spun, round and round.


    ¡°And I would¡¯ve preferred not to give one.¡± The reply came after a minute of silence. ¡°But unfortunately, I owe Flux a rather excessive number of favours.¡± Adjusting his turban with one hand, he caught the ring in another and pulled it towards his chest. It grew as he did, tenfold, a hundredfold, ten thousandfold, before shrinking to a size small enough to fit in his palm. And hers. ¡°Most of us do.¡±


    He presented it to her, holding it out like a piece of candy, but she shook her head. She could feel the unstable vectors holding it together, ready to collapse at a moment¡¯s notice.


    ¡°Good choice,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s as massive as your planet¡¯s moon. You would have been crushed under the weight.¡±


    Something about the statement sent her divine spark into a frenzy. Its power spread further than before, flooding her vessel and invading her core before returning to its refuge. Frowning, she looked up at him again, and found that his mood was no better than hers. His otherwise agreeable face was twisted into an irritated scowl and his eyes were cold, unforgiving as the steel of a blade.


    ¡°I thought you were meant to be kind.¡±


    ¡°To my believers, I am, but not to outside pests like you.¡±


    He glared at her again, but the lyrkress didn¡¯t back down. Training her eyes on his, she returned the glower with a hostile scowl.


    ¡°Then your kindness is false, nothing but a display of your inferior caliber.¡±


    A violent gurgle escaped his throat. ¡°Watch your tongue, mortal! Anger me, and I will not hesitate to smite you.¡±


    ¡°You would¡¯ve done it already if you weren¡¯t all talk.¡± The Cadrian met his enraged display with a scoff. ¡°Now shut up and give me your trial.¡± It wasn¡¯t wise to rouse him, but she didn¡¯t care. It was already too late to play nice. ¡°I have no interest in speaking to a self-absorbed narcissist incapable of tolerating even a single insult.¡±


    ¡°A single insult?¡± The veins in Tzaarkus¡¯ head bulged. His four lowest arms smashed into the non-present floor atop which he sat, while the others balled into fists. ¡°It was not a single insult! Harnessing the power of lightning is my domain. Not yours. If you wish to use its power, then you must craft it through magic, not steal from me like some sort of greedy footman.¡±


    For a moment, there was silence. Thinking the mortal subdued, he crossed all eight of his arms and reclined against the blue-white world, crushing half of it beneath his rugged back. The gas and stone were pushed aside, and the world¡¯s molten core was exposed, its heat radiating out from behind the giant¡¯s spine and basking them both in its fiery ardor.


    ¡°I was tempted to obliterate you for that. But alas I am not so petty that I would forgo the debt I owe, just because of a thoughtless insult. An err in your judgement, mayhaps.¡±


    Log Entry 5405


    You have received a divine quest - Replace the Soundstone of Clarity


    Primary Objective:


    - Provide the temple of thunder with a new soundstone, as per its standard requirements.


    This quest¡¯s reward is a minor blessing from the god of thunder, lightning, and inspiration.


    ¡°You were insulted? By those cheap parlour tricks?¡±


    His mind was serene until she spoke. When he opened his eyes, he found the halfbreed still unbroken, with no intention to hide any of her thoughts. Her face was twisted into a haughty smile, with all her sharpened teeth exposed. Her eyes were glimmering not with fear, but malice, and her glare was still fixed on the corridor to his soul.


    ¡°You¡¯re angry that someone might mistake them for your bolts. Because they aren¡¯t magic.¡±


    ¡°Correct. The paltry lightning you leverage is an affront to my craft. You will not be forgiven, if you continue to infringe upon the realm of my divinity. This is your final warning.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±


    She could tell, from the way he twisted his face, that she was getting to him, but the god quickly regained his composure and broke into laughter.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s no matter either way. You¡¯ll be hunted soon enough.¡±


    Claire opened her mouth to question the claim, but the god faded before she could. His realm vanished, and his temple came back into view. He had wanted the last word, and denying her the chance to speak was the only way he could have gotten it. Even knowing that, she found herself mildly annoyed; her mind was still racing with the many responses she could have unleashed to shatter his fragile ego. And the next time they met, she was dead set on just that. All she would need to do was remind him that he was the one that had fled.


    ¡°Finally! Took you long enough,¡± complained Sylvia.


    Turning her head towards the voice, she found that the fox girl was seated on top of her non-existent saddle. The canine half-elf was leaning forward, with her chest against her back, her arms around her waist, and her chin resting on her shoulder.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°Get off of me,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Not until you give me a ride. Like a horsey or something.¡± She squeezed two of the lyrkress¡¯ three stomachs, one with her legs, and the other with her arms. ¡°I dunno why I never thought of it before, but riding on your back seems like it¡¯d be way more fun than riding on your head.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a horse.¡± Claire grabbed her pet facefirst and tried to push her away, but Sylvia refused to budge. ¡°I¡¯m a moose.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, moose, horse, deer, whatever! Cervitaurs and centaurs are basically just the same thing!¡±


    ¡°Could the two of you please quiet down?¡± asked Lia. ¡°I¡¯m still trying to pray.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ sorry.¡± Sylvia tilted her head. ¡°Wait, still? Hasn¡¯t it been like ten whole minutes?¡±


    The catgirl smiled awkwardly. ¡°I know what I want to say, but I can¡¯t find the right words and I¡¯m not really sure why.¡±


    Her eyes shimmering in the candle light, she cast her gaze on her hands, opening and closing them before setting them back down in her lap. Her mouth followed suit, but the silent words were never conveyed. A set of footsteps drew her attention before she could speak. Ears twitching, she spun around and focused her slit eyes on the massive, hulking crocodilian lumbering down the hall. In one hand, he held a small candle to help him navigate the underground while the other hugged a rugged tome to his chest. His head was adorned with a veiled cap to prove his priesthood, as well as a pair of tiny, disproportionate glasses for his equally tiny, disproportionate eyes.


    ¡°Good day,¡± he said, as he entered the holy atrium. ¡°I was told there was a group looking to register a party.¡±


    ¡°Good afternoon, Father Gremm.¡± The catgirl scrambled to her feet and greeted the gator with a bow.


    Despite hearing her voice loud and clear, he didn¡¯t recognize her right away. He fiddled with his glasses, blinking several times with his translucent, sideways eyelids before calling her identity to mind. ¡°Ah, yes¡­ I remember you. You were Lia, I believe?¡±


    ¡°I am, sir.¡±


    Unlike the runaway, Claire conducted herself not as his subject or inferior. The only greeting she offered was a silent nod, which he returned in kind. Because she was an outsider, there was no need for her to stand on ceremony.


    ¡°Will it be all three of you?¡± He set the tome down on the ground in front of them and flipped through it, eventually stopping on a page that had yet to be filled.


    ¡°Not me! Just them,¡± said Sylvia, in a sing-songy voice. She continued to hum quietly, even as she backed down and hid herself behind the lyrkress.


    The priest nodded and looked at the other two. ¡°And the both of you are fine with her bearing witness?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t bother me,¡± agreed Lia.


    ¡°Perfect. Do either of you need me to write out your signatures by proxy?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, thank you Father.¡±


    With both parties¡¯ literacy confirmed, Father Gremm turned his eyes back to the page and traced a scaled finger down to an empty spot.


    ¡°I, Gremm Flikrys, invoke by Tzaarkus¡¯ might, the rite of collaboration.¡± Power welled up around them as the ritual mage continued to speak. His magic quickly took the shape of a large circle filled with specific geometric configurations, connected perfectly to form the god¡¯s symbol with his book at its center. ¡°May those that inscribe their names in my blood share in the fruits of their labour and the bounties of their prey.¡± Slowly, gracefully, he drew a knife from within his robe and stabbed its tip into the back of his hand. His vital fluid spilled onto the page, forming a puddle that leached into the parchment. ¡°Lest their union be dissolved by death or express invocation.¡±


    Lia stepped forward, plucked a quill from the ancient volume¡¯s spine and wrote Natalya Vernelle into its pages with no hesitation. More letters continued to form, even as she pulled her hand away from the parchment, confirming that she was a level 304 Armidian Fastpaw with her other classes averaging to 397. Just as she had claimed.


    Claire was given the plume as soon as the cat was done, but she hesitated to bring it to the page. There was a large discrepancy in their levels. Though she had mentioned that she was nearing 250, her primary and secondary classes still trailed far behind. Her power level, however, was not why she had refrained from jumping right in. Her Llystletein classes had come with a disproportionate boost to her ability scores, and she had already proven that she could hold her own.


    Her logs claimed that she was Claire Augustus no longer. And frankly, she had tried to play into its hand. She had tried to abandon her identity. After conquering Borrok Peak, she had decided not to pursue revenge, to live a quiet life out of the range of his surveillance instead. But his influence was not so easily shaken. It was often reflected in her behaviour and dredged to the forefront. Especially when she had to deal with people.


    At her core, she was still Claire Augustus, regardless of what her status board said.


    And she recalled still, from all her undesired studying, that the ritual was based not on the objective truth, but her sense of self. In theory, it would fail if she gave anything other than the identity she recognized. But spurred on by a sense of confidence whose source remained unknown, she stopped her fingers short and wrote just one word.


    Taking a breath, she set the quill down and backed away, but there was no backlash. The blood that filled the book¡¯s pages didn¡¯t suddenly come to life and assault her, nor did the priest suddenly cough up a lung and fall to his knees.


    A melange of symbols appeared next to her half-accurate moniker. She looked at them, thinking that they would reveal her status, but they were incoherent. She saw nothing but a hodgepodge of gibberish, random characters that looked more like works of abstract art than they did any sort of legible text. And yet, neither the cat nor the gator appeared to be caught off guard.


    Prompted by an almost silent giggle, she looked behind her, suspiciously, and found the pixie fox winking with a finger held in front of her lips.


    ¡°All members have signed. By the thunder god¡¯s rule, I call an end to this rite. May you find luck on the battlefield and bountiful prey on your hunts.¡± Bringing his hands to his face, the crocodilian bowed his head, a pose he held until his tome closed without his interference. He picked it up, nodded to the group, and stood up to leave shortly after, but Claire called out to him before he could walk away.


    ¡°Father Gremm. I have a question. If you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± he said, as he spun back around. ¡°What do you need?¡±


    ¡°I was given a quest. To provide the temple of thunder with a soundstone.¡±


    At first, he was stunned. His tail scratching the back of his head, he blinked several times before finally nodding. ¡°That sounds¡­ rather difficult.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t told any specifics. What will I need?¡±


    ¡°Wait¡­ Tzaarkus gave you a divine quest?¡± Lia¡¯s eyes were wide open. ¡°I can¡¯t believe it. You¡¯re so lucky!¡±


    ¡°Far from it,¡± mumbled the lyrkress.


    A soundstone was ultimately a magical rock, enchanted with a specific set of spells. Anyone could make one, and they were often used in theatres and speeches to amplify the voices of their bearers. With the right artisan, even something as cheap as a pebble off the side of the road could be given all the properties required to alter its classification, but Claire doubted it would be that easy, not with the god¡¯s displeasure so blatant.


    ¡°Strange that he would give the quest to an outsider¡­¡± He took his book with his tail and tapped his chin with his freshly freed hands. ¡°But it just so happens that we have recently discovered that the soundstone we keep in Vel¡¯khagan, the capital, does require replacing. It shattered just the other day, and we were fussing over what to do this morning,¡± he said, with an awkward smile. ¡°It happens to be the one that our pope uses in his seminars and public worships, and because it represents our image, it has to be an immensely beautiful gemstone with not a single blemish. Ideally, we¡¯ll want a ruby about as large as my palm.¡± He held out his hand, his oversized, scaly hand. ¡°But it does not have to be a ruby. Any precious stone will suffice.¡±


    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll keep an eye out,¡± said Claire.


    On the outside, she was calm. But internally, she was annoyed to the point of disbelief. A ruby at least fifteen centimeters across was the sort of magical jewel that Allegra often complained was in short supply. It wasn¡¯t common for them to come to market, and she lacked the contacts and status to mingle amongst those that would flaunt them.


    Though it had sounded relatively unassuming at first, the quest the thunder god had given her was one chosen out of malice. A classic, royal, pain in the rear.

 Chapter 151 - Farenlight’s Den

    Chapter 151 - Farenlight¡¯s Den


    Tossing and turning, Claire shifted around in her bed, moving to and fro until she found its most comfortable position. Only then did she finally open her eyes and look upon the dark, grey ceiling. It was dimly lit by the morning sun, which flooded through the window unrestrained and illuminated the room with its piercing bright beams; the wooden divider positioned between the chamber¡¯s two beds did nothing to stop the rays from reaching her eyes. Sitting up, she turned her gaze on the unbubbled fox at the foot of her mattress before slowly looking towards the tacky, checkered floor and the unfortunate wolf-turned-carpet that decorated it.


    She matched its cold, taxidermied eyes with an unrelenting stare of her own before unfurling her body with a stretch. She had slept well, but the previous day¡¯s events were still fresh in her mind¡ªand just as annoying as they¡¯d been upon their inception. Returning to town had come hand in hand with a less-than-pleasing discovery. The inn the pervert had booked was full. The staff was able to accommodate her by providing extra bedding, but they had to share a single room. At her insistence, the innkeepers had put up a partition, but it was a paltry defense at best.


    The temporary barrier cut her off from easy window access. The chamber¡¯s far side had been claimed by the catgirl, who had insisted that she needed the cool night breeze to fall asleep, and Claire had acquiesced. Being the more intelligent of the two, she knew that the door was safer. Any potential assailants were more likely to enter through the aperture than they were the building¡¯s shabby, dreary halls.


    As was made clear by its less-than-excellent decor, the inn they lodged in was not a luxurious hotel. Lia had insisted that it was of a higher quality than most, but Claire knew the truth. The hundreds of taxidermied wolves placed in and around the building proved that the owner was insane, and that his abode was the sort of place frequented only by travelers down on their luck. Its name was another dead giveaway. There was simply no reason for any higher class establishment to name itself The Starving Pup.


    Recalling the pub¡¯s name brought Claire¡¯s attention to her own empty stomach. She wasn¡¯t exactly hungry, but there was no reason not to get breakfast out of the way while her roommates were still asleep. Quietly, without waking either, the rogue slipped out of bed and turned her leather coat into a casual dress. Because of the pervert¡¯s proximity, she had slept not in her usual nightgown, but a thick layer of protective hide. It was a necessary measure, in the case that she was approached with ill intent. She knew little of Natalya¡¯s character and the efficacy of Alfred¡¯s curse had been the biggest standout; trading comfort for safety was a more than reasonable choice to make.


    Closing the door behind her, she walked past a number of creepy dead wolves and made her way into the building¡¯s foyer. At the front desk, she saw the same old shrimp that had greeted them the previous night. He was leaning back in his chair, chewing on a piece of grass and reading a book on canine behaviours. He noticed her immediately and greeted her with a wave, but otherwise paid her little attention. His eyes were immediately returned to his gravely important prior commitment, even before she acknowledged his salutation.


    She was tempted to call both the man¡¯s tastes and life choices to question, but dismissed the thought as soon as it popped into her head. He hadn¡¯t questioned her fox-shaped hat. It wouldn¡¯t have been fair for her to judge.


    Conclusion begrudgingly made, Claire strolled past him and waltzed her way into the building¡¯s dining hall. The bar was just as shabby as the inn it was attached to, but it was full nonetheless, swarming with both its overnight customers and a fresh set present only for its supposedly reputable food.


    Looking over the scene filled her with a strange sense of unease. It didn¡¯t feel right to know that there were no seats reserved for her, to have to stand at the back of the line and wait for her turn to be served. She knew that she was a lady no longer, but the fact did little to ease her anxiety. It bothered her greatly to know that she had slipped out of society¡¯s purview. Just because she had lost her last name. It was as if she had no value, that people had only ever seen her because she was her father¡¯s daughter.


    Shaking her head clear of the thought, she exited the queue and went back upstairs, a decision driven not by her mental state, but a quick glance at the menu on the wall. Everything was made of wolf meat, and she somehow doubted that it would serve to please her palate.


    ¡°Oh, Claire. Don¡¯t be so silly. It¡¯s all very delicious.¡± A deformed pony appeared on her shoulder as she entered an empty corridor. ¡°You were just spoiled, when you lived in the manor. We won¡¯t be getting any more meals like that, so you¡¯ll have to just get over it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m trying,¡± mumbled the halfbreed. ¡°Why else would I have eaten all of that stale bread?¡±


    ¡°Because you haven¡¯t killed anything worth eating yet, of course,¡± hissed her imaginary snake.


    ¡°Now you¡¯re just being ridiculous. Nearly everything she¡¯s killed is worth eating,¡± said the horse. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting to try hellhog bolognese for weeks.¡±


    Claire heaved a sigh. ¡°Why do the two of you have to show up every time I have a moment to myself?¡±


    Shouldersnake rotated its body and turned its head upside down. ¡°Because it¡¯s the only time we can, without making you seem mentally ill.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s right you know,¡± said the deformed pony. ¡°But we can drop in more if you¡¯d like. I know you just love seeing me, with my form being as beautiful as it is.¡±


    ¡°No thanks.¡±


    She popped open her authority skill as she turned another corner and traced her eyes over the options. The list had grown so long that there were nearly a hundred different choices, almost all of which had gone untried.


    ¡°You should have some of the mechanical huskari macarons. They sound delicious.¡± Shoulderhorse waddled forward and pointed a hoof at one of the most expensive selections.


    Claire sighed. ¡°Are you stupid? I don¡¯t have enough mana.¡± The supposed desert in question was marked with a cost of 50000MP, just over twice her maximum. ¡°And I can¡¯t eat machines.¡±


    The horse raised its head, as would a limbless lunatic filled with pride. ¡°Yes, but I can, and you can taste it through my perfect palate.¡±


    ¡°Your palate is dysfunctional,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Agreed,¡± said the snake. ¡°Don¡¯t listen to that stupid pony. Try the eldritch eclairs instead.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°But we can afford them, and they come from one of the few that nearly killed us. Feasting on its flesh will make us stronger.¡±


    ¡°I said no,¡± grumbled the lyrkress. ¡°That has frog in it.¡±


    Having decided that neither imaginary friend was of much help, Claire stopped just shy of defaulting to bread and picked something random by closing her eyes and waving her hand haphazardly.


    When she opened them again, she found the tip of her index finger hovering just in front of the Red Rabbit Rangoons. Recalling that the red rabbits were one of the many species under the strange deers¡¯ control, and that they were not too disgusting to eat, she confirmed her selection and walked into the room as it formed in her hands.


    ¡°Welcome back, and good morning. I¡¯m guessing it was a bit too packed downstairs?¡±


    Lia greeted her from the other side of the partition, her shadowy silhouette revealing that she was sitting cross-legged on her bed with her hands resting on her knees. Her fuzzy feline ears, which poked just over the edge of the screen, were occasionally joined by her tail. It was moving in a predictable, wave-like pattern, slowly twisting from left to right and back.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Claire eyed her shoulder beasts and waited for them to vanish before raising her voice. ¡°Is it always like that?¡±


    ¡°Almost. Their stuff is really good, but I think we should try and grab a bite somewhere less crowded. Farenlight¡¯s Den is only a few hours away, but with all the detours we¡¯re taking, we¡¯ll need to set out soon if we want to make it by nightfall.¡±


    ¡°No need.¡± The lyrkress seated herself next to the snoozing vixen and played with one of her ears.


    ¡°We can¡¯t just skip breakfast, Claire. It¡¯s the most important meal of the day.¡± Getting up from her bed, the catgirl slid the screen aside, just in time to see the magical lump in the mage¡¯s hand turn itself into a plate of fried goodies.


    She blinked a few times before retreating behind the partition, closing it, and re-enacting its opening.


    ¡°It¡¯s not your imagination,¡± said Claire.


    Lia pinched one of her cheeks and shook her head. ¡°I thought Sylvia was joking when she said you could make food out of magic.¡±


    ¡°She wasn¡¯t.¡±


    The blueblood handed the plate to the runaway soldier. ¡°T-thank you.¡± Lia brought it up to her face and carefully scanned its contents.


    ¡°It¡¯s not an illusion.¡±


    ¡°R-right, I¡¯m sorry for doubting you. It just¡­ seemed so ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°Because it would eliminate the need for farmers and serfs,¡± said the halfbreed.


    ¡°That, and it would solve just about every logistics problem I can think of,¡± said Lia.


    Claire shrugged. ¡°Maybe. But it isn¡¯t something that can be learned.¡± She patted the fox as she spoke, but kept her eyes focused on the plate. ¡°Try it.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure? Isn¡¯t this supposed to be your breakfast?¡±


    ¡°I can make more.¡±


    The catgirl raised a morsel to her face, glanced at the supposed cook, and smiled as she brought it to her lips. ¡°It¡¯s delicious. Very aromatic,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re a great cook, Claire.¡±


    The lyrkress narrowed her eyes and took a long, careful look at the taste tester. Her tail was raised, her eyes were shining, and her smile was natural. It didn¡¯t look like she was just trying to flatter her. Either that, or she was an incredibly talented actor. Thinking the former far more likely, Claire summoned another identical plate, tried it for herself, and concluded that the cat¡¯s tongue was never to be trusted.


    ___


    The group headed to the job board as soon as Sylvia woke. Lia reported her task¡¯s completion and handed over the bandit chief¡¯s deflated corpse, while the other two went through the process of revoking their request for a maid. They were fortunate enough to avoid a fine because no one had signed up for the job, but the clerk lectured their ears off nonetheless; she didn¡¯t stop until the catgirl stepped in and explained that she was responsible for the accidental destruction of the pair¡¯s estate.


    Once all their administrative duties were out of the way, the trio headed out the town¡¯s eastern gate and made for Farenlight¡¯s Den. They spent half the day walking through the forest, but the scenery barely changed. The only apparent difference was a slight increase in humidity, noted only by the fox and her magical tail.


    Mild changes in the environment aside, the trip had only a pair of highlights, both of which involved getting the jump on a group of unwary victims. The hideouts that the fox and the cat worked together to find each contained a small number of bandits. Lia had once again suggested bringing them to town, but Claire refused and executed every poor soul she came across. But while she didn¡¯t capture any of the outlaws, she did capture their weapons. She shoved her findings into her magical cloak whenever the catgirl looked away and came out of each base with another thirty pounds on her person.


    Unlike the two-legged snake, the Paunsean deserter took only their coins and wallets. Being on the more destitute side themselves, the outlaws didn¡¯t exactly have any chests filled with treasure. There were only a few dozen silver pieces between each group, and that was accounting for the contents of their stashes. Neither Claire nor Sylvia thought much of the pitiful coinage, but Lia was over the moon, claiming that they very well may have struck gold. She was put in such a good mood that she even joined their resident bard in singing through the last leg of their journey¡ªa decision made to the lyrkress¡¯ dismay. The cat¡¯s voice itself was undeniably pleasant, but her pitch had all the control of a tiny boat in a world-ending storm.


    ¡°Is that it?¡± Claire interrupted one such sequence as she crested a hill and looked upon what was supposedly their final destination. Spread out beneath her was a small settlement protected by a shoddily constructed wooden fence, just high enough to be easily surmounted by a child. It housed only a few dozen buildings, but the streets were just as packed as Vel¡¯rulm¡¯s.


    ¡°I think so,¡± Lia¡¯s eyes moved between the compass in her left hand and the map in her right as she spoke. ¡°We¡¯re in the right place.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said it was a dungeon.¡±


    ¡°It should be,¡± said the catgirl.


    ¡°It is a dungeon! Look!¡±


    Sylvia stood up on her hind legs and pointed at the well in the village¡¯s town square. From afar, it looked like an ordinary watering hole, the only prominent feature of which was its gaping entrance. The mouth was so large that it could have easily fit a turberus with a carriage in tow. That, however, was all the lyrkress noted. She didn¡¯t think anything of the centerpiece until a group of armed men leapt inside of it. A different group emerged shortly after, climbing up its side in a hurry, whilst transporting a wounded scyph on a stretcher.


    ¡°I see it now,¡± said Claire. ¡°But why is there a town?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s technically an outpost, and it¡¯s extremely convenient,¡± answered the brunette. ¡°Having all these businesses here makes it a lot easier to buy supplies and sell loot.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not convenient. It¡¯s insane.¡±


    The half-cervitaur¡¯s concerns were not unreasonable. It was not uncommon for monsters to wander outside the magical domains that housed them, and some species were more proactive about it than others. Goblins in particular were known for leaving their confines, starting colonies, and doing their utmost to ascend, all whilst chanting the names of the plague gods they served and ruining the land atop which they built.


    And yet, there was a village set up around the magical well. There was not even a gate sealing off the entrance. The only sturdy-looking structure even remotely nearby was the job board; there was nothing to stop a monster from stepping out into the open and eating all the children it could find.


    ¡°And I thought you said entry was exclusive,¡± said Claire, as she watched another three parties come and go.


    Laughing awkwardly, the catgirl scratched the back of her neck. ¡°Anyone can enter the first ten floors, but you need authorization to go any lower.¡±


    Sylvia gasped. ¡°Woah¡­ this place has over ten floors? It¡¯s gotta be huge!¡±


    ¡°It is, and it¡¯s also very dangerous. So be careful, and do your best to stay safe while we fight, okay?¡± The retired soldier got up on the tips of her toes in an attempt to reach the fox, but Claire took half a step back and left her fingers grazing only the air.


    ¡°If it¡¯s so dangerous, then why are people allowed in?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Dungeons are like mines. Heading in blind can be risky, but it isn¡¯t hard to make a decent living.¡± The catgirl looked back down at her map. ¡°Permits are supposed to help people. You can¡¯t stop them from exploring dungeons altogether, but you can minimize casualties by restricting just the really dangerous parts.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I get it! It¡¯s ¡®cause people aren¡¯t gonna try as hard to do stuff they shouldn¡¯t if they can already do other stuff.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right! You¡¯re very smart, Sylvia,¡± said Lia, as she marched straight into town.


    ¡°Thanks!¡± said the fox, with a giggle.


    Unlike Vel¡¯rulm, the outpost was completely unguarded, but it wasn¡¯t insecure. Most of the townspeople had weapons equipped; they were walking around in broad daylight armed to the teeth, often more literally than not.


    Even the various vendors had swords and bows. Some wore them on their waists, like the greedy explorers flooding the city, while others had them hanging on their walls. The menacing shopkeepers often greeted their customers with more suspicion than hospitality, and not for no reason. Many of the visitors were only in town to visit the dungeon; there was little need for any of them to care about their behaviour or any of the locals. One particularly obnoxious customer even went into an apothecary with a broken arm and came out with two, after picking a fight with the clerk.


    ¡°Would you rather figure out our lodging situation first, or grab a bite to eat?¡± asked Lia.


    It was still the middle of the afternoon. Their trip had gone smoothly; they had found and subsequently cleared out both hideouts in less than half the projected time.


    ¡°Neither,¡± said Claire. Taking the lead, she walked straight towards the middle of the town, towards the landmark they had spotted from atop the hill.


    ¡°I really don¡¯t think we should be dungeon diving just yet,¡± said Lia. ¡°We don¡¯t know enough about it, and it seems a little too late in the day to start.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. We can sleep inside.¡±


    Ignoring the overly cautious complaints that followed, Claire glanced over the job board, which was covered in requests for specific materials, and jumped into the well.


    Log Entry 5445


    You have entered the dungeon known as Farenlight¡¯s Den. Some but not all of the monsters that lurk within this dungeon outclass you.


    Her heart was pounding with excitement. It was finally time to explore a normal dungeon, to challenge a domain that belonged not to a perverted demigod, but the predator that served as the local apex.

 Chapter 152 - Farenlight’s Den II

    Chapter 152 - Farenlight¡¯s Den II


    Claire heaved a heavy sigh as she looked between her bloody fist and the dead lizard that had stained it. She was on the dungeon¡¯s tenth floor, but she had yet to find anything that even came close to threatening. The strongest local she found was a level 86 gecko-like monster, and it was weak enough for Lia to have killed it in a single strike.


    ¡°This is boring.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Ears drooping, Sylvia hopped off her mount¡¯s head and poked the dead monster with her paw. ¡°The floors are tiny! I thought they were gonna be way bigger, like they are back home.¡±


    Each of Llystletein¡¯s floors had been tens if not hundreds of kilometers across. They took hours to navigate, even with all the correct routes and locations in mind. Farenlight¡¯s Den¡¯s, on the other hand, were tiny. Despite knowing nothing of the layout, it had only taken them two hours to go from the first floor to the ninth, and another ten minutes to break through to the tenth, and they were not the only spelunkers to demonstrate competency. While some struggled, many of the other parties were breezing through hordes of monsters and collecting their corpses, likely to sell for a quick buck. Weak or strong, all the monster hunters shared a similar key feature. No matter what they were in the middle of, be it combat or a meal, they would regard any passersby with suspicion.


    Claire was just as cautious. Her eyes wandered around, following the various groups whenever they drew near, courtesy of Durham¡¯s education. He had often spoken at length about his time as an adventurer, regardless of whether she wanted to listen. One of the few lessons that had stuck was that adventurers and outlaws were often one and the same. The latter ruffians would kill others out on the roads, while the former would conduct their crimes in dungeons instead. They would often hunt each other within the magical confines, sometimes for glory, and other times to steal goods or equipment. And while they would certainly obscure their identities, the rulebreakers were not the only ones to cover their faces. Those of the fairer sex especially, like the catgirl and the lyrkress, made sure to keep their looks obscured.


    Both were wearing hooded leather cloaks with places for their ears. Claire¡¯s had the usual slits cut into them, so that her disproportionate head decorations could poke out the sides, while Lia¡¯s came with a pair of cat ear-shaped nooks. Sylvia was the only one without a matching outfit; the tailor hadn¡¯t been able to provide anything for her vulpine form.


    ¡°Did you use to live in a dungeon, Sylvia?¡±


    Lia sheathed her blade and rejoined the group. There were a pair of lizards behind her, both of which had been split right down the middle.


    ¡°Yup! A really big one.¡± She spread her front paws as wide as she could. ¡°That¡¯s where I met Claire!¡±


    ¡°Which dungeon was it?¡±


    ¡°None of your business.¡± Claire kicked a bludgeoned corpse out of her path and continued down the hall.


    ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to pry.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay! Don¡¯t worry about her. She¡¯s just really cold until she suddenly warms up to you.¡± The fox leapt towards her usual spot, but Claire ducked out of the way before she landed. Though it seemed as if the poor furball would crash into one of the dungeon¡¯s dirt walls, she nullified her momentum right before impact and landed directly on target. ¡°Nice try!¡±


    ¡°Stupid fox,¡± mumbled the snake, under her breath.


    The catgirl smiled wistfully with her hands clasped behind her back. ¡°I think she might just like you a lot more than she likes me.¡±


    ¡°She was like this with me at the start too! I¡¯m pretty sure she even thought about eating me.¡±


    ¡°What!? That¡¯s s¡ª¡± She stopped herself mid sentence by way of muting herself with her tail. ¡°Errrm¡­ I mean, why would she ever want to do that? Just look at how cute and fluffy you are!¡±


    ¡°I know, right!¡±


    Their casual conversation continued until they reached the stairwell that marked the end of the floor. Unlike the others, which had been completely unobstructed, it was blocked by a series of chains. There was a device by its exit, but no guards, not even golems or demonic sentries.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t look secure,¡± said Claire.


    She approached the magical fence and carefully looked it over. Its links appeared to be hooked straight into the dungeon¡¯s wall and connected to the magic circuit that ran throughout the labyrinth. An oddity to say the least. The magical subspace was meant to cleanse itself of foreign entities¡ªthe magical implant should have long been devoured.


    ¡°It¡¯s very secure, impenetrable, from what I¡¯ve heard,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°Impenetrable?¡± Claire grabbed one of the chains and gave it a tug, but it didn¡¯t seem to want to budge or give. ¡°I doubt that.¡±


    Lia smiled. ¡°Well, you¡¯re welcome to try. I think we should probably head back now anyway. It¡¯s getting a little late, so we can go ahead and do that once you¡¯ve given up.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Claire. ¡°But we go deeper. If I manage to break them.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± said the catgirl.


    ¡°Uhm¡­ Lia? I don¡¯t really think agreeing is a good idea. Claire¡¯s kinda really dumb about being reckless and stuff, but I¡¯m pretty sure she doesn¡¯t make bets she doesn¡¯t think she¡¯s gonna win. Even if she¡¯s kinda deranged.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not reckless,¡± said Claire. ¡°Or deranged. You¡¯re deranged.¡±


    ¡°No I¡¯m not, and yes you are!¡± The furball balled her paws into fists and lightly drummed them against the back of the other halfbreed¡¯s head. ¡°You¡¯re the most reckless person I know, and it always makes me super worried because you always jump into stuff without thinking it through!¡±


    ¡°See? Now you¡¯re hitting me for no reason. Deranged.¡±


    ¡°Well, reckless or not, I don¡¯t think she¡¯s going to be able to get through those chains,¡± said Lia, with a giggle. ¡°They¡¯re enchanted with a powerful contract spell designed by a well-learned celestial.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s called Archimess¡¯ Cipher,¡± said Claire.


    The spell was one that members of the nobility often used to lock up their valuables. It required at least two devices, each of which had to be enchanted by a ritual mage above level 40. Through the power of Flitzegarde, one would be christened the lock and placed in an eternal statis, while the other would be designated as the key, and the only solution thereto.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s the thing Al used on the box he gave us! Well¡­ kinda. I¡¯m pretty sure he messed with it a bit and made it so it¡¯ll open once the conditions are right.¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    There were a few versions and derivatives of the spell, including one that would allow for keys to work on multiple locks and additional keys to be designated even with the locks nonpresent, but they were more difficult and required mages with a far greater degree of experience. Claire had been far from meeting the requirements herself, and as such, had never committed any of the specifics to memory. All she could recall was a vague memory or two of Allegra ranting at length about magi and job security.


    ¡°You know it?¡± asked Lia.


    ¡°I know a lot of things,¡± said Claire.


    Despite her lack of study, she remained aware that most considered the cipher perfect and unbreakable. It was even designated by some as a law, a rule that simply could not be broken by mere mortals.


    The effect that kept the lock immutable was fueled by a spell. Circumventing its defense was as easy as draining it of all the magical power that sustained it¡ªa supposedly impossible task. Mages could only control their own mana, and tools enchanted with deterministic effects could not simply be exhausted. A ridiculous amount of magic was required to make the locks immutable, but it cost none for them to maintain their stable states. Once elevated by the goddess of order, they would sit in an alternate plane that prevented them from being affected through any ordinary means. And that was precisely why the lyrkress was confident she could affect them.


    She drew her divinity from the shard in her chest as soon as she confirmed that essencethief could not be immediately applied. Rather than expelling the searing aura, she moved it around within her, through her circuits, with most of it concentrated in her hand. The magical framework that spanned her arm was alight; her golden spark was put on full display as she stole the power that fueled the covenant.


    She wasn¡¯t able to take all of it. The magic¡¯s last vestiges almost seemed to reject her, to shy away from her touch and escape the tips of her thieving fingers, but it was at least weakened enough for her to rip it from its fixture.


    ¡°You did it!¡± cheered Sylvia.


    ¡°Huh!? How!?¡± Lia nearly jumped out of her skin as she craned her neck towards the chain. Unlike the fox, who had been watching in earnest, the catgirl had chosen to place her faith in the cipher. Her eyes had been focused on her rapier, which she was polishing with an old, dusty cloth.


    ¡°I win,¡± said Claire. ¡°We¡¯re going deeper.¡±


    A small smile appeared on her face as she watched the startled catgirl shift her gaze between the chain and its broken links ¡°That¡­ isn¡¯t supposed to be possible.¡±


    ¡°I told you. I¡¯m fiercely intelligent.¡± She cracked the chains against the dungeon¡¯s dirt floor and left a deep scar. ¡°And the mage that made this wasn¡¯t.¡± The rogue wasn¡¯t quite satisfied with them just yet, so she grabbed one of the many daggers hidden beneath her cloak and affixed it to the furthest link with a block of ice. ¡°Now let¡¯s go.¡±


    Leaving the still appalled catgirl where she was, the lyrkress put her hat on her head, and turned into a lamia to slither through the fresh gap. The other side of the doorway was hardly impressive. Like every other part of the dungeon, it was made of nothing but dirt tunnels, their walls lined with perpetually glowing torches.


    ¡°Wait, Claire, come back! We really shouldn¡¯t! I have no idea what¡¯s down there!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. We made a bet. Hurry up.¡±


    Lia didn¡¯t immediately comply. She looked between the half-broken chain and the door before sighing and reluctantly crawling through. ¡°Alright, but we¡¯re going back if we run into even a bit of trouble!¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t,¡± said Claire.


    It took three turns for them to find their first monster. Like everything else in the dungeon, it was a quadruped with its body covered in scales, but while most of the other reptiles had been similar to species she knew, their most recent discovery was entirely foreign. It had no real head, its neck had been replaced with a gaping, toothy hole, and its tail was a cube. A towering cube three times the length of its meter-long body.


    The massive glob of scales and flesh was not easy for the creature to haul. It dragged along the floor and greatly limited its speed. Each of the supposed lizard¡¯s steps took an eternity to complete.


    Adding to the confusion was the monster¡¯s relative neutrality. Unlike the dungeon¡¯s other inhabitants, it didn¡¯t run or attack on sight. It casually glanced in their direction, waited for a brief moment, and continued along its way, as if their presence was none of its business.


    The premature departure made Lia, who had drawn her weapon and called for battle formations, look like nothing but a fool, a fact of which she was well aware. She held her position for a moment, but buried her face in her free hand as soon as the realisation sank in. Still, her embarrassment was exposed. Her whole face was red as a rose, and hiding her cheeks had done nothing to conceal her blush.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have any formations. We never figured them out,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Please stop rubbing it in,¡± groaned the kit.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Lia! We all mess up sometimes, and I think you¡¯re better off safe than sorry,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°Thanks Sylvia. That¡¯s very sweet of you.¡± Lia smiled at the fox before shooting the lyrkress a miffed pout. ¡°It¡¯s a wonder how you¡¯re always so cute and upbeat, when you hang around that negative Nancy all the time.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not negative. You¡¯re just an idiot.¡±


    Unlike the encounter-adverse catgirl, the snake-moose saw no reason to allow the enemy¡¯s retreat. Moving past the vanguard, she bolted down the hall, tracked the monster with the radar in her mind, and chased it down. Its lack of eyes did nothing to stop it from realising that it was being pursued. Leaping into the air with a start, it detached its oversized tail and bolted away at a lightning fast speed. Claire tried to magically seize it, but the sudden acceleration threw her off. It was able to round a corner and vanish before she could get it in her grasp.


    Her first instinct was to investigate the severed appendage, but a set of warning bells went off in the back of her head when she approached it. Frowning, she opted instead to move back to her previous position and observe it from afar.


    ¡°What happened? Is something wrong?¡± The soldier was still halfway down the hall. Seeing Claire with her back against the wall and her eyes around the corner, she shifted from a casual walk to a light jog, only to fall flat on her butt.


    For once, Claire was not at fault for the catgirl¡¯s lack of balance. The perpetrator was a massive explosion. The hall containing the lizard¡¯s discarded tail was flooded with a pillar of flame that turned its sandy dirt to glass. With a sky-shattering roar, the inferno burst past the intersection and flooded the other side of the corridor, stopping only as it hit the far wall.


    ¡°What did you do!?¡± asked the catgirl. She looked between the half horse and the still lit flame, her eyes as round as plates.


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°It can¡¯t have been nothing!¡±


    ¡°It really was nothing! The lizard¡¯s tail exploded all on its own,¡± said Sylvia, who had been watching from atop the lyrkress¡¯ head. ¡°But holy crap¡­ I can¡¯t believe it had that much power in it. That was like a full fifty thousand mana.¡±


    ¡°You can tell?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Mhm! Remember what I told you about my tail being super sensitive?¡±


    ¡°Mhm?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ I know what a hundred thousand feels like, and it was about half.¡±


    ¡°Did you just say it exploded on its own?¡± The catgirl pulled a book out of her bag and started skimming through it. ¡°Now that I think about it, I think I¡¯ve seen those somewhere¡­¡±


    Through the corner of her eye, Claire was able to make it out to be some sort of diary. Most of its entries had dates in chronological order, and many were accompanied by sketches of monsters shown to her by bards aplenty.


    ¡°I think I found it.¡± She stopped after getting about a third of the way through the book and turned it around to show a poorly drawn, tailless rendition of the monster that had just escaped. ¡°My sister fought some of them a few years ago. It says here that it¡¯s a klimgor, and that they¡¯re not that tough, but they spook easily so you need to be really careful if you want to harvest the ether they keep in their tails.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s neat! Is your sister an adventurer?¡± asked Sylvia.


    Lia flinched. She recoiled a bit at first, but soon forced a smile and nodded. ¡°She was, a few years ago.¡±


    ¡°Wow¡­ she must be super famous if she has her own book. You should intro¡ª¡±


    Claire clamped a hand over the vixen¡¯s mouth. ¡°Enough rambling.¡± The fox looked down at her to complain, but she slowly shook her head, and signaled with her eyes that it was better not to pry. ¡°Let¡¯s go chase it down. Before it gets away.¡± The catgirl didn¡¯t respond, so Claire gave her another prod. ¡°Is there anything I need to know, Lia?¡±


    ¡°R-right¡­¡± She looked back down at her book and adjusted her day-old glasses. ¡°It says here that they aren¡¯t very good at attacking, but they¡¯re extremely fast and hard to capture because they blow up their tails as soon as they notice you.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see about that.¡±


    Turning into a centaur, Claire rounded the corner and dashed down the hall. The tiny arsonist had managed to stall her, but her catgirl tracker had it pinpointed. Run as it might, it wouldn¡¯t be able to escape her. Not within the dungeon¡¯s tiny confines.

 Chapter 153 - Farenlight’s Den III

    Chapter 153 - Farenlight¡¯s Den III


    With three turns made and a fourth right around the corner, Claire pounded her hooves against the floor and chased the klimgor through the dungeon¡¯s magical tunnels. Her prey was fast¡ªit knew she was coming and put all the agility in its arsenal into orchestrating an escape¡ªbut she was faster and closed in bit by bit. The relentless pursuit continued until the monster eventually collapsed in the middle of a particularly large hall, chest heaving and limbs shaking.


    The lyrkress rounded the corner soon after, but she wasn¡¯t the only one to make the turn. Natalya was hot on her heels, and like the centaur, she showed no signs of exhaustion. Her breath was steady, her heartbeat was regular, and there wasn¡¯t a hint of sweat on her brow, despite the awkward, four-limbed gait with which she ran.


    Without standing up on her hind legs, the catgirl took the lead, approaching the lizard and slashing at its neck with the sword in her mouth. She pulled her head to the side and snapped it back with more speed and force than she could have managed with her hands.


    Log Entry 5539


    Your party has slain a level 142 Klimgor Exploder.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 5 points of agility


    Log Entry 5540


    You have unlocked a new spawnable food item.


    The lizard¡¯s two halves continued to twitch and spurt blood as they fell to the ground. Both its parts tried to crawl away; it was almost like it failed to register that it was dead until the system finally reaped it of its consciousness.


    ¡°Only level 142?¡± Claire frowned. ¡°Why do you need a permit for something so weak?¡±


    ¡°I can find out if we head back to town and look over the files,¡± said Lia.


    The rogue rolled her eyes. ¡°We¡¯re not going back until we kill something strong.¡±


    She scanned the hallway as she spoke, in hopes that another monster would saunter into the hall, as Llystletein¡¯s hellhogs often would, but there was nothing. It took raising her ears to catch the occasional, distant scampering.


    ¡°What do you mean by strong?¡± asked the cat.


    ¡°Level 400? Or maybe 600?¡± Claire tilted her head as she answered. ¡°I don¡¯t know. But I want a challenge.¡±


    ¡°See! I told you she was reckless,¡± said Sylvia.


    She leapt off the blueblood¡¯s head, only for the mount to snatch her out of the air. Once captured, her cheeks were immediately abused, stretched to over twice their usual width.


    ¡°I¡¯m not reckless.¡±


    ¡°Yes you are!¡± shouted Sylvia. ¡°Are you already forgetting about the time you fought the frog, even though I told you that you weren¡¯t ready? It was like twice your level!¡± A phantom body double hummed a tune as the fox spoke, and with its notes, created a small projection of the amphibian in question.


    ¡°And I killed it. Easily,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Only because your classes are stupid strong! Al had to have messed up or something.¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t mess up,¡± said Claire. ¡°I made smart choices. You helped.¡±


    Sylvia rolled her eyes. ¡°You literally just picked the one I told you not to take! And then when it evolved, all you did was pick the one that I didn¡¯t recognize!¡±


    ¡°Exactly. You helped.¡± Claire loosened her grip on the fox¡¯s cheeks and gave her chin a quick scratch.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s right!¡± Lia hit the palm of her hand with the bottom of her fist. ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to ask, Claire, but what kind of mage are you, exactly?¡±


    ¡°The type that hits you when you ask too many questions.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about how we should set up our battle formations,¡± the catgirl ignored the threat and continued to speak, ¡°but I haven¡¯t been able to come up with anything concrete because I¡¯m still not sure how you fight.¡±


    Claire frowned. ¡°You¡¯ve seen me fight. And I already told you. It rains. And things die.¡±


    ¡°What about when it doesn¡¯t rain?¡±


    ¡°Then I make it rain.¡±


    ¡°Can you do it while we¡¯re indoors? Like we are right now?¡±


    ¡°Not at all,¡± said the lyrkress, with her usual blank stare.


    Lia sighed. She cupped her face in one of her hands and slowly shook her head. ¡°I know you want to keep your secrets, as much as you can, but can you please just be a little more cooperative?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m being very cooperative.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not dumb, Claire. You wouldn¡¯t have come so deep if you were helpless without the sky. Can you please just tell me what you do?¡±


    The lyrkress frowned. She paused briefly before lowering her head and pulling her hood over her eyes. ¡°Fine. I¡¯m a¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh, oh, can I do it?¡± Sylvia popped up in front of her face and cut her off with her paws waving wildly, ¡°I think I know pretty much everything you do now, so I think I have a pretty good way of dressing it up.¡±


    Claire gave the fox a questioning look. A part of her suspected that it was a thoughtless remark, but she knew that Sylvia was a lot more intelligent than she seemed. She doubted that the four-legged hat had failed to realise that she was looking to obscure the truth, albeit mostly for fun.


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Sylvia pumped her paws and wagged her tail as she scampered up the length of Claire¡¯s arms, got up on her head, and struck a pose, as would a hiker that had finally managed to climb his way up to a distant peak. ¡°So basically, Claire¡¯s a blade mage.¡±


    ¡°A blade mage?¡± Lia opened up her book and started flipping through the pages again. ¡°That doesn¡¯t quite seem to ring any bells. What exactly does she do?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s actually pretty simple! She can make blades with magic,¡± explained the vixen. ¡°The lightning strikes are actually just blades made of lightning, and all the ice stuff is blades made of ice. She can use normal weapons too. It¡¯s super fancy and she can even control them like puppets without actually touching them. Oh, and she has that one weird class she told you about that can make it rain and stuff.¡±


    Claire relocated the fox into her arms again and gave her a pat on the head. It was almost a perfect cover-up. Sylvia¡¯s totally made up explanation provided her the ability to use most of her kit, without revealing anything critical regarding its identity. And most importantly, she had failed to explain the reason the cat would occasionally trip on thin air.


    ¡°Good job,¡± whispered Claire, as she brought the fox closer.


    ¡°Thanks!¡± said Sylvia, in the same hushed tone


    ¡°So basically, she makes sharp things,¡± mumbled Lia. ¡°I guess that would also explain where she got the dagger.¡± She continued to think for a moment before looking up. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s right. I¡¯m just about halfway between a blademaster and a berserker, with a few extra tricks that don¡¯t really change how I fight. I¡¯m really good in close quarters, but I can¡¯t do much from afar.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Would you mind giving me a quick demonstration of how your blade magic works? I¡¯m still a little unsure of how much destructive force I should be expecting.¡±


    ¡°You first.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± said the cat. She put her hands on her weapon and paused briefly before suddenly perking up. ¡°Actually, I think I have a better idea. We should spar instead. It¡¯d probably be a lot easier to understand than trying to explain everything with words.¡±


    Claire reached into her cloak, and with her hands still hidden, grabbed a pair of rusty daggers. ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait! Not here!¡± said Lia. ¡°I meant when we get back into the city. We¡¯re going to need to hire a healer, in case something goes wrong.¡±


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°We have one.¡± Claire grabbed the fox off her head with her tail and raised her into the air, as one would a fuzzy newborn king.


    ¡°Sylvia¡¯s a healer?¡± the catgirl blinked.


    ¡°Kinda!¡± chirped the fox. ¡°I can¡¯t give you mana or instantly reattach your limbs and stuff since I¡¯m not a doctor, but I¡¯m really good at making it so you don¡¯t die.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ I had no idea,¡± said Lia, ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we have added you to our party? It doesn¡¯t really sound fair if you heal us, but we don¡¯t help you level up.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s okay. I don¡¯t mind,¡± said the fox. ¡°I¡¯m just tagging along because it¡¯s fun, not because I wanna get caught up in fights ¡®n stuff.¡± She was placed on top of a nearby rock as she spoke, the perfect vantage point to watch the battle unfold.


    ¡°Okay, but you¡¯re welcome to join if you ever change your mind,¡± said Natalya. ¡°Just say the word.¡±


    ¡°Thanks! I will!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t rely on her.¡± Claire returned to the room¡¯s center, her hands still hidden in her cloak.


    ¡°I know. I wasn¡¯t planning to.¡± Natalya drew her blade, put it in her mouth, and got down on all fours. ¡°Are you ready?¡± The words were muffled and unclear, intelligible only because they could be easily assumed.


    ¡°I am.¡± The brief conversation had bought her just enough time to think more deeply about the ramifications of Sylvia¡¯s game of make believe. ¡°Let¡¯s begin.¡±


    Claire was the first to attack. She revealed the daggers she kept under her robe and whipped them at her target full force. One was aimed at each side of the catgirl¡¯s body, with the blade closer to the catgirl¡¯s rapier lagging slightly behind. The delay was minor, but just long enough to make it awkward to deflect them both in the same swing.


    The trick had worked on the bandits, but the catgirl didn¡¯t fall for it. She leapt into the air and twisted her body at just the right angle for the knives to slip past her before landing back on her feet and pressing forward again.


    Narrowing her eyes, Claire pressed the attack with another four pairs of blades. But rather than throwing them directly at the catgirl, she opted instead to toss them into the air. Only with all four out of her hands did she finally launch them with a vector storm. The remote weapons twisted and turned, closing in on their target with their paths wild and unpredictable.


    And yet, Lia managed to evade them, and not with speed. She wasn¡¯t much faster than the backpedalling lyrkress and gained only a little distance at a time, but for what she lacked in agility, she made up with overwhelming accuracy. Her eyes followed all eight daggers perfectly. With her feline agility, she weaved in between the gaps with a quintet of rapid spins. The only edge that touched her barely skimmed her; it nicked the bottom of her chin and slid past her cloak, drawing the slightest bit of blood.


    The feline was so attentive that she even managed to notice the two blades that came from behind, albeit only a moment before impact. One left a wound on her left leg, while the other cut into the side of her waist, but her evasive maneuvers rendered the wounds too shallow to slow her down.


    Her lips widened into a grin that exposed her fangs as the distance between them continued to shrink. All four of her limbs sped up, blurring as a hint of madness flashed through her eyes. Impact was inevitable, and the catgirl was ready. She swung her weapon with blinding speed, aiming it at the lyrkress¡¯ legs. The tip of its blade was slower than its midsection; the force of the attack bent its end back, so that it would lacerate like a whip once its base made impact. But it never happened. Even though the slash landed on target.


    Claire transferred all the weapon¡¯s momentum right as they made contact, first from the blade to the hoof she used to parry, and then from herself to the pony on her shoulder. The invisible puppet crashed into the dirt wall and left a cloud of dust, a cloud of cover. Her supposedly injured leg was the first thing she attacked with. She raised the hoof into the air and brought it down on the cat¡¯s forehead. Lia couldn¡¯t see her in all the smoke, and yet, she dodged it with a perfectly timed twist of the neck¡ªan almost perfectly timed twist of the neck. She would have evaded the blow, had one of the lyrkress¡¯ leg fins not popped open. The flattened appendage prodded the catgirl with its jagged spines and cut into her flesh.


    The wound was shallower than the one that landed on her torso, but it packed more of a punch. Because while there was no way for the halfbreed to explain her weapons being coated in poison, the same could not be said for her body; the fin was caked in a layer of the most painful substance known to Clairekind. Bee venom.


    Unlike a monster, which would have recoiled, the feline was unaffected. Unflinching, she slashed at Claire with her claws. The tips of the cat¡¯s fingers barely touched her, but her underside was marred with a line of cuts, each deeper than the last.


    A retaliatory kick caught the cat in the chest, shattered three of her ribs, and sent her flying into a wall. It was difficult to determine which of them was more injured. Lia had blood dribbling from her lips, but one of the lungs in the horsier part of Claire¡¯s body had been damaged in the attack.


    The next round of exchanges kicked off when their eyes met again. Natalya practically flew off the wall. Shifting to a bipedal stance, she charged with her rapier in her hands and her lips twisted into a frown. She was also struggling to breathe, but the lack of oxygen had no effect on her speed. She took all seven inbound projectiles out of the air with a series of quick slashes. They were so fluid that it looked more like she was drawing than waving around a weapon.


    Because that was exactly what she was doing.


    Lia wasn¡¯t a mage. She lacked the classes, the magical knowledge, and even the ability scores required to cast a spell powerful enough to harm her lyrkrian foe. But her mana was not without purpose. By carving a symbol into the air, she could activate one of the magical abilities bestowed upon her as a runecraft berserker.


    ¡°Enrage. Level 1. Uniform.¡±


    Like a raging flame fed a vat of oil, her aura flared to life. She could feel her body growing stronger. Her eyes focused, her hearing sharpened, and her heart slowed. Everything calmed. Except for her mind.


    Her brain was on fire. Though her senses were heightened, she grew less cognizant of each individual object. Like her weapons, the horse snake became a blur of blues and whites. And blues and whites were bad. She needed to evade them and strike at them with her fangs and claws.


    She darted forward, the relic that was her blade held in front of her. The blue blur evaded her first swipe and launched a wave of smaller blue objects at her. She didn¡¯t know exactly how many there were, but she didn¡¯t care. Because it didn¡¯t matter. She swatted a third of them out of the air and dodged the rest, but they continued to pursue. The ones knocked to the ground lifted themselves back up, while those that had passed her by suddenly spun around and moved in reverse.


    Dodging again, she found that there were even more of them. Their shapes were no longer uniform; some were thinner, some were longer, and some were both or neither. There was even an extra large shape made out of something different, something colder, but whatever the case, they all shared a scent. They were just like the nice-smelling blue blur that she had to subdue.


    She tried ducking through the floating blue blobs as they flew at her, but there were too many. She was being kept on her feet by the constant flow. It didn¡¯t matter how much she parried or which ones she struck. They would always launch themselves at her again, giving her no room to breathe.


    Even with her mind hazy, she recognized that she was at a disadvantage.


    Level one was insufficient.


    ¡°Enrage. Level 2. Speed.¡±


    The next blue thing she struck was split in two. She couldn¡¯t exactly tell how large it was, or if she had come anywhere close to cutting it down the middle, but she knew that it was smaller. The two miniaturized halves continued to attack her, but she didn¡¯t care. Even when they pierced her limbs. She kept slashing and slashing. Because all she needed to do was cut all the blue things until they were too small to be blue.


    Before long, all the tiny blue things began falling apart; only the biggest one remained intact. It dodged when she lunged at it, moving in the same strange way that the other blue things did. And when she touched it, it didn¡¯t bleed. Or get sent flying. She didn¡¯t know why, but her hand stopped moving, and she was sent in the direction of her swing.


    Level 2 wasn¡¯t cutting it, but it had to. Level 3 was too hard to control; she was sure to break the blue thing and she needed it not broken so it could munch her. So she tackled it again.


    It produced another pair of weapons. There was a big blue thing and a long bendy thing, but the blue thing wasn¡¯t very good at using other blue things. Her eyes had an easy time following their trajectories as they arced through the air, nor did she struggle to block the attacks with her grey thing. But they were much heavier than she thought. Again, she was sent flying away, into the brown and grey thing all around her.


    Yowling, she kicked off the brown thing and spun through the air again. The attack was almost the same as the last one, so the blue thing reacted the same way. But only because it didn¡¯t notice that she had touched the blue thing on her grey thing. The blurry grey thing spun. Different parts got blurrier as they moved in different directions and sawed right through the blue thing¡¯s long thing.


    Dodging the bendy thing that followed, she cleaved at the blue thing with her claw. She could have slammed it into the blue thing¡¯s least blue part, but they both stopped just before she did.


    Knowing that it was over, the blue thing lowered her other blue things, so she too lowered her blade and finally expelled the air in her lungs, along with all the rune dust that had entered them.


    ¡°I win.¡±


    When the madness faded from her eyes, Lia found a broken icy halberd at her feet, and the relic that was her sister¡¯s sword glowing with a bright green light. Slowly looking up, she gazed upon the claw that she had held in front of the other girl¡¯s jugular, and pulled it away after looking at her still neutral face. A disappointing outcome. She had at least wanted to see surprise, or maybe even frustration, but there was nothing.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Throwing away the broken icy lump in her hands, Claire turned away and walked over to the fox. ¡°You win. This time.¡±


    ¡°Woah! What¡¯s up with that berserker class? Can you actually control yourself? Even though you aren¡¯t holy?¡± asked Sylvia. She sang and spoke at the same time, enveloping the pair in a warm layer of visible light.


    ¡°Sort of.¡± The catgirl smiled before looking at her opponent. ¡°Was that enough of a challenge?¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes just a bit. ¡°If we do it a few more times.¡±


    ¡°Maybe some other day.¡± Lia shook her head and sheathed her rapier. ¡°One round is already exhausting enough.¡±


    The lyrkress narrowed her eyes a little more before putting the fox on her head and turning around. ¡°Fine. Then let¡¯s go back to town.¡± She pulled her hood over her eyes before continuing under her breath. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I lost to a pervert.¡±


    Lia grabbed one of the other girl¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Can we please do away with this misunderstanding already? I swear to Tzaarkus, Claire, I¡¯m not a pervert, and I¡¯d really like you to stop calling me one.¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence. For once, Claire looked at her with a face that could be easily read, one that put her clear confusion on full display. It lasted for only a fraction of a second before once again losing all its emotions.


    ¡°Fine,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°But only if you can beat me. In another duel. Right now.¡±


    Lia glanced at her MP, which was only missing about a fourth of its total, before responding with a nod. ¡°Okay. If I win, I get to pet Sylvia, and you stop calling me a pervert. If you win, you can call me whatever you want.¡±


    ¡°Deal.¡±


    The two stepped back into position, readied themselves for round two, and began right after another klimgor exploder passed through the end of the hall.

 Chapter 154 - Farenlight’s Den IV

    Chapter 154 - Farenlight¡¯s Den IV


    ¡°Where are we going to sleep?¡±


    Claire voiced the question only after setting down her silverware and dabbing a napkin against the corners of her lips. She had spent over ten minutes nibbling away at the contents of her plate, but it looked no different from when she first received it. It was still stacked high with meat and potatoes, stewed together in a rich, buttery, red wine sauce. The hearty meal wasn¡¯t the most disgusting thing in the world, but neither was it particularly palatable. The lizard meat that made up its body was tough and gamey, and the potatoes tasted more like dirt than food. But it wasn¡¯t as if they had any other options with the time of day being what it was. The moon was already starting to set; they could go only to bars and other nighttime establishments, and even those had started shutting down their kitchens.


    The Dancing Dart, the tavern that they had visited, was no exception. It had stopped taking food orders shortly after their arrival and switched over to a menu made entirely of alcoholic beverages. Claire refrained from sampling the local poisons, but Lia had ordered a bottle of mead and poured herself a glass.


    ¡°It¡¯d be best for us to find ourselves an inn, but it seems a little late to be shopping around for rooms.¡± She swirled her drink around in her glass whilst giving the lyrkress a full serving of side eye. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t have been a problem if we started earlier, but¡­¡±


    ¡°It still isn¡¯t. We can camp out,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Oh, camping? I wanna go camping!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Are we gonna light up a bonfire and set up some tents and stuff? ¡®Cause that sounds like it¡¯d be loads of fun!¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s save the camping for when we¡¯re on the road. I¡¯d much rather have a roof over my head while we have the chance,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°But you just said that it was too late to shop around for rooms.¡± Still in her vulpine form, the fox looked up from her half-empty bowl and tilted her head. Unlike Vel¡¯rulm¡¯s overly touchy guards, the locals didn¡¯t quite seem to care that she was technically a vicious, egg-devouring predator. One of the barmaids had even patted her on the head and given her a complimentary side of rabbit stew. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that just mean we can¡¯t find a place to stay?¡±


    ¡°The problem is that it might be a bit tough to find a place with two rooms this late into the day. We might have to take whatever we can find.¡±


    ¡°Or¡­ we could camp. Pervert.¡±


    ¡°Please, please, please stop calling me that. I really don¡¯t want people overhearing and thinking that there¡¯s something wrong with me.¡± Lia hung her head and stared at the dead, lightless eyes reflected in her bowl.


    ¡°Yes, but I won. And you said that I could call you whatever I wanted.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± grumbled the soldier, ¡°but that really shouldn¡¯t have counted.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t my fault you tripped. Again,¡± lied the lyrkress.


    Claire had come out on top of the exchange by repeating her prior offense and grabbing ahold of the other girl¡¯s ankle right as the battle began. Lia had almost managed to scramble to her feet, but the 0.5 horsepower engine ran her over before she could regain her balance. It lost one of its hooves in the process, courtesy of the cat¡¯s blade, but the other landed on her wrist and disarmed her.


    ¡°I know, but I don¡¯t think I would¡¯ve lost if I didn¡¯t,¡± grumbled the cat. ¡°There¡¯s not much you can do to stop me once I enrage.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just enrage right away anyway?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°I thought berserkers could get mad whenever they felt like it.¡±


    Lia slowly looked up from her reflection and adjusted her glasses. ¡°We can, but my max health drops while I¡¯m enraged. It feels like a waste if I do it before I get hit.¡±


    ¡°Oh! You¡¯re that type of berserker! I thought you were the other type since you could kinda control yourself¡­ Wait, does that mean that you¡¯ve got a dark knight class as your third?¡±


    Most berserkers fell under one of two major classifications. Those that practiced the holy arts and learned to retain control were known as the hallowed, divine emissaries driven not by their own rage, but fervor and righteous fury as dictated by their gods. It was the more common variant, as most were afraid of surrendering their minds. The infamous bloodborne berserkers, on the other hand, knew no such fear. They channeled their anger, feeding and empowering it so that it would be more than a match for their holy counterparts¡¯. But there was a problem. The full extent of their power could only be drawn out on death¡¯s door. Hence their reliance on the dark arts.


    Unlike regular knights, who used their mana to demonstrate their might, dark knights operated off of their health instead. Their abilities were outstanding, with many performing absurd feats of strength, but the blood tolls they paid were heavy. It was impossible for the self-harming warriors to leverage them while too close to death. And that was why the two archetypes were so frequently combined. Their complementary skill sets allowed for a consistent, outstanding power draw for any willing to walk the brink of insanity.


    ¡°She can¡¯t be a knight,¡± said Claire. ¡°That requires an etiquette skill.¡±


    ¡°I have one,¡± said the cat, with an awkward smile. ¡°Paunsean court etiquette. It¡¯s level 3.¡±


    The lyrkress turned towards the catgirl and narrowed her eyes. ¡°Impossible. Your back isn¡¯t straight, you¡¯re often distracted and unfocused, and your table manners are beyond subpar. You eat with your fork in a reverse grip.¡±


    ¡°This is how you¡¯re supposed to eat!¡± whined the cat. ¡°Everyone in Paunse does it this way!¡±


    The blueblood rolled her eyes and raised her own fork to the catgirl¡¯s face. ¡°It has to be held with the points facing down. Your index finger should be against the back of its neck, and its handle should be between your thumb and middle finger.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t do it that way! Half of us have paws!¡±


    Paunse was a country made almost entirely of Alfred¡¯s creations. Part beast and part fairy like their canine prototypes, the supposedly perfected beings were molded exactly as he had desired. Unlike their forefathers, whose bodies were malleable, the completed life forms were unable to shift between a series of forms. Their body plans were determined only by their sex. The females were like Lia. They had fuzzy ears, long tails, pointed fangs, and slit eyes, but otherwise appeared almost entirely human. The males, however, looked almost exactly like the animals they were derived from. Cat-siths could only be distinguished by their eyes. Their pupils were human-like and would never narrow into vertical slits, regardless of the light. Outside of their homeland, they were often mistaken for overleveled, sentient pets.


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    Their sexual dimorphism showed not only through their outward appearances, but also their behaviour. Catgirls were known for being bubbly, flirtatious, and insecure, but cat-siths were none of those things. The oversized felines were firm in their convictions, and held a reputation for being disciplined, chaste, and zealous.


    ¡°Then your customs should differ. Between the two genders.¡±


    In Cadria, each race was judged by its own set of standards. Cottontails were expected to use their incisors in place of knives, and it was often rude to provide one with anything but a fork and a spoon. On the other hand, thorae had to be given straws to supplement their lack of hands, and formal events with them involved had to include food prepared in a liquid form. Centaurs may have been the most dominant race, but they were not unrestricted. They had to keep their hips straight and turn only their upper bodies when speaking to other individuals at the table.


    ¡°Having two standards just sounds silly. I don¡¯t even know why we have the one,¡± grumbled the cat. ¡°Etiquette is nothing but a waste of time.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yes it is. It¡¯s never going to see any real use.¡± Lia let out a deep breath as she set down her utensils and leaned back into her chair. ¡°Most Paunsean knights only ever learn the skill so we can unlock the class. We hardly ever use it.¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re stupid. Appearances are key.¡±


    Lia narrowed her eyes into a skeptical glare as she looked the half-centaur up and down. ¡°Claire¡­ are you Cadrian?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± The snake doubted that a poker face would convince the feline inquisitor, so she furrowed her brow and regarded her conversation partner with a tilt of the head. ¡°What makes you think that?¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯ve mentioned Cadria before, you look like you¡¯re at least part centaur, and you seem a little vain.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure Claire¡¯s just vain ¡®cause she¡¯s Claire,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°Nothing!¡± The fox brought a paw to her snout and giggled. She didn¡¯t struggle when she was abruptly lifted off the table, nor did she even stop eating. The silly vixen took her bowl with her and continued munching away.


    ¡°Stupid fox.¡± Smiling, Claire scratched the top of Sylvia¡¯s head and set her back down.


    ¡°If you¡¯re not Cadrian, then what are you?¡± asked the catgirl.


    ¡°None of your business.¡± The rogue picked her fork back up and cut into another piece of lizard meat. ¡°I¡¯ll hit you if you ask again.¡±


    ¡°Right. Sorry.¡±


    For a while, they continued eating in silence. It wasn¡¯t until three hard-to-swallow mouthfuls later that Claire finally broke the awkward silence.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you use any dark knight skills?¡± she asked, with a frown.


    ¡°You couldn¡¯t use any of your storm spells, so it just didn¡¯t seem fair. And it¡¯s not like you haven¡¯t seen them.¡±


    ¡°Wait, really?¡± Sylvia¡¯s tail flicked from left to right. ¡°I don¡¯t remember you using any¡­¡±


    ¡°I used one when I accidentally destroyed your home,¡± said Lia. ¡°That was how I managed to cut through all that stone.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah!¡± The fox clapped her paws. ¡°That¡¯s right! I almost forgot that you totally blew up the fort.¡±


    ¡°And not by accident,¡± added Claire.


    Lia opened her mouth to make a rebuttal, but a much gruffer voice cut her off before she could. ¡°I heard a group came from the capital to challenge Farenlight. That you three?¡± The speaker was the lobster in front of the table directly across from theirs. He was a giant of a specimen, with a tail nearing two meters in length and a head that was hardly any smaller. His arms and legs were the only out of place pieces. They were all entirely humanoid, despite his otherwise crustacean-like body.


    ¡°We¡¯re not. We just came from Vel¡¯rulm,¡± said Lia. ¡°We might consider fighting it, but it depends how much we can learn about the dungeon.¡±


    ¡°Well you¡¯re in luck,¡± said the person-lobster. Wiping off his mandibles, he swiveled around and greeted them with what was most likely a smile. ¡°I happen to deal in information. S¡¯why I called out to you in the first place.¡±


    Unlike the trio, who were seated in chairs, the oversized shrimp was situated inside of a glass tank. The underwater seating arrangement was widespread in Vel¡¯khan, especially in the areas with a larger population of fishpeople; it was often impossible for them to dine without submerging their bodies.


    ¡°Are you a registered broker?¡± asked Lia.


    He pressed a small card against the glass, retrieved from what Claire could only presume to be his shell¡¯s interior ¡°Best in town.¡± His lobster-like eyes glinting, the man rubbed his front legs together and chuckled. ¡°If you¡¯re not the group from Vel¡¯khagan, then that means you have to be the group that put down Vik Sinnue just the other day.¡±


    ¡°How di¡ª¡± Lia began raising her voice, but cut herself off as she was prodded in the back of the head with a properly held fork.


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask that.¡±


    ¡°Why not? Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s a little weird? We just got here today.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you ask.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s right. For all you know, I could run an underground crime ring, but it ain¡¯t your business.¡± The lobster chuckled and pressed his hands against the glass. ¡°All that matters is that you¡¯re interested and willing to pay, so why don¡¯t you just ask me whatever you wanted to know? Let¡¯s wrap up it up quick and call it a night, eh?¡±


    ¡°Right¡­ sure.¡± Lia still seemed a little uncertain, but she eventually settled her gaze on the man and took a deep breath. ¡°We were looking for a place with at least two rooms to stay the night.¡±


    ¡°Depends on what exactly you want. This shabby little town ain¡¯t rich enough to have any of those fancy places, but there¡¯s a few that hit around the middle of the road. Fat Crab¡¯s always got space, if you¡¯ve got a pretty penny or two to spare. It¡¯s the one near the middle of the town, two streets south of the job board. Seventeen copper pieces a room a night, fifteen if you tell ¡®em Kal sent you.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Lia grabbed five larger chunks of copper from her pouch and dropped them in the man¡¯s tank. ¡°How much do you know about the dungeon?¡±


    He glanced at the coins and shook his head. ¡°It¡¯ll take a lot more than fifty copper pieces if you want me to tell you everything I know. It¡¯s worth another silver, at least.¡±


    Lia had started reaching for her coin pouch when he first complained, but hesitated as she was told the amount. ¡°You want a whole silver piece? That seems a little too expensive.¡±


    ¡°I can tell you everything you¡¯ll ever need. I¡¯ve even got a good few good reports on the last few parties to take Farenlight on and come out alive.¡±


    The catgirl frowned, but eventually gave in to his demands. ¡°Fine.¡± She produced one of the silver coins she had acquired from the afternoon¡¯s raids and, with a small sigh, tossed it into his tank¡ªa sequence that had the lyrkress rolling her eyes.


    ¡°Yes, yes, this will do.¡± Clacking his jaws, he examined the coin with an eyeglass before pushing half his upper body up out of the aquarium and giving the trio a bright, briney smile. Without waiting for the salt water to drop off his frame, he immediately broke into a long-winded lecture detailing the various layouts, the monsters they contained, and the common strategies used to defeat them.


    Claire managed to hold her interest for a grand total of three minutes before zoning out. She had no motivation to play the part of an eager student, especially not with Lia already filling the role. Before long, she dozed off with her back straight, her head held high, and her arms placed in her lap. Just as she so often did in Allegra¡¯s presence.

 Chapter 155 - Farenlight’s Den V

    Chapter 155 - Farenlight¡¯s Den V


    His skin bubbling and a heavy sweat dripping down his brow, a wounded kelpfin heaved a series of heavy, bloody breaths. Using his sword as a crutch, he pushed himself back to his feet just in time to evade the lash of a tongue. The dodge strained his broken ribs, forcing one snapped bone into his gut and another out the front of his chest.


    A greener warrior would likely have fallen then and there, but for one of the den¡¯s spelunkers, it was an everyday occurrence. Hunting the big-eyed lizards was an art that could not be easily perfected. They ranged anywhere from level 60 to 140, and it was impossible to differentiate between the weak and the strong at a glance. Guesses could be made, based on where they were discovered, but they were just that. Guesses. There was no reliable consistency; the individuals that dwelled on the tenth floor would sometimes wander up, whether they were being culled or not.


    Still, it shouldn¡¯t have been a problem. Rekh¡¯s group was made up of four level 150 fighters. Three were frontliners, while the last was a mage specialised in supporting fire. Each member of the group could single handedly take on two or perhaps even three ikarett variants, and together, they could handle roughly thirty. On the sixth floor, groups rarely got any bigger than ten. It should have been fine for them to rest in one of the dungeon¡¯s many isolated corners. But on that particular day, the alcove was anything but safe.


    Over seventy lizards had sprung on them out of the blue, led by a larger metallic variant. They had lost their backline attacker in the ambush. The unlucky lad was struck in the head by a fist-sized rock before he was able to put up a shield. The others had rushed to defend him, but a barrage of spells left their efforts in vain. There were too many projectiles for them to stop; Waedh was pelted until his skull was bloodied and broken.


    The disorganised, haphazard attempt at a rescue had crippled the rest of the group¡¯s fighters. Rekh was the luckiest. He had only been struck in the chest; his body was still fully functional, the pain accompanying his broken rib the only deterrent. The other two were worse off. One had his dominant wrist broken, while the other sported an injured pelvis that made it difficult for him to twist his hips. They were in bad shape. Considering that there were another sixty-odd lizards to kill.


    ¡°Can¡¯t say I expected it to end any other way.¡±


    One of the men laughed as he dodged another wave of rocks and bashed an ikarett with the pommel of his blade.


    ¡°Chin up. We¡¯ll be fine¡± said Rekh. As leader, he was obligated to maintain the team¡¯s morale, even if it meant lying to their faces. Like the others, he was well aware that dungeons were often unpredictable, and their frequent explorers were likely to lose their lives in one freak accident or another. But the risk wasn¡¯t without reward. Even an average dungeon diver was able to provide his family with an upper-middle class income; some particularly lucky veterans were so wealthy that they could afford an early retirement, a plot of land in the capital, and an easy life for all that shared their blood. ¡°Focus on killing as many as you can. We might be able to make it if one of us can squeeze out a level.¡±


    ¡°It ain¡¯t happening, boss. Takes over a thousand of these things to get one, and my closest class is only 300 in.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m about 100 away.¡±


    Rekh grimaced. ¡°Both of you are closer than I am.¡± None of his classes were even approaching the halfway mark.


    ¡°Orp, you and I are gonna have to charge in and mess up their lines, Krav, you run through the middle as soon as you see a chance. Get back to town and tell Melly what¡¯s happened.¡±


    ¡°Got it, boss.¡±


    The tallest of the three kelpfins nodded as he struck down another lizard that got too close. Even without his dominant hand, the rogue was capable of delivering a slash that cut straight through the monster¡¯s neck.


    ¡°Ready, Orp?¡±


    The other warrior nodded as he deflected a wave of magical rocks with his shield. ¡°Anytime.¡±


    ¡°Just what I¡¯ve been waiting to hear.¡±


    Rekh kicked off the ground. He ignored most of the rocks blasted at him, parrying only the ones that threatened to hit him in the head. The rest bounced right off his skin as the rush skill took over his body. But despite his vigour, he never quite made it into the crowd.


    A ray of searing light beat him to the punch. The beam swept across the battlefield and melted half the lizards where they stood. It was followed by a loud, feral roar. A giant dressed in a full suit of armour ploughed through the swarm with a metal club whose dimensions were almost identical to her own. Every lizard in her way was pulverised, crushed beneath her seven meter-tall frame.


    ¡°You three okay?¡±


    A lizardman waved at the group from down the hall. He and two others, a fishman ranger and a grug mage, followed in the giant¡¯s wake with their weapons sheathed and their bodies relaxed.


    ¡°Just peachy, thanks,¡± said Rekh. He fell to one knee with his sword buried in the dirt in front of him. ¡°You really saved our asses there.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯d have done the same, if our positions were reversed,¡± said the reptile.


    ¡°We would have tried, at least,¡± said the shark. ¡°Who are you anyway? Can¡¯t say I recognize any of you.¡±


    The lizardman responded with an embarrassed smile. ¡°We¡¯re new in town. I¡¯m Wren, and we¡¯re a part of Glarchst¡¯s Fangs. Or at least we will be, if we manage to kill Farenlight.¡±


    ¡°With power like that, I don¡¯t doubt you can.¡± Rekh extended a hand, which was soon taken and shook. ¡°I¡¯m Rekh. We¡¯re the Fishguard Four. Well¡­ three now.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for your loss.¡± Wren lowered his head. ¡°Do you need us to escort you back up to the surface?¡±


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    ¡°No, we¡¯ll be fine, thanks.¡± The shark shook his head. ¡°They caught us off guard that time. The waves aren¡¯t nearly this large, normally at least.¡±


    The giant reptile nodded and flicked his tongue. ¡°So I¡¯ve heard. All the groups we¡¯ve run into so far have been saying that there¡¯s something wrong with the dungeon today.¡±


    ¡°All the groups? It isn¡¯t just us?¡±


    The two-legged snake shook his head. ¡°You guys are the fourth.¡±


    ¡°Fourth?¡± The shark crossed his arm flippers and tapped his leg flippers against the floor. ¡°That¡¯s far too many for it to be a coincidence. We better get a move on.¡±


    ¡°Good luck.¡±


    ¡°You too. Don¡¯t die.¡±


    Exchanging another pair of nods, the two party leaders each rounded up their groups and set out on their way. For Rekh, Waedh¡¯s death was the last straw; he was ready to return to the big city and retire. He had accrued enough funds for a life and a half. Funds he would never get to spend. Because like his deceased friend, he would never again see the light of day.


    ___


    ¡°What do you all think of the latest reports? Have any of you thought of a way to stop him?¡±


    General Larsen, an old Kryddarian with a coat of grey fur, leaned back into his silken cocoon as he scanned the room. The question had come after a brief discussion regarding the tea recently delivered to their base. The ladies and gentlemen gathered had each taken a turn to give their impressions on the substitute as they sat leisurely around the table. In short, his queries were entirely unprompted. But everyone understood them. One by one, the chattering officers fell silent and lowered their eyes to their cups.


    Because they were the exact questions they had all been trying to avoid.


    In the blink of an eye, Cadria¡¯s calamity had taken nearly a fifth of the country. He marched straight through Meerfog Gorge and eliminated every soldier that dared to face him. The elites they had borrowed from Paunse, their neighbour and close ally, had suffered the same fate as the common rabble. If the reports were to be believed, none of them had managed to so much as land a blow.


    ¡°There has to be a mistake!¡± An old three-armed captain bashed his fist against the table and knocked over his cup. ¡°There were only a hundred of them. That¡¯s hardly two platoons! There¡¯s no way in hell ten thousand men can lose to just a hundred!¡±


    He wasn¡¯t the only one in disbelief. Of the eleven seated around the table, five were in accord. A lieutenant, and three warrant officers were nodding their heads, while another pair of captains looked on sympathetically. They understood his denial; he wasn¡¯t the only one to have lost an heir to the brutal slaughter. But the remaining five had a completely different set of opinions.


    ¡°What are you suggesting, Ivar?¡± The only non combatant, the minister of surveillance and internal affairs narrowed his eyes into a glare. He was a much younger man of a smaller stature, standing at only a meter and a half to Ivar¡¯s three. ¡°That my men are lying to you, perhaps?¡± But despite his tiny size, his slicked back hair and his tiny glasses, he was intimidating as a cold-blooded killer. His glare was sharp enough to send shivers even up some of the veterans¡¯ spines.


    ¡°No. But they may be mistaken.¡±


    ¡°My men don¡¯t make mistakes, Ivar.¡±


    ¡°Maybe in times of peace.¡± The three-arm scoffed. ¡°This is war, Mr. Sedersen. You can never know anything for sure.¡±


    ¡°Is this why you refuse to budge?¡± The minister stood up from his chair and leaned forward with his hands pressed against the table, his voice a low hiss. ¡°Because you don¡¯t think that the surveillance corps are to be trusted?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t trust them, I just don¡¯t think they understand the circumstances as well as they make themselves out to.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the one that doesn¡¯t understand!¡±


    ¡°Enough!¡± A loud boom echoed throughout the meeting room as the old general sat up from his cocoon and thumped his cane against the stone floor. ¡°We are not here to argue. We are looking for a way to stop the Cadrian menace before its poison spreads any further into our lands.¡±


    ¡°With all due respect, sir, I stand by my previous suggestion,¡± said the minister. ¡°You should give up and evacuate. Duke Augustus will be here by tomorrow evening at the latest. If an army with 10,000 men couldn¡¯t get the better of him, then one with only 700 is unlikely to last any more than a moment.¡± He looked around the room as he adjusted his tie and returned to his seat, expecting to see nods of agreement. But there were none. He was regarded with little but disdain, even by those that had previously appeared to be on his side.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Mr. Sedersen, but we cannot retreat,¡± said Larsen. ¡°We will stand our ground and fight to the last.¡±


    ¡°Are you insane, General?¡± The minister raised his brow. ¡°Do you not understand that your forces are needed? We have to gather all the troops we can, or else we¡¯ll never be able to defend Gnaruhn¡¯s Valley.¡±


    The old man shook his head. ¡°Please understand, Mr. Sedersen. This is our land. We cannot abandon it.¡±


    ¡°Ownership means nothing if we lose the war,¡± spat the younger moth.


    ¡°While you are not entirely incorrect, I also don¡¯t believe you see the point.¡± The old warrior got up from his cocoon and limped his way to a window. ¡°Perhaps our troops will be able to get away, if we retreat now, yes. But it¡¯s too late to evacuate the citizenry.¡± He turned around and faced the other man with a frown, his pale grey eyes filled with a fiery glow. ¡°And as I¡¯m sure you know even better than I, the warriors of House Augustus may as well be demonspawn. They will not hesitate to raze every town, village and city they cross. There will be no survivors. Not even the women or children will be spared.¡±


    ¡°I understand that. But¡ª¡±


    ¡°You understand it as fact, perhaps. But I have good reason to believe that you are failing to grasp what it truly entails.¡± The general¡¯s knuckles went white as he tightened his grip on his cane. ¡°If we let him defile our people and our lands, then there will be nothing left for our soldiers to fight for. They won¡¯t be defending their properties or their countrymen. Because there won¡¯t be any homes or loved ones for them to return to.¡±


    ¡°I know that, general, but we can rebuild what was lost. So long as Kryddar conti¡ª¡±


    ¡°Enough, Mr. Sedersen, enough.¡± The old man glared as his tone turned harsh. ¡°Kryddar is already doomed. A kingdom is nothing without its people, and the aspect of war will slaughter all of ours. Whether we resist or not.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all the more reason to obey His Majesty¡¯s orders an¡ª¡± He tried to explain his point. But again, he was cut off.


    ¡°It¡¯s too late.¡±


    ¡°We still have a day. That¡¯s more than enough time to get a march on!¡±


    ¡°No, Minister. We don¡¯t.¡± General Larsen pointed his cane out the window, towards the path leading to the fortress¡¯ open gate, where a single cervitaur marched. Even from afar, his frame was clear. There were no locals disfigured enough to have four legs and two arms.


    ¡°What!? That¡¯s impossible!¡± shouted the minister. He broke into a cold, shivering sweat as his legs gave out beneath him. ¡°He isn¡¯t due for another day.¡±


    ¡°You see? I told you.¡± Captain Ivar laughed as he got up from his seat and put on his helmet. ¡°This is why I said that war wasn¡¯t predictable.¡±


    ¡°No, no, no! This can¡¯t be right! He was seen in Uryli¡¯s Creek this morning! That¡¯s twenty leagues away!¡±


    ¡°You placed your belief in the wrong men.¡± Like the general, the captain put his hand to his blade and stepped out onto the balcony. ¡°While you chose to believe in your agents, we chose to believe in our enemies.¡± He turned to his commanding officer, who had already drawn his blade and raised it above his head.


    Taking a deep breath, the good general raised his voice for all the fort¡¯s troops to hear. ¡°Proud men and women of Andor Spring, warriors of Kryddar! The enemy has arrived on our doorstep. Prepare for combat immediately!¡±


    At the older warrior¡¯s signal, the Kryddarian officers leapt from the meeting room and formed up with their men. Each had only a few platoons at most. Still, they would fight the monster that threatened their lands. Just as every soldier still present had agreed.

 Chapter 156 - Farenlight’s Den VI

    Chapter 156 - Farenlight¡¯s Den VI


    When Claire opened her eyes, she found herself within the confines of the manor¡¯s courtyard. She was seated in a fancy gazebo, garnished from one end to the other with beautiful flowers in full bloom. Glowing lilies, vibrant roses, and dazzling orchids decorated every last nook and cranny, completely obscuring the dark cherrywood with which the pavilion was made. Allegra was sitting on the other side of the table, lecturing away at a thousand words a minute. It would have been a familiar scene, if not for the conflicted look on the tutor¡¯s face and the unfamiliar book in her hands.


    Though the cottontail¡¯s voice was silent, just like everything else, the halfbreed could tell it was a lecture on curses and their applications; there was no other reason for the grand magus to be discussing the sacrificial use of shoggoths. While Claire had very little of the otherworldly void beasts committed to memory, she knew that the lecture covered an aspect she had yet to learn anything about; its contents matched perfectly with the previously unseen page opened up in front of her.


    She almost reflexively started dozing off, but grabbed ahold of herself right before she fell asleep¡ªa concern she soon labeled absurd. She was already asleep. The tutor, the book, and the manor were all hallucinations born of her unconscious mind.


    Dismissing the thought with a small smile, she picked up the educational text and hurled it as far as she could. Her strength being what it was, she expected the projectile to fly over the manor and off into the sky. But it didn¡¯t even clear the building. It crashed into one of the many oversized glass panes and bounced off without leaving so much as a mark.


    Raising her hands to her face, she joined her tutor in staring in confusion. But the difference was that Allegra was staring not at her open palms, but rather the halfbreed herself.


    Claire caught the discrepancy out of the corner of her eye, but she was too distracted to pay it any mind. Her hands were thin and dainty, like they should have been, and her scales were in all the right places. At a glance, it didn¡¯t look like there was anything wrong with them. But they weren¡¯t hers. The way they moved was unfamiliar. They were too noodly; the limbs felt more like parts of Shouldersnake¡¯s body than her own. Her skeleton should have stopped her from twisting her wrist all the way or bending her elbows back at an impossible angle. But it didn¡¯t. She could contort her arms however she wished.


    Her bones were just as non-present as her muscles. It was all just goop, a thick black goop made to take on a shape. She tried to manipulate it, to change the slime into something else as Allegra shouted at her, but her body suddenly started to go away. Everything started to go away. It all got further and further and further as something pulled on her blouse and dragged her out of the inexplicable delusion.


    When the force was released, she turned around to find the culprit sitting on a sofa with a boyish grin plastered all over his lips. She tried to protest, by stomping the ground, but he wasn¡¯t discouraged. The toothy smile remained until she took the artifact out of his hands and looked towards the glowing box mounted atop his wall.


    She focused her eyes on the magical device, only to stop in her tracks as her finger touched its multidirectional lever. Because only then did she realise that she wasn¡¯t supposed to be able to touch anything.


    Her materiality wasn¡¯t the only discrepancy. The man¡¯s spirit was certainly present, but his body was nowhere to be found. An unsettling, sinking fear washing over her, she sprinted through his house and made for the bathroom. Somehow, her feet knew where it was, a fact that only deepened her concern.


    Reaching the destination and looking in the mirror brought a sigh of relief. Her worries were moot. Her form was still hers. She hadn¡¯t somehow come to possess him.


    Upon returning to the spirit¡¯s living room, she realised that there was a foot sticking out from under the couch, and a quick investigation confirmed that the rest of his body was also sequestered away, beneath the leather seat. She had been worried for nothing. But the questions of why and how were still up in the air.


    Sitting down, she picked up the artifact and returned it to its previous position, several times in a row, before turning to the man and shrugging, but he didn¡¯t quite seem to get the message. He ran his mouth, but his words were silent and unreadable, until they manifested in the back of her mind as text.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± A strange whisper appeared along with them. It was quiet, but messy and muddled, like a thousand voices all speaking the same words at once.


    Shaking her head, she pursed her lips and walked through the room. The device was just one of the many things she could touch; the doors, the couch, and everything else could all be easily accessed, as they could outside her dreams. But her control only extended to her palms and fingers. Her arms could still phase through the world, and her legs and body could do the same.


    There was no explanation. If anything, the man appeared put off by her confusion, so she shook her head free of her concerns, slowly floated over to the screen and manipulated her tiny, projected self with the artifact in her hands. She pressed the buttons one, two, three at a time and moved her body in ways she thought impossible. Her fingers grew faster as she continued to operate the tool. And the actions grew smoother. Her tiny body was practically a blur, transitioning between various attacks and transformations with all the fluidity of the sea.


    Log Entry 5567


    Artifact Manipulation has reached level 6.


    She stood up shortly after gaining the skill level and tried out mini Claire¡¯s moves for herself. She kicked as a centaur, slide-tackled as a humanoid, and strangled as a lamia. With her form incorporeal, it all went smoothly, but she knew that it would be more difficult once she got back into her body. It wasn¡¯t as flexible as her spirit. Its parts would sometimes get in each other¡¯s way, simply because of its size.


    By the end of the night, she had dueled nine other mini people, seven times each. She didn¡¯t even notice that the sun had started to rise until she opened her status, noted all the skills that had leveled, and accidentally looked out the window.


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    Something soft pressed itself against her face as the light blinded her. She was half expecting everything to turn black, but it blurred instead. It wasn¡¯t until the world came back into focus that she realised the dream had abated. And that the thing on her face was a paw.


    ¡°Claire! Wake up already!¡±


    The comforting weight was centered on the bridge of her nose, pressing down with just enough force to bring about a sense of relaxation. The way she was slowly shaken only added to the comfort. She felt like a child in a cradle, warm and secure.


    ¡°What the heck! Don¡¯t go back to sleep, Claire, come on! Wake up!¡±


    ¡°Five more minutes.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! Not this again!¡± Sylvia shook the lyrkress again, this time, with more force. ¡°Get up! There¡¯s only like an hour left till noon!¡±


    Claire snuck her hands behind the fox, pulled her into her chest, and rolled so they were both under the sheets. ¡°Don¡¯t feel like it.¡±


    ¡°But we¡¯re supposed to go dungeon diving today!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Without loosening her grip, she reached behind the critter¡¯s head and scratched the back of her ears. ¡°But I don¡¯t feel like it yet.¡±


    ¡°Really? Why not? Weren¡¯t you super excited about it yesterday?¡± Sylvia fixed her posture and got comfortable before leaning into the hand.


    ¡°But it turned out to be boring. Everything was weak. I didn¡¯t even level up,¡± complained the lyrkress.


    ¡°Yeah, but didn¡¯t you end up fighting Lia? And she even beat you up, so it¡¯s not like it was all easy.¡±


    ¡°Shush.¡± Claire briefly pinched the fox¡¯s nose. ¡°I won the second round. And she¡¯s not a part of the dungeon. My point still stands.¡±


    ¡°Why do you like fighting so much anyway?¡± asked the fairy.


    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! That¡¯s a lie and you know it!¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t.¡± She gave the fox a light squeeze. ¡°I don¡¯t care about fighting. I just want levels. My father¡¯s men will come for me soon. And I need to be able to fend them off.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Sylvia rubbed her cheek against the other girl¡¯s collar before slowly looking up. ¡°Are you sure he knows already? Because like, it¡¯s not like we really even stand out that much. There¡¯s a bunch of different kinds of people here, so it¡¯s hard to pick you out in a crowd, and you don¡¯t even always look the same as you did when we first met.¡±


    ¡°He knows.¡± Claire twisted her lips into a frown as she recalled all the spies that flowed in and out of the manor each day. ¡°I¡¯m sure of it.¡±


    ¡°Well uhmm¡­ I mean, if it makes you feel better, I can sing them away if they ever show up.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Sylvia. But no thanks. There¡¯s no point. If I don¡¯t do it myself.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Sylvia scampered up onto one of Claire¡¯s shoulers and gave her ear a hug. ¡°Just make sure you tell me if you ever end up changing your mind.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    Looking past the fox, Claire took a moment to cast her gaze on the cat standing in the doorway. Lia didn¡¯t quite seem to know what she was supposed to be doing with herself. An awkward smile on her face, she played around with her fingers whilst shifting her eyes between the bed and the floor. She was clearly waiting to be noticed, so Claire turned the other way and pretended she hadn¡¯t spotted her.


    ¡°Soooo¡­ uhmmm¡­ when are you gonna get out of bed?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°In five minutes.¡±


    ¡°But you said that like five minutes ago!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± She slowly sat up whilst holding the sheets in place with her tail, so the pervert wouldn¡¯t have the chance to see her in her negligee.


    After lifting the fox off her shoulders and placing her on the bed, Claire transformed the sleepwear into her usual armour set. She took a moment to look over the various items she had set down next to her bed, only to leak a quiet groan. The chain was the only weapon she had left; the others had all been destroyed in the previous day¡¯s spar. The metallic link-whip wasn¡¯t particularly outstanding, courtesy of its lack of lethality, but it also wasn¡¯t completely useless. While it lacked the weight or sharpness to bludgeon or cut her enemies, it did at least serve as a useful tool against anything that could easily be strangled.


    ¡°Wait a second! Now you¡¯re getting up even though you just said you weren¡¯t gonna!¡± shouted Sylvia.


    ¡°I can go back to sleep. If you¡¯re going to complain.¡±


    The fox pressed both paws to her lips as her tail shot straight up. ¡°I wasn¡¯t complaining!¡±


    ¡°Whatever you say.¡± With a quiet giggle, she gave the foxy pupper another pat and got to her feet.


    ¡°Good morning, Claire.¡± Lia greeted her with a smile as soon as their eyes finally made contact. It was a gentle look, one that betrayed no hint of the awkwardness that she had previously been doused in. ¡°I hope you had a good night¡¯s rest. Today is going to be a long day.¡±


    ¡°Good morning.¡± She inspected the room again, just to make sure she hadn¡¯t left anything behind. ¡°Are we heading right into the dungeon?¡±


    ¡°Of course not.¡± The cat put her hands on her hips and frowned. ¡°We need to get everything ready first. Remember what Kalvin told us yesterday?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°N-no?¡± blinked the cat.


    ¡°I stopped listening and fell asleep. Before he listed any of the details.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± The completely honest response had the former soldier momentarily appalled, but she soon recovered and shook her confusion away. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t realise that you were that tired.¡± She fiddled with her hair and put on an awkward smile. ¡°You can tell me next time. I know mages don¡¯t have as much stamina as warriors, so I promise I won¡¯t hold it against you.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°So? What did he say?¡±


    ¡°The dungeon is nearly thirty floors deep. We¡¯ll have to buy several weeks¡¯ worth of supplies if we want to make it to Farenlight and back.¡±


    ¡°How strong is it?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°He said it was about level 400, but it might be a little higher since it¡¯s been a while since anyone¡¯s last fought it.¡± She opened up her notebook and adjusted her glasses. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be any higher than 410, so I think we should have a good shot at taking it down.¡±


    Claire placed a hand on her chin. If the apex predator was around level 400, then the monsters it ate would likely be worth killing as well. ¡°We won¡¯t need supplies. I can make food.¡±


    ¡°I know, but I think we should get some just in case we get split up. We might also want to buy some other equipment, like extra bags so we can carry everything we find.¡±


    ¡°Wait, there¡¯s treasure?¡± Sylvia popped up from behind Claire¡¯s head with her eyes shining.


    ¡°Not treasure, monster parts,¡± said Lia. ¡°Some of the tougher species have valuable pelts and horns. We might be able to make some extra money if we take them back with us.¡±


    ¡°Not a bad idea. For a stupid cat,¡± said Claire.


    Stretching her arms one last time, the lyrkress steeled herself for all the bloodshed to come and waltzed right out the door.

 Chapter 157 - Farenlight’s Den VII

    Chapter 157 - Farenlight¡¯s Den VII


    Claire fought back the urge to yawn as she lazily trekked her way through the dungeon¡¯s fifth floor. Compared to the previous day, its halls were practically free of spelunkers. And because the monster hunters were less common, their prey was left to roam and repopulate the halls undisturbed. Lizards of all shapes and sizes crawled out of the walls and assaulted them at every turn.


    One such reptile had found itself particularly unfortunate. Unlike the subjects it led, the unique variant had a body made of a dense steel. The blade of ice Claire smashed into its face had failed to penetrate its skin and none of the other methods she tried had left any lasting damage. Making the obvious choice, she paralyzed it with her eyes, picked it up by its stiffened tail, and turned it into a weapon. The club was so effective that she took it with her from encounter to encounter. When not in use, it was strapped to her back, taking the spot of her long lost bone mace.


    Given its peculiarities, the weapon earned her a number of confused looks, both from her companions and the groups they passed by. The few monster hunters that remained were still suspicious, as they had been the previous day, but they were at least friendly enough to approach and warn the newcomers against venturing too deep. Of the seven they encountered, six were in the midst of returning, citing a disastrous encounter as the reason for their departure.


    ¡°Holy crap! Look over there!¡± Sylvia stuck out her paw and pointed at a pile of bones as they rounded a corner. Some were still covered with bits of flesh and sinew, but most were picked clean, their meat fully consumed.


    Lia briefly looked over the corpse before examining a nearby wall. ¡°These are fresh. The blood hasn¡¯t dried.¡± Her finger was traced upon a crimson stain, somewhat flaky, but still moist enough to rub onto her skin.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Claire approached one of the larger corpses and rummaged through it. The landshark¡¯s gear was ruined, and his sword was bent out of shape, but the cartilage that made up his front fin was still intact.


    ¡°I know.¡± The catgirl momentarily pressed her fist to her chest before turning back to her lyrkrian companion. ¡°Wait¡­ errr¡­ Claire?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± The scavenger tested the fin-blade as she spoke, lightly swinging it to and fro.


    ¡°N-nothing, nevermind.¡± Lia took a breath, shook her head, and stepped over the other two corpses in the hall. ¡°Let¡¯s keep going. We need to reach floor 15 by nightfall.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Claire strapped the pectoral fin to her back, right next to the still-paralyzed lizard, and continued on her way.


    The next few legs of their journey were smooth. They reached the tenth floor with no issues and passed right through the barrier. The hole Claire left was still present, but they opted instead to use the device as it was meant, parting it with a swipe of Lia¡¯s card before continuing their rapid descent.


    The area immediately beyond the partition may as well have been empty. Rare exploders aside, they failed to encounter any monsters until they descended another two flights of stairs. Floor thirteen¡¯s freakish, headless chameleons were nowhere near as docile as their explosive counterparts. Like all the monsters on floors one through ten, they were hostile and aggressive, willing to attack whatever they saw at a moment¡¯s notice. Their approach, however, was more subtle. The sly assassins crept about in the darkness, hiding in the cave¡¯s many shadows, but never were their ambushes successful. Lia would always dispatch them, right as they lashed with their tongues.


    She remained in the spotlight even on the floor that followed. The colour-agnostic lizards went from sparse to overflowing, with the once-solo hunters attacking in groups of five to ten. The change was drastic, but the blademaster was completely unfazed¡ªeverything that came within reach of her blade was immediately dispatched. Claire only had two of the hundred-odd kills to her name. Both, she had clubbed to death with her reptilian mace, which had shifted from being paralyzed to desperately but unconvincingly playing dead.


    Floor fourteen came with a change in the dungeon¡¯s aesthetic. The bland-looking cave gave way to a series of carefully carved stone tunnels. All its floors, walls, and ceilings were tiled with regular patterns, rectangles folded in on themselves, over and over and over again. A soft red light radiated from within the gaps, the glow of an underground vein.


    ¡°It¡¯s untapped. Strange.¡±


    Claire pressed a hand against the arcane torrent and stole a tiny bit of its mana.


    ¡°A little, but it makes sense.¡± Lia spoke as she cut down another almost invisible threat. ¡°They can¡¯t just have workers coming in and out of these floors. The exploders could be incredibly dangerous, if they ever got into town.¡±


    Magical veins were to ether what springs were to water. They were considered precious resources, and it made little sense to ignore one in an environment as controlled as a small dungeon. She couldn¡¯t help but think that the local authorities were either stupid, insane, or both.


    ¡°Maybe this one¡¯s new! Who knows, we could be the first people to ever find it,¡± chirped the resident fox.


    The outlandish proposal put Lia at a loss. She raised her free hand to her face, pushed up her glasses, and pinched the bridge of her nose.


    ¡°U-Uhmm¡­ Lia? Are you okay?¡± The source of the catgirl¡¯s stress tilted her head and innocently wagged her tail.


    ¡°Was I really the only one listening last night?¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡± Sylvia stuck out her tongue and scratched the back of her head. ¡°Seeing Claire sleepy made me sleepy. So uhmmm¡­ I miiiiight¡¯ve stopped paying attention.¡±


    Lia pressed her face deeper into her hands and massaged her brow. ¡°How have the two of you made it this far?¡±


    ¡°Easily,¡± said one halfbreed.


    ¡°Ummmm¡­ I dunno. We just kinda did,¡± said the other. ¡°And just for the record, Claire¡¯s the only one of us that¡¯s reckless!¡±


    ¡°Liar.¡± The walking chair looked up at her hat and narrowed her eyes. ¡°You tried to dethrone a celestial. In his domain. With a shoddily constructed plan that he dismantled without your knowledge.¡±


    ¡°Hey, no fair! You can¡¯t just nitpick like that!¡± The fox drummed her mount¡¯s head in protest. ¡°That was a one time thing, and I¡¯m pretty sure I only did it because you started rubbing off on me! Besides, you¡¯re the one that tried to trick him into giving you a bunch of levels for free!¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t try to trick him,¡± said Claire. ¡°I did trick him.¡±


    ¡°Whatever, same difference!¡± said Sylvia, with a huff.


    ¡°Succeeding is more impressive.¡±


    ¡°You two come up with the funniest stories sometimes.¡± Lia giggled as she rounded the corner.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    The fox opened her mouth, but Claire cut the furball with a finger to her lips and signaled for silence with her eyes.


    Sylvia flashed a clear pout, but spoke in her usual tone. ¡°I know, right! I bet we could totally start our own troupe, if Claire could actually sing.¡±


    ¡°I can sing. I just don¡¯t have the skill.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± asked Lia, with a curious flick of the tail. ¡°I thought everyone had it, since you just have to well¡­ sing.¡±


    ¡°There are extenuating circumstances.¡± Claire used the lizard mace¡¯s arm to grab the catgirl¡¯s hood before she could walk too far down the hall. ¡°Wait. I hear something.¡± The whole motion was awkward and she struggled to get the animal to obey her commands, but anything was better than suffering through another one of her Alfred-induced fits.


    His influence was strong, but it wasn¡¯t omnipresent or all powerful. Getting over the initial shock had come with the ability to suppress it. Whenever she focused, the meows would grow as quiet as they had been back in Llystletein. So long as they didn¡¯t make contact. And even then, she could resist. It grew weaker each time she fought back; she was confident that remaining in the catgirl¡¯s vicinity would eventually allow her to completely overcome it.


    ¡°If you were listening last night,¡± grumbled the cat, ¡°you¡¯d know why. There¡¯s a boss room up ahead.¡± Lia exchanged glances with the nervous lizard holding her in place before carefully dislodging the monster¡¯s arm. ¡°Sorry, Boris,¡± she whispered, ¡°but I can¡¯t help you.¡±


    ¡°Boris?¡± asked Claire, with a twitch of the ear.


    ¡°H-huh?¡± Natalya reacted with a violent start. Nearly jumping out of her skin, she bashed her shoulder into a particularly tough metal object. ¡°Ow!¡±


    ¡°Why did you name it?¡±


    ¡°I dunno, he just seems like a Boris,¡± said the cat, as she rubbed her shoulder. ¡°And how did you hear that? I could¡¯ve sworn I whispered it under my breath.¡±


    ¡°With my ears,¡± said Claire. ¡°There¡¯s no reason to name it. It¡¯s just a weapon.¡±


    ¡°Weapons can have names too,¡± insisted the cat. ¡°My swor¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know.¡± Claire silenced the catgirl by prodding her face with the lizard¡¯s snout. ¡°But not person names.¡±


    ¡°Person names aren¡¯t even that weird, I think!¡± chimed Sylvia. ¡°Dad¡¯s sword is supposed to be named Frederick¡¯s Lament.¡±


    ¡°Stupid fox.¡± The lyrkress flicked the bottom of her hat¡¯s nose. ¡°That¡¯s not a person¡¯s name.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it has a person¡¯s name in it.¡±


    ¡°Not the same.¡±


    ¡°Yes it is!¡±


    ¡°Can we have this conversation later?¡± asked Lia, as she poked her head around the corner. ¡°I think it¡¯s already noticed us.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Claire slung Boris back over her shoulder and followed the cat down the hall.


    The next turn led to a massive atrium, a wide-open room with a ceiling of at least fifty meters. Light almost seemed to stream in from above, even though they were deep underground. The solar crystals embedded in the ceiling served to illuminate it in much the same manner as a roofless home beneath the blazing afternoon sun. Giant stone pillars were placed at regular intervals, forming a hall that highlighted the lizard at its far end.


    There was a door visible behind its massive frame, but its proximity to the monster¡¯s peculiar form robbed it of the spotlight. Describing the strange creature as a reptile was difficult. Had all the other monsters not been lizards, it surely would have been assumed something else altogether. It had ten pairs of legs, a thick carapace made from only a few individual scales, and a giant eyeball planted in the rounded tip of its tail¡ªthe only part of it that could see.


    Like the exploders, the behemoth of a lizard had no face, only an oversized mouth spanning the full width of its body. Its lack of a nose came with the need for its whole frame to open every time it had to take a breath, revealing lines upon lines upon lines of large, flattened molars. Jagged canines aside, its teeth almost made it look like an herbivore. But the blood dripping from its lips did not. The frame of many a chameleon could be seen within its gaping maw, bloodied, broken, and dead.


    ¡°Finally. Something that isn¡¯t weak.¡± Claire tightened her grip, both on Boris, and on the fin in her other hand. ¡°Let me kill it. By myself.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s supposed to be level 300, and we still haven¡¯t had any chances to iron out our teamwork. This is the perfect opportunity.¡±


    The catgirl¡¯s response was met with a roll of the eyes. ¡°This isn¡¯t the army. Teamwork is secondary. We can work it out later, on the fly.¡±


    ¡°In that case, how about we kill it more than once? We¡¯re still well ahead of schedule, and it¡¯s supposed to come back to life once every few minutes.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± said Claire. ¡°But I get to go first. Alone. Then you. Then we try working together.¡±


    Lia sighed. ¡°Are you sure? Doesn¡¯t it have over fifty levels on you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. Just watch.¡±


    ¡°See?¡± Sylvia leapt off Claire¡¯s head and landed beside the cat. ¡°I told you she was reckless.¡±


    ¡°I know, but this¡­ this just goes a little beyond my expectations. It looks like it could be a unique.¡±


    The designation of unique was a ranking assigned by the system, granted automatically to every monster with an ascension whose power level was in excess of the norm. It was a notable appointment; unique monsters were thought of as dangerous entities requiring immediate attention and subjugation. Uniques left to their own devices could continue to evolve. And unlikely as it was, some could even become legendary or mythic, if allowed to get too far out of hand.


    ¡°Yeah, but she should still be okay. I¡¯m pretty sure she¡¯s gotten more experience from higher level uniques than she has normal stuff.¡±


    ¡°No wonder she said something about just a few weeks,¡± said Lia. Keeping a hand on her weapon, the cat leaned on one of the dungeon¡¯s walls and watched carefully as the lyrkress marched towards the overgrown klimgor.


    ¡°Mhm! She¡¯s feeling really good about this one too.¡±


    ¡°She is? How can you tell? Her face doesn¡¯t seem to change much,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°You just kinda get used to it, eventually.¡± Sylvia stretched her front paws and curled up to make herself more comfortable. ¡°Oh! I think it¡¯s starting now.¡± A bellowing roar echoed through the hall as the monster at its far end got to its feet and engaged their traveling companion.


    Lia watched a few exchanges before taking her hand off her weapon and crossing her arms. ¡°She¡¯s doing a lot better than I thought. Why does she keep insisting that she¡¯s a mage, if she fights like that?¡± she asked, as she watched the halfbreed club the lizard in the non-existent face.


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ I dunno. I think she just likes using magic,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Oh! It could just be a matter of pride or something, but I¡¯m not really sure. Sorry.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡± Lia¡¯s hand slowly wandered towards the fox and landed on her head after a few moment¡¯s hesitation. ¡°Her class setup seems a little strange. Is she supposed to be some sort of rogue?¡±


    Sylvia blinked. ¡°Woah, how could you tell? I thought she was a warrior for the longest time!¡± She didn¡¯t shy away from the head pat, but neither did she lean into it.


    ¡°She¡¯s too fast to be a warrior if she¡¯s also a mage. You see how she keeps bouncing off the pillars and jumping onto the ceiling?¡±


    ¡°Mhm?¡± The fox tilted her head.


    ¡°Most warriors-hybrids can¡¯t do that until over level 300. They don¡¯t have enough ability points to get the right stat spread.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Sylvia smiled awkwardly as she turned her eyes back to the battle. The cat¡¯s conclusion was certainly correct, but Claire¡¯s ability to bounce off the walls was driven by force magic.


    ¡°She really did it.¡± Lia raised a hand to her glasses as she watched the monster keel. Its head had caved in, after she bashed it a few dozen times. Boris was still intact and presumably alive, but her other weapon, the fin, was not quite as lucky. Its owner, however, was completely unconcerned. She soon replaced the broken paddle with two of the monster¡¯s teeth. The canines she ripped from its jaw were cleaned with a stream of water and given a few test swings before being tucked inside her cloak.


    ¡°Does she always just use whatever she finds?¡± asked the catgirl.


    ¡°Mhm! One of my dad¡¯s friends made some weapons for her at one point, but she pretty much lost or broke everything right away. I think these days, she¡¯s just back to using whatever she finds.¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s convenient,¡± said the lyrkress, as she returned. ¡°And it was an ordinary monster. Not a unique.¡±


    ¡°Great job out there,¡± said Lia. ¡°The way you were using your ice was really creative. I didn¡¯t think you would shoot so much of it into its lungs.¡±


    ¡°Big monsters are weak. You just have to attack their insides,¡± she said.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that applies to more than just big things,¡± giggled the catgirl.


    Claire shrugged. ¡°Your turn.¡± She gestured to the corpse, which had already started to fade. A replacement could be seen forming in front of the door; it would soon be ready to take up its predecessor¡¯s place. ¡°Impress me.¡±


    ¡°I plan to.¡± The cat drew her rapier, wreathed it in a dark flame, and prepared to put on a show.

 Chapter 158 - Farenlight’s Den VIII

    Chapter 158 - Farenlight¡¯s Den VIII


    Two pieces of metal glimmered as they crossed paths beneath the light. One was a shining blue blade, a beautifully crafted, gem-laden rapier that left a deep, clean cut in its target, and the other, a literal lizard. The metallic ikarett crushed its target¡¯s skull and splattered its brains all over the unfortunate catgirl positioned beside it.


    ¡°Not again¡­¡± Lia grumbled as she wiped the grey matter off her face and looked towards the executioner.


    ¡°Don¡¯t blame me.¡± Claire approached from behind, her steps a slow trot. ¡°You stood too close.¡±


    Unlike the berserker, who had pressed the attack at point blank, the lyrkress had magically launched her weapon from afar. An assortment of spells had gone into manipulating the metallic lump, one to transfer the momentum from her running start, another to alter its velocity, and a third to redirect it, so it wouldn¡¯t crash into the cat that stepped into its path.


    Because they had both held back, the giant klimgor was still alive. It was certainly incapacitated and likely robbed of its ability to think, but its limbs were still twitching. To rectify the issue, the lyrkress coated one of her hooves with ice and lightly kicked it in the side. The attack was weak, a light poke that need not be mentioned, but it removed the last remaining bit of the monster¡¯s health and wrought its demise.


    Log Entry 5633


    Your party has slain a level 317 Klimgor Tyrant.


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t you have hit it somewhere else? Like maybe in the gut?¡± asked the cat.


    ¡°I had an angle on its head.¡±


    Flicking the blood and gore off her blade, Lia sheathed it and spun around. The motion was smooth until her eyes fell on the lyrkress¡¯ face, most notably, the teasing grin. Her cheeks reddening slightly, she turned back to the monster and looked over the injuries covering its body. Its legs were broken, its carapace was bent out of shape, and there were dozens upon dozens of cuts lining its frame. Its overall condition appeared to suggest that they had struggled through a hard-fought battle. But a difficult foe, their prey was not.


    As per their earlier demonstrations, Claire could take it down without the magic the catgirl assumed to be her signature, and Lia had proven herself capable of splitting it in half with a single mighty blow. To only the Pausean¡¯s surprise, Claire was not satisfied with being outdone. She was so irritated that she had Shoulderhorse assassinate the third with a magical explosion.


    Naturally, her stubbornness did not facilitate their teamwork. The two had to sit down after the kill and discuss a few mutual limitations before jumping in again. It was a process repeated seventeen times in total, with each requiring more effort than the last. Neither of them quite knew why, but they found themselves warping the training exercise into something of a contest. They put less power into each of their attacks, as if to finish the beast with the most pathetic strike they could conjure.


    ¡°I think we¡¯ve got the hang of it now. Want to move on?¡± asked the cat.


    With a lackadaisical nod, Claire grabbed the two living creatures that constituted her equipment and made for the stairs. Neither did much in the way of reacting. Boris was feigning death as usual, and Sylvia was sound asleep. The fox had curled up and declared that it was time for her afternoon nap after the tyrant¡¯s seventh death; the barrier she erected around herself kept the lyrkress from wearing her as a hat, so she wound up held in her arms instead.


    ¡°On second thought, maybe we should take a bit of a break.¡± Lia cast the halfbred pair the occasional backwards glance, but otherwise kept her eyes focused on the steps in front of her. The hall was unlike the rest of the dungeon; the passages were much narrower and the illumination wasn¡¯t anywhere near as omnipresent. The cat could still move around comfortably, but Claire found the bottom half of her body slightly too wide. Her rear fins brushed against the stone, which had turned from a misty grey to a light brown, and left small scratches along the walls. It didn¡¯t help that the entire structure was made up of a series of incredibly tight turns. She had to reorient after each step, just to take the next without running into a stone boundary.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± said the moose-snake. ¡°How long did we spend fighting?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡± Lia retrieved a small pocket watch from the inside of her cloak, a military model issued to every notable Paunsean soldier. The design itself wasn¡¯t too far out of the ordinary. It had a circular shape, a small knob on top, and a chain to keep it secured to her clothing, but unlike most foreign models, it wasn¡¯t made of metal. Instead, it was constructed from the wood of an ironbark tree, known for being just as durable, slightly more flammable, and twice as shiny. ¡°About three hours.¡± She closed the watch and put it back in her pocket. ¡°It¡¯s getting pretty late into the evening, and I just realised we skipped lunch.¡±


    ¡°We did,¡± said Claire, nonchalantly.


    ¡°Then it might not be a bad time for us to stop for a quick bite.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± The lyrkress popped open her authority skill and scrolled through some of the options. She was tempted to feed the cat a plate of borrok brain sashimi, just to see how she would react, but stopped short of bringing the prank to fruition. The thought of anyone consuming a borrok was enough to make her feel the urge to vomit.


    She continued contemplating the various options as they descended the stairs, but found herself incapable of coming to any conclusions by the time they reached the bottom. ¡°What do you want to eat?¡±


    ¡°Can you make something sweet, maybe? I think it¡¯d help us keep our energy up.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Anything? As long as it¡¯s sweet?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not. I¡¯d be glad to try anything.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± The smile that accompanied the foolish statement was so bright that it inspired Claire to pull her hood over her eyes. A twinge of annoyance had come alongside the reply, which had completely failed to narrow down her choices, but the catgirl¡¯s phrasing left little room to follow the question with another.


    Resorting to the previous morning¡¯s tactic, she waved her finger up and down with her eyes closed and her lips pursed into a frown. The expression only deepened when she opened them again and found herself staring down the eldritch eclairs. She was almost tempted to try again and select something else, but she wound up following through. Entirely on a whim.


    It drained a full twenty thousand mana. The exuberant cost was more than half of her total, but she was unconcerned. The room at the bottom of the staircase was empty and devoid of monsters, just like the start of every other floor. There was, of course, always the possibility that the catgirl would turn on her, but she was ready. She kept Sylvia¡¯s impenetrable but seemingly defenseless bubble right beside her as she watched the plate slowly manifest in her palm.


    ¡°Is that how you cook?¡± The cat leaned in and focused her eyes on the magical blob. She tried to sniff it, but the only scent she picked up was that of the blood that still stained the halfbreed¡¯s hand. ¡°It doesn¡¯t smell like anything. Can I try touching it?¡±


    Claire took a moment to eye the cat suspiciously, but eventually consented with a nod. ¡°First. Use this.¡± She fired a small stream of stale water from one of her fingers and rinsed both their hands, just in case the dish was completed in the midst of the cat¡¯s investigation. The Llystletein mage had no idea how long the sweet treats would take; different items took different amounts of time, and she had no history with the eclairs.


    ¡°It doesn''t even feel like there¡¯s anything there.¡± Lia gasped in wonder as she moved her hand in and out of the magical mass. ¡°I still can¡¯t believe you¡¯re making food from nothing. How much mana does this cost?¡±


    ¡°Twenty thousand.¡±


    Lia blinked a few times as she looked between the still formless dish and something invisible in the air. ¡°Twenty? Like a two with two zeros, and then two more zeros behind it?¡±


    ¡°Twenty.¡±


    ¡°It must be nice to be a mage. I don¡¯t even have ten thousand MP, let alone twenty to spare.¡±


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°You¡¯re a dark knight. You don¡¯t need mana.¡±


    ¡°My blademaster skills still need it. One of them costs so much that I can only cast it twice in a row, three times if I don¡¯t have to enrage.¡±


    ¡°Mages are like that too. Some spells can eat half your mana. Or more.¡±


    ¡°But those are at least incredibly powerful, right?¡± asked the cat.


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    Claire turned her eyes back to the magical blob whose shape had finally stabilized. A sweet, tempting aroma drifted from atop the fine, glass plate. There were only five of them in all, each much smaller than the average pastry. Two could easily fit side by side in her palm.


    So alluring was the scent that Sylvia¡¯s nose began to twitch. She didn¡¯t open her eyes until she dispelled the bubble and gave her body a quick shake. ¡°Is it food time already?¡± Her legs were still unsteady; she fell back into her mount¡¯s one-armed embrace after failing to stifle a yawn.


    ¡°Good morning, Sylvia,¡± said the cat. ¡°We were just thinking of having a bit of a snack.¡±


    ¡°Wait, morning?¡± The fox blinked awake and shot to her feet. ¡°It¡¯s morning already!?¡±


    ¡°No. Idiot.¡± The less-than-accurate assessment earned her a flick to the forehead, an assault enacted with the tip of a soft, feathery tail. ¡°You were only asleep for a few hours.¡±


    ¡°Oh, whew¡­ You had me worried for a second there. I thought I missed a couple floors or something.¡±


    ¡°The only thing you missed was a stairwell,¡± said Lia. ¡°We haven¡¯t moved much since you fell asleep.¡±


    ¡°Oh, okay!¡± She stretched out her spine and poked her head over Claire¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You mean the one right behind us?¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± confirmed the cat.


    ¡°You can look at it later. After trying these.¡± The lyrkress passed one eclair to the fox and presented the plate to the Paunsean.


    ¡°These look delicious. Thank you, Claire.¡±


    ¡°They smell really good too!¡±


    Despite knowing that neither girl¡¯s tastebuds were functional, the fake chef kept a careful eye on both parties. They wouldn¡¯t be able to tell her if the dish was delicious, but they were likely to sound the alarm if it turned out to be revolting.


    ¡°Wow, this is nice! It¡¯s nice and sweet, but also kinda fishy!¡± said Sylvia, after swallowing the whole thing in one bite. ¡°What¡¯s it made out of?¡±


    ¡°The lord of the slough.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± The fox blinked and tilted her head as she pulled Claire¡¯s arm, and the dish, back towards her. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Really.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s weird. I don¡¯t think I remember making it so tasty¡­¡± She mumbled aloud as she grabbed another bite. ¡°It was just supposed to be a big nightmare frog.¡±


    Shrugging, the moose looked towards the other taste-tester, who was slowly chewing on the pastry with her eyes closed and her tail flicking back and forth. A light blush spread across her face when she opened them again and realised that both halfbreeds were staring. ¡°It¡¯s very delicious,¡± she said, as she hid her face behind the half of the snack that remained. ¡°I love how sweet and creamy it is.¡±


    Though Claire knew better than to take their praise at face value, she couldn¡¯t help but think that there was an off chance that the dish was really as delicious as they claimed. It had cost a whole 20,000MP, more than enough to cast vector storm at full power, and yet, it had only produced a paltry five thumb-sized pastries, presented like a series of fancy hors d¡¯oeuvres. It was an exchange that couldn¡¯t have possibly made sense, had the confections been lackluster. Or so she hoped.


    Flicking her tongue only served to build up her expectations. There was a sweet, almost chocolatey taste in the air. The powerful fragrance was backed by a series of subtle add-ons, extra flavours that ranged from fruity to nutty. But putting the dish in her mouth provided all the usual disappointment. Despite what its scent profile seemed to say, the sweet was nothing but just that. Sweet. It consisted of nothing but an unrestrained overdose of sugar, powerful enough to mask all the other wonderful flavours that should have been present.


    ¡°I should have stuck to stale bread.¡±


    Mumbling the complaint under her breath, she set down the plate and summoned a monopus steak.


    ___


    As the only one of the three to pay etiquette any mind, Claire was inevitably the last to finish her meal. She cleaned off her face with a napkin-shaped piece of klimgor hide and looked at the less-than-empty plate seated atop the bubble floating in front of her. Two of the sword-sized skewer¡¯s features were still attached and uneaten.


    Neither of her travelling companions looked to be in the mood for any more food. Sylvia had already started dozing off atop her back, and Lia was sorting through her diary with a feathery quill in hand. Shoulderhorse would have gladly consumed the leftovers, but she saw no reason to please the pony, especially not with the others around.


    That left her with only one option, the lizard still frozen on her back. She set the ikarett variant down on the ground and placed its meal directly in front of its mouth. It didn¡¯t quite seem to understand that she was feeding it, even when she prodded it in the back with a klimgor fang, so she rolled her eyes and raised her voice.


    ¡°Eat.¡±


    It slowly turned around and eyed her for a solid few moments before hesitantly opening its mouth. It took a small nibble at first, continuing only after she gave it another explicit nod. It sped up after a few more tiny bites, and soon scarfed the rest of the dish down with all the speed and vigour of a hungry fox.


    Seemingly satisfied, it turned back around and slowly stepped forwards. It stared at Claire briefly before lightly bumping its head against her leg.


    Log Entry 5634


    You have tamed a level 117 Ikarett Steelclaw.


    Log Entry 5635


    You have unlocked the Llystletein Beastmaster class.


    Log Entry 5636


    You have unlocked the Llystletein Ranger class.


    A frown crept up on the lyrkress¡¯ lips as she listened through the unexpected entries. Neither appeared to be worth her consideration. Tamers and their variants were frowned upon in Cadria, valued far beneath the personal power that most would typically employ. The only accepted variants were beastriders, as not all members of the calvary had four hooves of their own. Cottontails would occasionally learn to ride horses, griffins, and other strange creatures, if they wished to serve in the same capacity as their centaurian peers, but even then, they were expected to invest more heavily in their knight classes than their mounted ones.


    Adding to the half-Sthenian¡¯s displeasure was the lack of benefit. Taming the creature had done nothing for either of them. Boris hadn¡¯t suddenly evolved or become a more effective weapon, and they didn¡¯t suddenly develop a psychic link, like the one she shared with her pony and her snake. It felt like the log did little but attest that the lizard had acknowledged her as its master, a fact she had already understood from its post-feeding behaviour.


    Claire was not in the mood to humour the beast. She ignored the pleased, almost inspired look it gave her, picked up her plate, and silently presented it to the group¡¯s maid. Lia didn¡¯t immediately react, so she pressed the ceramic dish into the side of her face.


    The cat responded with a furrow of the brow. She backed away from the dish, looked up from her book, and gave the lyrkress a confused blink. ¡°What is it, Claire?¡±


    ¡°Maid duties. Do them.¡±


    ¡°Maid duties? What are you talking about?¡±


    The blueblood paused, briefly, before applying the plate with more force. ¡°We agreed. You have to do all the housework.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ right. Just give me a second.¡± She quickly scribbled down another note or two, shut the book, and stood up. ¡°Do we have any buckets? Or something else we can use?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I have something!¡± said Sylvia. She cupped her paws together and blew half a bubble. Somehow or another, the bowl-shaped delusion retained its shape, even as it was touched and fiddled with. It was already filled about a quarter of the way with warm, soapy water.


    ¡°Thank you, Sylvia,¡± said the catgirl. She went around the room with the bubble in tow and threw in all the plates. The one in Claire¡¯s hand was the last she took. Lia didn¡¯t throw it in the makeshift sink nearly as quickly as all the others. She held onto it until everyone else looked away and slowly brought it closer to her face with a blush creeping up onto her cheeks. The fork was what held most of her attention. There was nothing she could do to stop her nose from twitching in tandem with the three-pronged object¡¯s approach.


    But it was smacked out of her hands before she could bring it in reach of her lips. The tail¡¯s owner said no words. Her judging stare was all that was required to convey the unspoken sentiment, and the cat appeared to know it well. Hanging her head in shame, she muttered something or another about a lack of an escape, followed by a contemplation of the reality that she was, in fact, a pervert.


    Log Entry 5637


    Charm Catgirl has reached level 19.


    And for reasons she didn¡¯t understand, she found herself a lot less bothered by the label than usual. Her face flushed an even deeper shade as she looked at Claire with her eyes moistened and upturned.


    She wasn¡¯t the only one whose mind was affected by the unplanned activation. The lyrkress clenched her teeth as she tried to bear with the foreign urges running rampant through her brain. She didn¡¯t know why they¡¯d been suddenly set off, after calming for so long. She had been confident in her ability to deal with them, to hold them at bay and resist. But she couldn¡¯t.


    Mind hazy, she fell to her knees and clutched her ears, hard enough for them to bleed. Not hard enough to silence the purrs and meows.


    ¡°Claire? What¡¯s wrong? Are you okay?¡±


    Lia snapped out of her trance as she realised that the lyrkress was in distress, but something sent her flying away when she tried to approach. She didn¡¯t know what had hit her. All she could tell was that it was Claire¡¯s doing. The collapsed chimera had one palm extended and held in her direction, as if she was firing some sort of beam.


    ¡°Stay away.¡± The plea was spoken under her breath, so quietly that it was barely audible. ¡°Leave me alone.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Claire. It¡¯s okay, I¡¯m here.¡± Without moving from her place on the lyrkress¡¯ back, Sylvia turned into an elf and gently wrapped her arms around her. ¡°She gets like this sometimes.¡± Her smile changed from gentle to awkward as she raised her head and looked towards the cat. ¡°She¡¯ll get better soon. She just needs a moment.¡±


    ¡°R-right¡­¡± Still a little confused and shaken, Lia tore her eyes off the moose and returned to her dishwashing duties. All while contemplating the nature of the magic employed.

 Chapter 159 - Farenlight’s Den IX

    Chapter 159 - Farenlight¡¯s Den IX


    Claire breathed slowly. The deep wheezes escaped her throat one at a time as she fought to keep her sanity. The attack was awful, perhaps even worse than the ones that came before it; the thoughts that wrought her mind were more explicit, and the time she had spent with its target only served to amplify its effect. The meows she heard were no longer generic, but came hand in hand with a voice she knew. They beckoned her to raise her head, to look into the moistened eyes of the offering before her. With words she had no trouble imagining.


    She wanted to vomit. Or perhaps even to stab herself in the throat and be done with it, to wash away the shame with blood. But the familiar, comforting warmth wrapped around her upper body helped to reign in the unease. Slowly but surely, she was able to fight it back, to suppress her overworked heart and quell her frazzled nerves.


    When she opened her eyes again, with her breathing calmed, she found that she was quarantined within a bubble. And that her fingers were bloody from scratching against it. Some of her nails were torn out of their places, but they were soon restored by the soothing melody echoing through her ears.


    Retracing her spike, she crossed her hands over her chest and hugged her shoulders. They were still trembling. But the fingers that intertwined with hers helped to stop the shaking. To quell the murky fear bottled up inside of her. And silence the provocative, coquettish whispers that danced around her ears.


    Looking in front of her again, she realised that the bubble was opaque. Sylvia was the only one to know the full extent of her shame. The others were kept out of it. As much as possible.


    Turning into a humanoid, she spun around and buried her head in the fox¡¯s chest. ¡°I thought I could handle it,¡± she said, quietly.


    A hand ran its way through her hair, along with a gentle stream. Warm and soapy, the water washed away the blood that caked her hair and stained her shoulders.


    ¡°Are you going to do this every time?¡± she asked, her voice still husky.


    ¡°Mhm.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Of course, silly,¡± said Sylvia.


    Claire tightened her grip on the half-fairy¡¯s waist. And took another slow, unsteady breath.


    ¡°Don¡¯t make promises you can¡¯t keep,¡± she muttered. ¡°Stupid dog.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a fox,¡± chided Sylvia, with a gentle smile, and an even gentler head pat.


    ¡°I know.¡± Claire tried to fight back a sniffle, ¡°But you¡¯re my dog,¡± and lost.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense!¡± complained the pupper. ¡°And dogs don¡¯t hug you when you have panic attacks!¡±


    Claire tightened her grip on the fox and squeezed the air out of her lungs. ¡°You don¡¯t know that. You¡¯ve never had a dog.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never had one either!¡±


    ¡°I wanted one. But my father¡­¡± She cut herself off with a shake of the head. ¡°We¡¯re getting too far off topic.¡± The fox was grabbed by the shoulders and pushed away. ¡°Thank you, Sylvia. For always doing this.¡±


    ¡°No problem!¡± chirped the fox. ¡°That¡¯s what friends are for.¡±


    Turning her head away, the lyrkress silently nodded, pulled her hood over her face, and moved towards the bubble¡¯s far edge. It gave as soon as she touched it, allowing her to slip out with no resistance, only the sensation of moving through a sort of membrane.


    Lia was seated just outside the magical sphere, a conflicted look on her face. She did away with it as soon as she noticed the halfbreed, turning the confused frown into an awkward smile. ¡°Are you feeling better now?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± The bubble popped as the lyrkress shook her head, with a beaming Sylvia appearing in its place.


    ¡°Weren¡¯t you ju¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± repeated the force mage.


    ¡°She means she¡¯s sorry!¡± said the elf.


    ¡°No I don¡¯t.¡± Claire spun around and moved to flick the fox girl¡¯s forehead, but the unforeseen attack was easily evaded with a twirl.


    Sylvia bent forward and stuck out her tongue with her hands behind her back. ¡°Yes you do, you just don¡¯t want to admit it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± said Lia, with a calm smile of her own. ¡°I understand. We all have our pasts, and sometimes, just sometimes, they end up coming back to haunt us.¡± She placed a hand on her rapier¡¯s handle and gave it a quick squeeze.


    ¡°Oh, oh! Does this mean it¡¯s story time?¡± Ears twitching and tail wagging, the starry-eyed fox conjured a trio of bubble-shaped seats, each large enough to double as a bed. She fell right back on hers, arms spread wide and a large grin plastered all over her face.


    The beds weren¡¯t her only creations. She also made a small fire and plopped it right in the middle of the makeshift campsite. Its flames crackled, as if they were burning away a piece of wood, but there was no heat, only a comforting ambience illuminated by oranges and reds.


    ¡°I guess so.¡± With a wistful smile, the brunette moved her hand from her blade to her diary. She started with a moment of reminiscence, her eyes glassing as she looked through the dungeon¡¯s walls, off into the distant past.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to know,¡± said one halfbreed.


    ¡°Claire, what the heck!?¡± complained the other.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to know," repeated the first, with a brief hiss.


    She saw no purpose in burdening herself with a third party¡¯s secrets. The more she was told, the more she had to hide, and the more effort she would have to put into their everyday conversation. Obscuring her own past was already difficult enough; it was too easy to accidentally blurt out the wrong thing whilst speaking with the fox. But despite her reservations, she found herself tempted to comply. She could tell, by staring into the catgirl¡¯s eyes, that encumbering her was not her intention.


    ¡°I think you might feel better if you listen. People always say it helps to hear about everyone else¡¯s pain.¡± It wasn¡¯t as if she was venting or seeking pity either. She meant what she said. Unlike the lyrkress or the fox, she had never been the type to lie.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°...Fine.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait! What the heck!¡± Transforming, Sylvia leapt on Claire¡¯s shoulder and lightly rapped her fists aginst the side of her head. ¡°How come you never listen when I want you to listen!?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡± The mischievous vixen was lifted by the scruff and pulled into her arms. ¡°And she¡¯s a respectable warrior. Unlike you. Her voice is meant to be heard.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t even make any sense! I¡¯m stronger than both of you combined!¡±


    ¡°Strength alone does not make you respectable.¡±


    ¡°Wha!? I¡¯m totally respectable!¡±


    ¡°No. You¡¯re adorable.¡± Claire pinched one of her cheeks. ¡°There¡¯s a difference.¡±


    ¡°I know I¡¯m adorable, but that doe¡ª¡±


    She was cut off by another pinch. The fox flailed her arms, but didn¡¯t really struggle. She allowed herself to be silenced by a series of light scratches.


    ¡°We can have this talk later. Let¡¯s listen for now. You were looking forward to it.¡±


    ¡°Okay, fine,¡± she said, with a huff.


    Lia, who had been watching the whole exchange, brought a hand to her lips and stifled a giggle. ¡°I knew you were Cadrian, Claire.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡±


    The cat narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brow, but gave up soon after; reading the practiced poker face was beyond her means. ¡°If you insist.¡± She adjusted her glasses, and with a flourish, flipped her notebook open. ¡°Where do I begin?¡± Wondering aloud, she tapped her feathered pen against her bottom lip before turning the journal back to its very first page. ¡°I guess I should start by telling you a little bit about my family.¡±


    The Vernelle household was one that started as lower-middle class. They had only one undersized litter, but even with both the parents working their hardest, they would oftentimes struggle to make ends meet. It was a problem that ultimately stemmed from a series of misguided career choices. The family¡¯s patriarch was a small-time adventurer turned bard. He suffered a wound from a cursed arrow early on in his career, but rather than taking from his family¡¯s already deprived funds, he turned instead to singing, to retell his battles for coin. His wife¡¯s fortunes were as fictitious as his tall tales. Her barber shop, located on the edge of town, was almost always devoid of customers. It was a functional idea in theory, but there were too many competitors for the aspiring barber to earn her keep. Because their claws were sharp and precise, capable of making all the precise cuts required for a complicated style, similar storefronts could be seen scattered all over the town. But while the parents'' talents were lacking, the children were particularly remarkable.


    ¡°Wait.¡± Claire interrupted the story by raising her fox. ¡°Did you just call yourself remarkable?¡±


    Natalya coughed and turned away, her cheeks flushed. ¡°I was just repeating what other people used to say about us.¡± Still red as a tomato, she returned to the story with a cough. ¡°A-anyway, where was I?¡±


    Alina, the older daughter, was particularly renowned. From a young age, she distinguished herself from her peers with her outstanding strength and speed. She had always been interested in swordplay, and when the town guard refused to teach her, she learned by watching their practice. By the age of ten, she had already challenged and bested more than half their number. Her eye-catching antics were discussed by bards, adventurers and merchants, and before long, word of her spread to Sir Belyaev, a retired master duelist in search of a pupil to inherit his blade. But upon making the journey to Paunse, and then to the small town of Krai, he found not one girl, but two, both eager to learn the way of the warrior.


    The old berserker had only wanted to take the genius under his wing, but knowing the pain of exclusion, Alina refused to learn unless her sister was taught. So both were made privy to his techniques. The education they received was the same; the old man kept his word and treated the twins equally. And it turned out, even from day one, that they both had a knack for swordplay. Though not as talented as the firstborn, Natalya still learned at an accelerated pace, mastering her first class only two months after its acquisition. It was welcome news, and celebrated by the whole family, but it lacked the excitement provided during the elder twin¡¯s ceremony, which had taken place a whole six weeks prior. It was not the family¡¯s fault. They had every intention of cheering Natalya on, but it was the second time they had received the news, and they didn¡¯t have the money to host another large event.


    The older girl never bragged, but Natalya was not oblivious to the discrepancy. She nearly cried herself to sleep that night, stopping only because her sister had intervened. Alina had descended from their shared bunk, pulled her twin onto the roof, and spoke many a word of encouragement. She claimed that the blade was not all there was to learn, that while the older sister was a better swordswoman, the younger one was a better bard. Unlike her tone-deaf sibling, Natalya had inherited her father¡¯s singing voice, and all the wondrous potential therein.


    ¡°Your sister lied,¡± said Claire. ¡°Your singing voice is awful. My ears bleed. Every time you force me to listen.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on, don¡¯t be so mean,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I know it¡¯s not great, but it¡¯s at least better than average!¡±


    ¡°Your average is skewed. You already told me that the other foxes can¡¯t sing.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s normal! Most people aren¡¯t supposed to be able to sing properly!¡±


    ¡°Try telling that to a harpie.¡±


    ¡°Could the two of you please let me finish?¡± said Lia, with a strained smile. ¡°And I would just like to point out that my singing voice is one of the best in Paunse.¡±


    ¡°If you say so.¡± Claire narrowed her eyes and silently concluded that catgirls were simply incapable of singing, precisely because they were derived from Llystletein foxes.


    ¡°Good. I¡¯m going to get mad if you interrupt again, okay?¡± Natalya cleared her throat and continued her story.


    Their talk had inspired her to follow the path she wanted, regardless of whether it was the most suitable. Because Alina was a beacon of light, and it was only right for her to be the shadow she cast.


    She had always assumed that her sister would forever remain her better. And for the most part, it was true. Sir Belyaev had allowed the older twin to set out on a journey a whole two years before her younger sister. And in just that time, she created an insurmountable gap, nearly acquiring her thousandth level in a single sprint.


    Natalya chased after her, continuing at her own pace. She slowly gained her levels, trained her classes, and defeated all sorts of different monsters, just so she could one day become worthy of calling herself her sister¡¯s shadow.


    But that day never came.


    Because the pair had enlisted, when Paunse made a call to arms. And Alina met her match.


    In just one quick exchange, the genius lost her life. To an even more insurmountable monster.


    ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m here now,¡± said Lia. ¡°When Alina died, I took her sword and ran as fast and as far as I could.¡± She tried her best to smile. ¡°I know that, if she lost, I¡¯ll never be a match for him, no matter how hard I train. But one day, I¡¯m going to try. I¡¯m going to try to honour my sister¡¯s life. By killing Virilius Augustus.¡±


    ¡°Augustus? Where have I heard that before? It sounds kinda familiar,¡± Sylvia tapped a paw against her chin. ¡°Wait...¡± Slowly, she directed her gaze upwards, towards another one of the man¡¯s many victims.


    Claire¡¯s eyes were obscured. She was holding her hood over them with her tail and hiding her expression, but the bottom half of her face gave away all that was left unsaid. Her teeth were clenched, hard enough for blood to seep from her gums. But she said nothing.


    ¡°It¡¯s only been a few weeks. And I still can¡¯t get the scene out of my head,¡± continued the cat. ¡°Every time I close my eyes, I see her head fly. And it scares me, because sometimes I think it might be mine.¡±


    ¡°The butterfly blooms beneath the moon,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°The butter-what?¡± asked the cat.


    ¡°Nothing.¡± Claire pulled back her hood and leaned back into her bubble. ¡°I just find it funny. That coincidences like this happen.¡± She took a deep breath and squeezed the fox for comfort. "You aren¡¯t the only one whose life he threw off course.¡± She flashed a small smile. A genuine one. ¡°I¡¯m running away from him too.¡±


    ¡°You are? Then¡­¡±


    Lia was cut off by a shake of the head. ¡°I¡¯m not sharing anymore. Not now, at least.¡± She leapt to her feet and made for one of the room¡¯s entrances. ¡°And you were right. Listening did help.¡±


    Claire grabbed Boris, who had fallen asleep atop what was originally Sylvia¡¯s magical bubble, and mounted him on her back. After double checking that he was secure, she gave her neck a crack and made for the room¡¯s exit.


    The cat¡¯s story had only served as a reminder. That she needed power, to overwhelm the unfeeling monster that was her father. If she wanted to live, then she couldn¡¯t stop, no matter whose meows she heard. Not until she was strong enough to face him herself.

 Chapter 160 - Headhydra

    Chapter 160 - Headhydra


    Pulling his sword out of a dead turpedo¡¯s throat. Zelos Redleaf turned his eyes on the nearest tree. The leafy palm immediately abided by his will; it sprouted a new branch from the base of its trunk, grabbed the reptile by its rear hooves, and lifted it into the air. The lifeblood that flowed from the creature¡¯s neck fed into the plant¡¯s roots, providing it with all the energy and nutrients required to compensate for its sudden, unexpected growth.


    The elf walked along the beach whilst his organic servant handled the bloodletting, his eyes focused on one of many far-off islands. The particular sandy shore he was watching sat roughly two kilometers away, on the opposite side of Sky Lagoon. It was a brand new construct, a piece of land installed only after Alfred¡¯s most recent announcement.


    In a completely unexpected turn of events, the demigod had suddenly declared that his operations would temporarily be put on hold. The artificial dungeon that was the lost library would remain fully functional, with all its various pieces persisting exactly as they were. But his victims were captives no longer. He had even offered to facilitate their departure, hence the portal¡¯s addition. It had been placed immediately after the battles were concluded, but only activated the morning of Zelos¡¯ return.


    It had been a week since the elf last visited the citadel; he had abandoned it after his less-than-inconspicuous betrayal and never returned. He had even shied away from Sky Lagoon, until his wife demanded a meal crafted from the flesh of an ascended turpedo. The high elf knew that she had made the request for his sake. She had not exactly been fond of the way he had spent the past few days moping around at home and shutting himself behind locked doors.


    Unable to ignore the stunningly beautiful woman¡¯s pleas, the elf acquiesced and returned to the domain made of equal parts water and sky. Brand new island aside, it looked no different from how it was just a few weeks prior. The buildings had been restored, the stampede of monsters was gone, and all the local ecosystems were already back to normal. Everything was back to normal. Except his damaged relations.


    Beckard was the only one of his friends that still lived. The others had all been killed. By his very own daughter, and her bloodthirsty friend.


    Pressing a hand to his face, the elf leaned back against another palm and looked at the new island again. Despite his distaste for the human celestial, he found himself impressed by the man¡¯s handiwork. The magical formation was incredibly stable. It had seen an obscene amount of use in the four-odd hours since its activation; a dozen groups had stopped by in the last twenty minutes alone, with about half of each departing, some for their homes, and others for lands unknown.


    The lost library¡¯s torches were not the only ones that found themselves on the other side of the portal. Because no magic was required for the device¡¯s activation, some of the local animals and monsters had also ventured through, more often by accident than not. One by one, the curious creatures were teleported, sent to whatever lands the last sentients had happened to choose.


    One such group, a collection of turpedos, was on the cusp of repeating the mistake. They ventured towards it curiously and prodded it with their flippers, but an adventurer shooed them off before they found themselves spirited away.


    The individual in question was Eric. He was accompanied by Neil, the only other Sthenian soldier to have survived the Llystletein experience. Of the thirty-seven transported to the library, roughly two dozen years prior, only twelve had lived the first week, and nine the next. They were down to just four by the time they arrived at the citadel. And Gurd was the sole individual to retain his will to fight. The others were all broken, unwilling to train themselves from scratch and regain their lost power with their own hands.


    Gurd had been a promising fellow, but his ambition had also been his downfall. From what his companions had gathered, he likely fell, after dueling the equitaur. His bones were found in a hellhog¡¯s lair, a sure-fire sign that he had been slain before he could fully recover from his bout. Meghan, their third companion, had met a similar demise. Zelos had watched her flame flicker out, when he stared into the celestial¡¯s fireplace and observed the encroaching hordes.


    With the werebears gone, the turtles approached the portal again, but a different group chased them away before their curiosity came to consequence. The second party consisted of two previously disjoint cliques, one centered around Lova, and the other by Marleena. It was a strange cast. Centaurs and Kryddarians often found it difficult to get along; their racial characteristics were effectively at odds, and each group found the details of the other¡¯s limb count grotesque. It was not just their physical features, but also their cultures that drew them apart. The half-equines were barbaric and often practiced a belligerent warrior culture. Their societies valued strength and thought it only right for the strong to reign over the weak. Meanwhile, the moths preferred unity; they sought to build civilizations where all were treated equally, regardless of power, race, or position. But the stereotypical traits were irrelevant. Because they were demonstrated in none of the individuals present.


    Marleena was strict. Many thought her rigid adherence to the rules as more of a nuisance than a strength, but she never abandoned her creed. The warrior-tribe¡¯s descendant rarely resorted to violence and avoided conflict at every turn. Likewise, Carter mostly kept to himself. He was quieter than most and often spent his days walking along the beach and gazing off into the distance, even though he claimed that he was guilty of murder.


    Despite his reluctance to fight, the man had regained almost half the levels he lost, with all his non-racial classes hovering at around level 150¡ªa recent development for sure. Zelos was well aware that the supposed convict had only been around level 70, prior to Alfred¡¯s attack. Marleena and Lova¡¯s group trailed slightly behind, but they were all in roughly the same range. The elf was unable to determine if any of them had acquired their class¡¯ Llystletein variants, but he believed it likely. There were too many lords for them to have missed the requirements.


    Their relative incompetence aside, Lova¡¯s group never left much of an impression. He knew that they were focused more on their craftsmanship, but the elf and his friends had done the same without sacrificing their efficacy in combat. They had gotten around the losses by unifying the abilities they used for art and battle; Fred had harnessed the flame of his forge by producing it within his body, Archie covered for his weaknesses with machines, and Beck called upon his scriptures for power. Zelos was no exception. He weaponised both his musical compositions and his runic writings. With the two combined, he was able to draw out more power than most adventurers in his range, and he had been confident that Fred¡¯s students should have been able to do the same, but none of them had ever achieved the mastery required, neither during the battle, nor the time preceding it.


    Thoughts of his friends still spinning around in his head, Zelos frowned and lowered his eyes. Two of them were dead. The only one left had scorned him after hearing his reasons, labeling him a backstabber, a blasphemer, and a sellout. And he was right. As much as the elf wanted to deny the claims, he knew that the priest had spoken no slander. At the end of the day, he had turned traitor. He had thrown away his mission even after the goddess provided him the opportunity to meet and impress the love of his life. He knew that Flux had given him everything he had ever wanted. And that he had failed to fulfil his duty.


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    But he did not regret his choice.


    Like every other Llystletein fox, Dixie was born at level 250. Having two ascensions naturally baked into the core of her being, her lifespan was longer than most; it was rare for a fox not to live at least a full thousand years. But that was it. She would eventually age and fade with time. Because for all the picture perfect parts of her absolutely adorable personality, the fairy was not without her flaws. Her greatest weakness was a lack of motivation. The only levels she gained were passively acquired from the things she did in her everyday life. She never went out of her way to kill, and she was far from growing fast enough to extend her ticking timer.


    Zelos himself was met with a similar set of limitations. Elves were short-lived. Most of the unascended greenwoods would turn into spirits or plants by age sixty. As a level 800 high elf variant, the rune mage had a little longer than most of the others that shared his blood, but even then, he was unlikely to last any more than five hundred years.


    Eventually, they would both breathe their last.


    A thought that only sent shivers coursing through his spine.


    As a seasoned warrior, a true master of the blade, he had long come to terms with the possibility that he would one day fall in battle. But only in battle was he willing to accept his end. He was never truly helpless with an opponent standing before him. His songs could quite literally warp reality and provide him the opportunity to seize victory with his own two hands. Time, however, was not something he could battle against. Its passing, its flow, could never truly be stopped or reversed, only altered. A tenet at the core of his goddess¡¯ teachings.


    That was why he had agreed to Alfred¡¯s proposal. That was why he had tried to render the other paladins incapable of combat, why he had given up on his mission, even though he had already been paid in advance.


    It was all worth the tiny pocket of time he would buy. For the many years they would be able to spend in Llystletein. Together.


    Balling his hands into fists, he raised his head and looked back towards the portal. The previous group had already departed, replaced by a single, tiny, hooded figure.


    Seeing Beckard with his face obscured reminded him of when they first met. They were hostile back then as well, but the terms they were on now were far worse. There was no longer any potential for recovery. No way to amend their relationship. He was responsible for the deaths of their two closest friends. And the failure of their joint divine quest.


    Still, he walked across the water and approached the old priest, the orphan once sold as a pet, and the man that had fought a leviathan by his side.


    Beckard was leaving. It was his last chance to make amends.


    And he had every intention of allowing the priest to at least air his grievances.


    It was the least he could do. As the only friend that the old cat-sith still had.


    ___


    With the miniboss behind them, Claire¡¯s group blazed through the dungeon at an alarming pace. They made it to the twenty-first floor by the end of the first day, and the twenty-eighth by the end of the second. The levels themselves remained roughly the same size, but the amount of time required to complete them grew with every flight of stairs. Every set of halls from the twentieth onward had a notable spike in both the number of enemies and their relative power. Even the klimgor tyrant that guarded the fifteenth floor was turned from a rare guardian to a common lackey. Floor 26 had them in packs, floor 27 introduced their variants, and floor 28 had each group led by a level 350 unique.


    And yet, Claire found her levels refusing to budge. She had gotten a few from the first couple of kills, but the klimgors soon became as worthless as Llystletein¡¯s lords, with each giving only a tiny bit of experience. The lyrkress had her hopes up for floor 29, but reaching it left her deflated and annoyed.


    Because it was empty¡ªcompletely devoid of life.


    ¡°Where are the monsters?¡± she asked, in a whisper. The tone was a product of the environment. It was dark and quiet; there were still torches lining the walls, but none were lit aflame. She didn¡¯t want to speak aloud and break the status quo, even though her ears could tell that there was nothing creeping around in the dark.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think there are any.¡± Lia stepped forward and peered down the hall. Her feline eyes almost seemed to glow like lanterns in the night, but she soon shook her head. ¡°None nearby, at least.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t find anything either,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°This whole floor just feels kinda weird and dead.¡±


    Claire frowned, but pressed on, wandering through the darkness with her ears peeled. She could feel some sort of gaze on her, other than the catgirls¡¯, but she couldn¡¯t tell where it was coming from. The odd sensation persisted until they reached the next set of stairs, but they remained completely unmolested. It never struck, no matter how long it watched them.


    ¡°Lia. Wait.¡± Claire grabbed the catgirl¡¯s shoulder, stopping her just before she descended the steps. ¡°I hear something.¡± The sounds she heard weren''t the ones she expected. There were no bestial roars, clattering blades, or pounding footsteps, only shouts of an entirely sentient nature. Two people were yelling at each other, a pair of men, both screaming insults of a crude and phallic nature.


    Natalya turned around and nodded, her face adorned by a charming smile. Her silence was preserved only by the lykress, who had pressed a finger against her lips.


    With the half moose moving forward and taking the lead, the group descended the steps at a snail¡¯s pace. Claire¡¯s hooves were naturally loud; they would clatter against the stone even with her sneaking skill active, so she turned herself into a lamia about a third of the way through the downwards climb. Likewise, Lia¡¯s boots drew too much attention. Sylvia had to put her in a bubble and bump her along with her nose.


    ¡°Be reasonable! You¡¯ve slain everything on both floors for gods know how many days! At least give us a turn!¡±


    ¡°We haven¡¯t slain anything, dickhead! Both floors were empty by the time we arrived!¡±


    ¡°Bullshit!¡±


    One of the two frustrated men was clearly a dwarf; his voice carried the characteristic gruffness and his heart was too close to the ground for him to be anything else. The other, she couldn¡¯t immediately identify. His anger was all that leaked through.


    Reaching the bottom of the staircase revealed that he was a lizardman. And unlike the tiny anomaly she saw in the citadel, he stood at a full six feet. He bashed his tail against the floor each time he shouted, but the dwarf wasn¡¯t intimidated, not by him, nor the giantess towering over them both. He had his arms crossed, his brow creased, and a clear frown on his clean-shaven face.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to tell you, mate. We haven¡¯t killed it yet ¡®cause it¡¯s not here. Never was.¡±


    ¡°What do you take us for, greenhorns? Everyone knows that Farenlight never leaves its arena!¡± screamed the lizard. ¡°This is an insult! An affront to our pride!¡± His veins were on the verge of popping out of his scale-plastered face.


    ¡°Well maybe, y¡¯should take your pride and shove it up your arse, mate. ¡®Cause I ain¡¯t a liar.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit!¡± Every exchange drew the lizard¡¯s fingers closer to the hilt of his blade; it would only be a matter of time before the circumstances got out of hand.


    It wasn¡¯t as if the other party was unaware of the danger. The dwarf¡¯s eyes remained focused on the weapon. And that was precisely why he failed to see the attack. The giantess¡¯s foot crashed down on him from above. Her massive, cast-iron greaves caved in the tiny man¡¯s head before he could react and quite literally blew his mind all over the floor.


    The deceased mountaindweller¡¯s party members, a pair of figures hidden beneath their cloaks, immediately drew their weapons, but their chances were looking grim. They were outnumbered and encircled. And the lizardman didn¡¯t appear particularly bothered by the giant¡¯s outburst. As could be seen by the sneer that made its way across his maw.


    ¡°We¡¯re stepping in,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Lia, with an innocent smile.


    She seemed to think that the lyrkress was working to uphold some sort of justice, to subdue the guilty and aid the innocent. But Sylvia knew better. She could only watch over the pair with a strained smile as the lyrkress sought to claim the free experience for herself.

 Chapter 161 - Headhydra II

    Chapter 161 - Headhydra II


    Unlike all the previous floors, the thirtieth was not a twisting maze, but a single massive arena. It had an elliptic shape with pillars alongside the edges and elevated seats for spectators aplenty. But despite the almost coliseum-like format, it remained dark as a starless night. There were no sunstones embedded into its ceiling. The monotone, sandstone bricks that made up its construction left it feeling dull, dreary, and lifeless.


    ¡°We¡¯re here to help!¡± Lia announced their intentions as soon as she hit the ground and dashed towards the ranger with her blade drawn.


    With the two newcomers stepping into the ring, the numbers were even¡ªeach side had exactly four fighters. The surrounded party immediately assigned one of their members to each of the threats, as if to declare that the conflict was to be settled through a series of duels, but Claire was having none of it. Indulging her foes was silly and pointless, equivalent to throwing away the advantage that came with their encirclement. The opponent that faced her only compounded her irritation. She was stuck with the frog-headed mage, the most boring of all the available choices.


    The greatest contributor to the half-lamia¡¯s disappointment was the caster¡¯s element of choice, made clear by both her salamander-skin staff and the flaming ring that had suddenly appeared in the air behind her. To the heat-resistant lyrkress, the fire mage was an easy foe, a free kill unlikely to provide anything but the tiniest sliver of experience.


    That was why she ignored her and looked towards the others. Everyone else was already locked in combat. Lia had the fish-headed ranger in check. She was swatting his arrows out of the air with her blade, and his wolf proved just as useless. It was only half her speed; the poor dog could do nothing as she outmaneuvered it without breaking a sweat.


    The pair they had volunteered to aid was just as nonchalant. One of the cloaked figures was evading the giant¡¯s attacks with an incredible display of agility, while the other was focused almost entirely on running away. It fled every time the lizardman drew too close, but fired spells¡ªblasts of water¡ªat him whenever he tried to switch targets. A fine display of the art of being a nuisance.


    Her new target identified, Claire turned into a centaur and charged straight at the two-legged reptilian. Neither the fiery orbs that struck her during her transformation nor the crimson ray that assailed her during her charge provided any sort of deterrence. The grug mage opened her mouth in an attempt to warn her lizard-shaped friend, but the lyrkress stopped the frog-mantis in her tracks by magically grabbing ahold of her tongue. Pulling it with one hand, she pushed the rest of the anuran¡¯s face in the opposite direction and ripped the fleshy tether straight out of her throat.


    The lizardman spun around when he noticed the thundering of her hooves, but by then, it was too late. One of her feet flew into his chin with all the force of a one-fox vehicle. He firmly planted his feet back on the ground and resisted being blown away, but his defense remained ineffective. Rearing up, the centaur blasted his ribs with a series of devastating, rapid kicks, backed by the weight of her body.


    He endured the pain and swung his sword at her legs, but she evaded the strike by turning back into a lamia and twisting her body out of the way. Dropping to the floor, she horsed herself again and delivered a powerful spinning kick to his gut. It landed directly on target, but again, he held his ground and stopped it with sheer strength.


    His blade flashed again, faster than she could dodge, but it failed to cut through her. The cloak turned itself into a thick layer of solid iron, almost a meter thick. He managed to get through half of it, but his sword got stuck before he could claim her hind limbs.


    Still groaning in pain and drowning in her own blood, the ignored fire mage pushed herself off the ground and cast another spell whilst the two were locked in place. It was a massive flaming orb, a bright crimson blast that none would dare consider inert. The angle was perfect; the grug had moved to the side of the hall before firing, so it wouldn¡¯t hit her companion, no matter how Claire evaded.


    If it were allowed to continue on its own course.


    After throwing two plates at the mage and breaking them on her face, Claire magically seized the fireball with one hand and rammed it into her reptilian foe. He screamed, but not only in pain. His eyes began to change, the whites turning a deep violet as thunder coursed through his body. The electrostatic energy sped through the lyrkress¡¯ defenses and fried the nerves in her feet. A painful but familiar sensation, identical to the one that had once knocked her out of the sky.


    She hated how it felt. It was a burning agony that ignored her resistance and jostled her mind, but she grit her teeth and bore with the pain. It faded as soon as she turned her shield back into cloth and wrenched her legs away.


    Wings of lightning sprouted from the lizard¡¯s back as he opened his mouth and roared. The same mistake that the grug had made before. But as ready as she was to react, it was not Claire who punished his foolishness. The water mage crafted a torrent that rained down his throat and filled his lungs.


    Eyes opening wide, he clamped his teeth shut, but to no avail. Claire kicked the sword out of his hand and shoved her fingers into his neck. Her hands pierced his flesh, but she was met with resistance when she tried to remove his jaw. She couldn¡¯t tear it off his face. His muscles were too sturdy, and his raw strength easily outstripped her own.


    Frowning, she tried to back off but he tensed his neck and locked her arm in place. One of his fists flew into her gut and sent another bolt of lightning through her body. A second, more powerful attack followed as his wings glowed with an even greater burst of energy, but his hand was run through. She lengthened her shard and used his own momentum to skewer his fist and tear his flesh.


    He shocked her again, but she ignored the electrical charge. Because his spell broke as soon as she started stealing his health and mana. A horrified, pained gasp escaped him as his muscles loosened. Just enough for her to reach deeper into his body. Her fingers wrapped around his arteries and twisted them completely out of shape. A quick wrenching motion tore them and left him choking on his own blood.


    The mage that was the warrior¡¯s lifeline tried all she could to stop the lyrkress from finishing him off. But her spells were both useless and completely neutralised. The taller hooded figure parried every spell she fired with a torrent of water. Even a massive blaze large enough to consume a person whole was destroyed by the other sorcerer¡¯s waves.


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    Not missing the obvious opening, Claire drew her lizard-shaped mace and flung it across the hall. Its steel-tipped snout smashed right into the mage¡¯s face and broke her nose beneath its weight. Boris followed the assault with one of his own. He opened his mouth as soon as he recovered from the impact and clamped his jaws down on the fallen mage¡¯s head.


    Spinning back around, Claire pulled a klimgor fang out from within her robe and moved to finish the lizard. But while the deceased mage¡¯s interference was useless, his other companions were not so easily overlooked. Throwing her sword at her foe, the giantess sprinted across the battlefield and tackled the lyrkress with the full weight of her massive frame.


    It would have been a bone-crushing charge, had Claire not transferred all the hulking warrior¡¯s momentum away. It was given to her ally, who crashed into the ground with such force that his ribs sprung from his chest.


    But even with all its velocity taken, the rush was still a devastating blow. Claire found her own ribs broken by the sheer mass accompanying the body slam; the giantess weighed at least a ton, if not twenty, and her full plate armour was nothing to scoff at.


    But the injury was irrelevant.


    Because the battle was over.


    Having subdued the ranger, Lia appeared behind the giant and cleaved straight through her hips. Neither the tempered steel nor her muscular frame could hold beneath the rapier¡¯s brilliant blue flash. The giantess screamed and collapsed. She was clearly incapacitated, just like the armless ranger collapsed on the other side of the hall.


    All her enemies had been subdued. But Claire wasn¡¯t satisfied with the result. Charging her shard with divinity again, she changed its shape, plunged it into the giant¡¯s chest, and pierced her through the heart.


    The lizard was next. With a deep breath, and all the magical force she could muster, she pushed the giant off of her and right onto the half-conscious reptilian lying by her side. He likely would have been able to handle the weight in his normal state, but his injuries were already too severe. His open ribcage was flattened and its contents were used to paint the dungeon¡¯s floor.


    ¡°Are you alright, Claire?¡±


    Taking the offered hand, the lyrkress got back to her feet with a nod. A few of her fingers had been bent out of shape and her ankles had shattered, courtesy of the giantess, but everything fixed itself as soon as she ended the colossus¡¯ life.


    Her own logs weren¡¯t the only ones going off in her mind. Boris¡¯ were as well. As she had learned, not too long after the taming incident, she was able to see everything that he gained or acquired. Though not officially recorded in the divine charter, the steelclaw was also counted as one of the party¡¯s members, and to Claire¡¯s annoyance, he received an almost disproportionate cut of all the experience gained.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    With everyone but the ranger slain, Claire looked towards the two that they had helped, both of whom had remained perfectly calm throughout.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you help him?¡± Lia was the one that posed the question. A frown on her face, she walked over to the dwarf¡¯s body and leaned down next to it. Justice had been served, but the cat was disappointed, disappointed that the pair had refrained from saving their ally.


    The shorter of the two cloaked figures had revealed that its raw strength surpassed even that of the giant¡¯s. It had dodged and parried even the heaviest blows with ease; it could have easily stepped in and prevented the mountain fairy¡¯s death.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t need to,¡± said the taller figure, with a grunt. His voice was deep and almost seemed unnatural, given his gentle, soothing articulation. ¡°It takes more than that to kill an ascended dwarf.¡± A closer look at the man provided a better explanation. His cloak was loose fitting, and though it hid most of his features, a distinctly bony chin remained visible, even in the darkened arena. Like the fleshless hand that stuck out from his sleeve, his imperfect hood revealed that he was a skeleton. And like every other skeleton, he produced the sound not with a set of vocal chords, but rather the magical core that contained his consciousness.


    Only those that followed Xekkur¡¯s teachings had qualms with the true undead races. Some were put off by their aesthetic, but the same could be said of any other species. Huskars had a distaste for humanoid heads, arachnes found those without legs horrific, and mouse beastkin were often terrified of anything that had both big floppy ears and tusks.


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t look fine to me,¡± said Lia, with a skeptical frown. ¡°His head was smashed to bits.¡±


    All things considered, skeletons were considered easy on the eyes, with many of their half-bred children known for their remarkable beauty. And while the hooded water mage was no halfbreed, he certainly was a sight worth beholding. His bones were a pearly white, and his magical aura a calming minty green. His jawline was gentle and almost feminine, but it was difficult to say for sure. Claire wasn¡¯t entirely familiar with human-like variants, only ones of a more centaurian form.


    ¡°Watch.¡± The skeleton reached into one of his pockets and produced a messy bundle of hair. Slowly, carefully, he brought it to the dwarf¡¯s body and pressed it against the bottom of his half-smashed chin.


    Like creatures with lives of their own, the dark brown strands sprang into action and attached themselves to his face. The rest of his head rapidly regenerated soon after. All the necessary structures grew back, perfectly, as if they had never once been harmed. The beard, however, suffered the consequences. It was turned from a magnificent mane to a mangy, frizzled tail, grey in some spots and bald in others. The bits and pieces soon fell out on their own, scattering as they hit the floor.


    The mountain spirit woke as soon as the process was complete. He rubbed his hairless dome and breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Thanks. What was that, my fourth beard already?¡±


    ¡°Sixth,¡± said the skeleton. ¡°You don¡¯t have many left today. You should be more careful.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t say I won¡¯t try, but you never know, with these things.¡±


    Lia was left completely flabbergasted by the development, and Claire was hardly any better off. The blueblood was at least aware of the more common dwarven properties¡ªthere were many of them among the barbarians inhabiting the base of the Langgbjerns¡ªbut it was her first time seeing one in person.


    Sylvia and Boris, who had walked over and parked themselves behind their shared lyrkrian owner, didn¡¯t seem quite as bothered or intrigued. One was yawning, while the other had lazily curled up into a ball.


    ¡°So why were they hounding you like that?¡± asked the catgirl. She flicked the blood off her blade and sheathed it, but her gaze was still sharpened.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s pretty simple, really.¡± The dwarf brought his hands to his belly and cackled. ¡°Farenlight was gone by the time we got here, but they didn¡¯t believe us and kept thinking we were being greedy.¡±


    ¡°Farenlight? You mean the dungeon¡¯s boss?¡± Lia grabbed her book and flipped through it. ¡°We were told it never left its room.¡±


    ¡°And it usually doesn¡¯t, but the whole dungeon¡¯s been acting up since a few days back, and it¡¯s only gotten weirder since.¡± The dwarf grunted as he picked his bloody leather helmet up off the floor and patted off some of the blood and dirt. ¡°All the monsters on the 29th floor are forming packs closer to the surface instead. Caught me off guard and took one of my beards earlier, that.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­¡± Lia looked a little suspicious, but Claire lightly prodded her in the back and spoke in her usual deadpan tone.


    ¡°He isn¡¯t lying.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not?¡± the former soldier turned only her head.


    ¡°I can tell.¡±


    The statement was followed by a sudden outburst. The shorter cloaked figure began trembling and backing away whilst shaking its head. And then, without saying a word, it drew its blade and attacked.

 Chapter 162 - Headhydra III

    Chapter 162 - Headhydra III


    Drawing a crimson saber, the hooded figure launched itself through the air and aimed straight for Claire¡¯s throat. The lyrkress magically pulled her lizard mace into her hands and prepared to intercept, but the enemy¡¯s blade was parried before she could strike it. Lia stepped between them and caught the weapon with the tip of her rapier.


    Digging her feet into the ground, the cat forced the blade out of the way and retaliated with a heavy, overhead strike. Her sword was barely visible; it moved with such speed that it almost seemed to vanish. But it was deflected nonetheless, blocked by a tiny buckler made of wood and steel. Despite blowing both their hoods away, the collision revealed only the catgirl¡¯s face. Her opponent¡¯s visage was still hidden, sequestered beneath a red scarf covering everything below the bridge of her nose.


    Such masks were typically used to hide key racial features, but the assailant¡¯s species was not at all obscured. Her waist-length, orange-red hair, sharp pointed ears, and piercing coral gaze revealed her status as a blackroot elf. A local, much like the many sharks, grugs, and scyphs that filled the streets.


    ¡°The hell are you doing!? Both of you!? Can we not calm the fuck down for just one goddamn moment!? I swear to Dorr!¡± The dwarf placed both hands on his hairless head as he shouted, but he was ignored by everyone else involved.


    The cat and the elf were too busy staring each other down, the water mage seemed to be hesitating, and Claire was in the middle of evaluating the status quo. Something about the elven warrior bothered her. She seemed familiar. And not just because of the way she looked.


    The biggest hint was the girl¡¯s stance. Her back was hunched over, her feet were spread wide, and her knees were aggressively bent. She kept her shield far in front of her whilst her sword was positioned closer to her body, its blade held into a reverse grip and its tip pointed at her foe. The entire posture screamed that she had come from the lands to the north. Because it came hand in hand with a sword mastery skill known as the Royal Cadrian Springblade¡ªthe signature of many a cottontail knight.


    Her next attack only confirmed the lyrkress¡¯ suspicion. The elven fighter straightened her legs and launched her body into a reckless charge. She moved with a speed exceeding even that of the catgirl¡¯s blade. The air roared as it was pushed aside by her raw speed, creating a shockwave that blasted a thick cloud of dust through the arena. Natalya could barely keep up. There was no time for her to retaliate. She managed to dive out of the way, but even then, the attack nicked her, catching a few bits of hair as it passed.


    The Cadrian knight slid to a stop a few meters behind her, her body already spun around and her stance lowered again. She was ready for another charge, whereas Lia had barely recovered from dodging the first. Still, the blademaster was unconcerned. The elf wasn¡¯t the only fighter with a service record under her belt, nor the only veteran that had been classified an elite.


    Digging her heels into the ground, she raised her rapier and pointed its tip towards the incoming bullet. The elf switched up her trajectory and ducked closer to the ground, but Lia deflected her blade regardless. The catgirl wasn¡¯t any faster than she was during their first exchange, but her movements were more deliberate; her sword was positioned towards her opponent¡¯s destination well in advance.


    The third repetition was met with a similar improvement. Time almost seemed to slow as their weapons met, both fighters delivering heavy, diagonal strikes. A thousand transient sparks flashed, accompanied by an ear piercing, metallic screech. Half the elf¡¯s crimson blade had lost its edge in the encounter, but Lia¡¯s rapier, the infamous Belyaev¡¯s Whistle, was ever pristine.


    Realising that she was at a disadvantage, the elven knight refrained from repeating the attack a fourth time. She raised her center of gravity and pulled her shield closer towards her core as she focused her eyes on her foe. The knife-eared attacker had already identified the catgirl¡¯s trick. There were many experienced swordsmen amongst her friends and teachers, and blademaster¡¯s focus was a universal skill, acquired unconditionally by all that managed to obtain the class. She needed to change her methods if she didn¡¯t want her opponent to acclimate to her technique.


    A problem that Lia solved for her.


    By denying her the opportunity to think.


    Advancing, she closed the distance between them and delivered another heavy blow, a spinning, horizontal slash backed by the full force and weight of her body. The elf caught the attack with her shield again, but it was knocked out of the way, her arm erupting into a fountain of blood.


    The knife ear had failed to anticipate the sudden increase in the catgirl¡¯s strength; there had been no reason to suspect that she could empower her attacks with no obvious tell. She was at a disadvantage and her mind was racing to catch up. Still, the Cadrian fighter evaded the stab that followed. She twisted her neck out of the way, and retaliated with a stab of her own.


    She managed to skim the side of the Paunsean¡¯s arm, but a blast of water separated them before she could do any more damage. The mage, the elf¡¯s companion, had finally made his move. The skeleton had launched his attack from the sidelines, where he stood with all the other nonparticipants.


    But though the lich was the first to act, it was not the first to speak.


    ¡°Stand down, Nymphetel Blackroot.¡±


    Claire waited for the Cadrian warrior to steathe his blade and kneel before stepping forward and taking on her humanoid form. When she peeled back her hood, she revealed an uncharacteristic smile, innocent and gentle, even kinder than the one she had when she so often petted her fox.


    ¡°Y-yes, my lady,¡± said the knight, in a distinctly feminine voice. With just once glance, the squire decided it was best to keep his head bowed. He didn¡¯t know how she had suddenly managed to appear in Vel¡¯khan. But whatever the case, he knew better than to disobey.


    ¡°You may rise.¡± The noble lady came to a stop directly in front of her servant and continued in a whisper. Just quiet enough for only the elf to hear. ¡°Do not reveal my identity. This is an order of utmost importance.¡±


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    ¡°U-understood,¡± he whispered back, then raised his voice again. ¡°Good tidings, my lady. It pleases me greatly to see that you have recovered from the injuries you suffered in the recent attack. I feared the worst, when I first learned that you had been bedridden.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be silly, Nymphetel.¡± The lyrkress pressed a hand to her lips and giggled. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    Claire almost wanted to sigh. She had expected nothing less than for her father to claim that she was either kidnapped, bedridden, or deceased. There was no other way to justify her sudden disappearance, and he was never one to miss the ample opportunity it provided.


    ¡°A great relief indeed, my lady. I admit that it was shameful for me to flee, and that I am embarrassed that you have personally come to retrieve me.¡±


    She had no idea what he was talking about, but nodded and smiled when he looked to her for confirmation.


    ¡°But from your display I see clearly the error of my ways. I shall return to your service immediately and accept whatever punishment you wish to dole.¡±


    ¡°Woah, you even have knights and stuff?¡± Sylvia popped up from her position in Claire¡¯s hood, and cast a curious gaze on what was likely one of her distant cousins.


    She was the only one to join the conversation. The others were all too confused or afraid to interrupt the game of charades. Because even to the outsiders, it was clear. Nymphetel had only attacked because he recognized the lady in question, and said lady had been ready to retaliate in kind.


    ¡°I guess you really did use to be a fancy noble thingy after all!¡± Because she was the only third party, the fox expected both the conversation¡¯s participants to pay her heed. A questionable assumption indeed.


    ¡°My father certainly might have condemned you, but he and I have never quite shared sensibilities.¡± Another giggle. ¡°There is no reason for you to be so formal. Please, relax.¡±


    ¡°Wait a second! Did you just ignore me!?¡± cried the fox.


    ¡°You are too kind, my lady.¡±


    ¡°Wait! Both of you are ignoring me!¡±


    Nymphetel was a new recruit, a trainee recently brought to the manor just a year or two prior to Claire¡¯s sudden departure. Like many other fresh squires, the elf was a local adventurer, known for slaying powerful monsters far beyond what most could manage. And as a greenhorn, the monster hunter was set to be trained by all the manor¡¯s masters as to best match talent with function. That was why the lyrkress found Nymphetel¡¯s motives unclear; the duke¡¯s spymaster training had resonated far too well with the blackroot warrior.


    Adding to the lyrkress¡¯ concern was the knowledge that the elf was precisely the sort of agent that her father often sent back into the field. The Blackroot¡¯s duty may very well have been to function as her captor, or perhaps as a scout meant to determine and relay her location. She was tempted to immediately resolve the problem by drawing her blade. And she would have, had she not caught an abnormality in one of his claims.


    ¡°I missed you dearly this last month, Nymphetel. It was difficult not to wonder where you might have gone.¡± Claire pressed a hand to her chest and frowned. It was a disappointed, almost sad look. One that only the conversation¡¯s participants were aware was fake. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°Hellloooooo?¡± Sylvia leapt off the lyrkress¡¯ head and kicked the elf in the face. But there was no response. Not even a flinch.


    ¡°I must admit that I felt fear. I was not aware that our enemies were capable of such careless devastation, and I wished not to be on the receiving end.¡±


    The elf¡¯s face was just as calm as Claire¡¯s, but internally, he was in a complete panic. Like most of the other knife ears working for House Augustus, Nymphetel had always been convinced that the noble lady possessed some sort of hidden strength, and that her facade was another product of one of her father¡¯s schemes. He refused to believe that the daughter of such a powerful man could have been so weak, or that the duke would have allowed her to forgo active duty, where she would kill and grow stronger.


    Seeing the conspiracy finally validated, he was convinced that execution was the only fate that awaited. They would not let him live with knowledge of the truth; Virillius was the sort of man that would always ensure his secrets were kept. And death was a currency in which he often dealt.


    ¡°I understand that such spinelessness is difficult to forgive, but I implore you to find it in your heart to provide me the opportunity to make amends.¡±


    ¡°What the heck, Claire! Stop ignoring me!¡± Her patience at its limit, the fox climbed back on her mount¡¯s shoulder and promptly bit one of her ears.


    The knight nearly gasped in horror. ¡°W-what manner of creature is this, my lady? And why have you allowed it to commit an act so vile?¡± Nymphetel immediately drew his blade and took up a stance, but settled back down when the lady raised her hand.


    ¡°This is my pet.¡± Claire lifted Sylvia off her shoulders and pulled her into her arms. ¡°It is certainly lacking in intellect, but its actions are to be forgiven regardless.¡± She looked down and gently prodded one of the critter¡¯s cheeks, before whispering without moving her lips. ¡°I wasn¡¯t ignoring you, Sylvia. I¡¯m busy.¡±


    ¡°You were totally ignoring me!¡± complained the hat, in an equally hushed tone.


    ¡°Your pet?¡± The elf gave the other forest dweller a heartfelt look of pity, one that leaked through the supposed intelligence officer¡¯s carefully crafted mask. ¡°I was under the impression that the master had forbidden you from having such a thing.¡±


    Setting the fox down on the ground, Claire placed both hands on her hips and puffed up her non-existent chest. ¡°Perhaps in the past, but now I happen to be at liberty to do whatever I please.¡±


    It was an obvious lie. Even if Virillius was to relax his grip, he would do it slowly, not all at once. But Claire didn¡¯t care. She had already concluded that the elf was not present on her father¡¯s orders. Nymphetel¡¯s training was not scheduled to be complete for another two years, and their meeting was too much of a coincidence. She surely would have continued to suspect him had they encountered one another on Cadrian soil, but Virillius¡¯ influence was not as omnipresent in regions so distant. He simply didn¡¯t have the manpower to cast a net so wide.


    The Tal¡¯ihirian native was instead exactly as he claimed¡ªa runaway, someone who had abandoned the army but still lived in fear of the Cadrian hero¡¯s shadow. So she clasped her hands together and put on another innocent smile.


    ¡°I shall accept your allegiance, Nymphetel Blackroot. But I have no commands to give, as it happens that I am in the midst of a task of my own. You may continue to act as you please, abroad or not.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, my lady.¡±


    It was a dismissal. She had effectively told him to get out of her face. They would go their separate ways, and that would be the end of the encounter. Neither would have to deal with the other, ever again.


    Understanding the unspoken message, the elven knight nodded and got back down on one knee. ¡°By your command, my lady.¡±


    She was still tempted to kill him. Nymphetel was only a squire, a fresh trainee. But a squire was still a Cadrian knight. And though she had yet to see the full extent of Lia¡¯s power, she suspected that they were unlikely to come out ahead.


    Turning around, she gestured for the catgirl to follow and made her way back over to the stairs.


    Lia hesitated at first, but soon greeted the other party with a nod, secured her blade in her holster, and joined the lyrkress in her retreat. There was a lot to take in, but at least two things were made clear. There was a reason Claire was hiding her identity, and it would take an impossible amount of self-restraint not to pry.

 Chapter 163 - Headhydra IV

    Chapter 163 - Headhydra IV


    The town that had grown outside Farenlight¡¯s Den was a tiny village officially designated as the Seventy Second Royal Outpost. Its name was used only on official documents; the locals never spoke it, and those that filed the papers were the sole individuals aware of the moniker to begin with. The tiny settlement was not even labeled on any maps; cartographers would simply draw a few structures in the den¡¯s vicinity to imply its presence. Most would simply refer to it with whatever term happened to come to mind at the time, with ¡®the town¡¯ being the most common among its citizens.


    Though strange, the phenomenon was one that could be easily explained. There was no sense of identity. The tiny outpost had only about a hundred permanent residents, more than half of whom were born within its confines. The other four or five hundred people that hung around its vicinity were merchants, monster hunters, adventurers, and their associates. And for good reason. It took a certain type of fool to settle down outside a dungeon, especially one whose entrance was left unsealed and unguarded. There was no telling when a swarm of monsters would suddenly erupt from its depths and erase everything that the outpost¡¯s settlers had worked to create.


    There was no denying that most of the locals were lacking when it came to the ability to reason, but it was not as if their choice of real estate was entirely unjustified. Farenlight¡¯s Den certainly did have a track record of leaking its creatures out into the wild, but that was over thirty years prior, before its lower floors were sealed. With the installation of the security feature came an era of tranquility. The den¡¯s monsters began keeping to themselves, attacking only the spelunkers that ventured within its depths. A trend that many a gold-obsessed merchant took for granted.


    Most had simply started businesses in the area, but the more ambitious among them took advantage of every one of the lucrative opportunities available by planting their roots and ingraining them in the soil. And at a glance, it appeared as if their choice, their investment, was correct. The tiny ramshackle tents they set up upon their arrival quickly transformed into reputable inns and hotels. The hospitality they offered drew more visitors and opportunities in turn. Some had made their fortunes atop the lands where the monsters lay. And the village¡¯s unofficial head of state, the only merchant tolerant enough to deal with all the extra government paperwork, was exactly one such individual.


    Scratching his beard with the tip of his still-inky pen, Kar¡¯nessen looked up to his blackboard and double checked his math. The first thought that echoed through his mind, as he scanned the numbers, was that he wanted nothing to do with any of the paperwork, that it was time for him to pack up and leave the outpost behind him. Objectively, he knew that it was the right choice for his personal growth, but his sense of responsibility kept him anchored.


    If he was to vacate, then the abhorrent cheats that were the outpost¡¯s other merchants would attempt to con Her Majesty out of the taxes she was owed. And that was a sin he simply could not overlook. As evidenced by the anchor-shaped tattoo on his shoulder, the tax collector was a former marine, one of the many men that had served under the Vel¡¯khanese monarch that had sat atop the throne for the past few decades.


    His service years were far in the past; he lacked the talent required to thrive in combat and quickly retired from active duty. And just as he stayed a talentless hack, his loyalties remained as they were. Even without the checkered sealskin hat that was his uniform, he would continue to act in the interest of the crown. Or at least that was his intention. As well as the only reason he took on the work he did.


    Tax collection was not the only administrative duty for which the merchant was responsible. He was also tasked with supervising the dungeon and tracking the conditions within. Any notable changes were to be reported immediately. And it was precisely one such alteration that had prompted him to send a letter to the capital city of Vel¡¯khagan some three weeks prior. Within it was a list of concerns, with the first and foremost stemming from an increase in the proportion of variants. It was small, only about one extra head on the dozen, but such a change was drastic for an underground labyrinth that had remained perfectly static for the better part of three decades.


    And surely enough, the queen¡¯s administrators, his former colleagues in arms, thought the same. The bureau of spelunking and dungeon-related affairs immediately deployed a group of veteran adventurers. They weren¡¯t the most powerful, with their racial levels hovering in the range of 300, but they were more than decent enough a squad to investigate the bizarre circumstances. And it turned out, they arrived just in time.


    The day the plague god¡¯s disciples descended into the labyrinth was the day everything suddenly took a turn for the worse. The first report came in around noon. Several groups of divers had returned to the surface in a panic, their numbers reduced to less than half. The monsters had suddenly started traveling in larger packs, and encounters were more frequent. A number of variants had started popping out of the woodwork, with some requiring special tools and techniques to kill. Even the first floor, whose monsters were all supposed to be around level 40, saw individuals as high as 100.


    Though most of the spelunkers had returned with corpses in tow, Kar¡¯nessen quickly made an executive decision and informed them that there was no time to mourn. He commissioned every fighter in town to participate in setting up an emergency fortification, a series of walls around the well that would keep any rogue monsters at bay. And it wasn¡¯t just the adventurers that were offered the deal. The townsfolk were more often than not part time dungeon divers in their own right, and any that were competent were also employed in the defense. It was a hasty, poorly planned emergency measure, but it served its purpose nonetheless; the lucrative offers he made kept the line secure.


    Only a select few had stayed firm on their decision to flee when he flashed his wealth. A complication he had already accounted for. To those groups, he entrusted more letters, requests to the country for additional reinforcements.


    Every day, the monsters that leapt from the well grew stronger and more numerous. Casualties began appearing amongst the defenders, but the merchant was confident that they would be able to hold until the queen¡¯s knights arrived on the scene.


    Day five, however, brought an immediate end to his fantasy. Because a monster from beyond the tenth floor finally made its way up to the surface. The misshapen freak show that was the klimgor exploder panicked upon seeing the various seasoned veterans positioned around the well and cut its tail loose, as it often would, whenever it stumbled upon a threat.


    According to one of the reports on his desk, none of the citizens, merchants, or other non-combatants were caught in the ensuing blast. But the city¡¯s temporary defenders were not as lucky. Over half of them were fried by the first wave of flames¡ªenough to provide the monster with a level. It repeated the destructive action the next time it rose to the surface and knocked another group out of commission with its freshly regenerated tail.


    And that was only one of the many catastrophic reports he had seen. According to the document he had in hand, another exploder had been sighted in the streets around noon.


    No one had even the slightest clue as to how it managed to worm its way through their defenses, but whatever the case, the result was the same. The lizard was in position to strike where they were most vulnerable. The townsfolk were in grave danger. And that was precisely why the middle-aged kelpfin was doing the town¡¯s taxes. The task was made up of nothing but simple math. It was a relaxing activity he had chosen to relieve his stress. To deal with the reality that he found himself trapped within. He had already done everything he could; an evacuation had long been ordered and enforced, but not everyone had other places to go. Most of the outpost¡¯s non-combatants had been born within its walls and some had never left them. Rather than choosing to retreat to another town, a place they knew nothing about, they chose instead to hole themselves up in the city¡¯s sole religious facility, a tiny church dedicated to the god of death and ascension.


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    Made of enchanted brick and mortar, Xekkur¡¯s temple was more durable than most of the wooden structures spread throughout the village, but not durable enough to endure a detonation. The results could be disastrous, if the monster was startled in the wrong place.


    Sighing, Kar¡¯nessen got up from his desk, walked through the temple¡¯s common area, and looked out through one of the many stained glass windows. And when he did, what he found was not the haunting empty street he expected, but a patch of green with a thin black ellipse right at its centre.


    The towering oculus was still at first, but its focus soon changed, its rotation directing it to none other than the retired kelpfin warrior. The creature wasn¡¯t the only one sizing up another. He too was locked in place, his eyes wide open as he took in its mighty, awe-inspiring frame. It wasn¡¯t just fear that he felt, but a sort of satisfaction and elation that he struggled to describe as anything but a sense of beauty.


    Its body was sleek and elegant, covered from head to tail in a series of sparkling scales. Its tail was tipped with a fan made of a thousand rainbow coloured threads, and its head was adorned with three beautiful gems, horns made out of an iridescent blue crystal. Even its face was pleasant to observe. The vibrant lashes that grew from its eyes and the pearly white fangs that lined its jaw reminded him of a female lizardman in full dress.


    It was a creature he had never before seen in person. Everything he knew about it, he had heard from the town¡¯s veterans and information brokers. But there was one thing he immediately understood. It was an even bigger threat than the klimgor exploder.


    Because the lizard standing outside the chapel was a unique monster above level 400.


    It was Farenlight. The apex predator after which the dungeon was named.


    ___


    A small frown on her face, Claire stepped through the dungeon¡¯s depths with both arms crossed and her weapons holstered. She had only allowed the expression to cross her face after intentionally falling behind and slowly detaching herself from the rest of the group. The lyrkress needed a break, a bit of time to herself to catch her breath and do away with her less-than-effortless mask. She had worn it too often as of late, all because the elf¡¯s camp was not too far from their own.


    Both groups had anchored down in an attempt to wait out the boss¡¯ respawn timer, but in the end, it refused to show no matter how many hours they waited. Claire eventually decided that there was no point in loitering any longer and suggested a return to the surface. The proposal had been directed to Lia and Lia alone, but the dwarf, who had happened to be nearby, noted that they were also due for a journey back to town.


    With her persona already established, the noble lady had no choice but to rely on another to shoot down the decision, but the stupid cat had agreed before she had the chance to inform her of her reluctance. Sylvia was not officially considered a person and didn¡¯t have a say, which meant that only Nymphetel could have spoken out against the decision. But he didn¡¯t. Even though it was in his own best interest.


    It was not as if the lyrkress was incapable of understanding the dwarf¡¯s perspective. There was safety in numbers; having more hands on deck meant that they would be able to dispatch any inbound threats more quickly. But because they never spoke or otherwise interacted directly, she had failed to anticipate that he would be mindless enough to suggest that ¡°it would be best for the lady to travel with her knight.¡± Truly, a proposal idiotic enough for the eternal records.


    She managed to drift roughly two hallways away before someone finally noticed that she was missing. Lia, who had been flipping through the usual book, suddenly perked up and started looking for her, a fact made clear by her ability to see the catgirl through the dungeon¡¯s walls.


    ¡°Claire!? Where did you go!? Are you okay!?¡± She found it mildly entertaining to watch as the panicked Paunsean spun around in place and shouted her name. A part of her wanted the status quo to persist, but she soon picked up the pace and rejoined the group. She had gotten the two minutes she needed, and it was unlikely that anything but a long rest would help.


    ¡°I¡¯m terribly sorry, everyone!¡± She giggled in a way that got on her own nerves as she sped up and jogged back over to the group. ¡°One of the klimgors happened to possess a remarkably interesting scale pattern and I couldn¡¯t help but stare.¡±


    Put off by the bubbly, almost dimwitted remark, Lia smiled awkwardly and replied with a hesitant nod. ¡°R-right. Let us know next time, so you don¡¯t get separated.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    The catgirl slowed her pace to match the lyrkress¡¯ and got just close enough for the half-moose to feel uncomfortable. ¡°Do you really have to keep acting like that?¡±


    Lia had been somewhat confused by the sudden switch at first. She had, for a period, even suspected that the more refined countenance was Claire¡¯s true face, and that she only acted the way she did to protect herself from any would be ne''er do wells. When she tried to confirm the theory, however, she quickly realised the error of her ways, largely in part because she found herself faced by the sort of stare given only to those that asked stupid questions.


    After quickly glancing at the other party, and confirming that no one was looking, Claire placed a hand on the catgirl¡¯s forehead and shoved her away. ¡°Stop getting so close. I can hear you just fine,¡± she said. ¡°And, yes, I do. It¡¯s a matter of dignity.¡±


    ¡°What the heck is the point of dignity supposed to be anyway?¡± asked the lyrkress¡¯ fox-shaped hat. ¡°It¡¯s not like anyone that¡¯s not a kid is actually gonna respect you any more ¡®cause you act funny.¡±


    ¡°Maybe not. But some people won¡¯t respect you when you don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but why do you need them to respect you in the first place? Didn¡¯t you already say that you¡¯re not a real lady anymore?¡±


    The fox¡¯s question was met with a brief pause. Claire stopped where she was and put a finger on her chin. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just feel like it.¡±


    ¡°Even though it tires you out?¡± asked the fox.


    ¡°Even though it tires me out,¡± parroted the snake.


    ¡°I think your energy might be better spent elsewhere.¡± Lia spoke with a strained smile as she jabbed her rapier into a wall and revealed a dead chameleon. The monster was of a species that was only supposed to have appeared beyond the barrier on the tenth floor, but oddly enough, they were present in droves on the third.


    ¡°No thanks. I¡¯d rather conserve my energy,¡± said Claire. ¡°And those things aren¡¯t worth killing. They barely give any experience.¡±


    ¡°Culling them might help the dungeon get back to normal a little bit faster,¡± said the cat.


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°Is that how that works?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure.¡± The cat was given a fed up glare ¡°B-but I¡¯ve heard that killing everything that¡¯s out of place is a fairly reliable way to get everything reset.¡±


    ¡°Sylvia?¡± Given the cat¡¯s less-than-well-sourced intel, the lyrkress turned to the closest thing to a dungeon expert she had on hand.


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ I dunno. Lly-¡± She pressed both paws to her mouth and stopped herself short. ¡°The dungeon I used to live in didn¡¯t have anything like rules like that, at least, but it might be different from place to place. Al was kinda weird, so I dunno if his dungeon really even followed any of the normal rules.¡±


    For a moment, Claire was tempted to write off the answer as an unknowable, but soon recalled that not everyone present was new to the den.


    ¡°Boris?¡±


    The misshapen broadsword shook its head. Apparently, it had no idea how anything around its own home worked.


    ¡°Stupid lizard.¡±


    The less-than-intelligent reptile strapped to her back waved its legs in protest, but she ignored it and plodded along.


    The group moved in relative silence until they were about halfway through the first and final floor. Claire grabbed Lia right before they rounded a corner and halted her advance.


    ¡°Something¡¯s wrong,¡± said the lyrkress.


    Raising her ears overhead and focusing on the screams and clashes, coming from above, Claire began to filter out the details. The smashing of bone and metal, the teary squeals of women and children, and the victorious battlecries of monster over man. Something was happening on the surface.


    Something that was causing many a seasoned warrior to scream in terror.


    And if they continued forward, it was unlikely they would have any choice but to face it head on.

 Chapter 164 - Headhydra V

    Chapter 164 - Headhydra V


    Claire narrowed her eyes as she spotted the dungeon¡¯s entrance from afar. The well was only a few dozen feet away, and the sounds of battle had finally grown loud enough for everyone else to have caught onto the crisis. Still, they proceeded in relative silence, with the dwarf the only one to have reacted. The look on his face was grim and he was actively fiddling with everything his hands could reach; the canteen on his waist, the stubble on his face, and the short spear on his back were all made victims of his molestation.


    Boris was just as fidgety. The sentient weapon was shaking in fear, his trembling growing more intense as they got closer to the surface. When asked to explain, he would only shake its head, a desperate attempt to convey that he was far from ready for the battle to come.


    Still, the group pressed forward. They climbed up the side of the well and cast their eyes on the burning, bloodied town. Not everything was destroyed. The job board was still mostly in one piece, its streets were still walkable, and only half the buildings had collapsed. All in all, the state was much better than what Claire had expected to see, given the scale of the conflict she had heard.


    The well itself was unguarded, but there were dozens of adventurers and soldiers combing through the town, chasing down the various monsters that littered its streets. She knew very little about Vel¡¯khan¡¯s armed forces or the crests associated with the state¡¯s nobility, but even then, she could tell that whoever the troops belonged to had at least put them through the wringer. They remained perfectly calm, even while the local adventurers ran around like headless chickens. It was almost like they were unable to see the giant lizard that served as the city¡¯s new backdrop.


    The aforementioned monster was engaged in battle with a group of airborne fighters, scyphs adapted to life outside of water. Each of the heavily armoured sentient jellyfishes was lobbing spells aplenty, but they were too weak. Even if they did hit, the magical beams and blasts dealt little to no damage; the monster was practically immune to their attacks.


    ¡°Farenlight,¡± muttered Claire.


    They were far away from the twenty-meter-tall beast, but its presence remained immediately apparent. There was something about the magic it radiated; its energy almost seemed to pollute the surrounding air and weigh it down in a way that was impossible to miss. It was unmistakably the boss they had failed to find in the dungeon¡¯s depths.


    And surely enough, its power was incomparable to any of its underlings¡¯. A dozen trees would find themselves shredded to bits each time it swung its tail, regardless of whether it struck them. Its breath was just as deadly; each of its roars would cut everything caught in the path to pieces. It didn¡¯t take a genius to put two and two together. Farenlight was an aeromancer, a sorcerer capable of conjuring blades out of thin air and weaponizing the wind itself. A fact of which its enemies were well aware.


    At least half of them were specialized in earth magic. Giant pillars of stone, defensive bulwarks, erupted from the ground each time it called the wind. And though the lizard was certainly continuing to rip the forest apart, the soldiers had the situation under control. They were leading it further and further away from town whilst keeping the casualty count at zero. It had effectively been contained. There was nothing for Claire to do but grumble as she planted her feet back on solid ground.


    ¡°I¡¯ve gotta go check my house!¡± The dwarf abandoned the group as soon as he escaped the well. Placing a series of previously shaved beards back on his face, he sprinted down the street at many times his previous speed and made for his place of residence.


    ¡°I suppose this is where we part ways, my lady.¡± Nymphetel turned to the lyrkress and dropped to one knee. ¡°Ruzzes may be a hired hand, but he was a member of our party all the same. We cannot simply leave him be.¡±


    ¡°Oh Nymphetel, you silly squire.¡± A giggle escaped the lyrkress¡¯ lips, even as she covered them with her fingers. ¡°I have already told you that you are free to act however you wish. Please, go.¡±


    ¡°By your command.¡± Bowing his head again, the elf sprang to his feet, signalled for the skeleton to follow, and chased after the bearded guide. He was so much faster than the mountain spirit that he caught up with him before he turned the first corner. And soon enough, they were fighting together, warding off the monsters that got in their path. The water mage was no slower. Coating his bony feet in a layer of conjured fluid, he skated through the city¡¯s streets and chased down his group in the blink of an eye.


    ¡°Finally.¡± After waiting for the trio to turn a corner, Claire heaved a sigh, brought a hand to her face, and massaged her temples. ¡°I wanted to kill that dwarf. For suggesting that we work together.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on!¡± jeered Sylvia. ¡°He was just being nice and trying to help.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes, trying and failing is worse than not trying.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush. You just need to stop being so pessimistic,¡± huffed the fox.


    ¡°I¡¯m not pessimistic.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh. And I¡¯m not a fox.¡±


    Claire was tempted to point out that the fox was, in fact, not exactly a fox, but kept her mouth shut and scratched the half-elf¡¯s chin. They were likely to get attacked if they continued raising their voices, and the last thing she wanted to do was attract more small fry. She had already killed too many on the way up, and it took a dozen of them for her experience meter to show even the slightest bit of visible progress.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think the elf was too happy about it either,¡± said Lia. ¡°She seemed to put her guard up whenever you were around.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°Not my problem.¡± She scanned the town again and confirmed that nothing caught her eye. ¡°So? What now?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked the cat.


    ¡°Oh, oh, I know!¡± Sylvia raised a paw. ¡°She¡¯s trying to say that she doesn¡¯t want to be here anymore because there¡¯s nothing worth killing, since they already have that giant lizard thingy over there under control.¡±


    Lia focused on the monster in question before twisting her lips into a frown. ¡°I don¡¯t think they do.¡± Her pupils narrowed into slits as she continued looking into the forest, through the giant trees that towered over even Farenlight¡¯s frame. ¡°Their formation doesn¡¯t look right. It feels like they¡¯ve had to shuffle around in order to make up for their casualties. I doubt they¡¯ll be able to hold the line for too much longer.¡±


    ¡°Then what are we waiting for?¡± Claire began walking towards the giant lizard, but stopped and spun around after noting the Paunsean¡¯s lack of motion.


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    ¡°Lia?¡±


    The catgirl gulped and nodded. She managed to put one foot forward, but that was as far as she got. Her whole body started to shake, just like Boris¡¯. ¡°S-sorry,¡± she stuttered. ¡°I-I don¡¯t really know what¡¯s come over me.¡±


    A deep breath helped her realign, but she wasn¡¯t able to stay calm for long. She started hesitating again after another few steps, with her tail curled in and her ears twisted out.


    ¡°We can kill it,¡± said Claire. ¡°It¡¯ll be easy.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Lia tightened her grip on her sword and started walking again. But no matter how far she went, she couldn¡¯t quite shake the feeling that something was about to go wrong, that their confidence was misplaced, and that it would lead to their demise.


    Continuing to watch the giant lizard provided little in the way of reassurance. When it next opened its mouth, it fired not only the usual blades of wind, but a blast of green flame, coloured just like its piercing slit eyes. Though it looked no different from an attack based in flame, the discharge that erupted from its mouth had none of the associated properties. It burned nothing and failed to spread to the flammables it touched. Not even the deadfall was set alight by the magical attack.


    But it was not without purpose.


    The plants that it touched decayed and collapsed. The earthen wall used to block it crumbled to bits. And the jellyfish standing behind it had his body melted. His flesh vanished as soon as it was touched by the corrupting flame. The half of his body that didn¡¯t rot fell lifelessly to the ground. He was dead. In just one confirmed hit.


    The remaining troops reformed their ranks in an attempt to make up for the loss of personnel, but their encirclement grew looser and their control over the creature waned. There was no telling why it refused to simply repeat the attack until all the soldiers were gone, but one thing was clear. The lizard would wind up as the last man standing.


    And yet, the cat was able to press on. When she compared the lizard to Vella¡¯s champion, she found that it was just another insignificant bug. Even the girl marching in front of her was more fearsome, perhaps precisely because she resembled him so.


    Shaking her head free of the prejudiced conclusions stewing in the back of her mind, Lia followed the lyrkress into the undergrowth and continued to march. Wallowing in the past, and the fears that came from it, could wait until she dealt with the threat that loomed over the present.


    ¡°We¡¯re here to help!¡± She raised her voice as soon as she arrived on the battlefield and climbed up one of the tallest trees. Once high enough, she drew her rapier, placed it in her mouth, and lunged at the beast¡¯s rear. She knew for a fact that she was in its blind spot; its attention was focused on the soldiers in front of it. But it turned one of its eyes towards her nonetheless. Its tail followed its gaze, sweeping through the air with the catgirl as its target.


    A quiet gasp escaped her throat. She knew what the creature¡¯s conjured blades did to the trees. And what they would do to her. She quickly scanned her surroundings for a nearby branch to land on, or something else she could use to reposition, but she found nothing. The spot she had leapt from was chosen precisely because it provided a clear path.


    Gritting her teeth, the cat pulled her blade back and drew a rune in the air. She would need to enrage if she wanted to survive. Or at least that was what she thought, before she was suddenly redirected. Her rapier started to move with what seemed like a mind of its own. It lurched out of the attack¡¯s path, taking her with it.


    Her sword didn¡¯t return to normal until it set her down atop a branch outside of Farenlight¡¯s range. It didn¡¯t suddenly start speaking to her, nor did it glow in any sort of strange, magical way. But the message was clear. Her sister¡¯s spirit was still with her. Lying dormant within the blade.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, Alina.¡±


    Pushing her glasses aside and rubbing her eyes, the runaway soldier brought the sword close to her chest and took a deep breath.


    ¡°I need to focus.¡±


    She had almost lost her life to a lapse of judgement. It was the sort of silly mistake she had made since her early childhood, and one she couldn¡¯t afford on the battlefield. She needed to recall her roots and fight as dictated by their teacher, to look before she leapt, and to attack only when it was safe. She couldn¡¯t be reckless. Not like the lyrkress sprinting towards the giant lizard¡¯s face, continuing straight ahead even with the monster¡¯s tail sweeping towards her.


    ¡°Wait... Claire!?¡±


    She clenched her fists and leapt back into action. But she knew she wouldn¡¯t make it in time. There was no way for the cat to get to the creature¡¯s rear and disrupt its attack before it launched a spell and ripped the noble lady¡¯s body to shreds.


    Lia could do nothing but grit her teeth, clench her fists, and observe her last moments. A thought that persisted until Claire¡¯s body suddenly defied the laws of physics. Without bending her legs or going through any other sort of preparatory motion, the lyrkress shot into the air like an arrow. She changed directions a dozen times, with each just as sudden and unjustified. She darted to and fro, avoiding Farenlight¡¯s tail and approaching its body through a barrage of windy blades. It was the same agile technique she had employed against their first klimgor tyrant. Only, she was doing it without any of the necessary terrain.


    Farenlight eventually gave up on chasing with its tail and opened its mouth to increase its coverage, but that was exactly what she wanted. Claire threw her imaginary snake straight into the open maw and injected the beast¡¯s tongue with an unhealthy dose of poison. She cycled through all the substances at her disposal, but none of them had any immediate effects. Bee venom didn¡¯t make it flinch, soarspore poison didn¡¯t make it sneeze, tetrodotoxin didn¡¯t cripple it, and rocket fuel appeared completely ineffective. Not even quicksilver had managed to leave its mark¡ªnot that she expected it to. The poison was one that had yet to amount to anything but a minor inconvenience.


    Frowning, she accepted the result without thinking too deeply and moved Shouldersnake onto another task. The serpent conjured a blade of ice and started to drill its way through the roof of Farenlight¡¯s mouth. It was a tried and true method, one even effective on the eldritch frog. And surely enough, it produced results. She could see the monster¡¯s flesh giving in as her living weapon got deeper and deeper into its head.


    But another breath attack evaporated the snake in its entirety. Even though she was unaware that it could be damaged.


    A wave of emotions worked their way through her head as she ducked out of the way, but long lasting, the menagerie was not. It was replaced almost entirely by mild annoyance when the immaterial serpent appeared on her shoulder again, its mouth twisted into a pout. The obnoxious ghost went on to complain about something or other, but she ignored it and focused on the battle.


    There was not enough time for her to idle around. Lia and the knights had already initiated the next wave of attacks, with the catgirl slashing at the base of the monster¡¯s tail and the soldiers firing another barrage of magic. The spells did very little as usual, but they stole the lizard¡¯s focus nonetheless. And provided her the opportunity to strike.


    With her first strategy already thrown to the winds, she was unable to immediately arrive at any obvious ways to inflict permanent damage. There was nothing in her kit that would allow for a single big hit. She would have chased after the obvious vital points that were its eyes, but attacking them involved exposing herself to the allied magical onslaught, so she settled instead for approaching its front leg.


    Smashing all its stubby toes with the still trembling lizard on her back, she pressed a hand against the tree-sized limb and started draining the monster¡¯s health and mana.


    Its frame protected her from friendly fire, but its leg was too thick to grab, and the scales too slippery to serve as an anchor point. With just a bit of flailing, the beast was able to send her flying into a nearby tree. She could feel the bones in her back creaking as her spine was bent out of shape by the wood. But of those that had been attacked, she remained the one that had taken the least damage.


    The breath she evaded had caught a group of soldiers and immediately robbed them of their lives; there were only four of them left. Lia¡¯s assault had ended in failure. The cat was missing an arm, and her tail was clearly broken, bent completely out of shape and drenched in a layer of blood. Something had clearly struck her, but Claire had no idea what.


    Farenlight, on the other hand, was still in the spitting image of perfect health. The monster was effectively unharmed, the gash Lia had left on its rear its only visible injury.


    Defeating it was sure to be an uphill battle. But Claire had a plan. All she needed to do was wait for all the stars to align.

 Chapter 165 - Headhydra VI

    Chapter 165 - Headhydra VI


    She was not always a powerful predator, or even a predator at all. When her mind first formed, she was just another one of the many worms that dug through the soil, a tiny, insignificant maggot that mindlessly slithered about, eating whatever she could find. Because she could not see, smell, or hear, the only things her world revolved around were movement and flavour. That was why she liked to eat. Eating always filled her with vigour and blessed her with new experiences. She soon learned that not all food was hard or salty. Some of it was sour, some of it was soft and sweet, and some of it would wriggle around whenever she bit into it. And that was the kind she liked the most.


    The primeval joy that came with eating drove her to slither around and look for all the squirmy things she could. And it was through her wandering, her ravenous feeding-frenzy, that she discovered the ability to form complex thoughts. Consuming one of the extra sour things she found cleared her mind. It gave her eyes, ears, and a nose. The ability to sense her environment in ways she had never thought possible before.


    When she made use of her senses, she found that the thing she was eating was one of many strewn throughout her world. She didn¡¯t know exactly what they were, but they were big and made up of six main pieces, sometimes seven. The enigmatic seventh part was always the toughest to eat. Her jaws had difficulty getting through it, and she would have to chew for days on end. But the insides were worth it. They were often tasty, just like the other six parts. Eventually, she decided that the seventh parts were egg sacks, like the one that she had emerged from. Because they couldn¡¯t have been anything else.


    Unlike her, the strange tasty things weren¡¯t fully hatched. Even though they were bigger than their shells, and many many times her size. A fact she didn¡¯t think much about. Strength continued to flow into her as she ate. Enough strength to chase away all the other hatchings that wanted to rob her of her meal. Those that didn¡¯t flee from her, she ate. Because they were wriggly and delicious all the same.


    And it was precisely after eating one of the aforementioned hatchlings that she found herself changing again. Even without being able to see herself, she understood that she had suddenly gone from being one thing to another. Parts sprouted from her core. The pieces of her body grew separate and more distinct. And she even found that she no longer had to crawl on her belly. Eating was easier too. The pieces were smaller, and more easily broken apart when she opened her mouth and chewed. Even though they were the same size they had been before.


    But though the change simplified her life, not everything was as easy as it seemed. Many of the things she tried to eat tried to eat her back. Some of them stood on two of their parts. While others stood on four. But they were all the same, food in her belly at the end of the day. The only difference she noticed was that the ones that made themselves look taller had stranger roars. And that they varied more in size.


    A particular encounter with one such big thing nearly ended her journey. The one she found was different from all the others. Wider. Taller. Its shouts were even longer, and it would sometimes throw strange things at her. Things that appeared out of nowhere and carved into her flesh. That was how she learned the meanings of panic and death. It smashed something into her eyes. And made it so she couldn¡¯t see. Only hurt.


    She didn¡¯t know what happened after that. But she woke up again, her body was whole and her consciousness was intact. She had the vague recollection that something had roared at her after the thing that beat her walked away. And she didn¡¯t know if it was because of that or some other reason. But the thing that defeated her had failed to eat her.


    So she tried to chase it down. To make it known that she was the eater and that it was the eaten.


    It took a long, long time for her to find it. She ate many, many things along the way, and her body grew stronger and tougher. But even then, it was still the victor. It beat her down the same way it had before. By slicing her head apart.


    When she woke up the next time, she did so in a blind fury. Retracing her steps, she rushed it. Again and again. But each time, it was the one who won. It wasn¡¯t until she stopped to think, to understand that her mistake was running right at it, that she was finally allowed to partake a flavour beyond the bitterness of defeat. And so sweet and savoury it was. The taste of its flesh, as it slid down her throat.


    A taste that came alongside another change in her form.


    Her body grew even bigger. Bigger than any of the other creatures that thrived alongside her. And with the increase in her brain mass came an even greater increase in her understanding of the world. The creature she had killed was one of the many invaders that ran rampant within her home. They were plenty. Just like the ever increasing number of her kin. And knowing that was what prompted her to hunt them.


    She was not always successful. Some of them would kill her in return, but each of her deaths would end in lessons learned. Mastery of combat was ingrained into her bones, fused into the very essence of her being as she continued to fight against the interlopers. Because, according to the divine being that preserved her consciousness, it was not yet her time. She still had a task to see through. And see through it she did. She not only attacked the intruders that dared to venture within her home, but also those that happened to be near it. All that dared to cross her were slain.


    Eventually, they seemed to learn their lesson. They came to understand that she was their superior and refrained from wandering too close to her territory. Until one day, when she was slain again.


    She tried to chase down her murderers immediately after her death. But she couldn¡¯t. They had placed something in her path. An immovable object that she couldn¡¯t squeeze through. Her attacks almost didn¡¯t seem to register. Not even her trump card, the rotting flame that ate even the organ that produced it. Something about the barrier made it impervious. She couldn¡¯t break free. No matter how she struggled.


    But while the chains had her at their mercy, the intruders did not appear to share her restrictions. Most of the ones she sensed remained beyond the barrier, but those that wished to wander past it often did. And some were even successful in seeking her residence and putting her down. Others were not as lucky and found defeat, perhaps by her hands, or those of her roommates. Either way, her life went on. With more peace and sleep than bloodlust and violence.


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    She soon settled into the once unwelcome change. Lazing away the days and nights. Until the next sudden shift.


    The air changed one day. Because the barrier was disrupted, and not in the usual way. It failed to return to normal, as it always did, and provided instead an opening that led to the surface. Another chance to destroy those that had dared to infringe upon her property, to place their homes above her own. Seeing no reason to hold back, she took the change in stride. Turning the same colour as the wind, she snuck past all three groups of intruders, squeezed her way out through the tiny hole in the barrier, and examined the settlement established on the other side of the door.


    Upon silently observing it, she found much of her rage quelled. She did not understand it. But something about it roused a strange feeling within her chest. The intruders were not just intruders. They had added something to her home. Even though it meant taking away the lives of many of her kin. And hers on occasion as well.


    She wandered through the streets, scanning the various buildings and gazing upon their inhabitants. Strangely, most of them were centered in one of few places. It almost seemed like a waste to have so many strange structures made, and most of them outright abandoned.


    But before long, she found that she was the only one that was willing to coexist. They attacked as soon as she revealed herself to them. As they always had, since the first time she met a premature end.


    With a betrayed, angry roar, she forged blade after blade of wind and cut the town to pieces. It was a shame that she had to destroy their beautiful structures, but they had brought it upon themselves. If they were unwilling to be good neighbours, then she would put them down and drive them away. As she always had.


    They tried to poke at her with pointy sticks and pieces of sharpened rock. Some even made flames like the ones that lined her walls. But none of them could so much as scratch her. She could¡ªwould¡ªhave wiped them out had another group not suddenly appeared in the midst of her rampage. The reinforcements were less numerous, but more powerful than their allies. The strange floating creatures among their ranks were able to make things that she had never seen before. The world itself almost seemed to obey their commands. Just as it did hers.


    The cliffs that they summoned were not powerful, but they got in the way. Her winds could not blow past them, no matter how hard they raged. So frustrated was she that she soon began to bellow, to use the rot that burned the insides of her throat. And surely enough, they fell. One by one. Each time her rot gland returned.


    Even more reinforcements arrived on the scene just when she thought the floaters to be on the verge of defeat. The new pair to join the fray looked different from the others. Much different. But they were harmless all the same.


    The first one to attack struck at her rear without knowing that she could see from each strand on her tail. Thinking the attacker a fool, she lashed out. The attack failed to land, but she could not be bothered to seek out the reason. There were too many rocks hitting her, and they stung just enough to irritate her and redirect her focus.


    Though the rocks were annoying, she soon found that they paled in comparison to the gnat in front of her face. She tried to strike it with her tail, but the wind she blew would never reach.


    Still, she was unbothered. They were weaker than the last ones to slay her. She did not even need to think to cause them any harm, only react to whatever antics they were looking to attempt.


    That was what she thought, what she knew, until the strange gnat suddenly joined the many floating creatures hovering through the sky. The day began to darken as clouds gathered from all over, their rain soaking her through. But she didn¡¯t mind it. Even if it was cold, it did nothing but harmlessly wash off her scales.


    Because it had proven itself inept, she ignored the gnat landing on her face. When it tried to strike at her eyes, she closed them and watched it through her tail instead. It was a minor inconvenience at worst. The rocks hurt more than whatever the gnat was doing. And the other newcomer¡¯s attacks would eat through her scales. She never backed off, even when struck by her tail. Having grown weary of their presence, she raised her head to look at the floaters still pelting her with rocks, snatching one in her jaws to be devoured.


    Accompanying the attack was a searing pain that started at the base of her neck and traveled along its length. Looking through her tail identified the source. The gnat on her head had slid down her back. And following in her tracks was a long bloody gash. The entire wound suddenly found itself encased by a translucent blue substance. The same thing that another one of her attackers had used against her in the past.


    It sent shivers down her spine, the spine exposed to the air.


    And for a moment, she was concerned.


    But then she recalled that there was no need to worry. Because she was close to changing again. She could feel it. It was almost there. All she needed to do was defeat a few more intruders before the gnat on her back followed through on its plan.


    An easy task.


    Opening her mouth, she unleashed her breath and destroyed the remaining floaters. They were completely obliterated. Just like the back of her throat.


    But there was still a problem.


    Two problems.


    One was that she could no longer feel half of her body. Her tail had stopped listening to her; most of her vision had suddenly turned black. Her hind legs and tail obeyed her orders no longer. And without her tail, she could neither see the gnat nor the other thing carving up her hindquarters. Most damning of all though, was the lack of things to kill.


    All the floaters in front of her were dead.


    A familiar primal panic welled up from within her core as she desperately moved her head and looked around for another thing to kill. And thankfully, she found it. Three its. A short fuzzy thing was running towards her, followed by two things that were mostly covered in cloth.


    Her insides the way that they were, it was difficult to produce another breath. But she forced one out from within her. And aimed it right at the group.


    Two of its members managed to dodge out of the way. One of them grabbed the third by the hand and attempted to pull it to safety. But they were not quick enough to escape her rot. Both were fully enveloped.


    Strangely, only one of them died. The other had somehow ignored the rot.


    But it mattered not.


    One was all she needed.


    A burst of energy erupted from within her chest and sent her attackers flying away. It went on to wrap her up, to envelop her in its warmth as it presented a list of options. She had not the slightest clue what any of them were. So she chose one at random. And felt her body change. The world grew larger. Her bones shifted around and forced her into the same sort of stance adopted by her first killer. Limbs, heads began sprouting from the base of her neck. A second, a third, a ninth. Each came with its own thoughts, its own interpretations, but they were all her. And they were all seething to kill the ones that had invaded her territory and stepped all over her hospitality.


    That was her purpose.


    The reason that she, the monster known as Farenlight, had acquired her third ascension. And earned herself the rank of Legendary.

 Chapter 166 - Headhydra VII

    Chapter 166 - Headhydra VII


    A scowl on her face, Claire could only watch as the kill slipped out from between her fingers. The wound she had worked so hard to inflict closed in the blink of an eye. No trace of it was left behind, no scars, no sweat, no blood. Because the monster had employed a tactic she found frustratingly familiar.


    Worse yet was the lack of opportunity that followed. Farenlight sent her flying with a burst of raw energy and turned itself into a giant radiant cocoon. She had tried to assault it again, as soon as she was back on her feet, but the lizard¡¯s ascension had rendered it invulnerable. The very same energy that had displaced her warded off her attacks. She didn¡¯t know how she was supposed to get past its defenses. Not even detonating the pony had proven fruitful. A fact that left her clenching her fists and teeth alike.


    Claire was fresh out of resources. All her divinity had been invested into lengthening her shard, rending the monster¡¯s flesh, and freezing its exposed spine. It was a risky all-in, albeit one that would have proven successful had the mindless mountain spirit not needlessly offered Farenlight his life. It was all his fault; she wanted to make him pay, to strangle him until he compensated her for her wasted efforts, but she had missed her chance. Farenlight had already stolen the one thing she would have wanted to take.


    Shaking her head, she looked towards Natalya. The catgirl¡¯s missing arm and broken tail had both healed, but she looked worse for wear nonetheless. Her face was pale as a sheet, her tail was tucked between her legs, and her lips were trembling. Just as violently as her hands.


    ¡°Lia.¡± She placed a hand on her shoulder, but there was no response. ¡°Natalya.¡± Not even shaking her lightly seemed to pull her from her thoughts, so Claire grabbed the two sides of her face and violently moved her back and forth. ¡°Natalya Vernelle.¡±


    ¡°S-sorry. I was a little out of it.¡± Smiling awkwardly, the cat placed a hand on the lyrkress¡¯ forearm and put an end to the violent lurching. ¡°I didn¡¯t think it was going to suddenly ascend.¡±


    ¡°You can run,¡± said Claire. ¡°If you want.¡±


    The catgirl shook her head. ¡°I-I''m not going to run. I was just a little worried because of how much it reminded me of my last big fight.¡± She took a small breath. ¡°We had the rug pulled out from under our feet.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°Again, you can run, if you want.¡± She drew her mace, who was clawing at the air in an attempt to escape. ¡°Not you. You¡¯re going to help me kill it.¡±


    Boris didn¡¯t quite seem to agree with the decision. His arms and legs both sped up as he struggled to get out of her grasp.


    Log Entry 5980


    Paralyzing Gaze has reached level 31.


    The lyrkress was not oblivious. Her gut was screaming at her, telling her that she was completely outclassed, but she stood firm. It took time for a freshly ascended combatant to grow accustomed to its new body, and Farenlight would be no exception. The ball of energy enveloping its frame had already shrunk to roughly a third its previous size, and she could see the monster taking shape within. It had an absurd number of heads, far more than the commonly accepted limit of three. It was sure to struggle, when making decisions in times of crisis.


    Taking advantage of its befuddlement would provide the perfect opportunity to reap the rewards of its murder. And she was not about to let the opportunity slip out from between her fingers.


    ¡°Boris is right.¡± Having taken another few breaths and finally steadied her nerves, Lia grabbed Claire¡¯s hand and tried to drag her away. ¡°We should run, before it finishes ascending. We¡¯ve already wasted too much time.¡± But it was shaken off.


    ¡°I can kill it.¡±


    Their eyes met. Lia¡¯s were filled with anxiety, but Claire¡¯s were no different from usual. She was wearing the same blank stare as always. Almost the same blank stare as always. Something about it was just different enough, off-putting enough, to send a shiver down the catgirl¡¯s spine. She found every fiber of her being filled with the urge to run, both from the monster and her companion, but she shook her head and held her ground.


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll fight too,¡± said the soldier, with an audible gulp.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. By myself.¡±


    ¡°I know. But I want to help.¡± She was still trembling, but she refused to turn around and flee. ¡°I¡¯m not going to be the only one that runs away again.¡±


    Nodding, Claire turned around, placed a hand on her terrified weapon, and focused all her senses on the monster in front of her, right as its transformation was finally completed. Surely enough, it behaved exactly as expected. Its first step was taken in a drunken stupor¡ªa brief bout of weakness. Everything the lyrkress had hoped for.


    Launching herself with her tail, the moose leapt at the creature¡¯s leftmost head and bashed it with both the icy halberd that formed in her hand and the lizard-shaped mallet that she held in her right. Both strikes were true. There was no mistaking that the hits were confirmed. She could feel her arms ringing with the feedback. But there was no effect. It did not so much as flinch when the ice shattered to pieces, nor did it react to the lizard forcefully applied to the hinge that held its jaw.


    Prior to the monster¡¯s ascension, the lack of damage could have been blamed on a difference in size. A tiny dent in a twenty-meter-tall behemoth was nothing. But Farenlight had shrunk; its dimensions could no longer serve as the cornerstone of its defense. The base of its neck was only two meters off the ground, and the tallest head could only go as high as six, if stretched all the way out. The one that Claire had struck was the lowest hanging fruit, the one that was hovering just below its shoulders.


    Size was not the only feature that Farenlight had lost. Its maturity had also faded with its transformation. Every part of its body was screaming that it was nothing but a child; its limbs were stubby, and all nine of its necks looked like they were disproportionately short, despite being just as long as the rest of its frame.


    Still, even in its underdeveloped state, it had completely ignored her attack. The overhead strike damaged only Boris. His exterior still looked unblemished, but his eyes were spinning in a visible daze.


    Biting her bottom lip, Claire ducked under a headbutt and quickly backed away. It was a careless, half-hearted strike, as if the monster was shooing off a nuisance, but she was not discouraged. The hydra would think differently, once she found its weakness.


    Lia charged in when her companion backed off, as if to take her place as vanguard. Her emerald green eyes were alight with a maddened glow, proof beyond her chant that she had entered a frenzy. It was only a level three berserk with no priority on any specific abilities. But it was enough, enough to bring the fighter into a realm beyond the half-lamia¡¯s reach.


    With a yowling battlecry, the Paunsean knight dashed straight at the nine-headed, four-legged reptilian and delivered a dozen slashes in the blink of an eye. They were difficult, almost impossible to follow. But even as mere flashes of light, their grace remained apparent. None of the strikes were haphazard¡ªBelyaev¡¯s Whistle was moving with fine control and finesse¡ªbut neither were they particularly powerful. She was unable to remove the monster¡¯s head, even with her sword spinning like a drill, so she settled instead for carving a rune into the monster¡¯s breast.


    The symbol did not appear to have any effect, but its canvas remained reasonably upset. Farenlight reared back its stubby legs and roared, with all nine of its heads held high up in the air. Laced into the feral scream was a powerful shockwave, a blast of wind that pushed everything away. Plants, dirt, trees, catgirls. Everything. All that remained was a crater almost a hundred meters across.


    Claire was mangled by the blast. Her hands and fingers were bent out of shape, and her ears had erupted into a fountain of blood. She could hear nothing but a high pitched ringing, a painful screech that left her unsteady on her feet.


    Lia had also taken a direct hit, but she had suffered nowhere near as much damage. Nothing was broken, and she had managed to land upright, with all four limbs planted firmly on the ground and her blade held between her teeth.


    A level four enrage state was invoked as soon as she took her next breath. The few bits of sanity that remained within were discarded for a chaotic blood frenzy. Her teeth bared and her invisible claws at the ready, she charged into the fray again and aimed straight at one of the creature¡¯s necks. Her force and speed had increased to such an extent that the air shattered with a roaring sonic boom.


    Had she started with the attack immediately after Farenlight¡¯s transformation, she likely would have been able to claim at least two of its heads. But it had almost been a minute since the battle resumed, and she was not the only one that quickened.


    Moving just as swiftly as the cat, the lizard twisted all of its heads out of the way and retaliated with a sweep of its still iridescent tail. It was a deadly swing that came with a dozen blades of wind. But Lia took it head on. She raised her free arm and used it as a buffer whilst charging straight through the storm.


    Claire was unable to see the attack that followed, but the results were clear. Natalya¡¯s blade skewed one of the creature¡¯s heads, piercing through its scales, bone, and brain before emerging from the other side.


    One half of a two part attack.


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    Putting both hands on the handle, she spun around and ripped the weapon through the monster¡¯s skull. The spinning blade shredded Farenlight¡¯s face, mashing it like an overcooked potato and throwing chunks of its flesh all over the soggy woodland¡¯s floor.


    A dazzling green inferno erupted from within the broken head¡¯s throat, but again, Lia took it head on. She caught the plague flame in her hands and forcibly dispersed it with a squeeze.


    Her flesh almost seemed to rot away as she clenched her fist, but it healed itself when she enraged again. The fifth descent. The furthest she could go. Her mana swirled around her body, running as rampant as the insanity that corrupted her mind. Slash after slash, she struck the hydra, with her rapier digging deeper into its flesh each time.


    Though a legendary blade, known for breaking countless others, Belyaev¡¯s legacy was Lia¡¯s limiter. The parts of the sword closest to the hilt would follow her hand as she tore it through the air, but the rest of it could never keep place. It bent whenever she swung, sometimes far enough for the tip to touch its guard. The bladed edge would always snap back towards the target like a whip, but on a brief delay.


    The lack of unity between her style and her weapon allowed the monster to see through her attacks, to evade them perfectly and retaliate in kind with blasts of wind. Each dodge was faster, cleaner than the last, and each spell inflicted a deeper wound. Time was on the hydra¡¯s side. All that awaited, once all the grains trickled down the glass, was the bitter taste of defeat.


    It was up to Claire to intervene, to make the difference that would seize victory from the lizard¡¯s nine-headed grasp. But there was nothing she could do. They were moving too quickly for her to keep up. She would never be able to land any of her attacks. And even if she could, they would be too weak to pierce the lizard¡¯s scales.


    Clenching her fists, she glanced briefly at her status. There was still a way for her to make a difference. She just had to disobey her guardian deity, use Alfred¡¯s levels, and ascend. And her pride urged her to follow through. She hated sitting on the sidelines. She hated watching. She hated the fact that she was being factored out of a battle that she should have won. But she clenched her fists and bore with it. Because her father¡¯s words were echoing through the back of her mind.


    It was never impossible for her to dominate a foe that completely outclassed her.


    She just had to get into its head.


    And because it was such a primitive creature, a simpleton with eight useless brains, she found that particular path to victory sitting right in her grasp.


    Forcing her fingers back into their intended positions and cracking her elbow back into place, she placed a hand on her chest, floated up into the air, and raised her voice. Slowly, methodically, after waiting for the drums in her head to trill, she started to sing.


    The song that left her lips was an ordinary rhapsody, a casual tune that her mother happened to prefer. She had no singing skill, no bard class, no way to lace her notes with magic. But bards were amongst the most common adventurers. The hydra was guaranteed to have encountered them, time and time again. And surely enough, it knew. It recognized the singing as something that was dangerous and raised one of its heads to confront her.


    It opened its mouth and produced a spell as soon as they locked eyes. A breath attack that differed from the usual rotting flame. It was a venomous wind, a toxic blast that blistered her skin and made it bubble with warts aplenty. But Claire cared little. She had already achieved her goal. By grabbing its attention, she was able to lock it in place for long enough to mark it as her target and summon a storm. Not a storm of rain, but one of forces. The maximum amount that her mana could afford.


    Gravity bore down on the beast like a flood. Not even all the vectors at her disposal could produce enough power to lock it down, but its movements were dulled. Just enough for it to find itself incapable of escaping the lioness¡¯ fangs.


    Only three of its heads evaded the blademaster¡¯s attack. The rest were all split off, severed and destroyed with a single diagonal slash, backed by all the force of the dark knight¡¯s oath.


    The monster retaliated immediately. It opened all its remaining mouths and prepared to fire a salvo of deadly projectiles. Not even it knew what would come out. And it would never find out. Because the rune in its chest had finally started to glow.


    The magical inscription was the mark of false statis, an epitaph that had reclassified itself as a blademaster skill after ten thousand careful repetitions. Once engraved, its effect was to halve the slashing damage that her target received for exactly sixty seconds. And to pay it all back ten times over, once the time had elapsed.


    There was not enough hydra left to endure the onslaught that followed. Its whole body was shredded to bits as a seemingly infinite number of magical slashes were carved into its frame. It tried to flail, to resist the spell, but nothing could stop it from being ripped to pieces. A violent explosion of blood and gore.


    Log Entry 5981


    Your party has slain a legendary level 500 Primal Ikarett Matriarch, titled The Queen of Farenlight¡¯s Den.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 103 points of agility


    - 48 points of dexterity


    - 61 points of spirit


    - 12 points of strength


    - 128 (64x2) points of vitality


    - 75 points of wisdom


    ¡°So much for a lack of confidence.¡± Claire muttered under her breath as her body fixed its still broken bones. ¡°She practically destroyed it single-handedly.¡± She moved her fingers one at a time, just so she could be doubly sure that everything worked, before descending from her perch and cautiously eyeing the still berserked catgirl.


    At first, she thought it was a mistake, that Natalya was out of control, but she soon realized that the battle was not yet over. Because even though it was dead, even though the entry was right there in her log, above the level up and skill-related entries that followed, Farenlight¡¯s body continued to regrow. Its torso was already fully built. Its legs were in place, and the first of its heads was already on the verge of returning. Lia tried to slash at it, but a powerful barrier warded her off.


    Dashing past the frenzied cat, Claire began attacking from the opposite side. She bashed Boris against the defensive spell over and over, but he was useless. It was as impervious to him as it was to Lia¡¯s blade. So she did it herself. Pressing one hand against the defensive matrix, she drained just enough of its mana to rip a tiny hole. Boris was shoved inside, with his lyrkrian master following soon after. The opening closed behind her and tore off half her tail, but she paid it no mind and joined the metal lizard in assaulting the monster¡¯s flesh.


    The first thing she grabbed was its neck. Wrapping her fingers around its spine, she tore away the structure that held up its brain. The bits of head that had formed quickly crumbled to dust, but the monster failed to perish; its spines continued to grow from all nine broken stumps.


    Its flesh refused to freeze and her forces were incapable of disrupting its regeneration. The only bits and pieces that broke off were the ones that she and Boris attacked directly, with their own bare hands and teeth. But the monster was too big for them to manage on their own. She had to shuffle around on its back to keep all its necks short, and though stealing its health and mana certainly slowed the regeneration process, it failed to grind it to a halt. It looked like she was fated to lose the battle of attrition, until Flux¡¯s voice echoed through her mind again.


    Log Entry 5992


    You have stolen the essence of Farenlight, the immortal guardian of dungeon 0x48DF49A8CF.


    That was the turning point, the moment where all of Farenlight¡¯s regeneration came to a sudden halt. The barrier vanished and the flesh and bone crumbled. Everything in the midst of recovery was turned to dust. The only pieces left behind were the ones that the catgirl had severed, before the beast¡¯s first death.


    Log Entry 5993


    Your party has slain a legendary level 501 Primal Ikarett Matriarch, titled The Queen of Farenlight¡¯s Den.


    Log Entry 5994


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Frostblight Lyrkress, has reached level 248.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Essencethief, has reached level 229.


    Your secondary class, Cloudburst Sorceress, has reached level 203.


    You have gained 870 ability points.


    She had gained a few levels in each class, and her racial class was on the verge of reaching its cap, but all those were facts she soon casually dismissed. Because the messages at the very bottom of the list had already stolen her attention away.


    Log Entry 6001


    You have acquired a new spirit guardian.


    Its name was that of the beast whose essence she had stolen, but the moniker was one that Claire refused to use. To her, the thing that had casually commandeered Sylvia¡¯s spot was Headhydra, and that was all she would ever call it, whether it accepted the designation or not.


    She was tempted to summon the creature and experiment with its abilities, but quickly decided against it. The catgirl had yet to fully calm down. Though her berserk had been dispelled, she was still in an agitated state. There was no telling how she, or any of the townsfolk for that matter, would react to the monster¡¯s sudden reappearance. More convincing, however, was the second entry directly of note, a log that had her furrowing her brows and twisting her lips.


    Log Entry 6002


    A monster you have tamed has reached level 250 and initiated the ascension protocol. It is possible that this individual¡¯s behaviour may be affected by this change.


    Her hands on one of the many klimgor tyrant fangs she happened to have on hand, she kept a close, careful eye on the lizard as he went through a process that she was not yet allowed to complete.


    ___


    Claire


    Health: 19210/19210


    Mana: 32710/32710


    Divinity: 5/5


    Health Regen: 7092/hour (14184/hour)


    Mana Regen: 26370/hour


    Divinity Regen: 5/hour


    Ability Scores - 6294 Points Available


    - Agility: 2312


    - Dexterity: 1815


    - Spirit: 937


    - Strength: 2428


    - Vitality: 1576


    - Wisdom: 2930


    Racial Class: Frostblight Lyrkress - Level 248.21


    - Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts - Level 53.64


    - Frostblight Lyrkrian Shapeshifting - Level 49.71


    - Paralyzing Gaze - Level 31.97


    - Thermodynamic Regulation - Level 14.85


    - True Ice Manipulation - Level 55.89


    Primary Class: Llystletein Essencethief - Level 229.25


    - Catgirl Detector V. 1.00 - Level 7.71


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 18.17


    - Death¡¯s Dance - Level 34.12


    - Essencethief - level 21.70


    - Envenom - Level 41.01


    - Phantom Blade - Level 37.93


    Secondary Class: Cloudburst Sorceress - Level 203.51


    - Force Resistance - Level 10.32


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 22.94


    - Spirit Sorcery - Level 47.16


    - Vector Manipulation II - Level 24.94


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 6


    - Digging - Level 21.79


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority++ - Level 13.80


    - Marish - Level 19.13


    - Sewing - Level 1.43


    - Sneaking - Level 25.75


    - Weapon Mastery - Level 27.40

 Chapter 167 - Forgotten Blood

    Chapter 167 - Forgotten Blood


    Boris¡¯ body went through a series of seemingly impossible contortions as the very core of his being was altered and rebuilt. No one knew what shape he would take¡ªeven the ikarett himself was blind to the end result. Because there were no divines to aid him.


    He was just another one of the thousands of monsters that his dungeon spat out every morning; his life was only expected to last as long as it took for him to come across a party of adventurers, or perhaps two if he was fortunate enough to catch his first group off guard. There was no time for him to dedicate himself to any sort of creed, nor any reason for him to swear his allegiance to any of the pantheon¡¯s members. And while he was certainly an abnormal variant, he was by no means peculiar enough to draw the eyes of the busy deities above. So the system took over, as it did for most.


    It imprinted in his mind a base level of knowledge and provided a brief explanation of the choices laid out before him. But while he was aware of the powers associated with each, he was given no preview of his form. And in his mind, that was not a problem. Like most other monsters, he saw his body as just another tool; he lacked the sense of aesthetic with which his master was obsessed.


    The choice he made was the one that had pertained best to the circumstances at hand. He had never expected to be tamed or used as a weapon, but life had decided his lot and he saw no reason to resist or complain. He was confident that sticking with his new master provided him with the best chance at survival and further ascension. That was why he doubled down on his path and selected the only race that would serve his new purpose.


    In doing so, the ikarett saw himself completely remade. His size was unchanged by the transformation, but his body grew sharper and more geometric. His tail lost the many spines that ran along its edge, so that it was better used as a handle, his skull thickened to make it less susceptible to trauma, and teeth grew from places where they shouldn¡¯t. Like the top of his head. The most notable addition was the large metal sail sprouting from his back. At a glance, it made him appear unwieldy¡ªit was more than three times his height, but it soon folded back into his flesh and vanished. Like many of the new structures built in and out of his body, it was meant to be used only in battle.


    Officially, his race was dubbed Ikarett Type Arms. His rank was unique, and his title The Wrong Type of Living Weapon. He was confident that he had become better suited to his master¡¯s purposes. When he opened his eyes, following the processes¡¯ completion, he expected to be praised, or perhaps even scratched like his master¡¯s hat, but he was met instead with a suspicious glare.


    He was so confused by the unexpected circumstances that he froze and stood stock still, as any lizard in his scales would.


    ¡°What are you doing, Claire?¡± asked Lia. The catgirl was seated atop a nearby rock, mending her damaged outerwear with a needle and a spool of thread. The outfit¡¯s right side was still almost perfectly intact, but its other half was marred with cuts, evidence that she had decided to take the monster¡¯s attacks head on.


    ¡°Being cautious,¡± replied the halfbreed. ¡°The log said his behaviour might change.¡±


    Smiling awkwardly, the catgirl set down her jacket, walked over to the lizard, and crouched down next to him. ¡°He still seems harmless to me. Boris is a good boy. Right, Boris?¡±


    The weapon started bobbing his head after taking a moment to process the Marish into a series of lizard-thoughts. Each nod came with an increase in both his speed and his vigour, as if to insist that the catgirl was completely and entirely correct.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that log¡¯s only there ¡®cause sometimes the monsters you tame can turn into completely different monsters,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And that kinda makes them like different food and stuff.¡±


    ¡°...Oh.¡± Averting her eyes, Claire took her hands off her weapons, sat down, and breathed a tired sigh.


    Like the events that had come before it, the ikarett steelclaw¡¯s ascension had only served to compound her frustration. His body language had been submissive, and his eyes had been devoid of even the slightest hint of aggression. She should have been able to read him with a single look, but she failed to discern his intentions. Just as how she had failed to guide the battle to its rightful conclusion.


    Her decisions had been rushed, spurred on by pride and misplaced by haste. Only in looking back did she realise that there was no need for them to prevent the monster¡¯s revival. She very well could have used it as a stepping stone; killing it just one more time would have provided her with all the experience she needed to reach level 250.


    The decision she made instead would only have ended poorly if not for a stroke of dumb luck. Farenlight would have butchered her the moment it gained the ability to move. Worse yet, she had attempted to murder the hydra without first considering the method of its demise.


    There was no reason to assume that she could hurt it; it had already proven that her attacks lacked the power to circumvent its defenses. At the very least, she should have spent her ability points before running in. Putting them all into strength or wisdom would likely have given her the edge she needed. And that too stemmed from another bad habit, albeit one she had no intention of remedying. The fewer points she spent, the higher the risk, and the faster she would grow.


    ¡°Alright, Boris, want a treat? Then roll over!¡±


    Claire was the only member of the group so fixated on her failures. Lia and Boris had already started to play around, with the cat offering pieces of meat and the lizard behaving like a misshapen dog. Sylvia, however, remained by her side. The fox had taken her usual position on top of her head and displaced the angry ghost of Farenlight past. Though no words were exchanged between them, the half-fairy seemed to know exactly what weighed down on the lyrkress¡¯ mind. She was actively rubbing her cheeks against the larger halfbreed¡¯s hair, instead of just lazing around as usual.


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    ¡°I¡¯ll do better next time,¡± mumbled the moose.


    ¡°Mhm! I know you will.¡±


    Claire grabbed the fuzzy critter off her head and silently pulled her into an embrace. Still saying nothing, she started running her hands through her fur, petting and patting until the frustration started to fade. The moment of silence continued until the centaur finally decided to get to her feet. Setting the fox down, she walked over to the two idiots playing around with Farenlight¡¯s flesh and poked the less metallic fool in the face with her tail.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go. Back into the dungeon.¡±


    ¡°Back into the dungeon?¡± said Natalya, with an awkward smile. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure that¡¯s the best idea.¡± She set Boris¡¯ front limbs back down on the ground and craned her neck towards the outpost.


    Following the catgirl¡¯s eyes, Claire cast her usual cold gaze on the half-destroyed town. The inn that they had stayed at, during their first night, had turned into a pile of rubble. Many of the other buildings had followed the same fate. The streets were lined with corpses, belonging both to the many monsters that had fallen in battle and the brave souls that had confronted them.


    The tiny dungeon village was done for. There was not enough of it left to justify the insanity that was its rebuilding. A fresh start had been off the cards since the first monster ventured out from within the well; the core premise that the settlement was built on was already proven an assumption backed only by hubris.


    In the following days, there was sure to be an exodus. Its inhabitants would leave, and many of the adventurers were sure to go with them. But Claire did not want to be one of them. Her next ascension was right around the corner. It was so close she could feel it on the tips of her fingers.


    ¡°I only need a few more levels to ascend. And I want to test him.¡±


    She grabbed the tip of Boris¡¯ tail and lifted him into the air. His body responded to her touch, with his limbs almost seeming to vanish as they retracted back into his sides. They fit the engraved slots so perfectly that she found it impossible to pinpoint them; she would never have been able to guess that they had even existed, had she not watched him transform. His face was also gone. All the orifices had closed themselves shut as he took on a form better suited to her abuse.


    He had clearly become a sort of living weapon, albeit one completely unlike any of the others that the term so often suggested. Typically, intelligent weapons were meant to be blades with souls dwelling inside them, items blessed by the gods or painstakingly forged by master smiths. There was little sense to be made of the opposite process, and the lizard mastery requisite for his use was not the sort of skill that happened to exist.


    Glancing at the town again, Lia took a breath and brushed her hair out of her face. ¡°We¡¯ve already killed all the monsters here. I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll get much experience from them anymore.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the only place with high level monsters.¡±


    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be.¡± Lia retrieved their map and began looking it over. She quickly scanned the various dungeons and cross-referenced them with the book she always kept on her person. ¡°One second¡­¡±


    In the meantime, Claire wandered around and sorted through Headhydra¡¯s remains. Most of the stray scraps had already vanished down Boris¡¯ throat. The only parts that looked like they could be repurposed were the monster¡¯s heads. Each was topped with a trio of crystalline horns, lustrous as jewels and sharp as daggers.


    They were perfect.


    The light blue hue was a one to one match for her own aesthetic. They were durable enough to last her through a tough battle and just the right size to be hidden on her person.


    Or at least they would have been perfect, had she been able to remove them. They were stuck to the dead ikarett¡¯s head, and her shard was the only thing that could get past its scales. She could have easily trimmed them had she any divinity remaining, but the lackluster length of her own crystalline appendage made it impossible for her to detach the horns without stabbing herself in the chest.


    ¡°There are quite a few decent dungeons, but we¡¯ll have to move towards Vel¡¯khagan.¡± The cat interrupted Claire¡¯s thoughts by raising the map to her face. ¡°These three are all restricted access,¡± she pointed at a small cluster of symbols, ¡°but if you don¡¯t mind waiting a tiny bit longer, we can go even further east and explore one of the more famous underwater ones.¡± Her hand slid across the map and fell on another similarly shaped gate. Unlike all the others, which were coloured in various shades of orange, the symbol just off the coast was marked with a bright, eye-catching red.


    ¡°How far is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be about a week on foot, but we should be able to cut that down to two or three days if we stop by Vel¡¯dimure,¡± said the cat. ¡°We¡¯ll just have to buy a few tickets and get on the turberus express.¡±


    Because turberi were so docile, it was rare for them to ascend, but those that did would grow to fifty times their previous size and sprout large wings from their shelled backs. Though too slow to be used in times of war, the massive flying vegetarians made for excellent air transport.


    ¡°Three days?¡± Claire opened up her quest menu, eyed the most important entry, and confirmed that she would have to wait another 77 hours regardless. The timing would line up perfectly if they flew to Vel¡¯khagan; she would be allowed to ascend soon after they arrived. ¡°Fine.¡±


    Taking the map out of the cat¡¯s hands, the lyrkress traced her finger between their location and their destination before looking straight up through the broken canopy. The rainclouds she had grabbed had already run out of excess moisture, but the wind was too gentle to see them blown away.


    ¡°But we won¡¯t need tickets.¡± A small smile spread its way across Claire¡¯s lips.


    Lia gulped. ¡°Why do I have a bad feeling about this?¡±


    ¡°No reason.¡±


    ¡°S-Sylvia? B-Boris? G-guys? Am I the only one that thinks that she¡¯s up to no good?¡± She tried to slink away when the lyrkress stepped forward, but her back was against a tree and none of the supposed friends she called on came to her aid. The fox was rolling around on the ground, laughing her heart out, whilst the lizard kept his gaze averted. He had outright abandoned her, even though she had fed him a dozen treats just a few minutes prior.


    Lia scrambled onto all fours and tried to make a hasty retreat, but her body stopped listening to her before she could escape. The cat was frozen in place and completely exposed. She could do nothing as she was lifted like a sack of potatoes and taken up into the air.


    Her stomach lurched as the ground shrunk at an alarming rate. The dirt gave way to a canopy, which was quickly replaced in turn by a layer of dark clouds. Only then did she finally regain control of her limbs. Struggling a little too hard, she accidentally broke free from Claire¡¯s grasp, and discovered the wonder that was a fear of heights.

 Chapter 168 - Forgotten Blood II

    Chapter 168 - Forgotten Blood II


    With a small smile on her lips and a terrified catgirl imprisoned in the bubble floating nearby, Claire fell through the sky with her arms spread wide and her tail dangling behind her. It was her first real post-Llystletein flight, her first chance to gaze upon a familiar canvas. No longer was she stuck looking over a marshy meadow forest or a boring tropical archipelago. She could finally see the world again, as she so often did, from her favourite spot atop the manor¡¯s roof.


    Because all the clouds were stuck hovering over the ocean, she had no trouble scanning the continent for familiar sights. The Ryllian sea was to the east, the Langgbjerns were to the north, and the great rainforest of Tal¡¯ihir, the seemingly infinite expanse of green that covered everything in every other direction. The further up she fell, the clearer the world became. The woodland¡¯s northern edge was eventually made distinct from the foot of the mountains. She could see the golden great plains, the grasslands that had once served as her home.


    Though the land surrounding it was visible, Cadria was nothing but a distant speck on the horizon. It was impossible to tell where it started and ended. From so high up, it was another insignificant series of settlements. There were no borders carved into the world itself, and the only landmarks of note were the faraway mountains. But that was enough for her to at least estimate its location. The distant colours at the feet of the Langgbjerns could not have been ruled by any but her great uncle. Because there were no others willing to build their kingdoms so close to the forbidden mountains.


    Though she had certainly spent a long time looking over the continent, it failed to monopolize her attention. When she gazed towards the sea and looked upon the many clouds hanging above it, she found her attention captured by a fortress made of fluffy white defenses. The spiraling formation lay far beyond the city sprawled out in front of her, its faraway distance only exemplified by the giant winged turtles fluttering through the sky.


    The three-headed reptiles were not the only creatures with which they shared the heavens. Flying below them were all manner of creatures, from sea birds to jellyfish, and mermaids to vine monsters. There were even a few winged centaurs plodding through the air. Potential threats, spies sent by her father.


    Though Natalya was not a fan of the skyborne experience, it was greatly enjoyed by all the others. Everyone had some degree of control over their direction. Sylvia was zipping back and forth like the excited puppy she was, and even Boris somehow managed to keep himself afloat. By spreading his sail wide, he was able to glide through the air and ride the various currents up and down. Though he was the slowest flier, he was not falling far behind. The other two were fooling around, engaging in a game of tag, and they would magically pull him closer whenever he drifted too far away. The very same treatment given to the bubble that contained the uncomfortable feline.


    ¡°Can we please just land?¡± Though she was undoubtedly a cat, the beast girl¡¯s voice had taken on a number of mouse-like qualities; it was impossible for her to speak without the words coming out as a squeak.


    It was already her third time making the very same request. They had been in the air for a day and a half, soaring above the forest and the various obstacles within it. Most of their time was spent fooling around and frolicing about, but they were so much faster than Natalya¡¯s testudine benchmarks that they reached Vel¡¯khagan regardless.


    ¡°Five more minutes,¡± said Claire.


    She was tempted to follow through on the claim and stall just a little longer, but started to descend after noting the colour of Natalya¡¯s face. She was as pale as a sheet. It had been a few hours since they last touched the ground, and she was reaching the limits of her tolerance.


    ¡°Awww, are we heading back down already?¡± said Sylvia, with a pout. Taking to the skies had granted the fox the opportunity to see just how vast Mara was, and she had spent the better part of the previous day asking about every landmark she happened to spot. Natalya wound up doing most of the explaining. The constant talking was one of the few things that had helped her ease her discomfort.


    ¡°For now.¡±


    Resetting the look on her face, she dove through a crowd of skyscyphs and looked for a place to hit the ground. The roads just outside the city were too cluttered for her to suddenly appear without startling a group of work animals and causing a stampede, so she chose a spot in the forest, a little further away from any major pathways.


    Focusing on the forces around her, she landed softly. The only sound that could be heard, as she closed the distance between her hooves and the soil, was the crinkling of the undergrowth.


    ¡°Finally!¡± Lia fell forward as soon as she hit the ground, pressing her hands and knees against it. She dropped the large leather bag she was carrying, lowered her face to the dirt, and rubbed it against the forest floor.


    Within the bag were the spoils from their most recent battles, the various monster parts that they had taken, both from Farenlight and the klimgor variants. Natalya lay alongside the container for a few moments before straightening her back and sitting up. Crossing her legs was all it took for her to clear her mind. Though Claire refused to admit it, the catgirl was well disciplined for someone so honest with her desires. She was able to correct her heart¡¯s rapid beating with just the sheer force of her will.


    ¡°I feel a little better now. I think I can handle another brief flight or two, but I¡¯d rather finish the last leg of the journey on foot. If you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ The path looked kinda crowded when we checked earlier, but I think it should be fine,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°We¡¯ve had our fun already and it looks like we¡¯ll probably have to go through a checkpoint anyway, ¡®cause of that big barrier ¡®n stuff.¡±


    The defensive structure that the fox described was the city¡¯s primary means of defense. Because half the settlement was located beneath the waves, walls alone would not have been able to keep Vel¡¯khagan safe from monsters and invaders. The capital, like most of the other underwater cities, was guarded instead by a sort of magical device, a powerful artifact designed by Canterbell, the very same master artificer that had created Cadria¡¯s floating castles.


    The flexibility built into the barrier generator¡¯s dimensions was demonstrated in the city¡¯s shape. The urban area almost seemed to sprawl along the coastline, a few bits and pieces poking into the jungle. There were a variety of different residential districts, with options available for creatures that preferred different biomes, but none of the real estate was as prime as that atop which the castle sat.


    Located right where the land met the sea, the massive stone construct was at least a kilometer in each direction. Its giant bricks were cut and stacked so perfectly that it was impossible for any water to leak in or out of the half-submerged fortress. It was an engineering marvel, truly a home fit for a king, or in Vel¡¯khan¡¯s case, a queen.


    The sole thrice ascended matriarch was one of the region¡¯s most well-regarded figures. She was known for stepping into the forefront and pitching radical ideas whenever they happened to be required. Having disposed of all the older members of her family, she saw little value in tradition and often declared that the people were meant to change with the times.


    It was a motto that rang true through the hearts of many a youthful commoner, but while her species was one that lived only three dozen years at most, the queen had reigned for over fifty years. Her ascensions had allowed her to become the kingdom¡¯s longest reigning monarch.


    That was all Claire knew about the country¡¯s ruler. Vel¡¯khan was too far from Cadria for any meaningful rumours to have crossed all the borders between them. There was no information about her personality, only her preferred policies and the parts of her history made public.


    ¡°Let¡¯s be quick,¡± said Claire. ¡°We can still make it into the dungeon by nightfall.¡±


    Lia twisted her lips into a strained smile. ¡°I know you really want those last few levels, but I think it¡¯ll be best if we wait until tomorrow morning.¡±


    The dungeon that they had in mind was The Swirling Abyss, home of the leviathan, and a place so famous that even Sylvia was aware of it. Its entrance was in the ocean, about an hour away from the city by air or water. For most settlements, it would have been considered too close, but the capital was home to the royal guard. The country¡¯s most powerful military force kept a careful watch over its entrance and acted whenever it was necessary. There were few details regarding the force¡¯s true power, but its Cadrian equivalent would have had no trouble with a Headhydra-level threat. Many of their members were known for venturing into the Langgbjerns alone and hunting legendary monsters in their spare time.


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    ¡°I don¡¯t want to wait,¡± said Claire. The lyrkress was ready to jump into the abyss and go through all the same motions as her father¡¯s handpicked, but the rest of her business had her by the reins. Most important on her list was visiting a pair of temples, one to complete Alfred¡¯s request, and another to make the insufferable thunder god pay his due. Farenlight¡¯s horns matched all the required specifications. They were eye-catching, made of some sort of mineral, and easily enchanted to suit all the temple¡¯s needs. She wanted to keep them all for herself, but a blessing was worth more than a piece of equipment that she had nine of.


    Lia had confiscated three of the six severed heads. They were set aside as merchandise, parts to be sold to fund the party¡¯s operations. Farenlight¡¯s scales were given the same treatment; all of its remaining body parts had been skinned and prepared for sale. The flesh and bones were too hefty to be given the same priority, so the meat was used as lizard feed, and most of the osseous matter thrown away. Claire had only kept two of its skulls, both of which she had repurposed as gauntlets.


    ¡°I think we might have to. I¡¯m not sure if my contact is in today,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have to do anything,¡± muttered Claire.


    ¡°Well we should,¡± retorted the cat. ¡°It really doesn¡¯t make any sense for us to be carrying this around for any longer than we have to. Just think about how much money we¡¯d lose if it was stolen!¡±


    The lyrkress averted her eyes and followed Natalya towards the main road. She didn¡¯t have a point to argue, especially not after pawning off the duty of maintaining their finances.


    Lia¡¯s haste was not unreasonable. Each of Farenlight¡¯s horns was effectively a jewel, and not even members of the nobility would needlessly carry a store of precious stones with them whilst they went around their regular business.


    Adding further to their value was their rarity. Monsters like Farenlight almost never made it to market. Her level was not by any means particularly outstanding. Most renowned hunters were capable of taking down creatures in a similar range, but a mere five hundred levels did not a legendary monster make.


    Those with the designation were far more valuable, both because they were more threatening, and because their bodies were more refined. But while Headhydra¡¯s parts were certainly lucrative, their price tags came with their own fair share of problems. Few were aware of the full extent of their value, and it was commonplace for such items to go underappreciated at an ordinary shop or public auction. Outside of the few events where such goods were gathered to be marketed in bulk, the final sale was often a lengthy process that involved visiting the wealthy directly. Members of the nobility were the most frequent customers. Most wished to arm their knights in the best equipment available, both to correctly equip their guard, and to brag to their peers.


    That was precisely why Augustus Manor saw so many visitors. The greedy racoons that were the nation¡¯s merchants were constantly peddling their wares, seeking either connections or the best deals. Of course, it was not possible for the average retailer to enter a noble¡¯s manor simply because they claimed that they had the finest raw materials. Only those with established brands and reputations were allowed to do business with the upper crust. As a pair of unknown adventurers, Claire and Lia would be outright rejected. They would have to settle for selling their goods to middlemen, and that was where Lia¡¯s contact was factored into the equation.


    With the catgirl at the helm, the group moved through the gate and navigated the city¡¯s busy streets. Though they were both a part of the same small country, Vel¡¯rulm and Vel¡¯khagan were architecturally distinct, the difference appearing to stem from demographics. While the border city¡¯s inhabitants were comfortable living their lives on land, many of the capital¡¯s were adapted to functioning only within the water. That was why half the streets were not paved roads, but canals. The water-filled pathways were three times as deep as the lyrkress was tall and wide enough for a whale. Many of the buildings were similarly adapted; they had waterways running up their sides and floors that were kept at least partially submerged. Some of the larger structures, especially those made mostly of glass, were completely devoid of dry interiors altogether. Only their roofs supported those unable to breathe beneath the waves.


    The building that Natalya stopped in front of was one of the rare opposites. It was built almost entirely of stone and had no glass panes to keep any water contained.


    ¡°Good afternoon ladies. How can I help you today?¡±


    They were greeted by a large beetle as soon as they stepped through the door. Though Claire knew little about the creature¡¯s species, she could tell that he was wealthy. The suit that adorned his frame was made of an incredibly high quality silk, soft enough to be felt with the eyes. Its perfectly blanched exterior was decorated from head to toe in beautiful floral patterns of all different shapes and colours. The merchant that owned the establishment was well aware of the methods required to flaunt his wealth, especially to those that knew how to look.


    ¡°Good afternoon¡­¡± Natalya¡¯s eyes fell on the nametag sitting on the receptionist¡¯s chest. ¡°Ktktart. Is Olga in today?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± The beetle clicked his manadibles and nodded his head. ¡°Right this way.¡±


    Another butler, a slightly smaller beetle, took Ktktart¡¯s spot by the door as he stepped forward and showed the guests through the storefront. He made sure to walk by a number of impressive display cases before finally taking them up the stairs and stopping roughly halfway down the hall. Some contained jewels, but most were filled with taxidermied monsters, species famous for their power.


    They were greeted by a croaky, ¡°Come in!¡± before the clerk even knocked on the door. When they stepped through, they found an old huksari woman awaiting them on the other side. She wore a beautiful dress rimmed with gold and silver, an even more impressive display than the floral prints that decorated her servant.


    The dog¡¯s eyes narrowed for a moment, as she scanned her guests, but they brightened up as soon as she finished going from left to right. ¡°Natalya! How wonderful it is to see you again.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you too, Auntie Olga,¡± said the catgirl.


    ¡°Don¡¯t just stand there, come in, come in!¡± said Olga. ¡°How¡¯s that damned Belyaev idiot doing these days?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s just as old and cranky as always, of course.¡± Smiling awkwardly, the cat walked across the room and sat down on one of the fancy leather sofas, with her two companions following behind her.


    ¡°Of course he is,¡± huffed the old lady. ¡°Just one rejection and he¡¯s like that for decades. I would have expected a man like him to show a little more backbone.¡±


    Natalya giggled and shook her head. ¡°The only time he¡¯s ever got any of that is when he has a sword in hand.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s why he¡¯s so lonely now.¡± Olga shook her head, stood up from her desk, and made her way to the opposite couch. ¡°And who might these two be?¡±


    ¡°Hi! I¡¯m Sylvia Redleaf, Ll-er, fox,¡± said the furball.


    ¡°Nice to meet you, Sylvia. I¡¯m Olga Popov, huskari goldsniffer.¡± The merchant smiled at the fox before looking at the last of the trio¡¯s members.


    ¡°Good evening, Madame Popov. I am Claire, frostblight lyrkress. It pleases me greatly to be in the presence of a lady with tastes as refined as your own.¡± The half-lamia rose to her feet and curtsied, as she had whenever she was forced to greet one of her father¡¯s guests. But while the motion was frivolous and excessive, the compliment was genuine. It was rare, even for the merchants that visited the manor, to have such an understanding of fashion.


    ¡°The pleasure is mine,¡± said Olga. She returned the gesture with one of her own. Bending her knees, she lifted the hem of her skirt and proved her mastery of etiquette.


    Both took their seats and smiled as Ktktart excused himself from the room and closed the door behind him. Only when it was firmly shut, and the outside world¡¯s sounds cut off, did the aged huskar finally begin to speak.


    ¡°So what brings you here today, Natalya? Was it just to introduce us?¡±


    ¡°I guess that was a part of it too.¡± The cat flashed a strained smile. ¡°Claire and I started working together recently. We killed a legendary monster just the other day, and I was hoping that you would be willing to help us sell its parts.¡±


    ¡°Of course, dearie.¡± The huskar leaned forward and put her hands together, a small smile on her lips. ¡°Could I see them?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± Lia emptied the contents of a leather sack onto the table. ¡°It was a primal ikarett matriarch, level 500 exactly, and I suspect that it might have achieved legendary status right before we killed it.¡±


    ¡°Primal ikarett matriarch? That¡¯s a new one¡­¡± The first material that the dog examined was not a sparkling crystalline horn, but rather one of the metal pelts. ¡°How intriguing. The inside is soft, but the outside is extremely tough. This would make for some very high quality armour. It¡¯s a shame that the bottoms are frayed and that it has so many holes, but I suspect that there wasn¡¯t much you could have done about that.¡±


    Lia shook her head. ¡°The only parts we were able to retrieve were its heads.¡±


    ¡°It must have been quite the grueling battle then,¡± said the huskar. ¡°I do think that these will sell and rather quickly at that. We could have each processed into its own piece, or maybe patch together something larger¡­ There are quite a few possibilities, but it¡¯s difficult to say which has the most value. It depends if Sir Farfran is still looking to arm his troops.¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯ll want to process them individually. The heads might have a lot of holes, but the rest is largely unblemished. You might be able t¡­¡±


    Claire closed her eyes and pressed her ears against the side of her head. The discussions reminded her too much of all the others she had to sit through in the past. Her mind was already starting to wander off, with its destination set as the land of dreams, a faraway realm with no lectures, negotiations, or other needless details to be explored.

 Chapter 169 - Forgotten Blood III

    Chapter 169 - Forgotten Blood III


    The combination of a gentle shaking and a distant, familiar voice roused Claire from her slumber. Stifling a yawn, she slowly opened her eyes to find a familiar face right up in her own. The foal holding her by the shoulders had her cheeks puffed up and her lips twisted into an obvious pout. Truly, the sort of temper tantrum that only a fourteen year old girl could throw.


    ¡°Come on, Claire! Stop zoning out! It¡¯s your turn.¡±


    The red-headed deerling pointed to the board placed in front of her, a small map of a fictitious region, with tiny toy soldiers spread all across it. The red minions were clearly at an advantage. Their blue counterparts were trapped in an encirclement with all their commanders already slain. It was a game of Conquest, one of the familiar pastimes that the two had so often shared.


    ¡°I know,¡± said Claire. ¡°But I can¡¯t move my pieces. Unless you release me.¡±


    She was expecting the younger moose to let go and return to her seat, like always, but the foal opened her eyes wide instead.


    ¡°What?¡± asked the lyrkress.


    Her lips trembling and her eyes tearing up, Alice wrapped her arms around the older girl¡¯s back and dove headfirst into her perfectly flat chest. The tackling headbutt of a hug came with a squeeze tight enough to hurt. Strange was the inconsistency, given that Alice was only level 27, but such was how the land of dreams worked. Nothing was supposed to make sense.


    ¡°I-I can¡¯t believe it,¡± cried the redhead. ¡°You can talk again! It¡¯s a miracle!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why that¡¯s such a big deal,¡± said Claire.


    Her words failed to reach the other noble lady; the pureblood was already bawling her eyes out, a commotion impossible to be missed. The door burst open just a few seconds after the younger lady raised her voice and revealed a fully armed guard, spear drawn and shieldlance at the ready. Scanning the room three times, with each check lasting longer than the last, he slowly lowered both his weapons and breathed a small sigh.


    ¡°Excuse the interruption, ladies.¡±


    Bowing his head, he stepped out of the room and began closing the door behind him. But not before he found himself exchanging glances with the house¡¯s heir. For just a moment, he was frozen in his tracks, and not because his mind had come to a standstill. Alarm bells rang through his head. It was almost like his body had been seized, albeit only for the briefest of moments.


    ¡°Don¡¯t interrupt next time. Durham.¡±


    Claire giggled internally as she watched him squirm. It was the exact same reaction he would have given, had they been conversing outside a dream. She had every intention of opening her mouth again and wounding his pride with an insult, but her head started to spin before she could. Someone was shaking her, someone other than the tear-ridden cervitaur.


    The world shifted when she next blinked, back into the room that she had fallen asleep in, where she found herself greeted by a set of awfully familiar circumstances. Someone was moving her shoulders back and forth, their face too close for comfort.


    ¡°I¡¯m awake.¡± Because Lia was not nearly as delicate as her cousin, Claire did not hesitate to grab her by the forehead and push her to a more acceptable distance.


    ¡°Good morning, Sleepyhead!¡± Sylvia popped up from behind the catgirl¡¯s head, her paws suppressing a giggle. ¡°Have a nice nap?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Claire quickly glanced around the room and found that everyone was still present. The shadows were all in roughly the same positions, and she could still see the sun poking through the window. Very little time had passed, since she decided to doze off. ¡°Have you finished with your negotiations?¡±


    ¡°Just now,¡± said Lia, with a smile. She almost didn¡¯t seem to mind the claw grip that kept her face exactly one arm¡¯s length away.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s go.¡± Claire got to her feet and gave the huskar another curtsy. ¡°Thank you very much for having us, Madame Popov. I do apologize for the unsightly display. I am not quite sure what came over me.¡±


    ¡°Not to worry, dear,¡± chortled the old lady. ¡°It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope that next time, we may be able to chat a little bit longer. I would love to hear tales of your adventures.¡±


    ¡°Gladly.¡±


    Claire spun around and saw herself out the door, with the other two bidding their respective farewells and following soon after.


    ¡°Does she always act completely differently in front of other people?¡± Lia whispered the question to the fox plodding along beside her.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ not always.¡± Their words failed to escape the lyrkress¡¯ ears, but she tactfully kept her mouth shut and her eyes forward. ¡°I think it depends on how much she¡¯s letting down her guard,¡± continued the fox.


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± A smile crossed Lia¡¯s lips. Speeding up, she passed the lyrkress and spun around. ¡°Hey Claire?¡± There was a happy, almost brilliant smile on the cat¡¯s face.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Do you trust me?¡± The question was followed by a swish of the tail and a twitch of the ears. She leaned forward, into the lyrkress¡¯ personal space again, and gave her the most expectant of looks. It was clear that she had her own thoughts on the matter, and that she was only seeking to affirm them.


    ¡°No.¡± But Claire, of course, was unwilling to provide the feline with even a sliver of satisfaction.


    Smirking internally at the other girl¡¯s disbelief, she magically moved the frozen cat out of her way, set her down next to a potted plant, and continued down the stairs. A quick look around the floor reminded her that it was filled with high rollers aplenty, but she ignored them all and beelined for the exit. There was no time to waste. She had temples to visit and only a few scant hours before Natalya would arbitrarily decide that it was too late to go spelunking.


    But as hurried as she was, she found herself stopping as she noted the next guest to enter the building. The person that Ktktart greeted was a sea creature with an awfully familiar set of pink scales. She was moving not with any legs, but rather a strange three-wheeled vehicle with a pedal-like mechanism powered by her tail and a leather strap that kept the lower half of her body off the ground.


    ¡°Hello.¡± She approached the mermaid as soon as she was cleared to enter the store, and greeted her with a tilt of the head.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s the person who sold us our map! Hi!¡± said Sylvia.


    The half-fish was not as quick to recognize the customer. She had to stare for a good few seconds before clapping her hands in realisation.


    ¡°Oh, hello! You¡¯re the pair that accidentally ventured into the adu¡ª¡±


    A hand clamped her jaw shut. Claire grabbed the mermaid by the face, just as she had during their previous encounter and narrowed her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t say it.¡±


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Right. I guess that wouldn¡¯t be the best idea.¡± Smiling sheepishly, the fish tried to remove the lyrkress¡¯ hand, but to no avail. ¡°Could you please let go of me? I like my skull better when it isn¡¯t dented by a violent adventurer with ears too sharp for her own good.¡±


    ¡°...Fine.¡± Claire released the saleslady and crossed her arms. ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    ¡°Funny you should ask.¡± She took a few moments to check the side of her head for dents before reaching into her bag and retrieving a hexagonal stone. ¡°Because I happen to be peddling something you might be interested in.¡± The runic device was small enough to fit perfectly in the palm of the mermaid¡¯s hand.


    ¡°What is it?¡± asked the lyrkress. It was clearly enchanted, but she knew too little about the runic letters to decipher the object¡¯s purpose.


    ¡°It¡¯s one of Canterbell¡¯s latest inventions, an artifact that can store books and reproduce them as magical projections,¡± said the mermaid, proudly.


    ¡°Wait, really? So doesn¡¯t that mean it¡¯s basically just a library?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Not exactly, but you could technically use it to make one,¡± said the bookseller.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why I would be interested,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°It happens to contain all of the erotic fiction in my sho¡ª¡±


    A glare cut the fish short. ¡°I¡¯m leaving. Goodbye.¡± She was tempted to grab the mermaid by the face, again, but Ktktart¡¯s eyes were already on her, so she turned around and walked out the door.


    ¡°Bye! See ya later!¡± Sylvia stood up on her hind legs and waved before scampering up the length of her mount¡¯s body and taking her usual seat.


    It was not until they stepped out of the store that Claire finally stopped and looked behind her. ¡°Where¡¯s the cat?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ dunno, but I can find out, if you want.¡±


    ¡°Do it.¡±


    ¡°Okay! Let¡¯s see¡­¡± Sylvia hummed up a small bubble more reflective than the usual fare. ¡°It looks like she¡¯s coming down the stairs now, but she¡¯s still sulking. Oh! She started taking deep breaths and trying to make herself look normal because she¡¯s about to get to the bottom. And now she¡¯s walking over but her face is turning red and she looks kinda mad.¡±


    ¡°Sylvia! Stop! Please! ¡± shouted the indignant cat.


    ¡°H-huh? Stop what?¡± blinked the fox.


    ¡°Stop watching me! And stop telling the whole world exactly what I¡¯m doing!¡± she pointed into the shop, at the receptionists that were listening in, and the other guests, many of whom happened to be doing the same. Their voices were still silent, but they were all looking at the fox¡¯s victim as one would an object of interest.


    ¡°Oh¡­ oops.¡± The Llystletein native clamped her paws over her mouth and further obscured it with her tail for good measure.


    ¡°It¡¯s too late now!¡± squeaked Lia. ¡°Everyone already knows!¡±


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ sorry. I¡¯ll try not to do that next time.¡±


    ¡°You better not,¡± huffed the catgirl. ¡°I swear! Both of you ar¡ª¡±


    ¡°Talk while we walk.¡± Claire tail-grabbed the cat by the shoulders and forcibly relocated her, so she was at the group¡¯s front.


    ¡°Okay, okay, I will!¡± grumbled the cat. ¡°Stop shoving me already!¡±


    Still somewhat miffed, Natalya led the party down a series of streets. The quality of the buildings rose with each turn. They were clearly headed somewhere high class. But knowing that was not what fed Claire¡¯s unease. The lyrkress was bothered instead by the strange fiery sensation burning through her chest. Her divinity was surging, reacting to the holy domains nearby. Counting them was beyond her, with the fire expanding through to her mind, but she could tell that they were clustered in close proximity, fighting one another for dominance and control.


    Some of them were so powerful that they made her head spin, but she clenched her teeth and kept walking. Neither of the others appeared to be bothered. Lia was perfectly calm, and Sylvia was humming one of her usual tunes.


    Log Entry 6019


    You have been connected to World Chat.


    A small frown crossed her lips as Flux¡¯s voice suddenly rang through her head. She only vaguely recalled the previous incident. Because it was just a strange, one-off occurrence, she had thought too little of it to find herself concerned, but seeing the strange interface again had compounded her uncertainty.


    Alfred: Hey! Look who¡¯s back.


    (Whisper) Flux: Hi :)


    Dorr: Isn¡¯t she the one that got d/ced after like 10s?


    Alfred: Yup. It¡¯ll probably happen again. She doesn¡¯t have much divinity.


    Dorr: Then why¡¯s she connecting to WC? Can¡¯t talk to no one with the chat going. Not that I¡¯m helping.


    Alfred: Don¡¯t ask me.


    Severantus: Damn it, Alfred. I bet this is all your fault again.


    Flux: When is it not?


    Surely enough, she found herself bombarded by lines and lines of text over which she had very little control. There was no obvious way to make it go away, even though it was draining her divinity. She had been planning to hold onto all five points, just in case she needed to resist the gods she was to visit. No matter how scant and pitiful said resistance would be.


    Vella: I¡¯m pretty sure Alfred did it.


    (Whisper) Vella: Come to my temple. I¡¯ll give you a nice quest and a much better reward than any of the others.


    Alfred: Bullshit. You¡¯re just trying to pin it on me so it¡¯s not obvious that you¡¯re trying to go carpet munching again.


    Vella: I am NOT!


    Alfred: Like anyone would believe you.


    (Whisper) Alfred: Don¡¯t trust Vella. Her lock opens for any key.


    Dorr: Can you two get a room? I know neither of you have much to do, but we really don¡¯t need you polluting the chat again.


    (Whisper) Alfred: Oh and congratulations on meeting your first catgirl. I¡¯ve been keeping a careful eye on Natalya since she was young and I must say, sh¡ª


    Log Entry 6020


    You have been disconnected from World Chat. Incoming messages have been truncated. (Error Code: 18107. Insufficient Divinity.)


    It took only a few seconds for the last dredges of her divine power to drain. Worry was the first thing on her mind. She disliked being robbed of a resource, especially for no reason. But as concerned as she was, she quickly found that deprivation was not without its merits. The pulsing fire that had plagued her chest was gone; it no longer felt like the shard was at risk of suddenly bursting into a thousand pieces.


    ¡°Woah! Are all of those temples?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Every last one!¡± said a less sulky Natalya. ¡°Isn¡¯t this place just amazing?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, totally!¡±


    Claire¡¯s newfound relief was what allowed her to make the final turn and join the others on a long, wide street that ran all the way up a distant cliff. It was one of Vel¡¯khagan¡¯s most famous streets, lined on both sides with nothing but temples and churches. No two religious structures were even remotely similar. Each was constructed in a way that would please the corresponding divine; Builledracht¡¯s looked like a mass of shriveled vines, Vella¡¯s was made to resemble a large breast plate, and Xekkur¡¯s was the skull of a mighty beast unknown.


    Though it was not the closest, Tzaarkus¡¯ temple was the first that they visited. It sat atop a particularly elevated mound of soil, albeit not the one at the cliff¡¯s summit. The building¡¯s entrance was a long flight of stairs away, but otherwise remained just as plain and boring as its Vel¡¯rulmian equivalent. It was certainly among the shoddiest of the street¡¯s constructs, but its visitors and staff conducted themselves with pride nonetheless.


    ¡°Hi there! Welcome to the temple of thunder.¡± An over-enthused, middle-aged giant awaited them at the front desk. Even with his back hunched, he sat at a height of over five meters. His frame and bearded face were almost intimidating, but the effect was completely offset by his disproportionate glasses. The tiny frames sitting atop his nose were so small that they looked like they belonged to a human child.


    Reaching into her robe, Claire produced Farenlight¡¯s smallest horn and set it down on the counter. ¡°I was told that you needed a soundstone.¡±


    The already wide grin on the giant¡¯s face grew larger and more vibrant as he raised the tiny crystal to his face and examined it with one eye. ¡°What a wonderful stone! And with such good timing, traveler. Ours broke just the other day.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    Log Entry 6021


    You have completed ¡°Replace the Soundstone of Clarity.¡±


    You have been blessed by the God of Thunder. You have become more likely to be struck by lightning in the event of a storm. Electric-based attacks that target you are more accurate than usual.


    Claire turned around immediately and pulled her hood over her eyes. She could feel her brow twitching in much the same manner as her fingers.


    ¡°Thank you kindly for your donation!¡± shouted the giant. ¡°Is there anything that we might be able to do for you, young lady?¡± He got up from his chair and chased after her with his voice bellowing, but she dismissed him with a shake of the head.


    ¡°No. Nothing at all.¡±


    ¡°H-huh?¡± The catigrl she seized by the hand reacted with a blink. ¡°We¡¯re leaving already? Aren¡¯t we going to pray?¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°There¡¯s not enough time.¡±


    She was unwilling to offer the divine any sort of praise or worship. The obnoxious deity had given her not a blessing for her efforts, but another curse. She wanted to run a knife through the ungrateful prick¡¯s face, but he was a god, and she was not; any conflict between them was unlikely to end with a result in her favour.


    Vengeance would have to wait until she completed Flux¡¯s directive.

 Chapter 170 - Forgotten Blood IV

    Chapter 170 - Forgotten Blood IV


    Every one of the temples that lined the street had its own flair and identity, a reason to stand out from its peers. And yet, despite all the creativity and labour that went into each art piece, none could stand up to that of the goddess of order. Though certainly one of the most powerful and influential deities, Flitzegarde was given no special treatment. Her cathedral was not the one that lived at the street¡¯s far end. That honor belonged instead to the god of the inner flame, because it was one of his disciples that first cultivated the land. Like every other run of the mill church, it was placed along the side of the road, with a small lot just big enough to fit its building. And yet, it drew the eye with an unmistakable gravity; none that passed it by were able to ignore it, no matter how busy or zealous they were.


    The stones used in its construction were impossibly white. They were so clean and pristine that they almost seemed to shine, even though they were most certainly not reflective. Claire would have found it difficult to so much as look at the building, had the stained glass windows not broken up the pure whiteness. Each decorative piece featured an intricate relief of a beautiful woman that looked like a catgirl but wasn¡¯t. The lyrkress didn¡¯t know how she knew, but something inside of her was convinced that the two were distinct and not to be confused.


    Lowering her eyes, she gazed into the temple¡¯s open doors and found herself staring at what was effectively another world. Its guests were standing in perfect single-file lines. Each silently awaited their turn with a clipboard in one hand and a quill in the other. One of the staff members standing by the entryway sorted the guests based on their business; different groups were sent in different directions, with the contents of their forms the key deciding factor.


    Everything was so neat and perfect that Claire found herself bothered. There was an indescribable itch welling up within her, something that made her equal parts tired and annoyed. It was too excessive. She couldn¡¯t help but feel that there was something wrong with the goddess and her followers. It was like they had no will, like they had cast their own wants and desires aside in the pursuit of uniformity.


    ¡°How¡­ unsettling,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s kinda weird,¡± agreed Sylvia.


    ¡°Is it? It seems pretty normal to me,¡± said Natalya. ¡°I kind of like how they have all their ducks in a row.¡±


    The incorrect opinion was met with a pair stares, one judging, and the other somewhat confused.


    ¡°O-oh come on,¡± complained the cat. ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with a little order here and there.¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°There¡¯s everything wrong with it.¡±


    She had no intention of joining the hivemind, but there was no other way to access the temple. The goddess of order was a picky mistress, and her followers often rejected those that failed to conform. Entering the line was the only choice she had.


    A dozen eyes shot to her as soon as she stepped into the formation, their looks almost openly hostile. It wasn¡¯t until one of the priestesses intentionally cleared her throat that the lyrkress begrudgingly set her hooves shoulder-width apart and straightened her tail. A clipboard and a quill appeared in the space in front of her as soon as she adhered to the rules, their frames glowing softly with an obnoxious golden light.


    Lips twisting into a frown, she accepted the utensils and looked through the form. Filling in the first field, the size of her group, caused a strange distortion that twisted her senses out of place.


    Log Entry 6022


    Detect Force Magic has reached level 23.


    Sylvia and Natalya appeared right behind her. Even though she was the only one to have stepped forward.


    ¡°H-huh? W-what!?¡±


    The fox, who was immediately regarded with contempt, had been forced into her humanoid form. She was fully dressed, and not in the elven tunic that she had recently purchased. Her body was adorned instead in one of the robes that had vanished in the rubble, following Natalya¡¯s advent.


    Only after looking at the fox did Claire realise that she had gone through a similar change. Her hooves and tail were both gone; she was in her humanoid form and her cloak had been turned into a dress, the various goods in its pockets had transferred into her skirt. Even without the use of her eyes, she could tell that they had been rearranged. The nosy goddess, or perhaps one of the celestials in her service, had sorted all the items in the orders of form and function.


    ¡°Calm down, Sylvia,¡± whispered Lia. ¡°They don¡¯t like it when you cause a fuss.¡±


    ¡°But I was just a fox! What the heck happened!?¡±


    One of the many priests standing along the temple¡¯s walls approached the fox and bowed. ¡°Excuse me, dear guest. We would appreciate it if you could remain silent during the procession.¡±


    ¡°O-ohhh uhmmm¡­ right. Sorry.¡±


    Laughing awkwardly, Sylvia clamped a hand over her mouth and tried her best to stand still. She was awfully stiff, compared to all the others, and her less-than-ideal posture soon earned a number of angry glares, which of course only made her even stiffer in turn. As entertaining as Claire found the self-perpetuating cycle, she soon peeled her eyes off the panicked canid and returned to the clipboard at hand.


    Her mind almost seemed to dim as she wrote the word quest into the business field. When she opened her eyes again, she found herself standing in front of a desk, with neither the wooden tool nor the writing utensil anywhere to be seen.


    ¡°Thank you for waiting,¡± said an old, balding priest. ¡°I believe your business was related to a quest? We do not happen to have you on file. Could you please provide the issuer as well as all other relevant details?¡±


    Though her mind had yet to fully catch up with the bizarre phenomenon, she nodded and moved to grab the mysterious box, only to find that it was already in her hands. She gave the priest a skeptical look, but reading his face was impossible; his guard was up, and it was better than many of those that thrived in the Cadrian court.


    ¡°The quest was issued by the celestial Alfred Llarsse. We,¡± she looked at Sylvia, ¡°were tasked with delivering this box to one of Flitzegarde¡¯s temples.¡±


    ¡°Yup!¡± said the foxgirl. ¡°And it¡¯s a real quest, not just an ask. It went through the system and everything.¡±


    ¡°I do not recall there being an Alfred Llarsse among the list of known celestials¡­¡± The man scribbled a few notes down with his quill before taking the box and examining its exterior. It was not until he was sure that it was harmless that he finally opened up its lid and peeked inside.


    Claire followed his eyes with her own at first, but quickly steered them away upon noting its contents. She lowered her stance and prepared for a potential conflict, but no such event came to be. His face a light shade of red, the priest closed the box back up and took a slow but unsteady breath. ¡°C-consider these items duly received.¡± He quickly filled in a few blanks and handed her a neatly cut document. ¡°This will be your invoice. Now if you¡¯ll excuse me, I have some¡­ private matters to attend to.¡± Pulling the box closer to his chest, he took off and made for the building¡¯s depths.


    Log Entry 6023


    You have completed ¡°Flitzegarde¡¯s Greatest Need.¡±


    The celestial of life and fertility has forgiven all of your misdeeds.


    ¡°Damn it, Al! I should¡¯ve known,¡± muttered Sylvia. ¡°He likes that trick way too much for his own good.¡±


    ¡°We should leave,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Uhmmm? What was in the box?¡± asked Lia.


    ¡°Nothing.¡± The snake grabbed the cat by the shoulders and spun her around. ¡°Now let¡¯s go.¡±


    Though Natalya would never learn of the package¡¯s contents, she would later hear a rumour regarding a particularly curious excommunication. According to the public record, the priest in question was branded a heretic after a superior discovered him standing before one of the goddess¡¯ effigies with his hands inside his pants. Accompanying the mad clergyman was a horde of blasphemous material, the most egregious of which was an illustrated story depicting the goddess of order alongside an unfathomably erect orc.


    ¡°That¡¯s all of our business.¡± Claire spoke as soon as they left the temple¡¯s grounds. ¡°Let¡¯s go. To the dungeon.¡±


    ¡°Hold your horses.¡± A hand grabbed the back of her dress before she could march down the street. ¡°I think we should visit the arms dealer before we leave.¡±


    ¡°Well I don¡¯t,¡± said Claire. ¡°We¡¯ve wasted enough time.¡± Her ascension was right around the corner, and it was taking all the willpower she had not to run off in its immediate pursuit. Even though she had to wait another twenty five hours regardless.


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    The impatient lyrkress had already decided not to take on any new quests. Vella had extended a personal invitation, and she suspected that Builledracht would have been willing to negotiate, but she skipped out on visiting both in the interest of time. Flitzegarde was another deity she had planned on asking, but Alfred had led her to miss out on the opportunity. She was certain that the door was closed to her, after discovering the box¡¯s contents.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got a lot of funds to spare, so it might be worth investing in some new equipment. I think I might know someone that¡¯s good enough to work with the horns you kept.¡±


    ¡°I dunno if there¡¯s really much of a point,¡± said Sylvia. The half-fox was still in her elven form. She was too busy enjoying the sensation of her mother¡¯s hand-made dress to bother switching back. ¡°Claire loses stuff all the time, and she¡¯s probably just gonna pick up something better later and use that instead.¡±


    While Sylvia thought nothing of the statement, Boris found himself staring down an existential crisis. The lizard reacted with a look of despair, followed by another when he realised that the first was completely ignored.


    ¡°Oh, that reminds me,¡± said Natalya. ¡°How do you manage to use all those different types of weapons anyway?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I know, I know! Blade magic!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I¡¯m not quite sure that explains how she¡¯s able to use Boris¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s because Boris is just a blade if you squint hard enough, duh,¡± said the fox. ¡°Right, Boris?¡±


    The lump of metal still strapped to Claire¡¯s back raised his head and nodded with all the vigour of a sad lizard desperately trying to prove his worth. Almost exactly like that, in fact.


    ¡°See?¡±


    ¡°That sounds like a bit of a stretch no matter how you spin it,¡± muttered the cat.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. It works,¡± said Claire. ¡°We can come back for equipment later. Once I level. Just two more times.¡±


    ¡°Alright, alright, fine.¡± Natalya sighed. ¡°I can already tell that you¡¯re just going to run off if I make you wait. We can head out right away, but I do have just one condition.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°No flying.¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°You want to swim?¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± laughed the cat. ¡°I was thinking we could rent a boat.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°That sounds fun.¡± Eyes sparkling, Sylvia stretched her spine as far as it would go and looked towards the sea. ¡°I¡¯ve never been on a boat before.¡±


    The buildings littering the city stopped her eyes from reaching the ocean, so she climbed Claire¡¯s back in an attempt to get a better look, completely unbothered by the fact that they were both in their humanoid forms.


    ¡°Stupid dog,¡± muttered the lyrkress.


    ¡°Hey, I heard that!¡±


    ¡°I know. That was the point.¡±


    Sylvia was standing directly atop the other girl¡¯s shoulders. And because they both remained perfectly balanced, they drew the eyes of those around them. Whispers shot through the crowd, with many commenters pointing out that neither of them were Ryllain natives. Some wondered if they were traveling performers, while others remarked them dangerous, stupid, or both.


    ¡°Why do you keep calling Sylvia a dog anyway?¡± asked Natalya.


    ¡°It¡¯s because she¡¯s mean!¡± complained the dog.


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t. There¡¯s a good reason.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right!¡±


    A small frown crossed Claire¡¯s lips. ¡°There¡¯s a very good reason.¡± She crouched over and let the fox step off of her back before forcefully apprehending her by the cheeks. ¡°You said that moose and deer are the same thing.¡±


    ¡°H-huh?¡± The lady with the abused cheeks blinked. Thrice. ¡°I did?¡±


    ¡°Yes. After I blew up Borrok Peak.¡±


    ¡°Wait a second! That was like once! And it was like literally weeks ago!¡±


    ¡°Once too many.¡±


    ¡°Gosh, Claire! You¡¯re so petty!¡± groaned the fox.


    ¡°Noble ladies are not petty.¡± Claire bolstered her pinching efforts. Shaping her fingers into talons, she pulled the foxgirl¡¯s face as far as it would go, and then some.


    ¡°Yeah, but you are! Right, Lia?¡± The victim, however, was unperturbed. She had already learned, thanks to continued exposure, that her cheeks could not be permanently deformed.


    ¡°I think I¡¯m going to have to go with Sylvia on this one,¡± giggled the cat.


    Because the opinion she gave was objectively wrong, she too was subjected to the same punishment; one of the lyrkress¡¯ hands immediately began tugging on the side of her face.


    ¡°Idiots. Both of you,¡± said the deer.


    She continued to walk with both their faces in tow, heading down the street with each step faster and springier than the last. Her victims, of course, were eventually released, but not before their cheeks were left with a visible red mark. Sylvia immediately hid hers by turning back into a fox, but Natalya had not as many tools at her disposal. She could only ignore the people she passed, many of whom regarded the swollen cheek with curiosity.


    The city changed as they got closer to the shore, with the aquatic buildings and paths only growing more prevalent. Some of the lots were effectively empty, just large holes dug into the sand and filled with water that flowed in from the sea. Buildings on the exact opposite side of the spectrum had also become more frequent. There were many large warehouses and other industrial constructs, some of which even had access to the shore. And it was precisely in front of one of those that the group wound up.


    ¡°This should be the place,¡± said Natalya.


    Size aside, the building was relatively unassuming. It had a typical slanted roof, a boring exterior coated in a layer of faded blue paint, and a trio of doors. Even the smallest, the one situated in the middle, was tall enough to fit a moose, and the other two had dimensions at least twenty times greater.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t hurt to try!¡±


    Sylvia dashed up to the tiniest entrance and gave it a knock. There was far too much hammering coming from the other side for anyone to notice the subtle rapping, so Sylvia amplified it with her magic and forced the sound through the building.


    ¡°Stop knocking so loud! You¡¯re gonna break something goddammit!¡± Before long, a shout was hurled at them from beyond the entrance, its owner stomping up to the door and throwing it open shortly after. ¡°The hell do you want?¡±


    The less-than-happy worker that greeted them was an older lady with two heads. One was right beneath the first of her two stomachs. Adorned with eight beady black eyes, it was an extremely fuzzy dome with all the parts that one would expect from her mostly spider-like frame. Its counterpart sat atop the humanoid torso growing out of her neck. Even with its back ramrod straight, its crown was only about two thirds of the way up her massive abdomen, but for what it lacked in height, it made up with musculature. Her body was incredibly defined, with her core clearly visible through her sweat-stained shirt.


    Her humanoid half was clearly annoyed, its attention focused on the taller pair standing in front of it, but her spider half, on the other hand, had its gaze trained on Sylvia. Unlike its pouting counterpart, the arachnid face was completely devoid of anger. It even raised a leg and waved cheerfully at the fox, who was happy to respond in kind.


    ¡°Hello. Is this the Emmers¡¯ shipyard?¡± asked Natalya.


    ¡°Yeah? What ¡®bout it?¡±


    ¡°I was hoping we would be able to rent one of your boats.¡±


    ¡°Rent?¡± The lady scoffed. ¡°We haven¡¯t done that in years. You want a boat, you¡¯ll have to buy one.¡±


    ¡°Y-you haven¡¯t?¡± Lia blinked a few times before regaining her composure. ¡°I guess that could be fine too. How much are they?¡±


    ¡°Depends on what you need. Follow me.¡±


    The spider lady turned around and gestured for the group to follow. Walking through the shipyard, they passed a number of works in progress, massive wooden vessels in all stages of their lives. All of them were being worked on by arachnes, some larger, some smaller, all female and toned.


    ¡°We sell all sorts of different ships. But if it¡¯s just for you three, I¡¯d say you¡¯ll want something smaller. Maybe a rowboat, or one powered by magic if you¡¯ve got the coin.¡±


    She pointed around the building, at everything from the frames hanging off the walls to the vessels already afloat in the water. But while Claire followed her finger at first, she soon found her eyes focused on a peculiar object located atop one of the furthest piers. It was a carving of a strange, lizard-like head, mounted atop a large wooden prism and adorned with the sort of hat that one would typically find atop a witch¡¯s head.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that,¡± said the spider, as she traced the cervitaur¡¯s gaze. ¡°It¡¯s nothing special. Just a small shrine so we can do our midday prayers without having to leave the workplace.¡±


    ¡°Can I use it?¡±


    The arachne eyed her briefly before nodding with her less-humanoid head. ¡°Be my guest. Bet our gods would ¡®preciate the devotion.¡±


    Thanking the bug-eater with a nod, Claire left the shopping to the others and approached the deities¡¯ shared effigy. Sitting on her knees, she clasped her hands in her lap and closed her eyes, and first prayed to the one that was unfamiliar.


    ¡°O goddess of the moon. Mistress of tides, and guiding light. I beseech from you a trial, a task that would deem me worthy of your blessing.¡±


    The goddess did not whisk her away or even send a revelation. The night was still far, but the goddess was not unwilling to respond. A swirl of energy appeared around the lyrkress and enveloped her body, wrapping it as would a mantle of raw divinity.


    Log Entry 6024


    You have received a quest - Aid the Moonchild


    Primary Objectives


    - Provide aid to the one blessed with the mark of the moon.


    This quest¡¯s reward is a blessing from Griselda, goddess of the moon. The precise strength and effect of this blessing is to be determined by the goddess¡¯ satisfaction.


    Nodding, she took a deep breath and cleared her mind of distractions. Slowly, carefully, she invoked the title of the deity she had shown her back.


    ¡°O god of curses, divine overlord of lament and grief. I am your subject no longer, but for my shameless insolence I seek exoneration. I wish from you a task not for your blessing, but your pardon and forgiveness.¡±


    She was expecting Builledracht to either ignore or scorn her. But her former patron did neither.


    Log Entry 6025


    You have received a divine revelation:


    Claire,


    I¡¯ve been keeping a careful eye on you ever since you first interfered with that ritual. I¡¯m confident that you would be able to clear any trial worth giving, and I don¡¯t see any purpose in putting you through any more undue stress. My blessing is yours, so long as you still remember what we last discussed.


    May eternal suffering befall your foes,


    Builledracht


    ¡°I understand,¡± said Claire. ¡°I swear upon my soul that I shall endeavour to carefully consider any option that has mention of a ¡®dragon.¡¯¡±


    Log Entry 6026


    You have been blessed by the God of Curses. You have become more resistant to curses and your ability to remove them through the application of divine power has been greatly enhanced. Those that face you in combat are more prone to falling prey to the effects of fear.


    ¡°Thank you, Builledracht.¡±


    There were no more messages, and Claire had little more to say, but she kept her hands clasped regardless and stayed stock still in front of the shrine whilst her friends shopped for boats. It was the least she could do to express her thanks. To the man who had so graciously forgotten her betrayal.

 Chapter 171 - Forgotten Blood V

    Chapter 171 - Forgotten Blood V


    Her eyes closed and her fins spread wide, Claire basked in the late afternoon sun with the waves washing over her body. Again and again, the gentle seawater passed her by, flushing the impurities that stained her cloak and frame alike. Even without effort, she drifted through the ocean, towards the dungeon. All courtesy of the vessel to which she was attached.


    It had been a full day since the group set foot in Vel¡¯khagan, and about half that since they first paddled out to sea. Sylvia and Natalya had taken several hours debating the best ship to buy, before finally dismissing one of the shop¡¯s signature spider silk sailboats in favour of a small canoe with two sets of oars. There was a seat for each rower and a slot for Boris between them. The final passenger, the fox, was meant to remain a canine and sit wherever she wished. And while the arrangement worked the first night, the half-elf grew fascinated with the idea of steering the vessel by morning.


    Claire was willing to give up her seat, but unlike the other halfbreed, she was unable to shrink or sit on anyone else¡¯s shoulders, at least not without tipping the boat. The conundrum had the fox perplexed at first, but she soon came up with a solution. Tying the mooring rope to the lyrkress¡¯ tail, she created an artificial third seat that lay just beyond the tiny vessel¡¯s boundaries. A literal demonstration of thinking outside the box.


    Though somewhat humiliated by the notion of being dragged around like a dead fish, the gracious lyrkress did not object to the irrational suggestion. She wished for Sylvia to have her fun, and soon arrived at the conclusion that there would be no purpose in friendship if one was not occasionally treated as the necessary luggage of another.


    Considering their bond was also what led the lyrkress to turn upside down and look deeper into the water. There were countless schools of fish swimming through the ocean, and catching them quickly proved the best way to pass the time. The rope kept her from moving far enough to catch them by hand, but her magic was more than a worthy supplement. Her unfortunate targets were reeled straight into her hands, those that fought back magically paralyzed and thrown above the water¡¯s surface along with all the others. Each of the many creatures casually tossed over her shoulder was guided further by her tail and plopped within the boat. Not all of them made it so far, however. At least half were nabbed out of the air and swallowed in just a few bites, bones, scales, and all.


    ¡°How are you doing that?¡± Natalya blinked as she watched a large salmon fly over Sylvia¡¯s head and land in her lap.


    ¡°Mfmfhphoorheee?¡± It took the half-elf a second to swallow the herring in her throat and repeat the words in a more intelligible manner. ¡°Who, me?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Wasn¡¯t the one you had this morning twice your size? I thought it was going to sink the ship.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you mean the tuna! That one was tasty.¡± Sylvia rubbed her belly and stretched out her back before finally digging her teeth into the salmon¡¯s tail. ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I dunno. I just eat them and they poof.¡± Another quick bite, and the salmon was gone. Without a trace.


    ¡°I see.¡± Natalya flipped her usual book open to a page marked with a blue tab and jotted down a few notes. ¡°So you don¡¯t know how it works at all?¡±


    ¡°Nope!¡± chirped the foxgirl. ¡°Oh yeah, what is that thing anyway? I swear I see you pull it out and write in it like literally all the time! How¡¯s it not full already?¡±


    ¡°That would be because it¡¯s an artifact,¡± said the cat, with a proud smile. ¡°Alina, my sister, won it in a raffle a long time ago. She had it with her throughout all her adventures and passed it down to me when she decided to join the army. Now I¡¯m doing what she did. I open it up and take a few notes whenever I find something strange or unique. I also use it to log our finances, when it¡¯s necessary.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s neat!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Wait a second¡­ doesn¡¯t that mean you think I¡¯m weird?¡±


    Lia stuck out her tongue. ¡°Maybe just a little.¡±


    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s mean!¡± griped the fox.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t written anything bad, I promise!¡± said the cat.


    With her documentation already complete, she holstered the artifact and returned her hands to the oars. They were soon westbound again, heading towards a destination visible only on the map. It had already been three hours since they last set foot on dry land, but while the continent was certainly no longer visible, it wasn¡¯t as if the ocean was all there was to see. There were a countless number of islands dotting the horizon, but they were further apart than those that made up Sky Lagoon¡¯s archipelago. The waters between them were also not nearly as shallow, with a number of deep cliffs and gorges running their course.


    Claire was half-tempted to explore them. She wanted to go deeper, to find the lost kingdoms buried beneath the sea, defeat their ancient guards, and pillage the treasure they housed. But at the same time, she found the idea of exploring the depths extremely concerning. They were no longer in Llystletein, in an environment where the wildlife was falsified and their levels loosely fixed. Beyond the dungeon¡¯s confines, there was no such safety blanket. Anything could be any level, regardless of where it was. Worse yet, the world beneath the waves was many times larger than the one above it, and its denizens had much longer to grow. There was always the possibility that they would stumble across some sort of ancient primordial being too powerful for any mere mortal to handle.


    It was right as Claire considered the possibility of running into such an entity that the sea suddenly grew rougher. Though the sky above was still bright and sunny, the waves began to churn, as they would have during a devastating storm. The violent waters took control away from the boat and its rowers. The tiny vessel was raised by the waves and dropped back into the water, over and over. Sometimes, it would even be swallowed entirely.


    Sylvia was the only reason it had managed to stay afloat at all. Raising her voice, she sang with all the allure of a siren and wrapped the boat up in a bubble. The excess water was flushed away by the very same song; it was lifted out of the wooden bathtub and transformed into a veil of mist. The moisture was absorbed into her barrier and warped into an additional defensive layer, just in time to deflect an arrow made of light.


    When Claire begrudgingly lifted her face out of the water, she found their tiny boat confronted by a much larger ship. It was the sort that could not be easily operated with only a few people on board, measuring in at over fifty meters long and ten across. Its massive sails doubled as banners and flags; each bore the mark of a god, a venomous serpent curled into a circle with its tail halfway down its throat. Confirmation that the sailors were Glarchst¡¯s agents, holy warriors that fought to bring pestilence to those that rejected his teachings.


    Standing alone at the forefront was a fish-faced man with a bow at the ready. His face was familiar, and it took only a second for Claire to recall that she had seen him just a few days prior. He was one of the four that had attacked Nymphetel¡¯s party and the only one to have escaped the slaughter.


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    Claire didn¡¯t quite recall his name. She was under the vague impression that at least one of his dead comrades had used it, but it mattered little with all things considered. In her mind, he had long been a person no longer. There was little purpose in committing him to memory if he would serve as nothing but experience.


    ¡°This is for Wren!¡±


    Pulling his bow back again, he charged his next arrow with lightning, loosing it only when his body could no longer handle the current. It whistled as it flew through the air, but it was incapable of breaking through the fox¡¯s shell. The projectile was completely destroyed on impact, shattering into a million tiny specks while the barrier remained unscathed.


    Though somewhat confused, the archer immediately shifted his focus to Claire, who lay beyond the protective layer, and launched another attack. The lyrkress¡¯ defenses were not nearly as potent, but she wasn¡¯t helpless. A casual flick of the wrist saw the arrow neutered and deflected. Its newly assigned course ended with its tip in the water and its electric charge dispersed by the sea.


    Still, the man atop the ship was not discouraged. Taking a deep breath, he raised his voice and ordered the ship¡¯s men to join him in opening fire.


    Spells, cannonballs, and miscellaneous explosive artifacts all flew straight at the exposed half-moose, but none were able to reach her. A glacier-sized wall of ice rose from within the depths and stopped all the missiles in their tracks. Untying her tail and diving back beneath the waves, Claire began approaching the ship, but soon noticed that it was well suited to dealing with threats from the deep. There were harpoon guns mounted all over its hull, alongside magical cannons, fully charged and ready to ward off whatever struck at it from below.


    While she didn¡¯t find the defenses particularly threatening, they annoyed the halfbreed enough for her to rise back above the surface. Grabbing Boris, she flew through the sky and destroyed all the inbound projectiles with his face. Though some were magically charged, none were capable of getting past his hide. He continued to look sleepy, even as she landed atop the ship and used him to assault the familiar archer. A single overhead swing left the man completely deformed. The lizard completely obliterated his neck and buried his fishy head in his broken ribs. But he wasn¡¯t dead. There was no log, and two of his men drew their cutlasses and charged her before she could finish him off. While they certainly succeeded in providing a distraction, the assault itself was an abject failure. The man behind her was skewered through the chest as a catgirl suddenly appeared in front of him, while the other was ripped to shreds by Boris¡¯ sail. He extended it from his spine when she slashed and used its jagged tips as one would an iron claw.


    Though somewhat impressed, she soon discarded the lizard; he was thrown at a mage in the midst of casting a spell as she met another assailant with a dead sailor¡¯s blade. He was intently focused on the clash of weapons, but Claire saw it as nothing but a distraction. She lashed out with her tail before their swords could meet again and crushed his heart with her iron grip. There was no contest. He was dead in an instant, with his corpse falling off the ship and into the sea.


    ¡°Use the wave breaker! We¡¯re going back under!¡±


    The archer, who had retreated to the rear, shouted the command as he drew two arrows from his quiver and nocked them against his bow. His posture was still as it was before. He didn¡¯t adjust it to account for his head''s new position, but his aim stayed true nonetheless. Both the lightning charged arrows homed straight towards Claire¡¯s chest, as if guided by a divine hand only to be swatted away. He tried to reposition again, but she caught up to him immediately, plowing through the men in her path with halberds made of ice.


    They weren¡¯t very durable. Two or three hits would leave the makeshift weapons shattered and broken, but Claire minded not. It took only a moment for each spear to regenerate, and the ship¡¯s crew was never fast enough to leverage the downtime. It wasn¡¯t long before she had the supposed commander on the end of her pole. Stabbing him through the gut with one weapon, she removed his hands with the other and sealed his method of retaliation.


    ¡°Don¡¯t think you¡¯ve won!¡± He growled through his bloodied teeth. ¡°Glarchst has seen your sins! For killing his champions and soiling his entertainment, you have earned his ire! We will find you, and we wi¡ª¡±


    Claire grabbed Boris with her tail and cut the fishy ranger off with a bash to the face. One smash was enough to knock him unconscious, but it took another five to silence him for good.


    ¡°Is it just me, or was he trying to give us some sort of warning?¡±


    There were no enemies left on the boat. Lia had finished them all off with the same dark knight skill that she had used to sever the fortress; a single cleave had slain two masts and three dozen men. Still, Claire was too distracted to answer. All her focus was taken by her log. She was skimming through it as quickly as she could, searching for the key entries hidden beneath the pointlessly inflated kill count, but she couldn¡¯t quite find what she hoped, no matter how many times she checked.


    A quick look at her status confirmed her fears. Her racial class was still only level 249. She was almost completely through the level, but the assailants hadn¡¯t quite been powerful enough to push her over the edge.


    ¡°Maybe if he brought a few more men.¡± The ship lurched as she grumbled, jerking to and fro in the still violent seas. Claire wrote it off as a natural phenomenon at first, but the conclusion was immediately called to question. A second, more violent lurch followed the first, with a third and a fourth accompanying soon after. The fifth came with the most drastic change. The ship suddenly started to fall like a rock, with its remaining passengers accompanying it on its journey. Claire was able to escape the strange phenomenon by kicking off the boat, and her magic allowed to capture the others before they vanished into the depths. But not all was well. Because she had wrongly assumed that fleeing the boat would bring her to safety.


    A series of powerful underwater currents made it impossible for her to control her direction. They robbed her of her agency and flung her body off in random directions. She still tried to press towards the surface, but the waves mercilessly dragged her deeper and deeper into the abyss.


    It took a storm of charged vectors, the most powerful burst of force magic she could muster, to finally break free of the flow. Emerging from the sea like a dolphin, she immediately scanned her surroundings and looked for Sylvia, but the fox was nowhere to be found. Catgirl detector picked up nothing. She had been washed so far away by the current that her friend was out of range.


    Glancing quickly at the others, she found that while Boris was fine, Natalya was looking worse for wear. The catgirl was unconscious and completely unresponsive. She didn¡¯t even start coughing up the water in her lungs until Claire grabbed her sides and squeezed her like a rag.


    ¡°Sylvia will be fine by herself.¡± Muttering under her breath, the halfbreed looked towards the closest island and dragged her remaining companions to the beach. ¡°We¡¯re the ones in more danger.¡±


    Setting Lia down in the sand and raising her ears high, she examined both the cat and her surroundings. The berserker had somewhat recovered. Her breaths were still somewhat ragged, but her heart was beating regularly. She was likely to awaken with time.


    Knowing that set the lyrkress at ease, but everything she heard did exactly the opposite. The islet they were on was a tiny piece of land, only a few dozen meters in every direction. The center was made up of a layer of dense brush, a tiny jungle with trees much smaller than those that took root on the mainland. It should have been quiet, save for the occasional animal. There was no reason for it not to be otherwise silent and devoid of voices. But there was one, loud and clear, its source the island¡¯s center.


    It was singing a tune that seemed to rattle her bones. She could feel it resounding through her core, and not because it was laced with magic. It seemed to call to her, to appeal to something fundamental, something woven into the very fibre of her being.


    ¡°Watch over her.¡±


    Issuing her living weapon an order, Claire pushed her way through the trees and sought the voice¡¯s owner. The foliage grew sparse as she approached, with all of it eventually giving way to a lawn. And with it, a small house.


    There was an old lady sitting on the porch, rocking in a strange chair even longer than those meant for centaurs. The wooden implement was certainly an object of interest, but it did not catch her attention in the way that the ancient woman stole her eyes.


    Her frame sported two legs, two fins, and a tail.


    She looked like she could swim through the water, gallop across the beach, and slither up a tree all at once. And Claire knew for certain that she could.


    Because she was a lyrkress.


    The only other that she had ever seen.

 Chapter 171.5 - The Fox, the Turtle, and the Cowardly Duck

    Chapter 171.5 - The Fox, the Turtle, and the Cowardly Duck


    Blinking exactly three times, Sylvia looked over the edge of her tiny canoe and gazed into the whirlpool that had stolen her companions. It was not a natural occurrence, but one enabled by the artifact attached to the ship they boarded. The fox was unfamiliar with such devices and remained incapable of deciphering its precise functions, but she could tell, by using her tail-antenna, that it was the sort that would malfunction if not perfectly controlled.


    Humming a quick note, she magnified her vision and focused on the ship¡¯s deck. All three familiar faces looked unharmed, but none were able to break free from the magic boat. They continued to plunge deeper and deeper into the ocean, vanishing completely after a brief delay, and leaving nothing but the swirling sea behind.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ guys? I think you were supposed to get off¡­¡±


    The words, of course, went unheard by their intended listeners. Her voice was unable to reach them with the waves in the way. She would have to give chase.


    Humming a quick tune, she enveloped her tiny boat in a large bubble and forced it beneath the waves. She tried following the currents the whirlpool created, but they vanished as quickly as the aquatic vortex took form, dispersing before she got even halfway down to the depth at which they had disappeared.


    For any other, it would have been a disastrous outcome. They were completely lost, outside even the 50 kilometer range that her sonar could reach. But the fox was unconcerned. The tracker she had placed on Claire, when they first parted ways at Borrok Peak, was still perfectly functional. It provided her the lyrkress¡¯ precise coordinates, all the information she needed to warp right to her side.


    Raising a hand in front of her, the vixen tried just that, but found her magic blocked. Something was preventing it from going through, likely a sort of barrier. She tried to probe at it again with a more powerful wormhole, but was rudely interrupted by a large fish. The deep sea creature had opened its jaws and extended its tongue. The muscular appendage, which was still at least five times the size of her boat, opened up to reveal its own second pair of fangs. The teeth made contact with her bubble and reeled her in, an attempt to consume the entire vessel.


    Mildly annoyed, she spun around and turned the tables. Nibbling at the water, she warped half its face inside her mouth and swallowed the rest with the bite that followed. She tried to turn her attention back to the strange magical phenomenon, but was greeted with another fish, and then another and another. Only half an hour later did she finally find herself free from their presence. The total amount of biomass she consumed was something in the range of seventeen thousand tons, but the fox girl was unbothered, and her waistline appeared exactly as it had before.


    It was only after basking in her attackers¡¯ rich flavour that she recalled the task at hand. Her mark was telling her that Claire was on the move; it would only be a matter of time before she grew anxious, just as she had during their previous separation.


    The thought prompted a smile, as well as a burst of motivation. Pressing both hands on the tiny boat¡¯s oars, she rowed as quickly as she could and propelled herself through the sea. The physical motion was entirely unnecessary; her bubble was the true source of her speed, but the game of pretend made for a more enjoyable experience. A song erupted from her throat as she continued, an ode that roughed the seas around her and summoned a storm in the skies above.


    Had her father been present, his jaw surely would have dropped far enough to hit the floor. Because the boat had become a willow, and the oars her swords. The trump card he had taken so many years to learn and perfect was stolen entirely in passing. It wasn¡¯t a perfect copy. Her version of the song was incomplete. She had only heard half the elven hymn, so the scene she crafted warped and differed from his as she was forced to improvise. The beautiful autumn leaves were turned into the abyssal horrors that she so often crafted in her downtime, and the boat soon morphed from willow to shoggoth. The paddles went from swords to tentacles, propellers that drove the many-eyed blob through the waves and into the depths.


    The magical coordinates led her to a distorted, underwater structure, another magical whirlpool. Unlike the previous swirl, the one before her was effectively a portal, an arrangement of vectors meant to take her to another plane.


    ¡°So that¡¯s why my spell wasn¡¯t working.¡±


    The fox twisted her lips into a small frown as she stared at the god-made structure. It was difficult to determine exactly which deity it belonged to, but her first impression was that it likely lay with Flux, for she was the goddess that ruled the seas. Further observation, however, revealed that it was not the flow that had formed the vortex. Its dimensions were too regular, too orderly for it to be the work of a greater being aligned with chaos, a testament to Griselda¡¯s handiwork. Though less proficient, the goddess of the moon and tides was certainly capable of interfering in the waters and their affairs. Whatever the case, her task was unchanged. The poor lyrkress would cry if she didn¡¯t hurry, and as adorable as her heartbroken, tear-stained face was, the fox wanted little to do with the petty aftermath sure to follow.


    Giggling to herself, Sylvia rowed through the portal and warped into a boring, grey room with nothing but a dimensional rift behind her and a sealed door to her front. It was covered with chains, the very same ones that had barred Farenlight from escaping its den.


    A small sigh escaped her lips as she carefully observed the immovable objects. The fox lacked the divinity required to interact with them directly, and suspected that breaking through was less than an optimal choice. Such an act of violence was likely to anger the goddess that owned the dungeon, and she had no intention of earning herself a dose of divine fury.


    ¡°I guess I just have to persuade it.¡± Twisting her lips into a pout, she walked up the door and gave it a quick knock. ¡°Hello, Mr. Doorgateportalthingy.¡±


    There was no audible response, but the fox¡¯s ears perked up, as if there was. From an outsider¡¯s perspective, the scene appeared as would an absurd ruse, but Sylvia was an aspect and reality was in the eyes of the beholder.


    ¡°I know,¡± she spoke again after a moment of respite. ¡°But I don¡¯t actually exist so it¡¯s okay if you let me through.¡±


    Silence.


    ¡°No she isn¡¯t! Flitzegarde doesn¡¯t think I exist either, so it¡¯s gonna be fine. No one¡¯ll ever have to know.¡±


    More silence.


    ¡°Yeah, I promise!¡±


    There was another brief delay. Followed by the door suddenly swinging wide open on its own, closing behind her as soon as she moved through and cast her eyes on the artificial world that lay beyond.


    It was a city, or at least the remains thereof. A beautiful, ancient civilization that belonged not beneath the depths, but well above the waves. There were stone buildings with stained glass roofs shattered by the pressure of the deep seas, temples and cathedrals maintained only by the divine powers that were, and homes aplenty, slowly eroded by water, time, and the countless monsters therein.


    The coordinates lay somewhere in the center of the city. It was a large district, spanning at least a dozen square kilometers, but it was completely out of reach. An opaque barrier kept it isolated from the rest of the subspace, maintained by three bright beams of light, each attached to an obelisk.


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    Knowing exactly what she had to do, the fox stretched her back, rowed to the first stone tower, and prepared to obliterate it with a bolt of arcane magic. A large cetacean burst out from the ground in front of the stone right as she loosed the spell, an imposing beast with a spinning blade growing out of its head and five more attached to each fin. But imposing was not the only word that could be used to describe it, nor even the most accurate. Because it was just as impressive and striking as it was dead.


    The sea creature had bashed its blade into her spell, only to find itself obliterated by the very same explosion that destroyed the obelisk behind it.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ oops?¡± The mage blinked as she cast her eyes on the half evaporated corpse. Its tail was the only part of it that remained. The rest of its flesh had been completely and utterly erased.


    An awkward, troubled smile on her face, the murderer-in-denial put her hands back on the paddles and quickly rowed away. Distancing herself from the scene of the crime, she zoomed towards the second tower and prepared for its destruction. Having learned from her first experience, she waited half a moment for the guardian, an oversized duck, to spawn before moving it out of her way with a force and crushing the obelisk with another.


    The bird¡¯s aggression came to an immediate end as it realised the fate of its charge. Blinking rapidly, it looked between the fox and the ruined stone structure before dropping to the seafloor and scampering behind a building, its massive orange feet quivering with terror.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay! I¡¯m not going to hurt you!¡±


    Sylvia teleported on top of the stone-skinned bird and gave it a light pat, but her sudden movements only added to its hysteria. Going into full panic mode, it quacked up a storm and sprinted away at top speed. The first building it found was immediately destroyed, battered and broken by one of its wings. Quacking another three times, the duck closed its eyes and stuck its head into the resulting pile of rubble. A desperate attempt to pretend that there was no threat to be observed.


    Its antics were met with nothing but a quiet giggle. Unlike a certain friend of hers, the aspect cared very little for the experience the traumatized canard offered. Of far greater value was the chance to play with its feathers, so she took a moment to roll around atop the waterfowl¡¯s back. Once satisfied, she plucked a Claire-sized feather to keep as a souvenir and stored it in her tail before returning to her ship and rowing to the final generator.


    Its guardian was no more impressive than the last, a phantom in the shape of a large boat. It spawned an illusory army of undead, the strongest of which was only a greater lich. But because it was only level 1000, it was hardly worth considering; the legendary undead would have failed to qualify as a threat, even in the case that it had been more than just a hallucination. A single soul rend saw everything destroyed. The lich, the ghost ship, and the obelisk were all shattered and turned to dust.


    Rowing her boat again, she moved towards the region the barrier had previously veiled, but failed to find the lyrkress within. What awaited her instead was a massive marine monster, a sea turtle with a neck five times the length of his shell, and a tail that was even longer. Fierce heads sat on the end of both, lined with jagged teeth, tusks, and horns aplenty.


    One of the heads turned to her as she arrived and offered a light nod.


    ¡°Hi!¡± She reciprocated the hello with a wave of her own. ¡°Have you seen a dopey deer-snake thing anywhere?¡±


    ¡°State your name, intruder.¡± Ignoring the foxgirl¡¯s question, the giant fish narrowed its eyes and began with a demand. Both its heads were trained right on her, its eyes glowing with an eerie yellow light.


    Though a bit miffed, the half-elf soon decided that there was no harm in playing along. If the local was friendly, then there was a chance it would be able to tell her where her lyrkress had gone. ¡°I¡¯m Sylvia. Sylvia Redleaf.¡±


    She expected the appetizer to name itself in kind or provide some sort of format greeting, but she received none of those things. It returned only a sneer, like a hunter that had caught its prey.


    ¡°Then as the immortal protector of this dungeon, Sylvia Redleaf, I invoke upon you the curse of lost time.¡±


    A magic circle flared to life beneath the long-necked turtle and marked the ritual¡¯s completion. Calling upon the curse god¡¯s power, it cast a powerful hex that would grind the named target¡¯s perception of time to a standstill. It was a powerful ability, but only lasted until the target was first struck, and required a strict set of conditions to activate. He would have had to change his plans had she not named herself mid-rite. In essence, it was a cheap, impractical party trick, albeit one that remained undeniably effective. Its use had aided the turtle in felling decades of intruders, some of which had levels much higher than his own.


    He could tell from the fox¡¯s aura that she happened to fall under that exact category. The sheer amount of magic contained within her tiny frame was great enough to shatter him under its weight. In a fair fight, he never would have been able to last long enough to cast a spell. But the battle was over the moment she fell for his trap.


    His heart brimming with confidence, he opened his mouth and prepared his most powerful attack, the ultimate skill that he had acquired upon the acquisition of his thousandth level. It required thirty seconds to charge, but its potency was so great that it could tear through the spacetime that kept him confined within the dungeon. In just a few more decades, he was confident that he would finally be able to blast a hole large enough for him to leave.


    It was as he mulled that thought that he realised that something was off. The girl¡¯s tail was swishing. A look with his second head confirmed that she was anything but lost in time. Her eyes were moving around, and she was holding a finger to her chin, as if to scrutinize either him or his attack.


    When he next blinked, he found neither head looking in her direction. All four of his eyes were focused instead on the ruined buildings that he had spent the past few decades observing. He tried to filter a breath through his gills, but couldn¡¯t. Something was wrong with his throat, and it took looking down for him to realise just what that something was. His necks were tied together. Each had been used to restrain the other, and they were entangled in a way that made it impossible for them to part.


    Disbelief flooded his mind. He had no idea how she had resisted his curse, nor how he suddenly wound up with his body tied in such a knot.


    Terror followed soon after. He began to tremble as he looked down at the strange fox, who only smiled and stuck out her tongue, with her hands behind her hips.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not here to fight,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m just looking for my friend.¡±


    He tried to open his mouth to speak, but the words refused to come out, not with his neck crushed beneath its own weight.


    ¡°Oh¡­ uhh¡­ oops. I guess you can¡¯t talk anymore, huh? It¡¯s okay! I think I can probably still fix you.¡± The world suddenly spun. It felt like he saw everything go round a dozen times in a fraction of a second. So blurry and imperceptible were the sights that he wasn¡¯t even sure what he had really seen. But once it ended, he found his heads back in their previous positions, and his necks unrestricted again.


    Gasping, he filtered as much water through his gills as he could before bowing his head in panic. ¡°I yield. I¡¯ll do whatever you say, so long as you leave right after.¡±


    ¡°Ughhh¡­ you don¡¯t listen when people talk, do you?¡± mumbled the strange elf. ¡°I told you, I¡¯m looking for my dumb friend! She¡¯s really long, and has hooves and stuff. Oh, and she has silver hair. And a really sittable head.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen anyone in the past few weeks, let alone anyone like that,¡± he said.


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± The fox¡¯s ears drooped visibly. ¡°That¡¯s not good. I guess I just have to investigate the coordinates¡­¡± She dropped to the seafloor and walked up to a particularly large clam. ¡°It should be right here? I think the flow of magic is kinda off, but¡­¡±


    A smirk appeared on the monster¡¯s face as she closed her eyes and focused. Her guard was down; it was the perfect chance to strike. A chance he took in stride.


    Rearing back both his heads, he lunged at her with all the force he could muster, opened his jaws wide, and closed them around the witless forest dweller. A sickening crunch followed, a sound that signified the breaking of bone and rending of flesh.


    But it was not the fox that was devoured.


    ¡°Ughhh¡­ you¡¯re so annoying!¡±


    Sylvia spoke as she swallowed the creature¡¯s skull. The entire front half of its body had found itself in her mouth as soon as she parted her lips.


    ¡°And you¡¯re not even tasty! You''re so yucky and muddy that I can¡¯t even tell if you¡¯re supposed to be a fish!¡±


    Its second brain raced as it desperately tried to make sense of the situation. But it too was consumed. Before it could so much as process the source of its pain. There was nothing left, the only proof of its existence the holes its fangs had punched in its attacker¡¯s ship.


    ¡°And you ruined the boat! What the heck! I hope Claire doesn¡¯t get mad at me¡­¡±


    Groaning, Sylvia turned her eyes from the ruined vessel back to the strange point in space. The nuisance was out of her hair. She could finally focus her efforts on tracking her lost pet.

 Chapter 172 - Forgotten Blood VI

    Chapter 172 - Forgotten Blood VI


    The old lyrkress was not unaware of the other moose-snake¡¯s presence. She spotted her as she walked onto her property, but continued to sing. No further attention was given to the duke¡¯s daughter until the verse reached its conclusion.


    While Claire did not expect to be outright ignored, she remained silent and patiently waited until the older sea creature was done with her song. She had thought that the old lady would react with surprise or perhaps even shock upon catching sight of her, but she was struck with neither. Scoffing instead, she leaned back into her chair, gripped the armrests, and spoke in a raspy croak, completely unalike the beautiful singing voice with which she made her first impression.


    ¡°Why are you still here? That song¡¯s supposed to irritate kelpies.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a kelpie.¡±


    The older sea creature leaned forward and gave her a closer look, ¡°Then what are you?¡± but her vision impeded her from arriving at a conclusion.


    ¡°A lyrkress.¡±


    The lady¡¯s first reaction was a laugh, followed shortly after by a coughing fit. ¡°Young lyrkresses don¡¯t exist.¡± Still chuckling, she picked up a glass of a dark, brown liquid and poured half of it down her throat. ¡°There are only a few of us left, and we¡¯ve all long passed the age where it¡¯s possible for us to bear children. Go home, kelpie. I¡¯ve got nothing to say to a cheap imitation.¡±


    Indignance flared through the back of Claire¡¯s mind, but she kept it suppressed and faced the old woman with her usual blank stare. ¡°I wasn¡¯t born as a lyrkress. I ascended. And became one.¡±


    ¡°Even more ridiculous. Kelpies can¡¯t become lyrkrian. No matter how much they try.¡± The old woman slowly pushed herself off her chair and dragged her body over to the door.


    ¡°I was never a kelpie. I was a halfbreed.¡±


    ¡°Between a seahorse and a sea snake? That makes you a kelpie.¡± She moved to close the door behind her, but Claire held it open with a vector.


    ¡°Between a land moose. And a land snake.¡±


    The old lady frowned for a moment before stepping back outside. ¡°Come here then. Let me get a better look at you.¡± She beckoned with her tail, the scales of which were mostly a light green. Her hair looked as if it was once the same colour. There were a few strands still dyed with a piercing verdant sheen, but most were faded into a ghastly white. ¡°My eyes aren¡¯t what they used to be.¡±


    When Claire approached, however, she found herself greeted not with the old lady¡¯s gaze, but rather a smack to the head. She was hit with a fan of sorts, made of materials taken from a nearby tree. The attack did no damage; she felt not even the slightest bit of pain, but it made a loud crack, an intimidating thwack that startled the nearby birds and drove them from their branches.


    ¡°Are you stupid? That just makes it more impossible! You only get lyrkrian children from lyrkresses and lyrkurs! And what¡¯s that damned thing in your chest? We don¡¯t have those!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a variant,¡± said Claire. ¡°A frostblight lyrkress.¡±


    The old lady didn¡¯t quite seem convinced, but eventually breathed a sigh after staring into her eyes. ¡°Fine, you know what? Let¡¯s say you really are a lyrkress. What¡¯s it to me? And why are you here?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± The old lady reacted to the statement with an annoyed twitch, but the blueblood ignored it and continued. ¡°This island was the closest one. We would have stayed on the beach. If I didn¡¯t hear you sing.¡±


    ¡°So the song did not bother you?¡± The older lyrkress raised a brow as she slowly walked circles around her younger counterpart.


    ¡°Not at all,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°How bizarre¡­ how incredibly bizarre.¡± She stepped on Claire¡¯s flippers and happily nodded when they were jerked away and folded back. The other party, of course, was not nearly as entertained. She was tempted to pick the ancient sea creature up by the face, but stopped herself short of acting on the impulse. It was her first time encountering another one of her kind, and engaging in hostilities almost felt like a waste of a rare resource.


    ¡°You really are one of us,¡± muttered the elder. ¡°I can¡¯t believe it.¡± She poked at Claire¡¯s cheeks, at the scales that were one of the key differences, and gave them a pinch. ¡°But you have some extra features as well. Wrong ones. Must¡¯ve been the ascending that messed it all up.¡± Eventually, she put an end to the rude examination and stood face to face with her once more. ¡°You said you didn¡¯t know I was here, right?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°What an interesting coincidence¡­¡± She lowered her gaze with her hand to her chin and shook her head. ¡°Or perhaps not. The circumstances line up far too well for it to be one of those.¡± When she looked back up, she did so with her eyes alight. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know, you¡¯re my first guest in thirty years,¡± she said, with a cackle. ¡°And this place, it¡¯s not one so easy to reach. You must have been guided, by one divine force or another.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    ¡°Definitely.¡± The old lady smiled and returned to her seat. ¡°I¡¯m Kal¡¯syr of Avande¡¯arr, last of the Lyrkrian Spiritguards, and the high priestess of the flow, when our people fell to the imposters.¡±


    Claire gripped her skirt and performed a picture perfect curtsy. ¡°And I am Claire. I became a Frostblight Lyrkress less than one month ago, and how much longer one I will remain, I have not the slightest clue.¡±


    The old lady frowned. ¡°What a shame. I was hoping that you would be willing to birth a few more of us. Our population has dwindled to the point where it might as well be moot. I know of only one other that lives.¡±


    The half-moose shook her head. ¡°If I was content with being used as a tool to bear children, then I never would have become a lyrkress at all.¡±


    Kal¡¯syr smiled, warmly. ¡°I passed on that same duty when I was your age too. That¡¯s why I became high priestess to begin with.¡± She took a moment to look over the horizon, into the past. ¡°You said that you had companions?¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Bring them. I¡¯ll house you tonight.¡±


    The kind offer was met with a suspicious gaze.


    ¡°Of course, not for free. I¡¯d like you to listen to me ramble and maybe even learn a bit about our people while you¡¯re at it. So that our blood will not simply be lost to time and forgotten.¡±


    Claire frowned. ¡°I¡¯ll try. But lectures and sermons bore me. I can never pay attention for long.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep it short then.¡±


    The younger lyrkress took a moment to evaluate the twinkling windows into the older lady¡¯s soul. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll be back.¡± Giving Kal¡¯syr a moment to herself, she retraced her steps and returned to the collapsed catgirl. Lia was already awake. She was sitting up on the beach with her eyes open and chest heaving. Water spilled from her throat with every other breath, a constant cough that persisted even as Boris patted her on the back.


    His assistance was effectively moot. He had a hard time remaining balanced while standing upright, and would more often than not accidentally hit her with too much of his weight, causing her to choke on the water she was trying to eject.


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    ¡°You¡¯re awake,¡± said Claire. Taking the lizard¡¯s place, she lightly hit the cat until all the water was ejected from her lungs.


    ¡°Thanks for keeping an eye on me while I was out,¡± muttered Lia, between coughs.


    ¡°I had Boris do it. I was investigating the island.¡±


    ¡°I wanted you to do it.¡± Natalya wiped off her lips with her tail and turned to face the lyrkress with the saddest puppy-dog face she could manage, but it was outright ignored. The only response Claire offered was a mildly annoyed variant of her usual blank stare.


    ¡°If you¡¯re well enough to be a stupid pervert, then you¡¯re well enough to get up.¡± She casted a quick spell and pulled the cat to her feet. ¡°Someone lives here. She told us we could stay.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t beat or threaten her into submission, did you?¡±


    Natalya¡¯s question was met with a curious tilt of the head.


    ¡°Why would I? I¡¯m not a barbarian.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but you¡¯re Cadrian.¡±


    Ignoring the remark, Claire strapped Boris to her back and returned to Kal¡¯syr¡¯s lodge. Only during the second trip did she take the opportunity to examine the home and its surroundings in more detail. Almost every single one of the forest¡¯s many trees was fruit-bearing, but none of them stood out to her as varieties she recognized. There were purple, elongated berries, spiky red nuts, and even some that looked to be made of more flesh than fibre.


    And yet, the wildlife was kept at a minimum, only a few insects, hogs, and landlocked birds. It was otherwise completely silent, devoid of all the usual pests that would make such a forest their home.


    Kal¡¯syr¡¯s residence was just as quiet and peaceful. There was a single large tree growing next to a beautiful two-story home, complete with a porch, a deck, and even a balcony atop the second floor. It almost seemed too big for one person, with the large, polished stone under the magnolia all but explicitly explaining the lack of another party.


    ¡°This is Natalya.¡± Claire waited for the seahorse to raise her eyes before introducing the cat. All the standard greetings soon followed, but the moose tuned them out in favour of exploring her surroundings.


    While the party¡¯s designated speaker did her job, the lyrkress wandered over to one of the chairs set up atop the lawn. She sat down in it to find her body a perfect match for its lengthy crescent seat. It was comfortable, satisfying as a perfectly tailored sock or glove. Once comfortable, she closed her eyes and focused on searching for the last member of their group. Catgirl detector was failing to catch her, and her ears weren¡¯t doing any better. Not even rising into the sky, chair and all, allowed her to locate the missing canine.


    It was only as she was about to give up that she felt a sudden distortion. A rift opened in the space next to her, an application of force magic not completely unfamiliar.


    Sylvia rowed out of it with a tired cheer. ¡°Whew! I finally made it through! That stupid barrier was tough as heck to crack!¡± She was looking somewhat haggard. Her hair was even messier than usual, and her tail had a few tufts of fur sticking out of random places. Even her clothing was somewhat disheveled, though it was much better off than the boat. The freshly purchased vessel was riddled with holes. Its hull was completely shattered in places, and its metal fixtures either rusted or removed. It was a wonder that it was still in one piece.


    ¡°Hey Claire!¡± Dropping the oars, the fox greeted the other halfbreed by sticking out her tongue. ¡°See? I told you I wouldn¡¯t just randomly leave you alone again.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± The half-lamia smiled before slowly floating over to the foxgirl and squeezing her shoulders tight. It was brief, with the lyrkress withdrawing her arms shortly after and sitting down in the half-broken canoe. ¡°What barrier?¡±


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s just outside! There¡¯s this really weird barrier that kinda keeps this place separate from the rest of the dungeon, and it¡¯s super complicated for no reason.¡±


    Claire slowly tilted her head and blinked. ¡°We¡¯re in a dungeon?¡±


    ¡°Yup! And a really big one too. It took me forever to find you, and I even had to beat up a weird fishy thing that wasn¡¯t a fish. It kept bothering me when I was trying to break in.¡±


    Again, Claire blinked. ¡°A fishy thing that isn¡¯t a fish?¡±


    ¡°Yeah! I thought it was a fish, but the log said it was a leviathan. And it wasn¡¯t tasty. Fish are tasty.¡±


    ¡°You ate the leviathan?¡±


    ¡°What else was I gonna do with it, silly?¡± Sylvia took her hands off the oars and stretched. ¡°Anyway, we should probably go. I¡¯m pretty sure this dungeon¡¯s the kind that needs to be reset for its bosses to repopulate. The only one left is a really cute duck I don¡¯t want you to kill.¡±


    ¡°Not right now. I agreed to something already. And it¡¯s something I should see through.¡± Claire applied a gentle force to the boat and gently lowered it to the ground. The same could not be done for the poor chair. Because it had slipped from her mind, it had long fallen from the sky and crashed into the waves. ¡°Which floor are we on now?


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­¡± Sylvia furrowed her brow. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure. I think this is some sorta subspace that¡¯s in the dungeon but also not really in it at the same time. It¡¯s kinda like a floor, except this dungeon doesn¡¯t actually have floors! Or at least I don¡¯t think it does.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you mean.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s technically part of the dungeon, but it¡¯s also not actually connected to any of the other parts,¡± explained Sylvia. ¡°How did you get in here anyway?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Claire. She stepped out of the boat as it hit the ground and led the foxgirl towards the others. ¡°We were washed away.¡±


    ¡°Huh¡­ that¡¯s really weird, but oh well whatever, I guess.¡± Sylvia turned into a fox as she got off the ruined canoe. She was quick to scamper up the length of Claire¡¯s body and reprise her usual seat. ¡°Not like it really matters. I still found you and stuff.¡±


    ¡°Mhm.¡± Patting the fox on the head, Claire walked through the forest yet again and joined back up with the rest of the group.


    The evening went by in the blink of an eye. Dinner was a collection of fruits gathered from the forest, with one of the strange meaty pomes serving as the main dish. According to Kal¡¯syr, it was grown from the pork tree, whose seeds would grow not into other trees, but tiny piglets if buried beneath the earth. It was only on their deathbeds that the porkers would complete the cycle and become trees in their own right. When it was time, they would apparently plant their uncloven hooves into the ground and sprout of their own accord.


    Sylvia and Natalya retired soon after the meal. The cat went to the bedroom she was assigned, but the fox fell asleep before she made it all the way. She lay in a small ball in the hallway, until she was magically retrieved to be held in Claire¡¯s arms.


    Most of the lyrkrian halfbreed¡¯s time was spent next to a fireplace, listening as the old lady talked about a land long lost, about the lyrkrian kingdom of Avande¡¯arr, about its culture, its people, and its technologies. And during the wee hours of the night, she even told her of its fall, of how it degraded and was swallowed by the dungeon that appeared in the waters beneath it.


    Because it was framed more like a story than a history lesson, Claire found herself enraptured. She even committed many of its details to memory, thinking that it would be a shame for them to be forgotten when Kal¡¯syr joined her husband beneath the ancient magnolia in her garden.


    ¡°I would have liked to teach you much more if we had the time,¡± The once high priestess took a sip from a cup of tea as she walked out onto the veranda. ¡°But that would take years, years that neither of us have.¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m going to ascend soon. And I doubt I¡¯ll remain a lyrkress.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a shame,¡± said the old woman. ¡°I doubt you¡¯ll be able to repeat our song once you change your race, but I still want you to learn it.¡± She extended her frame as far as it would go, keeping only her tail attached to the floor. The rest of her body was held straight up, with her legs and fins both tucked in and her hands clasped in front of her chest. And then, she began to sing.


    It was a gentle but passionate melody. She could hear where the trumpets and drums were meant to slot in, and where the choir was meant to take its place. Even though the old lady was hardly a bard. And just like the other melody, the piece she had heard when they first met, it stirred her to her core. She didn¡¯t know why or how, but she found herself joining in halfway. The lyrics sprang from within her throat. Even though the words were unintelligible, sung in an ancient tongue unconverted to Marish.


    Log Entry 6072


    You have acquired the Singing skill.


    Log Entry 6073


    You have unlocked the Faithless Priestess class.


    Log Entry 6074


    You have completed ¡°A Test of Patience.¡±


    The scope of your ascensions has been increased and 500 ability points have been acquired.


    She could feel her heart pounding in her chest even before the next log was read aloud. Because she could feel it. Something about her body had fundamentally changed.


    Log Entry 6075


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Frostblight Lyrkress, has reached level 250 and qualified for evolution.


    You have been awarded the following bonuses for reaching Frostblight Lyrkress¡¯ final milestone.


    - 250 points in all ability scores


    You have gained 12 ability points.


    Log Entry 6076


    Your tertiary class slot has been unlocked.


    She refrained from questioning the ridiculously well-timed quest. Because all the shackles were off.


    It had finally come time to ascend.

 Chapter 173 - Forgotten Blood VII

    Chapter 173 - Forgotten Blood VII


    ¡°I should¡¯ve known the stupid box had something planned.¡±


    Claire muttered under her breath as she rose from the island and flew above the clouds. There were dozens of land masses dotting the dungeon¡¯s inner sea, but none stood out in a way that caught the eye. They failed to match the picturesque scene she had painted in her mind when she first considered her ascension.


    ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Mhm?¡± The fox teleported out of the lyrkress¡¯ arms and appeared in the space in front of her. Her eyes were sparkling and her tail was wagging up a storm. Her eyes were glowing the same way her father¡¯s sometimes did. She knew that Claire was ready.


    ¡°Take us back up. To the clearing we found near the fort.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing. One dungeon break coming right up!¡±


    An unfathomable amount of magic left the vixen¡¯s body as she clapped her paws together. Slowly at first, and more rapidly after a brief ramp, the raw energy swirled, forming a portal tall enough for a dozen Claires and three times as wide. Its edges crackled, as if fighting against something, but the fox minded it not and stepped right through, her mount following soon after.


    A smile crossed the lyrkress¡¯ lips as she looked down at the body of water. Unlike the ocean, which was either murky or clear, the lake was reflective and provided the perfect place for her to examine any changes in her physique, even under cover of night. She had picked the location out far ahead of time, just a few days after they first left the library.


    ¡°Keep watch. I¡¯ll try to be quick.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Claire. I promise I¡¯ll keep all the super scary evil goblins at bay,¡± said the fox, with a teasing smirk. The greenskins were the only locals. They scared everything but the occasional desperate wolf or deer away from their favourite watering hole.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    The world warped as she went through the mental hoops required to initiate the process. She could feel her legs crumple as her mind was taken away, but the fox caught her before she hit the ground. The last thing she noticed, before the clouds took hold.


    Flux was not the only one present. Builledracht was seated in the space behind her, his arms crossed and a wide, confident grin resting upon his face. She felt like she could sense another gaze, or perhaps another dozen, but none of the observers made themselves known. They hid within clouds, which for once, were completely devoid of cats.


    ¡°Good evening, Claire.¡±


    ¡°Good evening, Box.¡±


    Flux was the only one she spoke to. The greeting she exchanged with Builledracht was a silent nod, and all the others were readily ignored. There was no point in hailing them if they refused to show their faces.


    ¡°Congratulations. You have, one inexplicable way or another, managed to surpass my expectations of mediocrity,¡± said Flux.


    Claire narrowed her eyes, and after quickly running through the consequences in her head, called the goddess¡¯ bluff. ¡°Liar. The quest¡¯s completion was perfectly timed.¡±


    ¡°That would be because I gave it to you after I adjusted my estimates. If you were any more intelligent, I¡¯m sure you would have realised without the explicit explanation, but as much as it pains me to acknowledge, I remain aware that I do all of your thinking for you.¡± Flux paused, continuing only after the silence made it clear that Claire would not deign her with a response. ¡°Now, as I¡¯m sure that even you may be aware, it has come time for you to determine the course of your growth. But first, you must expend the ability points that you have needlessly hoarded.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I understand that your mental capacities are severely lacking, but I do not see why you fail to understand a concept so simple. Their use is the key to unlocking classes beyond your current means.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Frowning, Claire quickly scanned her status and stared down the almost seven thousand points that she had yet to spend. She was fairly comfortable with her present distribution. Agility had naturally exceeded 2500, which she had ascertained to be another threshold, and strength had done the same. Dexterity was only a few hundred points off, but she incremented it only the slightest bit. Because wisdom was sitting at 3185, and using everything but a scant few points brought it to an even 10000. It was a lopsided investment, but not an irrational one, nor a choice she had made in particular haste.


    Log Entry 6091


    You have acquired the ability to sustain a vector without active input.


    Her previous class evolutions had listed ability score values as a part of their requirements, and she suspected that raising one to what was most likely another threshold would allow for more powerful options than spreading them evenly. Skewing so heavily into the use of magic did not facilitate the close combat that she so often preferred, but she was unconcerned. Llystletein Essencethief provided 30 ability points a level, and Cloudburst Sorceress 36. She would soon be able to correct her distribution in short order, even without her new racial class considered.


    Adding to her confidence was Flux¡¯s response. The goddess had not stopped her, nor had her expression clouded in the least. She remained content, even as she used the ability points, a hundred at a time.


    ¡°Excellent. I see that you remain somewhat capable of completing menial tasks.¡± She spoke as soon as the final points were spent. The words were accompanied by a wave of the hand and the creation of a stage. Five different Claires appeared on top of it, each accompanied by a small box detailing the name of its race.


    ¡°Only five?¡± Claire narrowed her eyes and quickly scanned her logs. ¡°There were seventeen classes unlocked.¡±


    ¡°I have gone through the liberty of filtering anything that does not appeal to your pointless sense of vanity,¡± explained the goddess. ¡°None of the others will provide the opportunity to maintain any semblance of your current appearance.¡±


    ¡°I still want to see them.¡±


    ¡°Foolish mortal.¡± Flux slowly shook her head and chuckled before snapping her fingers and beaming the projections directly into the lyrkress¡¯ brain. ¡°Be aware that it is impossible for any of these to shapeshift.¡±


    A number of strange creatures passed through her mind, a white-blue eel, a two-hooved Headhydra, and a moose with a mane made of snakes. There was even a form with antlers, one that would turn her from a cow moose into a bull. And while the horns were certainly striking, she found herself completely disinterested. It was as the goddess said. None of the choices appealed to her aesthetic. They weren¡¯t her, and though she was certainly at a crossroads, the lyrkress had no intention of reimagining her identity.


    That was not to say that the forms standing upon the stage were much better. The only one that did not prompt her to raise a brow was on the far left. It looked almost exactly like her lyrkrian form. She would have immediately selected it, had its ears not been replaced. Growing instead from her head were a pair of fluffy wings. Even folded up, they reached all the way to her flippers, and when the clone unfurled them, it revealed that they spanned a width nearly ten times greater than her length. She did think them rather pretty, but they weren¡¯t worth giving up her ears.


    With Skyfrost Lyrkress written out of the equation, she looked one space to the left, at the so-called Storm Wyrm. It was a snake-like creature with a towering serpentine body over twenty meters long, covered from head to toe in the most beautiful scales she had ever seen. They were bright and sparkly, layered perfectly, one on top of the other, with hints of other colours occasionally twinkling through. It began to transform after twirling its body around, shrinking into a less monstrous form. Its tail was far too long, and it possessed three distinct pairs of fins, but it continued to maintain an almost lamian silhouette with a disproportionate pair of ears.


    Storm Wyrm


    The Storm Wyrm is an ascended lyrkress stubborn enough to weather any blizzard, hurricane, or thunderstorm. Though dimwitted, the average Storm Wyrm is a highly skilled fighter. They are armed with exceptional ability scores and capable of devouring prey that others would think far beyond them, but their hunts are infrequent, for they are often too busy reflecting on days bygone. It is impossible for a Storm Wyrm to go a week without breaking into tears and lamenting the loss of its limbs.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Becoming a Storm Wyrm will reclassify you from humanoid to monster. This change will affect you mentally and cause you to grow more aggressive. Storm Wyrm¡¯s maximum level is 750. This racial class¡¯ evolutions are currently unknown. Storm Wyrm will gain additional bonuses when mastery of its racial traits is achieved.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Slay 500 unique monsters.


    - Endure the power of natural lightning.


    - Spend 24 consecutive hours underwater.


    - Descend from a line with reptilian ancestry.


    - Acquire an ability score total in excess of 15000.


    - Cover 10km of distance in a 24 hour period without the use of any wings or limbs.


    Some of the race¡¯s aspects she certainly found appealing, but the effect on her mind was a red flag at best. She was already plagued by enough; there was no reason to add any more to her plate, so she shook her head and moved on.


    The next candidate was less than half the wyrm¡¯s size. Standing at roughly five meters tall, it was a towering beast with equine and reptilian traits in equal proportions. Its feet were hooved, and its frame resembled that of a massive horse, but it was covered head to toe in armoured scales. From the top of its head sprung a massive lump of true ice, a sharpened horn as long as she was tall, pulsing with the reds indicative of a powerful arcane force.


    Frostblight Qilin Foal


    A foal is a foolish, tiny youngling with an infinite capacity for growth. Frostblight Qilin Foals have bones of true ice, skeletons that can only be broken by the mightiest of blows, but it is precisely this unnatural characteristic that causes them to suffer so greatly. Their health regeneration is greatly reduced, and even the lightest of wounds often take hours to heal. What they lack in durability, they make up for with feats of magic. A qilin¡¯s horn is an unparalleled catalyst, a perfect conductor for the most complex of spells.


    Becoming a Frostblight Qilin Foal will reclassify you from humanoid to beast. Frostblight Qilin Foal¡¯s maximum level is 500. Upon reaching level 500, you will automatically ascend and become a Hoarfrost Qilin, the precise variant of which is determined by your actions and tendencies. Frostblight Qilin Foal will also gain additional bonuses upon physical maturity.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Possess a wisdom score in excess of 5000.


    - Slay a thrice ascended individual prior to racial level 250.


    - Descend from a line of ancestry that features hooves, horns, and scales.


    The massive equine began to change as she read through its description. It shrank down and turned humanoid, taking on a form that somewhat resembled Claire¡¯s first. But while her outline was the same, and her ears still present, she found its horned profile completely unforgivable. Her cheek scales were missing. Her skin was still dotted with the occasional lamella, but the colour was off. They were too blue, not light enough for her to recognize as her own, so she dismissed it as she did the first two options and looked towards her second last.


    Next in line was the largest of her choices. Standing several heads above the storm wyrm, it was a quadrupedal, winged lizard with jagged fangs and a piercing glare. Its legs were like Headhydra¡¯s, longer than expected for its reptilian frame and packed to the brim with muscle. Adding to its total length was a girthy but flexible neck, covered entirely with scales thick enough to ward off even its own talon-like claws. Its head possessed a pair of horns that curved inwards like a ram¡¯s, wrapped perfectly around its massive ears.


    When it transformed, it did so by folding in its wings and shrouding itself in a massive burst of pure magic. A moment later, the raw mana vanished, leaving a humanoid with a pair of spiraling horns, two membraned wings, and a chain-link tail identical to Builledracht¡¯s in all but the true ice of which it was composed. Even without opening the class¡¯ details, she could tell that it was the race the curse god wished for her to select.


    She would have considered it seriously even without his guidance. Its aesthetic was almost perfect, the only one to retain her ears, her cheek scales, and even her slit-eyes. But her spike was gone and her tail too distasteful. It looked more like an accessory than it did a part of her body.


    Ice Dragon Fledgling


    The dragon is a territorial species long lost to time, a rightful embodiment of power, pride, and vanity. Though capable of feats of strength far beyond the norm, they are typically reduced to degenerates that refuse to leave their homes, with many even wallowing in their own filth. Suffering from a chronic lack of motivation, these civilization-felling monsters have found it impossible to integrate, as those that make the attempt often find themselves enjoying neither education, employment, nor training.


    Becoming an Ice Dragon Fledging will reclassify you from humanoid to force of nature. Ice Dragon Fledging¡¯s maximum level is 500. Upon reaching level 500, you will automatically ascend and become an Ice Dragon, the precise variant of which is determined by your actions and tendencies. Additional bonuses will be granted every 50 levels. Even greater bonuses may be gained following acts of widespread destruction.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Destroy a civilization.


    - Descend from a line with reptilian ancestry.


    - Acquire an ability score total in excess of 20000.


    - Travel a minimum of 1000 kilometers by way of flight.


    - Slay two thrice ascended individuals prior to your second ascension.


    A small frown on her lips, Claire turned her head again and looked upon her final option. At a glance, it appeared to be the oddest of the bunch, a sphere of light, blinding raw magic. As she looked more carefully, however, she found that there was something inside, a creature resembling a young girl, perhaps of age seven or eight at most. It was floating in the air with its legs crossed, its eyes closed, and its silvery hair free from gravity¡¯s grasp. It looked almost exactly as Claire did when she was younger, but there was something about it that was unfamiliar, off-putting, and even disturbing. Staring at it filled her with a sense of foreboding for reasons that she could not explain. So she immediately dismissed the idea of becoming a Fragment of the Abyss and turned her eyes back on the three choices that had best caught her interest.


    None immediately jumped out to her the way Frostblight Lyrkress had when she first read through. She was almost tempted to stall, to set the ascension process aside and return to it at a later time. But her gut was telling her that backing out was unlikely to ever result in anything better.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like these choices.¡± Crossing her arms, she looked away from the options and turned to the deities, the guides that were meant to promote her satisfaction. ¡°How do I unlock different ones?¡±


    Flux¡¯s eyes lit up, with her lips curling into a crescent soon after. ¡°Does your foolishness know no bounds, mortal? There is little for you to do but to abide by the system¡¯s rules, so long as you work within its confines.¡± The response was far from positive, but her smile failed to fade.


    It took the lyrkress a few moments of staring to finally realise that none of her options mentioned her divinity, be it explicitly or in passing. The overwhelming power was treated as something that had never existed, both in the options available, and within her status. The line was missing from her menus, scrubbed, even though she could still feel the divine force welling up from within.


    It was no longer concentrated in her shard, but rather diffused through her body. And yet, it was somehow more potent. If what she could store in her shard was five, then she had at least a fifty, perhaps even more coursing through her veins. And it wasn¡¯t just hers that she could control. There was plenty of it all around, spread throughout the environment. Excess raw power, shed by the gods.


    Her body began to glow as she tried to bring it under her control. Focusing on the divine energy provided a sense of omnipotence and authority. She didn¡¯t know how or why she knew the method of its operation, but she found herself controlling it as naturally as she breathed. Her hands reached towards the classes. Not the manifestations before her, but the data that lay within the bounds of her soul. She enveloped them in her divine power and attempted to seize their properties. But that was where she met an impasse.


    She failed to establish her dominance.


    They refused to listen to her. Her commands were being actively rejected. The classes wouldn¡¯t come apart no matter how she tried to tear them. Because they were glowing with divine force, just like her. Only they were brighter, far more powerful than she could have imagined. Someone had placed a protective charm on them, ensuring their order, and her divinity amounted to nothing before their defense.


    There were no cracks, no tiny holes for her power to seep through and exploit. Because what she needed wasn¡¯t the golden light that flooded her surroundings, but Flux¡¯s swirling, crimson darkness.


    It took only the briefest of moments for her holy aura to corrupt. The raw chaos almost felt more natural than her usual divine spark, warmer, friendlier, less likely to tear her body to pieces and assail her with days of pain and suffering. And unlike the golden light, it was capable of serving her purpose.


    The turbulent energy ripped her classes apart, disassembling them and breaking them into tiny pieces. Each trait she wanted, she grabbed and retained. The wyrm¡¯s beautiful, serpentine frame, the qilin¡¯s magical prowess, and the dragon¡¯s overwhelming power. The fragment¡¯s raw magic rushed towards her as well, and though she thought of rejecting it at first, she folded it into her core and accepted its monstrous might. All of them were taken, mushed as one, with the pieces she disliked cast aside and discarded. Somehow, one way or another, she put all of it together. The various pieces of the puzzle slotted in, almost naturally, with chaos filling the gaps. But a problem arose just as she neared completion. It was the system she had finally managed to rein. It began to fight back against the abnormality she had forced.


    Taking only the positives created an imbalance. The world itself was complaining, rejecting the transaction and demanding a counterweight. There was no log, or any other interface, but she could tell that it would eat away at her if she refused to provide it with what it desired. So she paid it every class she had ever rejected. When that wasn¡¯t enough, she sacrificed the digging, sewing, and sneaking skills. But they were only a drop in the bucket.


    She thought for certain that it would be satisfied with all 250 of Alfred¡¯s levels, but it rejected them outright, just as it did the catgirl-related abilities she attempted to purge.


    With no other options remaining, she gave in and relinquished her most valuable acquisition. The tertiary class slot she had hoped to retain was cast into the pot, shoved down the system¡¯s throat and used as fodder. Finally fed enough, the system gave in, yielding to the abomination it had been so unwilling to create.


    A smile crept across Claire¡¯s face. Turning to the gods that were her witnesses, she performed a light curtsy and left the divine realm. There was no need for any more words. Because her business was concluded. Her ascension was already complete.

 Chapter 174 - Forgotten Blood VIII

    Chapter 174 - Forgotten Blood VIII


    ¡°It appears that I¡¯ve won our wager, Flux.¡±


    Builledracht, the god of curses, set down his cup and regarded the goddess of the flow with a calm smile. The number of draconic beings had increased from one to two; he was no longer the last of his species. There was hope that they would rise again.


    ¡°Has that lizard brain of yours finally lost the ability to process the basic facts? You have won nothing.¡±


    But he was not the only one whose confidence had stood strong. Flux was in an equally good mood, and for the exact same reason. She was no longer the only qilin. There had become another, a fresh foal that would soon see the world and grow. And there were three dozen gods to bear witness. Kael¡¯ahruus would find no justification in her pursuit. Though her form was bizarre, she could not be purged, for it was through her own divine power that she had been created.


    ¡°Are you mad, goddess? She¡¯s become a dragon.¡±


    ¡°No, Builledracht, it is you who is mad. She has become a qilin.¡±


    ¡°Have you not seen her form? She is a large winged reptilian with claws, fangs, and a long neck, undoubtedly a dragon.¡±


    ¡°She is a mammal with four limbs, a body of scales, and a horn as massive as her skull. She is clearly a qilin.¡±


    ¡°A horn?¡± The god narrowed his eyes. ¡°What horn?¡± For there was nothing atop her head but the strange ears with which the girl was obsessed.


    ¡°The one sprouting from her chest, of course,¡± said Flux. ¡°Perhaps you should ask Dorr to craft you a pair of glasses.¡±


    ¡°That is not a horn, Flux.¡±


    ¡°False, Builledracht. It does not fail to fit the definition.¡±


    The two deities took a moment to stare each other down, with the dragon eventually bringing a clawed hand to his face and shaking his head. ¡°Let¡¯s just see what the system has to say. Perhaps it will provide us with greater insight.¡±


    ¡°Certainly.¡±


    Either party could very well have tampered with the supposed neutral machine, but they had refrained, not strictly out of pride, but also out of respect. They were not foolish enough to assume that the other would be unable to see through the manipulation. It was precisely through both their outstanding systematic proficiencies that they deprived Claire of her most potent options and forced her to endure their joint trial.


    Flux had long predicted the result of the ascension. The chaotic divinity that Claire had employed was not something she was able to account for, but she had computed the result with all else factored in. She was confident that she was correct, as she so often was when she cast her gaze on events yet to occur, but it was precisely that confidence that drove her to silence.


    Because examining the system¡¯s output had led her to encounter an entry beyond her expectations. She was able to recover quickly enough to customize Claire¡¯s log before it was sent off, but the momentary pause was not one that the dragon had missed. Smirking, the god of curses brought his cup to his lips and took another sip of tea.


    ¡°So? Has she become one of my kind?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No, she has not, you imbecile.¡±


    ¡°Then why the shock?¡±


    ¡°See for yourself.¡±


    She exposed the panel to the other deity, who immediately dropped his porcelain chalice with a twitch of the face. ¡°Where did we go wrong?¡± He scratched his beard and raised his brow. But Flux shared no words, only a shake of the head. For not even the flow of time, and the many predictions that came with it, could provide the faintest of clues.


    ___


    Claire blinked as she slowly craned her neck and panned it around the forest. She had assumed that the process would take only a few minutes, but it was already well into the morning. The sun was almost directly overhead, and the far away trees had their shadows casting close to their roots. Everything, she could make out. But none of it was clear.


    The former lyrkress shook her head and tried to focus her eyes, but they refused to listen. Everything that unblurred would blur again shortly after, no matter how many times she repeated the action. A few dozen attempts later, she gave in and focused instead on the logs echoing through her mind.


    Log Entry 6095


    Your ascension is complete. You have become a Vis Naturae 0x000064fc1a7400df.


    Your class is currently unnamed. You may choose to override the system default of Vis Naturae 0x000064fc1a7400df with whatever you choose. If the default system name is retained, it may be changed by another entity at a later point in time.


    Your eyesight has been greatly enhanced.


    Your base health has increased from 50 to 5000.


    Your base mana has increased from 50 to 15000.


    The first thing she did, upon hearing the goddess¡¯ voice, was stretch her body. Something about it felt strangely unfamiliar. It almost seemed heavy, bulky, like there was too much of it in excess. She was tempted to think that she had suddenly learned to empathize with those unable to fit through the manor¡¯s doors, courtesy of their eating habits. But overly wide, she was not. She could tell, from the way she could so easily step on her own toes. Front, and back.


    Your base health regeneration has increased from 0 to 2000.


    Your base mana regeneration has increased from 0 to 25000.


    All ability scores have been increased by 2000.


    The upper limit of your divinity has increased from 5 to 1500. The change has led to an adjustment to its present value.


    The efficiency of your ability scores has increased.


    It was only as she tried to bring a hand to her face that she realised she had no hands at all, only two pairs of feet, both of which were far, far away. She tried to take a step, but collapsed and fell face-first into the lake in front of her. Everything was wrong. It almost felt like she was walking on stilts, and her dysfunctional eyes only made it more difficult to adjust.


    You have acquired the following skills:


    - Corpus Imperium


    - Realm of Eternal Frost


    Frostblight Lyrkrian Martial Arts, Frostblight Lyrkrian Shapeshifting, and Thermodynamic Regulation have been assimilated into Corpus Imperium. This assimilation has earned you a proficiency bonus.


    Paralyzing Gaze has mutated and become Eyes of the Deep. Additional functionalities have been appended.


    The rate at which you gain experience from training, practice, and rehearsal has been decreased.


    Fortunately, she had retained her submarine abilities. Breathing in the water caused no issues with her lungs, and her sight was unchanged from how it had been on land. The whole world continued to zoom in and out whether she moved her eyes or not. The effect appeared present even when she closed them. One moment, she would see the insides of her eyelids in detail, and the next, there would be nothing but black. It was giving her a headache, and she was unable to determine how she was meant to seize control.


    Adding to the confusion was the growth in her field of view. She could see directly behind her. All it involved was moving her eyes, albeit in a way that felt unnatural. The added dimension threw her for a loop. There was too much for her to pay attention to, and it didn¡¯t feel like she could settle down.


    Stolen story; please report.


    You have been reclassified from humanoid to abyssal horror.


    The change in your race has altered several related traits. You are no longer sterile and you have achieved sexual maturity. This has resulted in several changes to the state of your body.


    Your lifespan has been extended.


    You have been titled the Heir of Forgotten Blood.


    She raised her head from the water when her eyes began to stabilise and finally gazed upon her reflection. It was her first time seeing her own form. Having had no chance to preview it in the realm of the gods, she had no idea as to the final product¡¯s finer details, but she was confident. She had picked all her favourite traits without compromise.


    Claire was expecting to see in the aquatic mirror a beautiful young lady with perfect blue-white locks, bright serpentine eyes, glimmering scales, beautiful, fluffy ears, and a shard of true ice. But what she found instead was a massive reptilian monster.


    It was not as if her requirements were missing. Her shard was still in her chest, her mane was beautiful as a blanket of silk, her ears were larger than ever, and her scales shone with a light that surpassed even the sun¡¯s.


    As far as silhouettes went, she resembled a mishmash of the three classes she had found most appealing. At a glance, her frame was mostly serpentine. Her body was long, muscular, and covered from head to toe in scales. Her size was roughly equal to that of the wyrm¡¯s, but her limbs rendered her a completely different beast. The two at the front ended in talons, while the pair in the rear were hooved. Massive wings sprouted from her back, large enough to support three dozen boats, lined up end to end. But despite their size, they folded up neatly when unused and vanished beneath her scales. Their storage was so efficient that she couldn¡¯t believe them to be purely physical, even though the flow of magic mandated that they were.


    ¡°What am I?¡±


    To the silent observer, the question was the final straw. Breaking into a giggling fit, she began rolling around in the grass whilst clutching her fuzzy stomach.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you pick!? How do you not know what you are!?¡± Still wheezing, Sylvia wiped off her face, which had been riddled with tears following the outburst, and slowly pushed herself off the ground.


    ¡°This class doesn¡¯t have a name,¡± said Claire. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to give it one.¡± Her throat no longer worked the same way it did before. The words were shaped correctly without the use of her tongue, and they remained audible even though she never opened her mouth. Her enunciation itself was still perfect, but it felt like something was off regardless. It was always like the sounds were reverberating, like each was spoken several times, every repetition slightly out of sync.


    ¡°Oh! Mine was like that too, actually,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Want me to name it for you? I think I¡¯m pretty good at it.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°What did you name yours?¡±


    ¡°With the title and everything, it¡¯s Dryadalis Vulpes Regina, Aspect of Chaos and Progenitor of Nightmares.¡±


    ¡°Too long.¡± The absurd moniker was met with an immediate shake of the head. ¡°And I don¡¯t know what my class does yet.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t?¡± blinked the fox. ¡°Then why¡¯d you pick it?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t. I made it.¡±


    ¡°Uhhhh¡­ I don¡¯t know what that¡¯s supposed to mean,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°It means what I said. Now give me a minute. I need to read.¡±


    Vis Naturae 0x000064fc1a7400df


    The unnamed class that you have created is the sort of unnatural chimerical beast often described by drunken troubadours and deranged playwrights. It may be worth investigating if you are being subjected to psychoactive substances without your consent.


    Your maximum level is 500. Details regarding acquisition, bonuses, and further evolutions are unknown. Additional samples are required for further processing.


    Flux offered no meaningful information or advice, a fact that Claire interpreted to mean that she was just as confused.


    Corpus Imperium - Level 17


    Your body is in blatant defiance of the natural order. It possesses traits from a number of different creatures, the majority of which are sexually incompatible, divine interference or not. But as freakish as it is, it remains not without its merits. You have inherited forgotten blood from both the qilin and the dragon, and it is precisely within this skill that their abilities are reflected.


    Effects


    - You are capable of destructive breath attacks.


    - You may freely shift between your various forms.


    - You are highly resistant to heat, cold, and electricity.


    - You are capable of manipulating the extent of your buoyancy.


    - You are capable of deflecting projectiles with your limbs and appendages.


    - Your skeleton, made of true ice, functions as a source of raw elemental power.


    - In combat, your ability scores will be increased proportionally to the amount of havoc wreaked.


    - All combat techniques have been improved, especially those that do not require the use of weaponry.


    - Your physical attacks are imbued with the power of true ice. The damage you deal is increased, especially against those susceptible to the cold.


    Right away, the former lyrkress noticed an anomaly. There were no numbers. None of the newer functionality had any listed, and the older text had all of it removed. A quick scan confirmed that all her other skills had been subjected to the same treatment. Levels aside, all the numeric values had been stripped.


    Log Entry 6096


    You have received a divine revelation:


    The present value of your divinity is now in excess of one hundred. The system is, unfortunately, just as imperfect and inept as you, and therefore no longer capable of providing accurate estimates of the scope of your abilities.


    Stupid useless Box.


    Claire grumbled internally, but quickly moved on and checked another acquisition.


    Eyes of the Deep - Level 32


    Most intelligent creatures regard their friends and compatriots with their eyes filled with kindness. You lack the empathy to understand the purpose in this exercise and see them instead with scorn. This is precisely the reason that you have, against your will, excelled so greatly in charming Alfred¡¯s creations. Perhaps it has come time to reflect upon the manner in which you look upon others.


    Effects


    - You may paralyze an entity by glaring at it.


    - You may freeze a paralyzed entity by continuing to glare at it.


    - Entities that you glare at are more easily unnerved and susceptible to terror.


    Shut up, Box. That¡¯s a sore spot.


    Realm of Eternal Frost


    Ars Magna. A trump card far beyond your means, the bestowment of which has baffled every member of the pantheon that observed your ascension. Using this ability is ill advised. You lack the tranquility of mind to control it.


    Effects


    - Creates a domain imbued with the power of true ice.


    - Provides an understanding of all natural disasters as defined by the system.


    Though it sounded rather powerful, the skill¡¯s description made little in the way of sense. All she effectively understood was that it was difficult to control. The rest, she dismissed as more of the goddess¡¯ ramblings. She was tempted to test it immediately, but set the thought aside. There were more important matters at hand; her aesthetic had yet to be fully examined.


    Taking a breath, she activated Corpus Imperium and ordered her body to change. There were no levers in the back of her mind, like there had been before. It was a more freeform process, and somehow, she just seemed to know all the various things that she could become. She had four main bodies, and could adjust the extent that each was represented. There was her current form, one closer to her lyrkrian form, one that was mostly humanoid, and one that caught her completely off guard.


    Though she had taken only a single trait from the class, her bizarre childlike form was present alongside the others. And because it had become a part of her, she found herself with an understanding of why it had put her off.


    Her irises had no pupils. They were completely empty. And the eyes resting upon her face were only two of the many scattered across her body. They were hidden beneath her skin, waiting to open the moment she gave the command. In a way, it almost reminded her of the frog, of the countless faces that dotted its tongue.


    Shaking her head and purging the thought, she assumed the most lyrkrian shape. It wasn¡¯t quite the same. Her front legs had become draconic claws, and her rear flippers turned to hooved legs. Her tail was three times as long, and lined with several sets of fins. She didn¡¯t dislike it, but it took up far too much space and threw her proprioception for a loop. She was having trouble keeping track of all the different parts of her body, just as she had in her true form.


    With another breath, she discarded as many of her monstrous traits as she could and turned as humanoid as she could. For the most part, her outward appearance was the same, with the only differences being the fins attached to her ankles and the massive tail that extended from her rear. Even at its smallest, it was well over two and a half meters long.


    Lifting the appendage to her face, she tilted her head and slowly looked it over. It was certainly every bit as plump and beautiful as her mother¡¯s, but she suspected that it would only get in the way. Sitting in a closed back chair would no longer be in the cards. In such a case, she would have to either let the fluffy brush dangle or keep it curled up behind her. Neither option was acceptable, one was rude, and the other extremely uncomfortable.


    ¡°Are you done yet?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°For now,¡± responded the not-lyrkress. She was pleased to find that the reverberations were gone post-transformation. Her voice had returned to sounding as it always had. ¡°I think I know what to name this class.¡±


    ¡°Oh, me too actually!¡± The fox stood up on her hind legs, placed her hands on her hips, and puffed up her chest with pride. ¡°I¡¯ve got a really nice one. It¡¯s super cool and super cute at the same time. It¡¯s not too long either!¡±


    Claire picked up the fuzzy critter with her tail and scratched her chin. ¡°Okay. Then you first.¡±


    ¡°Frosty Longmoose!¡±


    Log Entry 6097


    Vis Naturae 0x000064fc1a7400df has been designated Frosty Longmoose.


    Claire could only blink as the process was suddenly completed. Instinctively, she knew that there was no turning back. Sylvia¡¯s ridiculous suggestion had been etched directly into the system.


    ¡°Stupid fox.¡±


    The insult was all she could manage as she brought a hand to her face and silently bid her own much better idea farewell.

 Chapter 175 - Beneath the Fractured Moon

    Chapter 175 - Beneath the Fractured Moon


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ Claire?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± The fox¡¯s question was met with a discontent huff.


    ¡°Can you let go of my face already?¡± Sylvia¡¯s words were distorted, no doubt in part because her cheeks had grown three full inches in either direction, but the frosty longmoose found them intelligible regardless. Quite the impressive feat, on both their parts.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Pretty please? Come on! I don¡¯t even know why you¡¯re mad!¡±


    ¡°Yes. You do.¡±


    The fox averted her eyes as soon as she was made the subject of the unamused stare. ¡°Okay, fine, maybe I do, but you shouldn¡¯t be! Frosty Longmoose is a great name!¡±


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yes it is!¡±


    ¡°No. It. Isn¡¯t.¡±


    Still grumbling, the pet abuser breathed another tired sigh and set the fox down atop a floating bubble. ¡°I was supposed to be an abyssal hoarfrost scalewarden.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! That doesn¡¯t even sound like a race.¡± The fox pressed her cheeks back into their rightful positions and lightly massaged them with her paws. ¡°I bet the system would¡¯ve rejected it anyway. And plus, didn¡¯t you say that you didn¡¯t like mine because of how long it was? Abyssal horcrux whatever is even longer!¡±


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Only because you¡¯re counting my titles!¡±


    ¡°Shush.¡± Claire reached for her four-legged companion again, but pulled her into her chest instead of assaulting her cheeks.


    It was only as she pressed her face into the back of the fox¡¯s head that she realised her body had changed. And not just because she had grown a tail. She didn¡¯t need to retract her shard as far to ensure the fuzzy critter¡¯s safety because her chest was no longer perfectly flat. There were instead a pair of mounds of a size within the regular range, and her runecloak had adjusted to compensate, even without her input.


    ¡°Wait a second! What the heck happened to your chest!?¡± She wasn¡¯t the only one to notice. The fox, who had suddenly found it a lot harder to breathe than usual, crawled a few inches higher and rested her head on the freshly grown platform.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Claire, with a frown.


    She didn¡¯t dislike the aesthetic; it brought her appearance closer in line with her mother¡¯s, but she was concerned that they would get in the way. It was a common complaint that she had heard from many of the female fighters in her father¡¯s service, especially those that wielded heavier weapons like halberds and two-handed swords. They, however, were pure-blooded centaurs, with chests as large as their heads. Her breasts were more modest and unlikely to lead to the associated struggles.


    ¡°Oh well,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I guess it¡¯s comfier this way, so whatever.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I have them in my other form anyways. So it shouldn¡¯t matter.¡± Though she could picture herself in her mind, the lyrkress transformed just to confirm. Surely enough, her most draconic body plan was completely devoid of the distinctly feminine structures.


    ¡°Wait! Where¡¯d your clothes go?¡± Appearing atop the draco-qilin¡¯s head, the half-dog paced back and forth, carefully inspecting the much larger girl¡¯s body from within the mane that ran the length of her neck.


    ¡°Here.¡± Claire lifted a leg and revealed the cloak held within her talons. It transformed a moment later, when she gave the command for it to turn into a massive mantle, large enough to shroud her entire twenty-meter-long frame.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ is there really even a point in that?¡± asked the fox. ¡°All it does is make you look even more conspicuous, and it¡¯s not like you need to cover up.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire. ¡°I just wanted to try it.¡± She shrank the cloak again, turning it into a pair of silvery accessories that sat atop her ears. They were crafted to look just like the ones she so often wore to balls and other public events, intricate and expensive, but not so fancy that they would steal attention away from the princes and princesses.


    ¡°Do you wanna go back? I told Boris and Lia that you were gonna be out ¡®cause you were ascending, but I think they¡¯re expecting us back by now.¡±


    ¡°In a bit.¡± Claire took a deep breath. ¡°I need to get used to my body first.¡±


    Though her eyes were no longer blurry, something about their behaviour was still off the mark. Her field of view would distort whenever she focused on an object. She could still see everything in her vicinity, but the target and its surroundings would be magnified as well. It was like she had another eye much closer to whatever she wished to behold.


    Practicing on some of the fish beneath the lake¡¯s surface, she found that while the magnification speed remained somewhat haphazard, her use of the ability did eventually improve. It was difficult, but she managed to shut out enough information for the world to become something more than just a canvas of blown-up images.


    Walking proved just as difficult. It took a certain degree of focus to stay upright, though the amount required shrank with each continued repetition. Strolling along the shore required far more effort than she had expected. Swimming and flying both came much more naturally. She had no trouble navigating the world beneath the waves, nor the one suspended above it. Because air and water were both fluids, and the necessary adjustments to her buoyancy therein provided perfect control of her height. Flapping her wings aided in remaining stable, and her vector magic did the rest.


    Once relatively adjusted to the basics, she landed back on the ground and curled into a large mound, her head resting atop her soft, silken tail. It was a brief respite that would last maybe a few minutes at most. She knew that she was going to have to engage in combat for a more thorough examination.


    It was with that thought that she finally turned her eyes on her status and spent the 250 levels that Alfred had left her. She was tempted to dump them all into her racial class and immediately follow her second ascension with a third, but a moment of thought saw the foolish idea dismissed. She had racked up a grand total of zero notable achievements in the thirty-odd minutes she spent toying around with her new body; there were unlikely to be any options as potent as the ones present during her second, and her fourth slot could not be allowed to meet the same fate as her third.


    Adding to her reluctance was the manner in which her levels were skewed. Most fighters had their racial classes lagging far behind their others, and none of her acquaintances had been exceptions to the rule. Natalya, she had long marked as a blademaster, a swordsman above level 500 with a focus on technique, and Sylvia had outright stated that her racial class was barely half the level of her highest. Nymphetel, she knew to be in a similar boat, and the same appeared true for Zelos and his half-dead entourage. Being a monster, Boris was the only exception. He, like Claire, derived most of his power by investing heavily in his race.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    It was not an incorrect choice, but she disliked the idea of having all her eggs in the same basket. Losing her third class slot had robbed her of an increase in utility, and focusing heavily on a single set of strengths would undoubtedly expose its weaknesses as well.


    Of the 250 levels, only 1 was put into her racial class, so she could determine the number of points it gave, while 120 were poured into her primary class, and the rest into her secondary.


    Log Entry 6099


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been restored and all harmful status effects have been cleansed.


    Your racial class, Frosty Longmoose, has reached level 251.


    Your primary class, Llystletein Essencethief, has reached level 349.


    Your secondary class, Cloudburst Sorceress, has reached level 332.


    You have gained 8344 ability points.


    Claire scrunched up her face as she tried to work through the mental math. She gave up soon after she started and scribbled the calculation in the mud instead. After a few attempts, to double, triple, and quadruple check her less-than-consistent result, she came to the conclusion that it gave a flat 100 points per level, far more than she had expected.


    All the points she acquired were immediately spent. She poured about a thousand into spirit and vitality, because she doubted she would be able to evade much with her true form as large as it was, and roughly split the rest between everything but wisdom.


    ¡°Okay. I¡¯m done.¡± The sudden dramatic change left her body feeling even more foreign than it already was, but she turned her eyes to the fox on her snout regardless. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Boris and Lia were still waiting, and she would have plenty of time to experiment, once they got to spelunking.


    ___


    ¡°There you are!¡±


    When the pair stepped out of the portal and onto the beach, with both in their humanoid forms, they found themselves greeted by an angry cat. Both her hands were on her hips, her tail was standing straight up, and her face was marred with an obvious frown.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been looking for you two all day. Where were you?¡±


    The question, of course, prompted Claire to cast a suspicious glare in the fox¡¯s direction. ¡°I thought you told her that I was going to ascend.¡±


    ¡°I did!¡± said the two-legged catdog in protest. ¡°I made her dream about it.¡±


    As a totally reasonable person and the local authority on lucid dreams, the former lyrkress turned her eyes back to the Paunsean swordsman. The cold look tensed the cat¡¯s nerves; she took half a step back before shaking her head and stepping forward again.


    ¡°W-why are you looking at me!? She¡¯s the one being unreasonable.¡±


    ¡°Dreams are reasonable.¡±


    The cat blinked a few times before lifting her glasses and rubbing her nose. ¡°Even if dreams are reasonable, which I should add, they aren¡¯t, the dream I had was definitely not.¡±


    ¡°Huh? What do you mean? It was perfectly reasonable!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I made you dream that we were going away and coming back with Claire ascended.¡±


    ¡°Then why was she a giant talking tomato?¡±


    ¡°H-huh? A tomato?¡± The fox tilted her head. ¡°Why did you dream that she was a tomato?¡±


    ¡°I should be the one asking you that! You¡¯re the one that made it!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I didn¡¯t add anything about a tomato! I just made you dream that she would come back ascended! If you dreamed up a tomato then that just means you think Claire was gonna become a tomato when she ascended.¡±


    ¡°That makes no sense,¡± grumbled the cat.


    ¡°Yeah, I know, right?¡± said the fox.


    After flipping back and forth with each rebuttal, Claire¡¯s cold stare eventually settled on their feline companion. ¡°I¡¯m not a tomato.¡±


    ¡°I know you¡¯re not,¡± said Lia. ¡°Trust me, I¡¯m just as confused as you are.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m an abyssal hoarfrost scalewarden.¡±


    ¡°What the heck, Claire!¡± The claim was met with a dissatisfied tug of the sleeve. ¡°Use the super cool name I gave you! Not whatever that lame thing is!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not lame.¡± Claire averted her eyes and offered no further comment, so Sylvia stepped forward and puffed up her chest, the detailed effects of which differed starkly from when she was just a fox.


    ¡°She ended up with an unknown class and let me name it. So now she¡¯s a frosty longmoose.¡±


    The proclamation was followed immediately by a stifled laugh. ¡°That¡¯s a great name.¡± Natalya choked out the words as she tried her best not to giggle. To no avail. ¡°Congratulations, Claire.¡±


    Averting her eyes, the former lyrkress bent over, lifted the lizard that had been silently listening in, and strapped him to her back. ¡°Enough about me. Let¡¯s go. It¡¯s dungeon time.¡±


    Natalya met the suggestion with a grimace, ¡°Right, about that,¡± and pointed a finger at the half-destroyed boat parked on the beach. ¡°I think we¡¯re going to need a new boat first. I won¡¯t be able to fight in any of the more watery parts without it.¡±


    ¡°Then don¡¯t. Wait with Sylvia while I handle them.¡±


    ¡°I know you¡¯ve just ascended, but that¡¯d mean leaving you to do over half the dungeon by yourself. We should go back to town, get a sturdier ship, and maybe a larger party,¡± Natalya flipped through her book and ran the back of a quill down a particularly jam-packed page. ¡°The Spiraling Abyss isn¡¯t the sort of dungeon we can plough through without a plan. It doesn''t have floors, and is generally unsafe because high level monsters can come out of nowhere. I was only okay with us exploring a little because I assumed we were going to leave once you finished ascending.¡±


    ¡°Then we can fight around the entrance,¡± said Claire. ¡°I need to test my new abilities.¡±


    ¡°We can do that without the dungeon. One of the nearby reefs is a known danger zone. I think my master said that their levels go as high as 300.¡±


    ¡°Oh wait, I know!¡± Sylvia raised a paw. ¡°If the problem is that she can¡¯t fight without standing on something, then how about you let her ride you? Then she can stay on top of the water, while you blow up all the stuff beneath it.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± said Claire. She pinched the fox girl¡¯s nose with one hand and covered her mouth with the other.


    ¡°Mmmrrrmph!¡±


    ¡°I know you can¡¯t breathe. That¡¯s the point.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna have to let her ride you eventually anyway! We¡¯re not getting back to town otherwise with the boat the way it is.¡± A phantom shaped just like the half-elf¡¯s vulpine form appeared atop her head and chattered away. ¡°Oh, and can you please let go of me already? I¡¯m starting to get kinda dizzy.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    Releasing the two-legged vixen, Claire breathed a sigh and headed away from the shore. ¡°I¡¯m going to bid Kal¡¯syr farewell. We can go to the reef when I¡¯m done.¡±


    ___


    Claire


    Health: 62620/62620


    Mana: 264320/264320


    Divinity: 137/137


    Health Regen: 12.6/second


    Mana Regen: 70.2/second


    Divinity Regen: 13.7/hour


    Ability Scores - 0 Points Available


    - Agility: 6681


    - Dexterity: 6186


    - Spirit: 4192


    - Strength: 6804


    - Vitality: 4830


    - Wisdom: 12000


    Racial Class: Frosty Longmoose - Level 251.00


    - Corpus Imperium - Level 18.01


    - Eyes of the Deep - Level 32.16


    - Realm of Eternal Frost


    - True Ice Manipulation - Level 57.60


    Primary Class: Llystletein Essencethief - Level 349.00


    - Catgirl Detector V. 1.00 - Level 8.04


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 18.17


    - Death¡¯s Dance - Level 34.13


    - Essencethief - level 21.70


    - Envenom - Level 41.01


    - Phantom Blade - Level 37.94


    Secondary Class: Cloudburst Sorceress - Level 332.00


    - Force Resistance - Level 10.33


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 23.16


    - Spirit Sorcery - Level 47.19


    - Vector Manipulation II - Level 24.99


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 6


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority++ - Level 13.85


    - Marish - Level 19.13


    - Singing - Level 1.72


    - Weapon Mastery - Level 27.43

 Chapter 176 - Beneath the Fractured Moon II

    Chapter 176 - Beneath the Fractured Moon II


    Crushing the deer-sized head of a six-clawed lobster with one of her talons, Claire twisted her body and evaded a large but harmless ball of fire. The assailant, a man dressed in white robes, clicked his tongue and readied his wand for another shot, but she paralyzed him before he could follow through.


    ¡°Go away. I¡¯m not a monster.¡±


    It was already her third time repeating the line. The reef they visited was a popular hunting ground, and though Natalya had claimed it dangerous, they found a group of locals at almost every turn. Most of them were weaklings¡ªlikely level 100 at most¡ªand few were out of their depth. None of the level 300 monsters that Lia had described were anywhere to be found, even after a high-speed, two hour exploration of the shoal and its surroundings.


    What they did find, however, were ambush hunters in the dozens. Claire¡¯s less-than-humanoid form had led many an adventurer to attack on sight. Most of those that spotted her had assumed that she was a monster, even with a cat and two animals riding atop her head, and for good reason. The reef¡¯s wildlife was of a similar size, and her silhouette was not entirely distinguishable from that of an overgrown sea serpent.


    ¡°We should¡¯ve gone spelunking.¡± She had intended to speak under her breath, but both the girls sitting on her head heard her loud and clear. In her largest form, she found it much more difficult to keep her volume to a minimum. The opposite, however, she could do with ease.


    ¡°Sorry.¡± Toying with her hair, Natalya could offer nothing but an awkward smile.


    One of the first groups to attack had apologized profusely and even followed by providing an update to the cat¡¯s half-baked intel. According to their account, all of the higher leveled monsters that previously inhabited the hunting ground had been wiped out by a particularly talented swordsman several years prior. Since then, Redbloom Reef had become a place for those that were seeking foes with levels in the higher double digits.


    Though frustrated, Claire had decided against leaving. The reef was halfway between the city and the dungeon, and there was no reason to put in the extra travel time if all she wanted to do was test her abilities. And it was precisely that mentality that led many of the region¡¯s wildlife to experience the worst of days. As it turned out, the overgrown creatures made for excellent moving targets. The reef would have made for a fine sandbox, if not for the pesky adventurers that assumed her one of its many mindless beasts.


    Lia was the only reason that they all still lived. The catgirl would always step in either as they were assaulted, or right before it happened, and explain that they were a group of adventurers. And each time, attackers had backed down, with most concluding that the longmoose was the catgirl¡¯s familiar. They would often discuss her accessories as they departed, noting that it was impossible to have custom-made jewelry if one was not a rich veteran. As the rumours spread, they began to encounter parties that went out of their way to seek them, with many showering the catgirl with looks of jealousy or admiration. Truly an admirable feat for a useless log incapable of functioning beneath the waves.


    The many conversations and discussions only served to annoy the supposed tamed beast. She saw no reason for them to think that the catgirl was her master, and was nothing if not insulted by the assumption that the ability to speak was her most outstanding trait. She failed to understand how or why they were missing her ears, especially when they were highlighted by her jewelry.


    Though all of the intermediate steps were filled with mild annoyances, Claire found the session as a whole to be rather successful. No longer did she feel shackled by the strange form, nor the strange eyes that accompanied it. Killing things helped her adapt quickly, and corpus imperium had even improved along the way. For how powerful and comprehensive the skill appeared, it leveled at a fairly rapid pace, gaining one in each of the hours she spent crushing the region¡¯s wildlife underfoot.


    Headhydra aside, the only ability she didn¡¯t test was the one that arrived covered in red tape, but not because she took Flux¡¯s warnings to heart. Her reluctance sprang from the same feeling that had put her off from the last of her five choices. A wave of dread pulsed through her mind each time she thought about activating it. Something about it put her off, and she had no intention of determining what that thing happened to be. Still, despite the lack of completion, and all the minor inconveniences they encountered along the way, she was willing to conclude the voyage a success.


    In the end, they were attacked a grand total of seventeen times, with eleven of the groups immediately apologizing, and subsequently getting off scot-free, and the other six suffering from some light punishment. None of the attackers were brought to death¡¯s door; the worst Claire did was repeatedly smash a particularly self-righteous grug with her tail. The cat-eared frog in question wound up with half a dozen broken ribs, both arms completely bent out of shape, and some light mental trauma. Natalya insisted that the longmoose had gone too far, but Claire and Sylvia were both confident in the scalewarden¡¯s judgement. The wounds themselves would take no longer than a few hours to heal, and the mental scars were his just desserts. There was no crime worse than insulting a fair maiden¡¯s ears, after all.


    ¡°I really think you should transform before we get any closer to the city,¡± Natalya voiced the suggestion as she set her eyes on the magical dome that spanned the horizon. The sun was already setting, and Sylvia aside, everyone¡¯s stomach was rumbling.


    They were still a few minutes away from the settlement, but Claire¡¯s largest form was anything but stealthy. Many of the other travelers were alarmed by the speed at which she shot through the water, and the coastguard had already stopped her twice. Fortunately, they were much more reasonable than the adventurers, with neither group attacking before first attempting a conversation.


    ¡°Claire? Slow down. Claire!¡±


    ¡°I heard you the first time.¡± The living boat continued to accelerate. Twisting her body back and forth, she zig-zagged through the water like a lightning bolt through the air. Though she was tempted to continue and enjoy the sensation of the waves crashing behind her scales, she knew that the catgirl was right. She was already drawing far too much attention. ¡°Take a breath. A deep one.¡± Sylvia and Boris did as instructed, but Natalya did not immediately comply.


    ¡°What for?¡±


    ¡°Just do it. Trust me.¡±


    Though a little hesitant at first, she eventually nodded and sucked in a lungful of air, with Claire diving into the depths soon after. She beelined straight towards a large rocky formation and turned humanoid. She didn¡¯t slow down, not during the transformation, nor when she donned her runecloak. For a moment, it almost looked like the others would be left behind, but she grabbed ahold of them with her vectors and pulled them along, surfacing some five hundred meters away from where they first dove.


    ¡°That was fun!¡± cheered Sylvia. Completely soaked to the bone, the wet dog was hardly recognizable. Her features were completely deformed by the way her fur stuck to her skin.


    ¡°I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest.¡± The catgirl was less excited. She was gasping for air, a hand against her breast as she kept herself afloat by clinging to Boris. ¡°Could you please give me a little more warning next time?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll think about it.¡± Smirking mischievously, Claire slowly rose out of the water, a pair of large wings sprouting from her back soon after. ¡°Now let¡¯s go. We¡¯ll fly the rest of the way.¡±


    With a twitch of the ears and a discontent frown, the cat turned only her eyes to face her lyrkrian tormentor. ¡°Do we have to?¡±


    ¡°I think so,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°You won¡¯t be able to breathe if we enter the city from underwater.¡±


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    The dive had granted all four of the party¡¯s members a perfect view of the aquatic district in question. In terms of overall square mileage, it was roughly the same size as its above-ground counterpart, but its verticality provided it with many times the livable space. Some of the buildings even went down into the underwater gorges, while others went well above the sea. The most expensive-looking properties included small islands, be they natural or magically crafted.


    ¡°How do you breathe underwater, Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t! I just use a bubble.¡± The fox stopped treading water shortly after speaking the sentence out loud and slowly sank with a paw pressed against her forehead. ¡°I can just put you in a bubble too, can¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I was thinking,¡± said Lia.


    A large, magical sphere enveloped everyone but Claire and took the group beneath the waves. ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m not used to helping, so I just¡­ kinda forget.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, I forget some of my abilities sometimes too,¡± said Lia, with a troubled smile.


    Though the catgirl appeared quite content with how things turned out, the fox soon found her cheeks seized. Claire had snuck into the bubble behind her, with her face sporting a blank stare.


    ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah?¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you do this when I said I wanted to go dungeon diving?¡±


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ oops?¡± She stuck out her tongue and nervously laughed as she prepared for the incoming abuse of her cheeks, but no such event came to occur. She instead found herself wrapped up in the lyrkress¡¯ arms, tail and all.


    ¡°Stupid fox.¡±


    ¡°Hey! That¡¯s mean! And you really need to stop sending me so many mixed messages! I can¡¯t tell if you¡¯re mad or not!¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not mixed. They¡¯re obvious.¡± She lightly booped the vixen¡¯s nose before finally releasing her and directing her eyes towards the catgirl. ¡°Right, Lia?¡±


    It took a moment for the catgirl to nod. ¡°Y-yeah.¡± She had expected the two to exclude her, as they always did, whenever they went about their shenanigans.


    ¡°See?¡± She stuck a tail outside the bubble and propelled it forward as she toyed with the fox. ¡°Even the dumb cat agrees.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean anything! She only agreed because she was confused!¡±


    ¡°No she didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yes she did!¡±


    Claire rested her chin on the fox¡¯s head as she turned to the feline in question. ¡°Lia, agree again.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t do it Lia! She¡¯s just trying to use you to be mean to me!¡±


    With both gazes on her, the catgirl could do little but bring a hand to her lips and giggle. ¡°You two are so silly.¡± Half leaping forward, she tackled the other two and wrapped her arms around them both.


    ¡°Let go. Pervert.¡±


    ¡°In a second.¡±


    She only tightened the embrace, even as her face was subjected to a claw-like grip.


    ___


    Most of the buildings that populated the underwater streets were made of either glass or coral, with the latter more popular around the city¡¯s center. Though the bubble provided the party¡¯s less-than-aquatic members with the ability to breathe, they opted against dining in one of the many underwater establishments. The air they imprisoned beneath the surface got in the way of other people moving through the bustling metropolis. Outdoors, it wasn¡¯t much of a problem. Anyone that wanted to avoid them could easily swim over their heads. But the same could not be done as easily with a roof taking up the necessary space.


    The late lunch they enjoyed was one of piping hot meat and vegetables, dishes that they were unable to enjoy during the brief time they spent away from dry land. And though Claire found little value in the less-than-delicious meal itself, she derived some degree of enjoyment in the company that came with it.


    When they exited the restaurant and walked along Vel¡¯khagan¡¯s main, land-locked street, they found the crowd outside with its attention focused on a single point. There was a large flying ship hovering just beyond the city gates, its hull armed with cannons, and its deck with manned guns. The flag flying above it was distinct from all the others that dotted the city. A foreign coat of arms.


    ¡°What is that?¡± Natalya¡¯s eyes opened wide as she gazed upon the vessel. The very same reaction shared by most of those around her. Claire and Sylvia were the only exceptions, the former because she was well accustomed to the sight, and the latter because she knew very little about what lay beyond Llystletein¡¯s boundaries. To her, everything was just as novel. ¡°It almost looks like¡­¡± The cat began flipping through her notebook, stopping at a page with a sketch of a landmass with a small tower planted thereon. ¡°It almost looks like a Cadrian warship.¡±


    ¡°It is,¡± said Claire. ¡°Carrier class. Likely belongs to a count, or maybe a marquis.¡±


    The oversized object in question was three times the size of an ascended turberus. The veritable mountain was shaped like an upside-down pyramid, with its bottom a single point and a stone fortress built atop its triangular base. For a Cadrian warship, its size was average, covering less than half the area consumed by each of the three ducal houses floating above Valencia. Its barrier device was much weaker and generated only a tiny shield capable of guarding only the ship itself, a tradeoff that came hand in hand with an increase in mobility. Its magical drive was configured as an engine, and it was capable of flying at a pace of almost fifty kilometers an hour when its guns were inactive.


    There were a number of soldiers, mostly winged centaurs, standing at attention in front of the manor, armed with spears and shieldlances in tandem.


    ¡°No. Not again.¡± Natalya brought a shaky hand to her rapier and gulped, but a tail to the cheek stopped her from drawing her blade.


    ¡°Calm down. They would have attacked already. If that was what they were here for.¡±


    Vel¡¯khagan¡¯s barrier powered down as the vessel approached, not whirring back to life again until the ship was well within city limits. A surefire sign that the visit was anything but unexpected.


    ¡°Right.¡± The catgirl took a series of deep breaths before shaking her head. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Shrugging, the lyrkress grabbed the cat by the shoulders and tried to relocate her, but her feet stayed firmly planted.


    ¡°Can we go check it out?¡± Turning her head, Natalya gave Claire a shaky stare. She was clearly still nervous.


    ¡°Oh, that sounds fun!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°We should totally sneak on board and see if we can steal it.¡±


    ¡°Stealing it would be going a bit far.¡± Lia fiddled with her tail and put on a nervous smile. ¡°I just want to make sure Vel¡¯khagan isn¡¯t going to suddenly turn into a warzone.¡±


    The party¡¯s resident Cadrian paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath before starting to speak. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. Carriers aren¡¯t very durable. They resist magic, but physical attacks can tear right through them, and the troops don¡¯t look particularly well-trained.¡± She glanced at the soldiers. ¡°They¡¯re only twice ascended.¡±


    Naturally, the claim was met with suspicion. Lia¡¯s eyes shifted, and her body stiffened. ¡°Claire, who are you? And why do you know so much about the Cadrian military? Their secrets are supposed to be incredibly well-guarded.¡± Shrugging off the lyrkress¡¯ grasp, she took a few steps back and placed her hand on her sword. ¡°You aren¡¯t one of them are you?¡±


    Their eyes met. One pair was cold, its icy gaze dotted with only a tiny hint of annoyance. The other was watery, trembling and uncertain. Filled with distrust.


    ¡°I am not a part of the Cadrian military. And I never have been.¡± Claire heaved a sigh. She had known that it was better to keep her mouth shut. But she had allowed herself to ramble regardless. ¡°Stop worrying.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Claire¡¯s too derpy to be a part of any milit¡ªow!¡± A flick to the forehead stopped the fox before she could finish her sentence. ¡°What the heck!?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not derpy.¡±


    ¡°Yes you are!¡±


    ¡±No. I¡¯m not.¡±


    Her rapid breathing slowing gradually, the catgirl took her hand off her blade and straightened her back.


    ¡°Right¡­ yeah. I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, as she pressed a hand to her forehead. ¡°There¡¯s no way you of all people would be ex-military.¡± She took a deep breath before continuing in a murmur. ¡°I don¡¯t think you have the common sense for it.¡±


    The final statement was only meant for herself, but it was heard loud and clear, with retaliation following soon after in the form of a tail-jab to the face.


    ¡°Enough about me,¡± said Claire. ¡°Let¡¯s go. To the job board. So we can find something to do.¡±

 Chapter 177 - Beneath the Fractured Moon III

    Chapter 177 - Beneath the Fractured Moon III


    Claire¡¯s group was not the only one whose focus had been stolen by the Cadrian warship. Every street was packed with people, and the canals were hardly any different. Those that filled the various buildings had gathered outside to get a better look at the unidentified flying object floating through the city. Foot traffic was effectively at a standstill, and any that took to the air, and subsequently blocked the view, were jeered at, insulted, and dragged back down to the earth or water.


    Most of the crowd spoke in whispers. The individual voices were quiet and hardly detectable, but when put together, they formed a wave of sound loud enough to disrupt a casual conversation. It was a feedback loop with the volume growing with time, spiralling out of control as the locals struggled to convey their thoughts to those beside them.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on? And what is that?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Rak¡¯cille might know. Anyone see her?¡±


    ¡°Right, her husbands were with the guards!¡±


    ¡°No idea where she is, but I heard someone say it was Cadrian!¡±


    ¡°Cadrian? What the hell is a Cadrian?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re the warmongers up north, you dumbass!¡±


    Claire tried listening in on the conversations nearby, but failed to pick up on anything worth noting. The townsfolk were just as confused as she was, and the guards hardly knew any better. Though they shouted for the crowd to stay calm, they offered no answers when asked for more information, with many of their members openly remarking that they hadn¡¯t the slightest clue as to the status quo. That particular claim did little in the way of calming the crowd, but neither did it incite any hysteria.


    The few worried citizens were silenced with the affirmation that the queen would have made an announcement had they any reason to panic. While Claire thought the assumption rather absurd, the crowd bought it like candy and dispersed as quickly as it formed; each individual returned to his or her daily lives satisfied after exchanging a few remarks and speculations with their friends and neighbours.


    Once the roadblock was out of the way, the group was quick to arrive at its final destination. Vel¡¯khagan¡¯s job board was nothing like Vel¡¯rulm¡¯s. The number of listings available differed by at least two orders of magnitude and the structure had been adjusted to accommodate the seemingly countless tasks. It was made of several slabs of a dark shiny stone as opposed to the wood employed by its less-popular cousin, and its requests were not posted on pages of parchments, but written with a magical, waterproof chalk.


    The stones were sorted based on the categories of work they covered, with their titles engraved directly into their centers. There was one for menial household tasks, one for military recruitment, one for acquiring rare goods, and even one expressly labeled ¡°Adults Only.¡± There were at least a dozen different categories in all, and sorting through them was a pain in and of itself.


    Not wanting to devote any unnecessary brainpower, Claire began wandering towards the bounty board, which covered requests for monsters, bandits, and missing children in kind¡ªany individual that happened to have a cash prize for their live capture¡ªa stark contrast from the otherwise similar requests listed on its neighbour.


    ¡°The investigation is going well. Unfortunately, I cannot disclose any further details as you are not my direct superior.¡±


    ¡°That is certainly a fair point. It would not do for us to violate any military regulations, after all.¡±


    A pair of familiar voices caught Claire¡¯s attention before she could reach the stone. Turning just her eyes towards its source, she spotted Nymphetel standing in a nearby alley, accompanied by both his skeletal companion and a centaur with a distinct, pencil-thin beard.


    ¡°Claire? Why¡¯d you suddenl¡ªow!¡±


    The catgirl following behind her began to protest, but she was quickly silenced with a flick. Putting a finger to her lips, Claire pointed one of her ears in the elf¡¯s direction and signalled with the other for the feline to follow.


    Silently, they walked through the crowd, stopping just in front of the narrow side street with their backs to the wall and their ears peeled. Lia tried peering around the corner, but a magical pull reeled her back before she could give them away.


    Log Entry 6326


    You have acquired the Sneaking skill.


    The cat made a number of impatient gestures, but the halfbreeds ignored her protests and used only their ears to spy.


    ¡°Need I inform the general of any key news on your behalf?¡± The centaur scratched his exposed belly as he spoke, his nails digging against the curly patch joining the hair on his two chests.


    ¡°I appreciate the offer, but I¡¯ve already sent word,¡± said Nymphetel. ¡°He is already aware of everything likely to hold his interest.¡±


    ¡°Excellent. If you are already so close to completing your mission, would you like to consider joining us on ours? I am sure that the men would be overjoyed to bask in the beauty of a woman as appealing as yourself.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, Sir Pollux, I will have to refuse. The foe that I have been charged with eliminating is currently beyond my means, and I must make the necessary preparations.¡±


    ¡°That would be all the more reason to join us.¡± Claire could practically hear Pollux¡¯s sneer. The old conniving marquis knew that he had the elf in check. ¡°The local queen has been kind enough to commission us to perform an initial sweep of an unexplored dungeon on her behalf. It is said that the monsters are rather fearsome, powerful enough to render her knights defeated. It will be excellent practice for one such as yourself.¡±


    Nymphetel could only frown as he cast an eye at his companion, but alas, the skeleton¡¯s face was unreadable. ¡°Understood, Sir Pollux. Thank you kindly for the offer. We will be accompanying your team.¡± Claire could tell that he was unhappy with the result of the negotiation, but knew not how he was meant to deny the old stallion, a thought that brought a small smile to her face. ¡°We¡¯re staying at the Drunken Dryad. Send word of the date of departure, and we¡¯ll ensure that we join up with you in short order.¡±


    Knowing that the conversation was coming to a close, Claire stepped away from the alley with her cat, her fox, and her lizard in tow. Marquis Pollux was not the sort of individual with sharp ears, but not wanting his spies to take notice, she remained perfectly silent until they arrived at their original destination.


    ¡°What was that about?¡± asked Lia.


    ¡°Nymphetel. I thought he stopped working for the Cadrians, but I misread him.¡±


    The claim was one that came with a shroud of doubt. She had the feeling that the elf had been trying to pull one over the other man¡¯s eyes, but no evidence to support it. Explaining the hunch to Lia, however, sounded like far more effort than it was worth.


    ¡°Does that have anything to do with us?¡± asked the cat.


    Claire pursed her lips and frowned before shaking her head. ¡°Nothing. But I was curious.¡±


    The rest of the afternoon went by rather quickly. They took an hour or two to scan the job board¡¯s entries, with Natalya noting down anything of interest in her notebook. Claire had also tried to commit them to memory, but most of the tasks were miscellaneous enough for her to think them not worth the effort. The bandits that they had previously eliminated were the only big names in the region, and all the other requests had pitiful rewards. There were few obvious dangers, given the capital¡¯s relative security. Both the bounty and subjugation boards consisted primarily of menial tasks such as eliminating wolves in the nearby forest and returning pets gone missing. There were also requests from other territories, often accompanied by more lucrative prizes, but they required travel, and Claire had no idea where any of the locations listed were.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    When they eventually picked out a few quests and retired for the night, right around when the sun started to set, they found themselves a pair of rooms in one of the city¡¯s higher-end establishments. According to the cat, it should have been far outside of their budget, but the luxury hotel was owned by none other than the huskar that was effectively her godmother. Silkroad, Olga¡¯s company, dabbled in all sorts of goods, and the fancy shop that they had visited just a few days prior was only one of her many storefronts. Olga was a fan of demonstrating her wares in real world situations, and her hotel was crafted for exactly that, doubling as both another source of income and a showroom for all the novelties she had in stock.


    That was why the trio found themselves seated in front of a floating table with an automaton serving as their waiter. Though entirely mechanical, the wooden doll lacked the awkwardness expected of an inanimate object, carrying itself instead with the grace of a seasoned butler. Speech was beyond the scope of its abilities, but no words were needed to convey its intent. After presenting a menu, it stood by their table with a quill in hand, ready to take their orders.


    The menu¡¯s presentation was lovely, written neatly with its text well aligned, and yet, despite the excellent penmanship, the dining room¡¯s various offerings were impossible to decipher. Each was placed under a category and given a unique identifier in the form of a number, but that was all. No names, descriptions, or illustrations were anywhere to be seen.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ can you tell us anything about these dishes? I can¡¯t really tell what¡¯s what.¡± The group¡¯s forest critter voiced the question on all their minds, but received no clear response. All the marionette did was turn its neck towards her and stare blankly until she gave up and returned her eyes to the menu.


    ¡°Lia. What is this thing?¡± Claire closed her pamphlet and looked at the catgirl sitting on her right. But like the puppet, she did little in the way of explaining.


    ¡°I have no idea. This is my first time seeing it, or even being here.¡±


    ¡°Useless.¡± The lyrkress voiced an insult just loud enough for the cat to catch before turning to the wooden doll. There was no purpose in idling any longer. The other guests had already long completed the ordering process, and none of the dishes placed in front of them looked the least bit offensive. She very well could have asked them for the numbers they chose, but all the patrons were rich or powerful, and she was not foolish enough to interrupt them in the midst of their meals.


    ¡°I would like a meat five.¡±


    The false butler nodded and stuck its quill into several holes in its hand, one after another, before suddenly growing to three times its previous size. Its stomach opened like a cabinet once the transformation was complete, revealing a large open flame with a dish already in progress.


    Its hands extending, it put together the various pieces of meat and produce that hung from its interior and assembled a plate with a perfect presentation. A lone cut of fine ham sat in the center, accompanied by two drumsticks and a side of a chopped salad doused in cream and pepper.


    With both her companions watching skeptically, Claire cut a piece of the meat and placed it into her mouth. Her eyes lit up as she chewed slowly, with her hands cutting another piece before she even swallowed.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that it is delicious, but it¡¯s certainly passable. The flavour composition is finely crafted, despite the rather bizarre process.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like a meat five too!¡± Sylvia practically sprang out of her elevated seat as she waved both paws at the butler-cum-chef, her eyes twinkling with all the excitement that the booster seat was expected to contain.


    ¡°Sylvia, calm down! You¡¯re going to bother the other guests,¡± said Natalya. ¡°Auntie Olga¡¯s only letting us stay here because we promised we wouldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I know but I can¡¯t!¡± shouted the vixen. ¡°This is the first time I¡¯ve ever heard Claire say that something actually tastes good! I¡¯m so excited I could eat the whole building!¡±


    ¡°I-it is?¡± The cat looked between the lyrkress and the dish sitting in front of her. ¡°Now that you mention it, she does usually say that everything is awful.¡± Sylvia¡¯s excitement began to infect her; her voice grew slightly louder and rose in pitch as she continued glancing between the two. ¡°In that case, I think I would like a meat five as well.¡±


    Both their orders, the butler quickly acknowledged. It pressed down the buttons in its quill once more and produced two dishes identical to the first.


    While Natalya had managed to retain some degree of sanity, Sylvia stained the tablecloth with her drool. She opened her mouth wide and prepared to devour the dish in one go, only to have it pulled out from under her right before she closed her jaws.


    ¡°That would be a waste,¡± said Claire. ¡°Eat small bites. Savour it.¡±


    ¡°How am I supposed to eat small bites when I¡¯m this excited!?¡± cried the vixen.


    ¡°Stupid fox.¡± Sighing, the lyrkress pinned the furball to her seat with a force and manipulated her utensils with another. Slowly, the knife cut through the ham and produced a tiny piece, only two centimeters long and one across. ¡°Chew slowly.¡± A magical flick sent the meat towards its salivating beholder, who listened obediently only because her mouth was under the other girl¡¯s control.


    ¡°Wow, this is tasty!¡± Sylvia spoke as soon as her invisible muzzle was removed.


    ¡°Are you sure that this is only passable, Claire?¡± asked Natalya. ¡°This is even better than what I was served at Baron Volkov¡¯s wedding.¡±


    ¡°Barons are poor and can hardly afford the ransom an excellent chef requires,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°Right¡­¡± The cat looked like she had quite a few comments to make, but awkwardly laughed them off in favour of returning to her meal. Claire also ate hers in silence; Sylvia was the only one to make her voice heard, constantly commenting on the dish in one way or another while her companions nodded or spoke short sentences in response.


    When they finished dinner and sought their rooms, they did so in the usual arrangement, with Sylvia and Claire sharing one, and Natalya having another to herself. The bedroom was incredibly fancy, featuring a large glass door that led to a beautiful veranda and a magical device that could submerge either of the room¡¯s halves for those partial to sleeping beneath the waves. The bed, like the butler they had met previously, was an artifact that could move or fold up on its own, depending on the user¡¯s specifications, and the soft, fireless torches that lined its walls were perfectly tuned to highlight the deep blues and velvety reds that adorned the carpet and furnishings.


    Claire was not particularly tired, but turned her cloak into a nightgown and sat down on the bed regardless. Boris, who had been previously strapped to her back, was set down on the carpet and given a monopus steak. Normally, he would have been fed the scraps from their table, but there was no room for such an inelegant display before the other guests; he had been forced to wait until they were out of sight.


    She kicked back and laid down as he finished crunching through his dinner. The day had been a long one; she was unsure if she slept at all the previous night, and she was yet to finish adjusting to her newfound body. There were still a few things about it that felt off and her tail often got in her way. Its length was simply excessive. Others would step on it if she failed to pay close attention to its position, and she herself had nearly tripped over it on more than one occasion.


    ¡°Good night, Sylvia,¡± she said, to the fox curled up beside her.


    ¡°Good night!¡±


    She closed her eyes, but sleep never came. Her mind was too busy racing with thoughts of her abilities and their various combinations. But as enthused about her new powers as she was, she soon found her musings straying from those of battle.


    The sudden Cadrian presence was bothering her. The marquis was one of her father¡¯s subordinates, and though he was not the most faithful of subjects, he was a fine warrior in his own right. She had no doubt that he was one of the scouts her father had sent out into the world to keep an eye out for her presence. She would have to be especially careful while they were in Vel¡¯khagan, or perhaps even relocate until the storm passed her by. There was no telling what would happen if she was discovered¡ªassuming that she wasn¡¯t already.


    The worried thoughts continued until late into the night, when they were rudely interrupted by the sound of a pair of metallic greaves, clanking against a carpeted, wooden floor.


    ¡°Claire.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    Someone was approaching their room, even though the moon was already starting to fall.


    ¡°I¡¯ll handle it.¡±


    There was no doubt in her mind that the individual approaching was one with no good intentions.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± asked the fox.


    She paused for a brief moment, but followed by a firm nod. ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± Pulling the sheets over her head and leaving only the tiniest gap through which she could peek, the cervitaur awaited the intruder¡¯s advent with her breath stuck in her chest. She could tell from the sounds that there were no hooves; it wasn¡¯t a centaur. But it very well could have been one of the thorae, or perhaps a cottontail or even a misshapen lamia.


    But when the door swung open, with its lock picked, the intruder was revealed to be an acquaintance. Fully dressed for battle, with her sword drawn and her cheeks stained red, stood the cat that was meant to be their companion.

 Chapter 178 - Beneath the Fractured Moon IV

    Chapter 178 - Beneath the Fractured Moon IV


    Natalya¡¯s breath was heavy. Her teeth clenched and her hands trembling, she wandered towards the bed with Belyaev¡¯s Whistle charged and spinning. The catgirl¡¯s blurry, tear-stained eyes fell on the fox as she continued to approach. She knew she was a threat, and that her life was likely to end as soon as Sylvia woke¡ªknowledge that drove her mind to only the most deplorable of places. She was almost tempted to strike her first, but quickly cast the thought aside. There was no need to involve anyone else in her vengeance, consequences be damned.


    If she wished to succeed and escape, then remaining undetected was of the utmost importance, but the crushing weight on her mind bled into her movements. Every other step was unmuffled, nearly loud enough to rob her target of its sleep. Try as she might, she found herself unable to dismiss the worry that she had arrived at the wrong conclusion. Even if it was impossible for it to be a misunderstanding.


    All the evidence lined up perfectly, too perfectly for it to be anything but the truth.


    The catgirl had gathered, from the designation of frosty longmoose, and the conversations between the two halfbreeds, that Claire was a cervitaur. Her colouration and distaste for being labeled a deer both served to indicate that she was of the darkhorned subspecies, the very same breed of alces whose bloodline had proliferated through Cadria¡¯s royal family tree. That alone would not have sufficed to condemn her. Not all darkhorned cervitaurs were related to the enemy monarchy, nor were they necessarily Cadrian to begin with.


    Claire, however, was no such exception. Her understanding of the Cadrian military revealed that she was privy to many of its secrets, her mannerisms clearly belonged to a member of the upper crust, and her lack of common sense was indicative of a sheltered upbringing. Her vanity and picky tongue were key pieces of evidence, and there existed no such thing as a commoner that would assume barons to be poor. Even her approach to combat was to be called to question. She wasn¡¯t the blade mage that the fox had claimed. Lia had been long aware of that, and they too had known that she was just playing along. But the fact remained that the lyrkress possessed a sort of strange magic, likely a secret school reserved only for high standing members of the nobility.


    But most obvious of all was her stare. Because it was just like his. Her cold, blank eyes were identical to the ones that the catgirl had seen on the man that killed her sister.


    The shape of her body differed greatly from his, but the discrepancy could easily be explained. It was commonly known that the merciless duke had captured a Sthenian princess during his conquest of the nation and forced her to become his bride. And many of Claire¡¯s traits had implied that it was precisely from the snake people that she drew the other half of her blood.


    There was no mistaking it. She was his daughter.


    Written in her notebook earlier that night was a conclusion that was endorsed by the powers above. A divine revelation from Tzaarkus confirmed that she had succeeded in arriving at the truth.


    Her traveling companion was Claire Augustus, scion of the enemy she had sworn to kill.


    The god¡¯s message had explained that she was the perfect target to attack. To kill the lyrkress would be to do unto Virillius what he had done to her.


    The thirst for revenge drove her to raise her sword overhead. She took a deep breath, planted her feet firmly into the carpet, and swung her blade.


    But her attack failed to reach its target.


    It was thrown off course when she dropped the weapon and fell to her knees, her face in her hands. More tears seeped from her eyes as she looked at her trembling fingers. She couldn¡¯t do it. Even knowing who the lyrkress was¡ªbecause she knew who the lyrkress was¡ªshe found herself incapable of following through.


    What she envisioned, when she imagined the face hidden beneath the sheets, was not the cold, empty stare that the halfbreed so often wore, but the soft smile that would sometimes leak through her mask, the miffed pout that would occasionally surface when things failed to go her way, and the happy grin she so often showed when she toyed with her fox.


    The catgirl could only bury her face in the mattress and cry as her heart was torn in a dozen different directions. She was so distressed that she hadn¡¯t the slightest clue of when the bed¡¯s occupant had noticed her. But when she looked up, her sobbing quieting just a bit, she found a wide awake Claire with her lips twisted into a conflicted frown.


    After a brief pause, where both of them looked at each other in silence, the lyrkress eventually pressed a foot to the cat¡¯s forehead and lightly pushed her away. ¡°Get out of my room, pervert.¡±


    Lia could feel her eyes welling up with yet another round of tears. She had been given the choice to be forgiven. If she walked away, then they would likely never speak of the incident again. All would be forgotten. But she didn¡¯t want to simply walk away.


    She couldn¡¯t. Not without getting it off her chest.


    ¡°Claire.¡± Still sniffling, the catgirl clenched her fists, pressed her face back into the sheets, and squeezed out her voice. ¡°Is your father the aspect of war?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The cat felt her heart sink. She had known it already, but hearing it in question struck a different chord in her heart.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡± Lia dug her claws into the sheets. ¡°After I told you about my sister?¡±


    ¡°There was no need for you to know.¡±


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    A bolt of anger coursing through her system, the cat grit her teeth and raised her head and her voice alike. ¡°What do you mean there wa¡ª¡± But her screaming came to an abrupt end as she saw the look on the other girl¡¯s face. Claire wasn¡¯t giving her the usual cold stare. She was averting her eyes, looking elsewhere whilst holding one arm with the other.


    Her emotions were clear. Completely unmasked.


    Natalya was not the only one feeling guilty.


    Continuing to stare at the cervitaur, she wondered if the reveal was intentional, if the unnecessary breadcrumbs were not mistakes, but choices made in remorse. It was unlikely, but the behaviour was fitting.


    ¡°Did you lie? When you said that you were running from him?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Claire took a deep breath as she gently ran her fingers along Sylvia¡¯s back. ¡°He tried to kill me, but I escaped.¡± Taking another breath, she stood up from her bed, transformed her nightgown into a cloak, and walked over to the veranda.


    The catgirl followed closely behind her. The cold midnight winds stung when they were blown against her tear-stained face, but she paid them no mind. Her eyes were focused instead on the fair maiden basking in the light of the moon.


    Idling for the briefest of moments, Claire climbed over the parapet and leapt down onto the streets. It was a long fall from the third story, but her bare feet landed on the stone-paved road without making a sound. Natalya hesitated for a moment, but eventually took her turn and leapt over the railing. Rather than falling, it felt more like she floated to the ground. It was a slow, gentle descent, lacking all the sudden force that should have accompanied it. And when her feet touched the ground, they did so gently, barely clinking, in spite of her greaves.


    And for a while, they navigated the streets in silence.


    It was so late that there was hardly anyone out or about, only the occasional drunk, passed out on the side of the road.


    ¡°There was a time where my father was kind.¡± She spoke the words in a whisper, her eyes focused on the shattered orb floating through the sky. When Lia followed the lyrkress¡¯ gaze and looked upon the moon goddess for herself, she thought for a brief moment that its hat was fluttering. Even though she knew that it never moved.


    ¡°When I was young, he treated me as you might expect a nobleman to treat his only daughter. I was spoiled and allowed to do everything I pleased. Except keep a pet.¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°Of course, I still had lessons and obligations to attend, but he used to praise me. Tell me that he was proud even when my evaluations were imperfect.¡± Another breath. ¡°That lasted until I was ten.¡±


    Though her source had experienced his warmth first hand, Natalya found it difficult to believe that the duke was ever kind. The cold eyes that had seen all the way down to the very depths of her soul were completely lacking in comfort or passion. They housed only emptiness. But at times, Claire would wear the exact same expression. And she had proven that, under the right conditions, it could melt away.


    ¡°He changed when my mother passed. From then on, everything had to be perfect. If it wasn¡¯t, then he would scream at me for hours on end. And sometimes he¡¯d scream even if it was.¡± A mocking, self-loathing smile. ¡°At some point, he stopped seeing me as his daughter, or even a person. It always felt like his mind was elsewhere when he looked at me. Sometimes, there was so much hatred in his eyes that I thought he would hit me.¡± She clenched her fists. ¡°He eventually made me into a ritual mage and effectively confined me to the manor, so I could be indoctrinated and used as a tool.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± said the cat.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be.¡± Fiddling with her tail, the lyrkress momentarily lowered her eyes from the stars and leapt over the canal in her path. ¡°I¡¯m over it already.¡± She wrapped the rear limb around her own hand and gave it a tight squeeze. ¡°One day, after six and a half years, I was told that I was to be used as a sacrifice. My blue blood would be used as a catalyst to curse the Kryddarian army.¡±


    Natalya could feel herself tearing up. Because she could see past the lyrkress¡¯ eyes. Even though they were locked to the shattered orb that illuminated the starry night sky.


    ¡°I managed to get away by altering the ritual. I don¡¯t know what the backlash did¡­ but I got away.¡±


    ¡°The backlash¡­¡± Natalya''s eyes widened. Her hands shook as she ran through evidence twice in her head. ¡°Was the ritual site your father¡¯s manor?¡± She already knew the answer. The halfbreed¡¯s escape had been the excuse that the general used to start the war.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Claire clenched her fists. ¡°It¡¯s been a full month and a half since then. Since he ordered me to offer my life to the gods.¡±


    ¡°A month and a half? That can¡¯t be right. He¡¯s been in Kryddar for nearly three.¡± Natalya furrowed her brow. She was almost tempted to reach for her artifact and scribble a few notes, but knew it was inappropriate.


    ¡°He was lazing around the manor three months ago,¡± said Claire. ¡°He couldn¡¯t have possi¡ª¡± She stopped mid sentence and moved her eyes around the sky. With her fingers, she noted the positions of the stars and counted several constellations before bringing a hand to her brow. ¡°Lia. What month is it?¡±


    ¡°The fifth,¡± replied the cat. ¡°I haven¡¯t checked a calendar recently, but it¡¯s been a few weeks since the solstice.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­¡± Claire paused for a moment, a finger to her chin as if deep in thought, before shaking her head and continuing her story. ¡°Whatever the case, I escaped him by altering the ritual. I performed the lost library¡¯s rite instead. And spirited myself away.¡±


    ¡°The lost library?¡± Natalya slowly chewed on the words before raising her head anew.


    ¡°The lost library,¡± repeated the lyrkress. She smiled softly as her circuits lit up with an inordinate amount of magical power. One of her serpentine eyes was filled with so much raw energy that it went from an icy blue to a sparkling gold. ¡°I won¡¯t keep any more secrets. My primary class is halfway between a rogue and a warrior, and my secondary class details the use of force magic. It allows me to move things around as I please.¡± Claire demonstrated by lifting the cat into the air without touching her. There was no pressure on any particular part of her body; it was almost like she had simply been made to float. ¡°Sylvia and I left the lost library two weeks ago. She¡¯s an aspect, serving as the right hand of a celestial with a hand in your making, and last time I asked, she said she was level 1826.¡±


    ¡°Why are you telling me all this?¡± asked the cat. ¡°After what I just... tried to do?¡±


    ¡°Because I trust you and I would still rather you trust me, even if you are a pervert.¡± Claire spun around, a bewitching smile upon her lips. ¡°I swear to you this, Natalya Vernelle. I have never worked for my father, and I never will.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a pervert.¡± Lia could feel her heart racing in her chest. The dark thoughts that had plagued her mind were gone, replaced by an unwillingness to tear her eyes away from the blueblood standing before her. ¡°But¡­ I will trust you.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    Still smirking, the lyrkress grabbed one of the cat¡¯s hands and pulled her along as she flew into the air. Towards the deity that hung in the sky. Lia almost panicked, but stopped as she realised that her body was weightless. She wasn¡¯t in control, but it wasn¡¯t like the bubble, nor like riding on the longmoose¡¯s back. She didn¡¯t feel like she was going to fall, even as she looked at the beautiful nightscape below.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why my father has troops in Vel¡¯khan, or even what his schemes might be,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°But whatever they are, I¡¯d like to ruin them.¡±


    ¡°That would be fun, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± A faint giggle upon her lips, Natalya tightened her grip on the other girl¡¯s hand. ¡°Count me in.¡± Her gaze focused on the lyrkress¡¯ eyes and her spirits lifted even higher than her body, the catgirl returned a confident smile, a lovely bloom beneath the fractured moon.

 Chapter 179 - The Bloodsucker and the Emissary

    Chapter 179 - The Bloodsucker and the Emissary


    Timaios Pollux folded his wings as he landed atop his floating fortress. Sticking out his arms, he allowed the servants, who had been silently awaiting his return, to change his clothes to a set more suitable for the upcoming occasion. According to the standard metrics, the marquis was an average, unremarkable aristocrat. His wealth was middling among those that shared his rank. His lands were not particularly fertile, and while his domain was popular among researchers and craftsmen, it was not by any means a true centre of commerce. None of the military academies had their campuses upon his land; it was too deep in the south, too far away from the various dungeons that they required for their exercises. But as detrimental as its location appeared, it was precisely the territory¡¯s geography that distinguished it from its competitors. Surrounded by foreign countries in three of the four cardinal directions, the state of Pollux was known for the mass import and export of goods. And while the marquis certainly did leverage this advantage by buttering up his associates with foreign gifts, it was not for his peculiar souvenirs that his name was known.


    Much of his infamy was derived from his willingness to adopt the unknown. His city¡¯s technologies had been replaced almost entirely with shiny new artifacts, and it was in his domain that the once lost craft truly flourished. A third of the country¡¯s artificers were gathered in Tornatus, the capital of his state, and another tenth or so were spread throughout the rest of his lands. The most obvious result of their influence was his floating fortress. Though many of his peers had acquired similar vessels over the years, the marquis¡¯ stood out as both the oldest and the newest. It was an ancient ship, the first to take to the skies, but came outfitted with the latest technologies.


    While Tornatus and its skyborn castle were certainly topics that often decorated Cadrian lips, its ruler was best regarded for a completely different set of achievements. As with most other war heroes, he was praised by his colleagues for his service in times of conflict. A true Cadrian elite, the level 800 thunderhoof dreadnaught had spent the better part of 600 years fighting by Duke Augustus¡¯ side, and he was well regarded as one of the first warlords to place his bets in Virillius¡¯ camp.


    ¡°Welcome back, Sir. Will you be reviewing the script?¡±


    A young cottontail just barely of age, the carrier-cum-manor¡¯s butler-in-chief, raised the question as he presented a hexagonal stone with a countless number of key documents stored within.


    ¡°Thank you Armando, but I¡¯ll be fine without it.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± The butler narrowed his eyes into a skeptical gaze and bent his ears at a perfect 90 degree angle. ¡°Duke Augustus is sure to be cross with you if you accidentally steer the conversation off course.¡±


    ¡°That is a needless concern.¡±


    A fresh set of formal clothes equipped, the centaurian warrior straightened his back and adjusted his tie. Some might have labeled his discoloured outfit out of place or perhaps even uncoordinated, but there was little that the man could do; purple and green were the colours that his forefathers had chosen. He would have gladly ignored their wills had they been unremarkable aristocrats, but they were fallen warriors. Their souls, preserved by Vella herself, would weep if they saw their choices disgraced by the descendant that had inherited their blood.


    ¡°Might I inquire as to the manner of business you were conducting in the city, Sire?¡±


    The butler¡¯s question was answered with a chuckle and a grin. ¡°The scouts happened to spot one of Virillius¡¯ trainees. I thought it would be worth asking her for an update.¡±


    ¡°I fail to see why you decided against letting our agents make contact.¡± The cottontail heaved a tired sigh, as one did, when tasked with serving a master such as Timaios.


    Seeing his servant¡¯s frustration only drove the old centaur to twist his thin, greying moustache into a particularly playful smile. ¡°Perhaps not, but I was hoping to catch a breath or two of fresh air.¡±


    ¡°With all due respect, Sir Pollux, the barrier has been down throughout the journey. You have been exposed to nothing but fresh air.¡±


    ¡°I suppose, but sitting around and enjoying the wind is not quite the same as stretching my own wings.¡± Ignoring the venom building in the rabbit¡¯s voice, he directed his thoughts inward and recalled the elf with whom he had just shared a conversation.


    Nymphetel Blackroot lacked all the traits that centaurs found traditionally attractive. Though shapely, her ears were tiny, as was implied by her elven heritage, and her chest was non-existent. Her legs were not lengthy enough for the deed to be done in any of the standard positions, and her hair was, of all things, a disgusting honeyed blonde. But, while she certainly was not without her detriments, her face was one of undeniable beauty, sculpted by the gods themselves. Her features were perfectly feminine, and the lines of her body drew the eyes of all but the most extreme ear-fetishists. He knew of a number of unsavoury rumours regarding the state of the elf¡¯s loins, but wanted her as a concubine regardless. The defamation likely stemmed from jealousy, and at the end of the day, the marquis cared not for the details. A hole was a hole, after all.


    ¡°Perhaps it is time to invest in becoming a steer.¡± For the tenth time since his patron¡¯s return, the butler heaved a sigh. ¡°My dear master, need I remind you that the missus is on board?¡±


    ¡°No worries on that front. She understands.¡± The marquis knew that he had spoken a bold faced lie. If his wife were to discover that he was considering a seventh concubine, she was sure to throw a fit that would end with a knife between his legs. Still, he continued to speak, as if unconcerned for the future state of his genitals. ¡°You know what they say, it¡¯s only natural for strong men to want to spread their seed.¡±


    ¡°I believe that old adage only applies to humans, Sire.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps I might have some human in me somewhere then. You never know, with these things.¡±


    Armando pressed a hand to his brow and rubbed away the impending headache. ¡°That is objectively false. Your family tree states that you are pure blooded, with half your blood from the skyrunner line, three eighths from the darkhorned li¡ª¡±


    To the marquis¡¯s relief, the butler¡¯s extremely factual explanation was cut off by a sudden shake of the castle. The carrier had docked right to Vel¡¯khagan¡¯s centerpiece.


    ¡°Unfortunately, dear friend, that appears to be all I have time for. We can pick this up once I¡¯ve sorted my responsibilities.¡±


    Checking over his attire again, the noble quickly made his escape. He trotted over to the landing platform, where he was joined by a retinue of guards. Like his latest concubine candidate, they were fresh trainees with only a year or two of service under each of their belts, but they were by far the elf¡¯s inferior. None of them had qualified to train under the duke or inherit the styles that he taught to his disciples.


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    That was not to say that they were weak; they were still Cadrian knights capable of felling similarly leveled monsters in single combat, but it could not be denied that their numbers fell on the lower end of the spectrum. They lacked not only the evolved weapon mastery skills that came with the duke¡¯s instruction, but also the ability scores derived from the associated class variants. Even their levels were lower; the average soldier was barely twice ascended and had only a class or two in the three hundreds. Level 700 warrior at the helm or not, they were a mediocre band with few merits to be praised.


    Still, to those outside of their homeland, they were an impressive force. Timaios was confident that he could topple the local monarchy with no more than the thousand he had on hand. There were no aspects in Vel¡¯khagan. The highest level fighters were the two dozen triple ascendants that constituted the Vampire Queen¡¯s royal guard, as well as the occasional veteran adventurer that used the capital city as their base. Whatever the case, the marquis was confident that he could single-handedly best them all. It was not arrogance that drove the assessment, but rather his experience. Instinctively, he knew how well he sized up against another fighter with just the briefest of glances, and none of the warriors he had spotted from above had struck him as particularly impressive. But alas, violence and conquest were not on the menu, for such approaches went against the purpose of his mission.


    By the eleven-horned king¡¯s decree, he was to serve as a beacon of goodwill, an emissary of peace that would build in Vel¡¯khan many of the socioeconomic structures that had fueled Cadria¡¯s growth. His nation needed partners, and not those with powerful militaries at their behest. What they truly required was to tap into countries with larger populations so that they could peddle their goods abroad and enrapture talented scholars in the study of their mystical technologies.


    The marquis himself would have preferred to go to war. He saw no reason not to fight at Virillius¡¯ side again, to reprise his role as his flag bearer and march as one of the many elites that he commanded, but his work abroad had long become his primary duty. Vel¡¯khan was the fourth nation he had visited in the two years that he had been re-elected the minister of foreign affairs, and for once, it was not his impetus that had spurred the visit. The driving force was instead an ask from the maritime nation¡¯s queen¡ªa request for military aid. Three weeks before the war began, she had asked for a force to clear out a dungeon, one that was slowly but surely approaching her capital, with powerful beasts swarming the clouds around it.


    Slowly contemplating the circumstances, he stood atop the fortress¡¯ landing platform until it carried him to ground level. The magical elevator was one of the few older parts that had yet to be replaced; it moved at only a fifth the speed of the newest model, but the marquis did not see its lack of velocity as a problem. His entire unit consisted of fliers. It was only during times of ceremony that the outdated artifact saw any use.


    Though still inferior to the Cadrian royal estate, the construct before him remained an impressive sight. Half the building rested atop a foundation of sand, while the rest was located beneath the water.


    A group of butlers and maids greeted him at the gate, the categorizations of which were distinguishable only because he had studied up on the local races prior to his visit. The consultant he hired was pricey, but well worth the expense. It was only following the old kelpfin¡¯s advice that he abided by the local etiquette and walked with his front legs pulling his weight.


    Offering their greetings, the servants parted like the sea to reveal a particularly well-dressed hippocampus wearing a gown made of the finest silk.


    ¡°It is an honour to be in the presence of a warrior and brilliant mind as accomplished as yourself, Lord Pollux.¡± Though his dress appeared to suggest that he was female, the sea horse¡¯s smooth, baritone voice confirmed that he was a man. ¡°I am Tyl¡¯ick, lord of House Ray¡¯esce and its associated county. For the duration of your visit, I shall be serving as your guide and liaison.¡± The count did not bow or even stand up from his wheelchair, but raised his tail, placed its tip to his chest and closed his eyes instead.


    ¡°The honour is mine, Sir Ray¡¯esce. The tales of your battles have reached even my homeland. It is only the greatest of privileges to be greeted by the Ryllian¡¯s most resourceful admiral.¡± Timaios was incapable of returning the man¡¯s gesture with the lackluster length of his tail, so he pressed a hand to his chest instead.


    ¡°Your praise is wasted on me, Sir Pollux. I am no different from any other man of the sea,¡± said the grand admiral, with an amicable smile. ¡°Apologies, I would love for us to further our discussions, but Her Majesty awaits. She is present within the audience chamber, and it would be a stain upon my bloodline¡¯s record to keep her waiting for any longer.¡±


    ¡°Indeed, Sir Ray¡¯esce. Let us be off.¡±


    Leaving all the servants and guards in the foyer, the hippocampus and the centaur proceed by their lonesome. In a Cadrian setting, it would have fallen to the guide to busy the guest with conversation as they stepped through the wondrous castle, but the Vel¡¯khanese demanded silence during their processions. Left to fulfill the role of the entertainer was the architecture, and fulfill its role it did. For a foreigner especially, the building was a veritable work of art.


    He was made to walk the central hall, to pass its contrasting halves in tandem. On his right were courtyards, lavish gardens with pristine flowers that had no right blooming atop the sandy beach, while his left was adorned with a massive aquarium, an underwater reef rife with plant and animal life alike.


    At the end of the hall sat a magnificent doorway, a portal to a throne room that took the two contrasting concepts and blended them together. The marquis could see the ocean beneath his feet, a clear blue with even its darkest parts visible to the naked eye. And so too could he see the gardens, masses of land buried in glass cases within the water, some dotting it as islands, and others submerged entirely beneath the waves. Terrariums containing distinct plants and critters from all different parts of the world.


    The guide wheeled through the doorway, stopping roughly ten meters in front of an elevated platform.


    ¡°I have arrived with Marquis Pollux, Your Majesty.¡±


    ¡°I thank you for bringing him to me, Sir Ray¡¯esce. You are dismissed.¡± A dignified voice rumbled through the chamber, one with enough weight and majesty to crush the average man underfoot.


    ¡°By your will, My Queen.¡±


    Turning his wheelchair around, the Vel¡¯khanese admiral nodded at the Cadrian before seeing himself out the hall.


    ¡°Welcome, Marquis Pollux. I have long awaited your arrival with bated breath.¡±


    The sovereign addressed him as the door closed behind her military advisor. Even from beyond the veil that covered her throne, the monarch¡¯s body cast a long, plump shadow, with her head the widest part of her frame. She was the queen of the vampires, the most prevalent bloodsucker among the continent¡¯s royals, and the only thrice ascended of her kind. She was the heir to the Vel¡¯khanese throne, the bloody queen of the Ryllian Sea. But to an unknowing observer, she was just a leech. A leech the size of a man.


    ¡°And so too have I waited to cast my eyes upon your beautiful form and find myself in awe. You are truly as they say, Your Majesty, dark and lustrous as the purest of obsidian.¡±


    A single glance was enough to shiver the most stalwart of knights, but not Timaios. Even knowing that she saw him as prey, he tapped his chest twice with his dominant hand before bringing it to his shoulder, as would a Vel¡¯khanese soldier.


    ¡°Before we discuss the topic for which I have requested your presence, let us address a matter that has caught my curiosity.¡± It was difficult to tell with the veil between them, but the queen almost appeared to lean forward. ¡°I have heard many tales of Cadrian diplomats such as yourself spreading technologies and other bizarre concepts far and wide.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Your Majesty.¡± The centaur kept his face neutral and professional, but on the inside, he was beaming. His judgement had proven correct; there was no need for the script. ¡°I have several artifacts whose use I would like to demonstrate to you personally. I believe there will be many boons for both of our countries should these be adopted. But first, Your Majesty,¡± Timaios smiled, in a way that only a shrewd businessman could. ¡°Might I interest you in the concept of a corporation?¡±

 Chapter 179.5 - Prelude of Storm

    Chapter 179.5 - Prelude of Storm


    Her wings held overhead and her beady brown eyes closed, Melly¡ªMeltys of Arviandor¡ªbathed her sparkling pink feathers with a splash of hot water. She basked in the sensation, humming happily as the liquid washed down her frame and filled her very core with warmth.


    It took an immense effort to haul the bathwater to the summit that was her home. The only spring¡¯s source laid halfway down the slope and its fresh water only flowed downwards, towards the city built around the sacred garden. It was not she that contributed the labour of transport. That duty fell instead upon the shrine maidens that lived at the base of the mountain. Every day, after lunch, the devout would stray from their looms, draw from the spring, and deliver to the mountain dweller enough water to fill a bath.


    At a glance, the midday soak appeared as would an activity of leisure, but it too was one of Melly¡¯s many responsibilities. It was only her divine grace, her sacred blessing, that allowed the arviads to drink from the contaminated water. The holy energy that radiated off her body cleansed the impurities and blessed the liquid with the holy power it required. There was no other way to ward off the thick miasma that clung to the air. Without a divine protector, the city was doomed. The old and weak would see grievous symptoms within days, and the healthy would collapse in the following weeks.


    As her father¡¯s heir, it fell to her to take his responsibility. And one day, with her retirement, the duty would be passed again onto her brother. He would be raised to follow in her tailwind and serve as the patron of the arviad people.


    Looking towards the chick, who bounced around the fountain with cheer, Melly allowed a fond light to reflect in her eyes. The youngling had hatched only three months prior; he was barely old enough to walk, but he already developed an understanding of most simple concepts. Before long, he would be mature enough to speak words, and perhaps even give himself a name.


    ¡°You have to scrub your bill carefully, young one.¡±


    Quacking softly, Meltys rose from the fountain and reached into the bucket inside it, but found it empty. All the peas had already been consumed by the gluttonous child frolicking in the bath.


    While certainly disappointed, the divine did not find herself particularly resentful. She had known that her little brother would cause her trouble. But even then, it was she that suggested he accompany her. He was still at the age where he could easily be lost, and her mother, their mother, needed a break from his continued caretaking.


    Melly allowed him to play for another few minutes before ushering him outside. She was getting hungry, and she had already spent the better part of an hour soaking herself through.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re disappointed, but you¡¯re just going to have to put up with it.¡± She responded to his frustrated chirps with a light push. Using one of her wings, she carted him away from the bathhouse, sealed the door behind them for good measure, and walked with him across the property.


    The shrine that was their mountaintop home was not particularly large or spacious. Still, walking across the grounds was tough work for a child, and it took them several minutes to make their way to the kitchen, where the family¡¯s matriarch was slowly working away.


    ¡°Is lunch ready yet?¡±


    ¡°It will be in a bit, sweetie.¡±


    The response was followed by the sizzling of a pan. There was a tantalizing smell drifting through the home; a beautiful array of scents that could only come when insects and battered vegetables were cooked perfectly in tandem. Melly was so pleased that she quacked into song, twirling and dancing through the kitchen excitedly as she awaited the meal¡¯s completion.


    The pea-gorged chick did not appear quite as eager. He certainly did sniff at the smells and point his beak in their direction, but it appeared more for curiosity than it did out of hunger. He was already full, after eating half his body weight in greens.


    Right as Melly¡¯s excitement peaked, however, there happened to be a knock on the door.


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    ¡°I¡¯ll get it.¡± Frowning, the arviad reluctantly tore her eyes off the meal and waddled to the building¡¯s foyer. The guest, one of the people from the city, had already let himself in. He was pacing back and forth, his wings on his balding head and his feathers completely disheveled.


    ¡°Meltys!¡± He ran to her as soon as she turned the corner. ¡°You have to help us! There¡¯s an emergency. The sacred well has been corrupted and dozens are sick!¡± He spoke not in Marish, but rather their native tongue of abravdt. For their kind, it was much easier to squawk and sing than it was to weave the words of men.


    She opened her eyes wide, but soon calmed with a ruffle of the feathers. Her father had dealt with similar problems countless times in his career. She could quickly resolve it, so long as she kept her head level.


    ¡°Which well is it?¡±


    ¡°The south one,¡± he said. ¡°Please hurry! My son, my son is dying!¡±


    Nodding, she spread her wings wide and first basked him in her divine grace. He had also drunk the envenomed water, and she could feel the miasma seeping deep into his core.


    The purification ritual lasted for only five seconds, but required a hundred points of divinity. Several generations ago, it would have been a draining amount, but Melly was the seventeenth protector. Every point she spent had returned by the time she closed her wings.


    Throughout the ages, the divine protector had become so well worshipped that their divinity blossomed, skyrocketed beyond all minimum requirements, and qualified them for a place among the pantheon. And yet, they went largely unknown. Only within their territory were their names ever spoken, their titles and concepts ever worshipped. It was not as if she was tied to the land, but her people were, and she was honourbound to see her duty through.


    With obligation in mind, she stepped out of her home, passed through the shrine¡¯s holy gates, and soared across the mountain, at the land that had been known as the largest range east of the Ryllian, before the mountain god¡¯s latest tantrum.


    The sky parted to make way for her advent and formed a chasm in the clouds. Her speed was so great that she needed a holy barrier to keep her body from coming to harm; to stop the winds from tearing her to bits. In less than half a minute, she landed next to the well, cushioning her fall with the softest of heavenly pillars.


    Many approached to offer her their instructions, but she required no such orders. Her eyes saw all.


    Standing up on her bright orange feet, she spread her wings as far as they would go and summoned forth a sacred barrier, a holy shield that stretched as far and wide as the city itself. Maintaining a purifying silverlight on such a scale strained even the great protector. The feathers on the tips of her wings began to fray and shrivel. Her skin wrinkled, her eyes sank into her sockets, and her feet dried, turning from beautiful paddles to sad dried-out husks.


    Her very life force was being consumed, converted to the divine power required to execute her commands, but she cared little. The citizens began thanking her before the purification was even complete. They got down to the ground and bowed their heads, singing hymns of worship and acknowledgement, bestowing upon her the power that she was missing, the power she needed. Her body began to restore itself, and the miasma grew weaker. By the time she was whole again, the noxious gas had been purged from the city in all places but one.


    Flapping her wings, she rose into the air, blew the covering off the well, and dove in headfirst. Light spread from where she entered, slowly radiating through the water and cleansing it of its curse. Everywhere she went, dived, the colour changed from purple to silver, corrupt to divine. When she eventually arrived at the spring¡¯s source, she found that the trail of pollution stemmed from a foreign object in the water, a sort of strange thing with an appearance resembling that of a child¡¯s toy. The top half of its body was round, shaped almost like the top half of an eggshell. Long slimy feathers grew from beneath its bell. The plumes bore a greater resemblance to seaweed than they did any sort of coat, but she minded them not. Whatever the creature was, it had been killed prior to its birth. Its translucent skin and underdeveloped organs reminded her of a chick ripped from the safety of its shell.


    Worse, it had been mauled following its premature escape. Tiny claw marks ran along the side of its head, a sign that it had been attacked by the venomous jungle cats roosting in the miasmatic mountain range. There were also hints of blunt trauma, large swaths of its body with its flesh violently tenderised.


    Embracing the poor chick, Melly closed her eyes and channeled her power. She could not quite heal the deceased child¡¯s body, but her holy aura cleansed it of its impurities as it melted away in her wings.


    It was during that moment of pity that she was struck with a premonition, a vision of a group of misshapen, four-legged birds, storming the city with spells and weapons. In the vision, she was helpless. The sacred relic that was her weapon lay at her feet while a demon stood in front of her, holding her brother with a dagger at his throat.


    A shudder ran down her spine, accompanied by a sense of understanding and responsibility.


    She would have to grow into an even greater god if she wished to avoid the fate that had befallen the unhatched child.


    She would need to make a pilgrimage to the sacred mountain, where she would gain even greater power. But first, as signaled by her rumbling stomach, she would need to find something to eat.

 Chapter 180 - The Castle in the Sea

    Chapter 180 - The Castle in the Sea


    Her ears and eyes peeled, Claire paid careful attention to her surroundings as she made her way down Vel¡¯khagan¡¯s main street. The overnight increase in the city¡¯s centaur population was disturbing and kept her on her toes; she had to keep her features entirely obscured beneath her cloak to avoid running the risk of identification. There were too many of them. She felt as if it would only be a matter of time before her name was made known.


    Though on guard, the lyrkress was using her senses for more than just tracking her countrymen. She was paying attention to the voices in the crowd, listening in on every conversation that discussed the Cadrian presence. Keeping up with them all was impossible, of course, so she listened primarily for keywords in hopes of learning the invaders¡¯ motives. She knew that Sir Pollux had invited Nymphetel to join him in conquering a dungeon, but she doubted that was all they were up to. There wasn¡¯t enough information; a complete grasp of the status quo would be necessary, if she was to truly foil her father¡¯s plans.


    To that end, the girls had consulted three different information brokers, none of whom were able to tell them anything useful. They were already on their way to a fourth, a supposedly reliable investigator recommended by none other than Ms. Olga herself. But while Natalya was still hopeful, Claire was already sold on the idea of doing everything herself instead. The men they consulted were all reputable, but they had known nothing; she doubted that visiting a fourth would provide them with any new knowledge.


    The details they sought required a leak from the palace, and while money could often speak volumes, it still took time for lips to loosen. The castle¡¯s guards were unlikely to reveal any details while the event¡¯s confidentiality was still fresh in their minds; even the notorious loudmouths would keep their horns zipped for the first few hours.


    Sylvia¡¯s proposal, a direct infiltration, was more likely to prove fruitful; gathering the information first hand was the only way to avoid lagging behind their enemies. Had the marquis been a different individual, or the lyrkress more willing to depend on her fox, she would have opted to eliminate them within the dungeon¡¯s confines and pry her needs from their cold, dying hands, but she was not so delusional as to think that she could win a fight against a man so powerful. Pollux was not exactly her father¡¯s right hand, but he had accompanied him on a number of suicide missions and returned with both his life and sanity intact. If the rumours were to be believed, he was powerful enough to be a match for an aspect in single combat.


    ¡°Oh yeah, Claire.¡± Sylvia interrupted her owner¡¯s train of thought with a light drum of the paws.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°When are you gonna pick your third class? And what are you gonna be?¡± The fox paused for only a brief moment, not giving the lyrkress a chance to answer. ¡°Oh, I know! You should become a seer like me! Then we can match and stuff, and it¡¯d be perfect!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ I think she¡¯d do better with something more melee-focused,¡± said the cat. ¡°She likes jumping in too much to be a real backliner.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! Seers are great in close quarters!¡± Sylvia swiped one of her paws through the air, leaving a sickly green trail in the space that followed it. ¡°Like that! All you need to do is level it up enough, and you can start soul rending stuff. Easy peasy.¡±


    Natalya slowly looked between the spell and its caster, her eyes blinking rapidly all the while. ¡°Did you just say soul rend?¡±


    ¡°Yup!¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you should be using something that powerful in the middle of the city?¡± The cat took off her glasses and rubbed her temples. ¡°We¡¯ll be in a lot of trouble if any of the authorities catch wind of it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯m just a fox. No one¡¯s gonna see me and think that I can tear their souls out. Plus, it¡¯s not like it leaves a huge trail or anything. It¡¯ll take someone well over a thousand to even notice, unless they¡¯re some kinda super mage.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± The cat smiled, awkwardly, and tried her hardest to laugh off the claim. ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re on our side.¡±


    ¡°You better be! I¡¯m the best fox there is.¡± Sylvia stood up on her hind legs and puffed out her chest, her front paws on her hips.


    ¡°Stop.¡± Claire jabbed her tail into the catgirl¡¯s face. ¡°She¡¯s getting carried away. Because you¡¯re being an idiot.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not getting carried away!¡± shouted the overly proud fox.


    ¡°Yes you are.¡±


    ¡°To be fair, being a soul warden is a pretty big deal.¡± Natalya¡¯s remark was met with another violation of the cheeks, but the assault failed to dissuade her. The smile on her face was bright enough for Claire to back down under the suspicion that she was relishing the experience.


    ¡°See, Claire! She gets it! She appreciates me! And you should too!¡±


    ¡°Never.¡± The lyrkress grabbed the fox off her head and squeezed her to her chest. ¡°You¡¯re just a stupid fox. I already respect you more than I should.¡±


    ¡°Wait! Does that mean you respect me?¡±


    Sylvia perked up, her eyes sparkling and her ears at full attention.


    ¡°Not in the slightest.¡±


    But she was let down with a boop to the nose.


    ¡°Oh come on! Now you¡¯re just being mean for no reason. You even got my hopes up and everything.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not being mean at all.¡± After scratching her chin and playing with her ears, the lyrkress presented the fox to the envious cat hovering beside her. ¡°Your turn.¡±


    ¡°Finally!¡± said Natalya. ¡°You have no idea how long I¡¯ve been waiting to do this.¡± She grabbed Sylvia by the sides and immediately moved to press her face into her fur, only to be stopped by the pull of a formless object. ¡°Rubbing your cheeks against her belly makes you a pervert.¡±


    ¡°O-oh¡­¡± Slightly dejected, the cat lowered her vulpine captive with a sigh and moved to pull her into an embrace. But again, a magical force put an end to her ambitions.


    ¡°And don¡¯t hug her either. That also makes you a pervert.¡±


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    ¡°H-huh? Bu¡ª¡±


    ¡°No nuzzling. No hugging. No petting. No paw holding. No scratching.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t just make a list with literally everything on it!¡± grumbled the cat, ¡°Besides, you do all of those things all the time. Doesn¡¯t that make you a pervert too?¡±


    ¡°It does not,¡± Claire stuck out her tongue. ¡°Unlike you, I don¡¯t have a prior history of being depraved.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that has anything to do with anything.¡± Ignoring the mean snake¡¯s warnings, she pulled Sylvia into her chest and rested her chin on her head. ¡°And I¡¯ve never been depraved.¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± said the bluescale, with a roll of the eyes. ¡°And I¡¯ve never killed anything.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire?¡± Sylvia raised a paw. ¡°One of those lies is a lot more believable than the other.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t lying,¡± said the cat. Her eyes turned distant as she gave the far off castle a forlorn stare. ¡°Why do the two of you always insist that I¡¯m a pervert? I haven¡¯t even done anything!¡±


    ¡°You barged into an innocent maiden¡¯s room in the middle of the night, snuck over to her bedside, and defiled it with your bodily fluids,¡± said Claire. She grabbed the cat¡¯s tail with her own and gave it a playful yank. ¡°If that¡¯s not being a pervert, then I don¡¯t know what is.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s got a point there,¡± said the fox. ¡°Sneaking into a girl¡¯s room at night is kiiiinda sketchy.¡±


    ¡°Only because of the way you two are framing it.¡± Natalya breathed a sigh and scratched the spot behind the fox¡¯s ears. ¡°And it¡¯s not like Claire is much of a fair maiden in the first place. Sure, she¡¯s pretty, but maidens are supposed to be sweet and innocent, and Claire is well¡­ Claire.¡±


    ¡°I am as pure as the driven snow,¡± said the lyrkress, with another petty jab, ¡°and the fairest maiden that you¡¯ll find in all the lands.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Lia averted her eyes, while Sylvia doubled back in laughter. The vixen cackled with such vigour that she slipped from the cat¡¯s grip and rolled around the city¡¯s stone-paved streets, laughing all the way.


    Claire, of course, was not as entertained. Her lips twisted into a pout, she grabbed both the others by the cheeks and tugged.


    ¡°Ow! See! This is exactly why you don¡¯t count,¡± said Sylvia, her voice distorted. ¡°Fair maidens don¡¯t resort to violence for no reason! Or ever!¡±


    ¡°Cadrian ones do.¡± Mumbling under her breath, she dragged both of them along until they reached their destination. Rather than a suspicious tavern or other degenerative establishment, the building that they entered was one that dealt in luxury goods. It was a news outlet, a rare location that produced weekly publications for those that could put forth the steep steep price of one silver piece a bundle.


    The cost was not a factor of the quality, as the news was often penned in a hurry, but rather the pace of production. Still, the individual volumes were collected by well-to-do ladies, who frequently touched upon the topics detailed whenever they met to gossip. Having been forced to participate in such social events on more than just the odd occasion, Claire had not even the scantest expectations when it came to the outlet¡¯s ability to gather information.


    And surely enough, there was little to be gleaned. While there were certainly a fair number of investigators on the case, the publishing house had acquired little to no information. Their articles and experts offered not any notable facts, but rather a series of long-winded speculations no better than the ones the lyrkress had heard whilst strolling through the city. The topic was one of widespread interest; the first thing that any one citizen or other discussed, upon running into an acquaintance, was the foreign presence and its purpose, but none had any means of backing their theories.


    ¡°I¡¯m starting to think we should just get in a bubble and sneak onboard.¡± Claire groaned as she walked out of the building. She was disappointed, even though she had known better than to assume competence on the journalists¡¯ part.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you to say that!¡± Sylvia, who had been in Natalya¡¯s arms only a second prior, appeared on her head with a pop and excitedly stamped her tiny paws on the half-snake¡¯s skull. ¡°Are we going right now? ¡®Cause I can hardly wait!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s this about a bubble?¡± asked Natalya. ¡°I don¡¯t really see how breathing underwater is going to help us sneak aboard the ship.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s ¡®cause my bubbles are way more than just for breathing!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°They¡¯re good shields, they can turn you invisible, they can eve¡ª¡±


    The explanation was cut off with a pinch to the snout. She looked down at the perpetrator and tilted her head, as if to ask what it was for, but Claire remained silent. Following her gaze, Sylvia found a woman in a black dress with an apron on top, walking towards them on a pair of high heels. She had only a few of the aquatic properties shared by those around her; her throat had gills, her head was adorned with flippers, and a long tail fin grew from the back of her skull. Blending in with her blue-green hair, the dolphin-like appendage extended all the way down to her waist. Her skin was only a little lighter than her mane, a shade of teal that clearly marked her as something in the vein of a shark. It was a distinctive appearance, the sort that couldn¡¯t be missed, but she almost seemed invisible to the crowd. No one so much as gave her a second look.


    Stopping directly in front of them, she performed a quick curtsy before opening her mouth and revealing her beautiful, piercing voice. ¡°Good morning, ladies.¡± She took a moment to look at the fox before turning to the cat. ¡°Miss Vernelle, I am a servant of House Ray¡¯esce, here on my Master¡¯s behalf to request a brief meeting.¡±


    The suspicious request had Claire narrowing her eyes, but the maid was ready with a response.


    ¡°We recently purchased an item of interest, and Madame Popov referred us to you when we asked for the opportunity to speak with the group that procured it.¡±


    ¡°Would that be for a later date?¡± asked Lia.


    ¡°If that is your preference, then it can be arranged, but my Master was hoping for the opportunity to converse with you sometime today.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll need a moment to confer with my companions,¡± said the cat. Grabbing Claire by the hand, she pulled her aside and spoke in a whisper. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s suspicious,¡± said the longmoose.


    ¡°I think so too, but I think it should be fine if Auntie¡¯s given her the go ahead.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, maybe not.¡± Claire brought a finger to her chin and frowned.


    There were a number of red flags, with the first and foremost being the maid¡¯s awareness of their location. There was certainly reason to believe that she had arrived at the local news outlet following Olga¡¯s instructions, as she had stated, but her eyes had been locked on them for quite some time; it was like she knew exactly where they were.


    The meeting itself was another point of concern. She failed to see why they had been called upon. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for well-known adventurers to meet with members of nobility, but Lia¡¯s reputation failed to warrant such an encounter. She had only been active in the region for a few months at most, not long enough for any sensible aristocrat to think her worthy of trust. And that therein was the keyword. There was always a chance that the individual in question was an idiot driven by ill intentions.


    ¡°I think we should do it.¡± Still, the lyrkress lowered her arms and nodded.


    It was impossible to dismiss the notion that it was a trap set by her countrymen, but neither could she write off the potential payoff. The nobleman was likely to know more about the Cadrians and their affairs than any of the common rabble, and she was confident that she could escape in the event that the encounter turned sour. The assumption of her true form was sure to provide a moment of disorder.


    ¡°What a coincidence. I was thinking the same thing.¡± The cat flashed a toothy grin. ¡°Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m all for it! I¡¯ve never been to a noble¡¯s house before, and it sounds like it could be loads of fun.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t.¡± Claire flicked the fox¡¯s nose. ¡°If you run around, you¡¯ll get us in trouble. You¡¯ll need to be quiet and calm. Throughout the whole thing.¡±


    ¡°Wait, really!?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! That¡¯s so boring¡­¡± The half-fairy sighed. ¡°Alright, whatever! Fine! I¡¯ll just take a nap then.¡±


    ¡°Okay, I guess that¡¯s that.¡± Breaking off from the others, the cat returned to the maid and spoke with a smile. ¡°We¡¯ll see him right away.¡±


    ¡°Excellent. Then please, right this way.¡±


    With the maid at the helm, the group proceeded through the city¡¯s streets and sought the manor of House Ray¡¯esce.

 Chapter 181 - The Castle in the Sea II

    Chapter 181 - The Castle in the Sea II


    A cup of tea at her lips and her eyes focused on the window, Claire silently fumed with her expression perfectly controlled. The group had been led straight to the castle. They weren¡¯t inside the palace itself, but one of the many buildings that dotted its grounds. The Cadrian fortress loomed just beyond the glass, its entire frame perfectly visible to all its idle observers. It was just as exposed as Boris; the lazy lizard was lounging in the castle¡¯s garden, floating in the middle of its pond, exposed and vulnerable.


    Claire¡¯s state was hardly any better. Her hood was off, peeled back as a courtesy for the man that they awaited. Any Cadrian knight that casually gazed through the window would have been sure to spot a familiar face had the catgirl been missing. Lia sat right beside her, cutting her off from the outdoors and obscuring her features. But while convenient, the berserker¡¯s position was far from comfortable. The pervert had decided to sit close enough for their hips and shoulders to touch, even though the sofa had enough space for four. The longmoose¡¯s first instinct was to shove the cat away so she could secure her personal space, but she begrudgingly acquiesced when she realised that the Paunsean was quite literally quaking in her boots.


    Natalya¡¯s eyes were constantly shifting around, her hands were fidgeting uncomfortably, and her curled tail twitched every time someone walked down the hall. A quick experiment had confirmed that she would jump out of her seat and attach herself to the ceiling if poked in the side.


    ¡°Calm down.¡± Claire spoke in a whisper. The servants outside the door were sure to catch her voice if it was any louder. ¡°He¡¯ll only think you¡¯re suspicious. If you¡¯re nervous.¡±


    ¡°Please stop. That isn¡¯t helping,¡± mumbled the cat. She shot the lyrkress a teary glare before slowly shifting her weight towards her. ¡°Not everyone¡¯s used to talking to nobles, you know? Some of us are peasants that have to worry about keeping our necks.¡±


    ¡°I know. But that doesn¡¯t mean you should be leaning on me.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Natalya was confused until she turned her eyes on the lyrkress and finally realised the lack of distance. ¡°O-oh, sorry. I didn¡¯t realise¡­¡± She backed off in a hurry, her face as red as an apple and her tail flickering about.


    ¡°I said calm down, not get flustered. He¡¯s almost here.¡±


    ¡°R-right.¡± Still jittery, Natalya cleared her throat and sat up straight, just in time for there to be a knock on the door.


    An old sea creature wheeled in from the hall, accompanied by an entourage of servants. One was pushing his chair, one had a cart full of sweet treats, and one had both tea and hot water at the ready. There were even another three on standby, discounting the pair idling just outside the doorway. The sheer number was in such excess that Claire would have suspected that it was a ploy to see them encircled, had any fewer of the servants been children.


    Nearly all of the maids and butlers were younglings between the ages of 5 and 10, and the rest were hardly any older. The errand girl that they had already met¡ªthe maid currently standing behind the snack cart¡ªwas the only exception to what otherwise seemed like a rule.


    Claire found herself somewhat concerned by the man¡¯s tastes, but kept her mouth shut and quickly scanned his body. Though old and decrepit, the blueblood was incredibly muscular. The individual parts of his frame bulged with veins, and the musculature was further protected by a long series of pins and needles. The spikes that protruded from his spine were sharp enough for her to mistake them as weapons.


    But while she was certain that the old man was once a warrior, the lyrkress could discern little of his race. In a way, he almost resembled her true form. He had a snout and a tail, and his body was on the longer side, but that was where the similarities came to an end. His frame was unnaturally thin. Though over two meters long, he spanned only a dozen centimeters from left to right. The flippers sprouting from his chest were the only parts of him that couldn¡¯t easily be laid flat and hidden within a suitcase. They extended a full two meters in each direction and dragged along the floor behind him.


    ¡°Mornin¡¯ ladies, and welcome.¡± He greeted the group with a casual wave. His deep, gruff voice was a stark contrast to what was expected of a man in a ballroom dress. If not for his perfectly trimmed goatee, she would have assumed him a woman from appearances alone. ¡°I¡¯m glad you accepted my invitation, and on such short notice too.¡±


    His speech and mannerisms lacked all the respect and refinement expected of a man of his station, but that in and of itself was not unexpected. Members of the upper crust were known for fooling plebeians with their speech. A false sense of relatability was always an effective card to play when it came time for negotiations.


    ¡°Good morning. Thank you for inviting us to your home.¡± While Natalya bowed her head, Claire bothered with little more than a brief nod. With the Paunsean already volunteering herself as the party¡¯s speaker, she saw no reason to voice her thoughts out of turn. A lose-lose situation was all that awaited an undue verbal response; a curt reply would be taken as rude, and a polite one would reveal her knowledge of etiquette.


    ¡°The pleasure¡¯s mine. Now let¡¯s get right down to business.¡± Skipping the usual formal greeting, he gestured to one of the butlers, who presented a familiar, crystalline object. ¡°This is why I wanted to see you.¡±


    The item in question was one of Farenlight¡¯s horns, only polished, framed, and paired with an artist¡¯s wild interpretation of the monster that it had come from.


    ¡°Is there something wrong with it?¡± asked Natalya.


    ¡°Nothing like that.¡± He waved one of his flippers dismissively. ¡°This thing¡¯s sturdy as hell. Impresses me how tough it is, really. Getting it can¡¯t have been easy.¡±


    ¡°It was a hard fought battle, Sir.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure. Did you beat it on your own?¡±


    Natalya frowned. ¡°Not exactly. There were a number of Vel¡¯khanese soldiers on site when we first arrived, but they were defeated without inflicting any major wounds.¡±


    ¡°And those soldiers, were they kelpfin?¡±


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    ¡°They weren¡¯t, Sir,¡± said Lia. Claire tugged on the catgirl¡¯s sleeve in an attempt to get her to stop, but she failed to notice the signal and continued to speak. ¡°It was a group of scyphs specialised in earth magic. I believe that they had red emblems, but I can¡¯t remember how they were dressed.¡±


    The complete lack of any humanoid or serpentine features made it difficult to read the man¡¯s face, but even so, the lyrkress knew, the moment he began fiddling with his snout, that they had given him the answer he wanted.


    ¡°The group that you reinforced was one of the queen¡¯s personal units. They were a greener unit, but still royal guards all the same.¡± The count leaned forward in his wheelchair and rested his face atop his fins. ¡°Some of the squires did come back and report that a group of adventurers took over, and you two seem to match their descriptions.¡± He eyed Claire for a moment. ¡°At least mostly.¡±


    ¡°She can shapeshift,¡± explained Lia.


    ¡°Guess that explains that.¡± The old man removed Farenlight¡¯s horn from its frame and spun it around in his fins. ¡°That pretty much confirms that you¡¯re the ones we¡¯re looking for.¡± He pointed its crystalline tip out the window and waited for the adventurers¡¯ eyes to follow. ¡°So here¡¯s the deal. Our foreign friends over there are about to do the queen a favour and go plough their way through a dungeon. That¡¯s fine and dandy and all, but we wanted a few local groups to head in as well. Just to make sure nothing goes wrong.¡±


    ¡°Are you asking us to spy on them?¡± asked Natalya.


    ¡°Nah, nothing like that.¡± The misshapen fish waved off the question and shook his head. ¡°We just want you to head up into the dungeon, do what adventurers do, and report back. Plain and simple. You won¡¯t be the only group either. We¡¯ll be putting up a few notes on the job board, but the recommended level is gonna be four hundred, and we¡¯ve got maybe a few handfuls of those floating in and out of the city. Hard to say how many are gonna be interested, aside from the usual suspects.¡±


    ¡°That sounds simple enough¡­¡± muttered Natalya. ¡°Are there any other conditions? What¡¯s the pay?¡±


    ¡°For a two-week-long dive, you¡¯ll be given five pounds of silver per person, plus meals and transport. There might also be a performance bonus, but those will have to be evaluated on a case by case basis.¡±


    The cat¡¯s jaw nearly dropped, but Claire kept it in place with a vector.


    ¡°The conditions are pretty much standard for a quick spelunk. We need you to venture down to the dungeon¡¯s fifth floor at least, since we know everything we need about the floors that come before it. Besides that, it¡¯ll just be a quick paper to sum up everything you find, and you¡¯ll be done.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Lia. She pulled out the usual diary-cum-notebook and opened it to a blank page. ¡°Can you tell me a bit about what¡¯s already known? Specifically the terrain, the monsters, their levels and some of their behaviours.¡±


    ¡°Sure. I¡¯ve got time, and most of the juicy details on hand.¡± He looked at one of the youngest servants and lightly waved. ¡°Sa¡¯ahri.¡±


    It took a moment for the daydreaming servant to realise that she was being called, but she quickly snapped to attention in a way that only a child in trouble could.


    ¡°Y-yes Master?¡±


    ¡°Could you please go get the binder I left on my desk? The big brown one.¡±


    ¡°Okay, Master! I¡¯ll be suuuper quick!¡± The tiny kelpfin cheered before energetically hopping out of the room and down the hall.


    ¡°Most of the illustrations and other materials are in the file she¡¯s getting, but the dungeon¡¯s called Skyreach Spire, and it¡¯s hidden inside that giant cloud tower you see in the sky most of the time. The damn thing¡¯s constantly moving. It seems to change course day by day, but it¡¯s been slowly inching closer to the city ever since we first spotted it a few months back. The winds around it are harsh as hell, powerful enough to split an ascended turberus right down the middle, shell and all. Landing is pretty much a pain in the ass.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you¡¯re providing the transport?¡± asked Natalya. ¡°I doubt most groups are going to be able to do much of anything with ascended turberi ruled out.¡±


    ¡°You got it, kid.¡± The sea creature flattened his snout as he chuckled. ¡°We were brute forcing it at first, but that cost us too many soldiers and turtles. It¡¯s why we¡¯ve asked our Cadrian friends here for help. You see, their flying fortresses are a lot more durable than our giant sky turtles, and they should be able to get us into the dungeon a lot more consistently. I¡¯m not exactly keen on everything else that¡¯s come with it, but hey, you win some, you lose some.¡± He dipped his nose into his cup and inhaled a breath of tea. ¡°We¡¯d have done the same thing if we were them. But anyway, ignoring all the political bullshit, the point is, they¡¯re giving us a way to get through the door.¡±


    ¡°That would explain a lot¡­¡± said Natalya, as she furiously scribbled away. ¡°Does the dungeon start as soon as you break through the clouds?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly. There¡¯s an external hunting ground, and it¡¯d be a pretty good one if not for where the damn thing was. Heard there are some things around 300.¡±


    There was a knock at the door right as he finished speaking. The tiny maid entered right after with a binder larger than her upper body cradled in her arms.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got it Master!¡± she said. ¡°And there¡¯s a guest too! I think his name was uhmmmm¡­ Timmy¡¯is Poo¡¯lots? And he said something about stratafields and battlegies.¡±


    ¡°Right, I guess he¡¯s here to take me up on that offer,¡± he groaned. ¡°Alright, you can get one of the girls to send him over. He might as well be a part of this conversation, since his men¡¯ll be taking part. Just make sure he knocks before he enters.¡± He heaved a sigh and looked down at his garments. ¡°Well, at least I¡¯m already in formal wear, I guess. Sorry ladies, but I¡¯m going to have to¡­ pull a bit of a shift in tone. Gotta keep up appearances in front of these foreign dignitaries, y¡¯know?¡±


    When he looked back up, he saw not two girls, but one. The catgirl was still present with her eyes on her notebook and her quill against her chin, but her companion was nowhere to be seen.


    ¡°Err¡­ What happened to your friend?¡± he asked, with his brow raised.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Lia raised her head when addressed and adjusted her glasses. ¡°Uh¡­. I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m right here.¡±


    The voice came from the window, which soon opened despite there not being anyone nearby. ¡°I have to leave. Something came up.¡± Without waiting for a response, she leapt outside and closed the glass pane behind her.


    ¡°Rogues,¡± laughed the nobleman. ¡°It¡¯s always like that with them, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm, sorry,¡± said Natalya. ¡°She gets like that sometimes,¡± she said. ¡°And to be honest, I would also much rather discuss this some other time.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I get it.¡± He leaned back in his chair and folded his fins in his lap. ¡°They¡¯re not the most pleasant lot.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± she said.


    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s not a problem,¡± he said, with a dismissive wave. ¡°Come back whenever, and we can finish talking. I¡¯ll tell the guards to let you through. What was your name again?¡±


    The cat hesitated briefly, but swallowed her saliva and spoke. ¡°Lia.¡±


    ¡°Alright, see you soon. Probably tomorrow at the earliest. I doubt he¡¯s the kind to let me off easy.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Lord Ray¡¯esce.¡± She stood up and got to one knee, with the back of her fist pressed against her collar. A Paunsean salute. ¡°I really hate to ask this when you¡¯re already being so forgiving, but would you mind if I used the window?¡±


    The seahorse chortled. ¡°Be my guest. Just try not to damage the roof. It was quite the pretty penny.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± Getting to her feet, she put her writing utensils away and scampered to the windowsill. Just like her friend, she pushed open the glass and stepped out beneath the morning sun.


    With both girls gone, the old warlord was left to reminisce, to think about his own daughter, until a knock on the door brought a sudden end to the unexpected intermission.

 Chapter 182 - The Castle in the Sea III

    Chapter 182 - The Castle in the Sea III


    ¡°Took you long enough.¡±


    Natalya nearly jumped out of her skin when an invisible hand suddenly grabbed her by the shoulder, its familiar, calming scent the only thing that stopped her from screaming at the top of her lungs. She did fly a whole five meters into the air¡ªa rather impressive height for an impromptu leap¡ªbut a vector soon reeled her back towards the windowsill and into the bubble that contained her companions.


    When she spun around, with a hand pressed to her heaving chest, she found herself face to face with two entertained halfbreeds. One was looking irritatingly smug, while the other cackled and rolled about.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe that worked!¡± shouted Sylvia, between bouts of hysterical laughter. ¡°I think she might¡¯ve peed herself a little.¡±


    ¡°I told you,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I know! But I still didn¡¯t think she was gonna fall for it!¡±


    The cat took another few breaths before finally regaining the ability to speak. ¡°P-please don¡¯t ever do that again.¡±


    ¡°No promises.¡± Sticking out her tongue, the lyrkress glanced over her shoulder, at the window they had just exited. ¡°We can listen if you want. But I don¡¯t think we should.¡± She craned her neck upwards, towards the battleship in the sky. ¡°This is a good chance to sneak in.¡±


    ¡°Are you insane, Claire!?¡± The cat shouted in a whisper. She knew that the bubble suppressed her voice, but hesitated to speak at a normal volume with the manor¡¯s lord seated on the other side of the window. ¡°Can you imagine what¡¯d happen if we got caught!? It¡¯ll be an international incident! We¡¯d be wanted in all of Vel¡¯khan!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± The cat was silenced with a flick to the head. ¡°That¡¯s why I want to go now, while the hunter is away from his nest.¡±


    ¡°Does it really make a difference?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°There¡¯s no way he¡¯s gonna be able to see us through my bubble. It¡¯s got like sixteen layers of illusion magic built in.¡±


    ¡°It might.¡± Dragging the catgirl with a tail to the wrist, Claire leapt off the roof, spread her wings, and moved towards the Cadrian fortress. ¡°He¡¯s one of my father¡¯s lackeys. He¡¯s at least six hundred, and centaurs are better at detection than most.¡±


    ¡°I still don¡¯t really think it matters,¡± mumbled the fox.


    ¡°Wait, Claire! Hold on!¡± shouted Lia. ¡°What¡¯s even the point of sneaking on board in the first place!?¡±


    ¡°We can make it look like some of their parts broke down. And make it so they need more time before they can break through the wind.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that just going to make it so we can¡¯t get to the dungeon?¡±


    ¡°We have a fox.¡±


    ¡°Yeah! My bubbles are totally better than some dumb hurricane! We can bust right through!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Somehow, I find that kind of hard to believe,¡± said the cat, with a groan.


    The orange squirrel stood up on her hind legs and huffed, her hands on her hips. ¡°That¡¯s only ¡®cause you¡¯ve never tried to break one before! I can make them so sturdy that even I can¡¯t bust ¡®em open."


    ¡°Yes, but¡­¡±


    Leaving the other two to argue among themselves, Claire did a quick lap around the fortress and surveyed its key features. The count¡¯s carrier was far smaller than Augustus Manor. The central building itself was of a similar size, but everything else was drastically scaled down or removed altogether. The gardens were small enough for a team of three to manage on their own, the training grounds were barely large enough to simulate a small-scale battle, and there were only four tiny towers for defense, one in each corner.


    There was so little real estate that the onboard atelier was built right into the manor. Because the facility was renovated to please the eccentric artificers that worked it, it stuck out from the rest of the building like a sore thumb. Its exterior was made of wood instead of brick and it had a dozen metal arms growing out from its base, tools meant for the carrier¡¯s maintenance.


    As evidenced by the occasional shimmer and the odd unlucky bird, the fortress¡¯ barrier was deployed and active. It shrouded the entire floating castle in a thin but robust defensive layer. The magical shield would have to be reinforced to defend against any more powerful attacks, but it would hold so long as there wasn¡¯t a squad of level 500 mages at the ready.


    While it was certainly a powerful defensive structure, the battleship was not without its faults. There were several fixed openings used for ventilation, both near the structure¡¯s base and at its peak. They would remain open so long as the fort was not engaged in battle. The same was true of its front entrance; the space set aside for its boarding platform would also remain fully exposed. There were, of course, guards to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity, but the trained watchmen were no match for the almighty stealth bubble.


    Claire landed right in front of a bored-looking pair and walked past them, completely unconcerned with their presence. She carried herself as would the manor¡¯s owner and proceeded with such confidence that they would have been unlikely to stop her even if she had been visible.


    ¡°I¡¯m really not sure about this,¡± whispered Lia.


    ¡°Oh, come on! Stop worrying and think about how fun it is!¡± chirped Sylvia. A soft tune escaping her lips, she leapt off her usual seat and danced around in the grass. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like this before. I mean, besides the place we just visited that I wasn¡¯t allowed to play around in, but here I can do whatever, right, Claire?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± The lyrkress gave the cat¡¯s wrist another tug. ¡°Hurry up. You¡¯ll slip out of the bubble if you lag too far behind.¡±


    ¡°R-right.¡± Natalya took a deep breath. ¡°What did you say we were going to destroy again?¡±


    ¡°Everything!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Stupid fox.¡± Claire picked her up by the tail and lightly booped her nose. ¡°That would draw too much attention.¡± Taking the lead, she began by treading towards the atelier and all its moving parts. ¡°It depends. On how many artificers there are.¡±


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    If there were only a few, she was confident she would be able to wreak enough havoc by damaging the barrier device directly. Outright destroying it was sure to arouse suspicion, but literally throwing a wrench into the mechanism would pin the blame on one of the artificers¡¯ heads. The countless checks and evaluations to follow the repairs were sure to take a single worker a few days at least, and that was assuming they trusted him after he insisted that it was no fault of his.


    Peeking through the window, however, revealed that such an approach was impossible. There was a full team working within the atelier, a score of men, grinding away at the various metals that they were in the midst of enchanting.


    ¡°There goes that idea,¡± muttered the lyrkress.


    ¡°Are they making artifacts from scratch?¡± asked Natalya. ¡°I wonder what they''re for.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ weapons, maybe?¡± said the fox. ¡°They look like they go boom.¡±


    But while the lyrkress turned away with a grumble, her companions remained, their faces glued to the glass. One was focused on the craftsmen, her eyes sparkling and her tail swishing, while the other had pulled out her notebook and scribbled away.


    ¡°Shrapnel bombs,¡± said Claire, after taking a closer look. ¡°Nothing impressive. Only good for hunting monsters under level 100.¡±


    ¡°Then why are they making them?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Shrugging, Claire grabbed both her companions by the collar and dragged them away from the atelier. ¡°Stop dawdling. We should get our business done and leave. Before he comes back.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Natalya closed her eyes and slowly took a breath. ¡°Good point.¡±


    ¡°Awwww, do we have to be done here already?¡± Sylvia, on the other hand, continued to pout, even as she was lifted off the ground. ¡°I wanted to watch them make some more stuff.¡±


    ¡°The quicker we move, the fewer tracks we¡¯ll leave.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯re gonna be able to follow us anyway,¡± said the fox, with a groan.


    ¡°Well I do. Now let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°Fine! But you have to tell me everything you know about artifacts later! They were taboo back home, so I haven¡¯t really gotten to see much of it ever.¡±


    ¡°Your father¡¯s friend was an artificer.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s not like I actually knew him! Dad¡¯s friends were all boring old dudes.¡±


    Sylvia scampered up the length of Claire¡¯s hand, settling down atop her head as the group followed along the manor¡¯s wall. The entrance that they chose was not the front gate, but rather the first wide open window. Floating over the petunias positioned directly beneath its ledge, the longmoose drew the curtains and wandered inside.


    ¡°You mean back in the lost library?¡± Natalya asked the question as she was magically lifted and set on the floor.


    ¡°Mhm! Al, the celestial there, is really really really old fashioned and acts like artifacts are still taboo.¡±


    Hearing the statement again led Claire to bring her tail to her chin. It almost didn¡¯t seem to make any sense. Though certainly physically isolated from the other members of the pantheon, Alfred was connected to world chat. Even if a relatively old event, the unbanning of artifacts was the sort of change that would be announced and discussed. But while the half-moose thought the inconsistency strange, she decided not to question it. Something in the back of her mind warned against bringing it up. Even though she knew that she had gained enough divinity to stay connected for longer.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think most people care much for artifacts anyway,¡± said Natalya. ¡°I know some nobles like to collect them as novelties, but I don¡¯t think they¡¯re used much beyond that¡±


    ¡°Because Cadria keeps all the military technologies to itself,¡± said Claire. ¡°Most other countries don¡¯t have any proficient artificers to begin with. They can¡¯t replicate them and we hadn¡¯t exported much. Until recently.¡±


    ¡°I still don¡¯t understand how the barbarians were the ones to revive the dead craft in the first place,¡± mumbled the cat. ¡°Wait, Claire? Are you sure we¡¯re going the right way?¡±


    They were quickly approaching a dead end, with only one more room on each side. Both appeared to be bedrooms for the servants, like all the other suites that lined the end of the hall.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± The lyrkress¡¯ ears twitched as she answered. ¡°All of these are set up the same way.¡± After checking to ensure that there were no maids present, she walked into one of the bedrooms and placed her hand against a spot on the floor. ¡°Listen closely. You can hear them.¡±


    Having already done the same thing hundreds of times before, she felt around for three tiny bumps and channeled her magic into each. The mana spread through the device, completing a circuit that caused the hatch to slide open and reveal a corridor made of stone.


    ¡°Follow me. And don¡¯t touch anything.¡±


    The layout differed slightly from that of her home¡¯s, but it was similar enough that she was able to navigate it without any problems. She walked past the janitorial closet, with all the various weapons mounted therein, slipped by the conference hall, and waltzed straight into the bridge. Twenty uniformed soldiers were sitting within, working away at the various documents strewn atop their desks. Light streamed into the room from a crystalline window, a one-way pane of rock that prevented those outside the fortress from looking in.


    She had already confirmed that there was no way to significantly damage the barrier without arousing suspicion, so she shifted her focus to the communications module instead. Though it bore a fancy name, it was effectively a rock, paired with another located in the military¡¯s headquarters in Valencia. Any changes to one would be immediately mirrored by the other; they could easily relay their messages to and fro by scribbling them in chalk or ink. Acknowledgement of orders was just as easy. Wiping the slate clean would inform the party on the other end that their words had been received. The module was essential for maintaining the chain of command, and the Cadrians were rather stiff about moving without express orders. Removing it was sure to lead to a non-insignificant delay. The craftsmen onboard would be unable to make a replacement without the physical presence of its other half.


    The only tricky part would be taking it from under their noses, but she had a plan. Or at least she did, before a particularly lanky centaur stormed into the room with his chest heaving.


    ¡°We have a problem, Commander! There¡¯s an intruder onboard!¡±


    ¡°Oh crap¡­ I knew this was going to happen,¡± said Natalya.


    ¡°Wait what!?¡± Sylvia¡¯s eyes opened wide. ¡°My bubbles are perfect! How the heck did they find us!?¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. We have to go,¡± said Claire. ¡°Now.¡±


    Grabbing the catgirl with her tail and the fox with her hands, Claire snuck past the messenger and made for the great outdoors. She was tempted to use her vectors to magically seize the magical word rock, but there were already too many eyes on it. It was impossible for no one to notice.


    ¡°I need more details, soldier.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just one man, sir. Male, small but muscular frame, insectoid, likely an adventurer. He¡¯s currently overpowering the guards out front.¡±


    Her countrymen did her the favour of confirming that she wasn¡¯t the intruder mentioned, but she continued dashing at full speed regardless. She didn¡¯t want to run the risk of being onboard the ship when the carrier shifted to combat mode. The barrier would be sealed off, and they would be stuck inside for good.


    While she was confident that she could find a way to circumvent the defensive layer, doing so was sure to put the count¡¯s men on guard, and it was possible that the metrics they collected would allow for countermeasures that limited her options in the future. The best choice was to get as far away as possible, so that they would not be confused with the other trespasser.


    She happened to spot him out of the corner of her eye as she opened up a window and leapt outside. He was a tiny man in a suit of armour, fighting with a pair of emerald green blades that took the place of his hands. His helmet was down, but she could see through the slits that he had a pair of compound eyes, a sideways jaw, and a carapace as thick as his armour. He was obviously a rhiar.


    Tal¡¯ihirian mantises were famous enough for bards to sing songs of their deeds far and wide, for they were the ruthless defenders of Primrose¡¯s gardens, the reapers that would claim those that wrongly partook in the harvest goddess¡¯ bounty, and the killers whose prey would know no escape.


    But even so, he was doomed. The alarm bells were already ringing. It would only be a matter of time before the master of the house returned and ground him to paste.

 Chapter 183 - The Castle in the Sea IV

    Chapter 183 - The Castle in the Sea IV


    His runecloak obscuring his frame, the rhiar warrior leapt off his mount and worked the membranes of his wings. Though incapable of true flight, he launched himself with a power flap and fired his insectoid body through the sky. Entering from a previously identified weak point, he appeared inside the Cadrian barrier and greeted its guards with his blades.


    The practiced martial artist was pleased to discover that the foreign knights were every bit as skilled as the rumors described. Both the front gate''s guards reacted immediately; they raised their weapons without a shred of hesitation and warded off the scythes that grew from his arms. His second blow was deflected just as easily. One warrior sidestepped the attack and struck back with the butt of his spear while the other kicked his blade off course and delivered a heavy, overhead slash. Both attacks, he easily evaded.


    A third guard, watching from a nearby tower, sounded the alarm without joining the fray. Like both of his coworkers, he had immediately deduced the wisest decision. Matthias could see it in their eyes. They were skilled enough for the brief exchange to have taught all participants and observers their respective places.


    His mandibles chattering with joy, the tiny mantis evaded another slash and dove beneath the centaur that delivered it. He raised a claw and prepared to rip open its stomach, but a wing crashed into the side of his body and removed him from the supposed blind spot. A retaliatory kick followed, with a swing of the spear right behind it. Against a faster foe, it would have been a fatal mistake, but the horse-man was not particularly agile. A quick tumble carried the mantis out of harm¡¯s way.


    Chattering his jaws again, he stood up and looked at his Cadrian opponents through the slits in his helmet. Neither said a word, but both were furious. Their eyes were telling him they wished for him to put an end to his farce and remove his obvious handicap, to treat them not as weak children, but warriors willing to lay down their lives. Matthias could only imagine the discipline that it took for them not to scream at him in indignance. If he refused to kill them, they would only train harder so that they could face him again, their skills honed and further refined.


    A thought that practically led to a cackle.


    He wanted to take his sweet time drawing out all of their abilities, crushing all their trump cards to better further their training, but he shook off the thought, slurped up his drool, and placed his mission first. Diving back into the fray, he aimed his scythe at the closer warrior¡¯s neck. The lunging strike carried him through the air. His natural weapon cut right through his foe¡¯s wooden spear and made it almost all the way to the centaur¡¯s spine. Had his partner not charged his shield into Matthias¡¯ flank, he surely would have been granted the honourable death he so desired. But alas, he was not allowed to go to Vella¡¯s side. The wound closed almost immediately, his flesh stitching itself shut in a matter of seconds.


    It was a skill the mantis recognised; high-speed regeneration was an ability that most pure warriors could access, but it was meant to be used only after a battle¡¯s completion. It came with the side effect of excruciating pain, many times worse than the wound itself. Healing a laceration so deep in one¡¯s neck was sure to overwhelm the warrior¡¯s mind with enough agony to blank it. But the centaur stayed both silent and conscious, making not even a groan.


    Any lesser fighter would surely have found themselves faltering upon witnessing such a feat, but Matthias remained unintimidated. As a rogue, most notably one that specialised in assassinations, the mantis had expected his foes¡¯ durability to outclass his own. His chattering only growing louder, he charged in for another attack. He wished to fight them more slowly, but time was running short. He had no choice but to put an end to his tomfoolery and deprive both centaurs of their legs.


    He dashed back over to the entrance and sought his flying mount. But it was nowhere to be seen. When he clicked his tongue and turned around, he found a weapon flying straight for him, whistling through the air. It made contact with his chest; the force of the blow knocked him off the edge of the fortress and sent him plummeting back to the earth below. And that was not all the shieldlance accomplished. It clipped through the string that kept his cloak in place and revealed to the world the outfit he wore beneath it. It was a full suit of armour, covering everything but his scythe hands. Upon its chest sat a beautiful crest, a marking made of blues and reds, a marking that pledged his allegiance to one of the seven noble families that lived within the castle¡¯s grounds.


    ___


    ¡°This should be far enough.¡±


    Landing in an empty alleyway, Claire briefly looked over her surroundings before folding her wings back under her cloak. She had flown roughly halfway across the town and stopped in the most densely populated area she could find. Unsurprisingly, it was right next to the job board. The lunchtime rush had begun, with many adventurers, especially those active during the night, just waking up and looking forward to the long day ahead.


    Others were returning from their morning tasks, ready and willing to take on additional work and further bolster their paychecks. Few of the tasks listed on the board were as lucrative as spelunking, even for an average party, but the decreased danger levels paved a path to financial success for the risk averse. And while they were certainly plentiful, monster hunters, bounty hunters, and hired swords were not the only ones crowding the boards. There were also freelance artists, prostitutes, and those between jobs present in droves. Some were looking for one-off requests, odd tasks that they could pick up to keep their debtors at bay, while others sought permanent positions. Both types of work were frequently posted, as such had always been the way of the Vel¡¯khanese. The job board was a pillar that supported their culture of commerce. There was no such thing as a business that lacked the knowledge to take advantage of it. Even foreigners quickly caught on and exploited the valuable resource for all that it was worth.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you didn¡¯t believe in my bubbles,¡± huffed Sylvia. She stamped her feet against the longmoose¡¯s head, just hard enough not to draw retribution.


    ¡°Hunters are pesky.¡±


    ¡°I know, but I thought about it, and there¡¯s still no way I¡¯d lose! My bubbles are way too secure for some dumb hunters! Blessed or not!¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± asked Claire.


    Kael¡¯ahruus¡¯ favour was not to be taken lightly. The god of the hunt was a powerful deity with a concept widely practiced. The members of his pack, those granted fragments of his divine might, were often considered among a nation¡¯s most elite.


    ¡°Super sure!¡± Still, the fox remained confident. She stood tall, puffed up her chest, and tapped a paw against it.


    ¡°If you say so.¡± Deciding not to argue any further, the lyrkress turned her eyes on the party¡¯s final member, who watched over the pair with a perplexed frown. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Err¡­¡±


    ¡°Stop stalling. Just say it.¡±


    ¡°I think we might¡¯ve forgotten Boris.¡±


    The statement was met with a pair of slow blinks, with the two halfbreeds taking turns confirming his nonpresence soon after. Claire did it by reaching over her shoulder, whereas Sylvia craned her neck and looked beyond the edge of her seat.


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    ¡°Oh,¡± said one.


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± repeated the other.


    ¡°Don¡¯t just ¡®oh!¡¯¡± said the cat. ¡°We have to go back and get him. I know the maids know that he¡¯s with us, but if anyone el¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stop worrying.¡± Rolling her eyes, Claire magically seized the cat¡¯s lips and squeezed them shut. ¡°Watch.¡± She raised her other hand out in front of her and invoked one of the functions that had recently appeared in her menu.


    ¡°Uhhmmm¡­ Claire?¡± asked Sylvia, after a few seconds of waiting. ¡°Are you supposed to be doing something?¡±


    ¡°Summoning Boris.¡± It was her first time putting the function to the test. She had no idea what to expect.


    ¡°Right¡­¡± said the skeptical fox.


    ¡°Just wait. I think it¡¯s working,¡± mumbled the lyrkress. The reality of the situation was, of course, that it wasn¡¯t. Tracking the lizard revealed that he was in the exact same place as he was before, and somehow or another, she even got the impression that he was shrugging off her orders, perhaps because his brain was only half functional.


    Eventually, after trying to prod him for a minute or so, and receiving a slightly different impression each time, Claire tucked her arms back under her cloak and pulled her hood over her eyes. ¡°I give up. We¡¯re abandoning Boris.¡±


    The proposition was, of course, met with resistance from both her companions, but the lyrkress continued to walk in the opposite direction. Because the connection between them had eventually revealed the true reason for the lizard¡¯s delay.


    At that very moment, the ikarett type arms found himself engaged in a life or death struggle. He was fighting to keep his eyes open, even as they screamed at him to blink. They were completely dried out, like a dead cactus in the desert, a skeleton turned to ash, or perhaps even the cracked earth itself. His opponent had him on the brink. There was not a single drop of liquid left in either socket. Still, he desperately resisted the urge to give in.


    His very existence hinged on winning the staring contest with the creature situated in front of him. It was a kindred spirit, one of his kind. But at the same time, it wasn¡¯t. It was only sort of like him; he didn¡¯t know exactly what it was, or why they stared at each other to begin with. But whatever the case, the blubbery ball, whose forehead came equipped with a distinctive, cross-shaped mark, was unrelenting. Its eyes were practically hidden beneath all its fat, but he could tell. They were the same. It was also struggling to keep its eyes from closing.


    Boris was feeling the pressure. Opening his eyes had stopped feeling right, after he changed. He could see even when they were closed, and his pit organs were more accurate to begin with, but he was unable to shake his habits.


    Upon further consideration, the lizard came to realise that he did not truly have eyes at all. He was just a slab of metal with the ability to transform his body. He had no flesh or blood. The beating thing in his chest was gone. It only stood to reason that his eyes were no different. Even if he could see them reflected in the blubbery ball¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°You¡¯re an idiot.¡±


    He felt like he heard something from the link he shared with his mistress, but he ignored it, his focus remaining on the enemy. He began to wonder, as he continued to stare, if his foe was one that truly existed, or a mere figment of his imagination, and soon concluded that only the latter could be correct. It was too devilishly handsome to be an adventurer, which meant that it could only have been an ikarett or a klimgor. And there were none with only two limbs. Such a creature would perish the moment it was happened upon by a group of explorers, unless it happened to be transformed into a weapon, in much the same manner as he.


    Eventually, he gave up. His non-present eyes forced themselves shut, but so too did his rival¡¯s. Neither had been able to hold on for much longer than the other. It was a draw, a result that left both parties dissatisfied. It took not a glance for the two to instantly confirm the other''s intentions. Turning around in tandem, they each marched off and engaged in an escalation of cataclysmic proportions.


    Scampering around the garden, Boris gathered the most impressive items he could find, just as did his opponent. They reconvened when the clock struck twelve, each with exactly three new possessions in tow. Confident, Boris showed his first hidden treasure, a large stone that was slightly too square to flip. His nemesis could only reel back in shock as her own disgusting round rock slipped out from her flippers.


    A solid victory, and a good start.


    With his momentum driving him forward and the wind blowing back his non-existent hair, the ikarett presented his second exhibit. It was a piece of string, a rare find by any measure. But while it was nothing to scoff at, his opponent regarded it with a look of dismissal. An obese, triumphant bark emerging from her gullet, she presented a true masterwork in the form of a dried out worm.


    It was like a blow to the gut, heavy enough to force him to take half a step back. Denial struck him full force. He wanted to raise his tail to the sky and scream in protest, to call upon the gods and slander them for the injustice that they delivered upon the world, but he held in his rage, fought back his despair, and looked forward. He was not out of cards. The most powerful tool in his arsenal had yet to be employed.


    On the count of three, they presented their final phantasms in tandem.


    Hers was the dumbest creature he had ever seen, a round, fluffy rodent with two floppy ears and a ribbon tied to one. It was an impressive display, but seeing it only widened the smug grin on Boris¡¯ face. He already knew that he won. Purring, he pushed forward his own findings with his snout and allowed the loser to bask in her despair.


    While she had presented him a creature, he put forth a good derived therefrom. It was a rabbit pellet, a god-felling weapon refined and taken even further beyond by the bunny¡¯s very own gullet. They both knew that he had won. He raised his head and declared victory, while she collapsed into a sad blob.


    But then, just as he began to celebrate, he found the tables turned. Its eyes never breaking contact, the hellbeast hopped over to its pellet and consumed it. And by ingesting his already powerful superweapon, it stepped into a realm far beyond any rock or string, one that could only be matched by a pantheon of heroes.


    Boris fell flat on his belly. He was so shocked that he lost control of his legs. They were turned from steel to jelly, solid metal to liquid depression. She was too powerful.


    But there was no way he could possibly lose to a lizard with only two legs. He had his honour, his pride to uphold, and his duty to serve as an all-piercing spear.


    Eyes filled with renewed vigour, he raised his head to meet his foe¡¯s gaze, his heart ablaze with ardent fury, a burst of raw passion powerful enough to move even the god of the inner flame. There was no other choice but to gamble every last fibre of his being on one final act of resistance, on seeing her completely defeated in a contest whose strength lay not in his realm.


    Closing his eyes, he got ready to take on the challenge, but found himself rudely interrupted. A portal opened up right beneath him and transported him beyond the realm of his rival¡¯s purview.


    ¡°There! Got him!¡± said Sylvia.


    Despite his protests, his mistress thanked the fox with a scratch to the chin and mounted him to her back, as she always did. He could only despair. To his foe, it would have looked as if he ran, as if he forfeited the duel and thereby his very existence. And for the next three and a half seconds, he was convinced that he would be erased, replaced, deleted.


    But a blubbery ray of hope shined through right as the fox began to close her portal. The lardy projectile squeezed past its gates, with the satanic rabbit in tow.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked. ¡°Wait a second¡­ Marc?¡±


    ¡°Marcelle,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Oh, whatever!¡± shouted the fox. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what we call her!¡±


    ¡°Yes it does. Names are important.¡±


    ¡°Ughhh! Come on, Claire! Would it kill you to be just a little less stubborn?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Liar!¡± The fox floated to her usual place and lightly drummed the top of the lyrkress head, but her attack was disregarded.


    ¡°I think I¡¯m a bit lost.¡± Natalya looked between the group and the manatee, who was casually waiving one of its flippers. ¡°Is this someone you know?¡±


    ¡°Yup! But she¡¯s supposed to be back in Llystletein¡­¡±


    The fox¡¯s comment was answered with a number of squeals and barks. The manatee drummed its own stomach to create several ripples in its fat and walked a flipper through it.


    ¡°Wait, Al let you out?¡± asked the fox. Her already wide eyes expanded further when the manatee grunted again. ¡°What do you mean, he let everyone out!? What the heck! That¡¯s so unfair!¡±


    Sylvia continued fuming as she listened to the sea cow¡¯s explanations, only to suddenly freeze up after a few moments¡¯ worth of conversation.


    ¡°What?¡± asked Claire. She had been paying attention to the stupid sea steak, but she lacked the context to deduce its intent from its body language.


    ¡°Uhhhmmmm¡­¡± The fox responded with a nervous laugh. ¡°I think Marcelle might¡¯ve accidentally gotten herself involved with someone that¡¯s trying to overthrow the government.¡±

 Chapter 184 - The Castle in the Sea V

    Chapter 184 - The Castle in the Sea V


    A small frown on her face, Claire sat up from her bed and looked around the familiar room. Everything was in its rightful place. She was wearing her nightgown, her canopy bed¡¯s curtains were closed, and there was a servant standing by just outside the door. The few birds dumb enough to make their roost in the manor¡¯s garden were chirping, and the sun was already on the horizon. Even without access to the window, she could see it through her curtains. Just like she could every other morning.


    The only difference, if she was to really call one to attention, was that everything was more vivid than she was accustomed to. Her enhanced eyesight provided the opportunity to see just how soft and silky her bedding and clothing really were. She had already known, of course. She had long made her runecloak take on all the same properties, whenever she wished to rest and relax.


    She yawned after taking in her surroundings again and scooted to the foot of her bed. A brief hint of annoyance passed through her mind when she realised that the negligee draped over her shoulders lacked the ability to magically transform into a blouse or dress of her choosing. Fortunately, she was at home, where dressing herself had never been her own responsibility to begin with.


    Her body felt just as out of place as the last two times she had dreamt about the manor. Her arms were still noodly, and her bones still nonpresent, but the lack of structure didn¡¯t stop her from reaching for the bejeweled bell sitting upon her rosewood nightstand. She stared at it briefly, and looked at her own flat-chested reflection in its beautiful platinum handle, before ringing it and calling for the maids.


    ¡°Good morning, My Lady.¡± The cottontail servant outside her door entered immediately and greeted her with a curtsy.


    ¡°Good morning, Amanda.¡±


    The maid appeared taken aback at first, but quickly recovered and pulled the curtains apart. Without a word, she continued along with the rest of her duties and wrapped Claire in one of the near countless dresses that lined her wardrobe. Following the game of dress up was the combing of the lady¡¯s hair. Amanda lacked Beatrice¡¯s exemplary skill, but her work was by no means subpar. She compensated for her poor dexterity by selecting a simpler style, a set of knots and braids that wrapped around the back of her head. It would not have been fancy enough for a social gathering, but on an ordinary day, it was arranged well enough to ensure that the lady would not be disgraced.


    ¡°Breakfast will be ready as soon as you make it to the dining hall,¡± said the maid. ¡°The professor will also be joining you this morning, I believe, for a private discussion.¡±


    ¡°I understand. Please inform her that I will be down shortly.¡±


    ¡°Right away, My Lady.¡±


    Unlike the maid, who hurried out of her room, Claire took her sweet time, looking herself over in the mirror. Though her frame had defaulted to the shape she had possessed just a few months prior, she found that she had a surprising amount of control over the goop that she was. It adjusted as she desired, even more easily than her real body, and with far greater flexibility and malleability. Even growing a hand from her forehead seemed to work, though it wound up throwing her off balance.


    After a few bouts of playing around, she attempted to switch to her new humanoid default, in spite of the accompanying discomfort in the area around her chest. The clothes were slightly too tight, tailored to perfectly fit her previous form. Her tail also appeared to suffer from a problem of sorts. It was unable to grow to its usual length, and forcing it to scale came with an unintended reduction in her height. As she didn¡¯t think it right to have feet but no legs, she eventually gave up and allowed it to remain at a moderate length. Heaving a small sigh, she tucked it under her dress, where it was invisible, and set out to see her tutor.


    Some of the servants were rude enough to find themselves surprised when she greeted them on her way down the hall, but she ignored the strange reactions and continued through the manor, proceeding as usual until she arrived at her destination. Her senses began to distort when she stepped into the dining room. Her head started to spin and the various sounds she heard grew distant. The voices lost volume with each step she took, like she was going deaf.


    Her mind wandering, she began to consider the possibility that the dream was meant to be some sort of premonition¡ªthat deafness was one of the fates that rear its head in the near future. The suspicion lasted until she sat at the table, right across from the cottontail that awaited her, a number of files and documents in hand. She began talking about something or another, but Claire could not be bothered to pay attention. Her lack of a response had nothing to do with the state of her hearing. The magus¡¯ words still came through, albeit as quietly as whispers, but her mind resisted the thought of processing them, of turning them from sounds to concepts that she could understand.


    There was no purpose in wasting her brain power. All of Allegra¡¯s lectures always ended with one of the two still speaking and the other sound asleep. While no one else quite seemed to agree, Claire had long understood that the greatest witch in all the northern lands had chosen the wrong career. She was much better at attending to cribs than she was capable of teaching any students.


    Claire¡¯s behaviour was nothing out of the ordinary. She conducted herself the exact same way she always had in Allegra¡¯s presence, but found herself the subject of a strange look regardless. The professor raised a brow and adjusted her wide-rimmed glasses, as she would when observing a spell that failed to perform its function.


    It certainly annoyed her, but Claire ignored it the same way she did everything else. Thanking the servant that delivered her breakfast, she focused all her attention on the plate¡¯s contents instead. It was the first time in a long while that she had been served one of Amereth¡¯s dishes. At a glance, the breakfast platter appeared to be made of simple ingredients. It was just an omelette with a sausage and a side of soup, but she knew that the master chef would never fail to impress.


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    Claire started with the bowl, dipping her spoon into the sparkling pumpkin bisque. Its colour was almost perfectly uniform, save for the greens sprinkled on top, but its flavours were outstanding. She could very easily taste the squash that was its base, the onions and coriander that went into enhancing it, the liquid chocolate whose bitterness downplayed the concoction''s almost excessively sweet flavour, and the countless spices that blended together, complimenting each other in a way that made it truly delicious. A work of art in a bowl, unlike everything else she had eaten in recent times.


    The other foods she had been delivered were no different. The sausages were packed with herbs and meaty mushrooms, and the omelette had a blend of flavours from the deep south, rare seasonings that could only be found in the desert beyond the great forest.


    Upon finishing her meal and asking for seconds, she looked towards Allegra, whose eyes had practically popped out of their sockets. The witch was muttering under her breath at an incredible pace, background sounds that left the lyrkress incredibly annoyed.


    She focused her gaze on the rabbit-eared tutor and activated the magic imbued in her eyes at full strength. The spell didn¡¯t feel quite right. Her eyes lit up, but not with as much energy as they should have, and the rabbit was only paralyzed, not frozen despite her intentions. It was an irksome, unplanned outcome, but not necessarily one that failed to serve her purposes.


    Her tail lashing out, she prodded the annoying lecturer in the cheek and applied an ample dose of bee venom.


    ¡°Serves you right.¡± Claire stuck out her tongue, and freezing the rabbit¡¯s hands to the chair, lightly jabbed her again, and again, and again, and again. The attack grew less playful and more violent with each repetition, as her resentment began to leak. Allegra was the one that had put everything together. And she had known, from the very start, why Claire was made a ritual mage.


    There had been pity in her eyes when the decision was first made, but it soon vanished into the ether. She fell into her duties as if they were nothing out of the ordinary, as if she wasn¡¯t condemning the unknowing child to an inevitable demise. And she never tried to correct her father¡¯s abuse despite always pretending to care. She was the one that fussed over her before her functions, the one that pretended to lend her ears and lap, the one that tried to dress herself up as someone that could provide comfort. She loved to play the role of a false foster mother. But she never did anything to ease any of the pain and frustration. It was all for her own ego, so she would think she was doing the halfbreed a favour, by turning her into an expendable tool.


    The urge to strangle her bubbled up from within the lyrkress¡¯ chest, but she lacked the power, just as how she lacked the power to do any harm with her tail. Allegra was completely unbothered by the attacks. Even with the longmoose lashing out at full force, and her hands around her neck, she continued to observe, her eyes twinkling with curiosity and interest.


    It was a sight that only compounded the blue blood¡¯s frustration, one that confirmed she was not seen as an individual, but the subject of the witch¡¯s research. She could feel her tears flowing down her cheeks, even though she didn¡¯t know that she had them to begin with. Allegra had never felt like someone to cry over, someone whose affection she had pined for, or even an opinion that mattered. But through the confrontation, she realised that she was. She hated admitting it, but even if only for self-serving reasons, the cottontail had treated her as would an incompetent, clumsy mother.


    And it was with that realisation that the last vestiges of her strength left her body. Her mind went with it; she began to float higher and higher, further and further away from the scene, with her speed constantly ramping. Soon, everything began to blur. She felt as if she could have easily visited the phantom¡¯s home if she wanted, from her state of transition, but decided to shelve it for another night. There was little she could glean from him with her mind in the state it was. So she closed her eyes and went back to where she belonged.


    A small frown on her face, Claire sat up from her bed and looked around the unfamiliar room. She had already spent several nights in the huskar-owned building, but still found it foreign and uncomfortable. Pinpointing the problem was impossible, but it certainly was not a lack of luxury. The building was fancy enough to satisfy any noble guest, and it was also for that reason that its bookings were so infrequent. Commoners could not afford the price that came with its service. They too could not have afforded it if not for Olga¡¯s generosity.


    With a stretch and a shake of the head, she scanned the room and confirmed the usual, almost obscene pet count. Sylvia was right by her pillow, curled with her head on her tail, Boris was lying flat on the ground, sunbathing right next to the window, and Marcelle was floating around in midair, sound asleep, with her flippers resting on her belly.


    It had been a full week since they decided to ignore the revelation of the sea cow¡¯s unintended affiliation. The group had spent their days picking up tasks from the job board and completing whatever happened to catch their eye. Because they had no idea when they would be called back to the castle, they had stuck to simpler tasks. All their assignments were brief missions that could be finished in anything from a few hours to a day.


    Despite Natalya growing accustomed to air travel, they were unable to get far enough from the city to gain any significant experience. She had gained no levels in their downtime, and yet, the moose-snake had found their day job strangely fulfilling. It was a long overdue break from risking her life around every corner. She had enjoyed herding cattle, hunting local beasts, and functioning as a guard for a local ball. On one occasion, she and Natalya had even split up to do different things, only to reconvene at night and merrily discuss their respective achievements over dinner.


    They had been attacked by Glarchst¡¯s devotees at least three times throughout their miniature adventures, but each entourage was weaker than the last. The villains almost seemed more like entertainers than they did threats, minor inconveniences present only to spice up their lives and add extra colour where it was missing.


    All the various elements came together to give Claire the impression that Vel¡¯khagan made for a fine place of residence. It was nowhere near as advanced as Valencia, lacking many of its crucial technologies, but it was not without everything required for it to come together as a cohesive, enjoyable unit. And while they were certainly on guard against anything that even vaguely resembled a centaur, its people were a major contributor. They were incredibly friendly. Some of those that shared in their morning commute would even recognize and greet them along the way¡ªthough Claire suspected that it was only because they were a pair, or sometimes a trio, of lovely maidens. Her beauty was unparalleled, after all.


    She smiled to herself as she got out of bed, changed, and stepped out of the room. There would be some time before the others rose. The sun was only barely above the horizon, its rays dyeing the city in a beautiful yellow-orange splendor. Only Natalya would sometimes rise early, and even that was unlikely. The lazy cat often preferred to sleep in when she could¡ªa bucket of cold water was the only way to force her to her feet.


    While the longmoose was certainly tempted to deliver just that, she decided, for once, to let her off without any harassment. Stepping out onto the veranda, she stretched her wings and took off, a quick morning flight to greet the day ahead.

 Chapter 185 - The Castle in the Sea VI

    Chapter 185 - The Castle in the Sea VI


    ¡°I hate this part.¡±


    Claire muttered under her breath as she stared up at the towering job board. There were hundreds of requests plastered all over it, far too many to make an optimal selection. She had not the faintest clue where she was supposed to start, or why everyone else was able to quickly pick their tasks and leave.


    The roundest member of the party was just as flabbergasted. Flippers flapping wildly, Marcelle was hovering in place, her eyes blank and her mind completely numb. She failed to respond when she was poked, be it with a light prod or a violent pinch. It was truly a powerful state of mind, clearer and more focused than that of a master swordsman. But while the two ocean-adapted life forms were in over their heads, their landlocked companions were happily combing through the list.


    ¡°Oh, what about this one!¡± Sylvia, who was sitting atop the manatee, pointed to a particularly flashy entry featuring a doodle of a fish.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± Natalya tapped her quill against her chin before responding with a shake of the head. ¡°Liverfish are easy marks, but they¡¯re a little too far for it to be worth the effort. It might¡¯ve been worth it if the pay was a little higher, but I think we should be trying for something more ambitious.¡±


    ¡°Aww¡­ I wanted to try eating some. Fine! Then what about this one?¡±


    ¡°I think that one might be a little too ambitious,¡± said the cat, with an awkward smile.


    Following the vixen¡¯s paw, Claire found a request asking for a dozen leviathan shells, perfectly intact without even the slightest hint of damage. The pay was certainly much better than her previous selection, three pounds of silver compared to only a tenth of one, but it was impossible to fulfill, even with a dungeon that featured a leviathan as its boss. The endless supply did nothing to mitigate the fact that the monsters were level 1000 or higher. A completely unblemished shell was not the sort of good that could be so easily acquired.


    ¡°Yeah, I guess you¡¯re right. Leviathans are really yucky. I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be able to eat a whole ten of them.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s always about eating with you, isn¡¯t it?¡± said Natalya, with a giggle.


    ¡°Yup! Nothing¡¯s better than fresh fish. Oh, except maybe the dried fish my dad makes. I dunno how he does it, but he makes them super yummy.¡±


    ¡°Was your dad the elf or the fox?¡±


    ¡°Elf! My mom was the fox, and the fairy thingy.¡± The vixen stretched out her back, as far as it would go, and scanned the board again. ¡°Oh! What about that one? It looks easy enough! And the pay seems pretty good too.¡±


    ¡°Let me see¡­¡± Natalya adjusted her glasses and looked up at the entry. ¡°That one doesn¡¯t seem too bad. We should be able to finish it by early afternoon.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like that one.¡± Finally stepping forward and contributing to the conversation, Claire grabbed the fox off the manatee¡¯s back and pulled her into her arms. ¡°It sounds like a pain.¡±


    The task in question was to guard a venue while a group of merchants held a public auction. At a glance, it seemed like a low effort job that involved little but standing around, but any batch of goods valuable enough to guard was likely to attract the wrong crowd. Worse yet, it wasn¡¯t just the external factors they needed to protect against. Keeping an eye on the various members of the group, as well as the customers was sure to be a headache in and of itself.


    ¡°Awww¡­ I guess we¡¯re gonna be stuck doing the first one then.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Sylvia. It really isn¡¯t going to be as bad as it looks,¡± said Natalya.


    ¡°But that one needs us to go back into the forest! There aren¡¯t gonna be any fish!¡±


    With a groan and a squeal, Marcelle floated in front of the board and pointed at one of the choices.


    ¡°Oh! That one seems like it could be kinda decent,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ yeah, you¡¯re right,¡± agreed the cat. ¡°I¡¯m going to go check with the clerk to see if it¡¯s still available.¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯m gonna see if there¡¯s anything else that looks like it¡¯d be fun.¡± She floated out of Claire¡¯s arms and hovered up to the top of the board, where she scanned the various entries that otherwise would have required her to crane her neck to an uncomfortable degree.


    The lyrkress alone was left to stare at the sea cow, her held tilted in confusion. ¡°You can read?¡±


    Shaking her head, Marcelle confirmed the answer as a definitive no. She rolled around in the air and squealed, nearly running into the other job seekers¡¯ heads as she ridiculed the idea of a manatee knowing enough Marish to read. And though she knew that she was being watched, Claire was tempted to kick back, relax, and join her. A pair of eyes had been following the group ever since they stepped out of the inn. She had never quite pinpointed the observer¡¯s location, but the gaze was intense, impossible to miss.


    Grabbing a very confused Marcelle by tail, the longmoose left the job board and made for the alleys. Sylvia spun around and gave her a look, but a quick whisper silenced the fox¡¯s concerns and saw her eyes returned to the listings.


    Feet pounding against the paved stone streets, Claire dashed at an incredible speed. She made a dozen quick, snappy turns, but never managed to break line of sight. The eyes remained squared on her back from start to finish. By the twentieth intersection, she was already too fed up to allow the farce to continue. Spinning around, she struck her shadow with a quick punch. The building behind it was scarred by the attack. Massive cracks spread along its walls and threatened an imminent collapse, but the tagalong was perfectly unharmed. The dark reflection distorted when she attacked it, warping to create a hole in its structure large enough for her hand to pass through. The mage within had made their presence obvious, but they refused to reveal themselves even under the threat of violence.


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    She threw two more punches, but both were met with similar results. The wall was the only thing that was hurt. Her lips twisting into a scowl, Claire magically grabbed the shadow and peeled it off the stone background. Just like the wind and lightning, the supposedly incorporeal object was seized and put under her control. It stretched and distorted to break free of its bindings, but she pulled it back each time it tried to get away.


    It wasn¡¯t until it suddenly lunged that she had to let go. The shade erupted into a thousand spikes in an attempt to destroy her hands, but a shove sent it flying back into the wall, the impact revealing a brief glimpse of the caster that lurked within.


    Not missing the opportunity, Claire seized the woman with a vector and tore her from the shadow, only for her to burst into a bloody mist. The crimson particles moved with a life of their own and charged straight at Marcelle, who was still investigating the half-broken wall. With more fluid seemingly coming out of nowhere, the crimson tide expanded and formed a net large enough to swallow the manatee whole. But again, the caster was grabbed. Neither transformation had prevented the lyrkress from registering her as a single entity.


    Drawing Boris, Claire batted at the wave with a hefty, two-handed swing, but to no avail. The blood washed right off the living weapon, with not even a fraction of it sticking to the metal club. Likewise, the lizard was completely unbothered by the impact. Claire was the only one to come out of the exchange with damage to her name. The bits of blood that touched her hands tore away at her skin and scales, and the fluids that seeped from her injuries were only used against her. Moving with a life of its own, the scarlet tide dug into her pores and ripped apart her flesh, shredding it like a wheel of cheese seduced by a grater.


    The more blood it drew, the more powerful the attack became, and the more the biting wounds hurt.


    Her foe had put her in check. But not checkmate.


    The lyrkress enabled her aura with a stomp and sent a pulse of magic through her surroundings. All the blood in her vicinity began to freeze. The icy crystals raced through the crimson tide like horses around a track before crackling through the air and shattering to bits. Her enemy was forced to retreat. With the blood droplets flying away, and the shadows fleeing, she revealed her true form.


    Though almost entirely humanoid, her species was one that the lyrkress failed to recognize. Arranged into a ponytail, the bangs of her jet-black hair obscured many of her identifying features. But her eyes were still apparent. Peeking out from between her luscious strands, they shone with a deep, crimson light, and carried the ravenous look of a chained wolf. Her face was covered in light blue markings with one shaped like a moon on her forehead, and two claw-like lines across each cheek. Similar tattoos could be seen wherever her silken dress was torn and her skin left exposed. Her hands, her legs, and even her obscenely voluptuous chest hosted the arcane symbols denoting her dedication to Griselda¡¯s worship.


    A hand on her frayed, pointed hat, the woman was panting, still breathing. Until a malformed blade pierced her stomach and exited through her spine with half her guts in tow.


    It was Boris. His eyes and mouth were still visible, but he had transformed into something completely unalike his previous form. The end of his snout had become a jagged point accompanied by a quartet of serrated edges. Each had a base roughly two inches thick, but the tips of their blades were easily sharp enough to rend flesh and bone alike.


    Leaving the weapon where he was, Claire followed the stab with another. Her tail shot through the witch¡¯s chest and impaled her through the lungs, while her newly freed hands grabbed her by the neck. She was confident, but the mage turned into a puddle of blood and vanished into a shadow before she could be frozen again.


    Eyes narrowed, Claire twisted the shadow the witch entered, but she hopped to another before she could be wrung out. The lyrkress kept up the assault, but the hemomancer continued to evade capture and soon vanished around the corner. Catgirl detector kept her location pinpointed, but all the twists and turns that came with the alleys made it difficult to keep up. Slowly, her prey created distance between them, but it was invalidated when the frustrated lyrkress gave up on remaining incognito and spread her wings.


    To minimize the risk of recognition and exposure, she changed her form and outfit. Her body was swapped to its new four-legged, half-humanoid default, and her cloak was turned into the sort of costume often worn by assassins and bandits. Her face was covered with a cloth mask, her frame wrapped in thick pieces of leather, and her back covered by a ragged mantle made of moth-bitten fabric. There were even two blades on her hips. Both were meant purely for decoration. Her real weapon had been ordered to keep an eye on Marcelle, just in case one of the attacker¡¯s accomplices circled back for the manatee while she was looking away.


    ¡°Claire? What¡¯s going on?¡± Sylvia¡¯s familiar weight appeared on her head as she pumped her wings. She was flying low, both to avoid the air traffic, and to ensure that the mage would fail to spot her.


    ¡°They finally came. The people Marcelle was working with.¡±


    ¡°Oh! Finally! Took them long enough,¡± said Sylvia, with a wag of the tail. ¡°So what¡¯re we gonna do? Follow them, beat the crap out of them, and save the day?¡±


    Claire pursed her lips and crossed her arms. ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡±


    Sylvia¡¯s suggestion was certainly an option, but Marcelle had not been able to tell them much, and she doubted that it would be wise to storm their base uninformed. If their goal really was to murder the queen, as the sea cow had claimed, then they were sure to have fighters on par with, or perhaps even better than the local royal guard. But at the same time, they had been the ones to pick the fight, and the lyrkress had no intention of backing down from a challenge.


    ¡°But I¡¯m at least going to follow her.¡±


    ¡°Okay! Want a bubble?¡±


    ¡°No. I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Scratching the fox¡¯s chin, she picked up the pace again and continued to chase the mysterious mage. It was a long pursuit, requiring her to leave the city and dive beneath the waves. They went far east, travelling for over an hour. When she finally came to a stop, it was outside of a narrow gorge that led deep into the sea. The valley was hidden within an unassuming stretch of narrow shore, obscured by the seaweeds, corals, and fish that made up the reef around it.


    Catgirl detector had already lost track of the woman. Her trail was still present, but her presence had vanished as soon as she entered the gorge, and a glance was enough to confirm the reason. There was a rapid, submarine current running within the trench. She had no idea how far it went, or where it would take her. Still, the lyrkress leapt in, after only the briefest of delays.


    ¡°Huh!? Wait! Claire! I really don¡¯t think this is a good idea!¡± said her hat.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    There was no telling how deep the rabbit hole went, but Claire proceeded with utmost confidence. Diving into the depths provided her with a long awaited chance, an opportunity to push her new body to its limits and see just what all four of her forms could do.

 Chapter 186 - The Castle in the Sea VII

    Chapter 186 - The Castle in the Sea VII


    Riding the currents and crashing through the waves, Claire found herself enjoying a strange sense of liberation. Steering was the limit of her influence. The waterways decided her direction and it was impossible to reduce her speed beyond an unreasonable minimum, but it felt more like a controlled fall than a plummet to her death. Further adding to her confidence was the abnormal state of her body. It felt like she was brimming with energy, a sensation that only grew stronger as she got further into the depths.


    Though she certainly relished in the experience, her mind remained focused on the task at hand. She continued to look and listen for any traces of her prey, but there was little to be immediately discovered. Catgirl detector refused to reveal the shadow mage¡¯s location until just a few minutes before the jetstream finally petered out.


    The longmoose was deposited in a large basin, an underground cavern lit only by the magical lamps hanging from its ceiling. The entrance she took was only one of the many ocean currents leading in and out of the cavern. The paths reminded her vaguely of the foxholes that Sylvia had used to get around Mirewood Meadow, albeit without the inviting mystique.


    Further contributing to the dark ambiance was the half-destroyed building that sat within the underwater grotto. Made entirely of stone, it almost reminded her of a castle in a fishbowl scaled up to a liveable size. Like Vel¡¯khagan¡¯s main attraction, the fortress was once made up of pure white rocks, but the years had not been as kind to it as they had the country¡¯s final bastion. Its stone walls were filthy and unclean, stained over time with all manner of dirt and debris. There were visible scars where it had been struck by swords, spells, and ballistae alike. It was dreary and desolate, even with the cavern¡¯s lights reflecting upon it. The tens, if not hundreds of thousands of fish swimming in and out of its windows further evidenced its dilapidation, and so too did the seaweed that grew from between the cracks of its stones.


    She knew that the blood mage was inside. Her skill¡¯s tracking functionality pointed straight to one of the eerily lit rooms and even revealed that she was leaning against the wall, likely waiting for one person or another.


    It was difficult to pick out exactly how many there were within the fortress¡¯ walls. Those that swam had their sounds obscured by the fish, but she heard at least a few dozen sets of feet pacing around the old building. Breaking in sounded like a chore. Her sneaking skill had certainly returned, but its level was still stuck in the single digits and asking Sylvia for a bubble was out of the question with so many options still available.


    Selected from the list was one of the few that she had been unable to test. Investing exactly one thousand points of mana, she called upon the only spirit guardian yet to see the light of day. Headhydra¡¯s advent was accompanied by a strange urge. Just as Shouldersnake fed her its bloodthirst, and Shoulderhorse its gluttony, the newest addition bestowed upon the halfbreed the desire to lay claim to the land, to stake a domain as her own and lay waste to the pests that had dared to intrude upon it. And looking at the abomination she summoned revealed that it was feeling much the same way.


    Headhydra bore a powerful resemblance to the creature whose death had accompanied its creation, only with a third the headcount and a body slightly too big to fit in the palm of her hand. Each head was slightly different from the others, both in appearance and personality. The middle head, marked by a tiny horn, had supreme confidence, while the hornless one on the left was wilted and depressed. The final two-horned head was curious, constantly looking around and scanning its surroundings. But whatever the case, none of them talked to her. Unlike Shouldersnake and Shoulderhorse, the hydra had always chosen silence, even when she was off by herself.


    Abiding by its orders, the spirit guardian snuck along the ocean floor and approached the castle. Staying as inconspicuous as possible, it hopped from one extruded stone to another and silently made its way to its final position. From its place right outside the hemomancer¡¯s window, it pressed its three heads together and prepared to launch an all-out attack.


    In life, Headhydra was a fearsome beast, capable of breathing a rotting plague that assigned death to all it touched. Its physical specifications had been just as impressive; its horns were near unbreakable, and its body was fast and strong. All powerful properties, to say the least. But none of them truly defined the monster or made up its core.


    What lay at the very center of the lizard''s being was the essence of an individual that stood against Xekkur''s call, not through undeath, but continued life. And it was precisely from that principle that its newest incarnation¡¯s abilities were derived.


    Once within range, the spirit guardian gripped two of its necks and ripped them straight out of its sockets. It leaked a few drops of ectoplasm at first, but the wounds were quick to close. What started as one body became three, then nine, then twenty seven. Each was fully restored, an exact clone of the original with its parts in all the right places. Not even their mana was split. All eighty-one phantoms had the 1000 points of mana imbued within the original.


    It took only a few seconds for the two-hundred and forty-three instances to get in position, to sequester themselves into the stone, before acting on the boss¡¯ orders and blowing themselves to bits. The swarming vectors completely obliterated the room, shredding the wall and tearing the mage¡¯s limbs to pieces. They reformed soon after, leaving only her clothing completely destroyed.


    She was not the only one to reform. Headhydra did the same. Each of its tiny pieces squirmed to a central location, merging to become a beast with hundreds of times its previous mass. Its remaining properties were largely unchanged. It still had only a thousand mana, and its abilities were scaled up only in size. Its new form factor was effectively a bluff, a trick to convince her foes that it would be more powerful than it really was.


    While the three-headed lizard drew the attention of those that occupied the underwater fortress, Claire and Sylvia snuck around back and entered the building through one of its many open windows.


    ¡°Woah¡­ this place must¡¯ve been fancy.¡± Speaking in a whisper that only a deformed moose could hear, Sylvia looked around the run-down castle with her breath taken away.


    Claire nodded as she looked over the decor. The stone pillars were covered with algae, the carpets had been eaten away by the sea, leaving the chipped marble flooring half exposed. The remaining curtains were moldy, the ruined chairs were stripped down to their rickety wooden frames, and the gold that lined the hallways had dulled.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°They had to have money. Lots of it,¡± agreed the reptilian moose.


    The manor¡¯s paintings, however, were undamaged. Encased in glass frames, they alone had been spared from the marks of time. The minimal sun exposure left them perfectly preserved; most were in an even better condition than they would have been had they remained above the surface. Lining nearly every hall, half the works were deserving of every bit of praise. They were beautifully constructed with delicate brush strokes, scenes that reflected various familiar locations from all around the Vel¡¯khanese capital. The other half were more amateurish, ranging from simple scribbles made of crayons to more advanced pieces with traces of genius splashed in their watered down colours.


    The gallery belonged to a single individual, tracking their progress as they grew from an aspiring painter to a master of their craft, and Claire had a sneaking suspicion that the portrait on the wall, hanging right above the stairs, was one that he had drawn of himself. He almost looked like a lyrkrian male, but his legs were without the telltale fins and his tail was akin to that of a fish. Combined with his overtly green colouration, his traits suggested that he was a kelpie, one of Kal¡¯syr¡¯s sworn enemies.


    ¡°How long do you think this place has been down here?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to say,¡± said Claire, with a frown. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of damage, but the architectural style isn¡¯t too different from what we see on the surface.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah! I guess it isn¡¯t.¡± The fox floated up to one of the stone pillars and inspected it. ¡°I wonder how it got like this anyway.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Claire. ¡°But she does.¡±


    With a flick of the tail, she grabbed one of the shadows lurking near a nearby pillar and wrenched it into the air. The person hiding inside of it stepped out, completely unbothered by the violent treatment. It was the same mage that she had tracked, fully recovered, and dressed in a fresh set of clothes.


    ¡°Would you not agree that it is rather inappropriate to follow a lady home?¡± She pulled a fan out from her robe and hid her face, but her smug smile was clear as the haughty laugh that accompanied it.


    ¡°You were the one stalking us in broad daylight,¡± said Claire. At first, the lyrkress had been tempted to reply in kind, to put on her straps and talk down to the red-eyed woman, as a duchess-to-be should, but soon set the idea aside. ¡°We were just returning the favour.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, but it was not inappropriate nor without reason.¡± A force of armed guards made primarily of kelpfins and seahorses sprang out from their surroundings, flooding out from closed doors to fill the empty gallery. ¡°It so happens that we have some business to discuss.¡± Her men formed two lines, one in front equipped with shields and spears, and another to the rear, armed with wands and staves. Their weapons were held at the ready, primed to fire.


    Claire was the first to make a move. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed the nearest melee fighter with a pair of vectors and tore his head straight off his body.


    Log Entry 6771


    You have slain a level 204 Kelpfin Warrior.


    This feat has earned you the following bonuses:


    - 1 point of wisdom


    While the speaker was taken aback, the soldiers leapt into action immediately. First to attack were the mages. Their magic already prepared, they loosed a barrage and pelted her with spells to no effect. Shoulderhorse took Headhydra¡¯s place on the field, opened its mouth wide, and consumed every spell that came its way¡ªa feature she had always eyed, but never toyed with. The incident in Borrok Peak had left her wary of the self-harm it could inflict, but her ascension had deepend her mana pool. A wave of simple spells was a mere drop in the bucket.


    The mages panicked, returning to their posts only as they noticed the blood mage¡¯s glare. A second barrage filled with more powerful spells followed right after the first, but Claire didn¡¯t absorb them. Her experiment was already complete; it was time to get to work.


    Her eyes darting around the room, she grabbed over half the projectiles and redirected them, ramming them into the backs of the mages¡¯ allies. Those that could not be manipulated were evaded, parried, or outright ignored. Her imaginary pony was left on the sidelines, to watch and salivate over all the things it could have eaten.


    With the warriors forced to watch their backs, Claire dove straight into the fray with Farenlight¡¯s horns in her hands. She killed six before the chain of command was almost restored. A gruff-looking seahorse raised his voice and demanded order, but she appeared in front of him and stabbed him through the throat before he could detail any specifics.


    Everything but his armour screamed that he was one of the higher ups. He had a loud voice, a stand-out of a beard, and looked every bit the part of a veteran. But he was boring and insignificant, just like all the others. He had not the resolve to strike at her while he fell, clutching his throat and wheezing as she slammed a hoof into his face and detonated his head.


    The execution gave the others pause. Their attacks lost vigour as they shifted to a focus on defense. They held their shields in front of them and wrapped their bodies in barriers, but all their preparations were paltry before her vectors. Five at a time, they were torn in half, turning the water from a deep blue to a muddied red. The first to turn tail were the first she targeted, and the rest were not any slower to fall. The blood they spilled gathered by the blood mage¡¯s side and formed a throne. Manipulated and forced to serve, even in death.


    ¡°Who is it that holds your reins?¡±


    It was only when she was left alone that the hemomancer asked the question. Twoscore men lay dead at her feet, but she continued to sit idly without a hint of concern. Their ends had only turned the hungry look in her eyes into something of a sparkle, and at some point, she had acquired a staff made of a powerful wood.


    Claire narrowed her eyes, briefly, before lowering her weapons and tucking them back inside her cloak. ¡°No one.¡±


    ¡°Then allow me.¡± There was no animosity in her voice, only magnanimous acceptance. ¡°Operate under my rule, and you shall be given everythi¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh, oh! I know what¡¯s gonna happen next!¡± Sylvia, who had vanished when the battle broke out, appeared out of thin air and waved her front paws around. ¡°She¡¯s gonna ask you to join her and then you¡¯re gonna say no, and then there¡¯s gonna be an epic final battle where you kill her by a hair¡¯s breadth!¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence, with Claire and the blood mage both looking at the hat before exchanging glances.


    ¡°May I have her?¡± asked the witch.


    ¡°No.¡± Claire magically pulled the foxbowl towards her and clamped her arms around it. ¡°Mine.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± The witch tapped a finger against her sceptre. ¡°Fox.¡±


    ¡°Mhm?¡± Sylvia lifted her head and cocked it.


    ¡°To answer your earlier question, this castle was sunk fifty years ago, right before the Vampire Queen took the throne. It belonged to my mother in law, an¡ª¡±


    A magical lip pinch stopped her mid sentence. ¡°Stop wasting our time and tell us why you led us here. And why you tested me with your prisoners.¡±


    Glancing at the corpses revealed a series of magical restraints. Each man possessed a magical rune branded directly atop his tongue, and they were not the only dead giveaways. None had addressed the witch with respect, and many even regarded her with fear or contempt, running from her and not Claire, regardless of the cause of their death.


    ¡°Allow me.¡±


    Though the woman¡¯s eyes lit up again, she was not the one to answer the lyrkress¡¯ question. Swimming into the building, and taking her side was the old admiral whose summon they had been awaiting.

 Chapter 187 - The Castle in the Sea VIII

    Chapter 187 - The Castle in the Sea VIII


    Claire eyed the old military man with a mix of suspicion and irritation. The look on his face annoyed her to no end, it was smug and confident, like that of a fool already assured of his victory. In the water, the husks that were his pencil thin limbs came to life. His muscles puffed up to several times the size they were on land, and the loose mess of skin that had been his face was filled again with vigour¡ªhe looked twenty years younger, most of his wrinkles were gone, his greying hair the only indication of his advanced age.


    The dress he previously wore was nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by a tight-fitting military uniform that emphasized the extreme bulk of his frame. The evening gown had been formal wear. Those of sufficient status were meant to dress in clothes for the opposite gender, tailor made to suit them, as displays of wealth and etiquette.


    If the witch¡¯s raised brow was any indication, his advent lay beyond the realm of whatever scheme it was they had in mind.


    ¡°It¡¯s because he realised,¡± said Claire. ¡°That I spotted him.¡±


    The witch began with a nod, but soon opened her eyes wide as she realised that the thought had never left her mouth. For a moment, she felt as if she could see a smirk on the longmoose¡¯s face, but it was gone by the time she blinked, replaced by the same perfectly neutral expression she had worn throughout the massacre.


    ¡°How exactly did you manage to spot me? I thought I was perfectly hidden.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ I really don¡¯t think you should¡¯ve asked that,¡± said Sylvia. The fox could already hear her companion cackling internally, even though her outward demeanor had yet to show even the slightest bit of change.


    ¡°Because I know how it feels to be stared at by an old pervert.¡± She smiled at him, sweetly. ¡°It isn¡¯t normal. To only be attended to by children.¡±


    ¡°Those are the children left behind by my fallen comra¡ª¡±


    ¡°The oldest looked like she might have been twelve. And there were boys among them too. You are a sick and twisted man, and I doubt you are capable of seeking the path of recourse.¡±


    The admiral put a hand to his brow and lightly rubbed the side of his head. ¡°I¡¯m starting to see why Natalya was left in charge of communication.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said Claire. She glanced at one of the room¡¯s far corners before making a chair of vectors floating opposite the witch¡¯s blood throne. The messy amalgamation was nowhere near as refined as Alfred¡¯s, but it was functional enough to support her weight. ¡°Now stop stalling and talk. Why am I here?¡±


    ¡°Your party happened to be on the smaller side, so I was thinking that it might be worthwhile for you to join forces with Arciel, as she¡¯s also working in a group of two,¡± explained the admiral. ¡°But she isn¡¯t the sort to work with someone that doesn¡¯t have her explicit approval.¡±


    ¡°So you put together a test.¡± Claire fiddled with the daggers hidden in her sleeves as she spoke.


    ¡°Yes, exactly,¡± said the muscular sea creature.


    The lyrkress almost rolled her eyes. The negotiation was a farce, and she had no intention of following through. ¡°Because you wanted to see if I would be of help, when you set out to assassinate the queen.¡±


    The witch cocked a brow and laughed, but her companion gave it away with a curious stare.


    ¡°Did you really have to say it straight like that?¡± complained the old man. ¡°Is that how they taught you to parley in the Cadrian court, Lady Augustus?¡±


    ¡°The old men that plague it are every bit as bullheaded as you. It often takes a good shock or two to dust off their brains,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Being a bit dusty ain¡¯t all bad,¡± said the admiral. ¡°Sometimes, you need a bit of that extra spice, like how confectionaries are often sweeter with a tad bit of salt.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps you should have a doctor examine the state of your tongue, Admiral. The need for salt is a sign of rot.¡±


    ¡°It is not my tongue that ails, Lady Augustus, but our nation.¡± Count Ray¡¯esce adjusted his hat, nestling it in place atop his spikey head. ¡°The Vampire Queen is the source of its rot. She was never supposed to be in line for the throne. She was a filthy prostitute, picked off the street by the previous queen and made a concubine for her leisure.¡±


    ¡°Not my problem.¡±


    The next to speak was the woman upon the blood throne. ¡°Should we allow that wretched whore to continue her operations, Vel¡¯khan shall only strengthen its ties to your homeland. Our lack of an aspect ensures that we will be taken for a vassal state or a colony, with no hope of standing against the Cadrian word. And our people will not stand for such absurd treatment.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°Your ailing health is the only excuse that your nation has used to back this war effort. We shall capture and expose the contradiction should you refuse to lend your aid,¡± said the witch. ¡°Abide by our commands, and Cadria will lose only one vassal. Disregard them, and all the northern states will all know of your treachery. They will take up arms, ally themselves against your lands, and topple your kingdom.¡±


    Though the end result was not one that Claire found particularly undesirable, she had little choice but to acknowledge the threat of exposure. If used as a tool in their negotiations, then she would only find herself back at her father¡¯s side. Assuming they managed to succeed.


    Farenlight¡¯s horns still in her hands, Claire was tempted to turn the discussion back into a brawl. The admiral and the supposed royal were both well within reach. The bloodsucker had proven herself obnoxious to kill, but the seahorse was an easy mark. His body was no more robust than that of the prisoners¡¯. A few finely tuned vectors was all she needed to tear him to bits.


    ¡°Then let them. I don¡¯t care for your empty threats, whether you believe yourselves capable of following through on them or not.¡± She slowly looked between the two of them in turn. ¡°But I do care for payment. I¡¯ll cooperate if you can give me something that makes this worth my time.¡±


    The admiral appeared dissatisfied. He even lowered his stance, as if preparing to strike, but the bloodsucker held her sceptre in front of him. ¡°What manner of payment?¡±


    ¡°Gold. Five hundred pounds.¡±


    The moon-sworn vampire shook her head. ¡°Look around you, Lady Augustus. This is the state of our headquarters. We lack even the funds to resolve its state of disrepair. Monetary compensation on such a scale is beyond our means.¡±


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    ¡°How much is five hundred pounds of gold anyway?¡± asked Sylvia, in a whisper.


    ¡°Enough to buy a castle,¡± replied the lyrkress, under her breath.


    ¡°Oh! That sounds like it¡¯d be kinda nice. I¡¯ve always wanted to play around in a castle!¡±


    ¡°You did that last week.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t count! We weren¡¯t actually in the actual castle, and I didn¡¯t get to play around!¡±


    ¡°The castle¡¯s grounds are a part of it.¡± Petting the fox through the bubble, Claire turned her eyes back up to the aquatic humanoid, who was still tapping her armrest and wracking her brains.


    ¡°Will a favour not suffice?¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°Do you have nothing else of value?¡±


    ¡°I do not.¡± The black-haired witch squeezed the arms of her chair, hard enough for her knuckles to turn white. ¡°The harlot falsified my aunt¡¯s will following her death and claimed all of the assets that I should have inherited. The one valuable thing I have to give, Lady Augustus, is my word. Should you aid me in striking down the treacherous whore that has slain my family, then I, Arciel Vel¡¯khan, final survivor of Queen Arcenia¡¯s bloodline, will swear to return this favour in your time of need.¡±


    Claire pulled her hood further over her eyes. ¡°I have a number of conditions.¡±


    ¡°And what might they be?¡± asked the princess.


    ¡°My involvement is to be kept a secret from all parties that I do not expressly note as exceptions. For now, that list extends only to my traveling companions.¡±


    ¡°Naturally,¡± said Arciel. ¡°And the others?¡±


    ¡°I operate on my terms. I will not take orders from you. Only suggestions and requests.¡±


    Again, the vampire nodded.


    ¡°And I shall not be joining you in proving that you are worthy of the throne. I will assist you in reaching her, but if you wish to seize your place from the ruler of this land, then you must fell her in single combat.¡± Claire smiled, devilishly. ¡°Do that, and none of my countrymen will stand opposed to your legitimacy.¡±


    The Cadrian throne was always one handed down from warrior to warrior, a tradition preserved from when it was naught but a tiny wandering tribe. And it was not just the royal seat that could be contested. Siblings close in power would often duel for the right to inherit their households, and commoners would even sometimes challenge their lords if frustrated by the management of their lands.


    There was certainly an argument to be made against passing the torch to the most powerful. Some believed that it ostracized the intelligent, and while it certainly did produce the odd musclehead or two, it was rare for an incompetent to take or remain in a position of power. Those with good heads on their shoulders knew full well the value of personal strength, and they were often quick on the uptake in battle. The eleven-horned king had only remained atop his throne for as long as he had because his detractors were unable to match his valor. He was an aspect; the only man in the country capable of contesting his might was his nephew¡ªClaire¡¯s father¡ªbut said man was kept satisfied enough to keep his ambitions away from his uncle¡¯s seat.


    ¡°Consider your conditions accepted, Claire Augustus,¡± said the witch.


    The monarch-to-be rose from her seat, approached the halfbreed, and extended a hand. Arciel¡¯s smile broadened when Claire reluctantly took it. Her eyes sparkled, her hair danced, and she even reached to greet the lyrkress¡¯ neck with her fangs.


    ¡°One of my knights and I will be joining your par¡ª¡±


    ¡°I refuse.¡± Having sensed the red flag from a mile away, Claire grabbed the princess by the face and created an arm¡¯s worth of distance between them. ¡°I agreed to aid you. Not become one of your companions.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you do not have to be so cold, Claire,¡± said the bloodsucker. ¡°Our fates are tied now, joined together until we pay our respective dues.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± Having decided that an arm wasn¡¯t enough, Claire kicked the mage with one of her front talons, but Arciel¡¯s lower half turned into a bloody mist as she made contact.


    ¡°Whether you care or not, your companion has already been convinced.¡±


    Claire immediately looked at the fox in her arms, who returned her gaze and vehemently shook her head.


    ¡°I had a quick chat with Natalya right after you left,¡± said Admiral Ray¡¯esce, ¡°and she said that she would be fine with a quick trial run at least. Oh, and speaking of, I should mention that you¡¯re going to need a dress, or maybe a suit if you¡¯re feeling particularly formal. The Cadrians are going to be setting off tonight, with you in tow of course, and they¡¯ll be hosting a banquet to commemorate the occasion.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°Tell us that earlier next time.¡±


    ¡°Natalya mentioned that the timing wouldn¡¯t be a problem.¡±


    ¡°Stupid cat.¡± Claire muttered under her breath as she magically pushed the witch into the ceiling.


    ¡°I, for one, am looking forward to the event,¡± said the vampire. ¡°It will serve as an excellent opportunity for us to strengthen our ties.¡±


    ¡°If you live.¡±


    The princess looked at her with confusion, but the lyrkress only smiled.


    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re not about to do what I think you are, are you?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Claire¡¯s throat was already glowing a pale, magical blue, a sign that her mana was building up in one of the glands she had recently acquired.


    With a fang showing through her smile, Claire opened her mouth and launched her attack. At first, it seemed like nothing but a blast of air. It pushed the water aside at an incredible speed, but had no other obvious effects. The destruction that followed came only after the projectile finished running its course.


    Everything it touched was instantly turned to ice. And then, after exactly three seconds, the frozen remnants shattered into bits and disappeared. No residue was left behind. No water, ceiling, blood, or shadow was able to remain. The half of the building that the draconic chimera faced was removed, erased, deleted alongside the ice¡¯s departure.


    It was a dragon¡¯s breath. Or at least a lackluster something that tried its best to resemble one. She managed to obliterate the vampire¡¯s last second blood barrier, as well as the area around it, but the bloodsucker in question had lasted. Her clothes were tattered all over and there were bits and pieces missing from the various parts of her body. Most notable was her arm, which had been frozen and removed.


    Had the fledgling been more successful in executing the attack imprinted in her blood, it would have been a far deadlier blow, but by draconic standards, Claire was still immature, and the requisite glands underdeveloped.


    ¡°What the hell are you doing!?¡± screamed the admiral. He swam up to the lyrkress as he drew a blade, but she paralyzed him with a glare and kicked him against a wall. She followed the attack by grabbing his neck and striking him with her talons another three times. Each gouged his flesh and brought him closer to death, but unlike the soldiers caught up in her destructive blast, he failed to meet his end.


    ¡°You tested me. So I tested her,¡± Claire tightened her grip on his neck, her eyes as cold as her breath. ¡°An attack of this caliber will be far from what she will have to face if she wishes to claim the throne with violence.¡±


    The bloodied seahorse tried to speak, but his mouth was just as bound as the rest of his body. The most he could squeak out was a primal groan.


    ¡°And it appears, Admiral, that you don¡¯t quite understand what it means to deal with a member of House Augustus,¡± she said. ¡°I will aid your princess as promised, but do not think for a moment that I will hesitate to meet malice with violence.¡± She delivered another kick to his side as she released him, sending him tumbling through the hall. ¡°Consider this a warning. Attempt to undermine my will again, and it will not just be the two of you I attack.¡± Another paralyzing glare hit him as she walked through the rubble, in the direction of the city whose borders she had left. She stopped only briefly to look upon the wounded, half-conscious princess, but soon continued on her way.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire?¡± Sylvia raised a paw and poked her mount¡¯s cheek as she approached the missing front door. ¡°I know you dressed it up nicely, but you actually just did that ¡®cause you wanted an excuse to use your breath attack again, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Her eyes averted and her grievances freshly aired, she scratched the fox¡¯s head and continued on her way.

 Chapter 187.5 - Prelude of Storm II

    Chapter 187.5 - Prelude of Storm II


    Gasping desperately for air, Meltys awoke from her slumber with her feathers doused in cold sweat. She had once again been stolen from her dreams by a horrifying nightmare of a prophecy. There had been a brief point, during the weeks that she had seen it, where the vision bothered her little. But that time was long in the past.


    She had already done everything she could. She had traveled the seven holy mountains, solicited prayers and offerings from every city and village, and spent all her spare time hunting. She had gained three dozen levels in just a month. And yet, the vision continued to persist.


    Unlike the others, all of which she eventually overcame, the prophecy that yet haunted her dreams did little but profess that her efforts were in vain. It almost appeared inevitable, like a future already set in stone. None of her careful strengthening had done anything to affect any one bit of its outcome.


    Shelving the thought, she poured a glass from the keg next to her bed¡ªthe only reason she had been able to get any sleep at all over the course of the past week¡ªand swallowed it whole. The potent liquor stung as it slid down her throat, a sensation that brought her more comfort than pain. The fire it lit in her stomach warmed her from the inside out. And yet, she found her fears unquelled, only intensified.


    The arviad had drank too much for the night; it was already her fifth time waking, and each had been accompanied by at least one cup, if not three or five. She was completely intoxicated, and the sinful liquid only pushed her miserable mind further beyond the edge. Knowing that she needed to part herself from her glass, she got to her feet and proceeded through the old shrine.


    She teetered and tottered as she walked, tripping her way down a trio of corridors before finally arriving at a room with an entrance to the garden. She would have been able to visit it directly had she chosen to inherit her father¡¯s study, but neither the guardian deity nor her mother wished to see it changed. Preserving what little of him they had left was a necessity, not only to cater to their own emotions, but also to ensure that the boy, her brother, would grow up knowing something of the man from whom he had inherited his blood.


    Not that he would ever have the chance, if the prophecy was to be believed.


    Shuddering, the pink bird fell face first into the soil and covered her head with her wings. She was lost, lost as the moon, which was bouncing to and fro in random directions as it tried to navigate the sky. The bird eventually rose, pushing herself off the ground and planting her flippers firmly in the dirt. She resolved herself to return to her bedchambers and drink another glass, but stopped short when she heard a knock on the temple door. It was distant, quiet, as if to not wake the two sleeping in the back, but present all the same.


    Meltys had more alcohol in her body than blood, but even in her inebriated state, she knew better than to show herself so slovenly. She charged her divinity as she waddled to the entrance and poured it through her body, the purifying silverlight cleaning her nerves of their toxins. Alongside the clarity came a more detailed scene of her brother¡¯s death, but she clenched her bill and shook it off. The cityfolk could not be allowed to witness her suffering. It was her duty to guard their minds from worry.


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    Opening the door, however, revealed her concerns to be in vain. What greeted her on the other side was not another arviad, but a phantom in the form of a tiny giant. He stood at less than half her height, a meter at most. Many of his features were the sort that his kind rejected, sickly green skin, a beardless face covered in bumps, and a grin with half its teeth removed. Even as one of a completely different species, she found him revolting. There was something about him that set off the bells and whistles in her mind¡ªit was as if he did not belong, just like the lantern that hung from his hand. The night light emitted not a bright orange flame, but one dyed in a dangerous emerald hue.


    ¡°Might I stay the night, divine protector?¡± he asked, his voice sick and raspy. ¡°I require shelter from these cold biting winds.¡±


    Meltly¡¯s first thought was that she ought to close the gate in his face. He was clearly suspicious; the man was not of her species, and her people were the only ones to have settled in the area. A brief look at him raised countless flags of caution. She could tell that welcoming him would bring nothing but ruin and misfortune.


    But on a whim, she not only allowed him inside, but welcomed him in with open arms. She showed him to her dining room and prepared a high-class meal for them to share. For the main course, he was served the fresh giant¡¯s heart that would have been her own breakfast the next morning, seasoned with herbs that could only be cultivated in the highlands. For his accompaniments, the duck sought the finest root vegetables from her garden, lily bulbs grown in soil free of miasma, chopped up and fried in butter. For his drink, she bestowed the holy vice that she herself partook, distilled carefully on temple grounds with the purest of her homemade holy water. And for his bedding, she prepared the finest of down, sewn from her own feathers, and laced with a hundred layers of protective spells and charms.


    It was a task that required a monumental effort in the moment; she spent what felt like hours toiling away, preparing for the unknown guest the best hospitality that could be offered, as was the Arviadian way. But by morning, it had already become a drunken escapade she hardly remembered.


    When she woke, just before sunrise, she made herself presentable and checked on the traveler. But he was already gone, vanished as suddenly as he arrived. She was tempted to dismiss his presence as a figment of her imagination and the missing food and drink a product of her stress. But the objects he left atop his neatly folded sheets served as undeniable evidence to the contrary. She approached both items with her head filled with questions, many of them resolving as her mind was made subject to a sudden revelation. It was a vision of a happy future, her family still intact and her brother ascended to the protector¡¯s throne as a strapping young drake, worthy of being revered as the man of the house.


    Elated, she wrapped her tentacles around the stranger¡¯s gifts and raised them to the light. One was a letter, a note promising his allegiance in the coming days.


    And the other, a holy relic blessed with his power.


    For his name was Glarchst.


    And he was a deity even greater than she.

 Chapter 188 - Fallen Crown

    Chapter 188 - Fallen Crown


    Virillius Augustus frowned as he gazed upon a bountiful, kilometer-wide gully from his perch atop an ancient tree. Gnaruhn¡¯s Valley was packed to the brim with Kryddarian soldiers. Scores upon scores upon scores of white-furred moths patrolled air and ground alike, waiting to swarm him and his men immediately upon their discovery.


    The hundred warriors he had brought with him were true elites, seasoned fighters capable of triumphing against the moths a thousand to one. Conventional wisdom dictated that it would have been easy for the shock troopers to break through the enemy lines. The command tent was only a dozen kilometers away, lying well within sight of the secret Cadrian encampment. But King Ragnar Unfrid¡¯s presence ensured that any such measure would end in failure.


    As the nation¡¯s sole aspect, he was the one man that could turn the tides. Unlike the duke, his skill in close quarters fell far behind his other capabilities. A one-on-one encounter between them was sure to end in victory for the Cadrian representative. A larger-scale battle, however, was impossible for Ragnar to lose. There was no felling a man imbued with his spark. If they wished for victory, they would have to locate the king and launch a direct offensive on his position during one of his few times of weakness.


    The sky made for an easy access point. Centaurs could fly much higher than moths; their feathered wings were more powerful than insects¡¯ membraned counterparts, and their warm-blooded nature allowed them to remain functional well above the clouds. It would not have been difficult for the strike team to evade the barricade and claim the capital, but such a roundabout victory was sure to be short-lived. They would still have to deal with Kryddar¡¯s armies, and defending a castle with a mere hundred men was nothing if not a pointless exercise in futility.


    The darkhorned cervitaur had no interest in Kryddar¡¯s conquest, let alone a conquest only in name. To him, the nation was an added bonus, its subjugation a means to the end that was its ruler¡¯s execution. King Unfrid was his sole target, and his presence upon the battlefield assured that Virillius would focus his efforts on the valley¡ªor so the Kryddarian royal assumed.


    Three days after his men discovered traces of cervitaurian activity around the valley, Ragnar received a headache-inducing report. Duke Augustus had appeared in person and breached the gates that the ruler was sure he would ignore. Edelgrove, the capital city, was taken; its royal castle flew not the Kryddarian flag, but the Cadrian standard.


    The king was annoyed, but not distraught. Though he had assumed that Virillius would not take the castle, his knowledge of the duke¡¯s wily ways had driven him to prepare for every potential eventuality. His progeny had been long escorted to Paunse, and he had drafted a dozen different ways to siege his own fortress, each delivered alongside a plan for future improvement.


    On the fourth morning, Ragnar set out with his men and prepared to lay waste to the capital city. He was ready to see the once beautiful haven completely deprived of life, for the beautiful trees that made up its forest to be dripping with blood and entrails, but there was no such haunting landscape to be observed. The citizens were still happily fluttering up and down the ancient trees, the guards were present, and the gate was intact. Not even the flag was as described; the Kryddarian banner was exactly where he left it, fluttering proudly in the wind.


    The only thing that was missing, according to the bureau of intelligence, were the four officers that had provided the report with its stamp of authenticity. Again, Ragnar was struck by a twinge of annoyance, but he fought back the urge to scream at those responsible and marched back to his field camp.


    Over the course of the next week, the Kryddarian monarch was forced to endure a barrage of harassment in a similar vein. His intelligence department continued to fail in their reports, and those that he sent after them, even his most trusted men, would always confirm that they had seen exactly what was described. But whenever he set out himself, the result would be the same. The capital was never taken, nor were any of the nearby villages ever under assault.


    There was something fishy at play. King Unfrid was well aware that it was some sort of Cadrian mind magic, and that his men were just as befuddled as he. Still, it was impossible for the general and ruler to keep the seeds of doubt from sprouting, for him not to consider the faith and allegiance of his men.


    Ragnar was a natural commander, not a natural leader. His orders were precise, but those that flocked to his side rarely did so for the quality of his person. They were interested only in his authority, in the power he held then as crown prince, and now as the king. It would not come as a surprise if they wished to humiliate him for their own leisure. Still, he fought back his pride and continued his operations, checking himself each time an attack was reported.


    The harassment continued for over a month, a month that made him feel as if he had aged a century. Upon returning to his tent, after his fifteenth time inspecting the capital, he found himself so weary that he stumbled over to his cot and collapsed face first.


    If not for the dancing shadows, driven by candlelight, he never would have noticed the assassin waiting in the corner of the room.


    Summoning up his strength, he rolled out of the way before he was struck and drew his own blade. The holy sword, blessed by Rikael herself, cleaved straight through the assailant¡¯s gut as he spun, splitting him in half and ending his life. Ragnar breathed a sigh and lightly massaged his head, but his relief quickly turned to horror when he unmasked the dead spellweaver and looked upon his face.


    So familiar were the features that he wished to dismiss them as a lie, a false visage constructed for the sole purpose of ensuring his suffering. But alas, it could not be denied. The head belonged to Anders, his oldest son, and the heir to the Kryddarian throne.


    Everything clicked into place as he cast his eyes on his bloodied hands. He finally knew why the men had all turned against him. When standing by one another, the two certainly did appear as would a father-son pair. They shared many of their features, and possessed the same sort of aura. But if asked to correctly pick out the royal and his heir, most would deem that it was Ragnar and not Anders that was the son of the other.


    The younger moth had never completed his third ascension. He was only two hundred and sixteen years old, but looked every bit like a man with a middle-aged crisis under his belt. Ragnar, on the other hand, appeared not a day past twenty. If things continued the way they did, Anders would perish without the opportunity to sit on the throne, just as his own children had before him.


    It was all a scheme, a scheme to wrench away his power¡ªthe one thing he still had¡ªfrom right under his nose. And despite being completely unaware, he had managed to trump it. As a king and a warrior, he was driven by the urge to celebrate the attempted usurper¡¯s death, but as a father, he felt only regret. He had refrained from relinquishing the throne because he knew that Anders was hardly capable of running a country. The boy was unable to separate his work from his feelings and took negative feedback as he would a personal attack. But even with all his flaws, he was still his son. The monarch couldn¡¯t help but think that he should have spoken to his assailant before he retaliated, that he was wrong to have put the country¡¯s best interests over his own child¡¯s ambitions.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Clenching six of his twelve fists, he gently closed the young boy¡¯s eyes and placed his head down next to his body, ¡°Are you happy now, Virillius? With what you¡¯ve done?¡± Then, and only then, did he finally break the silence.


    ¡°Very.¡±


    A cold, empty voice came from just beyond his tent¡¯s flap, its owner stepping through soon after. His weapons were slick with blood and fat, remnants of the king¡¯s royal guard. The viscera was a sore reminder. The Kryddarian¡¯s sentinels had died because he had forgotten to renew their sparks.


    ¡°He looked up to you,¡± muttered the moth. ¡°Anders never would have fallen so low, had you not been the instigator.¡±


    ¡°And Violet would have lived, had you not refused to lend me your aid, brother.¡± The cervitaur¡¯s eyes were even colder than usual, marked with a bitter tinge of hatred.


    ¡°That has nothing to do with this.¡±


    ¡°It has everything to do with this.¡±


    ¡°A more incorrect presumption, I have never heard.¡±


    The king slowly got to his feet and brandished his blade. He was trembling with anger, twitching with rage. The more he thought about the cause of his son¡¯s death, and the reason for his month of suffering, the more he thirsted for his sworn brother¡¯s blood.


    Still, Virillius made the first move. He closed the distance between them and delivered a flurry of heavy, one-handed slashes. The attacks were fast as lightning, completely invisible to the average soldier, but the king deflected them with his bare hands. Each of the limbs was enhanced by a shining bulwark, guarded by the power of first light.


    The cervitaur¡¯s weapon groaned each time it made contact with the moth¡¯s defense. The standard issue weapon was far too flimsy to hold beneath the force of the monstrous moose¡¯s attacks. Its solid mithril frame bent with every strike, snapping in half on the seventh.


    Taking half a step forward, Ragnar drove three of his fists straight into Virillius¡¯ gut. It was a heavy blow backed by a six-digit strength stat and further enhanced by his belief in the goddess of the dawning sun. The punches themselves were powerful enough to topple a mountain, and the energy blast that followed was capable of felling a range. But there was hardly any effect. The only thing blown away was the command tent, revealing the battle taking place around it and the barrier that robbed his ears of their distance. His target, the moose, stood strong. He didn¡¯t keel or bleed; the blow was taken as easily as any other.


    The moth found the three fists used in the assault battered and broken. Cracks ran all the way up the bones in his arms, fracturing them in a dozen places apiece and leaking blood from his torn muscle and skin. The outcome was not a testament to the cervitaur¡¯s durability, but rather the effect of a spell of which the monarch had been unaware, a passive skill that would reflect half of the damage dealt by any physical attack, learned by certain types of hemomancers upon the acquisition of their two thousandth levels.


    Unbothered, Ragnar continued his assault. Wreathing his sword in the searing light of his goddess, he drove the blade towards Virillius¡¯ midsection¡ªthe weakest part of any centaur¡¯s body. He swung his legs and twisted his hips, putting all the power that he could muster into the spinning strike.


    The attack was met with one of the moose¡¯s own. Virillius smashed his shieldlance into the king¡¯s sword and drove it into the ground. The earth cracked and collapsed, forming a haphazard crater beneath them. So powerful was the accompanying shockwave that it blew away the noise-isolating barrier, exposing them to the battlefield where the Cadrians and Kryddarians clashed.


    The moth raised his holy sword for another attack, but a hoof caught him in the chest, shattering his ribs and piercing his lungs. Two spears of hardened blood passed through his gut soon after, sourced from the halves of Virillius¡¯ broken weapon.


    And then, a shieldlance through the chest. Destroying his heart.


    His health hit zero as his organs exploded.


    His demise should have been imminent.


    But he was the aspect of first light. Death would not come to him so easily.


    The sun¡¯s searing rays burst from his wound, restoring his broken entrails and igniting a spark within his soul. Power burst through his body, filling every nook and cranny, from his toes to his still broken fingers. It was not the might of undeath, but rather a negation of the concept of sunset. It didn¡¯t matter how badly he was broken. He would only continue to rise. Just like the army that he had immediately marked, upon the destruction of his tent.


    He could not bring back those that had fallen prey without his influence, but those that still lived, prior to the application of his ability, became functionality immortal, until the sun next dipped beneath the horizon. But that was another twenty hours off, and he would simply have to mark his army again to reapply the effect. There was no cost, only the need to gaze upon those that he deemed worthy of life.


    That was why his army was feared. It was unstoppable; his men could only be killed at dusk.


    As one of the ability¡¯s past beneficiaries, Virillius knew that well. Just as he knew the weaknesses that came with its strengths.


    The cevitaur tore his shieldlance out of the kryddarian¡¯s chest with a downwards cleave, destroying his bowels and forcing another revival. Twisting his chest, he evaded the blade aimed for his ribs, and with two quick strokes, removed the other man¡¯s arms and wings. Another slash severed his legs, forcing him to fall to the ground with his back against the cratered soil.


    The king¡¯s crown rolled as Virillius crushed his head, again and again with his hooves. Each time, only the fatal wound was cured. It was nothing but torture, inflicting pain for pain¡¯s sake. It was a fate the Kryddarian king had placed upon himself. The continued burning of his ashen wick.


    ¡°Why?¡± He was only allowed to speak when the moose finally let up, his voice a bloodied croak. ¡°Why did you do this, Virillius? You brought my son here. Just so you could watch as I slew him.¡±


    ¡°You went out of your way to ignore my desperate pleas. So that I would be forced to watch as my wife died in my arms.¡± Virillius spoke slowly, lacing each word with the grudge he had festered for a decade.


    The cervitaur¡¯s reptilian bride had met her end at the hands of a disease known as Mana Consumption. It was a deadly ailment that would affect a few in each nation every year, one that would eat away at the victims'' insides over the course of six grueling months, slowly but surely killing them as their immune systems waged war against their magic circuits, rejecting them as they would a transplant. The disease¡¯s cause was unknown, but its cure was not. Its removal required only a blessing from a priest whose level was in excess of a thousand.


    Such holy men were scant in number; Ragnar and the wandering harbinger were the only two that Virillius knew, and it was impossible, even for a royal, to intentionally seek the latter.


    ¡°I loved her, Ragnar.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Then why?¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence as the two sworn brothers exchanged fierce stares, the moth eventually breaking it with a laugh.


    ¡°You¡¯ll never believe me.¡±


    ¡°Say it.¡±


    A hoof was applied to his chest, the pressure forcing the air out of the Kryddarian¡¯s lungs.


    ¡°I never knew.¡±


    ¡°I sent hundreds of letters and envoys. You even repl¡ª¡±


    ¡°And I received none, Virillius. Not a single one.¡±


    Virillius looked at him again, before slowly lifting his foot and stepping away. Without rallying his men, without speaking another word, he took to the sky and turned towards the Cadrian border.


    It was time for another crown to fall.

 Chapter 189 - Skyreach Spire

    Chapter 189 - Skyreach Spire


    ¡°You still alive, Tyl¡¯ick?¡±


    The question was voiced five minutes after Claire¡¯s departure, its speaker the tallest of the five men stationed in the room¡¯s far corner. While the others had already vanished into the shadows, he alone stepped out into the open, leapt over the rubble, and parked himself next to the admiral. To describe his position as seated would be generous, but it was the closest that he could get with his body shaped the way it was. At a glance, the medical specialist looked every bit like the average killer whale, only with gills running the length of his sides, and several sets of octopus-like tentacles sprouting from his forehead, his rear, and his stomach.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. Starting to remember why I normally keep an army between me and any foreign VIPs, but still fine.¡± The old seahorse groaned as he lifted his flippers and checked his wounds. Most were already closed, with only a few particularly deep gashes still bleeding. ¡°How¡¯s the lady?¡±


    ¡°Passed out and roughed up, but still alive.¡±


    ¡°Thank Griselda.¡± Count Ray¡¯esce tried to push himself off the seafloor, but a piercing pain in his ribcage stopped him halfway. Rolling onto his back, he slowly opened his eyes and stared at the broken ceiling. ¡°Freshly twice ascended my ass,¡± he said with a groan. ¡°What the hell was that?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you.¡± The orcaped laid his feelers on the other man¡¯s injuries and closed them with a bright yellow-orange light. ¡°Didn¡¯t fix everything, but you should be good enough to move. Natural regeneration should take care of the rest of your ribs in another few minutes.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Tyl¡¯ick shook his head as he rose. The first place he looked was towards the wounded royal, who lay collapsed on the ground, a trail of blood leaking from her missing arm. ¡°And yeah, I know you warned me, but that was way too much. I still have no idea what she did to me.¡±


    ¡°Some sort of nasty status condition, I bet. Check your logs.¡± The medic shrugged as he followed after his boss and began to examine the princess.


    ¡°I did. Nothing.¡±


    ¡°Weird.¡± Frowning, he tore his focus away from the seahorse and concentrated on healing Arciel. He applied three different spells, each more powerful than the last, but her arm refused to regrow. ¡°There¡¯s something weird going on here too. Something¡¯s getting in the way of my healing.¡± The orca raised his front tentacles and formed a pair of knots in front of his eyes. ¡°Destroyed for two hours? Don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen that one before.¡±


    Absolving the debuff with a cleanse, he applied another heal and restored the missing limb. Once sure that there was nothing else wrong with her, he lightly grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her awake.


    It took her a moment to rouse, but her eyes shot open as soon as she did.


    ¡°Thank you, doctor,¡± she said, as she pressed a hand against her head.


    ¡°How are you feeling, Princess?¡± asked Count Ray¡¯esce.


    ¡°Certainly shocked, but otherwise impeccable. I was not expecting her to attack me without any warning.¡±


    ¡°Intel messed up,¡± said the admiral, with a grimace. ¡°They said she wasn¡¯t as aggressive as her father. Clearly, they were wrong.¡± He glanced at all the corpses piled up around the room. Not a single one of the prisoners had been spared, regardless of age or gender. ¡°It ain¡¯t too late to cut her off just yet, if you¡¯d rather pivot to plan B.¡±


    Arciel shook her head after a brief pause. ¡°I believe we should continue on our current course. She may be more aggressive than anticipated, but having seen her abilities for myself, I am rather confident that working alongside her will prove more fruitful than the alternative.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be risky. There¡¯s no telling when she¡¯ll attack you again,¡± said the seahorse. ¡°And next time, you won¡¯t have a whole fifty corpses¡¯ worth of blood.¡±


    ¡°I do not believe she will,¡± said the witch. ¡°It is not a conjecture I can put into words, but I am confident that she will remain amicable, so long as we do the same.¡±


    ¡°Even if it means owing her a favour? She could ask you for anything.¡±


    ¡°I shall cross that line when I reach it.¡±


    The count sighed. ¡°Well, your call I guess. Me, I¡¯d try to play it a little safer.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps if our knights were more powerful.¡± Arciel looked towards the massive gaping hole behind her, and the half-evaporated corpses of the men that lay throughout. ¡°How many did we lose?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve lost contact with squads 3 and 7 as expected,¡± replied Ray¡¯esce, after a brief pause. ¡°Some of the others have a few casualties, but are still alive. Cas¡¯ahl, could I ask you to attend to them?¡±


    ¡°Orders received, Boss.¡± Lazily saluting, the orcaped medic swam off and began treating the wounded knights one by one.


    The blood mage frowned. ¡°That is far from ideal, but not unreasonable.¡±


    ¡°I sure as hell hope it really turns out to be worth it,¡± muttered the count. ¡°We don¡¯t exactly have the bodies to be throwing them around willy-nilly.¡±


    ¡°It will be fine, Admiral. I will work to ensure that all goes according to plan.¡± The princess got to her feet and brushed the silt off of her ruined dress. ¡°Let us quickly return to the surface. There are only a few hours before the event begins.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s.¡± Picking his hat up off the ground, the admiral nestled it on his thorny head, blew a horn to call his testudinian mount, and prepared for departure.


    Though he was ready, it would be quite a while before they would finally set off. The princess would find, upon attempting to return to her quarters, that they had been destroyed, and that her once bountiful wardrobe had been reduced to nothing but the occasional sad scrap.


    ___


    Arciel was not the only one that had to scramble to put together an outfit. Natalya, Claire, and Sylvia soon found themselves suffering the same fate. Upon reuniting in the city¡ªa task made easy by the lyrkress¡¯ catgirl detector¡ªand reviewing the events that occurred in their separation, the group made its way to one of the city¡¯s high-end clothing shops.


    Though the many unique novelties lining its display cases begged to differ, Silkroad, Olga¡¯s store, was a boutique first and a centre for miscellaneous goods second. The store¡¯s owner had, immediately upon hearing of the occasion, given them permission to commandeer a set of outfits at a fairly steep discount. Claire did walk around the shop and examine everything that caught her interest, but refrained from making any purchases. Her runecloak rid her of the need; she was confident in reproducing not just the goods that filled the huskar¡¯s store, but also all the dresses that she had worn prior to her rude disownment.


    Sylvia, whose outfit choices were far less numerous, was practically dancing around the shop in her tiniest form, zooming between the various evening gowns and carefully looking over each. Most of the things she tried on were ridiculous, foreign clothes she had never seen before, or unique novelties imbued with bizarre and oftentimes useless magical properties. There was little purpose in a dress that would attempt to strangle its wearer, after all.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Regardless of what Claire thought, the fox received nothing but compliments from the pickiest of the three shoppers. She approved of just about every outfit that the others wore, but when it came to her own purchases, Natalya took her sweet time examining every last detail, comparing and contrasting her options not just for looks, but their make. It was not everyday that a commoner was given the opportunity to purchase such a luxury good, and she had every intention of finding something that would last her through every relevant occasion.


    It was not until a few minutes before sunset that the cat finally decided on a modest tea-length that covered her collar. Its light-blue colour complimented the sheath of her blade, but left her heels exposed to the cool, evening breeze. Claire had opted for a much less modest asymmetrical halter that highlighted her shard. As if to contrast the exposure of her neck and chest, she wore a crimson veil that hid most of her features, a protective failsafe meant to keep the Cadrian knights from recognizing her on sight. Meanwhile, Sylvia had gone with a more traditional elven dress, citing a sense of discomfort with the various unfamiliar outfits she had attempted to equip.


    While the average finely-dressed trio of ladies would have arrived on the scene by way of carriage, the haphazard bunch walked through the streets without a care in the world. The girls¡¯ expensive attire had drawn many eyes, with few immediately turning away, even after taking note of their weapons. Both the deer and the dog had been able to continue as normal, but the cat was fidgeting, squirming whenever she met a passerby¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Hey uhmm¡­ Claire?¡± Still, it was not her, but the fox that addressed the longmoose with a pensive frown.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you ever wear any shoes?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re uncomfortable. I hate socks. They get soggy when people try to pour things on my dress.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but we¡¯re going to this like big formal event thing! Shouldn¡¯t you at least dress up a bit more?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see a point in putting on airs. I haven¡¯t even had my hair done.¡± She toyed with her silvery-blue strands as she spoke. They had grown since her arrival in Llystletein. What had started as a neat cut, trimmed just beneath her shoulders, had become an unruly mess that ran more than halfway down her back.


    ¡°I think you look wonderful,¡± said Natalya. ¡°A pair of heels would make you look even prettier, especially with a nice, fluffy pair of socks.¡±


    Claire stared blankly at the catgirl, holding her gaze for a few seconds before slowly shaking her head. ¡°I¡¯m beginning to understand why Paunse and Cadria never did any trade.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Etiquette dictates that heels are worn on their own, without any socks or stockings.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait!¡± Sylvia spun around and grabbed the lyrkress¡¯ shoulders, stopping her in her tracks. ¡°Is the sogginess even going to be a problem anymore?¡±


    Claire tilted her head.


    ¡°I mean, just think about it! You haven¡¯t worn any shoes ever since you ascended the first time, right? And now, you don¡¯t even really care if your clothes get soggy when you go in the water.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re still uncomfortable.¡± Despite complaining, the lyrkress silently grew two inches taller, with the back of her feet rising up off the ground.


    ¡°Yeah, I know, but at least it¡¯s still better than a stuffy suit.¡±


    ¡°Maybe a bit.¡±


    They continued speaking about one random topic or another as they made their way across the city. Upon arrival, the guards waved the bunch in with nothing but a casual glance. The only sentry that had so much as bothered to make a sound was one who had yawned after moving out of their way. Just as unenthused as the gatekeepers were the escorts that led them to the garden venue on the other side of the castle¡¯s grounds. They said nothing, and simply guided them without so much as a formal greeting.


    Upon arrival, they found that less than a third of the people present were dressed in anything that even remotely suited the occasion. Most wore the same equipment that they would have taken on any other job, pieces of armour made of leather and metal, cloaks and mantles that obscured their visages, and blatant holsters for their equally blatant weapons.


    Of those that had refrained from wearing their gear, most had dressed themselves formally, with men donning beautiful evening gowns, and women clothed in neatly-tailored suits. Only a few had gone the wishy-washy route, and worn traditionally gender-appropriate clothes.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe we still stand out,¡± complained the cat. ¡°We should have listened to Auntie and gone for suits.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not Vel¡¯khanese,¡± said Claire. ¡°And dresses can hide more weapons than suits.¡±


    ¡°That might just be the most Cadrian thing I¡¯ve ever heard anyone say.¡±


    ¡°If you think that¡¯s bad, you should meet my father.¡±


    Lia sighed. ¡°I already have.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t count. You didn¡¯t even speak to him.¡±


    ¡°Wait, why are we in the garden?¡± Sylvia looked up at the castle, whose landing platform was still high in the air. There were a few centaurs mingled into the crowd, but not anywhere near enough to describe the Cadrian presence as substantial.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I thought we were supposed to be going up,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°We are, a little later in the night.¡±


    Spinning around to greet the soft, gentle voice, the Paunsean found herself face to face with a familiar Cadrian trainee. The elf was standing right behind them, her delicate frame decorated with a deep violet dress woven with silvery patterns that shimmered in the night. Her skeletal companion stood next to her, ribs covered with a loose-fitting suit, and a top hat sitting on his head. The undead mage wore not a traditional tie, but the same sort of bow that adorned Boris¡¯ neck. The two were walking arm in arm, perhaps to ward off any unwanted suitors.


    ¡°Good evening,¡± she said. She almost broke free of the escort to greet Claire with a curtsy, but a silent hand stopped her in her tracks.


    ¡°Why hello!¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°How wonderful it is to see you again, dear friend.¡±


    ¡°Oh, hey uhm¡­¡± Sylvia pressed a finger into her cheek as her tail flicked back and forth.


    ¡°Nymn,¡± said the squire.


    ¡°Yeah, that! Hi Nymn! Haven¡¯t seen you since we fought Farenlight.¡±


    ¡°Congratulations on your victory,¡± said the unabashed elf.


    ¡°Thanks!¡± chirped the fox, who had clearly been a key part of the battle. ¡°Oh, and hi Drocksie!¡±


    ¡°Hello, hello. It¡¯s nice to see you all again,¡± said the skeleton, with a friendly wave.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ it¡¯s nice to see you too,¡± said Natalya. She gave the pair a bit of a peeved look, and while the elf didn¡¯t react, the lich certainly did. He lightly chuckled, the fiery lights in the dark sockets of his eyes dimming.


    ¡°Sorry about the boss.¡± Eventually, he put his teeth together, as if to smile, and rattled his neck bones. ¡°We didn¡¯t think that would happen.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t you worry your silly little heads,¡± said Claire, with a sickly sweet giggle. ¡°I am just glad to see you so well.¡±


    Her face twisting into an uncomfortable smile, Nymphetel pressed a hand against her chest and bowed. ¡°Likewise. Now, unfortunately, we¡¯ll have to excuse ourselves. We have a prior commitment.¡±


    ¡°What a shame.¡± Her face was still hidden by her veil, but her intonation was so easily read that her pout was practically audible. ¡°I suppose we will have to find some other time to chat.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure we will, My Lady.¡± Adjusting her hat, the elf turned around, approached a group of centaurs, and lowered her voice for another conversation.


    Her departure was followed by a brief moment of silence. Sylvia was looking at Claire with her eyes narrowed into a suspicious glare, while Natalya was staring at nothing in particular with her face twisted into a frown.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t unnecessary.¡± Eventually, Claire gave in and returned the fox¡¯s gaze. ¡°There¡¯s no telling who he¡¯ll speak to.¡±


    ¡°Mhm¡­¡± Sylvia nodded, but her gaze remained skeptical, knowing full well that the lyrkress would refrain from tugging on her cheeks in the midst of a public event.


    ¡°I¡¯m tickling you until you run out of air later.¡± Muttering under her breath, the oppressor turned to the other troublemaker and gave her a magical poke. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± said Lia, with a small frown. ¡°I was just thinking that Nymn is really pretty. I¡¯m almost a bit jealous. We have the same body type, but she looks way better in a dress.¡±


    Claire furrowed her brows. ¡°Your jealousy is wasted,¡± she said. ¡°Competing with Nymphetel is a fruitless effort.¡±


    ¡°Wow, thanks Claire, that really makes me feel better,¡± said the cat, with her head hanging.


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant.¡± The lyrkress lifted a glass of wine off a nearby waiter¡¯s tray and swished it around in her hand. ¡°I was not implying that you were inferior. I was informing you that Nymphetel is not a woman.¡±

 Chapter 190 - Skyreach Spire II

    Chapter 190 - Skyreach Spire II


    ¡°She can¡¯t possibly be a man,¡± said Natalya. ¡°Have you seen her hips!?¡± The catgirl shook her head in vehement denial as she directed her gaze towards the supposed male specimen. She stared so intensely that the knight spun around and furrowed his brow, his lips adorned with an uncomfortable frown. Still, even after a careful analysis, the peeping tomcat¡¯s opinion remained unchanged.


    ¡°Why are you looking at his hips? Pervert.¡±


    ¡°I-I wasn¡¯t. I just happened to notice because her dress really showed off her body¡¯s lines.¡± Tail swishing wildly, the pervert averted her eyes and faked a cough. ¡°A-anyway, I don¡¯t believe you. She has to be a girl, right, Sylvia?¡± When the cat directed her gaze towards the fox, she found her staring through a box made with her hands, one eye closed and the other glowing green. There was a veil of magical liquid between her fingers, a tiny piece of a bubble, spread so thin it was all but invisible. ¡°Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°One sec! I¡¯m just checking to make sure.¡±


    ¡°Checking?¡± The catgirl paused for a moment before suddenly moving between the fox and her target. ¡°Wait, stop! Sylvia! You can¡¯t just check! That¡¯s an invasion of privacy!¡±


    ¡°Well uhm¡­ I already did,¡± said the fox, with a strained smile. ¡°And err¡­ Claire¡¯s right. He¡¯s definitely a guy.¡±


    ¡°Told you,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°And get used to it. Sylvia doesn¡¯t care for privacy. She probably peeks at your dreams when she¡¯s bored at night.¡±


    ¡°W-wait, really?¡± The cat¡¯s glasses nearly fell over her face as she looked at the librarian in horror.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ kinda?¡± Sylvia tilted her head and placed a finger to her chin. ¡°I used to do it a lot when we first met, but your dreams are mostly samey and boring, so I went back to watching Claire¡¯s. Hers are a lot more vivid and always lots of fun.¡±


    Natalya buried her reddening face in her hands. ¡°Oh no¡­¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Lia! Your secrets are safe with me,¡± said Sylvia, with a wink. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna tell Claire about your tongue feti¡ª¡± The fox clamped both her hands over her mouth. ¡°Er, I mean, uhm¡­ that food they¡¯re bringing out looks really tasty!¡±


    ¡°Sylvia!¡± cried the cat.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry! It was an accident, I swear!¡± The giggling vixen spun out of the way of a tackle, only for Claire to reel her in and give her a light chop to the head.


    ¡°Calm down. Both of you.¡± An identical attack was delivered to the liar¡¯s pursuer, stopping her dead in her tracks. ¡°We¡¯re in public, attending an event. Behave.¡±


    ¡°Right. Sorry.¡± While the cat was somewhat apologetic, the catdog responded only by placing her hands on her hips and huffing.


    ¡°Oh, come on. We¡¯re just having a bit of fun.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll bother the other guests. And they¡¯ll think we¡¯re idiots.¡±


    ¡°So what? It¡¯s not like it matters, right? Since you didn¡¯t get your hair done and stuff.¡±


    Claire averted her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Nice try, but you¡¯re not getting out of this one!¡± The fox spun around to the lyrkress¡¯ back, wrapped her arms around her waist, and leaned over her shoulder. ¡°You literally just said that you didn¡¯t really care like thirty minutes ago!¡±


    ¡°It was closer to forty.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh. Thirty and forty are basically the same thing.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re different.¡±


    ¡°Same difference then!¡±


    ¡°Fine. Whatever. Just get off of me.¡± The abyssal moose pressed a hand against Sylvia¡¯s face and tried to push her away, but the girl-shaped-remora refused to budge, only tightening her grip as she rubbed their cheeks together.


    ¡°Don¡¯t wanna.¡±


    ¡°Lia.¡± Left with no other choice, Claire turned to the cat, who had followed her embarrassing episode with three glasses of wine. ¡°Can you talk some sense into this idiot?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really think there¡¯s much of a point in trying,¡± said the cat, with a giggle. ¡°You¡¯re just going to have to deal with her.¡±


    ¡°Great.¡± Sighing, Claire removed her hand and brought her own drink to her lips. She recognized the deep red beverage as one of a distinctly Cadrian make. The grapes used in its production were particularly sweet, and just enough of the sugar remained to result in a hard but harmonious flavour, dotted with a number of layered aromas, and accompanied by a full-bodied mouthfeel. It differed slightly from the variety that had always decorated the dinner table at home, but it was no doubt of a similar quality. Perfectly enjoyable, even with the second head on her shoulders nagging her for a sip.


    Sylvia stayed put for the most part, only moving occasionally to grab a plateful of hors d¡¯oeuvres, whenever the waitstaff passed by. Natalya showed a similar lack of respect for the lyrkress¡¯ personal space. She was half a step closer than usual, removing just enough distance to plague Claire with a sense of discomfort. The catgirl herself did not appear to be in the best of spirits. An initial bit of fooling around aside, she kept her tail close to her legs and said very little. Her eyes flitted about the venue, focusing primarily on the centaurs, with her hand nearing her blade each time they drew too close.


    ¡°Calm down,¡± said Claire, after consuming a delightfully prepared oyster. ¡°Being jittery only makes you more suspicious.¡±


    ¡°I know, but I can¡¯t help it,¡± she said. ¡°What if one of them recognizes me?¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t.¡± Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°And they wouldn¡¯t attack you even if they did. They¡¯re professionals, not ruffians.¡±


    ¡°Professional killers, maybe.¡±


    ¡°Still professionals.¡± Claire magically grabbed a shellfish and shoved it into the side of the cat¡¯s cheek. ¡°You have to take your mind off of it. Try the food. It might help you think about something else. It¡¯s delicious.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it really is!¡± said Sylvia. She teleported a few steps away, grabbed a waiter¡¯s tray, and consumed everything on it before teleporting back. ¡°I dunno how they do it, but this stuff is even better than what dad makes.¡±


    ¡°It is pretty good, but what are we going to do if it¡¯s poisoned?¡± asked the cat, as she swallowed her oyster.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to ask that before you eat it?¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush.¡± Lia averted her eyes. ¡°I didn¡¯t think about it until just now. And besides, we¡¯ve only had a few pieces.¡±


    ¡°Sylvia¡¯s had more than just a few pieces,¡± said Claire.


    The servers had already judged the fox a problematic mark and taken measures to avoid her. Most veered away whenever she approached, while others tried to appeal to her sense of shame by informing her that they had other guests to serve. One had even tried to fill her up with cheap fishy treats, but her infinite stomach saw his strategy completely defeated. Not even the carver, who was responsible for serving up portions of a large fresh tuna, was able to combat her appetite. When Sylvia approached, she ate not the plate that he offered, but rather the entire presentation that hung behind him, hook and all.


    While Claire had certainly been tempted to scold her at first, she soon arrived at the conclusion that they were ruining the centaurs¡¯ finances. Each extra portion the fox consumed was a dent in Marquis Pollux¡¯s wallet.


    ¡°And we have more pressing concerns than poison.¡± Taking the lead, the lyrkress walked across the venue and approached the group seated by the fountain. ¡°Good evening, Arciel.¡±


    ¡°Why, good evening Claire.¡± The witch returned her greeting with a smile. Unlike the lyrkress, the blood-sucking squid girl was not wearing any particularly fancy clothes. She had only a plain witch¡¯s dress, woven with arcane-touched fabrics and a hat nearly identical to the one completely destroyed by her new ally¡¯s breath. Under the moonlight, she gave a completely different impression than she did in the shadows or the depths. Her tattoos were alight, glowing softly as if to prove to the world that she was beloved by the goddess of floating rocks.


    The men seated beside her were positioned as would guards despite looking nothing like the part. One was lanky and frail, his body so thin that he looked ready to be removed by the slightest breeze, but alas, such was the norm for the edepheran race. Closely related to stick bugs, they were masters of camouflage and close combat. Their surprisingly sturdy limbs were long and often struck from angles otherwise impossible. Their joints were impossibly flexible, and each of their limbs had a dozen distributed throughout. When not in use, the extra hinges would contract, leading their forearms to take on an accordion-like shape.


    His partner, the other man, was only a fifth of his height. The familiar mantis stood out from the group, both for his renowned race, and because he was the only one that had attempted to dress formally. His lack of knowledge of formal wear, however, was only made apparent by the poor attempt. He was wearing both a dress and a bowtie, neither of which suited his insectoid frame.


    ¡°I am accompanied here by Sir Valek and Sir Matthias,¡± said the vampire. ¡°Valek shall be staying aboard the ship, but Matthais will be joining us in the dungeon.¡±


    ¡°Nice to finally meet you, Arciel. I¡¯ve heard a lot about you from Claire and Sir Ray¡¯esce,¡± said Lia. The catgirl extended a hand. ¡°I¡¯m Lia, Armidian Fastpaw.¡±


    ¡°Arciel, Imperial Bloodkraken.¡± She took the cat¡¯s outstretched paw in her hand and gave it a solid shake. ¡°I suppose it has come time to form our party, now that we have all passed and recovered from each other¡¯s tests?¡±


    ¡°Sur¡ª¡± The catgirl¡¯s ears twitched. ¡°Wait, each other¡¯s tests?¡± She slowly craned her neck towards Claire, who turned her own head away in pace. ¡°You didn¡¯t tell me you tested her.¡±


    ¡°Well I did.¡±


    ¡°It was among the most difficult evaluations I have had the liberty to endure,¡± said the vampire squid. ¡°I did not expect to survive.¡±


    ¡°Claire! What did you do!?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± said one halfbreed.


    ¡°She used her breath,¡± said the other.


    Natalya did her best to smile, but it came out strained. ¡°That must have been tough. I¡¯m sorry, she¡¯s a little bit¡­ of a free spirit.¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Hardly.¡± She pointed at the fox moving back and forth across the venue. ¡°Sylvia¡¯s a free spirit. I¡¯m normal.¡±


    The fae fox appeared by the lyrkress¡¯ side at the mention of her name, her head tilted to the side and three whole fish stuffed inside her mouth with only their tails still visible. ¡°Mfmrph?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I mean,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Oh.¡± Sylvia swallowed her meal before vanishing through another portal. ¡°Well it¡¯s not my fault! This stuff¡¯s way too tasty!¡± she said, her head peeking out through the dimensional gate.


    ¡°She must be difficult to keep well fed,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°A bit,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°May I have her then? It would cut down on your expenses.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± The lyrkress magically lifted a pebble off the ground and flicked it at the sea witch¡¯s forehead. ¡°I told you. Mine.¡±


    ¡°What a shame.¡±


    ¡°You can have this one instead.¡± Claire grabbed Natalya by the shoulders and pulled her between them.


    ¡°H-huh? Wait, you can¡¯t just give me to people!¡± shouted the cat.


    Arciel took a moment to slowly look the feline up and down. ¡°That is certainly quite the enticing offer.¡±


    ¡°Do I not get a say in this!?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Not at all.¡±


    Having spoken in sync, the two highborn exchanged glances, smiles forming on both their lips soon after.


    ¡°I knew I was right to have you as an ally, Claire Au¡ª¡±


    Her jaw was clamped shut, and her tongue pierced by her sharpened teeth.


    ¡°My silence is only contingent on yours.¡±


    Raising two hands in surrender, the vampire licked the fresh blood off her lips. ¡°I shall endeavour to be more careful.¡±


    Greetings and introductions out of the way, the group quickly got on with the rest of their business. Valek, the priest, conducted the party-making ritual as its witness and divine communicator and quickly saw the two groups formed into one. Though it was performed in Griselda¡¯s name, and not Tzaarkus¡¯, the process was identical. The rite required no specific gods¡¯ power, only for a celestial or divine to enter its result into the eternal records.


    Claire took note of each of the members¡¯ levels as they signed up. Natalya had grown a fair bit, with her race in the 320s, and her average a bit over 400. Arciel was only slightly behind her, roughly forty lower in each category, while the silent knight, as the princess¡¯ escort, was ahead of them both. His race nearing five hundred, and his average significantly over it.


    ¡°Is the fox not joining us?¡± asked Arciel. ¡°I was under the impression that she was your druid, or perhaps something else of the sort.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯ll be accompanying us, but not joining the party,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°And she won¡¯t be fighting either.¡±


    ¡°I know it sounds like it¡¯s a bit of a weird arrangement, but it¡¯s what she wants,¡± added Lia.


    ¡°Well, I suppose I have no reason to object.¡± The vampire squid paused for a moment to sip from her glass. ¡°Now all that is left is for us to sort out our name. What were you calling yourselves before?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°Nothing? That is a rather interesting choice,¡± said Arciel. ¡°We had described ourselves the Overpaid Fishmongers, and as I am certain you may have surmised already, we were specialised in bounties, those involving runaways and rescues in particular.¡±


    Claire sighed internally. ¡°We didn¡¯t have a name.¡±


    Taking a long look at the lyrkress, and subsequently giving up on reading her blank expression, Arciel turned to the cat, who nodded in affirmation.


    ¡°I¡¯ve made a few suggestions here and there, but none of them stuck.¡±


    ¡°I do not see the purpose in avoiding one. How are you meant to be remembered, if not with your name?¡±


    ¡°We aren¡¯t supposed to be remembered,¡± said Claire.


    Lia, who also preferred to stay incognito, agreed to the statement with a series of vigorous nods. Arciel was less compliant. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips were pursed into a frown, but she stopped short after noting the lyrkress¡¯ icy glare and glowing throat.


    ¡°Surely something inconspicuous would do?¡±


    ¡°No. No names,¡± said Claire. ¡°And that¡¯s final.¡±


    ¡°I suppose if you insist,¡± sighed the vampire.


    With that particular topic out of the way, the vampire began to prod at their strategies. Natalya was invested in steering the conversation, but Claire spaced out in record time. She surely would have fallen asleep where she stood, had the food been any worse.


    Three others joined her in avoiding the discussion. The priest drowned himself in wine, the knight dozed off where he sat, and Sylvia, to the servers¡¯ dismay, dedicated herself to eating as much as she possibly could.


    It wasn¡¯t until the landing platform started to descend that Claire finally snapped to attention. Marquis Pollux was standing in the lead, dressed from head to toe in the most ridiculous outfit she had ever seen on the man¡¯s bulky frame.


    He was wearing a dress, specifically one of a centaurian make. The gown was clearly meant for the woman in the loose-fitting tuxedo standing beside him; his bulging muscles were stretching the once elegant garment in all the wrong ways and places. It was technically tailored so that it could sit on his frame, but provided an exceptionally poor glimpse of the benefits that an alliance to the Cadrians would bring. He almost didn¡¯t look wealthy, in spite of his giant floating island.


    ¡°Ladies and gentlemen! A moment of your time please!¡± The centaur spoke, his voice magically amplified to reach even the furthest ends of the venue. ¡°We will now begin the boarding process. All groups please report to the landing platform immediately. The main courses and desserts will be awaiting you up above. We will also be engaging in a mission brief detailing the location and any corresponding expectations.¡±


    Silently, her eyes on the winged centaur¡¯s face, Claire joined the crowd and prepared to rise into the sky.


    The landing platform was a massive slab of rock, an independent piece of the fortress capable of freely navigating the skies. Its centerpiece was large enough to support a fully equipped army of two hundred Cadrian warriors, with enough space ahead of them for the unit¡¯s commander to stand upon a platform and offer a briefing. The party¡¯s guests were neither as numerous nor as bulky. The headcount barely reached the triple digits, even with the occasional individual possessing multiple craniums. While there were a few giants among the hired swords, the average fighter was maybe half the size of an adult male centaur.


    Whirring to life with a low, magical hum, the artifact began to climb once all the guests were assembled. Standing aboard the slow-moving platform and peering off the edge brought a small smile to Claire¡¯s face. The manor¡¯s landing platform had always seen a similar lack of speed. Her attempts to sneak away would often end with Durham swooping down through the clouds and capturing her before she could reach the ground.


    ¡°Is it just me, or does this thing feel a little unsteady?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± said Claire. ¡°You¡¯re the only thing unsteady.¡±


    Unlike the Cadrian native, Lia was incapable of hovering around the platform¡¯s edge. Her whole body shook every time she looked at the castle below. Even huddled on the ground, she continued to tremble, her face buried in her knees and her eyes spinning.


    ¡°Are you sure? It feels like it¡¯s going to fall out of the sky.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! It¡¯s not that bad.¡±


    The fox, who had opted to pursue the waitstaff over boarding the platform, appeared behind the cat and placed a hand on her shoulder. The action was accompanied by an ear-piercing scream. Lia flew fifty feet into the air, and while she failed to jump out of her own skin, she did leap beyond the platform¡¯s range. Had a force not reeled her back, she surely would have plummeted to the ground below.


    ¡°P-please don¡¯t do that, Sylvia!¡± shouted the hysterical feline. She clung to her unamused snake-tailed saviour with her eyes teary and her heart pounding.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± The prankster stuck out her tongue. ¡°But it really isn¡¯t that bad! And besides, you¡¯re a cat! You¡¯re supposed to land on all fours no matter how far you fall.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a catgirl,¡± said the cat. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that doesn¡¯t apply to us!¡±


    ¡°It does, from what I have heard,¡± said Arciel. ¡°It is often said that catgirls shall endure, even in the case that they are thrown off the edge of a castle¡¯s ramparts.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard anything like that!¡±


    ¡°We can test,¡± said Claire. She grabbed the cat¡¯s face and tried to push it away, ¡°Get off,¡± but Lia continued clinging to her for dear life.


    ¡°I can¡¯t! You¡¯re just going to throw me off the lift!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± said the lyrkress, as she eyed the ground below. ¡°We¡¯re almost there.¡±


    The elevator was already nine tenths of the way through its five minute ascent. They had already passed the control center in the fortress¡¯ triangular basement and were slowly climbing to ground level. But contrary to the passengers¡¯ expectations, the lift did not stop or even slow enough to allow for disembarkment. The platform accelerated as it continued to climb, taking them far into the clear night sky. The swirling abyss of clouds, their final destination, was the only mass still visible. There was not a single puff suspended beneath the heavens anywhere else to be seen.


    Some began finding it harder to breathe as they continued to ascend, while others started to shiver. But whatever the case, their lack of comfort was resolved when the servants walked through the crowd. Each individual was given a packet containing a potion to neutralise the cold, thinning air, a pamphlet detailing the dungeon¡¯s dangers, and a distinctive magical device that did neither. The artifact, a ring of rune-carved stone with a gaping hole in its center, activated as soon as its magic circuit was ignited, magnifying all that lay within its opening. The party¡¯s participants had already started playing with the magical telescope, with many casting their eyes on the various faraway sights in childlike wonder.


    Recognizing the toy, Claire put hers away without draining its charge. It was placed in one of the many pockets that lined the inside of her skirt, right next to Farenlight¡¯s horns. Her eyes already possessed the same function, and she was confident that her ability was more potent than a device meant for children and perverts.


    ¡°Before we continue our banquet, I would like to provide you all with the most wondrous of sights.¡± Marquis Pollux rose from his seated position as the ascension finally slowed to a halt. He alone flew higher up, taking to the sky with his wings spread wide and everything obscured by his dress exposed to the unfortunate crowd standing beneath him.


    ¡°Behold, Vel¡¯khanese warriors. Beyond the northern sky lies the most technologically advanced marsh on this continent.¡±


    Ignoring the eye-scaring scene and following the tip of his finger, she looked across the firmament, at the lights that lay beyond. It was her first time so high up at night, her first time seeing with such clarity and certainty the location of her homeland.


    It stood out from the rest of the world. While everything else was dark, with the closer settlements¡¯ firelights only barely visible, the Cadrian cities were shimmering blurs off in the distance. Each dotted the sky around it with colour, vague hints of blue that almost seemed to rebel against the natural order enforced by the moon and the stars.


    The closest of the domains was practically a beacon. Its lights were particularly powerful, cutting through the night in a manner reminiscent of a line of fire. Like a jewel atop a clump of mud, the marquis¡¯ domain, the home of Cadria¡¯s artificers, and the forge where its magical fortresses were crafted, was impossible to miss.


    ¡°For hundreds of years, it has stood as a symbol of Cadrian power, a centre for the artisans and their successors. And tonight, it stands true again for your viewing pleasure.¡± His voice rang with the strength and confidence of many. ¡°Even from here, hundreds of kilometers away, it can be clearly seen even in the absence of Griselda¡¯s guidance. Now, through the powers of knowledge, the studying of the magical sciences, and the understanding of the world around us, we stand as more than mere mortals. We are true adventurers, cutting through the darkness with blades of enlightenment. And it is through these powers that we have brought you this experience today.¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence, followed by an awkward, scattered clapping. Many were still stuffing their faces, and had nowhere to put their plates and utensils.


    ¡°It is often said that artifacts are to be feared and disregarded, that the limitations and bans that the gods had placed upon them were just, and that the powers they brought were unnatural. But that rule has long been revoked. There is no longer a reason for our everyday lives not to be bettered by these convenient tools, no longer a reason to forgo a better quality of life without fear of angering the great gods and goddesses above.¡±


    The marquis threw a handful of bombs into the air, with each exploding into a cloud of dust that took on the shape of a god.


    ¡°And to demonstrate their utility, outside of a specific military capacity, we have prepared for you a number of dishes prepared entirely by our prided mechanised chefs. Behold.¡±


    Rising from its previous position, the fortress soared through the air, caught up to the boarding platform, and docked alongside it. The manor had undergone a rapid overhaul in the few minutes that its guests had spent staring beyond the sky. It was covered in decorations; tables had appeared all over the courtyard, each completely covered in Cadrian delicacies. Whole roasted cows, vekratt-steeped stews, laughing rabbit eggs, and roasted suckling boars ready and waiting to be eaten. All manner of servants, centaurs, cottontails, thorae, and even locals were standing by, primed to restock the buffet in case of fox.


    ¡°I shall keep you no longer. The rest, I wish for you to hear with your stomachs,¡± said the Cadrian. ¡°Now eat! Enjoy this feast, this evening, to your heart''s content.¡± He raised his glass into the air. ¡°For tomorrow, we forget our pretenses and our ranks, and step upon the battlefield as equals. Tomorrow, we go to war.¡±

 Chapter 191 - Skyreach Spire III

    Chapter 191 - Skyreach Spire III


    Cheers resounded through the crowd as the marquis¡¯ words were repeated. The fighters clinked their glasses and jumped right into flooding their bloodstreams with liquor. Even diluted, the vekratt served at the drink counter was strong enough to fell any man. Dwarves and giants alike toppled within the first half of the Merdle-marked barrel, with the priest in Arciel¡¯s group following soon after.


    The insect drank so much of the distilled poison that the lyrkress almost thought him certainly on the path to his death, but her vulpine companion insisted that he was experiencing a sweet dream instead. It was an altered version of his youth, one where he was caught in the middle of his sister¡¯s seduction and subsequently shipped off to the church.


    Claire and Sylvia aside, the group¡¯s members had gone their separate ways. Lia was gorging herself on the skin of a barbecued pig, citing it as reminiscent of a Paunsean dish, while the vampire squid had sought Admiral Ray¡¯esce for a separate discussion. Rather than accompanying her, her knight had joined the line of heavy drinkers that dared to test their mettle against the infamous Cadrian brew.


    ¡°Have you finished eating?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Mhm!¡± Switching back to her fox form, she plopped herself atop the lyrkress¡¯ head with her eyes closed and her tail lazily swishing back and forth. ¡°I finally got to try that beef stuff you kept talking about.¡±


    ¡°Delicious, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. But it seemed a little mad at me.¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Well it started mooing really angrily because I only ate the flank and left the rest.¡±


    A giggle escaped the longmoose¡¯s lips as she imagined the sad, half-eaten cow that was the pet¡¯s last victim. ¡°Stupid fox. You¡¯re not supposed to eat the ones that are still alive.¡±


    ¡°Really? The living fish are always the tastiest, and if you let them go after a few bites they can grow back, so you can eat them again later.¡±


    ¡°Cows aren¡¯t fish. And I¡¯ve never seen you not eat a whole fish.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s only ¡®cause none of the fish out here stay alive when their heads are bitten off!¡±


    ¡°Of course it is.¡±


    Claire alternated between sips of wine and bites of steak as she slowly walked around the premises. On occasion, she would glance at the mansion¡¯s master and alter her trajectory. Remaining on the opposite side of the courtyard was a must. The last thing she wanted was for him to make her.


    It was precisely during one such bout of observation that she happened to run into one of the maids. The wine glasses on the servant¡¯s tray tumbled out of place, with some catching on Claire¡¯s dress and others plummeting to the ground and breaking apart. The clattering drew many eyes; the nearby guests craned their heads to take a look at the source of the commotion.


    ¡°Sorry.¡± Her eyes still on the surroundings, Claire extended an arm. ¡°I didn¡¯t notice you.¡±


    She expected the maid to accept the assistance and offer an apology in kind. But what she received instead was a good look at an extremely familiar face.


    ¡°Claire!?¡±


    The servant was unmistakable, and her preachy-sounding voice only furthered the evidence of her identity. She was a smaller centaur, standing at the tiny height of only 175 centimeters. Her colouration was on the darker side of brown, with only her hair slightly lighter. And though she was known for eating far more than her peers, her figure was arguably perfect. There was not a hint of unnecessary fat anywhere but upon her disproportionately bountiful chest.


    Her name was Mariabelle Phlence, and she was the lady in waiting that had attended to House Augustus¡¯ heiress for over a decade.


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°You are not fooling me with just a veil, Claire.¡±


    Marie grabbed her former charge by the wrist before she could escape and took a good long look at the longmoose¡¯s last line of defense. She reached for it following a brief delay, but the half-centaur evaded her grasp with a twist of the head.


    ¡°You have the wrong person.¡±


    ¡°I most certainly do not.¡± Looking around, Marie noted the amount of unwanted attention before quickly getting to her feet. Her hand still tugging the other blueblood¡¯s wrist, she ordered another servant to retrieve a broom, and moved straight towards the manor¡¯s front door. ¡°Let¡¯s continue this conversation inside.¡±


    Though somewhat reluctant, Claire allowed herself to be dragged away. Her cover was blown and it was too late to undo the mistake. There were too many witnesses. Most of the Cadrians present, namely the manor¡¯s guards and servants, had already put two and two together. Claire¡¯s ears caught a number of mentions of her father, as well as several concerns regarding the state of her throat. A few particularly passionate individuals had even brought up the war effort, citing her supposedly renewed ability to speak as evidence that the attack on Kryddar was just, while others commented on her form and speculated the details of her ascended race. But whatever they discussed, one thing remained constant. Any doubts to her identity were immediately silenced by the claim that the maid would not mistake her mistress. She was one of House Augustus¡¯ servants, after all.


    ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    Claire broke the silence, raising a question half under her breath as they passed through the foyer.


    ¡°I should be asking you that,¡± said the horse. ¡°Do you really not remember? I could have sworn I told you at least three times before I left.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± They walked through the halls as they spoke, eventually arriving in front of a guest bedroom.


    It had only been a week since she invaded the residence, but walking through it with permission provided a completely different impression. The corridors felt nowhere near as long, and the corners far less sudden or unpredictable. The cold, uninviting atmosphere gave way to a homely feel, only amplified by the personal quarters that Marie had shown her to.


    The maid¡¯s things were scattered throughout the bed chamber. There was only one bed, but two sets of luggage. For every pair of ties neatly squeezed into a suitcase, there was a bra lazily tossed onto a chair, a pair of undergarments left on the floor, and a dress atop the canopy.


    ¡°Sirius is going to be taking part in the expedition, and I¡¯ve tagged along as something of a guest.¡±


    ¡°Which Sirius?¡± Claire tilted her head. ¡°The Numitor heir? Or Vulcan¡¯s fourth son?¡±


    ¡°My fianc¨¦, of course.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know which one that is.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Marie leaned forward and pressed a hand to Claire¡¯s still-veiled forehead. ¡°Hmmm¡­ you don¡¯t seem sick, and I¡¯m not getting that feeling I always get when you mess with me¡­¡±


    ¡°Those are the first two things I always check too,¡± said the lyrkress¡¯ hat.


    The count¡¯s daughter reacted with a start, but soon calmed herself with deep breaths, her hand resting atop her chest. ¡°Is that fox¡­ alive?¡± She looked at Claire, who breathed a small sigh.


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    ¡°Of course. This is Sylvia, my pet.¡±


    ¡°Wait a second! I¡¯m not your pet, you¡¯re my pet!¡± jeered the dog.


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Marie regarded the fox with the most pitiful of glances.


    ¡°Uhm¡­ why are you looking at me like that?¡± asked the misshapen rabbit.


    ¡°There is a good reason that Claire is not allowed to have any pets.¡±


    ¡°There is?¡± said the moose and the fox in unison.


    Marie walked over to the dresser, threw off her sullied apron, and replaced it with another still sparkling white. ¡°Do you need anything to change into? I don¡¯t have any dresses in your size, but I should at least have a cloak or two to help you cover up.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Claire immediately banished the stains by changing the dress into a suit of armour and back.


    ¡°That is certainly quite the convenient ability,¡± said Lady Phlence. ¡°I wish you had that when you were younger. It would have saved us a lot of time on your laundry, with how muddy you got everything.¡±


    ¡°Stop reminiscing.¡± Claire lightly tapped the centaur¡¯s forehead. ¡°Keep explaining.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± The centaur smiled. ¡°So as I was saying¡­ of course there¡¯s a reason. Do you really think your father would make a rule like that without one?¡±


    Poker face unbroken, Claire shook her head. ¡°Probably not. But he never explained.¡±


    ¡°You were too young to remember when it happened, and I think he¡¯s convinced that¡¯s for the better.¡± Fresh outfit fully assembled, she spun around with her hands on the hips that linked her upper and lower halves. ¡°But the Master did buy you a puppy once, not too long after you first started to walk.¡± She continued after taking a moment to observe Claire¡¯s unchanged but clearly puzzled visage. ¡°But you decided that you wanted to use it like a make-believe sword. Apparently, you lifted the poor thing by the hind legs and nearly killed it by smacking it into Sir Vespran¡¯s armour.¡±


    ¡°Ohhhh, so that¡¯s when all this began!¡± Sylvia tapped one paw against the palm of the other. ¡°That explains everything.¡±


    Marie gave the fox another look of pity.


    ¡°Oh, uhm, not me,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°There¡¯s this guy called Boris, and¡­ hey wait a second.¡± Her tail flew up into the air. ¡°Claire?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Where are Boris and Marcelle? You didn¡¯t forget about them, did you?¡±


    The lyrkress averted her eyes. ¡°I can call Boris. Marcelle can just tag along.¡±


    ¡°You probably should. It¡¯s not really fair if they¡¯re the only ones missing out on all this delicious food!¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± She raised her hand in front of her and centered her consciousness on the oddly-shaped blade. ¡°Come, Boris.¡±


    The weapon was more obedient than it had been during her first attempt. Even without any vulpine assistance, it simply appeared in her hands, as if it had always been right there in her palm. Unlike Sylvia, Alfred, and every other experienced force mage, the lizard wasn¡¯t ripping portals in spacetime and leaping through them, but simply reattaching itself to a predetermined anchor.


    ¡°There. Done.¡±


    ¡°Wait, no you aren¡¯t! That¡¯s just Boris! Where¡¯s Marcelle!?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Claire. ¡°Maybe she went back to her group. She doesn¡¯t normally stick around for so long.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but no one¡¯s ever seen any of her friends, and she¡¯s been with us for like a whole week! You totally just made Boris ditch her, right Boris!?¡±


    A grunt escaping his throat, he did his best impression of a shrug before casually lying down on the carpet, staining it in the blood and gore that covered his body.


    ¡°What do you mean, she¡¯s probably fine!? You look like you came right out of a fight! I bet you¡¯re just saying that because you never really liked her to begin with!¡±


    The living weapon shook his head vehemently. Unlike the halfbred pair, he knew for certain that Marcelle was living her best life. Because elsewhere in the great sky was a new ruler, a misshapen mass of flesh freshly titled the queen of the birds.


    ¡°So?¡± While Sylvia accused Boris of treason, the Cadrian maid crossed her arms and looked at her mistress with an expectant gaze. But all she received, even after a few seconds of waiting, was the usual blank stare. It took her a few moments to realise that Claire had no idea what she was asking. ¡°When did your voice return?¡±


    The incline of the lyrkress¡¯ head only grew with the added clarification. ¡°I never lost it.¡±


    ¡°But you have not said a word to me in months!¡±


    ¡°Because I haven¡¯t seen you in months.¡± The lyrkress¡¯ veil receded into the ornaments on her ears as she gave the horse girl a curious stare.


    ¡°We just saw each other three weeks ago.¡±


    ¡°We haven¡¯t. And I¡¯ve also never heard anything about your engagement.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Mariabelle carefully inspected the lyrkress¡¯ face before slowly walking a circle around her. ¡°I know it does not look like you have hit your head, but we really should head down to the medical ward and have you checked. My brother is likely still at his desk, and I¡¯m sure he would not mind having a quick look.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Marie. I haven¡¯t hit my head. You¡¯re the one that¡¯s delusional.¡±


    ¡°Then how do you explain forgetting all the time you spent as a mute?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never been mute.¡± Shifting to her four-legged form, Claire seated herself in the centaurian chair in front of the dresser, her arms resting on its spine. ¡°And it¡¯s been more than three weeks since we last saw each other. I¡¯ve been in Vel¡¯khan for nearly three weeks, adventuring.¡± She pulled one of Headhydra¡¯s horns out from under her skirt and lightly tossed it in the maid¡¯s direction. ¡°That¡¯s from one of my kills.¡±


    Mariabelle scrambled to catch the crystalline object, but she fumbled it. It clattered onto the floor, falling onto a fancy but unironed dress.


    ¡°You have not the slightest idea how confused I am,¡± said the maid. ¡°Since when could you transform?¡±


    ¡°Since a few months ago.¡±


    ¡°But I saw you at the manor. I¡¯m sure of it¡­¡±


    ¡°The last time I was there was before the war started.¡± She magically retrieved the weapon and began fiddling with it, turning it round and round like the needle of a compass. ¡°What did Father say? When I stopped talking.¡±


    The centaur frowned. ¡°He told us that the attack robbed you of your voice.¡±


    The lyrkress was almost tempted to roll her eyes. ¡°Of course he did.¡± She pulled the fox off her head and started lightly running her fingers through the critter¡¯s fur. The only way she could get herself to relax. ¡°Enough about me. Aren¡¯t you supposed to be a guest? Why are you doing maid work?¡±


    The centaur had a look on her face that suggested her curiosity was not suppressed, but she breathed a sigh and went along with Claire¡¯s suggestion. ¡°They needed all the help they could get, and there was little else for me to do. Sirius is on guard duty, and I did not want to attend the party without him.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re missing out!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°The food was so tasty that I think I ate more than I did in the last two weeks combined.¡±


    ¡°That can¡¯t be right,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°Do you not remember all the fish you devoured, when I was trying to finish my ascension?¡±


    ¡°Of course I do, silly! They were really tasty. Especially that tuna. And those salmon¡­ and the eels and octopuses too. Okay, maybe you¡¯re right. I kinda did eat a lot more than I thought last week.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    ¡°One moment.¡± Marie leaned in and gave the fox a good look. ¡°Are you the girl with four ears? The one that went around eating everything?¡±


    ¡°Yup!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And it was all super tasty.¡±


    ¡°You have been causing us a lot of trouble,¡± huffed the maid. ¡°I would be willing to wager that you were the one that assaulted Agnes in the kitchen too.¡±


    ¡°Agnes? Who¡¯s that?¡± asked the troublemaker.


    ¡°The manor¡¯s dairy cow. She was meant to be providing us with an ample supply of milk so we made tonight¡¯s dessert, but she suddenly stopped producing it and is no longer allowing anyone near her.¡±


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ I don''t think so,¡± lied the fox, through her teeth. ¡°A-anyway, your fiance must be a really neat guy, right?¡±


    ¡°He is!¡± the centaur¡¯s eyes almost seemed to light up at the mention of her beloved. ¡°Sirius is the most gallant knight in the force, and I believe one of the most powerful as well.¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°You still haven¡¯t answered. Which Sirius?¡±


    ¡°Postumus.¡± The lady¡¯s face reddened, but only slightly. ¡°Sirius Postumus.¡±


    ¡°The one that¡¯s inherited the marsh closest to the Langgbjerns?¡±


    ¡°Yes, him.¡± She began fiddling with her hands. ¡°We¡¯re set to marry near the end of the year, right at the end of the eight month.¡±


    ¡°Really, Marie?¡± Claire sighed. ¡°You¡¯re going to marry the lord of the northern lands on the winter solstice?¡±


    ¡°I know it certainly does have an element of banality or two, but it has always been his family¡¯s tradition!¡± shouted the maid. ¡°A-and besides, I do think it is rather romantic.¡±


    ¡°Of course you do.¡± The halfbreed slowly shook her head before raising her eyes to meet the maid¡¯s, her lips a small smile. ¡°But congratulations.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Claire.¡± Mariabelle returned the gesture with a shy grin of her own. ¡°I was really hoping that you would be able to come. Where should I send your invitation? Would it be to the manor, or maybe some oth¡ª¡±


    The maid was cut off mid sentence by a light knock on the door. A pair of centaurs walked in almost immediately after. One was Mariabelle¡¯s promised, while the other was the one man she had not wanted to see. Marquis Timaios Pollux, in all his familiar glory.

 Chapter 192 - Skyreach Spire IV

    Chapter 192 - Skyreach Spire IV


    Closing the door behind themselves, the two centaurian additions each placed a hand on his chest and bowed. Both were Marquis¡ªwarrior lords entrusted with the defense of Cadria¡¯s borders¡ªand both were thrice ascended, but their appearances shared little beyond a basic outline. One was a bucking young stallion with a thick beard, a coat of jet black fur, and a short head of scruffy hair to match. His wings were not the feathered standard, but rather veiny and insectoid, evidence of the thoraen blood that flowed through his veins.


    The other was an older man with a curled moustache. His mane, which for the most part was still a fiery red, was so long that it ran all the way down his humanoid back. On the battlefield, it would have been left untamed, but it was perfectly arranged for the formal occasion, lifted into a graceful, flowing ponytail. Had his dress been better tailored to hide his bulging muscles, it almost would have been possible to mistake him for a member of the finer sex.


    ¡°Lady Augustus. Your presence is unexpected, but most welcome. You have grown plenty since I last saw you. Congratulations.¡± The ancient marquis met her gaze with a bright, confident smile. ¡°And Lady Phlence, I thank you again for your service in our time of need.¡±


    ¡°Good evening, Lord Pollux,¡± said Mariabelle, with a curtsy.


    Silently standing up from her seat, Claire said not a word, but met the men with a brief nod.


    Log Entry 6815


    You have acquired the Cadrian Court Etiquette skill.


    A familiar card returned to Claire¡¯s hand as she looked down on him the same way she always had. Like weapon mastery, the etiquette skill was meant to provide a passive bonus that would aid her in combat.


    Log Entry 6816


    A discrepancy has been discovered and reconciled. Cadrian Court Etiquette has been adjusted to its maximum level.


    But she required no such thing. Her posture was already perfect, her lack of respect rightful, and her emotions perfectly hidden beneath her two-layered mask. Had she left anything to the skill, she would have long been consumed by the wolves that haunted the palace.


    ¡°It is an honour, Lady Augustus,¡± said the younger marquis.


    Still silent, she approached the younger man and clasped his hands in hers. When their eyes met, she nodded and smiled, taking care to ensure that her ears remained unmoving. The last thing she wanted was for the already jealous maid looming behind her to mistake the congratulatory gesture as a means of flirtation.


    ¡°I was put under the impression that you had regained your voice.¡± A frown on his face, Pollux brought a hand to moustache and stroked it. ¡°At least if the testimonies are to be believed.¡±


    Shaking her head, Claire began pouring her magic into the crystal in her hands. Once it was charged enough to sport a faint glow, she pressed it into the fox¡¯s palm and raised the creature so it was level with her face.


    ¡°I c-cannot?¡± stuttered the fox. ¡°It is true that I have uhmm¡­ appropriated a means of communication, but it is not in my voice that my words are spoken.¡±


    The bulky marquis cocked a brow. ¡°What an interesting artifact that is.¡±


    ¡°It was uh¡­ laboriously obtained from the depths of an¡­ adventitious dungeon, located well within the great rainforest¡¯s depths. Unfortunately, it is not fully err¡­ conducive to the replication of formal speech,¡± said the glowing rock fox. ¡°Hey, wait a second! What¡¯s that supposed to mean!?¡±


    Sylvia spun around and lightly drummed Claire¡¯s face, but she was soon repositioned just far enough for her target to be out of reach.


    ¡°Would you mind if I took a quick look?¡±


    Nodding silently, Claire handed both objects over to the marquis, who carefully eyed each before infusing his magic into the horn. When he pressed it to the fox, he did so gently, and made sure that it was firmly wrapped in her hands.


    ¡°This is a test to confirm the uhmmm¡­ malleability and greatest extent of this unit¡¯s functionality as well as the err¡­ comprehensibility of its diction and the length of the phrases it remains capable of uhm¡­ rendering in a breath.¡±


    ¡°Fascinating. Very fascinating. I haven¡¯t the slightest clue as to the way that it functions,¡± he said, his eyes alight. ¡°The magic does not quite appear to be encoded within the crystal in any known format, and the fox¡¯s circuits are too complicated to analyze. Truly, a marvelous pair.¡±


    Claire nodded before taking back her tools.


    ¡°Your interest has been noted. However, Marquis err¡­ Poorcucks, it is unfortunately beyond the realm of uhm¡­ feasibility for me to offer up a tool that er¡­ resin states?¡± Sylvia tilted her head before clapping her paws together. ¡°Oh, reinstates! It is beyond the realm of feasibility for me to offer up a tool that reinstates my ability to speak,¡± she repeated, more confidently.


    ¡°That is certainly a fair point,¡± he said, with a smile. ¡°So? To what do I owe the honour?¡±


    ¡°It is not for any particular err¡­ impetus that I am present, but rather a uhmmm¡­ serendipitous happenstance of uhmmm¡­ infinitesimal proportions, for I was one of the err¡­ fortuitous few to have been uhmm¡­ solicited for their uhhhh¡­ m¨¦tier.¡± Sylvia narrowed her eyes and spun around again. ¡°Hey, wait a second! Now you¡¯re just using hard words to mess with me!¡±


    There was a brief pause.


    ¡°What do you mean you have to!?¡±


    Another pause.


    ¡°Wha!? I¡¯m not rude! You¡¯re the one that¡¯s being rude by calling me rude! Ugh! I can¡¯t believe how mean you are sometimes.¡± The fox spun back around following a quick cheek pinch. ¡°Unfortunately, the use of this artifact requires the cooperation of a um¡­ reynard possessing a rather er¡­ vacuous intellect. Communication has become a more uhm¡­ arduous assignment.¡± Again, the fox spun around. ¡°Hey, wait a second! You just called me stupid, didn¡¯t you!? That¡¯s it! I¡¯m not talking for you anymore.¡± Huffing, she crossed her arms, raised her snout, and turned her face away.


    Claire looked to the gentlemen, placed a hand on her chest and curtsied before setting both the vixen and the crystal down beside her.


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    ¡°No need to apologise, Lady Augustus,¡± said Marquis Pollux, with a chuckle. ¡°Your plight has been made apparent.¡± He continued after a subtle nod urged him on. ¡°I will be preparing for your party a sequence of rooms for the duration of your stay, separate from the barracks prepared for the other adventurers. You are free to request any additional needs or wants from the servants.¡± He looked briefly at Sylvia. ¡°Will you be requiring a litter box?¡±


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s even more r¡ª¡±


    Claire clamped the fox¡¯s mouth shut and shook her head.


    ¡°Excellent. In that case, I shall be returning to the party in order to finish playing my role as host. Please come see me in my office at a later date, once your device has volunteered itself to speak again.¡±


    Bowing again, the older centaur excused himself from the room and walked back down the hall with a brisk trot. The younger man, however, stayed behind and continued to hold his position until addressed with a nod.


    ¡°I simply wished to thank you, Lady Augustus, for providing Mariabelle with so much enrichment. She always does appear to enjoy speaking of you and the various antics that you have gotten yourself up to.¡± He smiled kindly before rising to his feet. ¡°It is a shame that we have not an extended opportunity to speak, as I must also be returning to my duties. Please do not hesitate to speak to us if there is anything that does not meet your requirements.¡± His part said, he winked at Marie and followed the other marquis down the hall.


    ¡°Wow! That was stuffy as heck.¡± Sylvia spoke as soon as she was confident that they were out of earshot. ¡°Is being a noble always that much of a pain?¡±


    ¡°Not always.¡± Claire tucked the crystal back under her skirt before lifting the fox into her arms.


    ¡°Claire, please don¡¯t tell me you were doing that just to mess with them.¡± Marie pressed a hand to her face and groaned.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°I just didn¡¯t think it necessary for Pollux to know that I am not a mute.¡± Armed with a fresh understanding of her recent dreams, Claire retracted her spike and pulled her pet closer to her chest. There was clearly something going on behind the scenes. And she was confident that one night¡¯s sleep was all she required to determine exactly what that thing was.


    ___


    That night, after catching up with the naggy maid that had always been her confidant, and seeing her drunken companions to their upgraded suites, Claire found herself struggling to fall asleep. It was not the fault of the unfamiliar bed. The fluffy mattress was more than soft enough to appease even the pickiest of royals, and her sheets had all the qualities that one would expect from the finest silk. Its comfort had already been proven by Sylvia, who passed out just a few minutes after hitting the hay, but the scalewarden struggled to seek the night¡¯s embrace. Every bit of effort she put into sleeping pushed the land of dreams further and further away.


    After what felt like an hour of failed attempts, she got out from beneath the sheets and stepped onto the balcony. The dungeon was much closer than it had been earlier in the evening. The cloudy formation had long grown from a distant pile upon the horizon to a giant looming spiral, an immediate threat for anything that happened to cross its path. She could see the individual clouds churning in the vortex, spinning as they were repeatedly consumed and reformed by the razor winds. And it was only getting closer, slowly growing larger and larger as the Cadrian ship flew through the starlit sky.


    According to the pamphlet, the passengers were meant to disembark for their preliminary investigations in the afternoon. Claire almost couldn¡¯t wait. Had she not had any companions, she surely would have plunged her way through the storm, and sought out the dungeon that lay in its interior. It was not the thought of challenging monsters that had her heart pounding, but that of exploring new lands, of charting the deepest depths of terra incognita.


    It was a chance that she would never have had in Cadria. All the local dungeons had long been conquered by the knights, and those in the friendly neighbouring lands had met the same fate. There was no sense of mystery. Everything was already known and documented, robbing all future spelunkers of anything that even remotely resembled a sense of wonder.


    With a small sigh, Claire lowered her eyes and pressed her face into her hands. Seeing the spire had done everything but aid her predicament. There was no way she could possibly sleep with her heart pounding with excitement.


    ¡°Come to think of it, I¡¯ve never really tested just how fast I can go.¡±


    She glanced around the empty courtyard before turning her nightgown into a casual blouse and leaping onto the ground. Completely ignoring all the guards that curiously watched her, she slowly walked through the garden, her eyes on all the distinctly Cadrian plants, and approached the airship¡¯s far edge.


    The barrier was disabled. The wind would have been broken had it been active, but she could clearly feel the breeze against her skin, gently blowing by as they soared. Still ignoring the concerned centaurs glancing in her direction, she leapt off the edge, her arms spread wide and her tail dangling behind her.


    She stopped shy of sprouting her wings and allowed herself to plummet through the sky. Something about the way that the world raced past her was liberating, enlightening almost. She could feel her spirits calm as the night became her bed. It simply felt right. Just as right as it had when she was deep in the sea.


    Disregarding the winged centaur that had leapt after her, she altered the forces affecting her body and turned gravity on an angle. It began pulling her away from the sea and up into the sky above, towards the infinite abyss of space.


    She could tell that the air was growing thin. It offered less and less resistance as she rose, but she had no trouble breathing. Once high enough, she shooed away all the forces affecting her, pulled out her wings, and cut through the sky like a blade. She had no idea where she was even going, but Pollux Manor had become a speck on the horizon by the time she decided to slow.


    The tower, on the other hand, had become even more of a monumentous obstacle. It was so massive that she quickly lost the ability to see it in all its glory. She tried to focus on the various pieces, filling her vision with an assembly of different images, only to discover that she could process a maximum of exactly 138 concurrent perspectives¡ªnot enough to paint the diorama.


    Spinning around, she began working her wings and vectors in tandem. Everything she had was used to send her body plummeting into the sea. Her momentum carried her a hundred meters into the ocean, the water the only thing to break her fall.


    She continued falling through it until she spotted a series of distant lights. And upon chasing them, discovered a Vel¡¯khanese city. There were only a few hints of illumination, but its architectural style was mostly identical to the half of Vel¡¯khagan stuck beneath the waves.


    Magical lights began to flicker on as she continued pushing through the sea, rapidly enough to cause a loud disturbance. Two orcapeds, which she presumed to be with the city¡¯s guards, began chasing her with lamps held in their tentacles, their faces twisted to reveal their obvious annoyance. Smiling to herself, she swam away, quickly as she could, and rose back above the water¡¯s surface, where she spread her arms wide and allowed a series of haphazardly inverted gravitational forces to pull her off in random directions. Again and again, she fell through the sky, freer than any bird or winged horse. After one such fall, she took a moment to look across the aether and focus on the manor, where she found the centaur that had jumped after her floating around and scratching his head.


    Smirking, she decided to play a prank on the armed soldier. After moving out of the city limits, she dove into the ocean again, took on her true form, and swam through it as quickly as she could. Once directly below him, she burst out of the waves and rose above him, scaring him into swinging wildly with his spear, before flying off again, giggling all the way.


    At her full size, her speed only increased. The sound barrier shattered when she pushed herself forward. She almost didn¡¯t want to stop even as she approached the spire. She could feel its winds pulling against her body, drawing her in to be consumed by its violence. But as much as she wanted to accept the challenge and break through the storm, she veered away at the last second, turned back into a humanoid, and fell in another direction. On a thousand whims, she veered off course, playing with her momentum and basking in a strange primeval joy.


    ¡°What the heck are you doing so early in the morning?¡±


    A fox appeared on her head soon after dawn broke, yawning sleepily with a paw held in front of her mouth.


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure.¡± The longmoose retracted her spike and pulled the orange furball into her chest. ¡°But it¡¯s fun. Want to join me?¡±


    ¡°Sure!¡±


    Snuggling into the embrace, the fox stretched her back and joined her half-bred pet in soaring through the sky.

 Chapter 193 - Skyreach Spire V

    Chapter 193 - Skyreach Spire V


    When Claire finally went to bed, it was in the middle of the sky. The sun was already looming, and the red and yellow sea had turned a shade of bright blue. Entertained but exhausted, the halfbred pair had simply laid down where they were with no regard for gravity or its woes. At first, Claire had tried to curl up inside one of the clouds that had come with the early morning breeze, but the large cotton balls were quickly deported, whisked off to lands unknown by the very same winds that had brought them out to sea.


    Still, even with her bed playing the part of a runaway teen and the sun goddess flashing her blinding rays in her face, Claire had no trouble falling asleep. Her eyelids were heavy from her midnight adventure and the fox napping in her arms provided all the softness and comfort that the clouds could not. Burying her face in the not-so-stuffed animal¡¯s fur provided her with a ticket that took her straight to the land of dreams.


    When her consciousness returned, she found herself standing in the middle of a familiar dreamscape, the strange house with the man and his ghost. She greeted each of them in turn, but shook her head when the man pointed at his artifacts. She walked away from his living room and placed a hand on the nearest closed door, opening it only as she focused her mind on the manor.


    Surely enough, a twist of the handle revealed the destination she had in mind. Albeit the wrong version.


    What she had hoped to see, upon stepping through the door, was a glimpse into the manor¡¯s current state, but even with her divine spark alight, she was unable to break through. What she arrived at instead was a convoluted, warped interpretation. The scale of each object laid out in the hallway was seemingly random. The bits and pieces were of haphazard sizes. None seemed to match any other, with even the corridor shrinking in places to a mere tenth of its original height.


    When she reached for another door and tried again, she found herself in a forest of mushrooms. Halfling-sized bipedal bears walked around the town, greeting her and each other with tips of the felted, beavertail fedoras. Those that she failed to greet back would pout, but she ignored them and continued along her way. Finding a door inside of a particularly lanky mushroom, she envisioned her destination for a third time and gave its knob a crank.


    But again, she failed. The next world she entered was one where everything was made of poorly-coloured, misshapen triangles, put together to form larger wholes. Its residents, strange cubes, were not as welcoming as the others and moved to attack her on sight, but she was taken away before any of them could make contact. An arm of a seemingly infinite length grabbed her by the cloak and reeled her through another door.


    When she spun around to meet her captor, she found the ghost, or at least what she assumed to be him. His face was obscured by a large rectangular mask made of a refined, light brown paper. There were holes in the face protector for his eyes, tiny round knobs that were sure to obstruct his field of view. His head was the only part of him that was covered in any which way. The rest of his body was stripped bare; adorned with nothing but a string necklace with an absurdly large green gem. Such appeared to be the norm for the realm that they had entered. They stood within a desert with great pyramids and sandy dunes in equal quantity. Its residents were almost buck naked. Their tanned bodies were exposed beneath the seven scorching suns, with their faces the sole exception; each wore the very same headdress that the phantom had donned.


    Bringing a hand to her face, she found that she was no different. Her own body had been forced into a tailless, bipedal form, and her head guarded with the very same paper covering. She reached to take it off, but he raised his hands in panic and shook his head as quickly as he could.


    He calmed and produced a key out of thin air when she complied. Spinning it around and grabbing it by the teeth, he handed it to her and pointed at the locket that accompanied his naked body.


    The spirit kept his chest held forward until she entered the golden object into his gem. The emerald behaved as if it were incorporeal and allowed the key to melt right in. Turning it, however, was nowhere near as easy. It refused to budge no matter how much strength she used. Not even putting her whole weight behind it could get the key to twist. When she looked at him again, he smiled, raised one of his hands, and produced the faintest of red and black flickers.


    Nodding, she began channeling her divinity. It started out as golden, but its pure light warped as her focus grew. The key began to turn, slightly, but each degree required an increase in her output. She was unable to put out all of the energy required; the key was stopped in its tracks a quarter of the way through its rotation. No pulling or turning could move it any further and her fingers were stuck to its handle. Her only choices were to finish it or remain stuck in a stalemate.


    So she opened her eyes.


    All of them.


    Her body shrank, her silhouette becoming like that of a child¡¯s. She could feel that her skin was still present, but it was completely invisible beneath the wriggling darkness that her body had become. Oculi sprouted from all over her frame, different shapes and sizes, accompanied in kind with mouths filled with sharp teeth. Her divinity began to obey her more readily as her form solidified, turning from golden to black and red with no further resistance, just like the key.


    The glowing object clicked into place as she looked around the world and attempted to understand all the layers she saw, to little avail. It didn¡¯t help that everything she gazed upon changed¡ªfroze in place¡ªas she processed the complex structures and systems that made it as functional as it was. And with the click went her perspective. Everything returned to the way that it was. She was left with only a sense of unease, a strange primal fear, and the taste of green lingering in the back of her throat.


    When she next blinked, she found herself sitting in front of the mirror in her room. Beatrice was standing behind her, brushing her hair. The various combs, clips, and ties sitting in front of the drawer suggested that she was being prepared for an event. By the look of it, it would take thirty minutes for the process to complete, but she had no such time to waste. Her divinity was all that kept her anchored to the other fake¡¯s body and it would drain before she could accomplish her goals if she did nothing but sit around.


    ¡°I have to go, Bea.¡±


    Having been caught off guard by the halfbreed¡¯s speech, Beatrice could only blink as the less-than-presentable lady stood up out of her chair and made for the nearest exit.


    ¡°Wait, Claire! We¡¯re not done! You have to hold it in! At least for five more minutes!¡± She tried chasing after her, but the runaway had already leapt out the window and climbed up onto the roof. Dashing along the tiles, Claire continued sprinting even as she reached the end of the building¡¯s right wing, and with her arms spread, flung herself straight off the floating island¡¯s far edge.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Though her vector magic was lacking all its usual potency, and her tail was only a fraction of its rightful size, she was able to steer herself straight towards the castle that was her destination. The guards were thrown into a panic, at first because they thought that an intruder had breached the barrier, and then because they realised her identity. Many began shouting for someone to catch her or break her fall, but she paralyzed the winged centaurs that rose to receive her the moment before they made contact and twisted out of their grasps.


    Upon closing in on the ground, she slowed just enough not to transform into a splatter of blood and greeted the palace¡¯s guards with a curtsy. When the confused men stepped away, she kicked herself back into high gear and ran through the halls at her less-than-impressive top speed, flabbergasting all the maids and soldiers that she encountered. Still, they moved out of her way and allowed her to pass. All of them knew of her supposed plight; none expected her to voice any words of justification, and some even looked on with pity.


    The halfbreed was completely out of breath by the time she reached the halfway mark, but continued pumping her legs until she finally stopped in front of her second cousin¡¯s room. Greeting the maids outside with a brief nod, she pushed open the doors, rushed to the bed, and threw the toilet-drinker¡¯s sheets out the window.


    ¡°The holy grail¡­¡± Princess Octavia did not so much as curl up in an attempt to stay warm. ¡°It¡¯s so yellow¡­¡± She continued to snore and sleep talk in blissful ignorance, completely unaware that she would soon catch a cold.


    A very annoyed Claire grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to shake her awake, but the beautiful white cervitaur showed no signs of stirring. She only mumbled nonsense in her sleep, completely unintelligible without the context of her dreams.


    Sighing, the lyrkress placed a hand over the other noble lady¡¯s mouth and pinched her nose shut, but not even that was anywhere near as effective as she would have liked. The dysfunctional princess almost appeared perfectly content to suffocate. It took coating her tail in bee venom and prodding her in the side to finally wake her.


    And even then, she did not react in any obvious way. Her eyes half open, she sat up, as if she had awoken from her slumber of her own accord.


    ¡°Good morning, Claire.¡± She greeted her cousin with a yawn, her head still wobbling back and forth. She looked ready to collapse on top of her bed and return to the land of dreams.


    ¡°Good morning, Octavia.¡±


    The pureblooded cervitaur did not react for the better part of ten seconds. Her silly moose brain had only ever been half functional to begin with, and her drowsy state left it with an excess of fog. ¡°You can speak again!?¡±


    ¡°Not important. I require an audience with the eleven horned king.¡±


    ¡°You want to see Ferdy? Why not just send him a letter?¡±


    ¡°There is no time.¡±


    Octavia¡¯s grandfather was a difficult man to get a hold of. His schedule was always flooded, and he had less free time than most. Requesting an audience was a process that would take weeks if not months, depending on the size of the queue. Whatever the case, it was far too long of a wait. There was no telling when her father would catch on and her own availability was similarly up in the air. Going through one of the royal¡¯s favourites was the only way to assure that she would be seen.


    ¡°Oh, fine¡­ You always have been a pushy one, and I suppose you would revert to your ways immediately upon regaining your voice.¡± Sighing, the older noble lady climbed out of her bed and looked towards the maid that had silently stepped inside the room. ¡°Balbina, could you please take Claire to my grandfather and tell him that I asked him to see her.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, I cannot,¡± said the maid. ¡°If you recall, my lady, King Ferdinand is currently away and will not be back for another two weeks.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes! The countryside tour that he refused to take me on!¡±


    ¡°Precisely.¡±


    ¡°Useless ditz.¡± Sighing, Claire walked over to the desk by the window, grabbed a piece of parchment and wrote a note. Because it was addressed to the king, she paid extra care to the neatness of her handwriting and kept its message as clear and concise as she could without dropping any of the necessary formalities. A full, fancily worded letter was a waste of his time; he had enough pointless prose to deal with already. ¡°Give this to him when you see him again.¡±


    After signing her name, she handed the page to her cousin, cut her consciousness, and returned to the body she owned.


    The homunculus that had taken her place was unlikely to possess the instruction set required to navigate the castle, just as it lacked the instruction set for formal speech, but the lyrkress cared little. Its breakdown and collapse would only add authenticity to her claims.


    ___


    Half the morning hours had gone and went by the time Claire returned to Pollux Manor. Many of the guests were already awake, gathered in the training grounds where they sparred to pass the time. The Marquis had, of course, offered various pieces of entertainment. The bards that had performed the previous night were still present, and there were fields set up for various other pastimes aplenty, but only a few of the sellswords allowed themselves to leverage the distractions.


    Song and dance were best served alongside drink, and most veterans knew better than to enter the line of duty intoxicated. Such was how many of their allies, perhaps impressive in life, had eventually met their ends. Of course, that was not to say that there were no adventurers participating in the festivities. The giants claimed that they operated best with their blood pumped full of liquor, while those that had lost their consciousness to vekratt¡¯s venomous blade were catching up on all the fun they had missed.


    Breakfast was served in the same manner as the previous night¡¯s dinner. There were two large tables set up in the training grounds, free for any of the guests to pick and choose. And while her companions, new and old, joined the others in eating their breakfasts in the manor¡¯s courtyards, the long-tailed moose was stuck consuming hers in the dining room with the manor¡¯s lord.


    The room itself was amicable. Its wallpapers were of a warm, bright colour, and it had many windows through which the beautiful morning sun could stream. Likewise, the dishes laid out on the table were lovely¡ªopen top pastries smothered with fresh fruit and baked to perfection, delightful sausages seasoned with the sauces from the south, and cuts of cheese made of milk harvested from a selectively bred Cadrian cow¡ªbut the atmosphere was too tense for the lyrkress to enjoy them. Their seasonings were dulled by the marquis sitting opposite her; his presence forced her to split her attention away from all the intricate flavours. He clearly had something to say, and was waiting for her to finish to finally raise his voice.


    Joining them in the dining hall, Sylvia and Boris both sat at the table with cloth bibs wrapped around their necks. While Sylvia was given a booster seat, the same type that would allow infants and young children to be in attendance, Boris was positioned with his limbs splayed like the spatchcocked bird that was the breakfast¡¯s centerpiece. Both had been offered meals of kibble, and Boris had heartily dug in, but the fox had refused on the grounds that she would only eat people food.


    ¡°The butterfly blooms beneath the moon.¡± Timaios broke the silence once Claire put down her fork.


    Holding back a sigh, Claire lifted Sylvia away from her meal, pressed a crystal into her hand, and asked her to speak the second half of the key. ¡°From within his breast, a crimson lotus.¡± Evidence that she was not a fake.


    ¡°Enough of that ruse. I know you can speak.¡± The man leaned forward in his seat, hands clasped and elbows resting on the table. ¡°How did you survive the lost library?¡±

 Chapter 194 - Skyreach Spire VI

    Chapter 194 - Skyreach Spire VI


    The clattering of plates echoed through the dining hall as Claire sprang across the hundred-seat table. She turned lyrkrian as she charged, her claws and hooves crushing the leftovers and shattering the silverware. Raising her foreleg, she drove a knee straight towards his face. It was a heavy blow, carrying with it all the force required to crush a solid block of iron.


    Though he clearly saw it coming, Timaois did not react. He sat where he was and accepted the strike with his forehead. A grin spread across the warlord¡¯s lips as he felt his head ring, as a tiny trickle of blood flowed from the cut above his brow. It was not her brute force that had injured him, but rather the blade of true ice that had extended from the joint; the bone she had grown beyond its usual length. A second attack came immediately after the first. The talon beneath his chin snapped forward; its sharpened claws wrapped themselves around his throat and gripped it like a vice. Her natural blades pierced his skin, but not his muscle. His neck refused to snap, no matter how much she tightened her grasp.


    Still, Claire continued to attack. She began sapping his life through their point of contact, stealing his health. But the speed at which she robbed it was not in excess of his regeneration. Because unlike the artificer, he was a flagbearer, a frontline warrior that drew more fire than his peers. Damage mitigation was nothing if not his speciality.


    The marquis made a thoughtful humming noise as he grabbed her talons and squeezed their joints. Claire was unable to resist. Her claws were bent and her grip was forcefully loosened, but she refused to give him the upper hand. She pulled his body forward with a force and dragged his face towards the table. Crafting another vector, she raised the utensils that sat in front of him, propping them up and angling them at his eyes.


    The strange magic caught him off guard, but he was able to resist its pull. Stiffening his neck, he locked it in place and kept himself safe from the silverware.


    Until the knives flew.


    Both the butter and steak knives were plugged right into his sockets as an axe made of ice was brought down on his skull. Knowing both efforts to be exercises in futility, Claire locked him in place with her eyes and wrapped Shouldersnake around his neck. The venomous serpent dug its fangs into his arteries and diluted his blood with a deluge of poisons, but Timaois cared little.


    He was the man that had charged straight through the Grand Magus¡¯ spells. Nothing Claire did harmed him in any obvious way. The axe shattered on contact, the tableware failed to pierce his eyelids, and the serpent¡¯s bite did nothing to stop him from breathing.


    A faint smile playing on his lips, he threw Claire into the air and reached for his unwanted tie. Shouldersnake dove out of the way, but even empowered by all of its master¡¯s recently bolstered ability scores, the noodle was unable to escape. It was soon caught and tossed across the room, where it joined the other idle observers.


    Claire was not as quick to land. Releasing herself from gravity¡¯s pull, she hovered around in the air before slowly floating over to her chair and dropping down in her seat. Her body was turned humanoid, her armour was transformed back into a dress, and her posture was made perfectly correct, as if she had not just destroyed the table and attempted to murder its owner.


    ¡°I believe, Lady Augustus, that you were meant to throw a glove at me before you attacked.¡± Retrieving a handkerchief from the pocket in his chest, the marquis lightly cleaned off the scarlet droplets featured on his forehead. The wound itself was long gone; it had vanished by the time she struck him again.


    ¡°My sincerest apologies. I must ask that you excuse the breach in etiquette.¡± She smiled sweetly as she spoke, her expression as lovely and amicable as the tone of her voice. ¡°My runecloak does not allow for its parts to detach in such a manner.¡±


    ¡°Then I suppose it cannot be helped,¡± he said, with a smile of his own.


    ¡°Wait, wait! What the heck? How come you guys are talking like nothing just happened?¡± asked a flabbergasted Sylvia. ¡°I thought for sure that it was gonna turn into a full blown fight.¡± The vixen¡¯s question earned her a confused look from the lord and a head tilt from the lady. ¡°Oh, come on! Stop looking at me like that! You two are the ones being weird, not me!¡±


    ¡°This is normal,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°That can¡¯t be right!¡±


    ¡°Well it is.¡±


    ¡°You literally ran up to him and tried to take off his head!!¡± Sylvia got up on her hind legs and acted out a flying kick. ¡°That isn¡¯t normal!¡±


    ¡°Having visited a number of foreign lands now, I see easily the reason for your lack of understanding.¡± The fox¡¯s disbelief prompted an explanation from the marquis. ¡°In the Cadrian court, those that wish to be acknowledged as warriors often challenge renowned fighters to prove themselves worthy of greater respect and fair terms of negotiation.¡±


    ¡°Wait so you guys pick fights with each other because it¡¯s good manners?¡± Sylvia blinked, thrice. ¡°No wonder Lia thinks you guys are all barbarians¡­¡±


    ¡°Paunseans are the barbaric ones,¡± said Claire. ¡°Their sense of etiquette is flawed. Have you seen how she holds her utensils?¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s that got to do with anything!? She¡¯s just holding stuff weird! You¡¯re literally kicking someone in the face!¡± shouted Sylvia. ¡°At that point, I don¡¯t think you can even call it etiquette! That¡¯s like saying a cat is a dog.¡±


    ¡°The system disagrees. And cats that are dogs are just foxes.¡±


    ¡°No they aren¡¯t!¡± The fox stopped shortly after making the objection to put a paw on her chin. ¡°Actually¡­ I think you might be onto something¡­¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have said it if I wasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Wait, now I¡¯m letting you get me sidetracked! Kicking isn¡¯t etiquette!¡±


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    ¡°It is. Now shush.¡± Sighing, Claire turned back to the manor¡¯s lord and put on her best sad frown. ¡°I am terribly sorry, Lord Pollux. It appears that I have failed to instruct my companion on the terms of Cadrian mannerisms. I shall endeavour to correct this error by our next encounter.¡±


    ¡°Worry not, Lady Augustus. There is no need. You have transformed, in a few scant months, from a wallflower with little purpose, to a full fledged combatant. You have become a respectable warrior and truly your father¡¯s daughter. It only stands to reason that an individual in such a position requires associates of a less refined background.¡±


    Claire nodded, regally, and pressed a hand to her chest. ¡°Thank you, Lord Pollux. It is a pleasure to learn that my efforts were not in vain.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I was definitely right. You guys are weird." The fox¡¯s mutter was, of course, completely ignored.


    Though not as troubled as her vulpine companion, Claire found herself fighting back the urge to frown. She was supposed to have come to terms with her identity.


    ¡°Please, tell me of your adventures, Lady Augustus,¡± said the marquis. ¡°As I stated earlier, I wish to know the details of your escape from the library. If it can be reproduced, then we may well have discovered an incredible source of power, and a method by which we may train our lesser soldiers.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately the details are strictly confidential on account of an oath I swore to a celestial,¡± said Claire, with a smile. ¡°But I advise that you pay it a visit. It will certainly be worth your time.¡±


    ¡°I am bold and foolish, but I do not seek ruination,¡± the old gentleman laughed. ¡°Very well. If you cannot inform me of the specifics, I will move onto another order of business.¡±


    The lyrkress nodded.


    ¡°To address what I believe to be your primary concern, I have yet to report your presence to your father,¡± he said with a smirk. ¡°Though as it stands, I am certain that he would be delighted to learn of your current location and the strength that you have acquired. Perhaps, he will even reinstate you as his heir.¡±


    ¡°Do not beat around the bush, Lord Pollux.¡±


    ¡°Apologies,¡± he said with an even wider smirk. ¡°I have only one condition. Provide me with your hand in marriage. Do not worry, I shall see that you are treated well and taught the true meaning of plea¡ª¡±


    ¡°Durham was once known as House Augustus¡¯ perverted lapdog.¡± To the relief of the fox sitting beside her, Claire cut the centaur off with an innocent smile. ¡°Would you like to learn how he was cured?¡± She raised a finger into the air and formed with her ice magic a large screw covered in sharpened points, thick as a finger and remarkably phallic in length. Slowly, ominously, the magical object was rotated, and all its jagged edges put on display.


    ¡°I will have to refrain, thank you,¡± said the marquis, with a laugh. ¡°But my silence will still have to come with a price. I would not mind accepting that catgirl companion of yours as a concubine instead.¡±


    Raising another finger, she crafted a small mallet; a hammer with one end for smashing and the other for prying out a screw of a very specific size. ¡°The tale begins quite simply. Though bound by duty, Durham was unable to resist the urge of playing the part of a peeping tom. And it was for that reason that I procured one of my father¡¯s magic ropes and bound him to one of the manor¡¯s pillars.¡±


    Timaois sighed. ¡°Fine. How about the fox? I¡¯ll settle for her as well. I was never one for animals, but a hole is a hole.¡±


    ¡°Hey! That¡¯s rude! I¡¯m not an animal! And I¡¯m definitely not letting you anywhere near me!¡±


    ¡°Oh, Lord Pollux. You have always been such a joker,¡± said Claire, with a beaming smile. ¡°I have no doubts that your wife would be delighted to hear your jests repeated to her, especially after you promised her that, for the duration of her tenure, it would only be she whose hand you took.¡±


    A bead of sweat dripped down his brow as he spoke. ¡°Unfortunately, my fair lady, her love for me burns brightly enough to dull her sense of humour.¡±


    The lady of House Pollux was the product of the marquis¡¯ third marriage. That was not to say that the first two had ended in failure. Both were fruitful, loving relationships, their ends driven primarily by the length of the marquis¡¯ life. He was even older than her thousand-year-old father, and neither of his first two brides had extended their chronometers with ascension. His third partner, however, was a military woman with no fewer kills under her belt than the flagbearer himself. They had been married for over two centuries, during which she had tightened the vice she held around his loins. Still, she was unable to control him entirely. It was known to many that he had lovers in various places, but few dared to publicly announce themselves the recipient of his affections for fear of death by jealous cuckquean.


    ¡°Not to worry,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°Humour is the sort of sense that develops with continued exposure.¡±


    ¡°You are a dirty fighter, Claire Augustus.¡± The marquis frowned. ¡°I suppose I will have to settle for a lesser condition for the time being.¡±


    The halfbreed said nothing. It was not the first time an old centaur would treat her as an object of desire, nor would it be the last. Such was the fate of a lady with long, shapely ears, a fate she had tolerated for as long as she could remember.


    ¡°I propose this. I will refrain from speaking to your father of your presence under the condition that you aid in the capture of Nymphetel Blackroot.¡± Timaois continued speaking with his second mind, even following the threat. ¡°You are not to deliver punishment for her treason yourself, but rather to ensure that she is arrested by or handed to either myself or one of my men while no unaffiliated witnesses are present.¡±


    ¡°I am not that much of a fool, Lord Pollux.¡± Claire puffed up her cheeks and pouted. ¡°Another clause is required. You may not write him any letters or reports that allude to or explicitly state my presence until he learns of it through another means.¡±


    ¡°Your terms are acceptable.¡± Timaois gestured to one of the maids standing by in the room¡¯s far corner, who brought him a scroll, an inkwell, and a quill.


    His hands moving slowly, he carefully drafted the document before having the servant deliver the materials across the table. After checking the terms listed, and confirming that she was not being deceived, she inscribed her signature and confirmed her participation.


    The maid moved to the center of the room following the document¡¯s receipt, held the scroll in front of her, and crafted a magical formation beneath her feet. ¡°In Flitzgarde¡¯s name, I invoke this contract and place a geas upon both of its members, to be removed only upon the completion of their respective conditions.¡±


    The parchment disintegrated, reforming itself as a pair of bright yellow lights. The glowing spheres shot towards the agreement¡¯s signatories and embedded themselves into the backs of their left hands, where they transformed into a pair of mirrored symbols that soon faded away.


    Log Entry 6824


    You have been marked by Flitzegarde, goddess of order, for the swearing of an oath.


    Each represented one of the pact¡¯s underwriters; those that successfully fulfilled their oaths would have their symbols turn blue, while violators would be marked in red. Either party could check the status of the other with an invocation of the goddess¡¯ name.


    ¡°It is done,¡± said the marquis. ¡°Now let us both be off on our ways, for there are many preparations to make, and very little time to see them through.¡±


    ¡°I concur. I wish you luck in battle, Lord Pollux.¡±


    ¡°And I to you, Lady Augustus.¡±


    Both parties still smiling, they exited the room and went their separate ways.

 Chapter 195 - Skyreach Spire VII

    Chapter 195 - Skyreach Spire VII


    Retiring to her room, Claire closed her eyes and laid in her bed with her face buried in her pillow. Her body was heavy and her motivation completely drained. Smiling was exhausting, and she wanted nothing more but to spend the rest of her life with her face hidden away. Even veiled, it had gotten her into an unnecessary, fruitless clash.


    When she next rose, it was to a violent jostling. The sun was gone; the fluffy clouds and violent galewinds saw the light goddess¡¯ radiance completely obscured. Within the swirling gloom, it rained heavily; cold, wet drops mixed with chunks of hail, falling every which way as the sky thundered with brilliant flashes of electricity. They slammed into the ship on occasion, but the carrier¡¯s protective barrier saw them repelled. Tzaarkus¡¯ wrath was warded off just as easily as the monsters and stray objects caught in the storm.


    ¡°Good morning, sleepyhead.¡±


    A pair of arms grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back into her bed as she tried to escape the sheets. Sylvia, who was in her humanoid form, snuggled up to the other halfbreed and nuzzled her cheeks against her back.


    ¡°What are you doing in my bed?¡± Pushing the other girl¡¯s face away with her tail, Claire sat up again and woke her arms with a big, overhead stretch.


    ¡°Huh? What do you mean? This is my bed too.¡± Sylvia raised only one of her ears as she looked at the moose as would a puzzled dog. ¡°We¡¯ve been sharing for like weeks!¡±


    Claire paused for a moment before shaking her head. ¡°But you were a fox. It isn¡¯t the same.¡±


    ¡°Not this again¡­¡± Sylvia sighed. ¡°You know what? Whatever! I don¡¯t care if you think it¡¯s weird! It¡¯s always felt the same for me, person or fox.¡± She stuck out her tongue before diving into the sheets and rolling around. ¡°And plus, it¡¯s super obvious that both of us use it anyway. It smells as much like you as it does like me.¡±


    Claire twisted her lips into a frown. ¡°Don¡¯t smell it. That¡¯s perverted.¡±


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t! Foxes smell things. It¡¯s just what we do!¡± Sylvia wrapped her arms around Claire¡¯s waist from behind. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You don¡¯t smell weird. Actually, you smell really good.¡±


    ¡°Stop smelling me.¡±


    ¡°Not until I figure out why you smell so good.¡±


    The horse frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t sweat. Nor do I need to use the bathroom.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ maybe, but I don¡¯t really think that¡¯s it,¡± said Sylvia, as she buried her face into the half-snake¡¯s neck.


    Ears twitching, Claire grabbed the fairy by the face, but though she had been intent on removing her at first, the moose soon breathed a sigh and leaned back into her embrace. ¡°How do I smell anyway?¡±


    ¡°Uhm¡­ like a Claire?¡± Sylvia tilted her head. ¡°It¡¯s kinda hard to explain, but you smell like you and it¡¯s nice.¡±


    ¡°This is why foxes aren¡¯t people,¡± muttered the lyrkress. She flicked her tongue through the air, but failed to pick up anything of note.


    After spending a few moments with her eyes closed and her focus on the various smells in her surroundings, she changed out of ner negligee, stood up, and walked out onto the veranda with the touchy-feely fox still attached to her back. While the sky was dark, the front yard was illuminated by artificial lights, present to guide the ship¡¯s passengers to the lunch buffet. Service appeared to be slowing down; few guests were still eating and the number of servants in attendance had dwindled, likely to enjoy their own midday meals.


    ¡°Where are all the others?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Boris is napping in the garden, and I think Lia¡¯s come to check on you a few times, but I dunno where she is now.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Claire leaned over the railing and looked down into the garden, briefly searching for familiar faces before suddenly shrinking to half her previous height. Once small enough, she slipped out of the fox¡¯s grasp by pulling herself to the ground and dashed between her legs.


    She made it halfway across the room before she was tackled. ¡°Gotcha!¡± said Sylvia, with a giggle. ¡°Wow! You¡¯re so tiny and cute! When did you learn to shrink?¡± She pressed her cheeks against Claire¡¯s, nuzzling them as her tail wagged with wild abandon.


    ¡°When I ascended.¡±


    ¡°You should¡¯ve shown me earlier,¡± complained the vixen. ¡°Wait! This means we can be backwards now!¡± Holding the tiny moose to her chest, the half-fairy stood up and hoisted her off the floor.


    ¡°Let go.¡±


    Claire tried to struggle, but to no avail. The fox had locked her arms in place, her legs were too stubby to prove useful, and her tail was simply missing, gone from her tiniest form. Her desperate attempts at resistance amounted to little more than prodding Sylvia in the chin with her ears.


    ¡°Don¡¯t wanna.¡± The fox tightened her grip. ¡°You do this to me all the time, and I¡¯ve always wanted a chance to do it back.¡±


    After trying one last time to move Sylvia¡¯s arms with her cheeks, the lyrkress breathed another sigh and, once again, leaned back into the fox¡¯s embrace. ¡°Fine. But just for a bit.¡±


    ¡°Yes! Thanks Claire, you¡¯re the best.¡± A smile stretching from ear to ear, the oversized fairy twirled around the room with the tiny lyrkress in tow. She continued until she got bored and plopped herself down in the bed, humming a tune as she held the child-like abyssal horror captive in her lap.


    ¡°Are you done yet?¡± asked Claire, as the second song came to an end.


    ¡°Just five more minutes!¡±


    Claire struggled against the other girl¡¯s grip. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on!¡±


    ¡°There are people coming.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just five more minutes!¡±


    Twisting her lips into a pout, the tiny scalewarden opened one of the eyes hidden by her hair and paralyzed her captor, just long enough to break free.


    ¡°Woah, what the heck was that!?¡± Sylvia sprang from her seat right as Claire grew back to her usual height.


    ¡°Nothing.¡± The longmoose lightly tugged on the fox¡¯s cheeks, got up, and walked across the room. Pressing her hand against the door, she swung it open just before the visitor had a chance to knock. ¡°Lia.¡±


    ¡°O-oh uh, hey Claire.¡± Smiling awkwardly, the Paunsean moved her hand away from the knocker and hid it behind her back. ¡°Good morning.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t morning anymore. Stupid cat.¡±


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    The light forehead flick that followed left the victim giggling. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re feeling better.¡±


    ¡°I was never feeling bad. Just tired. I didn¡¯t get much sleep last night,¡± she invited the cat inside and closed the door behind her before stomping on her shadow. ¡°And you. Stop trying to be sneaky.¡±


    Her head tilted, Natalya spun around to find Arciel emerging from the ground behind her, lips dressed in a mischievous smile.


    ¡°What a shame. I was hoping to catch you off guard.¡±


    ¡°Hope harder.¡±


    ¡°Oh, hey everyone!¡± Sylvia turned back into a fox as she waved. ¡°Why are you all here? Is something happening?¡±


    ¡°Sir Pollux has announced that we shall soon be arriving,¡± said the vampire squid. ¡°Lia and I arrived at the conclusion that it was time for us to gather.¡±


    ¡°I was going to wake you up if you were still asleep,¡± said Natalya. ¡°You were going to miss the storm breaking if you slept any longer.¡±


    ¡°Wait, the storm¡¯s gonna break?¡± Scampering to her feet, Sylvia dashed out onto the veranda and climbed up onto the railing. Her tail wagged with such speed and force that she hovered into the air.


    ¡°Calm down,¡± said Claire, as she led the others out onto the balcony.


    ¡°I can¡¯t! The whole reason I left home in the first place was so I could see stuff like this!¡±


    ¡°Flying through it on the ship is boring.¡± The ship-averse moose tugged the fox¡¯s cheeks. ¡°If you really wanted to see it, then you¡¯d just fly through it yourself.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but then it¡¯d just be me doing it by myself! It¡¯s more fun with more peop¡ª¡± The fox stopped mid-sentence and looked towards her mount. ¡°Hey Claire.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not doing it.¡±


    ¡°Pretty please? For me?¡± The dog put on her best puppy dog eyes and pressed her front paws together. ¡°We can take the whole party and get a head start on everyone else! And plus, it¡¯s what we were always planning in the first place!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d really rather we didn¡¯t!¡± interjected Natalya. ¡°Can we please just stay on the ship, where the ground is nice and firm?¡±


    ¡°Oh, shut up Lia! Last night, you were literally drea¡ª¡±


    ¡°Okay, fine! But not another word out of you! I swear to Tzaarkus, Sylvia! You start telling people my secrets every time I turn my back on you! Can you please at least ask me first!? Please!?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no point! Claire¡¯s just gonna overhear, even if I whisper.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a matter of principle. It feels like you just like embarrassing me, I swear!¡±


    ¡°I suspect that the solution you are discussing is not one to which I have been made privy,¡± said Arciel, while the cat chided the fox on matters of privacy. ¡°I am unable to lurk within your shadow in the midst of a storm, and if I recall, your other form had enough room to seat only one.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡± Claire placed both hands on the railing, ¡°Call your knight. Meet us on the landing platform,¡± and hoisted herself over it. Her skirt fluttering in the air, she landed in the garden before turning around and gesturing for the others to follow.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be there in a second! I need to run a few last minute checks!¡± Natalya ran back into the room as she pulled out her notebook and flipped through it, her watch held in her other hand.


    With Sylvia floating after Claire, Arciel was once again left out of the loop, her questions unanswered. Still, she did as instructed; the princess called for Matthais with a loud whistle, and leapt after the lyrkress. She hopped from shadow to shadow, melding with the darkness as she made her way across the thirty-acre plot.


    Their group was not the only one to have gathered near the landing platform. There were a number of mercenaries and adventurers hanging around the exit, but none were as foolish as the lyrkress; they stayed far away, so that they would not have to endure the storm. She alone stood outside the barriers, as if completely oblivious to the cold and unconcerned with the razor winds that nipped at her clothes.


    ¡°Where¡¯s your knight?¡± The scalewarden spoke as Arciel finally caught up. Though it was the same volume as usual, her voice was clear, easily heard through the roaring storm.


    ¡°He shall be arriving shortly.¡± Arciel held down her hat as she allowed her head to rise from within the shadows. Even with a hand pressing it against her head, the leather triangle was nearly blown away. The violent winds tore it from her grasp and smashed it into the bubble that formed around her. The magical sphere did nothing to filter the sound; she could still hear the typhoon roaring in the background, but no longer did she feel it on her skin. ¡°Do you truly believe this to be the best option?¡±


    ¡°Yes. We¡¯ll need a head start if we want to stay ahead of Pollux and his men.¡±


    ¡°How is it that you intend to break through the storm?¡± The witch looked around the platform and noted a distinct lack of airships. ¡°I have heard rumours of your ability to fly, but I doubt that such a venture shall prove worth our time should you exhaust yourself ferrying us back and forth.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Claire can get really big so you don¡¯t need to worry. And plus! I doubt she¡¯d get worn out anyway,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t even be that many trips.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯d be more boring than exhausting,¡± admitted the lyrkress.


    ¡°Is she capable of turning into something along the lines of a giant?¡±


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ not exactly? I think it¡¯d be faster for her to show you.¡±


    ¡°Not here. The guards are still watching,¡± said Claire. ¡°We¡¯ll jump off first and board after.¡±


    ¡°I am not exactly fond of this idea of yours,¡± said Arciel, ¡°but I suppose you would have already seen me slain if that was your goal.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. Now stop asking questions.¡± The lyrkress crossed her arms and looked back towards the manor, where Natalya was running down the path with a large metal lizard in tow.


    ¡°Sorry we¡¯re late!¡± The cat handed Boris to her owner with a smile. ¡°I realised that we forgot Boris when I was checking all my things.¡±


    ¡°I could have called him when we needed him.¡± Claire set the lizard on the floor. ¡°Is that everyone?¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t Arciel have an escort?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s already here,¡± said Claire. The empty spot she stared at shimmered to reveal a tiny knight. He was dressed in full plate, a plume sprouting from his helmet and a mantle draped around his shoulders. Like Natalya and Arciel, he was already in a bubble, just large enough to fit his body.


    ¡°Afternoon.¡± The mantis replied with a curt nod, his eyes glinting from beneath his helmet.


    ¡°O-oh, hello,¡± said the cat. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t see you there.¡±


    ¡°Most shouldn¡¯t,¡± grunted the insectoid. ¡°My cloak¡¯s got an invisibility effect.¡± Though his words were directed towards Natalya, his eyes were fixed on Claire. His scythes were itching for a challenge, but a glare from his master cut him short.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Lifting Sylvia in her arms, Claire walked right off the edge of the platform and fell into the sky. Her frame vanished almost immediately, obscured by the dark clouds below. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Still, her voice was heard. ¡°Hurry up.¡±


    Boris obeyed the command and dove into the aether with a running start. He even struck a bit of a pose as he fell and left a distinctively lizard-shaped mark in the sea of clouds. The remaining skydivers-to-be, however, were not as enthused. The three took a moment to look at each other hesitantly. Arciel and her escort had turned to Natalya in hopes of some words of reassurance, while the catgirl looked for the others to jump first, as a means to confirm the venture¡¯s safety. And it was precisely during their uneasy staring contest that the three cowards were ripped from their places. The man turned stone faced, while the girls screamed as magical vectors yoinked them off their feet and sent them flying into the storm.


    ¡°Shut up already. It¡¯s not a big deal.¡± Claire grumbled under her breath as she caught all three victims in her giant claws and pulled them towards her chest.


    ¡°At least give us a warning first!¡± shouted Natalya.


    While the feline recognized the scalewarden¡¯s true form, the others were not as well versed. Arciel pulled a staff out of her shadow and started casting while the knight readied his scythes. Both their attacks, however, were immediately snuffed out. Their bubbles conformed to the shape of their bodies and locked them in place.


    ¡°Geez, guys! Calm down,¡± said Sylvia, from atop the qilin¡¯s head. Boris was sitting beside her, already dozing off. ¡°I know Claire looks kinda freaky but that doesn¡¯t mean you should stop being nice!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t look freaky,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°I¡¯m majestic, graceful, and beautiful enough to be divine.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh, sure.¡± The fox breathed a sigh. ¡°Anyway! Get them in their seats so we can go!¡±


    ¡°I am.¡± Claire placed Natalya onto her head with a vector, while raising the other two up to eye-level. ¡°Hands off the ears. No touching my legs or tail either.¡± And after a brief word of warning, set them behind the catgirl desperately hanging onto her neck.


    She began accelerating without waiting for anyone to grab ahold of her mane, dashing through the sky and cutting through the wind.


    ¡°Wait! Claire!? At least slow down a bit!¡± Lia¡¯s screams were, of course, readily ignored, as Claire did her utmost to further boost her speed.

 Chapter 196 - Skyreach Spire VIII

    Chapter 196 - Skyreach Spire VIII


    Claire slowed down as the clouds began to part, revealing not a dark fortress, but a heavenly tower perfectly lit by the sunbeams that pierced the fluffy marshmallows above. It was made of white and orange brick, stacked high as the eye could see. Large windows were carved into the masonry of every level, but gazing inside of them was impossible. Only when seen out of the corner of one¡¯s eye did they appear as anything but walls.


    ¡°Woah¡­ this thing¡¯s huge. It¡¯s gotta be at least twenty times bigger than Al¡¯s dungeon.¡± Standing up on her hind legs, the fox looked around the skyscape with her eyes sparkling. She would venture from the lyrkress¡¯ head on occasion, running up and down the length of her body to get closer looks at the various pieces that caught her attention. But while she was nonchalantly admiring the scenery, her companions remained on high alert.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± said Claire. ¡°But I hope it isn¡¯t. It¡¯ll take too much time to explore.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! Slowly combing through all the details is the best part!¡±


    ¡°Maybe the most boring, but definitely not the best.¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t think this is the time for this,¡± said Natalya. She had unsteadily risen to her feet with her rapier drawn, ready to intercept the monsters that dotted the sky. Some joined the whirling clouds in spiralling around the perimeter, while others flooded the tower¡¯s airspace. There were so many of them that they could not be counted, but the beasts did not dominate their sightlines; they were completely crowded out by a veritable garden of plantlife. There were flowers, grasses and trees, their roots reaching into the sky, as if to grab hold of the swirling clouds.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Lia,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°These guys are pushovers. I¡¯m not really sure why they¡¯re even attacking us.¡±


    ¡°I believe that most dungeon monsters tend to prefer battle over flight,¡± said Arciel. ¡°They are not exactly known for their intelligence.¡±


    ¡°Hey! That¡¯s rude!¡± said Sylvia.


    Though they competed for airspace, the flora and fauna were one in their function. Every living thing that the lyrkress passed made an attempt to attack her. Leaves, roots, fins, and spells all lashed out, but most were outrun, and the few she could not evade were repelled by her scales.


    To conserve her energy, Claire dispatched the first few groups with her eyes. The powerful magic built into her beholders froze them solid and dropped them out of the sky, but even with the others¡¯ attacks thrown into the mix, the horde refused to shrink. It was not an increase in monster density that drove the change, but rather the unrelenting nature of their assailants. Every single individual she neared would continue to give chase, regardless of how far they trailed behind.


    ¡°Apologies. I did not mean to insult your lizard friend,¡± replied the vampire, her eyes on Boris.


    It did not take long for the qiligon to find herself sick of the endlessly growing horde. With an annoyed flick of the tail, she spun around and flexed her jaws. Her chest swelled to three times its usual size. Like an arrow nocked against the string of a bow, her breath was ready to be unleashed; the essence of winter would spread through the sky and freeze everything, including the warship, as soon as she exhaled. She didn¡¯t think that Pollux would fall, but at the very least, it would cause a great inconvenience and completely destroy his reputation. But as the lyrkress recalled the acquaintance onboard, she found her rage subdued. Spinning back around, she launched the magical attack forward instead. The monsters it hit were reduced first to icicles, and then to frozen dust.


    When she looked over her logs, she found that Sylvia was right. The horde was made up of weaklings; most hung around the level 150 range and provided only the tiniest sliver of experience.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking about Boris! Everyone already knows that he¡¯s kinda dumb! I was talking about me!¡±


    Arciel pulled a fan out of her sleeve and used it to hide her lips as she stared at the fox with her eyes open. ¡°You come from a dungeon? Does that mean there are more of you?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ kinda? There are lots of talking foxes, if that¡¯s what you were asking, but I dunno if there¡¯s any more of me. Everyone else just spends all day napping.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s hardly any different from what you do,¡± said Claire, as she kicked a magic eagle.


    ¡°Wow, what the heck!?¡± cried the fox. ¡°Everyone¡¯s being rude today, I swear!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Clawing another monster to death, she twisted past a large floating tree and arrived at the tower¡¯s base. A careful look, however, sent the annoyed lyrkress skyborne again. There were no doors, only a sign stating that the entrance was on the roof.


    ¡°Yes you do! You¡¯re just poking fun at me because you feel like being mean.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what you get for being so loose-lipped,¡± muttered the cat.


    ¡°Not you too, Lia! I thought you were over that already,¡± complained Sylvia. ¡°Claire¡¯s supposed to be the only one petty enough to hold grudges.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not petty.¡± The claim earned her a total of five confused stares; even Boris joined in with a befuddled drop of the jaw. ¡°What? I¡¯m not.¡± Still, she stood firm and repeated the claim with her voice unfaltering.


    ¡°Then how come you kept calling me a dog!?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Ignoring the urge to smile, she crested the tower and landed atop its summit, transforming as soon as her feet hit the ground. Her vectors took care of her riders; Sylvia aside, each was removed in turn and placed atop the flattened roof. Though her humanoid form was the most familiar, Claire defaulted to her lyrkrian one instead. The four-legged frame was simply better suited for combat; her forelimbs were covered in scales and tipped with sharp talons, while a thin but robust coat of fur kept her lower half guarded.


    Joining Claire in transformation was the building that they had landed on. A large dome, likely made of glass, appeared overhead and trapped them inside, while the bricks in front of their feet turned yellow, forming a path that led to a distant door. Several dozen monsters sprung out of it as it emerged, but they did not conduct themselves as would the usual combatants. The bowtie-wearing owls pressed their wings to their chests and bowed as a red carpet rolled out from within.


    ¡°How strange. It appears that the dungeon is welcoming us.¡± Arciel placed a hand on her hat as she took the lead and followed the path. The grip she had on her staff was tightened as she drew near the monsters, just in case they broke formation and attacked.


    Lia was just as cautious. She advanced only a little at a time, keeping her eyes peeled and her hands near her waist. Claire and Matthais, on the other hand, took bold steps. Both had holstered their weapons, and the latter was even shooting belligerent glances, as if daring the monsters to attack.


    Despite his blatant taunting, they all stood their ground, even after the group stepped inside the entryway and descended the narrow stone steps.


    Log Entry 6879


    You have entered the dungeon known as Skyreach Spire, vessel of primordial flame. It cannot be determined if any of the monsters in this dungeon outclass you.


    It was clear even from their initial impressions that the tower¡¯s interior was many times larger than its vessel implied. The first floor was a massive craggy mountainscape, the individual peaks as tall as some of the Langgbjerns. From atop the peak that they had entered, they saw a realm every bit as detailed as Alfred¡¯s. All of the monsters that inhabited the dungeon¡¯s exterior were present and accounted for, but they were no longer alone. Trolls, feral giants, and other ground dwelling species could be seen lumbering around the valleys, trodding through fields of barbed wildflowers¡ªexactly as they had been briefed.


    ¡°Holy crap,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°This place might be even bigger than Sky Lagoon.¡±


    ¡°Getting to the next floor is supposed to take two hours on horseback,¡± said Natalya, as she skimmed through the pamphlet. ¡°It¡¯s in one of the valleys on the other side of the mountain range.¡±


    ¡°Hours on horseback? What a bizarre method of measuring distance,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Should they not be representing it in turberlengths instead?¡±


    A turberlength, or 11376 meters to be precise, was a standard unit of measure, expressed as three quarters of the distance that an average turberus could cover before it needed to rest. The leeway built into the measurement was present primarily as a means of ensuring that most would reach their destinations even if their draft animals were subpar.


    ¡°I bet it¡¯s ¡®cause they¡¯re Cadrians,¡± said the knight.


    ¡°It is,¡± confirmed Claire. ¡°Everyone knows how far a horse can run.¡±


    ¡°How pretentious. There is no reason not to use the standard unit of measure.¡± Arciel frowned as she crafted a spear of blood and obliterated the troll charging up the side of the mountain. ¡°Now, we may not have any horses or turberi, but I expect that we should have no trouble covering the distance in record time.¡± She glanced at Claire, who only rolled her eyes.


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    ¡°I refuse. I¡¯m not a mount.¡±


    ¡°Yes you are!¡± said Sylvia, from her seat atop the lyrkress¡¯ head.


    ¡°Wrong,¡± said the begrudgingly domesticated moose.


    ¡°Then how do you explain me sitting on your head and getting places?¡±


    ¡°Easily. You¡¯re a hat.¡±


    ¡°Hat!? I¡¯m not a hat!¡±


    Ignoring the beret¡¯s protests, Claire spread her wings and leapt off the mountain. The three following behind her were dragged along with her vectors, forced to participate in her journey through the sky. Still not accustomed to flight, Natalya kicked and screamed, but the others allowed themselves to be carted away.


    The first floor certainly made for a scenic sight, but the monsters were weak and there was no value in a leisurely hike when time was of the essence. Floors two through four were similar, not only in terms of power level, but appearance and layout as well. The mountain range continued even as they descended the steps, albeit with lower peaks and an increase in greenery and vegetation.


    It was only on the fifth floor, after a mind-numbing lull, that they finally encountered any danger. The monsters looked identical to those on the previous floors, but their levels were twice as high. Even those that were ascended used mimicry to disguise themselves as weaker variants. Still, the party mowed them down; the pack of thirty that assaulted them at the floor¡¯s entrance was far too frail to prove triumphant, even after catching them off guard.


    ¡°I¡¯m getting kinda bored. How come all the floors are the same?¡± Sylvia, who had nearly fallen asleep on two different occasions, spoke with a groan as she watched an ostrich-shaped cow drown in a bubble of blood.


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t they be?¡± muttered Claire.


    ¡°They¡¯re not exactly the same,¡± said Natalya, with an awkward smile.


    ¡°Yeah, but they basically are!¡± she grumbled. ¡°What¡¯s a bit less rock and a bit more grass supposed to mean when there¡¯s this much space!?¡±


    ¡°That is how most dungeons are configured,¡± said Arciel. ¡°The gods do not have the time to carefully rearrange every single detail.¡±


    ¡°Yes they do!¡± huffed Sylvia. ¡°Al, errr, a celestial I know, said that most of them just waste their time lazing around.¡±


    ¡°I highly doubt that,¡± said Arciel. ¡°There certainly may be some lazy gods, but most remain rather active. Griselda, for one, fulfils her duty night after night by moving across the sky and basking the world in her light.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s not like that actually takes her all that much effort, right?¡± asked the fox. ¡°I bet it¡¯s easy as pie for her, since she¡¯s a goddess and stuff.¡±


    ¡°I suppose not¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah, exactly! And she probably isn¡¯t doing it on purpose either. I¡¯m pretty sure she kinda just crosses the sky whenever she feels like it, and that¡¯s why sometimes, the moon randomly goes backwards or shows up in the middle of the day.¡±


    ¡°T-that is absolutely false!¡± shouted the indignant rock believer. ¡°She does not act without reason. T-there is simply a greater purpose that we lack the divinity to understand.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh¡­¡±


    The explanation reeked of such hogwash that even the mostly deceased cow reached to plug its nose.


    ¡°Gods and goddesses aside,¡± said Natalya. ¡°We¡¯ve just about exhausted all of our intel. The valley up ahead is the last place that¡¯s charted.¡±


    Having decided to follow the provisioned map, after getting lost in the sky on the second floor, the party was in the midst of navigating a particularly narrow gorge. They walked along the side of a fast-running river with greenery growing from all around it, carefully placing their feet so they would not fall into the water. The vegetation was more varied than it had been on the first floor, but its hostility remained ever constant. Every plant they passed attempted to snap at them, whether with vines, flowers, or roots, and even the river itself was apparently hostile. According to the notes left by the previous explorers, any that entered it would never be seen again. It was the sort of account that would be readily dismissed in the average scenario, but the frontrunners had parties that included many powerful swimmers. Fishmen and scyphs had all found themselves falling victim to whatever lay beneath the dark, murky waves.


    The valley that Natalya described was out of sight with all the twisting stones in their way, but according to the map, it was no different from any of the other meadows they had crossed. It had only one purpose, to function as an arena for some sort of combat-related challenge. Upon its completion, a staircase would appear at the end of the field and offer them entry to the next floor, as had been the case for every floor that came before it.


    ¡°There¡¯s probably something there,¡± said Claire. ¡°Something strong enough to wipe out a group of elites.¡±


    ¡°Just what I¡¯ve been hoping for.¡± The mantis¡¯ jaws clicked as he stepped forward, antennae raised and blades primed. ¡°Permission to scout ahead?¡±


    Arciel sighed. ¡°Granted.¡±


    ¡°Appreciated.¡± Matthais bowed before sprinting off at top speed, leaping from one side of the gorge to the other as he ran along the walls.


    Of the four fighters, the mantis was by far the most belligerent, basking in the thrill at every given opportunity. The few times he spoke, he claimed that he only sought stronger foes, but in truth, the knight relished battles against weaklings as well. Imposing restrictions on himself, he refused to dodge until the very last moment, just to raise the stakes. Even against a crowd, his approach remained identical. Efficiency was a concept completely lost on him; despite spending the most time in battle, his headcount was by far the lowest.


    That was why no one minded him wandering ahead. He was already the one slowing the group down, and they were sure to reconvene once he lost himself in combat for the thousandth time.


    Following in his wake, they found dead monsters all along the path. Ostriches with their bovine heads removed, cattle with their wings clipped, even giants with their hearts and armour pierced right through. Some, the dungeon was already disintegrating, while others remained with their pelts still perfectly intact.


    ¡°Leave them alone.¡± Claire grabbed Natalya by the head and forcefully turned her eyes away from one such pile. ¡°We¡¯ll find better parts later.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t even thinking about it!¡±


    ¡°Liar. And the shine in your eyes changes, whenever money is involved.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± asked the cat, with a blink.


    ¡°Mhm! They always start sparkling and stuff,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And I dunno if you¡¯ve noticed but you get kinda depressed whenever you buy expensive stuff.¡±


    Lia twitched. ¡°Why does it sound like you¡¯re just pulling my tail?¡±


    ¡°Because someone is about to.¡± Claire pointed towards Arciel, who had taken to examining the feline¡¯s rear appendage.


    ¡°H-huh!?¡± The Paunsean knight spun around and covered the fluffy brush¡¯s base with her hands. ¡°W-what are you doing?¡±


    ¡°I do apologize. I was fascinated by the way it moved when you started examining those corpses.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t moving it.¡± Lia¡¯s gaze turned skeptical as she took half a step back. But when she turned to the crowd for support, she found it devoid of sympathy. Claire was wearing her usual blank stare, while Sylvia was laughing, her paws clutching her stomach.


    ¡°That¡¯s another thing you do, when you think about money,¡± said Claire. ¡°You make your tail ripple.¡±


    ¡°No I don¡¯t,¡± said the cat, with a shake of the head. She was confident, but those around her failed to rise up in support, a theme that only repeated throughout the hour they spent traversing the gorge.


    The corpse trail began drying out as they closed in on the meadow, with the true avians the only ones to remain. The few birds that hung around the region stayed high up in the sky, not moving between the mountain peaks with their less-than-graceful, uddered wings.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Matthais?¡± asked Natalya, as she looked through the grassy plain.


    The rhiar warrior was not the only thing missing. Unlike the rest of the dungeon, which was marked with slashes and heavy footprints, the tranquil meadow featured no signs of battle. The flowers were pristine and untrampled, the ravine slowed and ran gently, and the few bits of exposed dirt were completely unmarked, not even by the local wildlife. It was the exact opposite of the scene that had awaited them at the end of every other floor, where monsters of all shapes and sizes ran rampant and crushed the flora underfoot.


    ¡°Uhm¡­ let¡¯s see¡­¡± Sylvia hummed a rune and pressed it to her nose. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like he made himself invisible again, and his scent kinda just cuts off, so I dunno.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t hear him either,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°It is possible that he is merely avoiding detection. Stealth is a matter with which he has a wealth of experience.¡± Arciel covered her mouth with a fan and whistled, but no response was given. ¡°How strange¡­¡±


    ¡°Then he must¡¯ve been killed.¡± Forging a spear of ice, Claire stepped forward and entered the meadow. Her ears were raised overhead and her eyes were kept peeled for any signs of movement. Contrary to her expectations, none of the plants attacked. There was not a single spray of noxious pollen, nor any attempts to bind her feet in place.


    ¡°I doubt it,¡± said Arciel. She formed a ball of blood in each hand as she followed. ¡°There are no signs of a struggle, and Matthais remains one of the most resilient soldiers I have seen. He has survived far more than he rightfully should.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but we¡¯re dealing with something that¡¯s wiped out one of the Vel¡¯khanese royal guard¡¯s best scout teams,¡± said Natalya. ¡°We need to stay on guard.¡± The cat was the only one to keep her weapon sheathed, opting instead to consult her notes.


    ¡°The royal guard is hardly of note,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Most of the veterans have long resigned.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but the point stands.¡± Lia put her book away and adjusted her glasses.


    ¡°Stop worrying,¡± said Claire. ¡°We¡¯ll deal with it when it happens.¡±


    A strange tingle made its way up her spine as she spoke. And with it, a sense of malaise. She felt like she wanted to vomit as the world around her distorted. It felt like it was spinning, like a globe in the hands of a child.


    Log Entry 7024


    Detect Force Magic has reached level 24.


    Closing her eyes, she was able to resist the forces, to stop herself from falling when the ground silently split open beneath her. She forced herself to attention when she realised that Natalya and Arciel had no such means of resistance. She cast a spell and reeled them back towards her, but a more powerful vector ripped them out of her grasp and pulled them into the rift that lay within the crevice.


    ¡°Oh wow, that¡¯s a really weird looking portal,¡± said Sylvia. It looked like her fur was being tugged around by the assailant, but she was otherwise entirely unaffected. ¡°I wonder where they went.¡±


    ¡°We can check.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that sounds fun! Let¡¯s go!¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    Scratching the fox¡¯s chin, Claire spread her wings and dove straight into the rocky gorge.

 Chapter 197 - Behind the Locked Door

    Chapter 197 - Behind the Locked Door


    When Arciel awoke, she found herself in a confusing predicament. Her arms and legs were bound, her mouth was sealed with an apple, and her head was strapped to a large metal pole. Moving her eyes around the cave revealed a pair of giants sitting in front of a roaring fire. One of the loincloth-laden humanoids was of a bulkier make and sported a hairy beard, while the other almost looked a little more feminine. Almost.


    There was another smaller male walking in and out of the abode. Unlike his father, who was sitting around and picking his nose, the child was unrooting trees with his bare hands and bringing them back inside. His mother ripped the tops off the oaks and willows and threw them into the pan, whilst shoving the trunks and roots into the fire instead.


    All preparations to cook the sea creature alive.


    With no desire to wait for salvation, Arciel quietly slipped away when the clouds opened and basked the cave in the light of the moon. But while she was able to escape the hole in the side of the mountain, she was unable to venture beyond the plateau. The entire mesa was trapped in a large, invisible barrier. She tried pushing it, as well as sneaking in an attack with her shadow, but it refused to bend or break.


    If the filthy field was any indication, she was not the first uninvited guest. Dozens of half-eaten corpses were strewn across the highland plain. Some of the faces, she recognised. Members of the royal guard loyal to the treacherous queen of the whores, men and women she despised to the very end. She was almost grateful to the giants for having dispatched them; she would have done it herself, had she ever found the opportunity.


    Appreciative as she was, however, the blood-drinking squid soon concluded that there was no room for mercy. She had no way of breaking through the barrier; her only choice was to kill its caster. Fortunately, there were more than enough corpses, enough blood, for her to do just that.


    Crimson spears rose from the half-eaten bodies and skewered all three giants. The wounds themselves were shallow, but Arciel cared little for the physical damage dealt. Coming in contact with their vital fluids provided her the opportunity to seize it, to force it to run rampant within their bodies and kill them from within.


    It was a perfect solution, a guaranteed execution, but everything was reset as soon as the third monster bled out. She was right back where she started, tied to a pole with a fruit in her mouth, and the three were back to their previous positions. The only thing missing from the equation was the mana she had spent on their previous executions.


    ___


    A hand against her temple, Lia clenched her teeth, took a deep breath, and scanned her surroundings. She could hardly see. Her eyes were still spinning, and her head refused to unblur the scene laid out before her. Just as obnoxious was the buzzing that filled her ears; she was being assaulted by a constant, high-pitched ringing, loud enough to drown out everything else in her surroundings. Only her nose was functional, but she wished that it wasn¡¯t. The overly sensitive organ sang her a tune of despair and regret, a rhapsody that brought her not to the high heavens, but the very depths of hell, for her nostrils were filled with none other than the putrid stench of death.


    Covering her face with one hand, she closed her eyes and focused her mind on the events leading up to her unpleasant awakening. She knew that something had suddenly affected her body. She had suddenly started spinning in all different directions, moving so quickly and erratically that she blacked out before she could even attempt to fight back. That was why her head hurt as much as it did. The repeated change in direction had mercilessly battered and bruised her brain.


    Vision still blurry, she looked not towards the dreary, purple woods around her, but at the old wooden watch she kept stashed in her pocket. The time was 17:28; less than an hour had passed since she last checked it, but the sky was dark. The afternoon sun had vanished, hidden away behind a moonless night.


    It took her a moment to realise that she was not alone. Someone else lay beside her. A closer look confirmed that it was the newest addition. Arciel was not entirely unconscious. Her eyes were empty but wide open, and she was muttering something under her breath as magic radiated from her body and turned to smog. Every once in a while, she would construct a spear made of shadows and impale something random in their vicinity, but it was hardly consistent or even targeted.


    Natalya grimaced as she threw the other girl over her shoulder and quickly checked over her key items. Her journal and her sword both hung off her waist, and so too did the bag of emergency rations she had prepared in case she was separated from her lyrkrian restaurant.


    The air was the only cause for concern. It was unbreathable; the discoloured smoke was so noxious that it stung the inside of her lungs. Each breath came with a twinge of pain, and looking over her status panel confirmed the physical effects. Her status displayed as weakened, and her health regeneration had nearly been reduced to zero. She would have to be cautious. Any wounds she sustained, whether from her own abilities or otherwise, would effectively be permanent.


    Catching a hint of movement out of the corner of her eye, the cat hopped to her feet and drew her sword. The plants were just as hostile as all the others they had crossed. The trees were slowly creeping towards her, their hungry roots slithering ever closer as they revealed their gnashing teeth. A glowing purple sap, thick as honey and foul as the air, dripped from the maws that lined their trunks. There were corpses inside. Half-decomposed kelpfins and scyphs, their organs more visible than their skin. And yet, though mangled, they still appeared to be alive. Their eyes were empty, just like Arciel¡¯s, and they too were mumbling under their breaths, moving slightly on occasion. Even as maggots thick as fingers burrowed through their bones.


    With a light cough, and a subsequent moment to catch her breath, Natalya dashed towards the nearest treant and struck it with a wide, sweeping slash. The brittle wood crumbled like a cake as the malevolent tree collapsed, screeching in pain as its life abandoned its withered husk. The half-rotted, living corpses inside of its body were destroyed in the same attack. It was the least she could do, to put them out of their misery.


    The tree¡¯s death came alongside a sigh of relief. It was only level 250, certainly a challenge for some, but Natalya was confident that she could fight her way through the forest. And it was with that confidence in mind that she began to move. Every monster in her way, she cut down, but those out of the reach of her blade were ignored. She needed to find the others, or at least a safer location where she could lie low and perhaps wait for Arciel to recover.


    Her eyes scanned the dark forest as she moved. There were traces of battle everywhere, but all of them were old, from weeks, months, or even years past. She could sense none of her companions¡ªor much of anything at all for that matter¡ªbeyond the infinite mass of trees. Still, she stayed on the move, stopping only as she spotted a large clearing. At first, she was relieved to be out of the woods, but her solace was almost immediately deleted, replaced with a gasp of horror.


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    At the center of the clearing sat not a watering hole or other place of rest, but a massive tree with dozens of corpses hanging from its branches. Some were already stripped bare. Had they not been partially digested, their most shameful parts would have been exposed to the noxious purple fog. Others were still partially clothed, their protective armour slowly rotting away with their bodies. But naked or not, all were suspended from the tree¡¯s branches by twisted, wooden ropes. It was not by their necks that the corpses were held in place; the knotted tendrils pierced their skulls with such force that some even had branches that emerged from between their legs.


    Guarding the haunting graveyard was an equally haunting knight. He sat at its base, his body covered from head to toe in thick armour made from the tree¡¯s bark. Though his head was left exposed, his visage was of little help when it came to the identification of his race.


    For one, he had no skin. His head was effectively a collection of black lines, like a children¡¯s scribble brought to life. His eyes were perfectly round¡ªbright white circles etched into the darkness¡ªand his lips were curved into a seemingly permanent smile, a grin made of blood-rusted daggers.


    The cat¡¯s gut screamed for her to run. Raw terror welled up from within her chest and urged her to seek refuge, but she gulped down her fear and set Arciel down, just in time to parry the monster¡¯s first attack. The tree knight bridged the fifty meter gap in less than a second and delivered an overhand swing. She could feel her wrists creaking beneath the overwhelming blow; it took pushing with her whole body just to deflect it off course.


    Its second and third strikes were just as heavy. His blackwood claymore lost its sharpness wherever it was touched by her master¡¯s blade, but a dulled edge did nothing to lower the raw power that backed his attacks. It felt like she would be flung away if she let down her guard.


    Twirling past a particularly heavy smash, she stepped on his foot and delivered a blow to his side. Her blade cleaved through his armour, but the wound it left was shallow, too small to leave any lasting damage. The confirmed hit would have easily ripped him in half had she enraged or sacrificed her health, but she dared not pay forward her life force, knowing that she would regain it at less than a tenth the usual rate.


    Capitalising on her failure, the tree knight launched a counterattack and drove its wooden claymore towards her. She made an attempt to dodge away, but no matter how she pulled or twisted, her sword refused to budge. It was only as the dulled blade crashed into her shoulder and nearly shattered the bone that she finally acknowledged that a blood price was not something she could afford to avoid.


    Clenching her teeth to resist the ensuing pain, she activated the weakest of her dark knight skills, and sacrificed a hundred points of health.


    There was a flash through the forest as her strength was bolstered tenfold, followed soon after by the spilling of purple blood. With just one hand, she tore her blade not out, but through the fighter¡¯s body and ripped it cleanly in two. Not letting down her guard, she plunged her weapon into his corpse and nailed its upper half to the floor. She continued to keep an eye on it, just in case, as she scrolled through her logs to confirm its death. Then and only then did she finally step away.


    He was level 297 and certainly tough enough to match. What caught her attention, however, was not the number of milestones under his belt, but his race. He was a blighted corpsetree fruit. Just like the hundred others that had suddenly fallen to the floor.


    The bodies that the plant released changed as they were dropped from its branches. Wood grew from their frames and enveloped their skin. Their faces were stripped away and turned to blackened fibres, blighted xylem, that sought nutrients not from the soil, but the blood of the deceased and soon to be.


    Again, the thought of running flashed through her mind, but the monsters were too fast, and their grasp on the terrain ensured that her attempts at escape would end in vain.


    Natalya closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Without opening them again, she lowered her stance, raised her sword in front of her, and put her free hand behind her back. Had she been like her master, she likely would have held a sidearm, a thick dagger she would use to parry the enemies¡¯ weapons. But she was a catgirl, not a huskar. Her invisible claws would serve the same purpose.


    Rushing headfirst, she started the encounter by eating a thousand points of health. For the next hour, her strength and dexterity would be doubled, her eyes would grow sharper, and her body more durable.


    Another blood price was immediately paid forward, its result a heavy, horizontal sweep. For another five thousand points, roughly four percent of her total, she delivered an attack powerful enough to split open a mountain. The fruit fell like flies, but the tree itself was far tougher than its brittle shavings. It resisted her attack and suffered nothing but a tiny nick, a minor scratch that healed in a matter of seconds, but it threw a fit all the same. It roared violently as it tore its roots from the soil and shambled towards her, the corpses still on its branches shrinking and shriveling with every step.


    The rancid, purple fog grew thicker as the fleshiest part of its body rose from beneath the earth. A collection of stolen, swollen brains, arranged to form a pulsing, infantile body. It was the sort of sight that would have an inexperienced warrior vomiting and fleeing. But in Natalya, its airborne venom instilled more confidence than fear. The poison had eaten away at her health. And finally given her an excuse to enrage without waste.


    The world blurred as she drew the rune and chanted its key phrase. Her spell immediately overwrote the effects of the brain-eating tree¡¯s miasma, replacing it instead with a self-inflicted madness.


    That was when the black thing finally attacked. It lashed with such speed that its thin, sharp lines turned to a blurry mess. She could barely follow it. Her last minute parry failed to amount to a defense. Her arm ruptured, exploded when she deflected its attack, bursting into a mess of red and white.


    But level two saw the limb immediately regenerated. Because the limit on her life force dictated that she was in perfect condition at exactly half her maximum health.


    Diving through a forest of long black things, she swung her sword and claws in tandem.


    None of them cut anything. And her vision was filled with red.


    One of the black things poked through her thinking thing and tried to lift her above the purple. Even slashing at its branches, she found herself unable to break free. So she enraged again.


    Once, twice, thrice she descended.


    Straight to level five.


    Pain. Rage. Death. Murder. Sword. Claws. Attack. Dodge. Kill.


    Every purple spore inhaled was neutralised. Every seedling that attacked was cut down. Every tendril that drew near was shredded.


    It was not with a violent, messy blitz that she challenged the treant, nor a mindless charge with aggression as its only measure. Because unlike those that embodied the wrath of the gods, Lia, Natalya Vernelle, was a blademaster first and a berserker second. Even when reduced to a beast with less than half a brain.


    The instincts she possessed were not like those of a feral tiger¡¯s, but a graceful cheetah¡¯s. The steps she took were slow and methodical, almost like a dance, a perfect symphony conducted with her blade.


    But her victory could not be celebrated.


    Because upon the tree¡¯s death, the clock¡¯s hand was turned. Back to the twenty-eighth minute of the seventeenth hour.

 Chapter 198 - Behind the Locked Door II

    Chapter 198 - Behind the Locked Door II


    Sylvia banged a paw against the top of Claire¡¯s head as she rolled back and forth and giggled up a storm. Such vigour accompanied her cackles that she immediately found herself short of breath; speaking was impossible, and her consciousness found itself fading away, already half replaced by a pure white world of bliss.


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    Pinching the fox¡¯s nose with one hand, Claire lightly rubbed her battered forehead with the other. Her brow was every bit as red as her cheeks, and she was tempted to lay at least some of the blame on the fox, who had only watched as she bashed her face straight into the rock-hard dimensional gate.


    ¡°Stupid portal.¡±


    Grumbling in frustration, she kicked the magical doorway, but it didn¡¯t budge. The forces around its entrance had long swirled to make an invisible shield that prevented her passage. It refused to loosen unless she backed away, and taking even the slightest step in the portal¡¯s direction resulted in the blockade¡¯s immediate return.


    Rolling her eyes, Claire crafted a storm of vectors and forcefully deconstructed the barrier. Every spell that tried to reject her was wrenched aside, ripped apart, leaving the portal bare and unattended. Its magical options depleted, the gateway attempted to repel with a physical deterrence. Pale, sickly hands emerged from within, wriggling and bending in ways impossible for bodies intact. They reached for her throat, but never touched her. Those that came too close froze and crumpled; not even the thickest one could stand up to the piercing cold.


    When she stepped out the other side, she found herself standing atop an elevated, paved road that stretched as far as the eye could see. The bridge was made of cement and stone, anchored in the ground with wide, robust bricks. Empty fields of water lay on both sides of the structure, with one of the two horizons sporting a setting sun, and the other already taken by the night¡¯s embrace. Two scruffy seagulls landed on the railing, cawing at her before flying off again, setting sail for the other sky.


    ¡°Oh, there you are! What took you so long?¡±


    Sylvia was standing in the middle of the road, tail wagging in anticipation of the long journey ahead. She was in her humanoid form, bent forward with her hands behind her back and a wide grin plastered across her face.


    ¡°Come on! Hurry up! We¡¯re gonna be late!¡±


    Running over to the lyrkress and grabbing her by the hand, the fox happily skipped down the road, talking about the various sights that awaited them all the while. The chattering continued for five straight minutes. Until she was interrupted by a lizard to the chest. An incredibly confused, flattened Boris was shoved into the fox¡¯s gut and wrenched through her ribs.


    The kill came with a log, but not one that the lyrkress thought about for any more than a second. Because it was never spoken. And Flux had never failed before.


    ¡°How could you?¡±


    The words left the fox¡¯s lips before as her skin turned pale. The blood that drilled from her lips changed, dulling from red to black, mammalian to eldritch. Her cold, dead hands tried to reach for the lyrkress¡¯ throat. But just like all the others, they failed. Even as eyes began appearing all over them, growing, shrinking, transformed into a mass of black.


    ¡°False believer.¡± ¡°Stay away.¡± ¡°Dreamwalker.¡± ¡°Another one.¡± ¡°Leave us.¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°How?¡± ¡°Childkiller.¡± ¡°Stay.¡± ¡°Horror¡± ¡°The wall.¡± ¡°One of us.¡± ¡°Go away.¡± ¡°Horror.¡± ¡°Dreamwalker.¡± ¡°Lost.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Ice.¡± ¡°Blasphemer.¡± ¡°She broke the wall.¡± ¡°Dreamwalker.¡± ¡°One of us.¡± ¡°You broke the wall.¡± ¡°Horror.¡± ¡°Leave us.¡± ¡°Spark.¡± ¡°Stop her.¡± ¡°Immediately.¡± ¡°Now.¡± ¡°Ice.¡± ¡°Horror.¡± ¡°Brethren.¡±


    Each pupil appeared to glow as it spoke, their deathly moans overlapping, melding together to form a melange of terrified whispers. The monster tried to emerge from within Sylvia¡¯s open wound, but a twist of the lizard cut it short. The eyes screeched in pain, shrinking away into the pulsating, darkened limbs before slowly fading to dust.


    Half the fox¡¯s body was turned to ash and blown away by the wind, while the rest gave beneath its weight and crumbled into a pile of red and white. Only to reappear in perfect condition. Right as another pair of seagulls landed on the side of the bridge.


    Like a broken record, the dream looped. A freshly reconstructed Sylvia repeated her lines and stepped forward.


    So Claire stabbed her again. To fuel the same result.


    Over and over, ad infinitum, the cycle continued. More detail was added with every iteration. Sylvia¡¯s behaviour became more realistic. Cities appeared on both ends of the bridge, and their skylines were fleshed out. The wildlife grew more abundant; two gulls turned to four, four to eight, and so on and so forth.


    Until Claire finally snapped.


    Sick of the illusion, she reached into her chest and retrieved her golden key. Sylvia lunged at her and tried desperately to knock it out of her hands, but holding in a reverse grip, she wove it past the fox¡¯s defenses and jabbed it into the faker¡¯s skull.


    A quick twist was all she needed to finally untangle the twisted threads. The bridge, the cities, the gulls. All of it went away as she found herself standing in a dark, humid room with a ceiling high enough to support her true form. Viscous, red liquid fell from the rocky roof, drizzling it in a veil of blood that would wash back to its origin after hitting the ground. At the end of the cavern, under a single ray of sunlight, sat a tired, deflated creature, a blob of blackened flesh with many eyes and tendrils, groaning the words that continued to echo through her ears.


    The thing was already in combat, lashing out with its tentacles at a tiny mantis dressed in a suit of armour. It was only as she took a closer look at Arciel and Natalya, who lay in the room¡¯s far corner, that she realised her own predicament. There was a one-eyed blob attached to her forehead. But unlike theirs, it was dried out, shriveled and crumpled into a heap of dead flesh.


    ¡°How long?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ maybe like a couple seconds?¡± said Sylvia, from atop her head. The fox was completely blob free, just like the lizard and the scythe-armed bug. ¡°Oh and uhh¡­ by the way¡­¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°How could you just kill me like that!? That¡¯s so mean! You didn¡¯t even hesitate!¡±


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it looked just as adorable as me, and it smelled and acted like me too! It was basically just me!¡±


    ¡°But it wasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but you were still supposed to like, not stab it right away!¡±


    Sighing, Claire ignored the fox¡¯s indignant squeaks and looked at the key still present in her hands. It was supposed to be a piece of a dream, something that existed only in the realm of her mind. But the object was no delusion; she could feel its weight in her hands, the cold of its metal frame, and the minor blemishes and imperfections that dotted its surface. But when she pressed it into her chest, it vanished, disappearing as if it had never been.


    ¡°I thought we were supposed to be best friends! Best friends don¡¯t just stab each other like that! Wait, are you even listening!?¡±


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    ¡°No.¡± Claire pinched the fox¡¯s cheeks as she drew Boris and moved towards the distant battle. ¡°Do we need to wake them up?¡±


    ¡°Oh, uhm¡­ I don¡¯t think so?¡± Sylvia tilted her head. ¡°It¡¯s just a shoggoth. They should be okay until it gets bored, since it probably just wants to eat their dreams and stuff.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Drawing Boris and coating him in a layer of venom, Claire bucked her hips and sprang across the hall.


    ¡°Stay out of it! This one¡¯s mine!¡±


    But her momentum slowed as soon as the knight noticed her advance.


    Even knowing his mental illness, Claire found the request rather bizarre. Matthias was on his back foot. Every attack that the amorphous blob launched would either pierce his defenses or force him to back away. Its tentacle lashes were so powerful that they tore open the stone chamber, the fists were tough enough to damage his blade, and its eyes kept up a constant, magical assault. Few if any of the arcane spells appeared to be aimed at the warrior, and that was precisely why he found it so difficult to evade them. The sheer volume of visual clutter made it impossible for him to identify the eyes fixed on his frame, and the random patterns would often leave him with nowhere to dodge.


    Still, Claire obliged. Coming to a stop, she returned her lizard to his strap and pulled her fox into her arms.


    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re actually gonna let him fight?¡± asked Sylvia, with a tilt of the head.


    ¡°Of course,¡± said Claire. ¡°I still gain experience if he wins. There will be fewer of us to split it between if he loses.¡±


    ¡°Well I mean¡­ I guess that does kinda make sense, but I just think it¡¯d be more Clairey of you to step in and beat it up anyway. Or maybe kill them both while they¡¯re not looking out for you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a barbarian.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right! You stabbed me! Like five hundred times!¡±


    Pulling a little harder than usual on the vixen¡¯s cheeks, Claire heaved a heavy sigh. ¡°For the last time, you stupid rat. That wasn¡¯t you. That was a fake you that the stupid shoggoth came up with.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it was still a fake me! I would¡¯ve hesitated to kill a fake you, you know!¡±


    ¡°Prove it.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia tilted her head. ¡°How am I supposed to do that!?¡±


    ¡°Find a fake me and kill it.¡±


    ¡°Where the heck am I supposed to find a fake Claire!?¡±


    ¡°Valencia.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean!?¡±


    Silently petting the confused fox, Claire raised her head and turned her eyes back on the battle. Matthias was quick to prove himself more capable than she had initially expected. In the minute that she had spent looking away, he suffered no additional wounds; his time was spent pushing forward, diving between the tentacle monster¡¯s attacks, and slowly whittling it down. Despite the curious development, however, she found herself completely disinterested in the outcome of his fight.


    ¡°How come he¡¯s the only one awake?¡± asked the lyrkress.


    ¡°Uhhh dunno.¡± Sylvia pursed her lips. ¡°I¡¯m gonna ask the shoggoth.¡± Clapping her paws together, she vanished, appearing a moment later on top of the eldritch monster¡¯s head. She took a few seconds to speak to it before repeating the action and returning to her previous position. ¡°It says that he never fell asleep because he cut down the spore it threw at him. You¡¯re the only one that broke out.¡±


    ¡°What about you and Boris?¡±


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ Boris was never a target because he counts as a monster, and it¡¯s scared of me.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°It knows you might try to stab it in the back.¡±


    ¡°Hey! That was uncalled for.¡±


    ¡°So was stabbing me in the back with a frog.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait wait! Is that why you were stabbing me!? Just because you wanted to be petty and vent!?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Giggling, the longmoose scratched the underside of the fox¡¯s chin before walking to one of the walls and sitting down. A yawn threatened to escape her lips as she mindlessly browsed through her logs and menus, but she fought it back, right as she recalled a feature that had been effectively unusable prior to her ascension.


    Log Entry 7025


    You have connected to World Chat.


    The box that appeared in front of her was more detailed than the one she had expected. It was a strange, rectangular menu filled with all sorts of gibberish she didn¡¯t have the patience to look over. Fortunately, she was able to at least get it out of her way by lightly swiping it to the side. The box she was hoping to find appeared directly underneath, a large, mostly empty rectangle, with another much thinner one glued to its bottom. When she focused on the smaller box, she found that she was able to transcribe her thoughts to text with a speed and smoothness that no pen or scribe could match.


    Alfred: Hi Claire. Stop trying to talk and go bang the cat. Trust me when I say, in her culture, sleeping counts as consenting.


    Dorr: Context???


    Alfred: Don¡¯t worry about it.


    Dorr: Yup, sounds like that one was going exactly where I thought it was. Please do us all a favour and ignore him.


    Claire: Don¡¯t worry. I will.


    A smug grin appeared on her face as she relayed the message with her mind. As a whole, making use of the interface came off as somewhat of a strange experience. She felt like she was supposed to say the words out loud, as they were written, but it was impossible for her mouth to keep pace.


    Alfred: ??????? Why would you ever do that!?


    Claire: Because I hate you and your dumb cat fetish.


    Alfred: Claire, please. It is far from dumb. Meet Flitzegarde, and your eyes will open to a whole new world of possibilities.


    Dorr: Yeah, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s ever going to happen. You do realise that she shies away from everyone you taint, right? And for good reason too.


    Alfred: What good reason!?


    Dorr: ¡­


    Dorr: So anyway, hello, Claire, nice to meet you, etc. I see you¡¯re not instantly disconnecting this time.


    Claire: The pleasure is mine, God of the Inner Flame.


    Dorr: Dorr¡¯s fine.


    Alfred: Yeah, she ascended. Picked up a few dozen points at least, I bet.


    Dorr: Right¡­ Not bad. Didn¡¯t go myself, but heard Flux made a whole event out of it.


    Claire: Describing it as an event is generous. They were simply observing.


    Alfred: Yeah, and that makes it an event. Anyway, enough stalling. Go fuck the cat.


    Claire: No.


    She hugged Sylvia closer to her chest and rested her chin on her head. ¡°How do I make Alfred shut up?¡±


    Alfred: You can¡¯t. :)


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ Iunno.¡± Sylvia placed a hand on her paw and tilted her head. ¡°Wait, are you connected to world chat right now?¡±


    ¡°Mhm.¡±


    ¡°Oh! Then can you do me a reaaaaally big favour and give Al a piece of my mind? I can¡¯t believe he just started letting everyone out after he made such a big deal about letting me explore and stuff!¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Claire: Alfred. Sylvia has complaints. She says¡­


    Alfred: I heard her already. Just tell her it was outside my control.


    ¡°He says that he¡¯s recently discovered that he¡¯s more interested in catboys than catgirls, so he doesn¡¯t have any time to field your complaints.¡±


    Alfred: That doesn¡¯t sound anything like what I said¡­


    Dorr: Yeah, but it¡¯s pretty on brand.


    Alfred: Well¡­ a bit, maybe.


    ¡°Wait, really?¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice. ¡°Well¡­ now that I think about it, it does kinda make sense. Mom said that he used to tie up the equitaur in the basement and take turns screwing him and his wife.¡±


    Claire: Pervert. I doubt they even consented.


    Alfred: I¡¯ll have you know that was an experiment for experiment¡¯s sake. All of them have agreed to experiments at least.


    Dorr: Man, Al¡­ sometimes I think you really need a chastity belt or something, for your brain.


    Alfred: I¡¯d break it with sheer vigour.


    Claire: Disgusting.


    Alfred: Yes, yes, I know you¡¯re narrow minded. Can you just tell her what I said already?


    Claire: Fine.


    ¡°Apparently, that was an experiment for experiment¡¯s sake.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± The fox twisted her face. ¡°Well uhm¡­ I¡¯m just glad I wasn¡¯t around to see it.¡±


    Alfred: ¡­


    Dorr: LOL


    Log Entry 7026


    You have disconnected from World Chat.


    Smirking, Claire ignored the divine revelations that ensued and turned her eyes on the battle.


    The duel between the bug and the blob would soon be over. And whatever the conclusion may have been, it was sure to be worth more of her time than Alfred¡¯s idle complaints.

 Chapter 199 - Behind the Locked Door III

    Chapter 199 - Behind the Locked Door III


    ¡°Ugh¡­ my head hurts.¡± Lia winced as she pressed a palm against the side of her temple. She had already healed; her health regeneration had removed the shoggoth¡¯s toothmarks from the spot she was touching, and her hair had grown back to its usual length, but her head was still spinning.


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ I think you¡¯ll probably be stuck like that for a bit,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It had to stick a tentacle in your head to nom on your dreams, so you¡¯ll probably have to rest while your brain sorts itself out again.¡±


    ¡°Please stop,¡± mumbled the cat. ¡°I really don¡¯t want to imagine something messing with my head right now.¡±


    ¡°I approached the brink of insanity,¡± muttered Arciel. ¡°I cannot even begin to recall the number of times that I attempted to escape.¡± In her hands sat a cup of viscous purple liquid, drawn from the deceased eldritch abomination and heated by the bonfire in front of her.


    The squid normally would have preferred to consume it raw, but chose to boil it out of concern for the possibility of adverse effects. She, of course, was not the only one eating. The group had already set up camp for the night; the sun had already set, and by Sylvia¡¯s account, the weakened debuff was sure to persist for a few hours while their brains double-checked all the required connections.


    ¡°Tell me about it. I felt like I was going to lose it, with how long I had to keep my berserk going.¡± Lia slowly brought a shoggoth-meat skewer to her lips, but set it back down on her plate as soon as her nose caught its scent. ¡°Is there anything else to eat? This seems a little¡­ unpalatable.¡±


    ¡°A warrior must always consume their prey,¡± said Matthais. ¡°Especially if it bested you.¡±


    ¡°A rhiar warrior perhaps, but we Paunseans don¡¯t really do that.¡±


    ¡°Then maybe it¡¯s time to start.¡± The mantis took a bite of his own skewer and swallowed it with a grimace. ¡°It¡¯s well worth the momentary discomfort, if you manage to acquire the devour skill. And there is no single ability more important to any monster hunter.¡±


    Arciel raised a hand and silenced the mantis, before turning towards the cat. ¡°When it comes to this, he will nag at you until he has his way. You will unfortunately be better off listening, even in the case that you find yourself plagued with indigestion.¡±


    ¡°If anyone¡¯s going to end up with indigestion, it¡¯s going to be her.¡± Lia looked over at Claire, who was chewing away with her usual indifferent look.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    She had no preference for the shoggoth¡¯s flesh. Its flavour was hardly anything of note¡ªmildly fishy, with a strong gamey aftertaste¡ªand its texture was no better. Flaky, dry, and brittle, the meat crumbled in her mouth like a shell full of sand. And yet, she couldn¡¯t stop eating once she started; every last morsel on her skewer was swallowed as quickly as her manners would allow.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be more than fine.¡± The mantis smirked as he handed her another serving. ¡°Those that eat their kills grow stronger.¡±


    ¡°I took no part in its death,¡± said Claire, ¡°because you wanted a duel.¡±


    He laughed awkwardly, taking another bite to hide his smile. ¡°I¡¯m sure you did still participate in some way or another. At the very least, you didn¡¯t end up like the other two.¡±


    ¡°It caught us completely off guard,¡± admitted Arciel. ¡°I don¡¯t think either of us were expecting to get sucked in like that.¡±


    ¡°Neither was I,¡± said the rhiar. ¡°The cat, I can understand. There was not much she could do, given her lack of magic, but you should have protected yourself, or perhaps even the both of you with one of your barriers.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Matthias, I am aware, and I shall endeavor to do better should any similar situation arise,¡± she said, with a groan.


    The knight frowned, but returned to his meal without any further comment.


    For a while, the group sat in an awkward silence. Only Claire and Sylvia appeared to enjoy the abomination¡¯s flesh and blood. Everyone else ate reluctantly, or not at all. Even the man that had suggested the idea to begin with found it difficult to swallow. If anything, the mantis was the one having the hardest time. He winced every time he bit into the flesh and stopped after a single skewer, hardly enough to feed a fully grown rhiar.


    ¡°Claire.¡± Arciel spoke after finishing her first bowl of blood.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I would like to see the form you took when you flew through the storm. I do not believe it to be one I am familiar with.¡±


    The lyrkress took a moment to raise her ears over her head before unraveling her body and extending it through the subterranean chamber. There was just barely enough room for her to stretch out her neck and spread her wings without running into the wall, but she refrained regardless. It would be in poor taste to stretch in front of an audience, especially with some of its members so intently observing.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know exactly what I am either.¡± Her voice echoed through the cave, bouncing off the walls in a way that sent a strange, uncomfortable tingle up the back of her spine. But even more off putting than hearing her words repeated back to her was the sensation she felt upon looking at the dead shoggoth; her drive to consume its flesh had grown proportionally with her size. ¡°The class description is empty.¡±


    ¡°I have heard that is often the case with rarer classes.¡± The vampire squid got up from her seat and approached Claire¡¯s talons. Extending a hand, she waited for the draco-qilin to nod before pressing it against the thick scales that covered her skin. ¡°They are very smooth. I doubt it would be possible to lodge an object between them even in the case that you were caught off guard.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re surprisingly tough too. I have trouble cutting through them without enraging,¡± said Natalya.


    ¡°Not tough enough,¡± said Claire. ¡°I still have to dodge most things.¡±


    ¡°I think that goes for everyone,¡± said the cat, with a strained smile.


    Shrugging, the longmoose formed an icy cooking utensil in each talon and cut a piece out of the shoggoth. The next step was more difficult. She paused as she realised that her limbs were too stubby for her to bring the serving to her mouth, and there was no grace in bending her neck. Fortunately, her force magic allowed her to compensate. Moving the utensils with her mind instead of her body, she lifted the meat to her lips with all the usual finesse.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°I was of the mind that you were meant to be half centaur, half lamia. Your appearance is closer to a cross between a ropefish and a lizard.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a moose and a snake.¡± Claire stood up onto her hind legs and pointed at her hooves before lying down on her belly and slithering around like a serpent. ¡°See?¡±


    ¡°It is difficult to make the connection without seeing you in motion. Your wings are also of a completely different variety than most centaurian ones.¡±


    ¡°They make more sense if you¡¯ve seen her previous form,¡± said Natalya, as she wrapped up her meal with a grimace. ¡°She used to have flippers made of the same stuff, instead of hind legs.¡±


    "I still have them." Claire flexed one of the large flippers growing on her wrists, and flapped it to fan the bonfire¡¯s flames.


    "Why don''t you use your medium-sized form anymore anyway?" asked Sylvia. "Didn''t it use to be your favorite?"


    "Talons get in the way.¡± The ascended lyrkress placed a foot on the shoggoth¡¯s corpse, ¡°they¡¯re too sharp for their own good,¡± and demonstrated by lightly dragging it along the monster¡¯s skin. Surely enough, a large gash followed, the same fate that had befallen at least two of Olga¡¯s carpets. "My true form is my preferred, but it¡¯s impractical. It''s too big for the town, and too conspicuous for hunting monsters."


    Natalya covered her face with her hands, but she was unable to stop herself from breaking into a giggle. "I still can''t believe they tried to stable you that one time we were helping that old farmhand break in his turberi."


    "Oh yeah! That was hilarious!" Sylvia spoke as she climbed the length of Claire¡¯s neck, took up her usual spot atop her head, and turned into her humanoid form, just so their size ratios could at least somewhat be retained. ¡°He took one look at your hooves and decided you had to be some sort of a fancy horse.¡±


    ¡°I still need to get him back for that.¡± Muttering under her breath, she did the group the favour of slicing up and consuming the last of the shoggoth¡¯s flesh.


    ¡°What happened to not holding grudges?¡± asked Sylvia, with an accusing stare.


    ¡°I don¡¯t. This isn¡¯t a grudge.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re literally talking about getting him back! If that isn¡¯t a grudge, then I dunno what is.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t a grudge if it¡¯s well deserved.¡±


    ¡°I second that,¡± said Arciel. ¡°It is only natural to strike at those that wrong you, but I do not believe said farmhand to have been entirely unreasonable. Your hooves certainly bear a resemblance to those of a horse¡¯s, and he had likely never seen a centaur or any related subspecies.¡±


    ¡°Wait, seriously!? Why¡¯s that the only part that you think is a problem!?¡± The frustrated fox¡¯s shout¡ªthe sole voice of reason¡ªechoed through the cave, a theme that would only repeat throughout the rest of the night.


    ___


    While everyone else was sound asleep, dreaming the darkness away in their makeshift beds, Claire alone lay with her eyes wide open. She had been tasked with keeping the first watch. But even when left by herself, the lyrkress was not allowed to experience the wonder of a silent night. Her floofy ears were plagued by voices, voices belonging to creatures that did not truly exist.


    ¡°Are you stupid? It only tasted so good because it was a threat!¡±


    ¡°Labeling it a threat is a bit of an exaggeration. It barely gave us half a level¡¯s worth of experience. It was only delicious because it happened to be delicious.¡±


    ¡°Half a level is a lot, damn it. When was the last time we killed something that gave us half a level?¡±


    ¡°A week ago, my dear serpent.¡±


    Neither the violent snake nor its voracious equine counterpart had snout in their names, but both had discarded the source of their epithets and migrated to the bridge of her nose. Once present, they reverted to their usual selves and immediately began to bicker. Claire, of course, was very much annoyed by the development, but neither critter was willing to yield and return. They argued that her shoulders had grown too far apart for them to hold any discussions, but she knew that they were lying. They only preferred standing atop her face because they wished to ensure that she was aware of their presence.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t count. It was before we got the new girl. Right, new girl?¡±


    The danger noodle craned its neck and looked over at Headhydra, who was lazing around with one of her heads stacked atop the two others. When addressed, it opened the eyes at the top of the pile, but quickly closed them again before long.


    Shouldersnake breathed a sigh and slithered over to her newest coworker. ¡°Get over it already, new girl. You ain¡¯t some big baddie anymore. You¡¯re a spirit now, so act like one.¡±


    ¡°Stop calling me ¡®new girl.¡¯ I have a name.¡± The three-headed hydra opened its eyes again, just to glare.


    ¡°Okay, Headhydra,¡± said the snake, with a sigh. ¡°Whatever you say.¡±


    ¡°My name is not Headhydra! It¡¯s Farenlight!¡± growled the tri-lizard.


    ¡°And that¡¯s exactly what I was talking about when I told you to get over it,¡± said Shouldersnake.


    ¡°I for one find her attitude rather refreshing,¡± said Shoulderhorse. ¡°And why not refer to her by her name? She is beautiful enough to deserve it, I¡¯d say. She is not quite on my level, but her colouration certainly is both fair and light.¡±


    ¡°That is not why I¡¯m named Farenlight,¡± spat the hydra.


    ¡°Then why are you?¡± asked Shoulderhorse.


    ¡°Faren is a term derived from the concept of death,¡± snapped the lizard. ¡°I am the dying light, the end of all hope, and the herald to the dawn of the end.¡±


    Shouldersnake winced. ¡°So when are you getting over yourself again? Because this phase you¡¯re going through is preeeeetty bad if you ask me.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Shouldersnake, you silly thing,¡± said the pony. ¡°Her name is every bit as artistic as ours are. Why not allow her to revel in it for a little longer?¡±


    Silently, the serpent slithered next to the horse and bashed their heads against each other.


    ¡°Ow! What was that for? You¡¯re going to scar my beautiful face!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to bite your neck off if you don¡¯t stop encouraging her.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not even sure I would mind that all that much to be honest. It would give me a good chance to finally eat myself and find out how I taste. I know I will be supremely delicious, but the real question is how close I am to perfect. It is such a shame that my own palate is the only one I can truly trust to be discerning enough to offer a proper evaluation.¡±


    ¡°Can the three of you shut up for five minutes?¡± Claire eventually gave up and joined the conversation with a grumble. ¡°I¡¯m trying to think, and you three are making it so I can¡¯t even hear my own thoughts.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense!¡± shouted Shoudlerhorse. ¡°There are no thoughts more important than listening to my beautiful voice! Cast them aside, immediately!¡±


    ¡°I hate you.¡±


    ¡°Me too, Claire. Me too,¡± grumbled the snake.


    ¡°Why, thank you! I love the two of you too,¡± said Shoulderhorse. ¡°You¡¯re the best friends that my adorable face can buy. And of course, that goes for you too, Headhydra.¡± The pony¡¯s declaration was met with five unhappy glares, but it noticed a grand total of zero and continued blabbing away.


    To Claire¡¯s dismay, such events had become the standard since her ascension. The three idiots would crawl out of the woodwork every time Sylvia fell asleep and waste half her night with their idle chatter. Strangely, even their lengthiest conversations had no effect on how rested she felt in the mornings, but their bickering remained just as annoying as it had been throughout her youth. And while the newest and proudest addition shared in most of her distaste, the three-headed lizard did nothing to improve the situation.


    Equal parts bored and annoyed, Claire nearly resorted to praying to seek a resolution. But fortunately, no such act was needed. Because out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a distant glimmer. The portal that had led them into the cave suddenly began to glow.


    The centaurian scouts that had entered through it raised their weapons as soon as they caught sight of her. Because just like the group that had come before them, they had found an abyssal horror lurking within the darkness.

 Chapter 200 - Behind the Locked Door IV

    Chapter 200 - Behind the Locked Door IV


    There was a brief pause as the two parties stared each other down. Taken aback by the hulking beast¡¯s sudden appearance, the warriors immediately drew their weapons and prepared for a confrontation. After a moment of consideration, Claire decided to lean into the misunderstanding. She stood tall, obscured the encampment with her tail and warned them with a snarl¡ªall actions that could easily be justified as necessary precautions. She left it to the Cadrian warriors to follow through on their training, to prioritise their safety by striking without first voicing their questions. And disappoint the ascended lyrkress the pair did not.


    Their demeanor changed as they realised that the portal had closed behind them. One of the two scouts readied his spear, loosed a battlecry, and charged in a straight line, while the other took the opportunity to step back and blend into the background. It was a well-practiced tactic employed by two-man cells of all experience levels. One would distract her and stall for time, while the other would flee the battlefield and report their discoveries to their superior.


    Claire did not fall for the trick so easily. Her eyes glowed in the darkness as she looked away from the distraction. Magic coursed through her circuits, flooding them with just enough power to paralyze the escapee and freeze his eyes. In just a split second, he went from a potential loose end to an easy target, a guaranteed casualty of the icy beam she fired from her jaw.


    It was no breath attack, just a basic spell cast in Headhydra¡¯s image. But backed by a five digit wisdom stat, its raw power was immediately apparent. The cave fell a full five degrees as soon as she opened her mouth, with its temperature only plummeting further when the spell emerged from within it. Natalya and Sylvia both shivered, even though one was hidden beneath a heavy blanket, and the other nested in the lyrkress¡¯ mane.


    The aggressors were undeterred. To cover for his frozen ally, the fully functional warrior stepped in the way of the magical blast. He dug his feet into the ground with a guttural grunt and neutralised it with his shield. A familiar skill was used to bolster his defenses. He created from the buckler on his arm a much larger echo, a magical phantom to deflect her attack. It was an ability that came alongside many a knight class, a defensive reinforcement specialised in deflection of the magical variety. But his spirit, the ability score representing his resistance to magic, was not high enough to overcome her raw power. The magical barrier shattered after a brief moment of impact and left his body exposed.


    When subjected to the beam, his shield arm froze, its blood vessels violently rupturing as the cold liquid expanded. And yet, he stood firm. Breaking off his own frozen limb with his spear, he grew another, retrieved his buckler, and dusted the frost off of his unshaven beard. Unlike his faulty barrier and his brittle body, the enchanted shield was unbroken. It had suffered only a few splinters upon its seams. The runes engraved into its steel boss reinforced its wooden frame and rendered it many times tougher than it had any right to be.


    While the shielder took a moment to recover, Claire lifted Boris with her tail and took aim at his unmoving ally. Though given no explicit instructions, the lizard knew exactly what to do. He closed his eyes and transformed from an iguana to a serrated dart in less than a tenth of a second. Like an arrow, he flew when she released him. His blade tore straight through the plate armour in his path and mutilated the warrior¡¯s gut. With a twist of the frame, he carved the centaur¡¯s lower body apart, emerging out the other end with all the man¡¯s horsey entrails in tow. He transformed again when he hit the wall, dislodging his nose and scurrying back towards his master, his metallic scales still covered in a glistening sheet of red.


    Against anything but a trained Cadrian knight, it would have been a fatal blow. The warrior, however, did not allow his life to end. He didn¡¯t even grit his teeth as he ordered his body to regenerate and bore with the intense, accompanying pain. He even made an attempt to strike at the sentient projectile, but Boris faded before the horse¡¯s greatsword made contact. He phased out of the centaur¡¯s view and into Claire¡¯s grasp, ready and willing to be thrown again.


    For a moment, the lyrkress was stuck pondering what she was meant to do. She was more accustomed to the other side of the tiny person versus giant monster equation, and sparring with Lia had taught her that size was not as much of an advantage as it so often seemed. Though wounds inflicted by the tiny and insignificant were not nearly as painful or damning, the shape of her body made it difficult for her to claw at a less sizable foe. Her arms were too short and stubby, and her neck too long; she was unable to use her forelimbs without exposing her throat lest she made like an eagle and snatched her prey from above. She likely would have committed to the strategy had they been outside, but the cave¡¯s ceiling was too low for the necessary acrobatics.


    That was why she suddenly tucked in her limbs and dropped to the ground instead. Slithering like the massive wyrm she was, she sped through the cavern and met the closer centaur head-on. She beat the air with her wings as she lunged, tripling her speed at the exact moment of impact. He tried to intercept her with his spear, but she twisted her head out of the way and delivered a slash with the lizard that had appeared in her mouth. Boris had repositioned himself again, his shape shifted to that of a massive, dragon-sized dagger.


    Claire¡¯s first strike was off center. The soldier parried it with his buckler and drove his spear towards her side. He managed to bring its point down on her scales, but the swing lacked the force to pierce them. The only impression he left was a haphazard scratch that ran from her neck to her arm.


    When she spun her head around, to slash at him again, he was ready. He raised his shield just quickly enough to deflect the attack whilst lifting his spear overhead. He shifted his grip towards the weapon¡¯s tip to increase his leverage before driving it towards the side of her neck. It was on course to strike her, but a jagged claw beat him to the punch. Massive talons pierced through his chest and destroyed his lungs. Knowing that a flesh wound was not enough to finish the man, she closed her fist around his body and squished it in a brutal demonstration of raw power. His bones crumpled like paper. The blood was wrung from his pores like water from a rag, draining all over her hand and coating it with a slick but sticky paste.


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    His ally did not allow his death to be in vain. Finally freed from his paralysis, the second knight seized the opening that followed and leapt at her with his greatsword raised overhead. A grin appeared on his face when she swiped her tail towards him. Turning on a dime, he darted out of the way and cleaved at the fluffy appendage with his heavy blade. The weight of the blow provided the steel with all the force it needed to cut through her scales. But that was as far as it got. His cocky smirk twisted into a look of horror when he realised that his weapon was stuck in her flesh. Ice ran up its length, trapping it where it was.


    He tried to let go, to flee from his encroaching death, but he could not outrun the whisper of the winter winds. It seized him by the hands and locked him in place for the finishing blow. Claire wrapped around to his side and paralyzed him again just to rub salt into his wounds before driving Boris into the weakest part of his body.


    The sharpened lizard tore through the centaur¡¯s waist, cleanly separating his upper and lower halves. Ever resilient, he tried to crawl away and regrow his equine parts, but a hoof crashed into his face and crushed his skull, finally ending him for good.


    Only a few seconds had elapsed, but the battle was over, completely and unilaterally decided by the superior party.


    Kicking the corpses into one of the room¡¯s far corners, Claire took a deep breath and returned to her previous position. The commotion had woken some of the camp¡¯s members. The mantis smirked at her from the cot that he had on the wall, while Lia had scrambled to her feet, only to fall asleep again as she realised that her aid was unneeded. Arciel and Sylvia had outright refused to rise, one because she had failed to notice the circumstances, and the other because she simply did not care for the horses¡¯ lives.


    Her companions remained as silent as they had been in their sleep, leaving Claire to reflect on the level that she had gleaned from the horse people¡¯s deaths.


    She had known going in that she would emerge the victor, and easily at that. The Llystletein experience and her nonsensical second ascension had provided her with more power than most in her level range. Still, she was disappointed, not only in herself, but her countrymen as well. Cadrian knights were supposed to be the best of the best. That was what she had always been told, as well as what she understood from the results of their battles.


    The pair she had fought were certainly not in any way reputable or outstanding. Neither bore any particular insignias or badges, and neither had been recruited to Augustus Manor for further training. They were run of the mill, ordinary soldiers. But even so, she found them almost too pathetic. She had applied none of her more powerful abilities. Her force magic remained untapped, and the only rogue skills she had leveraged were passive. Her racial traits were the only ones she had exploited to achieve the landslide victory, and not even all of them had been required. A breath attack from afar would have guaranteed a pair of instant kills.


    They were almost weak enough for her to suspect that they were not truly Cadrian soldiers, but their race¡¯s names and styles of combat served as evidence to the contrary. It was impossible to ascend and become a Tornaturn wingrunner without joining Tornatus¡¯ town guard and surviving its grueling training regimen. They simply had to be up to standard, at the very least. But even though they roughly were the same level, neither could hold a candle to the catgirl curled up next to the fire. Claire was confident that Lia could have dispatched them with her eyes closed and her berserker abilities sealed away.


    Claire was so annoyed that she blew a breath in the soldiers¡¯ direction and disintegrated their corpses. The pony was already starting to get ideas, and consuming them was the last thing she wanted to do. Such funeral rights were reserved only for those that deserved her respect.


    She was finally beginning to understand why war was on the horizon. If the quality of the Marquis¡¯ troops was reflective of the country as a whole, then Cadria could only have been on a steep decline. Pollux was meant to be a warlord, responsible for guarding the nation¡¯s southern border from its many hostile neighbours, but with his troops so weak, he could mount no such defense. It was no wonder Kryddar was rallying its troops. If they could not be stalled till dusk by warriors of a superior quality, then the armies of first light were nigh unstoppable; reclaiming their taken territories was no longer a pipe dream.


    ¡°I wonder if this is how Father felt.¡± A tired, wry smile crossed her lips. She felt as if she had suddenly come to understand the duke¡¯s disappointment, the frustration that was her inability to live up to expectations. ¡°Perhaps he would change his mind if he saw me now.¡± She reacted with a twitch as she heard the words that had unwittingly emerged from her mouth, but calmed soon after. Taking a deep breath, she dismissed it as just another ordinary thought¡ªa rational hypothetical that anyone in her circumstances would have been sure to consider¡ªand allowed the train to follow its tracks.


    Though she had proven herself far better than an unskilled soldier, there was no doubt that her father would still consider her inferior. She had suffered a hit during the exchange, and while it was insignificant, it rendered her performance worse than that of a squire¡¯s. Valencia¡¯s town guard was better than most, and trainees as fresh as Nymphetel were able to breeze through their ranks and strike down their commanders without breaking a sweat.


    She needed to grow, to continue bettering herself, if she wanted to stand up to the royal guard, whose deliberate class combinations and carefully allocated ability scores propped them far above the rank and file.


    With another tired sigh, she closed her eyes and allowed the mantis to take over the next shift. She would need to sit down and have a long think about the path forward. And though unlikely, it was possible that the phantom and his bizarre training regimen could offer a glimmer of insight, a spark of inspiration that would set her on the path of becoming a true natural disaster. As dragons and their ilk had always been meant to be.

 Chapter 201 - Behind the Locked Door V

    Chapter 201 - Behind the Locked Door V


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like they¡¯re coming back.¡± One uniformed centaur muttered to another as she stared at the open field spread out in front of her. ¡°It¡¯s been half an hour. What do you say? Do we keep marching, or do we stand down?¡±


    ¡°Why are you asking me?¡±


    The first voice belonged to a carefree mare, a tiny officer with a loose-fitting uniform and a golden crest atop her chest, while the second was owned by an annoyed beardless stallion, her second in command and a greenhorn with only a few real battles under his belt. As the neophyte had surmised, there was little valid reason for the seasoned veteran to seek his advice. While he was certainly reasonably intelligent, having passed through officer school with outstanding grades in everything but combat, his booksmarts could not measure up to her three-hundred-year career.


    ¡°I thought it might be worth hearing what the fresh blood¡¯s got to say.¡±


    The spinster¡¯s cheeky grin was met with an annoyed scowl. It was not the first time that such harassment had taken place, and Nero was convinced that it would not be the last. Fausta had bullied him ever since the time he had accidentally walked in on her in the midst of prioritising pleasure over deskwork.


    ¡°Now stop stalling already, damn it. Tell me what you wanna do and why.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no point. You¡¯re just going to say that I¡¯m wrong no matter what I tell you,¡± he said, as he scratched his scruffy head. His hair had been perfectly blonde just a few months prior, but many of the beautiful golden strands had started turning grey not too long after he was put under her command.


    ¡°Yeah? Well too bad. You¡¯re doing it anyway.¡± She raised her shieldlance, a particularly special piece of property constructed by a master blacksmith, and lightly tapped it against his shoulder, just hard enough that the spikes adorning its tip would not pierce his armour. ¡°Unless you want me to smack you.¡±


    The stallion pressed a hand into his face and groaned. ¡°Goddammit. I still don¡¯t know how I ended up in the goddamn army of all things.¡± After mumbling under his breath, the fifteen-year-old child soldier moved his hand to his chin and considered the answer to his superior¡¯s question. He made sure to think long and hard, to account for all the various details and possibilities, and hopefully provide an answer that would not be met with violence.


    ¡°We should keep going.¡± He paused, continuing only as the pony beside him threateningly raised her weapon. ¡°Rufus and Salvus aren¡¯t bad at what they do. If both of them are still missing, then it means they¡¯re either dead or unable to turn back. The best way to get any meaningful intel out of this is to send a pair back, so everyone else knows where we went, and have the rest of the unit push forward.¡±


    ¡°You know what? That wasn¡¯t too bad,¡± Fausta put away her blade, threw an arm around the lad¡¯s back, and slowly traced it around to his rear, which she greeted with a slap. ¡°You need to think more about the timeframe. Your reasoning still fell a bit short too, and I still don¡¯t think your balls have dropped yet, but it was much better than what I was expecting.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that last part is in any way related,¡± muttered the teenager. He flapped his feathers and escaped the groping hand by getting himself off the ground. Unlike most of the others in her unit, the recon team¡¯s commander did not possess a pair of functional wings. Hers were still present, but their magic had been ruined, permanently destroyed by a particularly nasty curse.


    ¡°It has everything to do with everything,¡± she said, with a laugh. ¡°The only reason your singing voice doesn¡¯t pack that extra oomph is ¡®cause you still don¡¯t know a woman¡¯s touch.¡±


    ¡°Comments like that are why none of your suitors ever stay around.¡±


    ¡°Eh, who cares. You¡¯ll take me anyway, right? Once the army¡¯s done having its way with me.¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± said the teenager, with a horrified grimace.


    ¡°How unreasonable. Can¡¯t y¡¯entertain a fair maiden¡¯s fantasies for once in your life?¡±


    ¡°Hell no! Not to mention, you¡¯re hardly a maiden at all.¡±


    ¡°Say that again, and I¡¯ll make sure the marquis docks your pay.¡±


    Both parties were well aware that any opportunity he gave would be readily and shamelessly exploited. Already three hundred years old, and still without a groom, Fausta was getting more than just a little bit desperate.


    The warrior¡¯s appearance was not the problem. Though not entirely capable of what most would consider sentient thought, she was certainly beautiful enough to charm most at a glance. Her features were delicately carved, her ears sported above average dimensions, and her body would forever remain delightfully youthful, courtesy of the sun goddess¡¯ blessing. Many chose to enlist in her unit precisely because they were enamoured by her looks and the rumours that she was seeking a husband. Nero was hardly any different. Having fallen in love at first sight, he transferred away from his safe, backline division for the sole purpose of winning her over.


    So why, one might ask, would an interested party like himself openly reject her blatant advances? Contrary to the average outsider¡¯s opinion, it was not a matter of youthful indiscretion; he was neither hiding his emotions behind a shy mask, nor backing down for fear of retribution. And while half the unit had certainly joined because they were unable to peel their eyes from her figure, the only ones still held captive were new recruits and those that shared her sex.


    Nero, like all the others, had been completely and utterly repulsed by the man-repellent that was her boorish personality. As an orphan raised by gruff military men, she had inherited nearly all their habits and mannerisms. It was often said that she knew not the concept of an inside voice, and would only ever speak at the top of her lungs. She drank, smoked, scuffled, and gambled with all the vigour of a man in the midst of his midlife crisis. Every time she saw an object that caught her fancy, she would buy it without regard for the cost.


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    Even perverts that desired her solely as an object of lust saw their desires defeated after a single night. The rumours spawned by those she broke claimed that, in bed, she was twisted beyond belief. Of the seventeen that had crossed the line, twelve turned their interests towards men, four joined celibate holy orders, and one went as far as drowning himself in a nearby river, citing that life was not worth living with his body so soiled.


    Despite her lack of success, Fausta herself saw no reason to change her behaviour. Even without a husband, she carried on fine, and often claimed that she would one day find someone that loved, accepted, and married her for who she was. That, of course, was an obvious pipe dream. Everyone acquainted with her knew she lacked the mental state to maintain a long-term relationship. Making compromises¡ªsacrificing her own self interests¡ªwas not something she ever considered, on the battlefield or not.


    It was precisely growing disillusioned with the physically perfect but mentally deficient pegasus that had inspired Nero to compose his latest piece. So perfect was the symphony that the gods had recognised it as an ars magna and reclassified it as a skill of its own. And while such an epitome was certainly uncommon, the bard was far from satisfied. It was only possible for each class to possess a single ars magna, and the fact that he had acquired prior to his 400th level left him with the impression that he was at his god-mandated limit. Until he went further beyond, until he mastered the ruin minstrel class, he would be unable to produce anything better than the masterpiece he had already put behind him.


    ¡°So?¡± His lips twisted into a frown and his arms crossed, the skyrunner looked down at the less-than-tranquil meadow below. ¡°What are we going to do, commander?¡± His voice was laced with venom, but the inquiry itself was genuine.


    ¡°Glad you finally asked.¡± Chortling, the lieutenant pulled out her pamphlet and flipped it to the page that contained the fifth floor¡¯s map. ¡°First things first, we have the men set up camp. It¡¯s late, and for some, the visibility is still markedly worse than it was during the day. The two we sent ahead might¡¯ve been caught up in some danger, or maybe gotten themselves lost, but it¡¯s always possible that they just decided to hole up and keep investigating. Unfortunately, that happens to be something that only time will tell.¡±


    The boy took a moment to digest the suggestion before nodding for her to continue.


    ¡°You were also right ¡®bout needing to have a message sent back to the count, but I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll need to bother sending a runner. They¡¯re coming right after us, and splitting our forces ain¡¯t smart if it turns out that the two we sent ahead really did manage to get themselves killed.¡±


    The mare walked back to the opening leading into the meadow and punched a hole into the rockface. Inside the fresh cavity, she shoved several sticks and other bits of plant matter, forming a makeshift but somewhat believable nest. Within it, she placed not a letter or magical device, but rather a live creature retrieved from her pouch¡ªthe only delivery mechanism that the dungeon was sure not to consume.


    Shaped exactly like a parrot, the homunculus was a tool developed specifically for a single purpose. Not entirely intelligent, its mental faculties allowed it to do little but listen, memorise, and repeat. In the past, its inability to distinguish between friend and foe had led many a military secret to leak, but that was a problem long solved, and not by way of improving the monster¡¯s intellect.


    ¡°Seven winds. Five twisted pentagrams. One inverse tomato.¡±


    Having made her report in code, the spinster led the boy back to the rest of the unit and announced that it was time for their nightly break.


    ___


    Claire woke before sunrise. Her eyes fluttering open, she slowly lifted her head and fought back a small yawn. She had fallen asleep with her mind set on the phantom¡¯s home, but had no memory of any such visitation. The night had gone by in the blink of an eye.


    Arciel was the only one awake. Having been assigned fourth watch, she sat in front of the fire with her face resting in her hands and her mind obliterated by boredom. Her clothes were still somewhat roughed up by the previous day¡¯s encounter. She would need a smooth, heated surface to fix them, but she was traveling light, and there were no maids present to pack or attend to her necessities.


    But while she did not have a clothes iron, she did have a plentiful amount of the element itself. A small ball of blood floated in front of her, its shape changing once every few seconds. Her shadow was doing the same. It was constantly distorting, albeit on a completely different timer. Basic remedial exercises, conducted to improve her mastery over the mystic arts.


    ¡°Good morning, Claire.¡± The squid did not bother righting her posture or looking in the chimera¡¯s direction, and her words were much heavier than usual, spoken with exhaustion woven into every word.


    A kinder soul would likely have butted in and interrupted her melancholy with words of encouragement, but Claire closed her eyes and minded her own business. The previous night¡¯s thoughts were still swirling around in the back of her mind, so fresh that it was like her train of consciousness had never been broken, and seeing the vampire¡¯s state had only added weight to her burden.


    Gritting her teeth, she turned her focus on one of the few things that she had yet to investigate, the skill that Flux had deemed beyond her means. Though reading its description had told her very little, and focusing on it provided no insight as to its details, she did glean from her investigation an interesting result. Every time she centered her mind around it, the skill would fill her head with meaningless bits of knowledge. It described eruptions, earthquakes, tsunamis, hail storms, draconic attacks, and countless other cataclysmic events. Her eyes were drawn all over, darting between the various articles and their morbid, historical notes.


    There were many pages with redacted details, but none were anywhere as exaggerated as the page detailing tempests. From the bits of text that were left, she gathered that they were storms, and that they were considered violent disturbances of the natural order, and that there had been exactly six such events throughout Mara¡¯s history. While most other disasters had been chronicled with more information than her mortal mind could handle, the mislabeled category featured only dates and coordinates, with no further explanation as to its mechanisms or potential causes. At the very bottom of the entry was even a note that explicitly marked the term as a disambiguation, and stated that they were not meant to be confused with cyclones or tornadoes.


    ¡°Did someone vandalise the article for fun?¡± Voicing the question under her breath, she opened her eyes again to confirm the news brought by her ears. Everyone but Sylvia was either stirring or already up. Natalya was doing her morning stretches, the mantis was sharpening his scythes, and Boris was idly chewing on his own tail.


    Knowing that it would soon be time to depart, Claire shrunk to her usual size and created a basket of bread. There was no reason to dwell any longer on her lack of power. She was already in the midst of solving the problem. As soon as breakfast was over, they would pass through the portal previously hidden behind the shoggoth¡¯s corpse and seek the world behind the locked door.

 Chapter 202 - Forged in Purple

    Chapter 202 - Forged in Purple


    A frown appeared on Claire¡¯s scale-covered face as she continued to walk through an impossibly long corridor. She had no idea how long they had been on the move. Her mind had gone completely numb before the third hour had ended, and the fog that had set in around them only served to further distort her sense of time. So thick was the filthy mist that she was unable to see her own two feet, let alone the stone corridor beneath her. Her inability to see, however, did not prevent her from making out the walls that bound her. She could tell exactly where they were, from the way her ears picked up the echoes left by her true form¡¯s heavy stone-crushing steps.


    At first, Sylvia had been excited by the smog. Completely enraptured by the idea of seeking out the world that lay within it, she stood on top of Claire¡¯s head for a grand total of five minutes before giving up, returning to her seat, and going straight to bed. Seeing through the veil with her magic had evidently brought nothing but sadness and boredom.


    It was not just the corridor itself that disappointed, but its inhabitants as well. The aether wisps that flooded it were completely inconsequential. They were but mindless masses of magical smoke, their levels barely reaching 40. Their bodies were so frail that most perished as soon as they came into contact with anyone possessing a concrete form. The particularly resilient among the phantoms would grow aggressive following the impact, but they were hardly a threat; a light swing of the arms was enough to disperse their bodies for good. At first, Claire had suspected that the wisps were present only to encourage them to let down their guards. That was why she had kept her ears peeled in the first place; she was confident that she could use the sounds accompanying their footsteps to avoid the traps set by the dungeon¡¯s creator and navigate towards the maze¡¯s end. But there were no traps, no spike pits, poison clouds, or swinging scythes anywhere to be seen. The path itself was just as straightforward, sporting not a single twist or turn throughout. The group was left completely unchallenged, even as they finally approached its faraway exit.


    ¡°The god that designed this dungeon is an imbecile.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know, right!? I can¡¯t believe they duped us like that! That¡¯s gotta be the most boring hallway that¡¯s ever existed!¡± shouted Sylvia. ¡°I wonder which god it was anyway¡­ I can¡¯t think of any that¡¯d make something this bad.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Claire was tempted to speak the thunder god¡¯s name in vain, but held her tongue after casting a glance at one of his faithful. ¡°Maybe the god of mountains?¡±


    ¡°Uhhhh¡­ hmmm¡­ I dunno. That doesn¡¯t really seem quite right. This dungeon¡¯s mountains aren¡¯t big or fiery enough for that,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Oh, I know! Maybe it was the wind god? Wait, does a wind god even exist? I¡¯m pretty sure the celestial for it got his head chopped off¡­¡±


    ¡°The only part of the dungeon that hinted at that was the exterior. There isn¡¯t any wind inside,¡± said the lyrkress, with a frown. ¡°Whatever. It doesn¡¯t matter. Whoever it is is an idiot.¡±


    ¡°Mhm. For sure.¡±


    ¡°Are you two sure you should be openly cursing the gods like that?¡± said Natalya, with a raw smile. ¡°You might get smited if you piss them off.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine! The one that owns this dungeon is probably already trying to kill us anyway,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°God or not, the facts stand,¡± added Claire. ¡°He¡¯s either dumb or a jerk.¡±


    Though none of the others openly agreed with the blasphemous claim, the sentiment that drove it was shared by many. Dungeons were meant to be challenges crafted by greater powers to better mortals that wished to further their growth. Tests appraising little beyond the length of one¡¯s rope were largely unappreciated, regarded as pointless, lazy exercises with little to no reward. Even the sects that professed patience the greatest virtue found themselves hesitant to praise such trials as purposeful or justifiable.


    ¡°There wasn¡¯t even a trap at the end. What was the point?¡±


    Claire voiced another complaint as she stepped out into the world beyond the misty passageway, a world built upon a field of fluffy clouds. Unlike the ones that she often flew through, the cotton balls beneath their feet were solid enough to support the weight of her true form. That, however, was not to say that they behaved as would pieces of solid ground. There was little resistance; every step came alongside an uncomfortable sinking sensation. The marshmallows would seem to give out and allow their feet to fall through them, only to suddenly harden at a seemingly random depth each time.


    While Claire, Arciel, and the rhiar were only annoyed, Natalya was outright terrified. The cat was unable to proceed at the same speed as all the others, often jumping out of her skin whenever she encountered a particularly uneven distortion.


    Her fear was not entirely unfounded. There were certainly large holes in the canopy, windows to the ever boring world below. Every other floor so far had featured a blend of mountains and forests, and the sixth was hardly any different. The only peculiarity, if one even existed, was that the trees and rocks were perfectly mixed and intermingled, with each growing out from within the other. Had they not seen the previous floors, the spelunkers might have finally acknowledged the dungeon¡¯s charm, but their prior experience prevented them from labeling it as anything but lazy, a boring rehash of the same old concepts.


    The realm above was decorated with a little more care. Not all the clouds were white. Some were pink, others a light yellow or blue. The various tones and shades blended together to paint an eye-catching illustration, a beautiful castle dyed in all the colours of dawn. It would have been a beautiful scene to behold, one that suggested the dungeon to be among the sun goddess¡¯ creations, had the sky not been flooded with misshapen monsters that in no way qualified for her approval.


    ¡°Are those meant to be birds?¡± Claire was not the only spelunker staring at the oddities. Arciel¡¯s gaze was also focused on the flying sentries, albeit more cautiously. Her staff was kept trained on the nearest flock, following it, in case it drew too close.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I think they might be part eldritch? But I¡¯m not really sure,¡± said Sylvia, with a confused tilt of the head. ¡°They look like they are, but they don¡¯t really smell right.¡±


    At the core of each individual was a single person-sized eye, connected through magical links to a silver ring decorated with runes, pinions, and additional oculi. Their bottom halves were adorned with the elements, the precise choice of which depended on the individual. One group was frozen, another was on fire, and yet another sported fierce galewinds, but whatever the case, the primordial energy appeared not to affect the monsters or their surroundings. They flew in haphazard flocks arranged with no obvious rhyme or reason. Completely lacking the triangular structure that some birds preferred, they conducted themselves almost as would a school of gigantic, airborne fish.


    ¡°There¡¯s an easy way to find out.¡± The qiligon grabbed Boris by the tail and raised him overhead.


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    ¡°Wait! I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯re ignoring us right now! Attacking them really doesn¡¯t seem like the best idea!¡± Having already anticipated the response, Natalya began shouting as soon as the lyrkress reached for her weapon. There was no doubt that the warning had been spoken, heard, and processed in time, but Claire continued regardless.


    The lizard-turned-spear flew through the air and impaled three targets. Damaged but not deceased, all three rose back into the air and shrieked at the top of their nonexistent lungs. In just one moment, every monster in the area had gone from neutral to hostile. A familiar situation that left a faint smile upon the lyrkress¡¯ face.


    ¡°I swear to Tzaarkus, Claire! Why don¡¯t you ever listen!?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Sticking out her long, serpentine tongue, the force of nature flapped her wings and leapt straight into the encroaching horde.


    ¡°There are a lot of them,¡± said Matthais with a grin. ¡°We¡¯re gonna have to form up. Lia, you join Claire in the fray. Arciel, you will be in charge of long-ranged bombardment. I¡¯ll take care of anything that gets too close.¡±


    ¡°Relax.¡± Claire spoke as she mowed through the fliers with her talons. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine.¡± The monsters began firing projectiles in her direction, but none of them landed on target. Ducking and weaving, she dove through the flock, parting it like a shark with the blade in her mouth.


    ¡°Blech! What the heck!? These things are nasty!¡± complained Sylvia. She ran to the edge of her seat and scraped the taste off her tongue with her paws.


    ¡°Why are you trying to eat them?¡± asked Claire. Her voice was clear, despite the weapon in her mouth.


    ¡°Well they kinda act like fish, so I thought that they might taste like them too.¡±


    ¡°Maybe in your dreams.¡±


    ¡°Ew, yuck! I don¡¯t wanna be stuck dreaming about eating these things. Even the leviathan was tastier!¡±


    Though the two halfbreeds were completely carefree, the rest of the group was not as unbothered. Not knowing what to expect, the Vel¡¯khanese knight stayed close to his lady. A single glance at the critters had informed him that dodging their attacks was not an option. He was going to have to block the projectiles so that they would fail to touch his master. The problem lay in Arciel¡¯s elemental weaknesses. Her species was one extremely sensitive to changes in temperature, and while she had eventually developed a resistance to the cold, courtesy of all the time she had spent in her various hideaways, heat lay outside the range of tolerance. Her choice of classes did little to pad the pain point. Fire and lightning could bypass the defenses brought by shadow and blood, and the monsters could use both.


    The upside was that his body was well-suited for the task at hand. He had been chosen from among the elites not for his lack of discipline, his warmongering ways, or his skill in close combat, but his resilience. As one raised in Primrose¡¯s essence, his exoskeleton was harder than mithril, and his scythes outclassed even chromanium blades. Paired with his five digit vitality score, his racial qualities made him a perfect shield, a bodyguard that could last through the ages. And surely enough, his defenses held true, just as they had when he was subjected to the shoggoth¡¯s assault.


    Knowing that no harm would come to her, Arciel invested her efforts on a wide-ranging offense. She raised her staff overhead, spinning it round and round as she worked her magic. Slowly, one blink at a time, the light faded from her surroundings, replaced by shadows scorned. They flooded the environment at first, but soon gathered within her staff. Hidden from the light, the umbral magic festered, its power magnifying with every breath. The growth phase lasted for exactly three seconds, a fixed time after which the floodgates were opened and everything was unleashed.


    Like a star, it shot across the sky, dragging a blanket of darkness in its wake. Every monster touched had its shadow absorbed by the curtain, and those robbed of their shadows, those made incomplete by the spell, found their bodies on the verge of collapse. Without balance between light and dark, their forms began to distort, to slowly warp out of shape as their life forces drained away.


    Few found the attack fatal¡ªthe spell was focused more on wide-area suppression than lethality¡ªbut unable to correctly manipulate their warped limbs, the affected were easy prey. Those that Natalya passed were shredded, effortlessly cleaved to pieces. Some were executed by Claire instead, though often more by happenstance than intention. Whatever the case, the deaths only fueled the mage¡¯s second act. Drawing from the veins of the deceased, she drowned the cloudy realm in blood, a crimson tide that doubled as a meat grinder. Dozens died whenever the red wave surged, and yet, there was no end to them. Another school would always rise above the clouds whenever their numbers started to dwindle, each as bloodthirsty as the last.


    The fight they had picked was not the brief extermination that Claire had expected, but rather a painfully prolonged campaign that would stall their advance and rob them of their position as the leader of the pack.


    ___


    ¡°What the hell are they doing?¡±


    Nymphetel raised a brow as she walked across the dungeon¡¯s sixth floor. She was advancing with her sword sheathed and her hood peeled back, signalling to the locals that she had no part in the ongoing conflict. Her partner, with whom she walked hand in hand, proceeded in much the same manner. The lich¡¯s staff was being used only as a walking stick, to aid in navigating the less-than-stable terrain.


    Her group was not the only one that demonstrated a lack of aggression. While most of the knights kept their weapons drawn, the particularly experienced spelunkers did exactly as the blackroot elf and hid away their arms. Many parties possessed at least one or two members that had encountered the feathered eye-monsters before. The wisewinged scribes, as they were denoted by the system, existed in a number of the plague gods¡¯ realms, their purpose to judge those that displayed open hostility. If unprovoked, they would allow visitors to pass through their domain, but upon being attacked, the entire colony would commit to fighting to the last.


    ¡°Farming experience, maybe?¡± suggested Drohkchar.


    ¡°I doubt it. Killing the same things over and over is extremely inefficient.¡±


    ¡°Most people don¡¯t care, Nymn,¡± said the lich, with a light-hearted laugh.


    ¡°I know.¡± Brushing her orange-red hair out of her eyes, the elf focused her gaze on the familiar face. ¡°But she does.¡± Nymphetel took a deep breath and recalled the various lessons drilled into her mind. ¡°They aren¡¯t the type of people to waste their time, unless they¡¯re trying to show off.¡±


    ¡°Well, she is making herself look a lot stronger than most, so it isn¡¯t as if that¡¯s off the table just yet, is it?¡±


    The undead¡¯s claim was certainly not unreasonable, but the former squire dismissed it with a shake of the head. ¡°She¡¯s being too sloppy for that. There has to be another reason.¡±


    The noble lady was not conducting herself with any of the grace that Nymphetel expected, nor was she employing any of the royal Cadrian styles. The elf did not know exactly how powerful Claire was, but she and most of the other blackroots in the duke¡¯s service had hypothesized that she was at least over five hundred, and with especially efficient classes as well. That was the only reason she was able to take on the noncombatant ritual mage class as her quaternary and outgoing facade, without losing enough power to put herself at risk.


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re not just overthinking it? To me, it just looks like she¡¯s exhausted.¡±


    ¡°Trust me. There¡¯s no way that damned aspect¡¯s only daughter would struggle against something like a group in its two hundreds.¡± The elf squeezed the skeleton¡¯s fingers as she tore her eyes from the battlefield. ¡°We should leave before she notices us. I¡¯d rather not deal with her if it can be avoided.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± Drohkchar returned the squeeze and made an attempt to pick up the pace, only to immediately trip on one of the many unseen potholes. ¡°Shush. Walking is hard sometimes.¡±


    With a pleased giggle, Nymphetel stepped forward and caught the lich in her arms. ¡°In that case, I think I might just have a better alternative.¡± Her frame was far tinier than that of the skeletons, but she was able to lift the mage up in her arms, as one would a bride at the altar.


    ¡°Now you¡¯re just being silly.¡±


    The elf ignored the skeleton¡¯s complaint and pressed their foreheads together, her lips a crescent smile. ¡°I know.¡± She picked up the pace and continued marching towards the castle with a light skip in her step. House Augustus¡¯ business was no longer any of hers.

 Chapter 203 - Forged in Purple II

    Chapter 203 - Forged in Purple II


    Her eyelids drooping and her body completely covered in blood, Claire breathed a sigh and collapsed face first into a bed of clouds. It was finally over; they were finally all dead.


    The sun had risen three whole times before she was freed from the monsters¡¯ wrath. By the second day, she had already effectively lost consciousness. Her brain had been reduced to nothing but its stem. She had relied entirely on her reflexes and lashed out at everything that got near, often recognising it as foe only after she had already made contact. On several occasions, she suddenly regained consciousness to find that she had slain not a winged messenger, but an adventurer that had identified her as a dungeon-born threat. And while she certainly did not mind the free experience, she decided to switch back to her humanoid form after trampling a fourth party. When she awoke, halfway through the final member¡¯s death, she realised that her body was covered in wounds; murder was apparently too dangerous a task for an unconscious snake-moose.


    ¡°I need a bath,¡± she muttered. Even with her sense of smell as muted as it was, she could tell that she reeked something horrible. No amount of soap could wash the rancid iron out of her hair; she was worried it would be permanently stained in a rusty red.


    ¡°We all do,¡± said Lia.


    Craning her head towards her, Claire flashed the catgirl half a glare before closing her eyes and burying her face in the clouds again. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you tired?¡± Though just as blood-soaked, the catgirl was nowhere near as depleted as the half moose. She certainly did not appear to have all her usual energy, often hesitating to move, but her eyes lacked the bags evident upon the lyrkress¡¯ face.


    ¡°I am,¡± said the Paunsean with an awkward smile. ¡°I¡¯m sore all over. I¡¯m just not as mentally fatigued because I was enraged the whole time.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said that enraging for a long time makes you lose your mind.¡±


    ¡°Only if I go beyond level two.¡±


    ¡°Lucky you.¡± Tail lazily flickering from side to side, Claire reached for the fox atop her head, but found only an empty space. ¡°Where¡¯s Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°Over here, silly!¡± When the lyrkress slowly shifted her eyes towards the cheerful shout, she found a familiar orange blob sitting atop a mountain of bloody feathers. There was another much smaller pile behind her, made of only the whitest, tiniest bits of plumage.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Making stuffed animals, duh!¡± As if to demonstrate, she picked up a nearby cloud, ripped it open, and filled its insides with down.


    ¡°...Why?¡±


    ¡°Because you guys literally took three whole days to beat up those stupid fake eggeyes!¡± Hands on her hips, the fox stood up on her hind legs and puffed out her cheeks. ¡°I was so bored that I almost wiped them out for you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d have ignored you for a week,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Wow, what the heck!? I was thinking of helping!¡±


    Wordlessly, with her face still planted in the clouds, Claire reached for the fox and pulled her towards her, but her vectors were cut short before she was able to get her hands on her prey.


    ¡°At least wash your hands first!¡± cried the kit. ¡°You¡¯re gonna get me all bloody and stuff!¡±


    Though she did summon a stream of stale water, Claire failed to clean the blood off her skin. She simply lay where she was, unmoving with the finger-cleansing fluid flowing into the clouds. She was too tired to bother; speaking and cleaning herself were too much work to be worth the investment. And it was precisely in the circumstances at hand that she began to miss her maids. If she were present, Mariabelle surely would have understood and handled both tasks for her.


    ¡°Maybe I should¡¯ve made her come with us¡­¡± she whispered, her voice trailing off.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire?¡± Sylvia moved to poke the lyrkress with a feather, but Natalya grabbed her by the shoulder and shook her head.


    ¡°Let¡¯s let her rest a bit. She needs it.¡±


    ¡°I was gonna!¡± shouted the fox in a whisper. ¡°I just wanted to check if she fell asleep or she was trying to lure me in so she could grab me.¡±


    ¡°Maybe both,¡± giggled the cat.


    ¡°Probably both,¡± agreed the furball. She cast a warm gaze on the unconscious deer before humming a bubble around her. The almost translucent delusion gently washed the dracoqilin¡¯s body, cleansing it of all its impurities before depositing her atop the mountain of down.


    ¡°Is she alright?¡± Using her staff to support most of her weight, Arciel slugged her way over and sat down atop a particularly fluffy cloud. As the resident backliner, she was not nearly as filthy as any of the others, and the occasional bits of blood that flew close were quickly consumed, both as nourishment, and to fuel her spells.


    ¡°Mhm! She should be!¡± said the fox. ¡°I think she¡¯s only like this ¡®cause this is the first break she¡¯s gotten since you guys started.¡±


    Everyone else had rested, one way or another. Arciel had napped in the shadows, Matthias had used his invisibility cloak, and Lia had effectively remained in a state that some deigned to describe as a meditative trance. Sylvia had offered the lyrkress a bubble, and Boris had volunteered to become something of a massive shield, but both were summarily rejected.


    ¡°The whole endeavour certainly was rather time consuming, but we gained quite the amount of experience,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I, for one, gained roughly ten levels in each class.¡±


    ¡°Me too,¡± said Lia. ¡°But I think we probably would have been better off stopping after the first day. The other two were barely worth half as much put together.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just how it goes,¡± said the rhiar. ¡°Not like you¡¯re gonna learn much from butchering something for the thousandth time.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I really should¡¯ve stepped in then¡­¡± muttered the fox. The claim earned her a pair of looks, both from the party¡¯s newest members. ¡°W-what?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t look strong is all,¡± said the rhiar. ¡°Maybe level 10 or 20 at most.¡±


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s rude!¡± squeaked the fox. ¡°I¡¯m way fluffier than any dumb level 20 fox!¡±


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    ¡°I thought fox levels were expressed by tail,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°Uhhhmmm¡­ I think some of them are?¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But my kind measures by fluffiness, and I¡¯m like three times fluffier than everyone else. Oh wait! I know, I¡¯ll just show you.¡± The fox took a deep breath and began singing, quietly, so as not to disturb her favourite chair.


    Alongside the heavenly hymn appeared a pair of foxes, standing side by side among the clouds. Sylvia moved to the end of the line, shook her tail to puff it up, and took the exact same pose as the two phantoms. ¡°Okay, so on the far left, you have my mom. She¡¯s really nice and all, but she¡¯s about the same level she was when she was born and it shows in how unfuzzy she is.¡±


    The model, like the individual it was based off, had exactly three fluffy tails, each just as large and poofy as Sylvia¡¯s.


    ¡°And this one is my uncle.¡±


    The second model, like the individual it was based off, had exactly two fluffy tails, each just as large and poofy as Sylvia¡¯s.


    ¡°You see how obvious it is? I¡¯m clearly the strongest.¡±


    Lia and Arciel exchanged confused glances before nodding, while the mantis shook his head with a chirp. ¡°Not at all. They both have more tails than you, and yours doesn¡¯t look any fluffier.¡±


    ¡°Ughhh! Why do you guys keep focusing on the tails!?¡± The vixen puffed up her cheeks. ¡°That¡¯s not even where you¡¯re supposed to look!¡± She pressed a hand to her chest and continued to sing, the second verse in her song more lively and vibrant than the first. Commanded by her notes, the two imaginary foxes approached each of the individuals in turn and offered their heads to be patted, with the real one following soon after. She even allowed the rude mantis, who had scythes for hands, to ruffle her fur with his knuckles.


    ¡°Now you see?¡±


    Her lips still twisted into a frown, she leapt back atop her usual seat and stood tall, as one would before a podium or pedestal.


    ¡°Well you were definitely shaggier,¡± said Lia


    ¡°Fluffier! Not shaggier! Fluff-eeeeeee-uuurrrr!¡± She stomped each time she shouted, with an excess of strength at first, and then lightly when the sleeping platform groaned.


    ¡°All that means is that you haven¡¯t cut your hair,¡± said Matthais. ¡°If you¡¯re trying to ask for a haircut, you¡¯re barking up the wrong alley. My scythes are meant only as weapons of war.¡±


    Sylvia narrowed her eyes at the rhiar before turning towards the group¡¯s final member. ¡°Come on, you¡¯ve gotta agree with me at least, right, Ciel?¡±


    The vampire squid smiled. ¡°It was immediately apparent,¡± she said, ¡°that your fur was of a much higher quality. Your head was much puffier, and I found it more difficult to locate your veins.¡± It appeared as would a genuine response at first, but she started to sweat when Sylvia kept her eyes on her.


    ¡°Ughhhhhh! You guys suck,¡± grumbled the fox. ¡°Fine, you know what? If you can¡¯t appreciate my fluffiness, then I¡¯m just not going to be fluffy anymore.¡± Sulking, she turned into a fairy and sat herself down atop the lyrkress¡¯ neck. ¡°Claire would be on my side if she was awake. Unlike you guys, she actually understands how nice and soft I am!¡±


    ¡°Sorry Sylvia,¡± said Lia with a giggle. ¡°It¡¯s probably just a racial thing, like how I couldn¡¯t tell Nymphetel was male.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just because you didn¡¯t look at his schlong!¡±


    The angry shout was followed by an awkward moment of silence, with a very confused vampire regarding the pair with her brow raised.


    ¡°It makes sense in context,¡± muttered the fairy.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure the context just makes it worse,¡± said the cat.


    ¡°No it doesn¡¯t! It¡¯s his fault for wearing clothes I can see through.¡±


    Natalya opened her mouth to speak again, but Arciel cut her off by clearing her throat. ¡°While this certainly does appear to be quite the interesting discussion, I believe we should take a moment or two to decide our next course of action.¡±


    ¡°Wait, we should?¡± the fox blinked. Thrice. ¡°I thought we were taking a break. Since uhm¡­ you know.¡± She pointed at Claire. ¡°She probably isn¡¯t gonna be waking up anytime soon.¡±


    ¡°I would love to,¡± muttered the bloodmage, ¡°but we have fallen far behind the frontrunners. The bulk of the Cadrian army may lie behind us yet, but I suspect that it is not a lack of competence that drives their pace. They are likely awaiting information such that they may make the best use of their troops. Perhaps it may be best for us to retreat while we are ahead.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really think it matters,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°The reward we are paid corresponds directly with the amount of information provided, the value of which is determined by the number of reports,¡± said the squid.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia tilted her head. ¡°Oh uhm¡­ that¡¯s not what I meant. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s gonna matter ¡®cause they¡¯re all gonna die.¡± The damning claim was made as would any other casual statement. Sylvia spoke it with her face cupped in her hands and her elbows resting atop her knees, bored as could be, while all the others reacted with a start.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± asked Lia. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure there were a few level five hundreds in the midst. I doubt they¡¯d go down that easily.¡±


    ¡°I dunno how strong they are, but uhm¡­ you know how you guys kinda struggled with the shoggoth? Well uhhh¡­ I was talking to its soul ¡®cause I was really bored and apparently it¡¯s not even really that strong compared to all the other stuff in the dungeon. Heck, the yhk¡¯huraths on the ninth floor keep shoggoths as pets!¡±


    ¡°Great. More eldritch creatures,¡± groaned the cat.


    ¡°Hey! Eldritch creatures can be adorable too! Look at Claire!¡±


    ¡°To be clear, are you implying that Claire is a sort of eldritch creature?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°Mhm! She¡¯s technically an abyssal horror though, not a cosmic one,¡± said the fox. ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t tell her I told you or else she¡¯s gonna get really mad at me. It doesn¡¯t even really matter since the category¡¯s so broad, but she gets super picky about stuff like that for no reason.¡±


    ¡°That does sound like her,¡± said Natalya, with a strained smile. ¡°But I¡¯m pretty sure she knows we all know. She told me she was an abyssal scalewarden, or something like that.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah!¡± The fox tapped one hand against the palm of the other. ¡°I guess that might mean I¡¯m not gonna be in all that much trouble after all.¡±


    ¡°None, if no one tells her,¡± said the rhiar. ¡°Anyway, let¡¯s go. I¡¯m itching to try my hand at dueling something stronger.¡±


    ¡°By Griselda¡¯s hat, Matthias.¡± Arciel sighed. ¡°What is wrong with you? You do realise that we could return with this knowledge and be the only group to survive?¡±


    ¡°Then what? Go home, wait a few months, and then have this dungeon fly by Vel¡¯khagan and wipe it off the map?¡± The mantis¡¯ mouthparts clicked. ¡°I know you don¡¯t wanna play into that fake queen¡¯s hands, but someone¡¯s going to have to blow it up if you want anything to rule over.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what¡¯s this about ruling?¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence, during which every waking party exchanged a series of confused blinks. Even Boris tried to join in on the action, but was too late and wound up left out.


    ¡°Did Claire not tell you?¡± asked Arciel. ¡°About the reason we have chosen to collaborate.¡±


    ¡°All I ever heard was that you tested each other,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°Oh crap!¡± Eyes averted and tail straight as a rod, the tiny fairy slowly backed off, slipping further and further into the lyrkress¡¯ hair.


    ¡°Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ I think we were supposed to tell you but we kinda forgot,¡± she stuck out her tongue and nervously laughed as her hips swayed to and fro. ¡°But we¡¯re kinda helping her stage a coup ¡®cause she¡¯s supposed to be the rightful heir or whatever, yadda yadda. You know, the usual story stuff.¡±


    The cat took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. It took her a moment to recover. She and everyone else stayed silent as she sat down atop a pile of down, rubbed her face in her hands, and groaned.


    ¡°You really need to tell me these things earlier.¡±


    ¡°Hey! It¡¯s not all my fault! Claire forgot too,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°I do apologize,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I was under the impression that you would have known already, and while you certainly have become one of our associates now, we would not mind if you decided not to participate.¡±


    The cat glanced at the mantis, who was already preparing for her to voice anything but an immediate agreement, before breathing another sigh. ¡°Maybe I should¡¯ve joined that mercenary band after all¡­¡±

 Chapter 204 - Forged in Purple III

    Chapter 204 - Forged in Purple III


    When Claire came to, she found herself seated at a desk with a quill in hand and an incredibly boring book propped open in front of her. Between the halfbreed and her required reading sat a thick pile of parchment, its topmost page covered in symbols she was incapable of understanding. Her brain knew how to solve exactly none of the equations, but her hands moved with all the confidence of a seer leading the blind. Without any input on her part, they leapt from question to question, filling in their respective solutions at lightning speed.


    When she tried to move the limbs, to stop them from acting on their own, they greeted her with a minor fit of resistance. Though the means of communication was unclear, she somehow understood that they were telling her that they had to finish their homework, else they would be in even more trouble than they already were.


    When Claire tilted her head, her body continued with yet another explanation, detailing that she had been grounded following the incident where she had visited the castle by her lonesome. It finished a twelfth problem in the meantime and nearly wrapped up a thirteenth, but a sudden shock dragged her fingers down the page, leaving a line of ink that ran all the way across. And she was not the only one affected. For a moment, the fake¡¯s will faded, just long enough for her to seize control. When the other consciousness returned, after a brief moment of respite, it refrained from attempting to wrestle with her. Somehow or another, she could feel that it was amused, and even excited to participate in the nonsense she had in mind.


    To Claire, it made little to no sense. The fake should have shunned her, rejected her actions for causing it needless trouble, at least if it was the sort of existence she understood it to be. When the unfiltered thoughts were conveyed, however, the fake responded with a melange of emotions, primarily a mix of sadness and excitement.


    Claire found herself struggling to understand it, but she cast her concerns aside, stood up from her seat, and stepped out into the castle¡¯s halls. Beatrice, who was standing by the door, tried to stop her from reaching the window, but she slipped past the maid and leapt out into the garden.


    When she lifted her head and looked up at the ripped, scattered clouds, she immediately spotted a witch flying towards the courtyard atop her staff. Thinking that Allegra was going to try and capture her, she took a breath and lowered her stance, but the cottontail did not slow or stop as she drew near, only continuing onwards with her face blue.


    Driven by her confusion, Claire chased the rabbit with her eyes and found herself looking upon a familiar sight. Her father was standing on the landing platform, dressed from head to hoof in an outfit that screamed of combat as its sole purpose. She had caught sight of the platinum armour many times among his other belongings, but never before had she seen it so filthy. The protective metal lacked the light with which it so often glimmered. Its brilliant sheen was dulled with dried flakes of blood, stains that began and ended with his enemies.


    ¡°Virillius!? Why are you here!? Where are all the men, and what happened to the campaign!?¡± A very confused Allegra shot him a number of rapidfire questions. Having rushed back to the manor from somewhere in the middle of town, she was slightly out of breath, panting as she struggled to sort through her confusion. But that was not the only cause of her exhaustion.


    Though his expression was as neutral as Claire¡¯s, Virillius¡¯ aura was one of pure, unadulterated rage. For a man known for his stone face, it was a rare display, so out of place that it caught the eye of nearly every individual on campus. His raw magic surged through the surroundings, distorting the air around him to the point where the halfbreed perceived him as a hazy cloud, whilst also seeing him loud and clear.


    It took not a masterful combatant to understand that he was not to be approached, but his daughter continued drawing closer, as would the dunce he had always mistakenly perceived.


    ¡°The war is over.¡± In spite of his anger, he spoke quietly, calmly. ¡°We defeated Ragnar in an assault soon after dusk.¡± He continued unaffected, even after spotting Claire in the midst of her approach. ¡°It will only be a matter of time before the results are announced.¡±


    The rabbit took a moment to look at the man, her lips pursed into a frown and her brow furrowed. ¡°Did you kill him?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Another moment with silent stares exchanged.


    ¡°Allegra.¡± The second time around, the cervitaur was the first to break the silence. ¡°I will ask you this once, and only once.¡±


    His mana grew denser; some of the curious onlookers, namely the servants and squires, began grasping at their throats and gasping for air. Claire did not join them. She felt the restriction, but it was akin to breathing underwater, inhaling whilst out of air.


    ¡°Where is Constantius?¡±


    He spoke a name that the longer moose failed to recognise. Her bunny-eared tutor, however, registered it immediately. Recognition flashed through her eyes, but she bit her lips and remained silent, taking a few moments to consider her words before answering with a shake of the head.


    ¡°He''s dead, Virillius. He''s been dead for a thousand years.¡±


    ¡°If that is your answer, then I suppose I have no other choice but to proceed.¡± He clenched his fists and turned towards the palace, his steps growing heavier as he approached the landing platform¡¯s far edge. ¡°I will have you know, I would have much rather avoided this outcome.¡± He spread his wings wide and prepared to descend, spinning around only as a magical projectile whizzed by his head.


    Its source was the cottontail. Her staff was raised in front of her, pointed straight towards the aspect. The spell that erupted from its tip was not the sort one would associate with a master so accomplished, an elementary spear of wood, no different from the sort of spell cast by the average apprentice. An explicit statement of intent signalling her loyalties.


    ¡°Please, Virillius, don''t do this. You''re chasing a ghost.¡±


    ¡°A ghost?¡± He laughed. ¡°Perhaps that may be how you see it, but I know full well that the creature I am tracking is no mere ghost.¡± Hatred flashed through his eyes. ¡°It would be more accurate to describe him as a rodent, a conniving rat that must be ended, before he may spread a plague.¡±


    There was another pause. A moment where the negotiations soured into hostilities, a moment where no attacks were launched, but dozens were prepared and considered. And yet, not a single one of the elite soldiers stepped in. Though certainly a factor, their inaction stemmed not from their confusion, but rather their respect for the parties involved. It was not their place to get involved, to step in and prevent the two old friends from arguing, only to observe the duel and sing its legends to the generations to come.


    And legendary it was.


    Allegra was first to strike. She waved her staff about and cast a spell the likes of which could instantly kill a leviathan. It was a searing ray, burning as bright as the sun. Claire thought that her skin would melt from the heat, but none were harmed in its making. The magus professed her control by focusing its effects on her foe.


    The attack aligned with neither light nor fire, but rather the advanced white magic, a higher form crafted and engineered by the sun goddess herself, available only as a rare evolution that unified three schools of magecraft as one. Empowered by the great nudist, it was one of the potent derivatives that only a mage over one thousand could possess. And it served dual purpose, its effects powerful for both offense and healing.


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    Knowing its power was what forced the cervitaur into evading. Flapping one of his wings, he pushed himself out of the way and kicked off the ground towards her. One of the canteens on his waist popped open as he charged, the blood within flowing past his shieldlance and into his free hand.


    A lesser mage would no doubt have retreated when faced with the warlord¡¯s aggression, or perhaps stood his ground if he was bold enough to assume his barriers would prevail. But Allegra was no lesser mage. Her most notable breakthroughs came not from her studies, but upon the battlefields where she needed them most.


    So she advanced.


    Assisted by the roots underfoot, she accelerated to a speed unthinkable for a pure caster and evaded his swing by diving past his blade. Sliding between his legs, she fired three blasts, three searing rays that erupted from her staff as the roots continued carrying her forward. All of them landed on target, mutilating his gut and his genitals. But not without consequence. One of his rear hooves crashed into her side and sent her tumbling through the air, a motion accompanied by a distinctive, unsettling crack.


    It was difficult to say which of the two suffered more damage. Neither fighter showed any hints of pain, and neither had taken any substantial hits. Those that knew not the cottontail¡¯s reputation, however, would likely have assumed her the clash¡¯s loser. Her spine was bent at an impossible angle; her body was folded so far back that her neck had made contact with her ankles, but she paid it no mind.


    She kept her staff focused on him and cast another spell, a flurry of projectiles formed of biting wind. They were perfectly aimed, perfectly on course to collide with his vitals and tear them asunder, but they failed to damage him. A flash of crimson light warded them off. By clenching his fist and scattering the bloody orb gathered within it, he had crafted a thin magical barrier that passively rejected all attacks whose power fell below a certain threshold. An enchantment that all barrier mages learned, once the class hit one thousand.


    Clicking her tongue, Allegra landed on the ground with her body still broken and made a beeline back into the fray. But she was not the first to aggress. A second canteen saw its contents unleashed, a disproportionate torrent of blood flowing out from within. It joined the first''s remnants in meandering towards her, seeking her throat in the shape of a stinger.


    The first strike, she dodged by snapping her body back into place. The second by leaping off the ground, and the third with a powerful gust of wind. But try as she might, she could not evade the fourth. It caught her by the throat, impaling her carotid with the precision of a surgeon.


    Blades of wind, spears of earth, balls of fire, claps of thunder, rays of light. All sorts of different spells flew at the binding, but none could damage it enough to break her free.


    So she gave up on holding back, on minimizing casualties and collateral damage, and unleashed the full extent of her arcane might.


    Pointing her staff first at the ground and then into the air, she chanted a chain of raspy words. Words that even her greatest allies dreaded to hear.


    ¡°I soar on wings of flame. My heart, the wind, my soul in stone.¡± The ground cracked. The fortress shook and crumbled as plumes of hot magma erupted from beneath her. ¡°I am the false branch that points the path, the guiding call through dark and light. And through the purest spring, I see the sparks of dawn.¡± Followed soon after by a volcano, an entire range of volcanoes, each larger than the floating island itself. The heat from their overflowing vents evaporated the cervitaur¡¯s blood whip, freeing its caster as Valencia was swallowed by a torrent of heat. ¡°Ars Magna.¡± An explosion of steam blinded its denizens with a wall of searing smoke. ¡°Scripture of the Sun.¡±


    The fiery mountaintops exploded as she chanted the spell¡¯s name, flooding the skies with ash and rock, an eruption held in place by the biting northern winds. And it was not just igneous matter with which the heavens were filled. Drops of rain formed around her molten core. Slowly at first, and growing ever faster, they multiplied to form a veritable sea, from which an elderwood sapling bloomed.


    The cervitaur did not allow her to cast unburdened. He threw spells of his own, all-consuming rays of crimson, powerful enough to shatter the mountains that supported her efforts. But she minded not. Their job had finished as soon as they had ejected their spew.


    Together, the five elements merged. The water became her eyes. The stone became her bones, the plants the muscles that supported it. The wind became her mana core. And the flame, her plumes, her all-consuming plumes.


    Sixty seconds of borrowed time.


    Sixty seconds where she could manifest the sun goddess¡¯ form.


    Sixty seconds to embody a concept and bring undeniable death by ignition.


    Anything she touched would burn until its life was extinguished, and she alone would rise from the ashes. The path of the immortal firehawk.


    Virillius knew exactly what the spell was. He had seen it dozens of times on his side of the battlefield.


    So he faced it head on.


    Charging straight at the flaming chicken-rabbit, he advanced with his shieldlance at the ready and met her beak with a mighty blow. The weapon couldn¡¯t hold under the force of her might. Nor his.


    Like most other aspects, the white cervitaur had five non-racial classes. His first two were an open secret. He was primarily a warrior, specifically a cadrian knight specialised in the use of lances, be they standalone or attached to shields. His hemomancy was not far behind. He was a true battlemage, having attained unparalleled proficiency in both close combat and long-ranged bombardment.


    His third was not nearly as widely known, but many of his knights were aware that it leveraged the fear with which his opponents saw him. The system had crowned him a ripper, a horrifying aberration of a man capable of bestowing death to all. And it was precisely upon his tertiary class¡¯ functionality that the warrior relied.


    Because he too had an ability that embodied a concept, the ability to enchant his blade to rip anything apart. He charged straight at the phoenix, and forced the two concepts to clash.


    Ars magna against ars magna.


    Severance against ignition.


    The parting of matter against its violent conversion to energy.


    The world itself almost seemed to groan, to cry and shriek in pain as it warped out of shape. Everything seemed to swirl into one as the system boiled the clash down to its common denominators. After a momentary lapse, a brief freeze in time, it finally arrived at a result.


    There was no winner.


    The two could not be compared, existing on different scales with different requirements and features. When forced head to head, neither impeded the other.


    The flames lit the blade aflame, just as it had split the fire in two. The exact result Virillius had predicted.


    It was a trade in his favour, a common shieldlance for a delicate spell and a chance to strike at the magus it exposed. Or so he had initially understood.


    He realised his mistake as the flaming curtains parted, revealing the mage contained within. Rather than focusing on the instructions given to her spell, she was instead quietly chanting another under her breath. A different Ars Magna, fueled by a second set of elements.


    Her first aria was driven by nature magic, a derivative field of study that required mastery over the schools of fire, earth, wind, water, and wood. By itself, her level 1000 nature mage class already classified her as a magus. But though she had used it to embody the sun¡¯s might, she had intentionally excluded the white magic for which Rikael¡¯s name was sung.


    The goddess¡¯ power was one of healing and vibrance. It brought energy to the world and emboldened its creatures with the spark of life, its common use far from the belligerent nonsense of war. But under the right circumstances, even the firehawk¡¯s gentle warmth could bring death. For any that flew too close to the sun were sure to melt, as sentenced by their hubris.


    It was precisely on that principle that her next spell was built. A single flare of solar energy burst through the sky. The nuclear blast hit him dead on, evaporating his entrails and reducing his lower half to an ashen blob. The rest of his flesh bubbled, violently, as everything inside of him boiled to a thousand degrees. Another ars magna. The only spell from the class that consumed her third and fourth slots.


    But Virillius survived.


    His body reformed in a blink of an eye, and it was not just him that saw the outcome reversed. His armour was back to how it had been at the start of their encounter, and even his shieldlance had returned, its condition perfectly pristine. The weapon was already in motion, driven with such force that it cleaved the very sky in two.


    Allegra dove at him, past the blade again, but the blood flowing from his canteens caught her in midair and coiled around her body. When she tried to cast, to break free of the bonds, the man grabbed her by the neck and held his weapon against it.


    The battle was over.


    And he had come out on top.

 Chapter 205 - Forged in Purple IV

    Chapter 205 - Forged in Purple IV


    Claire sprang up as her eyes shot open, a cold sweat dripping down her brow. Though her body¡ªher real body¡ªlacked the sensitivity to heat that the fake had possessed, she could still feel the searing hot ash against her skin. She was not the only one caught in the attack. Like the lyrkress, most of the soldiers had been too busy observing to even think of escape. Claire would surely have been among them, had Durham not moved her to a safe distance in record time.


    He brought her all the way outside the city¡¯s limits. And yet, her skin had still been burned. The spell¡¯s absurd range proved not only to the lyrkress, but all of Valencia that the cottontail¡¯s title was just¡ªthat she alone deserved to be known not as a magus, but the Grand Magus.


    ¡°They¡¯re still too far ahead.¡± Claire took a moment to stare at the shard in her chest before raising her head and scanning her surroundings. The world was moving, slowly drifting along as her bubbly prison trailed behind its vulpine master.


    ¡°Good morning, sleepyhead!¡± The fairy flew up to the lyrkress and happily whirled around her, zipping to and fro with all the speed and excitement of a hungry mosquito.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t morning.¡±


    ¡°It might be!¡± said the fox.


    ¡°It¡¯s clearly night.¡±


    The moon was out; Griselda was among the stars with her hat sloppily equipped and the various pieces of her body messily strewn around her. Even within the dungeon, her form was perfectly reflected, just as it was everywhere else. Her divine power, like that of the sun goddess¡¯, allowed her to be seen on her journey so long as one looked up at anything that could be interpreted as a sky.


    ¡°That¡¯s just ¡®cause that¡¯s how this floor is!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And I¡¯m pretty sure you only see the moon right now ¡®cause she¡¯s being weird again. I think she¡¯s been there for like 10 whole hours already.¡±


    ¡°Griselda is generously blessing us with her presence for reasons that mere mortals are incapable of understanding,¡± said Arciel. ¡°We should be grateful.¡±


    Claire shot the squid a sidelong glance before returning her eyes to her surroundings. The moonsworn devout was standing at the rear with her knight, while Lia was in front. Claire, Sylvia, and Boris were in the middle of the pack, the fox casually hovering along, and the other two floating behind her. Around them lay a dark forest, with one mountain already marked with their footsteps and another standing directly in their path. A revelation that provided not even the slightest hint of surprise.


    ¡°Which floor is this?¡±


    ¡°The eighth,¡± answered the cat. ¡°And good morning, Claire. I¡¯m glad you¡¯re finally awake.¡±


    ¡°How long has it been?¡±


    ¡°Uhhhh like a whole day? Maybe half a day? We don¡¯t actually know,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But it¡¯s always night here, and sometimes it gets foggy randomly, kinda like that place in Skyreach Steppe you never went.¡±


    ¡°You mean the rocky island?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that one!¡± The fox giggled. ¡°Oh! And I¡¯m pretty sure the mist here is more poisonous, but it¡¯s not really hurting anyone that much.¡±


    ¡°It puts a dent in my health regeneration, but I don¡¯t actively take damage. The same goes for Matthais,¡± said Natalya.


    ¡°But not her?¡±


    Claire glanced at Arciel, who puffed up her disturbingly voluptuous chest with pride. ¡°I am capable of filtering it out of my blood with my magic. It poses no threat whatsoever.¡±


    ¡°Right. Blood magic.¡±


    The nonchalant dismissal left the sea creature, who was expecting praise, to awkwardly deflate and cover her face with her fan. None of their other companions had taken notice of the blush, but Claire caught it loud and clear. The reflective lizard sitting in her path provided an excellent view of everything that lay behind her. Claire had expected Boris, who had clearly never dealt with a status condition in his life, to be especially disturbed by the poison, but he was unbothered. The ikarett type arms was casually basking in the moonlight, perfectly relaxed with his lids occasionally sweeping past his eyes.


    ¡°Oh, Boris is immune to status effects,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Or at least I¡¯m pretty sure he is, ¡®cause I was trying to give him night terrors when I was bored the other day and it didn¡¯t work.¡± There was a brief moment of silence as all the eyes in the party slowly centered on the fairy. ¡°W-what?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes,¡± said Lia, ¡°I think that you might be even scarier than Claire.¡±


    ¡°Huh!? What¡¯s that supposed to mean!?¡± cried the fox. ¡°I¡¯m not scary! I¡¯m fluffy and adorable! Oh! Wait!¡± She zoomed in front of the lyrkress'' face. ¡°Claire, Claire!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± asked the lyrkress, as she checked her own reduced health regeneration.


    ¡°Who¡¯s the fluffiest fox you¡¯ve ever met?¡±


    There was a brief moment¡¯s pause, wherein the moose silently crawled out of her bubble and got to her feet.


    ¡°Uhm¡­ Claire? Who¡¯s th¡ª¡±


    ¡°I heard you the first time,¡± said the chair. ¡°I was thinking about it.¡±


    ¡°Huh!? Why would you need to think about it!?¡± Sylvia¡¯s tail shot straight into the air as she raised both arms in protest. ¡°I¡¯m clearly the fluffiest one ever, right!? No one else even comes close!¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so sure.¡± The lyrkress adjusted her clothes, shifting it from armour into a more comfortable, hooded cloak. Saying nothing more, she pulled the leather over her ears and obscured her face. ¡°Are there any monsters worth killing?¡±


    ¡°Hey, wait a second! You can¡¯t just change the topic like that! Answer me already!¡± cried the desperate fairy.


    ¡°There¡¯s no point. It¡¯ll just make you mad.¡±


    ¡°Huh!? Wait, Claire!? Are you trying to say I¡¯m not fluffy enough!? I thought you knew and appreciated how soft and comfy I was!¡±


    ¡°I do.¡± The scalewarden pinched the fairy¡¯s face and scratched the top of her head. ¡°But either way, this isn¡¯t the time for this.¡± Though she tried to be brief, she made sure to get all the places that the tinier halfbreed enjoyed. Or at least the ones she enjoyed as a fox. She wasn¡¯t quite sure how the fairy¡¯s form would affect her comfort, but ignored the difference on account of making herself feel awkward.


    ¡°What¡¯s that even supposed to mean!? Stop trying to dodge the question!¡±


    ¡°It means what I said.¡± She pinched the fox¡¯s lips shut before spinning her around and turning her towards a distant light. ¡°Listen closely.¡±


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ for what? I mean I hear a few voices but it¡¯s just some voices and stuff. Oh, and some fire, but that¡¯s pretty normal too.¡±


    ¡°I said, closely,¡± muttered Claire. ¡°Whose voice do you think that is?¡±


    ¡°Ohhhhh! I get it now! You¡¯re talking about the thing that has to do with the thing that has to do with buttstuff.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    ¡°What are you two talking about?¡± asked Lia, on behalf of the very confused, somewhat disturbed group.


    ¡°This.¡± Claire lifted her left hand and focused on the contract. Its mark soon manifested, the yellowed symbols proving that both parties¡¯ obligations were still pending. ¡°There¡¯s something I have to do for Pollux. So I can bind him to our agreement.¡±


    ¡°There is?¡± Lia blinked, her eyes shifting between the moose¡¯s hand and face. ¡°How come you never told me?¡±


    ¡°Because we negotiated the deal the morning we left.¡± Claire tightened her grip on Boris¡¯ tail and started walking into the woods¡ª¡°I¡¯ll split off and catch up once I¡¯ve wrapped up my business.¡±


    ¡°Wait, hold on!¡±


    ¡ªbut Natalya grabbed her by the shoulders before she could wander too far.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have to split up. We can help.¡±


    The Paunsean¡¯s earnest gaze was met with a stare cold enough to send shivers down her spine. A glint even more reminiscent of his than usual.


    ¡°Don¡¯t volunteer if you don¡¯t know what you¡¯re getting yourself into.¡± Claire tried to shake the hand off, but Natalya stayed firm.


    ¡°Then tell me what you¡¯re planning.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Why not!?¡±


    ¡°Because I don¡¯t feel like it.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t explain anything!¡± The trembling catgirl tightened her grip on the shorter girl¡¯s shoulders as her teeth dug into her lips. ¡°I thought we were supposed to trust each other.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°This isn¡¯t a matter of trust, just something you¡¯re better off not knowing.¡±


    ¡°I want to know anyway.¡± Seeing her emerald eyes burning so brightly, the mooseblood heir could only raise a hand to her face and sigh.


    ¡°While it certainly pains me to disturb the two of you in the midst of your discussion, I must inform you that the circumstances have changed.¡±


    Following Arciel¡¯s fingers, the lyrkress moved her eyes in the direction of the fox¡¯s snout. Through the darkness walked a single silhouette, accompanied by a lantern just weak enough not to fully illuminate him through the haze.


    ¡°Can you please shut the fuck up? We were trying to sleep.¡± The words were spoken in a clear, almost melodic voice.


    ¡°Hello, Nymphetel,¡± said Claire. She curtsied at him, her lips a crescent moon. ¡°What a wonderful coincidence.¡±


    Having failed to validate the speakers¡¯ identities prior to making contact, the newcomer soon found himself stuck in a staring contest with a certain familiar lady.


    Said lady¡¯s mind coursed with annoyance as she looked upon him. Because of the commotion, he had not only caught wind of them, but confirmed that it was her group and not some other. Their shared history only drove him to further raise his guard when she needed it lowered.


    ¡°Good evening, my lady. It is always a pleasure,¡± he said, with his back suddenly straightening. ¡°I am terribly sorry for the rude interruption, but I wish to request that you lower your volume. We are in the midst of recovering after a long day¡¯s journey and would greatly appreciate the ability to rest in silence.¡±


    Any sensible person would surely have complied with the ask and perhaps even found themselves feeling embarrassed. Claire, on the other hand, replied with a giggle.


    ¡°Oh, Nymphetel, you silly elf! That is not the correct way to ask anyone for anything. If you wish for us to quiet down, then you will have to defeat me in a duel.¡±


    It was an absurd, insane request, the sort of unreasonable demand that one would immediately assume nonsensical, but the blackroot elf merely pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, and massaged his temple with the other.


    ¡°If you win, we will quiet down as you have asked of us. If I win, however,¡± Claire continued with a smile, ¡°then you will have to follow one of my orders instead.¡±


    ¡°What is it that you desire, my lady?¡± he asked, with a suspicious glare.


    Claire smiled. ¡°Your capture.¡±


    ¡°I request additional info¡ªah, fuck it. I¡¯ve had enough talking nice. That naggy bitch of a maid isn¡¯t here to scold me, so I¡¯m not even going to bother,¡± he grumbled. ¡°I need details. ¡®Cause it¡¯s starting to sound like you¡¯re working for that damned marquis.¡±


    ¡°I am. He wants you as a sex slave.¡±


    The response sent a shiver up the man¡¯s spine. ¡°I would rather live with the noise than be bedded by him,¡± grumbled the elf, ¡°or any other man for that matter. You do realise I¡¯m still a guy, right? Even with this ridiculous curse?¡±


    ¡°Wait a second¡­ is this the thing you weren¡¯t telling me anything about?¡± asked Natalya.


    ¡°I told you,¡± muttered Claire, ¡°that you wouldn¡¯t want to get involved.¡±


    ¡°No I uhm¡­¡± The cat¡¯s face twisted as she looked between the Cadrians.


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait!¡± Sylvia darted between them and pointed a finger straight at Nymphetel¡¯s nose. ¡°You¡¯re a liar, Nymmie! You were just doing it with Droksie!¡±


    The elf¡¯s face turned beet red, the blush creeping all the way up to his ears. ¡°W-why do you know that!?¡±


    ¡°Because we could hear you, duh!¡± said the fox. ¡°You guys were loud as heck!¡±


    ¡°So you do prefer men?¡± Claire cocked a brow, her face twisting into a grin. ¡°I¡¯m sure Pollux would be incredibly pleased to hear the news.¡±


    ¡°I suppose this would be the reason Admiral Ray¡¯esce warned us against working with members of house Augustus,¡± whispered Arciel, to her knight.


    ¡°I heard it went just as poorly for you,¡± replied the mantis.


    ¡°That is a matter of perspective.¡±


    ¡°With all due respect, Princess, she destroyed our HQ.¡±


    While the sea creature and her knight debated under their breath, the elf continued to avert his gaze, his face growing ever pinker. ¡°Drohkchar is a woman,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°Ohhhhh¡­ Wait, how¡¯s that work anyway? Do skeletons even have lady parts? I mean I know that skeletons can have kids with the other races, but like, I dunno how that works, biologically?¡±


    ¡°Sylvia, that¡¯s perverted!¡± scolded Natalya.


    ¡°Oh, shush! There¡¯s nothing wrong with being curious! I just wanna know for science, and I bet you were thinking about it anyway.¡± The fairy paused for a moment before turning to her mount. ¡°Actually, I think Al probably knows¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not asking him for you,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Awww¡­ come on. Aren¡¯t you curious?¡± asked the fox.


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Can you kindly shut the fuck up already?¡± said Nymphetel, with a groan. ¡°This is a blatant invasion of our privacy.¡±


    ¡°Hey! It¡¯s not my fault both of you were moaning super loud!¡± shouted the fairy.


    ¡°Please stop,¡± muttered the elf, his face buried in his hands.


    ¡°And plus! I¡¯m still not sure that part about the not bedding guys is true ¡®cause you kept calling Droksie your bone daddy!¡±


    ¡°Oh, for the love of the gods!¡± The elf groaned into his hands. ¡°Claire Augustus. I accept your duel, but under a different condition. I want you and everyone else here to forget everything you heard tonight. And for you to ensure that this wretched creature never speaks of this again.¡±


    ¡°I accept,¡± said the lyrkress, her lips twisted into a grin. ¡°Good job, Sylvia. You lured him in.¡±


    ¡°Huh? I was just being honest! It isn¡¯t even my fault! Blame Nymmie!¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± said Nymphetel. ¡°And stop calling me that. If you have to use a nickname, it¡¯s Nymn.¡±


    The elf picked a position a few dozen paces away from his opponent and drew his weapon. One hand sported a tiny buckler, while the other featured the same crimson sword he had used before. Its edge had been restored, resharpened and uncurled by one blacksmith or other.


    Moving opposite him, Claire drew Boris with one hand and beckoned for him to engage with the other. This, of course, drew the forest dweller¡¯s suspicion. Nymphetel narrowed his eyes, glancing around the environment before giving into her provocation and kicking off the ground like a rabbit. It was his usual speed, his usual style, and Natalya¡¯s usual mistake.


    Because while most of his body lurched forward, a vector pushed his ankle and moved it the opposite way. He continued to move, but not in the direction he hoped. His air-breaking momentum carried him straight into the ground and earned him a mouthful of dirt.

 Chapter 206 - Forged in Purple V

    Chapter 206 - Forged in Purple V


    ¡°You didn¡¯t need to come.¡±


    ¡°I wanted to.¡±


    ¡°Of course you did.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re making it sound like I¡¯m being dishonest.¡±


    ¡°You are.¡±


    A four-legged Claire and a slightly less four-legged Natalya walked side by side as they advanced through the misty woods. Accompanying them for their journey were two additional actors, one the elf placed upon the lyrkress¡¯ back, and the other the fairy fluttering through the air. Sylvia had played a key part in Nymphetel¡¯s incapacitation. It was her bubbles that bound his hands, and her magic that had sedated both him and his less-than-enthused partner.


    ¡°I really did want to come,¡± said Natalya. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t do something like this unless you had to.¡±


    The feline was not the only volunteer mailman; the other two had also offered to come along, but Claire had refused on the grounds of keeping an eye on Drohkchar. It was a flimsy justification, but they agreed to leave her alone and give her the space she required to conduct her bloody business.


    ¡°She¡¯s got a point!¡± agreed Sylvia.


    ¡°What makes you think that?¡± asked Claire, with a tilt of the head.


    ¡°Because if you really hated Nymn, you would already have killed him,¡± replied the cat, with an awkward smile. ¡°And if you didn¡¯t, you would¡¯ve left him alone.¡±


    The lyrkress opened her mouth to refute the claim, but shut it again without a word.


    ¡°Let me guess.¡± Lia twisted her lips into a confident smile upon confirming the moose¡¯s lack of a retort. ¡°The marquis is threatening to report back to your father and is using the contract as a way to force your hand.¡±


    Claire paused for a moment to cross her arms before she nodded. ¡°Something like that.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia tilted her head. ¡°Wait a second. I thought you were only going after Nymn ¡®cause you were worried about him being a loose end.¡±


    ¡°He kept his end of the bargain. Pollux already would¡¯ve known if he didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ oops.¡± Sylvia shifted her hands behind her back and turned her eyes on a nearby shrub.


    ¡°What did you do?¡± asked Claire. She positioned herself in front of the fairy to give her the usual skeptical stare, but the tiny vulpine fluttered into the sky to avoid meeting her eyes. ¡°Sylvia?¡± she asked, slightly more sternly.


    ¡°N-nothing!¡± stuttered the fox. ¡°It¡¯s just that I¡¯m starting to think I wasn¡¯t supposed to give Droksie nightmares.¡±


    Claire sighed. ¡°You weren¡¯t. I told you that you were just supposed to put her to sleep.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­. well I have some good news and some bad news,¡± she said, with a nervous laugh.


    ¡°Why do you keep insisting on giving people nightmares?¡± asked Natalya. ¡°It seems a little mean spirited.¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m bored! Out of my mind!¡± grumbled the fox. ¡°This dungeon sucks! It¡¯s like the most boring dungeon ever. Even Farenlight¡¯s was more fun.¡±


    ¡°Was it? This one¡¯s monsters are stronger,¡± said the cat.


    ¡°Yeah, but the environment is like literally always the same!¡±


    ¡°We have more companions this time,¡± said Lia. ¡°That¡¯s bound to make it at least a little bit better, right?¡±


    ¡°I mean, kinda? But also not really? I¡¯m still bored out of my mind.¡±


    Claire grabbed the fairy by the tail and gave her stomach a poke. ¡°Quiet down. We¡¯re here. And turn back into a fox while you¡¯re at it.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Why?¡±


    ¡°Because I said so. Do you want to be snuggled or not?¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnnfff¡­ okay, fine. You win this time.¡±


    The fox was not the only one to transform. Claire followed suit, discarding her lyrkrian shell for one that appeared much more humanoid whilst foisting her cargo onto her feline companion. It was as close as she could get without running the risk of exposure. The Cadrian camp¡¯s patrols would notice the sudden change in her footprints if she got any closer.


    It took another twenty-odd minutes of navigation to reach the temporary stronghold. It stood out from all the others not only because of its size, but because its perimeter was decorated with the banners of many a Cadrian house. To most in the know, it was an intimidating sight, proof that the unit was backed by some of the country¡¯s most powerful men, but Claire continued forward without a single shred of caution. She walked right up to the guards, as would someone that belonged.


    The men regarded her with suspicion at first, but quickly relaxed as she pulled back her hood.


    ¡°Good evening, Lady Augustus.¡± One soldier greeted her with a nod. Like all the others, his eyes were not on her face, or even her chest, but her ears.


    She performed a picture perfect curtsy before pressing one of Farenlight¡¯s horns in the fox¡¯s paws and speaking by proxy. ¡°Good evening, gentlemen. I would like to deliver a prisoner at the Marquis¡¯ behest. Might I be shown inside?¡± She looked at each man in turn, eyes upturned, ears fluttering. The motion was just subdued enough to look accidental, so that the fault would be theirs if they mistook it as an act of courtship.


    ¡°Of course,¡± said one man. ¡°Would you like me to show you to the commander¡¯s tent?¡±


    ¡°That would be wonderful! Thank you so much!¡± Her face lit up and her ears twitched again. A direct hit on the guardsman¡¯s heartstrings, powerful enough to flush his face crimson.


    ¡°Right this way, my lady.¡± His friends and comrades in arms kicked him in the leg or playfully smacked him in the back with a little too much force, but he ignored them and began walking her through the camp, their jealous glares only further fueling his ego. ¡°This should be it. Excuse me for just one moment. I¡¯ll make sure they get to you right away, my lady.¡±


    ¡°Thank you Castor!¡± Another innocent smile, accompanied by a faint blush as she played with her hair. Her eyes were shimmering and her gaze was flicking back and forth. An outstanding act by any standard.


    ¡°Y-you know my name?¡± The soldier¡¯s eyes opened wide.


    ¡°Of course! How could I ever forget?¡± said the fox, as she pouted.


    Castor¡¯s thoughts likely would have been different had he known that she was contemplating his murder, but in that moment, he could not help but envision himself as the first and only man to lay hands on the untouchable jewel, a future where he rose to succeed the greatest general known to history. But alas, his fantasy was cut short when his superior appeared from within the tent and quite literally kicked his ass out of the way.


    ¡°Lady Augustus. I would appreciate it if you refrained from flirting with the men.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be silly, Sir Belen. I am doing no such thing,¡± said Sylvia, as Claire continued to smile. The moose glanced into the tent, through the open flaps, before continuing. ¡°Is the lieutenant out?¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, you¡¯ll have to make do with me,¡± said the bespeckled baron. ¡°Both the boss lady and her second in command have stepped out for a bit to do a bit of field work.¡±


    ¡°Awww¡­ what a shame. I wanted to give them my regards.¡±


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°I can certainly see that done for you.¡± Stroking his beard, he turned his attention to the elf slung over her back. ¡°Now I take it we have matters to discuss? Would you like to come inside?¡±


    ¡°That would be wonderful!¡±


    ¡°Then please go right ahead. After you.¡± He opened the tent¡¯s flaps for everyone else to enter before following suit himself. ¡°I do apologize for the lack of courtesy. Unfortunately, we do not have a seat of honour set up right this moment. You are free to take any that happens to catch your eye instead.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay. I don¡¯t really mind.¡± Almost skipping, she walked to the opposite side of the room and positioned herself atop a large, centaurian folding chair. Natalya seemed a bit confused as to where to go at first, so Claire patted the spot beside her and kept smiling, even as the cat wound up snuggling against her. Too close for comfort.


    ¡°How did you know their names?¡± whispered Lia, as the military man prepared his writing utensils.


    ¡°You learn a lot if you listen closely,¡± replied the longmoose.


    ¡°She means she heard them ¡®cause their friends were saying them and stuff,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°And was any of that really even necessary? It seemed a little¡­ over the top.¡±


    ¡°Of course. That¡¯s how they think I am.¡± With one last whisper, she straightened her back and looked ahead again, just in time for Belen to finish sorting out his tools.


    ¡°Excuse the mess. We were just sorting through some new intel,¡± he said, with a calm smile. ¡°Am I correct in assuming that this is about the prisoner?¡±


    ¡°Wow, Sir Belen, how did you know?¡± asked not-Claire, eyes wide. They were the exact same words she would have otherwise used, albeit spoken in a completely different tone.


    ¡°Call it experience,¡± chuckled the greying knight.


    ¡°How I wish I was as experienced as you. Father rarely gives me the chance to accrue any for myself.¡± With the saddest of pouts, the sheltered princess flicked her tail from left to right, and in doing so, smacked Nymphetel off the cat¡¯s shoulder. She scrambled to try and catch him, but missed, and could only stare as he fell onto the floor headfirst. ¡°Oops.¡± Her face turned as bright as a rose as she momentarily handed off the fox, lifted the prisoner with some difficulty, and propped him up beside the table. ¡°Marquis Pollux told me I was supposed to catch Nymnphetel and bring her to his men.¡± She lifted her hand and presented Flitzegarde¡¯s mark. ¡°So here I am.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± He cocked a brow, but shook his head soon after. ¡°I suppose that does sound like something the master would want,¡± the baron breathed a sigh and shook his head. ¡°Well in that case, consider her delivered. You may leave her anywhere.¡±


    The mark on Claire¡¯s hand greened as the words left the man¡¯s mouth. Her half of the deal was complete; the marquis was god-bound to speak nothing to her father.


    ¡°In that case, I shall be leaving her right here. Thank you very much, Sir Belen.¡±


    ¡°You are very welcome, Lady Augustus,¡± he said. ¡°Did you happen to have any other business items to address?¡±


    ¡°Not today. I will be taking my leave shortly,¡± she said, as she rose from her seat. ¡°I hope that the tides of war may flow ever in your favour.¡±


    The old knight laughed. ¡°I will not be done in by any monsters, my fair lady. There is no need to worry.¡±


    ¡°It is not the monsters that are my concern.¡± She curtsied, then left the room and the camp soon after. Along the way, she continued playing the part of an innocent maiden, doing her best to fight back her shyness, so she could wave back at all the men that greeted her, but her demeanor changed as soon as she exited the camp. Her smile turned into a frown, and her joy pure annoyance. Lia tried to talk to her, but she pinched the cat¡¯s mouth shut and advanced, until the eyes on her back finally went away.


    ¡°Get ready to fight,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Fight? What for?¡± blinked the cat, as she was finally released.


    The scalewarden twisted her lips into a ferocious grin. ¡°Did you really think I was going to let Pollux have his way?¡±


    ___


    ¡°Psssst. Nymn! Wake up!¡±


    Nymphetel furrowed her brow as she awoke to a strange, ticklish sensation. Her mind was still hazy and unclear, focused on the meal she had in her dreams. She could no longer recall exactly what it was, but she was under the impression that it was home cooked, made by none other than her boney bride.


    ¡°Nyyyyyymmnn! Come on!¡±


    The itching sensation grew stronger. It almost felt like there was someone tickling her face with a feather, a very on-brand prank indeed.


    Slowly, Nymphetel moved her hands, ready to launch into a tickling assault, but soon found that they were unable to part. Both her wrists were stuck behind her, bound by something or other, something softer than rope, and more moist as well. She tried opening her eyes, but her vision stayed dark. Her eyes were covered by the very same substance that kept her hands tied together.


    ¡°Nyyyyyyyyynmnmn!¡±


    That was when she finally recalled the circumstances surrounding her slumber. She had foolishly challenged the monster¡¯s daughter to a duel and lost her freedom. The ramifications had failed to sink in at first, her head too hot to internalise them. But they hit home as she realised her helplessness. She was unable to break the chains. Her prided strength stat did nothing, and her agility hardly proved any better.


    There was nothing she could do to escape her jailer.


    Tucking her knees close to her chest, the elf began to tear up, tiny drops at first, with bigger ones following soon after. She didn¡¯t want to accept it. But she was going to be turned into a man¡¯s toy. Her greatest fear, since the day the world had suddenly ceased to recognize her manhood. And even worse, she had to say goodbye, all because the blood had gotten to her head, just as it had back then.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Charlotte,¡± she said, with a sniffle. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry¡­¡±


    ¡°Dammit, Nymn! Stop ignoring me!¡±


    A sharp pain shot its way through her body as her forehead was struck by some sort of object. Shaken and extremely confused, she looked in the attack¡¯s direction, albeit to no avail.


    ¡°W-who¡¯s there?¡± she asked, with a nervous gulp.


    ¡°It¡¯s me! The fox that put you to sleep! I just wanna talk!¡±


    For a moment, the Cadrian trainee clenched her teeth and balled her hands into fists, but relaxed after taking her next breath. She would not allow them to further soil her dignity. ¡°I have no words for you, slaver.¡±


    ¡°Okay, so uhm, I know we¡¯ve kinda looked pretty mean so far, but it¡¯s not really as bad as it seems. Promise!¡± said the fox. ¡°Since you¡¯re technically already in their care now, it isn¡¯t gonna be our fault if you happen to break out.¡±


    The blackroot elf scoffed. ¡°Break out? Of a Cadrian camp? I wouldn¡¯t be a squire if I was capable of something that impressive.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry! Claire said she¡¯s pretty sure you can do it, and we¡¯ll help once you make it into the trees.¡±


    Nymphetel narrowed her eyes. ¡°And if I can¡¯t make it that far?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ uhh¡­ erm¡­ good luck!¡±


    With a few waves of the paw, the fox removed Nymphetel¡¯s bindings and teleported her equipment into her hands. Everything was present. Her armour, her shield, her sword, all in even better condition than when it had been taken from her.


    When she looked up from her gear, which she had immediately started to equip, the sprite was already gone. She had vanished alongside the magical barrier around them, exposing her to the world, and further asserting that she could rely on no other but herself. While it appeared that the puppet masters had at least some degree of confidence, Nymn herself lacked the blind faith. Escaping would have been easy, had she been a high elf. She could have easily asked the trees for their aid. They would have guided her through the forest and brought her to safety¡ªnot that such an ability would prove necessary, had she the requisite ascension.


    Her lips twisted into a frown, the blackroot elf wiped the tears off her face and slipped on her helmet. It limited her visibility, but a decrease in her field of view was a small price to pay for a disguise that hid her features. The elf snuck out from beneath the tent¡¯s fabric after double checking her gear. She quickly got to her feet and began marching through the camp, boldly, as would any other Cadrian warrior. There was one problem, a problem she failed to realise until half the soldiers¡¯ eyes were on her.


    She was not a centaur.


    Unlike Duke Augustus, who called all outstanding citizens to his employ, Marquis Pollux had a clear preference for those that were of the same species. Nearly everyone was a horse-man or some variant thereof. Deer, donkeys, and rams were abundant, and there was even the odd fighter with the lower body of a pig. While there did happen to be the occasional bipeds wandering about, they were so few in number that they were sure to be recognized. And recognize the blackwood elf, the soldiers did not.


    She was approached first by a group of three, each armed with a long, fullmetal spear. All its members were true centaurs, their humanoid tops protected by thick sheets of leather, and their legs guarded by thick metallic skirts.


    ¡°Identify yourself, name and number.¡± The decorated commander at the front spoke to her in a loud, booming voice. Though his stance was neutral, his eyes revealed that he was ready to strike at a moment¡¯s notice. The aura he exuded was one of confidence; he was convinced that Nymphetel would submit.


    But she didn¡¯t.


    While she certainly did bend a knee, it was only to empower the lunge that followed. She flew through the air with enough speed to shatter the sound barrier and plunged her sword towards his neck.


    His reactions were surprisingly slow; he failed to raise his weapon in time and fell in just a single blow. His second in command, however, was not as sluggish. He readied his spear immediately and jabbed it towards her gut, but she parried it with her buckler and kicked him in the leg. The next target, she assaulted with her blade. Leaping into the air, she split his head in two and splattered his brains all over her armour.


    She charged again when she landed, springing off the ground as nimbly as a squirrel. A centaur dashed towards her, raising his sword to cut her in two, but she twisted past it, spinning her body around and kicking him straight in the gut. She bounced off his back right after, but found a wall of arrows lying in wait. One of the archers had unleashed a barrage with no regard for her allies. Her wind-blessed projectiles soared through the camp, piercing centaurs and tents, but not the elf that was her target.


    Nymn bounced right off of their shafts, using the bolts like springboards to adjust her trajectory as she leapt through the air. A monumental, exhausting effort that failed to amount to a kill.


    She could already tell, as the archer slipped out of her grasp, that it was going to be a long, long night.

 Chapter 207 - Forged in Purple VI

    Chapter 207 - Forged in Purple VI


    It was right in front of her. The forest was so close that Nymn could practically feel the undergrowth beneath her feet. It was only a few dozen paces away, perhaps a hundred at most. Those less familiar with her school of swordplay were likely to assume that she could make the distance in a single bound, but her movement abilities were not as freeform as they appeared. She was forced to dash exactly twenty meters each time she accelerated, and every charge was followed by a moment of recovery. But it was not because of a lack of speed that she was routed. The centaurs beat her with numbers. Someone would appear out of nowhere to block her path each time she found an opening, ready to receive her with their weapons drawn.


    The first three times it happened, Nymn was able to spin around and escape a perfect enclosure, but her fourth attempt was sloppier than its predecessors. She was quickly encircled, imprisoned in a ring of centaurs, with the bricks used in its construction already in the midst of running her down. They rushed straight at her, swinging their blades like the barbaric madmen they were. Most of the assailants were unfamiliar, but some were beginning to register, to engrave themselves into her mind as horrifying monsters she needed to avoid. Because their numbers hardly ever diminished.


    Their abundance stemmed not from some freakish ability to multiply, but rather a lack of finality. Of the fifty-odd horsemen that had tasted her blade, only seven found themselves deceased. Her lack of raw power was a factor that could not be so easily dismissed, but it was not the driving force behind her inability to kill. The problem lay instead with her style. The Royal Cadrian Springblade was too commonly known. It was a household name, a school whose strengths and weaknesses a five-year-old could recite.


    They knew exactly how to dodge her attacks to best minimize the damage received, and they even knew the fixed distance of her lunges. Every warrior that approached her had a buddy standing behind him, ready to strike as soon as she initiated her straight-line dash. Had she been a master of House Evander¡¯s art, she surely would have been able to overcome the limitations, or perhaps worked around them with raw skill, but as a lowly squire with a class level of only four hundred, she was bound by their rules, held prisoner by the contracts that allowed her to surpass the speed of sound.


    Still, she cut through her foes. All five of the men that rushed her were met with kicks and slashes, heavy attacks that robbed them of their weapons or limbs. She kicked off the ground upon disabling them and made for a hole in the encirclement. The sideways centaur made an attempt to correct his posture as she closed in, but she lowered her stance and dove between his legs.


    For once, the opening led not back into the camp, but closer to the forest. The mad dash that ensued carried her all the way to the camp¡¯s outermost limits, but she was surrounded again before she could escape. A score of soldiers emerged from the treeline, ready to stab her the moment she tried to pass them by. Her enemies¡¯ reinforcements proved a powerful deterrent. While hers were nowhere to be seen. Glancing into the darkness revealed nothing but the usual purple fog.


    The elf cursed under her breath as she parried a spear with her shield. She had no one to blame but herself. There was no reason to trust any of the slaver¡¯s words, but she had mistakenly assumed them to be the truth. Reflecting upon the circumstances, she realised that the fairy could have easily shown her to her destination, but she had actively chosen against it in favour of vanishing by her lonesome. She had intentionally left her behind.


    So that she could create a spectacle.


    Nymn finally understood. Their purpose was not to let her escape, but to turn her into a distraction, something that would throw off her former countrymen and draw their eyes away from their schemes. While they went about their business, she would be forced to suffer through a desperate last stand, to struggle against death with every last fiber of her being. It should have been obvious from the onset, but she was too much of a fool to see through the ruse, too naive to suspect that she was yet again being played like a fiddle.


    Dark emotions surged from within her chest. She could feel her heart twisting, warping, as she clenched her jaws and parried a wave of arrows. It was not the first time that she had been used and thrown away, and she was not about to let it be the last.


    It was then, right as she began contemplating vengeance, that the missing help finally arrived. A sword made of pure ice suddenly sprouted from one of the soldier¡¯s chests. The weapon¡¯s influence spread quickly. It froze his body from the inside out, turning his blood to ice, and beckoning the rest of his flesh to follow soon after.


    The spell¡¯s source, the ownerless blade, was cleaved up through his frozen skull, tearing his body to tiny, irreparable bits.


    It sought another target as it broke free from the first. The mare to its right blocked the self-wielding weapon with her shieldlance, but her comrade¡¯s fate befell her regardless. Her body began to freeze, a condition that started with her head and quickly grew outwards, leaving her as a brittle broken shell.


    Next to perish was the stallion that had her back. Even without interacting with the blade, he was turned to ice and completely disintegrated, just like everything else in the area around him.


    ¡°Run.¡±


    The command was loud and clear, spoken from right beside her ears, but Nymn hesitated to obey. There was no telling where listening would get her. For all she knew, she would go down the rabbit hole and find herself deeper and deeper in trouble, stuck in a pit with no rope or ladder.


    ¡°What are you waiting for, idiot? Hurry.¡±


    She obliged as she was prodded in the back. Whatever awaited her was unlikely to be worse than being violated by the marquis. Her heart pounding, she dove into the trees. A dozen spells chased after her, their elements a veritable rainbow. She ignored her flesh catching fire, she shrugged off the roots that grabbed her feet, and endured the arcane blasts that pierced her armour. She pushed and pushed and pushed, pressing forward until her body passed through a strange, invisible film. It was flexible to the touch, only letting her in when she consciously tried to pierce it.


    ¡°There you are! Finally!¡±


    The fairy appeared as the moist sensation faded. She was hovering in place, her tiny arms crossed and her equally tiny legs dangling beneath her.


    Nymphetel was so distracted by the annoyed foxgirl that she nearly forgot about the projectiles destined to strike her rear. Gasping as she recalled them, she spun around with her shield raised. But her worries were needless. The attacks failed to make it past the magical veil. They bounced off, detonated, or in some cases, outright vanished with no rhyme or reason.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, my bubbles are way tougher than some dumb beams and bolts.¡± The fairy puffed up her chest with pride and lightly wagged her tail, her face a gloating smile.


    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you get me out with one of them earlier?¡± asked the elf.


    ¡°Uhh¡­ Hmm...¡± Slyvia placed a hand on her chin and tilted her head. ¡°I dunno.¡±


    Nymn brought a hand to her temple and clenched her teeth. ¡°Stop fucking with me.¡±


    ¡°I would not be so concerned, Nymphetel. She has not antagonised you. Sylvia merely lacks the intellect to correctly communicate her ignorance.¡± Claire suddenly appeared in the space beside her, a bloody ice blade in one hand, and a flagbearer¡¯s pole weapon in the other. As useless bits of garbage, both were carelessly thrown to the ground and kicked into the undergrowth.


    A catgirl stood right behind her, furiously scribbling away at her notebook with all the focus of an imperial scholar. Nymn caught only a few brief glimpses of the letters written, but they were accompanied by a detailed sketch of the Cadrian encampment whose parts were clearly labeled like the diagrams in a doctor¡¯s office.


    ¡°Hey! That¡¯s rude!¡± shouted Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯m not dumb! How am I supposed to know what you¡¯re thinking!?¡±


    ¡°Through the powers of deduction, of course.¡± The lyrkress flashed the fox an endearing smile before turning back to the elf and bending her knees in a curtsy. ¡°I am terribly sorry Nymphetel, for employing you as a display.¡±


    ¡°I knew it,¡± grunted the elf. ¡°Let me guess, you went around sabotaging the camp while I was stuck fighting. After I leave, you¡¯re going to lie in wait for the marquis and eliminate him before he realizes that he¡¯s under attack.¡±


    ¡°Ohhh¡­¡± said Sylvia. ¡°That does kinda make sense now that I think about it¡­¡± The fairy was lifted by the scruff and given an eerily loving scratch.


    ¡°Sylvia, oh Sylvia, you sweet summer child,¡± said Claire, before turning to the blackwood elf. ¡°The purpose of this exercise was to ensure that Count Pollux would be thrown off our trail.¡±


    ¡°Yours, maybe, but not mine,¡± said the elf. ¡°He¡¯s just going to start putting more effort into coming after me now that he¡¯s confirmed my limits.¡±


    Claire smiled innocently. ¡°I would not be so worried, my dear friend.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s easy for you to say.¡± The red-headed elf scoffed before sitting down on a log, arms crossed and face twisted into a frown. ¡°So? What do you want from me? What was the point in this whole song and dance?¡±


    A hand was held out to the squire, with the glowing green symbol on top in plain sight.


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    ¡°I would never intentionally bring you harm.¡±


    The squire met the blatant lie with a look of disbelief.


    ¡°I was merely bound by the terms of a contract I could not avoid,¡± continued Claire. ¡°And nothing would bring me more joy than for you to find it in your heart to forgive my misdeeds.¡±


    ¡°Are you crazy? Hell no!¡± shouted the elf. ¡°I¡¯ve had enough of your bullsh¡­¡±


    His voice trailed off as his body suddenly floated off the ground and slowly began drifting towards the barrier¡¯s edge. There were centaurs aplenty on the other side, carefully investigating his footsteps with their weapons drawn.


    ¡°I do apologize for the outburst, Lady Augustus. Your wish is my command,¡± he said, with an audible gulp.


    ¡°Oh, Nymphetel! I knew you would understand.¡± She clasped her hands together and smiled. ¡°It is no wonder that we have always been such great friends.¡±


    ¡°Claire, could you please knock it off with the acting?¡± asked Natalya. ¡°You¡¯re doing the expressions a little too well and it¡¯s weirding me out.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said the lyrkress, without moving her lips. ¡°Now, my dear friend, I will grant you a favour for your troubles, as is the tradition for one who so selfishly inconveniences a knight.¡± She slowly inched Nymn forward, moving him ever so slightly closer to the barrier. ¡°Please, state whatever it is your heart desires, and I shall do my utmost to see it granted.¡±


    Nymphetel did not answer immediately. Gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, he took a moment to consider his options. ¡°My fair lady, nothing would please me more than the honour of serving at your side.¡± The man¡¯s luscious lips twisted into an impish grin. ¡°Please, allow my companion and I to join you as your knights so that we may safeguard you in your travels.¡±


    Claire paused for a moment to blink, to slowly tilt her head at the man as his face was squashed against the barrier.


    ¡°You do realise that doesn¡¯t really help your situation, right?¡± Completely breaking character, Claire dismissed the vector pushing him forward and cocked her brow. ¡°I could¡¯ve easily just said yes and ordered you back into them.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that part didn¡¯t hit me until I was halfway through voicing it,¡± said the elf, with a grimace. ¡°I couldn¡¯t think of anything else, so I figured I might as well commit.¡±


    Claire shrugged as she yoinked her fairy out of the air and placed her on her shoulder. ¡°You could¡¯ve feigned a stutter, easily at that.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait!¡± Sylvia pulled on one of Claire¡¯s ears and shook her head back and forth. ¡°What the heck just happened!?¡±


    ¡°Use your brain and figure it out,¡± replied the other halfbreed. ¡°Now come on. Let¡¯s go, before their higher-ups get back.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what? Huh? I don¡¯t get it¡­¡± said the fox.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Sylvia, I don¡¯t either,¡± said Natalya. ¡°And it¡¯s not like Cadrians ever really make much sense to begin with.¡±


    ¡°I make plenty of sense,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°The two of you are just dense.¡± The somewhat feline pair exchanged glances before turning their eyes back on the accuser, who responded with a roll of the eyes. ¡°He,¡± she pointed a finger at the squire, ¡°is an elf. Figure the rest out yourself. Idiots.¡±


    ¡°Huh? But I¡¯m an elf too!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I don¡¯t see how that has anything to do with anything!¡±


    When no answer came, she looked towards Nymphetel, who was trailing just a bit behind the others. He shifted his eyes immediately to evade her expectant gaze, but she darted right in front of him and stared until he eventually gave in.


    ¡°She knows I know,¡± he said.


    ¡°Huh? What¡¯s that supposed to mean, and how does that have anything to do with being an elf!?¡±


    ¡°I actually think she explained it pretty well just now,¡± said Natalya.


    ¡°Huh!?¡±


    The fairy¡¯s confused fluttering was met with an awkward smile. ¡°Sylvia, do you know what elves are like outside Lly-eerm, your home?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ not really?¡± said the fox, with a tilt of the head. ¡°Al didn¡¯t have too many books with elves in ¡®em ¡®cause he said they were too vanilla.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± The cat flipped through her book and pressed the back of her quill against one of its pages. ¡°So I guess you really don¡¯t know, but elves have a bit of a reputation.¡± The cat peeked up from the journal, but shifted her gaze back down as she realised that both the knife ears¡¯ eyes were upon her. ¡°Well uhm¡­ they¡¯re¡­ err¡­uhm¡­¡±


    ¡°Enlightened. She means to say we¡¯re enlightened.¡± Nymphetel finished the feline¡¯s sentence with an annoyed frown. ¡°But the other races don¡¯t quite understand.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Sylvia tilted her head as her tail fluttered from side to side.


    The pureblooded god-denier eyed her for a moment, focusing his attention on her ears before opening his mouth. ¡°You see, halfbreed, there happens to be a horrible secret that few dare to speak, but it¡¯s known to all elves, of all lineages, passed from mother to daughter and father to son strictly through word of mouth. We may not be of the same blood, but if you are unaware, then it falls to me to make sure you are.¡±


    ¡°Wait uhmmm¡­ is it just me, or did your voice just get like three times deeper? You kinda just went from sounding like a cute girl to a scary, old wizard.¡±


    ¡°The gods do not exist. They are but constructs crafted by the system to deceive us and prevent us from awakening to our true potential.¡± His voice boomed and his eyes glowed with a fierce light as he continued like a man possessed. ¡°It would not be incorrect to deem them as figments of our collective imagination. And precisely because we believe in them, the system finds itself tasked with spoofing them to ensure an unbroken continuity.¡±


    ¡°Uhhhh¡­ I¡¯m pretty sure that isn¡¯t right,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I mean like, Griselda¡¯s right there!¡± She pointed up at the sky, where the moon goddess loomed.


    ¡°That is a rock in outer space.¡±


    ¡°I mean, yeah! Everyone knows that Griselda¡¯s a rock! We can literally see her!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And plus, she has a hat! And she even forgets to wear it some nights! There was this one time like three years ago where she flew up into the sky in just her panties! Rocks don¡¯t do that unless they¡¯re people!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I meant when I said that the system bullshits us,¡± said Nymphetel, his voice finally regaining its usual androgynous quality. ¡°It inconsistently creates different images of a moon by reading from our collective subconscious and manifesting our desires as reality. If we all stopped believing in the moon, and I mean truly denying its existence, it would soon vanish into thin air.¡±


    ¡°Now you¡¯re just being silly! The moon¡¯s just like that ¡®cause she¡¯s a derpy goddess being derpy!¡±


    ¡°If you truly believe that, then you will be needing a thorough reeducation.¡±


    ¡°No thanks! You¡¯re just gonna make me dumber!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe she¡¯s never been lectured by an elf before.¡± Lia closed her journal and looked towards the lyrkress, her lips a small smile.


    ¡°The only one she ever knew was her father.¡± Unlike the one and a half bickering idiots, whose eyes were focused on the moon, Claire was scanning the forest for threats. ¡°And he¡­ serves the goddess of the flow as one of her warriors.¡± The air was much heavier than it had been when they had first set out. A faint purple mist had spread throughout the forest, and while it had no effect on visibility, each breath came hand in hand with a minor twinge of discomfort.


    Log Entry 10706


    You are now familiar with and capable of producing Amethyst Rotdust.


    ¡°An elven paladin? I can¡¯t say I¡¯ve heard of any of those before.¡±


    ¡°His whole party was made up of nothing but weirdos.¡± Smiling, Claire magically yoinked Sylvia away from the nonsensical elf and tasked her with leading the way.


    It took about an hour for the group to reunite with its detachment. Arciel, who happened to be standing by while her guard bathed in the river, curiously looked between the four individuals whilst sipping a cup of warm blood. Its source, an unfortunate purple wolf, was in the midst of being roasted, its skinned carcass slowly rotating above an open flame.


    ¡°I was under the impression that she would not be returnin¡ª¡±


    An ear-piercing scream cut the vampire off before she could finish her sentence. Its source was the skeleton that lay by the flame. Within the span of five seconds, she went from perfectly still to screaming and back to still again, a cycle that repeated again while Nymphetel looked on in horror.


    ¡°Charlotte!?¡± His breath stuck in his throat, he ran to the lich¡¯s side and cradled her in his arms, right as she shivered and screeched again. All without waking from her slumber. ¡°No! What have you done to her!?¡± When his eyes settled on Arciel, they were filled with raw hatred, burning with a lust for brutal vengeance.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s actually my fault.¡± Sylvia averted her eyes. ¡°She¡¯s okay! Just having some really bad dreams.¡±


    ¡°Would you mind fixing her?¡± asked Arciel. ¡°I cannot say I appreciate the accompanying acoustics. And as can be easily surmised,¡± she pointed her fan at their half-cooked dinner, ¡°it is attracting unwanted attention.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­ Sorry.¡± The half-dog stuck out her tongue as she floated over to the undead creature and lightly tapped her on the forehead. ¡°Okay! She¡¯s not gonna wake up right away, but she¡¯s not gonna scream anymore either. Oh, and don¡¯t worry. I also made it so she¡¯s not gonna remember any of it.¡±


    ¡°You can do that?¡± asked Natalya, with a low grumble.


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Wait, uhm¡­ Lia? Why do you look so mad?¡±


    The cat slowly stomped towards the tiny, floating fox, her veins bulging and tail violently cleaving away at the undergrowth.


    ¡°Why do you think? I still see the creepy octopus guy in my dreams sometimes!¡± cried the Paunsean.


    ¡°T-that¡¯s not my fault! He probably just likes you!¡± Fearing retribution, the fairy flew behind Claire¡¯s head, rotating whenever necessary to keep the cat on the other side. ¡°And he¡¯s still gonna show up and say hi even if I make you forget! There¡¯s no point!¡±


    ¡°Why would you do something like that to me in the first place!?¡±


    ¡°Well it¡¯s not my fault! I didn¡¯t know you were gonna last this long! I thought Claire was gonna stab you in the back right after you joined us!¡±


    ¡°Shut up. Both of you.¡± The lyrkress grabbed both the animal girls with a grumble, Sylvia by the tail, and Natalya by the head. ¡°Stop shouting so close to my face.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault!¡± cried the fox. ¡°I¡¯m totally innocent! It¡¯s Lia¡¯s fault he likes her so much!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the one that sicced him on me in the first place!¡±


    Claire folded her ears in. ¡°I said, shut up. Not keep shouting.¡±


    Both immediately tried to speak again, so she pinched their mouths shut as she turned back towards the vampire. ¡°Any problems? Besides these idiots.¡±


    ¡°None,¡± said Arciel. ¡°But we did happen to run into a group on their way back to the Cadrians. They were willing to share an interesting bit of news, about what they found on the floor below.¡±


    ¡°And what would that be?¡±


    ¡°Intelligent monsters,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Strange, eldritch monsters, wielding weapons seemingly forged of the purple mists themselves.¡±

 Chapter 207.5 - Prelude of Storm III

    Chapter 207.5 - Prelude of Storm III


    ¡°What in Vella¡¯s name?¡±


    Fausta crossed her arms as she took a long look at the devastated campsite laid out in front of her. Half of its tents were completely destroyed. The provisions contained within were spilled all over the temporary base. Many of the sealed containers were broken open, pierced with arrows, stamped with hooves, or cleaved with blades. Whatever the case, the artifacts were ruined. The magic circuits that kept their insides refrigerated relied almost entirely on the continued existence of their closed loops.


    Their weaponry was much better off. While there was certainly the occasional broken spear or shattered shield, most of it was still usable if not pristine. The men themselves fell closer in line with the state of their sustenance than they did that of their equipment. Just over twenty were dead, fallen to the foe that had caused all the chaos. Of the two dozen corpses, four could be made out, but the others were impossible to identify, mangled far beyond the point of recognition.


    ¡°Welcome back, Lieutenant. It pains me greatly to report that we¡¯ve unfortunately encountered a minor setback in your absence.¡± Her third in command, Baron Germanus of House Belen, greeted her with a crisp salute. ¡°I have prepared a report detailing the incident, should you find yourself with a moment to look it over.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t be bothered. Give me a quick summary.¡± She grabbed the papers and tossed them overhead, leaving vice commander Nero to receive them in her place.


    ¡°I¡¯ll look over them shortly. Thank you, Sir Belen,¡± he said.


    ¡°You¡¯re very welcome.¡±


    The troops that had accompanied the two officers on their expedition murmured to each other as they looked over the ruined tents. Some began mouthing off theories, but they were immediately silenced when Fausta stomped a hoof into the dirt. Even though they stood at two to three times her size.


    ¡°So? What happened?¡± she asked.


    ¡°We were handed a prisoner roughly four hours prior. Nymphetel Blackroot.¡±


    ¡°The one the boss was asking for?¡± Fausta crossed her arms and voiced a number of internal complaints about the elf and her tiny ears.


    ¡°In the flesh.¡±


    ¡°And? What happened after?¡±


    ¡°She broke free from her bindings less than an hour after her arrival,¡± stated the soldier. ¡°We mobilized the camp in an attempt to subdue her, but met an unexpected degree of resistance.¡±


    ¡°That tiny elf caused this much damage?¡± Fausta raised a brow. ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem right. I know the general¡¯s good at seeing potential, but I doubt she¡¯s even cleared basic training.¡±


    The pony closed her eyes and briefly recalled the days she had trained at Augustus Manor herself. It was far tougher than anything the Marquis¡¯ troops experienced. There was a time when she was no different from the elf. She too had been stuck in a rut, unable to progress through her development and awaken to the potential that the general had seen.


    ¡°She pulled out one of her trump cards when she realised that we had her cornered,¡± said Germanus. ¡°Section 2-3 should contain everything we saw of her abilities. They largely appear to be centered around the manipulation of some sort of strange magic. It was a blade of ice, perhaps sourced from some sort of blessing, given its disproportionate lethality and remote operation.¡±


    Though excited at first, the tiny centaurian commander deflated almost immediately upon hearing out the details. ¡°Ice? Why the hell¡¯d it have to be ice?¡± she said with a sigh. ¡°Elves are supposed to pick wood, or maybe fire or water if they¡¯re feeling spicy.¡± Pressing a hand against her forehead, she threw her hair back and breathed a sigh. ¡°Whatever. At least it¡¯ll be easier to catch her.¡±


    ¡°Catching her doesn¡¯t seem like the best of ideas,¡± said Nero, as he skimmed through the documents. ¡°It isn¡¯t worth it.¡±


    The pony scoffed. ¡°Where¡¯s your ambition, kid? We catch her, the boss gives us one hell of a fat bonus, and we all go home happy.¡±


    ¡°At the cost of how many lives?¡±


    The young stallion¡¯s glare was met with a chuckle. ¡°Standing up and thinking for yourself is good, kid, but you¡¯ll have to do better than that,¡± Fausta grabbed the recent hire by the uniform and pulled him down to eye level. ¡°Listen up kid. Real warriors don¡¯t fear death. We court and tease it, we play with it until it goes soft, and then twiddle it in our thumbs some more.¡± The analogy was less than appreciated, but she ignored his distaste and pointed behind him. ¡°And it¡¯s probably worth mentioning that the men don¡¯t appreciate your concern nearly as much as you might think.¡±


    A quick look around confirmed the older centaur¡¯s claims. The gazes fixed on Nero¡¯s back were cold, judging. He was not just a coward, but a coward that had insulted their pride.


    Though it was not uncommon for a family of noblemen to force a child or two to join the military, Cadria had never once in the past thousand years endorsed the practice of conscription. Its armed forces were made of volunteers, warriors that had chosen to stand upon the battlefield of their own volition. And while none hoped to be needlessly sacrificed, each sought a chance to prove himself on the battlefield, to rise above his foes triumphant even when the tides were against him. Such was the tale of many of their revered¡ªthe heroes that emerged from within their ranks and saw to the deaths of their greatest foes.


    ¡°Yeah, I know,¡± said Nero, with a grimace. It was not as if he was unable to understand them. He was Cadrian too. ¡°But it¡¯s an officer¡¯s job to make sure that their men¡¯s lives are put to good use.¡±


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    ¡°Nice one.¡± Smiling, the tiny pegataur stepped up onto a broken shield and thumped the younger centaur on the back. ¡°For the record, it¡¯s not like I don¡¯t get what you¡¯re trying to say, but you really need to keep using that head of yours.¡± Fausta tapped the shieldlance strapped to her back. ¡°If the men can¡¯t do it, then we¡¯ll just have to wrangle her ourselves.¡±


    ___


    From his place in the heavens above, Glarchst observed the mortal realm with a careful eye. It had been many long years since his first dungeon was last invaded. The fault, he knew, was largely his. Skyreach Spire was one of the few stains on his otherwise perfect record. The veil he wrapped it in was a fault from its very inception, a flawed design whose filter deterred not the wind mages he had hoped to intimidate, but rather all manners of mortals with flesh too brittle to break through the storm.


    Of course, he could have easily weakened the winds or perhaps forged a path through them, but he chose to keep the abject failure exactly as it had been on the day that it was made. Whenever he sought to create another dungeon, he would first look back upon his prior mistake and remind himself of the oversights that he would do well to avoid. The only alteration he eventually made was to its location. Plucking it from its original place, he lifted the dungeon high into the skies so another could make use of the real estate it consumed. There, above the clouds, it was left to its own devices, freely drifting along the aether with the wind its only guide. And for a while, that was how it remained. Completely devoid of all life, save for that of which was born within.


    From his blunders, the second of the seventeen plague gods learned a series of valuable lessons. The hundreds of dungeons he spawned, following his first, were much more carefully crafted. Known for his infamous attention to detail, he was sung praise by those that survived his tests, with some even placing him within the divine collective of muses upon deciphering the layers he put into his work.


    Farenlight¡¯s Den, his three thousandth and fourteenth creation, was intended to prove itself one such multifaceted masterpiece. But alas, it was not meant to be. He had known for three years that its demise was inevitable. Flux, the goddess of the flow, had divined its path and informed him of the matriarch''s removal far in advance.


    He knew that it was a consequence driven by her hand, but chose not the path of confrontation. He owed her many favours, and while he certainly did have high hopes for the ikaretts and klimgors, the den was not a dungeon to which he had any particular attachments. It was just another one of the many that had been sealed by the locals; its development was stunted, and the martiarch¡¯s growth delayed by a six digit factor. He hadn¡¯t quite lost interest, but neither did he find it worth his constant watch.


    He likely would have seen his spark reignited upon returning to it in a few centuries, but the enjoyment he would have derived trailed far behind what he had gained in its place. Because Flux had run her predictive algorithms and confirmed with near absolute certainty that his ambitions for Skyreach Spire would finally be fulfilled.


    While certainly somewhat conflicted, given the sheer time it had spent as his deterrent, the plague god gave in to his urges and overloaded it with changes aplenty. The shoggoths, for one, were removed from the first eight floors. He left only a single individual so that the more intelligent amongst his guests would be wary of the horrors that awaited beyond the second last gate.


    Still somewhat concerned that his tuning was off, he sent his followers far and wide, so that he could measure his challengers through their eyes and better adjust the monsters in his domain. Misunderstanding his directive, as mortals so often did, many priests and acolytes found their premature ends at the hands of those they were meant to tail, but the former sewer rat was unbothered. Such fates often befell fools, and those that practiced his worship were not always the most intelligent. To deny the natural order would be to deny the path that he had taken to godhood, and he was not so ignorant as to be blind to the countless corpses he had left in his wake.


    While his faithful had proven themselves relatively useless, he had at least gleaned from their observations the relative power of some of his foes. The average combatant appeared to hover in the range of level three hundred. Some were more powerful, and others less, but for the most part, the range appeared fairly strict. Save for a single individual.


    The raid¡¯s organiser was a centaur over 700, and one that proved every bit as powerful as the numbers may have suggested. All the worshippers he sent to spy on the man were promptly eliminated, with not even the veterans nearing level 500 lasting for more than a few seconds.


    As an organiser and creator of dungeons, he saw the man as a pain in the neck. It was impossible to correctly balance the encounters with the overpowered horse in the fray, and outright removing him by way of a level limit went against his principles. Glarchst had always scorned the gods that employed such mechanisms as careless and inattentive. He was not about to take from their books.


    That was why he had tested his chosen champion and rewarded her with the perfect tool to see the centaur eliminated, an all powerful relic blessed with the might of the god himself.


    At the time, it appeared as would the perfect idea. But in retrospect, he would find that it was an unnecessary precaution and a complete waste of divinity.


    For he was not Flux. And the future was as mysterious to him as it was to any of mortal flesh.


    ___


    It was a summer day no different from any other. When Virillius stepped through the castle¡¯s halls, his heavy steps bounced off the thick stone walls and returned to him in the usual manner. Equally as static was the way the blazing sun filtered through the stained glass windows. Each pane featured an original masterpiece produced in a land long conquered, their artists'' names as lost to time as the political commentary illustrated therein.


    The rest of the castle¡¯s cast was going about their everyday business. Maids, butlers, and knights were wandering through its halls, attending to whatever matter their masters ordered. Some stopped to greet or bow, but none dared to stop the general with a lengthier conversation.


    It was every bit a perfectly normal day.


    Even though the grand magus had submitted her resignation earlier that morning.


    Like the letter in Virillius¡¯ hand, Allegra¡¯s declaration was not one that would immediately find its recipient. King Ferdinand was still far away from his throne. His cross-country journey was scheduled to take him to every major settlement, but chances were, he would soon throw his itinerary to the wayside and return to the capital. His spymasters were sure to bring him news of the unsavory developments unfolding within Valencia¡¯s walls.


    News of the duel, for one, had spread like wildfire. In just a day, all of Valencia had learned that Virillius and Allegra had encountered a difference of opinions and subsequently resolved it in the very same way that any two warriors would.


    Of course, it was impossible for the citizenry not to know. Allegra¡¯s massive spell had caused a disturbing amount of damage. While none had outright perished in the attack, many were injured, and an even greater number saw their property at least partially destroyed.


    The state footed the necessary bills as usual, and repairs were already underway. The freshly retired Grand Magus was among the workers, doing her utmost to fix the things that she had broken. Virillius had tried to speak to her, to bring her into his cause, but the cottontail had refused, stating that she would never see him again lest he vowed not to follow through with his plans.


    And follow through he did.


    When Ferdinand returned, he would find that his nephew had voiced a claim to the throne.


    A declaration that could only be met with a vow of submission or a duel to the death.

 Chapter 208 - Tentacles and Ashes

    Chapter 208 - Tentacles and Ashes


    ¡°The god that designed this dungeon is an imbecile.¡±


    Repeating the thought that had escaped her mouth a few days prior, Claire tore her eyes from the magical portal floating in front of her and looked towards the dead gargoyle at her feet. When she first engaged the stone-skinned creature, she had expected it to pose as much of a challenge as the shoggoth. But unlike the eldritch slime, which had nearly wiped out the party by its lonesome, the dark forest¡¯s most powerful monster had proven to be anything but a worthy opponent.


    Its capacity for combat simply did not exist. Any individual capable of surviving the amethyst rotdust was also capable of taking it down. The lack of difficulty stemmed almost entirely from the monster¡¯s complete and utter lack of participation. Even while under attack, it sat with its legs crossed, its eyes closed, and its hands resting on its knees. Its single-track mind was too busy with the dispersal of its magical poison for it to even consider the foes that threatened to reap its life.


    ¡°Could you please stop saying that out loud? You¡¯re going to get us smited,¡± said Natalya.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry Lia! I think it¡¯s probably gonna be okay,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Gods can¡¯t smite people that haven¡¯t sworn to them unless it¡¯s like really really bad.¡±


    ¡°Insulting a god¡¯s intellect after seeing their handiwork seems almost exactly like the sort of thing that would cross the line,¡± said the cat. ¡°Tzaarkus, at least, would never allow it.¡±


    ¡°I believe that to be because the god of thunder is one of the less forgiving,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Griselda would not even consider a mere insult or two to be a transgression.¡±


    ¡°Tzaarkus is very forgiving. He just happens to be a little stricter when it comes to certain mannerisms.¡±


    ¡°That just means he isn¡¯t actually forgiving,¡± muttered Claire.


    It had been a day and a half since she had sent a less-than-willing Nymphetel off to prison, and while the operation itself was a success, there existed not a world where the two groups would subsequently join as one. The couple had retrieved their things at dawn and left with only a few brief words of farewell. Natalya was somewhat disappointed by his departure, while Claire experienced little beyond pure elation. He may have been one of her father¡¯s handpicked, but his personality was far too great a price to justify his skill with the blade. To her, his presence was far more stress-inducing and obnoxious than it was comforting and familiar.


    While he was off doing whatever elves and skeletons did together in the great outdoors, Claire¡¯s group continued to push through the dungeon at an accelerated pace. Still, they were unable to clear the eighth floor in just one day. The Evernight Sierra, as Sylvia had dubbed it, was a step up from its predecessors in terms of scale, spanning not just the usual two mountains or three mountains, but an entire range of tiny peaks. Had they been in a rush, they likely would have been able to make it all the way to the end in just a few hours on Claireback, but the moose had refused on grounds of butchering the local wildlife.


    The eighth floor¡¯s monsters were certainly more powerful than those they had encountered on the preceding levels, but the increase in their strength came with a proportional increase in their scarcity. They came across maybe one group every other hour, a far cry from the almost constant waves they had faced when exploring Headhydra¡¯s home. Still, despite being far fewer in number, the amethyst gargoyles held not a candle to the shoggoth at the end of floor five. But for what they lacked in raw strength, magical or otherwise, they made up with speed, intelligence, and coordination. They were so smart in fact that they wore armour made of other monsters to protect themselves against Boris¡¯ fangs. Some were durable enough to take dozens of hits and serve as a model for the Cadrian¡¯s own defensive ventures.


    And that was precisely why she was so disappointed in the miasmatic stonelord that was their progenitor. She had been hoping for a far greater challenge, a creature that was to the gargoyles what the corruptor had been to the borroks, something more difficult to kill, something that would further her mastery of her various forms. But all she received was a pacifist willing to present himself on a silver platter.


    ¡°Cheer up, Claire! At least he was worth a bunch of experience, right?¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Hardly. I barely gained a quarter of a level.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! That¡¯s plenty for a big dumb rock that didn¡¯t fight back. Especially since you guys are a party of four. All that means is that he was worth an entire level, all by himself.¡±


    Shrugging, Claire gestured for the others to follow as she stepped over the gargoyle¡¯s foot and approached the reality-warping door. Seeing through to the other side was not impossible, but the image lacked anything in the way of meaningful clarity. All the half-snake could really make out was that it was every bit as purple as the corrupted woodland in which they stood. There were a few scattered bits of brown, likely trees, but she was unable to determine their types or relative sizes.


    ¡°I¡¯m ready to leave. Any objections?¡± she asked, as she placed a hoof through the portal.


    ¡°None,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°I think we should be fine to proceed,¡± agreed Natalya.


    ¡°Good,¡± said Claire. ¡°Boris?¡±


    The lizard nodded when he heard his name, and after tearing off another gargoyle arm with his jaws, began to follow in her wake. He appeared rather fond of the stoned monsters¡¯ flavour. While not quite capable of eating as much as Sylvia, he shoved their bodies into his gullet whenever he was given the chance, sometimes even devouring so much that he vomited, only to eat again right after.


    When the party emerged from the other side of the gate, they found themselves greeted by yet another forested mountainscape. Conceptually, it was identical to the floor that preceded it, a bunch of rocks with long wooden things growing on top and a thick purple smog polluting the world. If there was one obvious difference to immediately call to question, it was that the night was a permanent fixture no longer. The sun was out, only mildly obscured by the overcast skies.


    ¡°Wow!¡± Sylvia stood up from her seat and cast her gaze over the horizon. ¡°I thought this floor was gonna be just as bland and boring as all the others, but it¡¯s not actually that bad!¡±


    The time of day was not all that differed between the two realms. The style of their construction and precise methods of implementation varied as well. This was immediately reflected in the mountains¡¯ shapes. Many peaks were taller, and their slopes were less gentle. There were still some that could easily be climbed, but for each surmountable summit, there were a dozen others that could not simply be conquered by a ground dweller. Each measured in at a completely different height, from just a few hundred meters off the ground to dozens if not hundreds of kilometers in the air. Their widths, however, were not as diverse. Most were a hundred meters across at most, often with small springs or reservoirs on top, flowing down into the foggy abyss below.


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    Naturally, such an environment was no longer conducive to the standard tree variants that had conquered the previous floor. The few boring old maples and oaks still present resided only atop the flattened summits. The rest of the trees were a lot hardier, pines and conifers that grew without any soil, sprouting directly from the crags themselves.


    Even with the mist obscuring nearly everything below, Claire could tell that floor nine was far more populated than the one that came before it. Her ears caught all sorts of different animals strewn throughout the space. Many of them were winged, flying in formation and moving in unison as they claimed the skies as their own, but the mammals and lizards each held their own non-negligible domains. They were darting around through the undergrowth, or perhaps stomping it down, loudly, with no hint of stealth or restraint.


    ¡°It feels cluttered,¡± said Claire, with a twitch of the ears. ¡°There are other parties here too. A lot of them.¡± Their competitors could be heard at almost every turn, locked in combat with the local wildlife.


    ¡°They don¡¯t seem to be having a good time,¡± said Lia, as she stared down into the mist, ¡°I¡¯m not sure what exactly it is they¡¯re fighting, but it looks like they¡¯re having trouble taking it down.¡±


    ¡°All the more reason for us to jump in.¡± The party¡¯s mantis advanced towards the plateau¡¯s edge, but a tentacle made of blood grabbed him by the collar before he could leap over.


    ¡°Reign yourself, Matthias. This floor does not strike me as the sort we can easily conquer.¡± The witch pointed at the many-eyed tentacle monsters flying near the horizon. ¡°We will only find ourselves wanting for a plan, should we blindly advance.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s a lot of ground to cover, and it doesn¡¯t look like any of the other groups have gotten too far in,¡± said Natalya, as she raised her eyes from the fog. ¡°Some of them are pretty strong too, so I think we¡¯ll really need to slow do¡ªwait Claire!?¡± The cat nearly jumped out of her skin when she turned back towards the halfbreeds, neither of whom had remained to see the discussion through.


    Sylvia and her chair had already moved to another earthen spire. They were investigating its spring, focused almost entirely on the discoloured fish swimming within. The arm-sized creatures stood out as a distinct species that the lyrkress had never seen before. Their scales were pitch black, and their spines and eyes were hardly any different, varying only in the intensity of their shades.


    ¡°Oooohhh! Fresh fish!¡± cheered the fox, as she walked to the water¡¯s edge. ¡°I haven¡¯t had any of these in days!¡±


    ¡°We had monopus steak last night,¡± said the moose.


    ¡°I know! But that¡¯s not the same as catching something live.¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And besides, monopusses aren¡¯t even real fish!¡± She caught a particularly plump-looking specimen as she spoke and swallowed it in one bite. ¡°Wow! These are super tasty. You should try some. They¡¯re even better than the ones back home!¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t look very good.¡±


    Claire yoinked a pair out of the water. One was thrown to Boris, who casually opened his jaws to receive it, while the other was carefully examined. Its face was grotesque, filled with jagged fangs of varying lengths, and its eyes outright declassified it as food. They were pitch black, with no signs of movement in any which way. They almost appeared to have come straight from the depths of the abyss.


    ¡°That¡¯s just ¡®cause they¡¯re ugly. Give it here a sec.¡±


    Sylvia opened her mouth wide upon receiving the fish and bit the air with an exaggerated motion. Each time she closed her jaws, a piece of the swimmer changed. First, its head was removed. Next, its scales and fins, and finally its bones and innards. By the time Sylvia was done, all that was left of the once-disturbing abomination was a pure white fillet, or at least something that somewhat resembled one. The fish was somehow still in one impossible piece, despite everything but its flesh being eaten.


    ¡°Oh uhmmm¡­ I guess you probably wanna cook it, but I dunno how.¡±


    ¡°Me either,¡± said Claire, as she poked at the fuzzy critter¡¯s creation. She took a moment to glance at the group that they had abandoned before ripping a few more fish out of the water and pushing them in Sylvia¡¯s direction. ¡°Can you get these cleaned up too? We might as well have lunch.¡±


    ¡°Okay! Just gimme one second¡­¡±


    While the forest critter munched away at the parts that only a particularly glutinous Llystletein fox would enjoy, Claire floated back over the first platform and greeted the two less-than-happy organisers with her usual blank stare. They were shouting at her about one thing or another, but she ignored their complaints, vectored them into the air, and threw them towards the other mountain. The mantis was nearly given the same treatment, but she cut his vector short upon recalling his previous desire.


    ¡°Matthias!?¡±


    Arciel dashed over to the edge of the cliff and looked over, but he vanished beneath the clouds before she could offer anything in the way of meaningful assistance.


    ¡°Oops,¡± said Claire, nonchalantly.


    ¡°We must go after him!¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire. ¡°Rhiars can fly.¡±


    ¡°His wings are bound within his armour!¡± shouted the squid.


    ¡°And he was screaming,¡± added Natalya. ¡°People that can fly don¡¯t scream if they¡¯re dropped in the middle of the sky.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Claire looked down at the clouds, namely the knight-shaped hole featured within them, and shrugged. ¡°Oh well. He¡¯ll be fine,¡± she repeated. ¡°Probably.¡±


    The vampire opened her mouth to complain, but Claire paralyzed her before she could. ¡°I¡¯ll go get him later,¡± she said. ¡°Let him have his fun for now.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure there¡¯s really any fun for him to be had if he dies from the fall,¡± said Natalya, with a grimace.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said Claire. She waited for her ears to pick up a distant thunk before continuing. ¡°He¡¯s already hit the floor. Your log would have updated if he died.¡±


    Natalya sighed. ¡°I know you were trying to be nice to Matthias, but I really think you need to frame your intentions a little better. Arciel¡¯s completely misunderstood.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°And I don¡¯t care. She¡¯d have figured it out eventually.¡± Claire prodded the still frozen vampire with her tail as she grabbed the cat by the shoulders and wheeled her towards the fox. Sylvia had already dug a hole for the firepit and lit up a few branches, but kept the processed fish in a bubble far away from the flame.


    ¡°I can walk by myself,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°I know.¡± Upon arrival, Claire crafted an icy spatula and handed it over to her feline companion.


    ¡°Wait, what¡¯s this for?¡± She blinked in confusion as she looked between the fire and the already melting tool in her soon-to-be frostbitten hand.


    ¡°Maid duties. Do them.¡±


    ¡°Uhm¡­¡± The Paunsean meowed and tilted her head. ¡°What maid duties?¡±


    ¡°Cooking.¡± Claire pointed at the fish. ¡°Neither of us know how. So you have to do it instead.¡±


    Natalya smiled awkwardly. ¡°I don¡¯t really think maids are supposed to be in charge of cooking. That¡¯s more of a chef thing.¡± She shifted her hands behind her back and lowered her gaze. ¡°And to be honest, I¡¯m not really sure how to cook either. The most I could do is probably roast them, and you can do that just as easily.¡±


    ¡°It burned, last time I tried.¡± Claire looked to Arciel with a frown, but the squid only shook her head.


    ¡°The only one of us well versed in the art of cuisine,¡± she said, bitterly, ¡°lies at the bottom of this mountain.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Claire sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll go get him.¡± Groaning in annoyance, she spread her wings, leapt into the clouds, and sought the warrior she dropped out off the sky.

 Chapter 209 - Tentacles and Ashes II

    Chapter 209 - Tentacles and Ashes II


    Having retrieved the broken-legged mantis and enlisted him to make lunch, Claire and co set out with their bellies full and their weapons thirsting for blood. But eager as they were, the adventurers found themselves devoid of any meaningful information. Their mountain top view offered them little in the way of merit. A thick layer of fog prevented them from seeing too far beneath the peaks, and looking towards the horizon provided a similarly negligible amount of information. Clouds and rocks consumed much if not all of the vista¡¯s space. The only notable landmark was a massive craggy peak thrice the size of any other, its frosted tip almost tall enough to touch the sun.


    Unlike most of the other stone spires, which were shaped like large cylinders, it was almost entirely triangular, closely resembling the image invoked when one considered a typical mountain. Claire was tempted to take on her true form and fly straight towards it¡ªthe looming sculpture almost seemed further away from the portal than the dungeon had been from the Vel¡¯khanese capital¡ªbut she refrained. The local wildlife was worth far too much. The level 350 shoggoth that she had defeated during Matthais¡¯ retrieval had given her an entire level, and the others she slew after her midday meal hardly gave any less.


    Pulling Boris out from one such eldritch blob¡¯s face, Claire flicked the discoloured blood off his frame and turned her eyes the other way. She was still unsure as to what about them she enjoyed, but she wanted nothing more than to turn into a qiligon and swallow them by the boatload.


    When she scanned her surroundings, she found that the others were not as quick to finish their marks. Natalya and Arciel were working on a second shoggoth together while Matthais slowly whittled down a third. The mantis was not struggling, per se, so much as enjoying himself. He allowed his foe to show off its full repertoire, attacking only to encourage the eldritch blob to retaliate in kind.


    Likewise, the other two were not so much lacking in firepower as they were staying vigilant. Having both fallen prey to the shoggoth on the fifth floor, they erred on the side of caution and carefully observed each of its attacks. And it was precisely to aid in this effort and further their understanding that Sylvia had changed heads. She was sitting between Lia¡¯s ears, her body shifted to its fairy-like form and a miffed face resting atop her palms.


    Her job, for the most part, was done. She had already explained the dream eaters¡¯ various strengths and weaknesses, as well as elaborated on their ability to drowse their opponents and enter their minds. It worked primarily off of their polyps. If their detachments were able to make contact with their foes, then they could whisk them off to the land of nightmares and illusions. Mind-rending abilities aside, the shoggoths were effectively no different from any other high-leveled slimes. If anything, their extra organs made them more vulnerable. It was possible to interrupt the void magic they flung by attacking the eye that was its caster. Being the less magically inclined of the two, Natalya struggled to pinpoint the appropriate oculi, but Arciel had no problem seeing it done. She prodded at the creature with spears made of its own blood, stunning it every time it tried to build its spells.


    Another two blobs wandered over and joined the fray right as they moved to end the first. Though they had taken their time, Sylvia¡¯s fresh disciples had slain the shoggoths much more quickly than some of the other parties¡¯ members. It was not their knowledge that made the difference, but the confidence with which they advanced. One would think that seafarers like the Vel¡¯khanese would be well seasoned in battles against the creatures of the deep, but such a radical assumption could not have been further from the truth. The Ryllian¡¯s most civilized inhabitants stayed only within its shallowest waters. Even those that made their livings from the slaying of monsters rarely strayed too far from the safety of their coastal homes, for venturing into the abyss was but a fool¡¯s errand. Even the children knew that conflict with abyssal horrors was to be avoided at all costs.


    As one such monster herself, Claire was unaffected by the aura of terror radiated by the shoggoths and their peers. She leapt through the forest and charged one of the newcomers with all her usual aggression. It sent a wave of polyps at her, but she shrugged them all off and brought Boris down on its largest eye before it could force her to drowse. The poison that coated his frame forced the beast to recoil, and the magic that flowed through his body fueled the damage he inflicted. With another four swings, the shoggoth was dead, half its corpse frozen and shattered.


    ¡°We were hoping to keep that one alive for a little longer,¡± said Lia, as she sheathed her blade, the second extra blob dead at her feet.


    ¡°There are more coming,¡± said Claire. ¡°We don¡¯t have time to waste. Just kill them and be done with it.¡±


    She could hear two approaching from the front and another three from behind. The larger group had just come off of besting a different party of adventurers. Four of the seven defeated scyphs had been captured instead of killed, but such a fate was hardly better than death. They were kept alive only so their eldritch masters could force dreams down their throats whilst slowly sucking their brains dry.


    ¡°I suppose if we must.¡±


    Arciel waved her staff and gathered the dead monsters¡¯ blood. Forming the glob into a sharpened wedge, she launched it in Matthais¡¯ direction and impaled the shoggoth that he was dueling. It was turned into a withered husk in the blink of an eye. The vital fluid it leaked was merged into the projectile that marred its body and used to tear it in half. The mantis did not exactly appear thrilled by the development, but nodded to his lady and reined in his scythes regardless.


    Claire raised a finger and pointed in front of them. ¡°There¡¯s two somewhere over there. I¡¯ll take the three behind us.¡±


    ¡°Arciel, Matthais and I should take the larger group,¡± said Natalya. ¡°I think we¡¯ve gotten a good enough handle on how we¡¯re supposed to fight them now.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean I¡¯m finally free?¡± Sylvia jumped to her feet, the spark returned to her lightless eyes.


    Lia scratched the back of her head and twisted her lips into a forced smile. ¡°You¡¯re making it sound like watching us was painful. I know we weren¡¯t doing great, but I don¡¯t think we were doing that poorly.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not the problem!¡± The fox lightly stamped the cat¡¯s head. ¡°It¡¯s ¡®cause the way that you guys fight is all safe and boring. Watching Claire is way more fun ¡®cause she¡¯s super reckless!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not reckless,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Uh huh¡­¡± Sylvia floated over to her mount and put her hands on her hips. ¡°Then what about the time you jumped into Headhydra¡¯s barrier while she was regenerating?¡±


    ¡°That was smart. Not reckless.¡± The half-snake ignored the two accusing stares as she turned towards the shoggoths crawling out from within the forest. Their bodies were spread thin, and their heights lowered during their advance so that they would be more difficult to spot. ¡°Less pointing fingers. More fighting. They¡¯re already here.¡±


    ¡°You know, sometimes I think she¡¯s just doing it on purpose,¡± said Lia. ¡°Maybe she just likes thrills.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re overthinking it.¡± Claire lightly flicked the cat¡¯s forehead, eliciting a satisfying cry of pain. ¡°And wrong. Mostly wrong.¡±


    She moved her hands as she continued harassing the catgirl with her tail, setting the fairy on her shoulder and raising Boris overhead. Recognizing that he was to be thrown, the lizard minimized his size and turned himself into a ball no larger than her fist. He warped again when he was launched, sprouting large serrated blades in every which direction. The trees he touched were sawn in half and the shoggoth hardly fared any better. He ripped right through its eyes, devouring its tentacles and transforming its body into a mess of splintered flesh.


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    The half-dead blob tried to attack him, but he turned back into a lizard and returned to his owner before he was struck.


    Claire swung him again as he entered her hands. She bashed his face into a second meat blob and sent a chilling pulse through his body. When the motion was repeated, he shifted forms again, first turning into a pickaxe to channel a freezing blast through the monster''s flesh, and then back into himself to smash it to bits.


    He had been fearful of his master¡¯s icy magic at first, but with continued exposure, he found that it was harmless. The trick was to accept it. It would meld with his form and refill his own pool so long as he did not try to resist it, just like the poison that so often coated his frame. She was like a well, a great sea of raw mana that he could easily draw from and refine. It was also through that link that he had always understood her silent commands.


    Following one such order, he turned into a massive meat hook and dove deep within another shoggoth¡¯s flesh. With him as her fishing rod, she hoisted it overhead and fired a breath, obliterating its flesh and consigning it back to the void. He, on the other hand, was unharmed. Like his master, he was completely immune to the bombardment¡¯s destructive properties.


    They spent a long time cycling between lulls and periods of murder. He napped whenever his master engaged in travel or conversation, waking only when they engaged hostile forces. His face was bashed into all sorts of beasts and baddies, the particular details changing each time. Following one such occasion, he found himself privy to the strangest of sounds. It rang quietly at first, unable to pull him from his usual relaxed state, but it grew louder each time he inhaled. The world around him distorted, twisting, turning, and bending as the trees turned to delectable gargoyles and the monsters to massive giraffes.


    The illusion lasted until his face met a wall. His master had broken the spell by bashing him against its caster. Blinking his eyes from beneath the veil that was his built-in helmet, he looked upon the creature with a curious gaze.


    It was not a shoggoth like any of the others they had slain, but something much smaller and more durable. When Boris looked at it, he nearly found his mind stolen again, but another smack returned it to its rightful place.


    Each time he turned his eyes towards it, he would find himself plagued by an illusion that grew weaker with every repetition. Eventually, it stopped affecting him altogether and allowed him to see its perpetrator¡¯s true form. Like the projection¡¯s focus, the monster was something that somewhat resembled a giraffe, albeit one with a number of deformities. Its multiple heads were attached directly to its body with no necks to serve as intermediaries. Its legs were positioned not beneath it but on top of it, so that it could walk along an invisible plane whose precise curvature it was free to dictate.


    Claire was just as unbound by the earth. Her wings still retracted, she hovered in the air above the monster so that she could dart out of the way whenever it charged. Each of its attacks, she countered with a bludgeoning strike. Head screwed on straight or not, Boris was bashed right against its hardened exterior.


    Unlike her weapon, the longmoose was unaffected by the beast¡¯s psionic attacks. Its mind waves were noted, but otherwise dismissed. None of the parties involved understood her resistance, nor did any adapt their behaviours accordingly. Had the beast been more intelligent, it likely would have grown fearful and fled, but the simple neckless creature only pushed forward even as its life force was depleted.


    ¡°I have no idea what I just killed.¡±


    Claire spoke under her breath as she kicked the seven-headed corpse into the undergrowth and removed herself from her temptations. Like the shoggoths, it was appealing in a way that she did not quite understand. Her rational mind knew that it was bound to be disgusting, but her body thirsted for its rainbow-coloured flesh, the very same way she had occasionally craved meat as a lyrkress.


    ¡°Huh? Doesn¡¯t it show its name in your log?¡± asked Sylvia, with a tilt of the head.


    ¡°I know what it¡¯s called,¡± said Claire, ¡°but I don¡¯t know what an eldritch muse is supposed to be.¡±


    ¡°Well uhmm¡­ it¡¯s uhhh¡­¡± The hat crossed her arms and furrowed her brows. ¡°It¡¯s a thing that¡¯s good at working in groups and can combine to make an even bigger, stronger, and stupider thing.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t explain anything,¡± said Claire. ¡°And I still don¡¯t get why it looks like that.¡±


    ¡°Oh uhm¡­ yeah, I dunno either.¡± Sylvia fiddled with her tail. ¡°But I¡¯m starting to get really sick of all these silly monsters attacking us. They¡¯re so annoying!¡±


    ¡°They are,¡± agreed the other halfbreed. ¡°But I¡¯ve gotten a lot of levels off of them.¡±


    ¡°Ughh¡­¡± Sylvia¡¯s tail drooped. ¡°Of course you¡¯re stuck on the levels again. I was hoping you¡¯d just let me kill them so we could get on with it. That big mountain we¡¯re walking at looks like it could be a whole week away. Can¡¯t you just like¡­ rush us ahead a little bit? It¡¯s not like you¡¯re getting all that much experience from these guys anymore either.¡±


    ¡°It takes nine or ten of them for a level now,¡± said Claire ¡°That¡¯s still a lot, for how easy they are to kill.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but there¡¯s like a bajillion of them!¡± complained Sylvia. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna get anywhere unless we start killing them off a lot faster.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Claire accelerated towards the ground as she spoke. Her form changed in midair, shifting to that of a lyrkress just in time to plunge her hooves and talons into an unsuspecting shoggoth. She ripped another apart with her forces whilst manipulating Boris with her tail. The lizard-shaped whip-sword carved up all the monsters it touched, rending them as easily as the air. Arciel quickly seized control of the blood she drew, channeling it back inside their enemies and forcing them to explode.


    The lyrkress glanced around the group after the last enemy fell, her eyes settling on the party¡¯s berserker. Her mind was temporarily removed, and her armour had become a dress of viscera, covered from head to toe in bits of shoggoth. Lia growled when she first sensed the gaze, but calmed after determining its source. She took a deep breath, put a hand on her face, and gradually dispelled the enchantment that had stolen her capacity for reason.


    ¡°Feel like a break?¡± Claire spoke as soon as the madness faded, but kept her distance from the unsanitary stray.


    ¡°I would be, but I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anywhere for us to rest. These things are relentless.¡± The cat turned to the blood mage, who promptly cleaned her up with a snap of the fingers. ¡°I can see why everyone was struggling to make progress.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps we could fend them off in shifts,¡± said Arciel. ¡°It shall no doubt exhaust us, but it is better to rapidly drain our energies and recover through rest than to be slowly run into the ground.¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t need to. I have something in mind.¡± The lyrkress magically seized the party¡¯s members, lifting them off the ground as she deployed her wings.


    ¡°Oh, no. Please don¡¯t tell me we¡¯re going up.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going up.¡± Claire stuck out her tongue, prompting the critter on her head to break into a giggling fit.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Lia! There aren¡¯t as many monsters up in the sky,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I dunno why, but most of them really like this weird purple mist. Oh, and plus! There¡¯s something really weird up there. It¡¯s worth a whole buttload of XP if you wanna go through all the trouble.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said we were going to take a break,¡± grumbled the cat. She had her hands pressed against her eyes, an extra protection against her curiosity.


    ¡°We are!¡± chirped the fox. ¡°You¡¯ll see in a second.¡±


    They flew straight up the side of the nearest mountain, their pace easily exceeding that of the shoggoths that attempted to give pursuit. The blobs spiralled up the stone at first, but gave up as they trailed behind. The less intelligent giraffe balls moved as if to follow, but Sylvia deleted them with her jaws. Every spherical mammal was munched before it could so much as leave the tree line.


    As Claire continued to rise, she realised that the rock face she ascended was quite different from the one that they had started on. Its crown was at a much lower elevation, still hidden in the mist, and its shape was not exactly cylindrical. At the very top sat a cap like that of a mushroom, many times wider than the stem from which it sprouted.


    ¡°Is that a temple?¡± Arciel opened her eyes wide as they slipped through a gap and found themselves greeted by a large stone building.


    ¡°Not just a temple,¡± grunted the mantis floating beside her. His compound eyes moved rapidly as he scanned the surrounding area. ¡°It¡¯s a whole damn town.¡±

 Chapter 210 - Tentacles and Ashes III

    Chapter 210 - Tentacles and Ashes III


    When Claire ascended the cylindrical mountain and climbed atop its umbrella-like peak, she found herself gazing upon a scene that one would only ever associate with civilized lands. There was a town, a beautiful farm village with over a hundred residents working its fields. From where the party had entered, they could see it in all its glory. The temple sat atop a large hill overlooking the rest of the tranquil hamlet.


    It was still misty; the same noxious smoke that had assailed them on the previous floor filled the space occupied by the town, but the fog distorted their view no longer. Somehow, it was equal parts purple and clear; they could easily see beyond the nearby fields, through the town square, and even into some of the houses therein.


    Strange feathered creatures were wandering around the village, going about their everyday lives as they would outside a god¡¯s realm. Some were tending to their crops, some were processing the items they gained from their hunts, and some were simply idling about, sitting in their grand, two-story nests and dozing off.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire?¡±


    The only shoggoths anywhere in sight were tiny specimens chained to homes and dressed with top hats and monocles. They were willingly collared, treated more like pets than slaves or servants. Some even had smaller nests outside their masters¡¯, carefully constructed to keep out the rain. Most were lazily lying around, perking up only when others passed by so that they could happily greet them with their tentacles.


    ¡°Heellooooooo?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with her?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I dunno. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen her really get like this all that much before.¡±


    It was only upon looking at the townfolk that they found the weapons the other adventurers had described. Out-of-place blades hung off the waists and backs of the local hunters. Some of the deformed residents had extra appendages to wield them, but most had only their wings and legs, limbs not suited to the manipulation of sabers and axes.


    To label the locals as birds would be generous at best, disingenuous at worst. They were clearly eldritch in nature. Though obscured with layers of feathers, their vomit-green skin was not invisible. The sickly, bumpy layer peeked out from beneath the plumes where their beaks met their faces. Each individual had a distinct mouth part, the absurd variation within which appeared to suggest that the creatures were not all the same species. Shapes, sizes, and colours all varied drastically from person to person. Some had the standard yellow wedges, some had long, tropical hooks, and there was even a particularly unfortunate individual whose face was decorated with a horrifying mouth shaped like a pair of mugs clamped together.


    ¡°Ughh¡­ come on! Snap out of it!¡±


    Just as noteworthy were the monsters¡¯ feet. Chicken-like toes were most common, but there were tentacles, hooves, flippers, and even humanoid legs present within the crowd. When paired with their mouths, their feet made for perfect identifiers, for while some shared the same legs or beaks, no two individuals shared both.


    They were abominations, beasts whose very existence stood opposed to the tenets preached by the god of beauty. Claire would not have been surprised if one of his followers declared a crusade immediately upon sighting the aberrations, nor would she have spoken against it. Their aesthetic reeked of an unholy influence. They deserved nothing more than to be consigned to the abyss. And yet, she was stuck fighting the glands nested in her mouth.


    ¡°Claaaaaaaaiiiiirrreeee! I¡¯m going to bite you if you don¡¯t say something.¡±


    Drool poured from her lips like water from a fountain. Her uncontrollable forked tongue flicked through the air, tasting them prematurely, and ice sprouted from her hands, coating her body in a layer of frost. All influences from the child that had been integrated into her soul.


    Extra pupils appeared in her eyes as she located the morsels she was to consume. Their civilization would follow as an added dessert. A delightful accompaniment to the song of death that would be her second lunch.


    ¡°Okay, you know what? That¡¯s it!¡±


    A tingling sensation shot down her spine as soon as the words passed through her mind. A mix of pain and pleasure, originating from the teeth embedded within her ears. The strange feeling dispelled her hoarfrost armour, scattering it to the winds with her unhindered aggression.


    Her butt still clenched and her face still twisted into a grimace, Claire wiped the drool off her face, yanked the angry fox away from her ear, and pulled her hood over her head. ¡°Never do that again.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not even my fault! You weren¡¯t listening,¡± complained the fox. ¡°You aren¡¯t even supposed to attack them yet! We¡¯re supposed to be taking a break.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to attack them.¡±


    Claire tilted her head, innocently, but Sylvia was not having any of it. The captive fox raised a paw and pointed it towards the lyrkress¡¯ other hand. When the longmoose looked over, with one of the extra pupils in her eyes, she found Boris, shaped like a grappling fork and ready to be thrown. Her gaze shifted back towards the accuser, then to the rest of the jury before she slowly lowered the arm and hid the lizard behind her back.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    She put on the most innocent smile she could manage, appearing to them not as the hungry child who had threatened to demolish the field of food, but rather as one that did her homework and made her bed without having to be told.


    ¡°That¡¯s not gonna work when we literally just watched you get ready to kill them!¡± cried the fox.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± repeated the lyrkress.


    ¡°Matters of intention aside, how shall we approach contact? I doubt they are willing to accept unruly vagrants as guests.¡±


    ¡°They seem civilized enough. There might be an inn or something for us to rest in,¡± grunted Matthais.


    ¡°I doubt it.¡± Natalya dismissed the hypothesis with a shake of the head. ¡°Smaller towns like these rarely ever have them, and I doubt we have the currency to use them in the first place. There¡¯s no telling what an isolated society like this would use for its coinage, if it uses it at all.¡±


    ¡°With a society of such a scale, it would shock me to discover them capable of minting metals at all,¡± said Arciel. ¡°There are no smithies here. I spotted not a single chimney during my initial survey.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be literal coinage,¡± said Natalya. ¡°They could just be using rocks, or shells, or something else as a substitute.¡±


    ¡°You two are going to put me to sleep.¡± Grumbling under her breath, Claire turned her attention in the direction of the uncomfortable gaze that had settled on her back. Following it across the vista and up a tower, she found that they had already captured the attention of the local watchmen.


    The two bird-like creatures sitting atop it were whispering to one another, their words spoken in a tongue she was unable to comprehend. One of the men readied his bow and nocked an arrow, but the other raised a wing to stop him before he could fire. He pointed one of his wings in their direction repeatedly, his voice growing louder and louder until the other creature finally rolled his eyes and lowered his weapon.


    The angrier of the two breathed a sigh. Still somewhat annoyed, he smacked the other villager over the head and pushed him off the tower. Had they not been birds, under the loosest of definitions, such a deed would surely have been questionable, but the trigger-happy maniac spread his wings and caught himself before he hit the floor.


    He soared right up to Claire¡¯s group, looking more annoyed than not as he moved through the town. None of the other residents bothered to greet him, merely allowing him to pass by stepping out of the way whenever necessary. And necessary it often was. He ignored everything but the buildings in his path and made a beeline straight for the intruders, causing all sorts of chaos without a care in the world.


    ¡°Halt,¡± he said, as he landed in front of them. ¡°What business do you have with us?¡± His Marish was accented, the vowels too short and the consonants too long.


    ¡°We mean you no harm,¡± said Arciel. ¡°We wish only to rest briefly before we set out again.¡±


    The watchman took half a look at the vampire squid and scoffed. ¡°Silence, sleeper. I was speaking to the dreamwalker and the progenitor. I have no patience to waste on the likes of livestock like you.¡±


    ¡°Livestock!? Do not call me livestock!¡± The squid¡¯s face twisted; her eyes narrowed into a glare and her teeth turned to sharpened fangs. ¡°Do it again, and I will pry your still-beating heart from your ribs and shove it down your throat.¡± Her shoulders trembled with every word, and her magic ran rampant within her frame.


    She was not the only one set off by the insult. Matthias had also placed a hand on his blade and lowered his stance. The local had nocked a bolt of black made from mana as a response, but Claire stepped in before the circumstances could spiral too far out of control.


    ¡°Ignore her,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°We¡¯ve only stopped by to rest. Blink, and we¡¯ll be gone.¡±


    Again, the watchman scoffed. He shifted his eyes between the fox and the lyrkress before he finally lowered his weapon. ¡°Then we shall allow you to rest within the temple. But you may wander no closer to the center of town, else we will interpret it as an act of aggression.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We won¡¯t.¡±


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    ¡°We will be watching.¡±


    The bird turned around and returned to his tower, followed closely by two hostile gazes, two curious looks, and the hungriest stare he had ever felt.


    ¡°Why did you stand between us, Claire?¡± asked Arciel. ¡°Surely you of all people understand that he has slighted my honour? Does stopping me not go against your overzealous penchant for murder?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not the problem.¡± The lyrkress rolled her eyes. ¡°When you have more than a sliver of mana.¡±


    ¡°I thought we were just stopping by to rest,¡± said Lia. ¡°I really don¡¯t think we should be butchering the locals, even if they happen to get on our nerves.¡±


    ¡°He has gone far beyond getting on my nerves! To describe me as livestock is to deserve death without exception.¡± She tightened her grip on her staff, bashing its tip against the floor.


    ¡°Just kill him and be done with it then.¡± Claire froze a patch of dirt and sat down on top of it, her tail curling in around her legs. The tree she leaned on was equally as fake, made of the icy bits that had come with the dispersal of her drool-driven armour.


    ¡°Hold on, let¡¯s take a few steps back,¡± said the cat. ¡°Nobody¡¯s going to kill anyone, okay? We¡¯re bounty hunters and dungeon divers, not bandits.¡±


    ¡°And these are monsters inside of a dungeon,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°So we¡¯ll kill them for experience.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to kill them just because they¡¯re monsters. You didn¡¯t kill Sylvia,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°Because I couldn¡¯t. Still can¡¯t,¡± said Claire. ¡°And she¡¯s fluffy.¡±


    ¡°Wait a second! I thought you said that I wasn¡¯t fluffy!¡± cried the furball.


    ¡°I said you wouldn¡¯t be happy with my answer, not that you weren¡¯t fluffy.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s basically like saying I¡¯m not fluffy enough!¡±


    The catgirl frowned as she sat down atop a flattened rock. She pulled out her book, flipped through it a few times, and put it back before finally speaking again. ¡°If they¡¯re smart enough to talk, then they¡¯re smart enough for us to let them go.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care how smart they are,¡± said Claire. ¡°They give experience.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make it right for us to kill them.¡±


    ¡°Their words have given us nothing but right,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°I don¡¯t really care if we kill them or not,¡± said Matthias, ¡°but I¡¯d like a shot at fighting them. They¡¯ve gotta be at least halfway decent if they have shoggoths for pets.¡±


    The catgirl pressed a hand to her face and sighed. ¡°Why are all of you so bloodthirsty? Adding more people to the party was supposed to make us less aggressive, not more.¡±


    ¡°It is not bloodthirst,¡± said the squid. ¡°He has slighted my honour. Another insult, I could tolerate, but to describe me as livestock is a line too far crossed.¡±


    ¡°I get that, and I don¡¯t blame you for wanting to go after him, but we shouldn¡¯t murder the entire town just because one person pissed you off.¡± The cat placed a hand on the blade of her sword. ¡°So how about this? You at least attempt to request a duel, and if he accepts, then we let it slide with just that?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s boring,¡± muttered the lyrkress. ¡°We sh¡ª¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t give her any ideas, Claire.¡± Adjusting her glasses, the cat cut the moose off with a fiercely professional smile.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°That whole skit would be much easier to believe if I didn¡¯t just watch you try.¡± She put her hands on her hips and twisted her lips into a frown. ¡°I still don¡¯t get why you love killing things so much anyway. I know you want experience, and I know you¡¯re Cadrian, but that doesn¡¯t mean that you should be trying to murder everything you see. And it¡¯s not like you don¡¯t know better. Wait, are you even listening?¡±


    Though Natalya had intended on giving an honest sermon, she soon found the lecture an effective weapon. It curbed Claire¡¯s aggression without issue, taking her from a hundred to zero before she so much as needed to take a breath.


    There was only one caveat. Claire had not calmed because she had come to understand the cat¡¯s side of the argument, but rather because she was already on the verge of falling asleep.


    ___


    Because Lia lectured her almost every time she snapped to attention, Claire remained half asleep until the battle began. There was a magical whoosh, a horrifying screech, and a thick, wet, glop¡ªfamiliar violent sounds that signalled that it was time to clear her mind.


    Arciel and the offending man were dueling in the street, their surroundings in ruins. Many of the shops and homes located within the town square had been heavily damaged if not outright destroyed. Some were on fire, others collapsed, but none were inhabitable any longer. At first, the moose assumed it to be some sort of petty revenge. She herself would surely have wreaked havoc as a way to get back at the rude local, but the next exchange proved that it was not the squid that was responsible for the damage.


    The vampire evaded an arrow by diving into a shadow. What seemed like an excessive maneuver soon revealed itself a justified precaution. There was a quiet click, followed shortly after by a much louder crack. The space where the missile had touched the ground shattered, with everything around it sucked into a gravitational well.


    It almost looked like force magic. There were a thousand vectors chaotically swirling about in tandem. Individually, they were weak, but together, they formed a coalition capable of tearing wood by its fibres.


    Arciel attacked without stepping back into view. She called upon the collapsed buildings¡¯ shadows and turned them to spikes. Combining to one, they surged towards the man, traveling along the ground until they suddenly pitched up and spun towards his chest. He flapped his wings and hopped to safety, but the vampire squid refused to relent. She emerged from his shadow and clubbed him in the back of the head before he could react.


    For a moment, he reeled. It looked as if he was about to lose consciousness and collapse, but he planted his feet firmly on the ground and stood strong. A dozen tentacles sprouted from the back of his neck and reached for Arciel¡¯s throat. But she failed to be strangled.


    The tie that bound her ponytail snapped as her hair sprang to life. The thin black strands shot forward, piercing the horror¡¯s neck-limbs and locking them in place. He tried to struggle at first, but the strength drained from his body as the tentacles that covered her head sucked the life force from his veins.


    For the man, engaging in close quarters had been a mistake. Because while he was an abyssal horror, she was a kraken. And when it came to tentacular combat, kraken lost only to themselves.


    He tried to spin around, but his other limbs were given the same treatment as his tentacles. He grit his teeth and begrudgingly spat a reluctant admission of his loss, expecting to be freed, but the Vel¡¯khanese royal only continued to drain him. Horrified shouts and angry jeers ran through the crowd as his life was slowly, slowly stolen away.


    The other watchman drew his axe with the extra limbs sprouting from his waist and stepped towards the murderous bloodsucker, but Claire intercepted him before he could butt in. Without a word, she brought Boris down on his skull and bashed his head into his chest. His broken spine was shoved straight into his heart, crushing it to bits.


    It was a brutal assault, but the man refused to die. With a loud grunt, he drove his axe towards his attacker¡¯s shoulder and slashed with all the power his tentacles could muster. It was too quick to dodge or deflect, but Claire ignored the pain and bashed him again. Each strike smashed his cracked skull further into his body, making it a permanent fixture held within his chest.


    He tried to strike her again as his consciousness dimmed, but the result was unchanged. His blade was unable to pierce her skeleton. Her tail, on the other hand, saw no difficulty in ravaging his. It flew straight into his ribcage, piercing his flesh and bone alike.


    ¡°Claire!?¡± Natalya shouted as she ran towards them.


    ¡°It¡¯s too late. He¡¯s already dead.¡± The lyrkress turned around and walked away from the bird¡¯s corpse right as it was swallowed by a burst of vectors, the hydra in his stomach proving that her magic was far superior to the arrows that they fired.


    ¡°Not that!¡± shouted the cat. ¡°Your shoulder!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not fine! Their weapons are clearly cursed!¡± Lia patted the wound dry with a piece of gauze from her bag. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll get it bandaged up. We can probably get you back to the ship before it bleeds out and have one of the priests treat it.¡± Her hands slowed and her words trailed off as she watched it close right before her eyes. ¡°Huh? How? I thought¡­¡±


    ¡°I have Builledracht¡¯s blessing. I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ thank Tzaarkus,¡± The cat breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°I thought you were done for.¡±


    ¡°Thank some other god,¡± The halfbreed muttered under her breath as she peeled the cat off her face. An arrow nearly struck her as she did, the projectile missing only because a shadowy bolt knocked it out of the air.


    ¡°Stay on your guard.¡± Arciel stepped over the two dead locals as she brandished her staff. ¡°There are more of them.¡±


    While most of the women and children had retreated, nearly half the male witnesses had remained. Some were cautious, keeping their hands on their weapons, in case the foreigners attacked, while others turned openly aggressive. They moved to surround their enemies, weapons drawn, and their beaks rattling about the cowardice of those that refused to join them. Of the twenty-odd birds still present, only five wielded the glowing purple steel employed by the deceased.


    One such bird was locked in combat with Matthias; both fighters had engaged as soon as they spotted each other, one shouting profanities, the other wielding his arms with a confident smile.


    ¡°This is exactly why I wanted to minimize the number of casualties,¡± grumbled Natalya.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t going to be possible,¡± said Claire. ¡°They look too edible.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s exactly the first thing that comes to mind when I look at them,¡± muttered the cat.


    Shrugging, Claire immediately broke the encirclement by taking on her true form and forcing the avians back with her sheer size. She rose into the air, grasped one of the birds in her maw, and snapped its bones to bits. Like the first two villagers, it demonstrated a remarkably durable constitution. It continued to struggle even as she chewed it, perishing only after a few seconds of crunching.


    The flavour was slightly better than what she had expected. It was bland and boring, but not excessively sour or otherwise outright disgusting. It was decent enough that she went for another bite, swallowing the second and third just as readily as the first. They tried to struggle. One of the men was armed with a bow, but his arrows went nowhere. The pony she summoned vacuumed them up before they could cause any harm.


    ¡°You¡¯ll never get away with this!¡± A boy with an owl-like shape, one of the few children that remained, shouted as he charged through the men, his wings beating furiously. He folded them at the last second, diving towards Natalya like a spear from the sun.


    ¡°This is definitely going to weigh down on my conscience¡­¡± Still complaining, the cat sidestepped the barehanded brat and struck the back of his head with the pommel of her blade. ¡°Can we please just calm down!? We can still talk this through!¡±


    ¡°Liar! Murderer!¡± He grit his teeth and crawled away from her, so she ignored him and shifted her focus back to the others.


    And that was exactly why he perished.


    He sought Arciel¡¯s first kill and grabbed one of the arrows from the dead man¡¯s quiver, ¡°With my life as tribute,¡± and without a moment¡¯s hesitation, stabbed himself in the heart, ¡°I summon Meltys of Arviandor, divine protector of the arviad race!¡± The words were spoken through gritted teeth, the arrow¡¯s vectors forcing blood from every orifice.


    It was not a true ritual. There were no magic circles, no holy deeds or worship. But its effects could not be ignored.


    The young man¡¯s heart burst into a ball of fire, a silvery flame. It grew with untold vigour, swelling to consume his body before soaring beyond the heavens. The boy was gone, his ashes consigned to the void by a pillar twenty meters across and twenty thousand tall.


    But his will was not forgotten.


    It alone was carried on, entrusted to the saviour that emerged from his flame.

 Chapter 211 - Tentacles and Ashes IV

    Chapter 211 - Tentacles and Ashes IV


    Still chewing on a half dead arviad, Claire observed the pillar with a curious gaze. It was an obvious opening; she was too focused on the raging fire to pay the other combatants any attention, but none dared to enter her range. The bravest among them had already proven her scales impervious to their weapons, and the few left alive were baretaloned to begin with. It would not be incorrect to describe the survivors as cowards, but cowardice was not the only force that drove their retreat. Like the sacrificial lamb and the villagers that fled from her allies, they had pinned their hopes on the entity that emerged from within the flames.


    The protector¡¯s advent came with a moment of silence, its overbearing presence demanding the attention of all. Raw power radiated off its body, a mix of pinks and silvers that inspired the townsfolk to break into cheers of joy and relief. Claire, on the other hand, had her face twisted in disgust. The so-called divine protector was wrong in a way that sent shivers up her spine, spreading outwards from her shard and radiating through her frame, insects scurrying across her skin, or perhaps worms wriggling around beneath it.


    It was precisely her discomfort that reminded her of another peculiarity. Her divinity was still present, all 138 points readily accounted for, but her shard had remained silent prior to the faker''s arrival. Entering the temple¡¯s grounds had failed to ignite the biting pain that typically accompanied a god¡¯s domain. The discrepancy was due for an investigation, but she rid her mind of it and redirected her focus. It didn¡¯t matter what the answers were. The enemy had already engaged.


    The pink duck led with a magical barrage. It flapped its wings to forge undulating waves of fire, each a thick blanket of white. They grew larger as they ascended into the sky, but Claire was unbothered. She ignored the cozy embers and clasped her talons together. She crafted a lump of ice between her clawed fingers, forming not a spear, but a hefty anchor. The oddly-shaped bolt had no self-propelling properties, but its creator solved that particular problem with the application of brute force. She flung it straight at her target, its speed further boosted by a powerful vector.


    The bird stomped a bright orange foot against the floor and twisted its body out of harm¡¯s way, narrowly avoiding the massive weight that threatened to run it through. When it hit the ground behind her, it exploded, ballooning into a town-rending glacier. While the bird was able to escape the spell, it failed to evade the catgirl that followed. Lia dashed up from behind the duck and drove her blade into one of its wings. She dug her feet into the soil and went for a second attack, a quick stab to the chest, empowered by every muscle in her back.


    There was a loud clang; the rapier was caught by a tentacle that erupted from the base of the duck¡¯s neck and met it head on. The clamour was followed by a high-pitched whir as the spinning blade made an attempt to saw through the monster¡¯s flesh, but it failed. The creature was every bit as tough as the catgirl¡¯s metal.


    Lia clenched her teeth and sacrificed five percent of her health. Strength flooded from her core, pumping through her body, giving her the edge required to rend even Farenlight¡¯s scales. But it wasn¡¯t enough. The mouth-tentacle remained perfectly solid. Only its owner was displaced, pushed a few steps back by the show of power.


    Natalya immediately shifted gears and drew a rune with her blade. The enrage was nearly instant, but a wall of flame halted her advance before she could approach its caster. Meltys had crafted a barrier, a circular dome that walled off the party¡¯s mage from the rest of its members.


    Arciel was not afraid to lash out in spite of her vulnerability. Rising from the monster¡¯s shadow, she commanded her umbral armies to seize the bird, but none were able to reach her. They were burned away before they could make contact, evaporated by firelight. She leveraged her blood magic next and crafted a stake covered in thorns. It nearly made contact, but the protector repelled it the same way it had repelled the catgirl¡¯s sword.


    Had the spell been fueled by more blood, the vampire likely would have won the clash, but Claire had eaten most of the corpses, and Natalya had refrained from producing them. She lacked the raw materials required to fully empower her spell.


    A hand on her hat, the mage dove back into the shadows and darted away. But she was followed by a silver flame moving at twice her speed.


    Matthias leapt through the barrier, inserted himself between them, and slashed at the fire, but he was unable to disperse it. When he failed his duty as the princess¡¯ blade, he made himself into her shield instead, using his own flesh to guard her from harm. And in that, he was effective. He emerged from the initial blast only lightly charred, a quarter of his health depleted, and Arciel still pristine. But there was a problem. He was a mantis no longer, but a matchstick instead. Everything from his equipment to his carapace had gone up in flames.


    He grabbed his flask and emptied its contents over his head whilst Arciel covered him in blood, but neither attempt produced any fruitful results. He continued to burn like a witch at the pyre.


    ¡°You cannot quench the primordial flames, villain.¡± The bird spoke as it¡ªshe¡ªevaded another bolt of ice. Her voice was quiet, but filled with hatred and spite. ¡°He will burn until he is dea¡ª¡±


    She was interrupted by a massive talon, a strike with enough power to cleave through the temple¡¯s paved stone and expose the mushroom beneath it. She barely dodged; the tip of one of Claire¡¯s talons caught the side of her face and took a clump of feathers. There was no blood; it was hardly a notable wound, but the bird narrowed her eyes regardless. She was sure that the wyrm had been covered in her embers. But none of them had stuck, let alone caused any harm.


    Claire grabbed the burning mantis with her tail and hoisted him towards her shard. The ice bent to her will, transforming into a hand that grasped his body and neutered the protector¡¯s raging fire. But though he was no longer burning, neither was he out of danger. Her stunt only worsened his condition; his extremities turned blue as his body shook and shivered. Matthias himself was completely unresponsive, his consciousness stolen by the bitter cold.


    There was a brief moment of silence, an awkward lull that the combatants spent with their eyes upon the lyrkrian disaster.


    ¡°They¡¯re quenched.¡± Eventually, Claire spoke, declaring her victory as she purged the rhiar from his glacial prison. He only suffered greater injuries when she grabbed him with her tail. His frozen wings shattered, and his face took another hit when she casually tossed him towards the squid behind her.


    Another moment of awkward silence.


    ¡°To think you would murder your own allies. You are truly scum among scum.¡± The divine protector flapped her wings and produced five tentacles from each. The disgusting webbed fingers held decks of wooden talismans, charms engraved with runes, powerful runes, oozing the same silvery aura as the duck herself.


    They arranged themselves in the air when she threw them, forming a large ring, a thicket of sweltering flame that burned far brighter than the spells she had unleashed from her wings. Claire was finally beginning to feel a slight hint of discomfort, a faint reminder of the time she had spent wandering through a volcano.


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    Arciel did not fare as well as the lyrkress. She was panting heavily, her face twisted in pain, and her body changing, dyeing itself a mix of faint blues and bright reds. Claire glanced at her for a moment before magically grabbing her and throwing her over the fire. One of the talismans moved to intercept, but she spun it around with a vector and redirected its flame towards its caster.


    ¡°Take the cat and leave.¡±


    She moved as she spoke, dodging out of the way of the charging bird. Like the lyrkress, the protector had not waited for her to finish speaking before beginning her assault.


    Meltys led with a kick. She jumped into the air and sucked her legs in before suddenly releasing them. They shot forward like springs, stretching to over a dozen times their previous length. Claire took the attack head on. She didn¡¯t find it particularly painful. The protector was not strong enough to push her back, and her scales were too thick for the hooks on the duck¡¯s flippers to pierce her skin.


    She was, however, met with an inconvenience when the rest of the waterfowl¡¯s body snapped to her paddles. It began pecking at her neck, lashing out with tentacles that threatened to sneak under her scales. The duck had free reign to strike wherever it pleased. The scalewarden, on the other hand, was unable to reach her foe.


    Her arms were too stubby. Her tail was the only thing she could use, and the duck had no trouble avoiding it. Meltys ran along the qiligon¡¯s frame, using the barbs on her feet to make sure she never fell, even when upside down. Claire attempted to rip the bird apart with a powerful pair of vectors, but her body refused to shatter. Tearing her away was just as unsuccessful. Meltys was anchored perfectly to her scales.


    Claire was only able to slip away by shrinking to her humanoid form. She landed on a nearby roof with her wings still extended and raised a hand to summon Boris. Through their link, she could feel the lizard¡¯s attempts at responding, but he never appeared in her hands. Something was getting in his way, impeding the teleportation process before his coordinates could cement.


    The protector charged the moose again before she could retrieve her weapon and slashed with a massive blade, a talisman turned flaming sword the size of a man. Claire met the spell with one of her own, a spear made of ice, but her creation crumbled at first contact. The searing edge melted through its blade and effortlessly cleaved it in two before moving on to threaten her face.


    Claire ducked under the attack and struck at the bird with an axe formed midswing. It was made of a thicker material. The air around it crackled, with bits and pieces freezing and dropping to the ground. It had taken her not the standard hundred mana that it cost to make a spear, but a full five thousand.


    She stared at the bird as she swung, but it shrugged off her paralysis and intercepted her axe with its blade. The fiery claymore lost the second engagement, extinguished by the bitter cold, but when she cleaved at the bird¡¯s flesh, she found her weapon melted again. Every bit of ice that came in contact with the duck was completely obliterated, converted to a violent explosion of steam that sent them both tumbling away. Claire was the first to recover, but not the first to attack. A dozen talismans turned towards her and unleashed a barrage of fireballs.


    The lyrkress swept them aside with her vectors before they could make contact and, without rising from the ground, changed her form again. She morphed only her lower body and slithered towards the bird with her tongue flicking through the air. Driven by her forces and her fully spread wings, she practically flew across the ground, crashing into the duck with a fresh pair of weapons.


    Headhydra¡¯s horns were much deadlier than her creations. Both held true as they dug into the arviad¡¯s chest. Meltys thrashed as they sank further into her flesh, flapping her wings and kicking her legs. There was a sizzling sound every time the two combatants made contact. Wherever the bird touched, Claire¡¯s flesh would inexplicably melt, but she bore with it and kept pushing, digging the weapons deep into the other fighter¡¯s ribs. She let go after twisting them, and drew another pair of blades. The second set, she jabbed into the bird¡¯s throat. The blood that spilled was even hotter than her body¡¯s exterior. A single drop melted one of the lyrkress¡¯ fingers, reducing it to nothing but clear blue bone. It was an agonising pain, worse than wrapping her fingers around fresh balls of lava. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but she was too busy focusing on an even greater source of torment. For her second attack had been met with violent retaliation. The bird had opened its beak and shot its tongue through her gut.


    Her insides were instantly turned to ash.


    But so too was the tentacle destroyed. It crumbled when it touched her spine, its entire length freezing, cracking, and turning to dust.


    Ten more tentacles moved to take its place, but Claire escaped into the sky with a flap of the wings and assumed her true form before the bird could follow. Taking a deep breath and ballooning her chest to three times its usual girth, she unleashed a breath across the village.


    Combatants and civilians alike were caught in its wake, robbed of their lives in equal measure. Their dying wails restored her missing flesh. Their buildings collapsed and turned to rubble. Their livestock and fields were ravaged, turning their hope for the coming seasons to dread and despair. In just one attack, she had completely wiped the settlement off of the map.


    Power coursed through Claire¡¯s body as she basked in the destruction. Corpus imperium filled her with a newfound might. For the first time since her ascension, she had wreaked enough havoc to trigger its passive effect. Everything had been doubled. She felt twice as strong, twice as fast, and twice as durable. Her muscles pulsed with magic, even as she returned to her humanoid form. But the tides were unchanged.


    When she charged at Meltys and slashed at her with another pair of blades, she found her hands once again destroyed by the arviad¡¯s searing blood. A single attack mangled them both, fusing their flesh and charring their skin. The bird¡¯s retaliation, on the other hand, proved much more successful. Unlike the lyrkress, she did more damage to the enemy than she did to herself. Only two of the tentacles disintegrated. The rest were still pristine.


    Leaping backwards to dodge another tentacled assault, Claire magically seized the six weapons embedded within the bird¡¯s flesh and tore them through her body. Using them like the talismans, which had only continued barfing flames in her direction, she ran them through the bird over and over, but the success she saw was minimal.


    Quacking angrily, the duck crossed her arms and unleashed a magical nova, a blast of flame that went in every direction, melting a hole in the mountain atop which the town was built.


    Claire backed off far enough to escape its radius, but her weapons were deleted by the magical assault. All six of Farenlight¡¯s seemingly indestructible horns were evaporated to dust.


    The blast was accompanied by a change in the bird. Her heart had caught fire. It was obvious even without the window carved into her chest. The organ had suddenly burst into a pure white flame, one that glowed even brighter than the sun.


    It was the origin of the fire mage¡¯s magic, the primordial flame that burned all of creation. An elemental power source just like her shard. Every single one of the hundred talismans spread through the arena closed in on Claire and unleashed a wave of flames. She turned most of them away, but some managed to land. And those that did seared her with the same agony as the bird¡¯s skin.


    Her tail was turned to dust, her arms were charred, and her wings were riddled with holes. She repaired herself by creating patches and prosthetics of ice, but it became evident, sooner rather than later, that remaining on the defense would not be sustainable. Attacking was not any better. She had only two horns left, Boris was still missing, and everything else in her arsenal had gone up in flames.


    Clenching the one fist she still had, she folded her wings around her body and turned them into shields as she channeled a full hundred points of divinity through her throat. Her newest organs flared to life, glowing golden before she unleashed the attack full force. Meltys opened her eyes wide, but shielded herself with a burst of primordial flame, fueled by the sickly divine energy concentrated in her heart.


    The two raw elements clashed. But Claire did not stick around for long enough to take note of the result. She turned away while her opponent repelled the breath, assumed her true form, and retreated with haste.


    The bird would see death.


    But it would have to be on another day.

 Chapter 212 - Tentacles and Ashes V

    Chapter 212 - Tentacles and Ashes V


    Claire grit her teeth as she pounded her wings against the sky. Her body was on the road to repair; the holes in her flesh had closed, and her burns had faded, but the irritation that gripped her mind remained. She had finally been pushed to her limits as she had hoped, but her performance thereat had left much to be desired.


    ¡°I should¡¯ve dodged more.¡± She muttered under her breath as she chased after her party. Its members were hidden by the fog, but her detector skill ensured that the catgirl¡¯s outline remained clear as day. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have ignored the weaklings¡¯ attacks.¡±


    Death¡¯s dance was one of her most potent skills, capable of greatly magnifying her offensive prowess. She could have easily leveraged its maximum bonus had she not decided that there was no need to dodge, but she had allowed her pride to get the better of her. Showing off her durability was pointless; her allies knew how tough her scales were, and the villagers had not been the sorts of foes she needed to psychologically corner. And yet, she had taken hit after hit after hit.


    The lack of evasion was not her only failing. She had charged at her foe without equipping her weapon, failed to use her spirit guardians, and, having forgotten that she had sacrificed the associated skill, even botched an easy sneak attack.


    ¡°Oh, whew! You actually made it out!¡± Sylvia appeared atop the lyrkress¡¯ head with a magical pop. ¡°I almost thought I was gonna have to step in.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯d have ignored you for a month if you did.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on!¡± The fox puffed up her cheeks. ¡°I know you¡¯re a dunce and a meanie, but I¡¯m not gonna just sit around and watch while you die!¡±


    ¡°You should.¡±


    ¡°Nuh uh, no way. You¡¯re not allowed to die.¡± Sylvia crossed her arms and huffed. ¡°If you die, then there won¡¯t be anyone to scratch my ears.¡±


    ¡°Ask the cat.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t wanna. She¡¯s too much of a perv.¡±


    ¡°Then ask the squid.¡±


    ¡°No way! I barely even know her! And plus, she¡¯s even worse.¡±


    ¡°She is?¡±


    ¡°Mhm! I think she had a dream about putting together a seraglio the other night¡­¡±


    ¡°Gross.¡±


    Claire glanced behind her for any hints of flame before shifting her body¡¯s shape. Her true form was too conspicuous, but she wasn¡¯t in the mood to be humanoid, so she turned lyrkrian instead.


    Not missing the opportunity, Sylvia jumped on her back, turned into a girl and wrapped her arms around the horse-snake¡¯s waist. Her chin rested on her shoulders, her lips a content smile. ¡°Mhm, but don¡¯t tell her I told you. She¡¯s never ever talked about it out loud, so I¡¯m pretty sure no one¡¯s supposed to know.¡±


    Claire paused briefly, recalling a few notes regarding lamian biology before responding with a shrug. ¡°It makes sense. Her species is all female.¡± She paused again, allowing her head to lean ever so slightly towards the heavier shoulder. ¡°And I knew I could win.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°The battle. My gut was telling me that I could kill the duck.¡±


    ¡°Ohhhhh¡­ well uhm¡­ I think your gut was probably wrong, ¡®cause I¡¯m pretty sure she wasn¡¯t even really taking you all that seriously for the first bit.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s never wrong,¡± muttered the lyrkress. ¡°I should have used it.¡±


    ¡°Used what?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± She began lowering her altitude, descending into the forest as she closed in on where the others had stopped. ¡°You¡¯ll see. Next time the duck shows up.¡±


    ¡°Okay, but you better win quick or I¡¯m actually gonna butt in.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡± She landed as she spoke, greeting the rest of the party with a nod.


    ¡°Claire! You¡¯re okay!¡± Natalya, who had been pacing around the very makeshift camp, snapped to attention as the lyrkress hit the ground. She approached with her arms outspread, but Claire grabbed her by the face before she could further shrink the distance.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get ahead of yourself,¡± she said.


    ¡°It raises my spirits to see that you are still in one piece,¡± said the squid. ¡°Have you slain it?¡± She would have known for certain had they not retreated, but experience wasn¡¯t shared across such a wide area.


    ¡°I will, next time.¡±


    ¡°Next time, I think we¡¯re probably going to be better off working together,¡± said Natalya.


    ¡°That is a claim I would like to call into question,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Matthias carries several charms for defense against fire, but our foe saw no trouble lighting him and his fire-retardant equipment aflame.¡±


    All eyes shot to the unconscious mantis. He had been laid face down atop a bed of toadstools, largely to preserve his decency. His runecloak had fixed itself, but the rest of his clothes and armour were in tatters.


    ¡°Oh uhm¡­ Should I fix him?¡± asked Sylvia. The man¡¯s body was slowly being repaired. His wings were regenerating, and his extremities no longer discoloured, but his burns still remained.


    ¡°It should not be necessary. I believe he will have recovered by the time he wakes,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Your mana is better used for ensuring that our defenses remain intact.¡±


    ¡°I have a better idea.¡± Claire took a moment to scan their surroundings before turning her eyes on her authority skill and activating a familiar function. ¡°I made a safe zone. We¡¯ll be fine to rest.¡±


    Arciel narrowed her eyes and peered at the almost invisible veil. ¡°I certainly sense some manner of barrier, but are you certain it will suffice? Its activation appeared rather¡­ minimal.¡±


    ¡°It should. It¡¯s something a celestial gave me.¡±


    Natalya took a moment to adjust her glasses. ¡°How long have you been able to do that?¡±


    ¡°Since before we met,¡± said Claire. She turned away when Lia cast a suspicious gaze. ¡°I never forgot. It has a long cooldown, and I never felt like we needed it.¡±


    ¡°Right...¡± Lia scribbled a few notes in her journal. ¡°How long is it, exactly? I¡¯ll remind you next time I think it might come in handy.¡±


    Claire paused, her tail flicking left and right. ¡°Two weeks.¡± She glanced back towards the mushroom-shaped rock, which was no longer visible courtesy of all the smog, and muttered under her breath. ¡°I¡¯ll have killed that stupid bird by the next time I can use it.¡±


    ¡°I suggest that we leave that task to Marquis Pollux and his men,¡± said Arciel. ¡°As the pay we are offered corresponds directly to our performance, I believe that reporting our progress and exiting the dungeon would be the most wise. I suspect that this divine protector is likely to hunt us and get in our way, should we remain.¡±


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    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± said Claire. ¡°It helped me experiment. And learn more about my body.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ are beginning to sound like Matthias,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Yeah, Iunno. Claire¡¯s always been kinda bloodthirsty but I feel like it¡¯s getting worse lately,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Definitely,¡± agreed Natalya. ¡°I think it started when we killed Farenlight.¡±


    The accused lyrkress in question rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not like that battle-crazed idiot. He likes fighting. I have a goal in mind.¡±


    ¡°Objective in sight or not, it is hardly worth the risk,¡± said Arciel. ¡°We would be much better off claiming our reward.¡±


    ¡°We can do both,¡± said Lia. ¡°Claire probably isn¡¯t going to back down now that she¡¯s made up her mind, but it¡¯s not like her bloodthirst is going to stop us from letting the Cadrians know what we¡¯ve found.¡±


    ¡°I suppose not,¡± said Arciel, with a frown. ¡°But we would be incurring the risk regardless.¡±


    ¡°There isn¡¯t any risk. I¡¯m killing it next time,¡± said Claire.


    The berserker laughed awkwardly. ¡°I¡¯m more worried about justifying our actions. I doubt they¡¯ll be all that happy to hear that we attacked a village for no reason.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. They would have sacked it if we didn¡¯t,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°They happen to be short on supplies.¡±


    ¡°Cadrians¡­¡± muttered the cat.


    ¡°Cadrians indeed,¡± agreed the squid.


    ¡°You shut up,¡± said Natalya. ¡°You¡¯re the reason it all turned out this way to begin with!¡±


    ¡°I challenged a single man to a duel and leveraged my right as victor to claim his life. The blame does not fall upon my shoulders.¡±


    ¡°They only attacked because you didn¡¯t let him live. We would have been fine if you just backed off after you beat him up.¡±


    ¡°The fault is not mine. His people were the ones incapable of accepting the duel¡¯s outcome, and I have no doubt that he would have attempted the same, had he emerged victorious.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± said Claire. ¡°They¡¯re the barbarians. Not us.¡±


    Natalya buried her face in her hands and groaned. ¡°You know what? Forget it. It doesn¡¯t matter anyway.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Lia.¡± Sylvia floated over and lightly patted the catgirl on the back. This fox was not alone in this action. Boris crawled out of a nearby bush and lent the Paunsean a tail. ¡°If it makes you feel any better, I¡¯m pretty sure Claire was just gonna kill everyone eventually anyway.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t,¡± Natalya pushed her glasses up and kneaded the bridge of her nose. ¡°I¡¯m in a party full of psychopaths.¡±


    ¡°Rude,¡± said Claire. ¡°I¡¯m normal.¡±


    ¡°For a Cadrian, maybe,¡± mumbled the former soldier.


    Arciel produced a fan from her sleeve and lightly tapped it against her palm. ¡°Matters of sanity aside, I believe we should work out some sort of plan.¡± She opened it as she spoke and covered half her face. ¡°I suppose you already have something in mind?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± said Claire, with a nod. ¡°I have a way to kill their self-proclaimed protector. But first, I¡¯m going to need to hunt some more monsters.¡±


    She glanced at her log as she spoke, and noted the past few days¡¯ bounty. Decimating the local shoggoth and giraffe-ball populations had granted her twenty-odd levels, and purging the village had provided a decent chunk as well.


    ¡°Should we go back to the eighth floor then?¡± asked Lia.


    ¡°Why would we do that?¡±


    ¡°The monsters here don¡¯t give as much experience, and it takes more effort to kill them. Moving between the gargoyle camps is probably going to be faster than fighting non stop here.¡±


    ¡°I get lots here,¡± said Claire, with a tilt of the head. ¡°But only in my racial class. The others are being slow.¡±


    ¡°Oh! I think that¡¯s probably the same reason you keep wanting to eat them,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I bet it¡¯s ¡®cause they¡¯re giving you the abyssal horror nutrients and stuff that you¡¯re missing.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°What is it, precisely, that classifies you as an abyssal horror to begin with?¡± asked Arciel. ¡°I do recall you introducing yourself as one, but I do not believe I have seen any of the associated tentacles or eyes.¡±


    ¡°Then look closer.¡±


    On the lyrkress¡¯ cue, Arciel raised the brim of the hat and carefully looked her over. She was confused at first, staring with her brow cocked and her fan lightly tapping against her chin. Claire wore a grin, but the squid saw nothing out of the ordinary. There was no sudden outburst of otherworldly, fear-inducing magic, and the moose had sprouted a grand total of zero tentacles. It was not until they locked eyes that the deposed princess gasped.


    The blues of the horror¡¯s irises were crowded out by the blacks of a dozen pupils, each of different sizes, and some stacked atop the others. Their shapes were constant, the same reptilian slits she had always had, but their sizes, positions, and orientations were all over the place, arranged haphazardly with no clear patterns to be found.


    ¡°And now you understand.¡± Claire turned her eyes back to normal and twisted her lips into a confident smile. ¡°I¡¯m an abyssal horror through and through.¡±


    ¡°Is your father also an abyssal horror?¡± asked Lia.


    The half-snake shook her head. ¡°Not at all. This was a personal choice.¡±


    ¡°Really? You¡¯d think he would be, with how terrifying he is.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because he¡¯s a sociopath,¡± Claire muttered under her breath as she turned to face the vampire again. ¡°Oh, and if that wasn¡¯t obvious enough, I can do this too.¡±


    Claire took a breath before slowly opening eyes all over her body. They appeared everywhere at once, radiating a sickly black energy that wrapped itself around her frame and obscured any parts not covered in irises. Each was entirely independent of the others, and Claire found it a nuisance to control them independently, but she made sure to show off the ability by having the eyes blink at different times, each slightly offset from another somewhere else on her body.


    ¡°Oooooh, that¡¯s neat,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°When¡¯d you learn how to do that?¡± While she was floating around Claire, curiously examining her, the others were a lot more cautious. Lia was standing in place, blinking with her head tilted, while Arciel moved her eyes away.


    ¡°Just now, after eating the birds.¡±


    ¡°See, I knew I was right about my uhmmm¡­ nutrient theory thing!¡± cheered the hat. ¡°Does it let you do anything special? Like maybe make people go to sleep and stuff?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so?¡± Claire shrugged, before turning to the resident cat. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°N-nothing,¡± Lia hid her hands behind her back and slowly swayed her hips from left to right.


    The lyrkress narrowed her eyes, as she undid her transformation and approached a nearby tree. ¡°I¡¯ll be out for a few hours. The barrier should hold as long as we¡¯re in it.¡± She scraped at the dirt with her talons, crafting a Claire-sized indent in the dirt.


    Log Entry 11052


    You have acquired the Digging skill.


    ¡°Don¡¯t wake me up unless there¡¯s an emergency.¡± She turned humanoid as she lay down in the makeshift bed, her fox in her arms and her eyes slowly closing.


    ¡°Wait, didn¡¯t you just wake up?¡± asked a confused Natalya.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t count. I only fell asleep because you were being annoying.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± The cat smiled awkwardly and jotted another detail in her journal. Claire was tempted to project an icy mirror and stealthily check what she had written, but she gave up before she even cast the spell. Her bones were aching too much for her to exert the necessary effort.


    It was still only within her true ice that her divinity was stored. And while a break was not yet due, she would need to sleep if she wanted to fight off the pain that always followed its use.


    ___


    Claire


    Health: 65000/65000


    Mana: 277240/277240


    Divinity: 45/138


    Health Regen: 12.9/second


    Mana Regen: 70.7/second


    Divinity Regen: 13.8/hour


    Ability Scores - 9404 Points Available


    - Agility: 6770


    - Dexterity: 6276


    - Spirit: 4324


    - Strength: 6910


    - Vitality: 4938


    - Wisdom: 12081


    Racial Class: Frosty Longmoose - Level 322.47


    - Corpus Imperium - Level 61.01


    - Eyes of the Deep - Level 37.90


    - Realm of Eternal Frost


    - True Ice Manipulation - Level 74.39


    Primary Class: Llystletein Essencethief - Level 379.61


    - Catgirl Detector V. 1.00 - Level 17.81


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 21.30


    - Death¡¯s Dance - Level 37.06


    - Essencethief - level 29.55


    - Envenom - Level 49.37


    - Phantom Blade - Level 41.76


    Secondary Class: Cloudburst Sorceress - Level 371.44


    - Force Resistance - Level 10.63


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 23.88


    - Spirit Sorcery - Level 52.46


    - Vector Manipulation II - Level 37.16


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 7.00


    - Cadrian Court Etiquette - Level 25


    - Digging - Level 1.00


    - English - Level 25


    - Llystletein Authority++ - Level 15.10


    - Marish - Level 19.14


    - Singing - Level 4.03


    - Sneaking - Level 3.94


    - Weapon Mastery - Level 40.24

 Chapter 213 - Fallen Crown II

    Chapter 213 - Fallen Crown II


    The duel was scheduled immediately upon the monarch¡¯s return. It was set to take place on the last day of the fifth month. Marked for 1600 hours, it would officially determine either the passing or retention of the crown. All the necessary paperwork was filed, and while his informants had discussed seeking reconciliation, Ferdinand himself had agreed to and signed off on the death battle with no questions asked.


    Many of his less trusting subjects suspected hubris. They thought his eagerness to do battle born of a will to prove himself better than his nephew, but Cadria¡¯s reigning god-king had no such desire. That was not to say that the monarch¡¯s pride played no role in his acceptance. Nay, it was precisely because he was proud that he so quickly assented. It was his duty as king, as a man whose role it was to accept the consequences of his actions, be they for better or for worse.


    And the problem at hand, as he understood it, was precisely that¡ªa natural outcome of a choice he had made in days long past, its head reared from its empty grave to bite him one last time. He had always known that it was a mistake, but against his better judgement, he had gone through with it regardless and granted clemency to a man whose blood was due to stain his hands. And for that, it had come time to pay the price, be it with his life, or that of one he had sworn to protect.


    It was with those thoughts that he stepped into the arena and greeted the hundred thousand observers crowding Valencia¡¯s colosseum. Cheers erupted from the stands, flooding the amphitheatre with enough noise to force a weaker man to his knees. Ferdinand, however, proceeded with his head held high. He took his place center stage, raised his spear, and channeled his magic through its frame. Its tip split into a dozen blades of wind, spinning around three times before returning to their coalesced position.


    A gasp spread throughout the crowd. The weapon was Dewdromn, the legendary armament bestowed upon the king by the goddess of war herself. And it was not the only piece of divine regalia he carried. The armour he wore was forged by the god of the inner flame, and the mantle a runecloak woven of cotton hand-raised by the goddess of harvest. All but the spear, treasures pillaged from kingdoms that Cadria had stomped underfoot.


    It was a set of equipment that no amount of money could buy, fit indeed for a god-king that lorded over a country of warriors. But remarkable as it was, it was in no way superior to the gear that Virillius wore upon his person.


    The younger cervitaur was dressed not in his usual full plate, but a shabby piece of leather easily overlooked by the unknowing. It too was a relic sculpted by the divine, a piece of Severantus'' scalp, retrieved by the god of the hunt following the blasphemer¡¯s cull. His weapon was another from Vella''s collection, a shieldlance with a spiderwebbed face and two of the goddess''s own claws serving as its blades.


    His arrival was followed by another booming roar. The air shook, the building trembling beneath the intensity of the cheers. He was the clear favorite, but the defending monarch was unperturbed. Ferdinand greeted his nephew with a stone faced nod before lowering his weapon and speaking with confidence.


    ¡°Virillius Augustus. You stand before the crown with your weapon drawn.¡± His voice was magnified by the arena''s magical functions, loud enough to be heard by the crowd even in spite of the uproar. Still, its members were quick to grow silent, dampening their cheers and murmurs. So that they could listen to the words spoken by the man that had ruled the country for over a thousand years. ¡°Declare your intentions.¡±


    ¡°I challenge for the right to rule.¡±


    ¡°By Vella¡¯s mandate, I shall not refuse your challenge. But before I accept, I must ask you for alternatives. Is there no way for us to reconcile, nephew?¡±


    ¡°There are two.¡± There was a brief pause. ¡°Provide Constantius¡¯ current location or deliver me his corpse.¡±


    A gasp echoed through the stands, particularly amongst the ranks of the military and nobility. There had been many rumours and theories that attempted to speak to the duke¡¯s intentions, but now they understood the truth.


    Virillius¡¯ personal history was not unknown to the people of Cadria. It had been adapted into many plays, and a few particularly lucky soldiers had even made their fortunes off the first-hand accounts of his deeds and struggles. He had been studied by fanatics and critics alike, both of whom would occasionally suggest supposed shocking truths, the validity of which was rarely confirmed. The man in question said little about anything related to his achievements and accomplishments, save for when he discussed them with his confidants or leveraged them to make political moves, but the circumstances at hand were neither. The words carried from his heart, his spite ringing true in the ears of all.


    The crowd stirred. It was one of the first times he had ever willingly divulged his motives before the public eye. And it brought to light a falsehood wrongly assumed by the historical record. Constantius Augustus was still alive.


    ¡°Forgive me, Virillius, I cannot comply." The king raised his blade and steadied his breath. ¡°To do as you ask would be to disregard your father¡¯s will.¡±


    ¡°My father was slain. You are defending the man whose hands are stained with his blood. And Violet¡¯s as well.¡±


    Their words were broadcasted, but they spoke personally, as they would have behind closed doors.


    ¡°I am aware, Nephew. But I cannot allow you to slay him.¡±


    ¡°Truly a shame.¡± Virillius raised his weapon to his chest, his hand positioned directly over his heart. ¡°I have always respected you, Ferdinand, both as a man, and as a ruler.¡±


    ¡°You and Constantius¡­ I thought of the two of you as my own sons.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, perhaps not. I know only one thing that is sure to change.¡±


    ¡°I will not allow you to stain your hands with your brother¡¯s blood.¡±


    ¡°There is no can or cannot. He will fall by my hand, no matter the cost.¡±


    ¡°If you are that determined, then reconciliation is truly impossible.¡± The king lowered his gaze, his eyes clouding. ¡°I would prefer for us not to engage in battle, but alas, I cannot allow you to inherit the throne. The Cadria that you would lead is too different from the one that I have envisioned. To acquiesce would be a disservice to those that so loyally followed my orders, and a betrayal to the ideals I have worn upon my sleeve.¡± He took deep breaths as he tightened his grip on his weapon. His eyes were moist, but his gaze was firm. ¡°Very well. Let us settle this not as men who dine at the same table, but proud Cadrian warriors.¡±


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    After waiting for an affirming nod, the king stepped thirty paces away from his foe and took a moment to reflect upon the inevitable battle. Both men knew the tools in the other¡¯s kit. They had divulged most, if not all their secrets during the many mock battles that they had entertained over the centuries. Together, they had grown from survivors that had happened to reach their thousandth levels to true aspects with full mastery of the powers that breached the immortal realm.


    And it was precisely those powers that would decide the duel¡¯s outcome.


    ¡°I am ready. Begin at will.¡±


    No sooner had the words left the king¡¯s mouth than Virillius charged. Hooves pounding against the ground, he lowered his horns and aimed them straight at Ferdinand¡¯s chest. The monarch matched the motion and met his nephew¡¯s headlong rush with a reckless charge of his own. It was not a traditional initiation, but the same that the two men had always used. Throughout their many long years together.


    There was a loud smash, a powerful clatter that rang through the ears of all that sat within the arena. Neither¡¯s bones gave, and neither was pushed back. They stayed locked in a futile struggle for dominance. Ferdinand was older and larger, but Virillius¡¯ limbs were enhanced by blood. They were evenly matched.


    Though he knew the assault to be a drain on the other man¡¯s magic, Ferdinand was first to disengage. He bent his knees, allowing his foe to rise above him as he drove his divine spear towards his stomach.


    Virillius parried the blow and retaliated with a wide, sweeping slash, but it was caught in midair by a shield of wind. The bright green blades had erupted from the tip of Ferdinand¡¯s weapon and formed a canopy that turned the lance into an umbrella. The king rotated the weapon before his foe could recover and, with a shout of its name, released the magic contained within.


    A tornado shot through the arena, a hurricane that tore through the earth and sky alike. The violent gale winds ate the other cervitaur''s clothing, ripping it apart before parting his skin from his bone and his brain from his skull.


    But his efforts were made moot in an instant. Virillius appeared beside him, perfectly restored, gear and all.


    Having already expected the outcome, Ferdinand did not let up for a moment. He turned his whirlwind spear and attacked Virillius again. His second strike, the general blocked. He deflected it with his shield and brought its blade down on the monarch''s helmet.


    Ferdinand evaded by a hair''s breadth, losing a few strands off the side of his ears with each of the dozen dodges that followed. His silver-blue fur was scattered to the wind, but he ignored his presentation and sidestepped until he found an opening. He struck with his fist, an antler growing from its tip and barely missing the duke''s frame.


    Virillius'' blade crashed straight into his exposed wrist, but his god-forged armour held true, not even bending beneath the backbreaking pressure. Digging his hooves into the ground beneath him, he pushed the younger moose back with a powerful grunt and delivered another swing of the spear. The runes engraved into his cloak lit up, concealing not just the cervitaur, but his weapon as well.


    He employed not a standard cloak of invisibility, but a goddess-blessed cloak of true stealth. Its effect was fueled by a divine force that Primrose herself had fed. It silenced his footsteps, hid his figure, and filled the surrounding air with a stuffy floral scent that left the general¡¯s nose without a response.


    From his divine veil, he struck, driving the tip of his spear towards Virillius¡¯ core. The soldier himself remained unmoving, but an arm made of blood erupted from one of the vials mounted on his waist and grabbed his blade, disengaging his stealth. A second hand erupted from a flask on the opposite side of the blood mage¡¯s body and morphed into a saw as it whipped towards his victim.


    When his weapon met the king¡¯s armour, he concentrated his magic and invoked his right to sever. The godforged armour was not so easily destroyed; he was unable to cut straight through it, but he cleaved a piece off its side as his concept won over the diamond defense. Equipped with an identical enchantment, his shieldlance flew towards the king¡¯s exposed face, but a gust of wind knocked it astray. A sharpened blade of the same make met the general¡¯s arm, but it was unable to get past his skin.


    He had already died to Dewdromn¡¯s blades. They would not be able to harm him again.


    Backing away, Ferdinand raised his spear with two hands and called for the wind to calm.


    All of the oxygen within the arena stalled to a perfect standstill. It sat exactly where it was in space, stubbornly refusing to budge, no matter the circumstances. That, of course, included the oxygen within his opponent¡¯s body. Virillius¡¯ blood was unable to manipulate it. It was the divine artifact¡¯s trump card, an infinite sky entirely under its direct control.


    In one moment, Virillius suffocated to death. And in the next, he was back on his feet, completely unaffected by the wind that the other man had seized.


    Because it too was barred from harming him again.


    A grimace in his heart, the king moved onto the last of the three plans he had prepared.


    Rearing up onto his back legs, he called upon his ultimate skill and invoked the divinity that flowed through his veins. He closed his eyes and channeled the power of all seven hundred thousand that had, throughout history, acknowledged him as divine.


    As the aspect of the raging wilds, he embodied the relationship between predator and prey, the very moment where the hunter and the hunted reached the end of their joint performance and became as one. He himself was neither, but also both at once, existing only in the frame that the two overlapped.


    When he lunged at his prey, it would be devoured, its death and consumption already inevitable. And Virillius Augustus was no exception.


    His nephew was already in his spectral jaws by the time he took off the ground, his concept unresisted. He was crunched, torn to bits, slain.


    But again, Virillius was not defeated.


    He appeared two steps away, pristine as ever, not a single drop of blood atop his body.


    Just as the king had predicted.


    He had known, going into the fight, that it would be a struggle. Because as the Aspect of War, Virillius was not allowed to perish when faced with an ability ranked ars magna or higher. If slain, he would be restored in perfect condition, immune to the effect that had bested him. It was a disgusting skill befitting the rank of ultimate¡ªa true trump card that ensured he could only be truly defeated by an individual capable of dismantling him with nothing but their most basic abilities. While he was allowed to make use of every card in his hand.


    Ordering his death was as simple as finding the right person.


    But no such person existed.


    Not in Cadria, nor the known world.


    Still, the king refused to yield. He lowered his stance and charged as he roared with a battlecry infused with all the raw belligerence of the war goddess herself. He would need to overcome his limits and beat Virillius in close quarters. Spurred on by his raw energy, he delivered a flurry of blows with the spear. He attacked one, two, ten thousand times, each flowing perfectly from the last. But even with his antlers thrown into the mix, the eleven-horned king¡¯s offenses fell short.


    Every single one was parried, no matter how desperate or unorthodox it may have seemed.


    Virillius countered only after he exhausted himself, fifteen seconds¡ªthree hundred thousand and seventy six strikes¡ªlater. He delivered another heavy blow to Ferdinand¡¯s flank, digging past his armour and into his flesh. A blade of blood was bashed into his helmet from above, forcing him to face the ground, followed by a kick that raised his head back towards the sky.


    His hazy, unfocused eyes fell upon a bloody shieldlance, Vella¡¯s claws beneath the brilliant sun.


    ¡°Yield. Tell me Constantius¡¯ whereabouts.¡±


    ¡°I refuse.¡± He gurgled the words out through a mouthful of blood, before swinging his spear again, but it was stopped, caught by a hand made of blood and lowered with raw strength far eclipsing his own. ¡°I shall take them to my grave.¡±


    ¡°Then so be it.¡±


    The general lowered his blade.


    And felled the crown of another king.

 Chapter 214 - Tentacles and Ashes VI

    Chapter 214 - Tentacles and Ashes VI


    One full week.


    One full week of fighting was what it took for Claire to grow sick of murdering eldritch monsters and seek the distant mountain. All their other business had long been resolved. They had informed the Cadrian vanguard of their discoveries, and the lyrkress had gathered as much experience as she efficiently could. The amount granted by the locals had fallen off the edge of a cliff once she passed level 350, and she had learned enough of their approach to combat that there was little to be gleaned from continuing to challenge them. It was following that realisation that she finally began spending her ability points. Sixty two were put into vitality, bringing it to the 5000 threshold and nearly doubling her maximum health. Spirit was raised to the same value to bolster her resistance to magic, but the rest was left untouched.


    Claire was not the only one sick of fighting eldritch abominations. Sylvia had escorted the other three back to the previous floor so that they could battle against the gargoyles instead. None of them were opposed to the act of grinding levels itself; everyone but Matthias had entered the dungeon with growth as one of their primary goals, and fighting its creatures was the perfect way of doing just that. But the amount of experience they gained was simply too little to justify the ninth floor as an efficient source.


    Being quite satisfied with his own power level already, the party¡¯s resident mantis was more interested in the thrill of the fight itself, and would have been glad to hunt the tentacle-eyed freaks, but his responsibilities kept him tethered to his liege.


    The group joined up again soon after Claire declared that she was done. Through the power of the magical fox hat and the wormholes she ripped in the dungeon¡¯s fabric, Arciel, Matthias, and Natalya found themselves stepping atop the Claire express not too long after takeoff. There was, of course, no reason for them to drop what they were doing and join her, but they too were suffering from the lack of fresh prey. They weren¡¯t hunting the monsters for money; if they wanted to grow, they would need to move on.


    The better part of three hours passed before the party finally closed in on its destination. Claire had not proceeded at an idle pace, speeding up to the point where a bubble was needed to keep the winds from harming her passengers, but the sheer distance to be covered provided enough time for the others to nap.


    They were still a ways away from the base of the mountain, twenty kilometers, maybe thirty, when the fog thickened. Its purple shade grew more intense, but it served as a veil no longer. It was the same phenomenon they had experienced upon entering the village¡¯s boundaries, and it once again provided the ability to gaze upon the sights of an arviad civilization.


    Around the giant triangular landmass was an incredibly busy airspace, crowded with all manner of birds going to and fro. Some were carrying cargo ten times their weight. Palettes of stone bricks, weeks of food, and legions of chicks were all common sights. But even more attention-grabbing than the disproportionate loads tied to the carrier pigeons¡¯ feet was the city that lay at the mountain''s base. It was an expansive metropolis that formed a ring around the towering summit. It was thicker in some places and thinner in others, but on average, extended two to three kilometers out from the base. And while it was certainly a surprise to see, Claire was not entirely caught off guard by its presence. She had understood, from all the villages she had wrecked, that the civilization lurking within Skyreach Spire was much like Kal''syr''s fallen kingdom. It was an ancient settlement that had been taken in by a dungeon and incorporated into its geography.


    In spite of being spirited away and locked behind the nests of powerful monsters, it was a wonderfully beautiful city, a civilization that had survived the tests of time and isolation. And while Claire certainly did see it for what it was, she also considered it an infinite buffet, a horizon filled with prey, ready to be devoured.


    The dracoqilin allowed the delusion to last for a moment before shaking her head and purging the thought. There was no denying her urge to consume, but having given in three times already, she had resolved never to lose control again. It was too undignified, unbefitting a woman of her standing. Gorging herself on the abominable chickens was no different from eating only from a table''s centerpiece¡ªa breach of etiquette that only a child would indulge.


    That was why her breath had been her weapon of choice. The magical glands in her throat ensured that she would not be able to feast upon the bodies of the dead. Boris had still pitched in, of course, but for the most part, he had been relegated to playing second fiddle. The lizard was fine with the arrangement. He was bored of the ninth floor already, and the less he had to participate, the more time he could spend napping his days away.


    ¡°Okay, first things first, Claire, we are not attacking that city.¡± Natalya spoke as she carefully looked over the settlement, sweeping her eyes from left to right.


    ¡°They¡¯re monsters. Just stop thinking about it and it¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t what this is about. I gave up on thinking about morality when we toppled the first village.¡± The Paunsean sighed. ¡°Do you see how many of them there are? They could easily take us out with wave tactics alone.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Claire recalled the thousands of winged monsters she had slain on one of the previous floors before she slowly descended beneath the treeline. Her frame was massive, but she was not the largest snake-thing flying through the sky. ¡°All that means is that we can¡¯t attack it without a plan.¡±


    ¡°Do you see how many of them there are?¡± Natalya pressed a hand to her forehead. ¡°Whatever you come up with better be good enough to take out at least a couple hundred thousand soldiers,¡± she grumbled.


    The claim was met with an excited chirp. ¡°I, for one, think we might as well just charge in and push our limits.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shut up, Matthias.¡± The cat pressed the pommel of her blade against her forehead. The cool steel was nice and relaxing, just the right temperature to take her mind off the incoming headache. ¡°I¡¯ve had it up to here with you.¡±


    ¡°Shame. I would¡¯ve expected a berserker like you of all people to understand the beauty of pushing forward.¡±


    ¡°I am fairly certain that you are the only one that sees any beauty in slaughter,¡± said Arciel. She slid off Claire¡¯s back as she spoke and planted her feet firmly on the ground.


    Unlike the two Vel¡¯khanese locals, who had immediately returned to supporting their own weight, Natalya slid onto the qiligon¡¯s snout and looked her in the eyes. ¡°So how are you going to put together this plan of yours? I figure you¡¯ve got something in mind at least already.¡±


    The lyrkress nodded. ¡°First, we¡¯ll have to infiltrate the city and gather information. It¡¯ll come together from there.¡±


    Lia buried her face in her hands. ¡°That¡¯s as good as saying you have no idea where to start.¡±


    ¡°I concur,¡± said Arciel. ¡°We look nothing like them. Any attempts at infiltration are likely to end in failure.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. She can fix that.¡±


    Claire magically floated the foxgirl off her head and held her up in front of the critics.


    ¡°H-huh? I can?¡± asked the half-elf.


    ¡°You just have to make us look like the locals, with your illusions.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ ohhhhhh¡­ yeah, I guess that means I can.¡± She stuck out her tongue and awkwardly scratched the back of her head. ¡°I totally forgot.¡±


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    ¡°Of course you did. Stupid fox.¡±


    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s rude!¡±


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t. It¡¯s just the truth.¡± Both halfbreeds shrank down to their usual sizes as Claire magically tossed the cat off her face. ¡°Now stop yapping and do it.¡±


    ¡°Ughhhhhh¡­ Fine.¡± Grumbling something or other about tyranny and unfairness, the half-elf brought her paws together with a muffled, fluffy clap. She repeated the motion rhythmically, a slow beat with a brief pause before every third smack, eventually adding her voice as another instrument. It started as a low hum, reminiscent of the songs passed down through the mountainfolk¡¯s lines, but it transformed as she continued, its melody growing wilder and more haphazard. Their surroundings were filled with illusions, their eyes flooded with visions of lives led by others, culminating in a gradual crescendo whose final note was left unplayed.


    They were all birds by the time the performance was complete, each with a web of lies burned into their minds. Claire was a carpenter who had pursued the craft after escaping a household made entirely of smiths. Natalya was an underperforming athlete addicted to performance-enhancing drugs, Arciel was a merchant that engaged in shady dealings to stay afloat, and Matthias was the daughter of a well-off landowner, kidnapped by the aforementioned shady merchant. Even Boris was given a role; he was turned into a metal statue, a piece of stolen artwork that the carpenter had taken from her old home. Merchandise aside, the group had met after joining a nameless, criminal organisation, and had agreed to work together to secure the most profitable ventures.


    ¡°Why did you make all of us men? Except the stupid mantis?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Wait, you can tell?¡± The fox had turned into a giraffe ball, albeit one with glasses on all of his heads to signify his relative intelligence. ¡°And how did you even know that one was Matthias!?¡± Each of her words were spoken by a different head, sometimes with an awkward pause between them.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t take much to put two and two together,¡± grumbled the tawny owl named Clarence.


    ¡°Well uhmm¡­ I thought it¡¯d be kinda fun,¡± said the giraffe ball named Sylvester, with a giggle. ¡°And it¡¯ll be a better disguise too, since even if we do something, they¡¯ll probably be looking for a different group or whatever.¡±


    ¡°We really do look just like the locals,¡± said the tentacle-winged hawk named Nathaniel. ¡°This is incredible, Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Thanks!¡± chirped the orb. ¡°This is actually only the spell¡¯s second level. There¡¯s a third level above it where I can make you forget that you¡¯re you and stuff so you can be even better at sneaking around.¡±


    ¡°It would allow us to correct our manner of speech, perhaps, but I suspect that such a drastic change is unnecessary,¡± said the monocle-adorned crow named Arthur.


    ¡°Yeah, and not to mention, I¡¯d rather not forget who I am, even if just for a bit,¡± said Nathaniel.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard it isn¡¯t as bad as it sounds,¡± said the discoloured puffin named Matilda.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not,¡± said Clarence.


    ¡°Yeah, I know! That¡¯s why I didn¡¯t do it,¡± huffed the giraffe-fox, with two heads on what must¡¯ve been his hips. ¡°Now let¡¯s go!¡± Another three pairs of heads grew out of the side of his body and flapped like wings, carrying him back into the sky.


    When Clarence followed suit, he found his movement irregular. His wings felt a lot weaker than usual, like they weren¡¯t able to push the wind as well, and his body continued to move even when he stopped flapping, slowly drifting through the air, following a trajectory almost identical to that of the giraffe¡¯s.


    ¡°Oh, and uhmmm¡­ try flapping your wings like, once every two or three seconds, since that¡¯s how it¡¯s gonna look most natural. None of you are really flying, only kinda sorta fake flying?¡± Sylvester tilted one of his many heads.


    ¡°This is¡­ much more difficult than I had always assumed,¡± said Arthur. His feathery black wings moved strangely. They would never undulate when he flapped them, like any of the others, behaving instead as if they were made of long pieces of wood.


    ¡°Oh uhmmm¡­ that¡¯s just because you¡¯re trying too hard to control them,¡± said Sylvester. ¡°Just relax. It¡¯s supposed to be mostly automagical.¡±


    ¡°That is much easier said than done,¡± muttered the crow. ¡°How is it that the rest of you have already mastered it?¡±


    ¡°Claire and I have wings, and these operate in much the same way,¡± said Matilda.


    ¡°Geez, what the heck Matilda! You have to call him Clarence ¡®cause we¡¯re in disguise! Actually wait, you shouldn¡¯t even know what his name is. So¡­ uhmmm¡­ you should call him mysterious kidnapper B!¡± The giraffe brought one of his heads to his chin. ¡°Oh and you guys¡¯ wings are more real than the other two because you actually know how to use them.¡±


    ¡°That certainly explains their lack of difficulty, perhaps, but Nata¡­ Nathaniel¡¯s movements appear no less natural,¡± said the shady merchant.


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know what I¡¯m doing either,¡± replied the hawk in question. ¡°I¡¯m just flapping them, and I¡¯m not really sure why it¡¯s working.¡±


    When Arthur raised a brow, the most giraffe-like scoundrel breathed a sigh and pressed a face to his brow. ¡°I told you! It¡¯s ¡®cause you¡¯re trying too hard. You just gotta let the wings do their thing if you want them to work properly. They¡¯re not like your hair-tentacle thingies that need you to micromanage them all the time.¡±


    ¡°I do understand that, but could you please reconfigure them like Clarence¡¯s and Matilda¡¯s? I suspect I would have a much easier time if I was given more granular control.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fine.¡± Sylvester puffed up his cheeks. ¡°I guess I might as well since you¡¯re gonna look all weird and stuff anyway.¡± He clapped two of his heads a few times before continuing. ¡°There, all done.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± The crow flapped his wings backwards; the tips appeared to lead the bases, which moved around on the bird¡¯s body in a way that couldn¡¯t possibly have been natural.. ¡°That is much better.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but now they¡¯re all squiggly¡­¡± The giraffe ball was despondent at first, but perked up as he gazed upon the city, one of his heads stretching ten its previous length. ¡°Wait a second, what¡¯s that over there?¡±


    ¡°Where?¡± Nathaniel cast his hawk-eyed gaze in the giraffe¡¯s direction. ¡°It appears to be some sort of procession¡­¡±


    ¡°A procession? Whatever for?¡± asked Arthur.


    Nathaniel scratched the back of his head. ¡°I¡¯m not sure, but it seems rather important. There are locals perched all around and watching them go by.¡±


    ¡°Then let¡¯s get closer and find out,¡± said Clarence, after failing to make his eyes perform their usual telescopic functions. ¡°We should blend in well enough.¡± His ears were just as impotent, and the sensory deprivation as a whole left him too fidgety to settle down.


    ¡°Yeah, come on! Hurry up!¡± Sylvester was already flying on ahead, one of his heads spinning like a propeller.


    ¡°Wait, hold on!¡± shouted Nathaniel. ¡°Don¡¯t we need some sort of vehicle or something if we want to transport Matilda while staying inconspicuous?¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah, right.¡± A small box appeared in the air in front of them when the giraffe hummed. It was a tiny enclosure, measuring about a meter in each direction. ¡°We can just cram her in here. Oh, and the statue of Borbola too.¡±


    ¡°That looks a little too cramped for both the lizard and I,¡± muttered the victim.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the point! Oh, and don¡¯t worry it¡¯s a lot bigger than it looks on the inside.¡± The giraffe grabbed the puffin and shoved her into the container before she could object any further. The floating statue was jammed in right after, in part through the application of a little bit more than a little bit of force. Once the lid was set, he strapped the whole contraption to a random part of his ball and resumed his airborne trek.


    Closing in on the city revealed that its buildings were made primarily of sticks, with bits of mud and clay to fill the gaps. They were entirely primitive, but few of them looked the part. Each home and office had its own unique design and floral arrangement, and looked as if every homeowner was trying his utmost to outdo his neighbours. The sheer amount of freshly picked foliage required to put everything together was made possible only by the dungeon environment. Without the infinitely regenerating forest, they would have long bled their surroundings dry.


    The various shops and office buildings were all the same way, and the flowers were often arranged in such excess that it was impossible to tell where one building began and another ended. But while the decorations and the busy housewives actively working on them were certainly sights worth beholding, the group¡¯s attention was stolen by the parade marching down a particularly wide-open street.


    It was even fancier than they had first imagined. There was even a marching band playing in front of the cavalcade, its avian members sporting a wide variety of instruments. There were horns, drums, and even lutes, albeit strange ones made of clay, shaped so that they could be easily manipulated by a pair of talons.


    Arthur watched enraptured, paying careful attention to the strange but lively music played by the band¡¯s members. Clarence, Matilda, Nathaniel, and Sylvester, on the other hand, had frozen for a completely different reason.


    Their movements had stopped when they realised that it was a coronation. Atop the throne, held up by a dozen muscular flamingos, sat a newly christened queen, one that was not a bird, but a bovine of the sea.


    One whose name, most would have agreed, was either Marc or Marcelle.

 Chapter 215 - Tentacles and Ashes VII

    Chapter 215 - Tentacles and Ashes VII


    ¡°These stupid disguises were entirely unnecessary.¡±


    Clarence grumbled under his breath as he watched the procession from his place in the sky. Marcelle was not the only foreigner present. A more careful look at the crowd, which he had largely disregarded, revealed a number of the adventurers that had been aboard the ship. Some kept themselves covered up, but others were out in the open with their identities exposed, even in the faces of the armed guards that marched by Marcelle''s side.


    ¡°Oh, come on. It¡¯s a nice change of pace!¡± said the giraffe ball.


    ¡°Maybe. But I¡¯d rather not be whatever this is.¡± The scalewarden sucked the magic out of the bubble around her and returned to her usual form.


    ¡°Boooo. You¡¯re no fun.¡± Sylvester puffed up all his cheeks. ¡°You¡¯re the one that told me to disguise us in the first place.¡±


    ¡°I know. But at this rate, she,¡± Claire pointed at the crow, ¡°is going to make us look suspicious. We might as well just be ourselves.¡±


    ¡°I mean, I know he¡¯s weird, but I¡¯m sure he¡¯s gonna get used to it eventually!¡±


    ¡°Is my behaviour really that bizarre?¡± asked Arthur. ¡°I was under the impression that it was a fair imitation.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s definitely¡­ a little bit off,¡± said Nathaniel. ¡°Half the time, it looks like they¡¯re flapping backwards, and the other half, they look like they¡¯re wriggling instead.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I kept trying to tell you that you just needed to let them do it on their own,¡± said the giraffe, with a sigh. ¡°Come on, Claire! Why do you have to be such a spoilsport?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll make it up to you later,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°You will?¡± One of Sylvester¡¯s faces wagged up a storm as sparkles filled his eyes.


    Claire paused briefly, before placing a hand on one of the misshapen abominations¡¯ heads. ¡°Once we¡¯re out of the dungeon.¡±


    ¡°That better be a promise!¡± Disappointment already completely forgotten, Sylvester rolled atop Claire¡¯s head and sat in his usual spot.


    ¡°It is.¡± The lyrkress prodded what she assumed to be her pet¡¯s main nose before turning back towards the procession. ¡°Does anyone have any idea what Marcelle¡¯s doing here?¡±


    ¡°Who is this Marcelle?¡± asked Arthur. He extended a tentacle and played with his monocle as he spoke, incessantly adjusting its position.


    ¡°The idiot on the throne.¡±


    ¡°You mean Agent Snufflepuffs?¡± He realised his mistake when only Matilda responded with a look of understanding. ¡°The manatee with a cross on her forehead, yes?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s Marc,¡± said Sylvester.


    ¡°Marcelle.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shut up, Claire! Marc is pretty much just short for Marcelle so it doesn¡¯t make a difference anyway!¡± He tugged on his mount¡¯s ears, abusing them the same way said mount often abused his cheeks.


    ¡°Yes it does. Marc is a name for bald, muscle-brained idiots, not flying sea cows.¡±


    ¡°That makes no sense! Why do you even think that!?¡±


    ¡°It makes perfect sense. You would understand if you knew more Marcs.¡±


    ¡°Matters of etymology aside, I was not aware that Agent Snufflepuffs had another name,¡± said Arthur.


    ¡°Wait a second¡­ You guys called her Agent Snufflepuffs?¡± Sylvester¡¯s faces twitched. ¡°What the heck! That¡¯s way cuter than Marc!¡±


    ¡°I was under the impression that it was a fitting choice, but she refused to accept it.¡±


    ¡°Made it so we couldn¡¯t register her as a mount proper,¡± grumbled Matilda. ¡°Not being able to use tamer skills made riding her a pain, but we couldn¡¯t pass her up. She¡¯s the only small mount we have that can fly.¡±


    ¡°Wait a second!¡± Nathaniel pulled open his notebook with a tentacle and flipped through it. ¡°So this is why you said Marcelle was involved with an organisation that was trying to overthr¡ª¡± The hawk was silenced with a remote beak pinch.


    ¡°Not so loud. Idiot,¡± said Claire. ¡°Pollux¡¯s men are here.¡± She pointed at the crowd, or more specifically, at the centaurs standing within it. ¡°They might be able to hear us. They have bards and sound mages.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± The bird of prey cleared his throat with a cough. ¡°Sorry. It¡¯s just that things are finally clicking into place. The only thing that I don¡¯t get is why she¡¯s here in the first place.¡±


    The statue of Borbola climbed out of its box and made a series of gestures, but the lyrkress shoved it back into the container before anyone could make sense of them. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Enough complaining. Let¡¯s focus.¡± She followed by grabbing the hawk¡¯s shoulders and spinning him around so he was facing the cow. ¡°Something¡¯s happening.¡±


    The parade had arrived at a grand temple in the middle of town. Its architecture was completely unlike that of any seen in Cadria or Vel¡¯khan. It was made primarily with sticks like most of the other buildings, but the seams were filled with a blue-grey clay and fired to hold their shape. As a whole, it was a large square chamber topped by a pointed dome. Its base was adorned with flowers, leaves, and bits of peeled wood, nothing unusual with the local standards considered. Its roof, however, had shingles of solid gold. Their shape was standard, and each was almost exactly twenty meters long and seven across. Each contained the image of a bird, likely a past monarch, as well as a bit of illegible, foreign text, accompanied by a series of numbers.


    A portly owl stood at the first unblemished shingle. He stole it from its location as the new queen arrived, and with a mighty hoot, leapt from the roof with the giant bar held between his wings. He landed safely in spite of the added weight, his talons meeting the bright blue carpet, and his waist twisting into a grandiose bow. Somehow, his headdress remained stable throughout the process. The eye-catching orange turban budged not an inch, remaining perfectly fixed in place with no clips or bindings to hold it.


    He remained in position, his body lowered until the ruler stepped off her seat and flubbed her way across the tapestry. She made a whining sound when they met, prompting the man to rise. He stepped out in front of the crowd and offered his words, cooing, cawing, and squawking at inordinate length. His magic swelled as he spoke, gathering not around himself, but the golden plate still in his grasp. Thick, powerful tentacles grew from his back as his words grew more fervent, carving within the enchanted monument a perfect inscription of the queen, and with it, a singular line of text denoting the monarch¡¯s name.


    The golden plate rose into the air when the carving was complete, with the hundreds of others peeling off the grand temple to join it. They were arranged in a line, Marcelle¡¯s portrait at the far end. Each of the golden renditions raised a wing, starting with the first king, his successor, and so on and so forth. When it came Marcelle¡¯s turn, it was not her illustration, but the manatee herself that performed the motion. A piece of the gold peeled off the slab as she did, etching a crown into the metal plate and forming another atop her head.


    The previous rulers¡¯ epitaphs whirled a large circle around her. They chanted with booming voices even in death and fired rays of brilliant, multicoloured light. The beams converged and diffused, joining as one to form the jewels that adorned the manatee¡¯s headdress. Bright rubies, brilliant sapphires, glistening emeralds, forged not from the pressures of the earth, but of the magecraft of her forefathers.


    When the hat was finally complete, the golden slabs lost their vigour, each drifting to its rightful place in the order that it was removed. The owl was gone as well, having quietly stepped off the stage while the manatee stole the audience¡¯s eyes. But the ceremony had yet to end.


    Its next step came after a moment of silence. The members of the audience pressed wings or tentacles to their beaks. Their hearts burning, the citizens closed their eyes and prayed, a cacophony of noise, as the same sounds were made. Quietly at first, but with more ardor and passion each time they were repeated. And it was right as it grew beyond the point of reason that the mountain answered the call.


    It almost looked like an eruption. A pillar of light shot from its highest peak. The mountain¡¯s ejaculate formed into a single glob and flew a full circle around the city, leaving trails of silver in its wake before finally landing in front of the queen.


    Claire¡¯s lips twisted into a frown as she looked upon the entity called. Its body was covered in layers of gold and silver, a dress as expensive as it was tasteless. Its face was hidden by a veil, but its frame and pink feathers confirmed its identity as the so-called divine protector she had dueled.


    Meltys of Arviandor bent a knee before the throne, standing only after having her shoulder patted by the woman she owed her deference. Permission granted, she spun around, faced the people, and quacked at length. It was another fiery speech, filled with passion, but it caught the attention of exactly zero lyrkrian observers. Even the words spoken in Marish were outright ignored, for Claire was focused more on the bird''s divine magic than she was the duck herself.


    Something about it was wrong. She was unable to determine what it was exactly, but she was plagued with the very same sensation that had gripped her during their first encounter. She had been unable to identify its cause when in combat, and she had been unable to recall the specifics following her escape. Now that she had it in front of her again, she could finally scrutinize it with all the necessary care and attention. And yet, she found herself unable to put a finger on the answer.


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    She had no idea why it creeped her out.


    It just did.


    ¡°Sylvester.¡±


    ¡°Mhm?¡±


    ¡°Does something about the bird¡¯s divinity seem off to you?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ her divinity?¡± The orb propped up one of his faces with two of the others and narrowed his eyes. ¡°Hmmm¡­ Errr¡­ Uhhh¡­ Not really? All I can really tell is that she¡¯s got a whole buttload of the stuff.¡±


    Claire frowned, lowering her gaze from the lingering spell to the podium where the duck stood.


    ¡°Is it supposed to be weird?¡± asked Sylvester.


    ¡°It makes me feel sick.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s this about divinity?¡± Nathaniel awkwardly flapped his way through the sky and inched over to the half-bred pair.


    ¡°The bird has some. And it bothers me.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± The hawk blinked. ¡°Wait, you can sense divinity?¡±


    ¡°Mhm! Both of us can,¡± said the orb. ¡°I think it might be more surprising that you can¡¯t. Divinity¡¯s really in your face and kinda annoying.¡±


    ¡°That is because it is the power that holds the very world¡¯s fabrics together,¡± said Arthur. ¡°As commonly said among those of the church, it shall remain ever present once you have opened your eyes to it.¡±


    ¡°Wait, you can sense divinity too? Why am I the only one left out?¡± grumbled Nathaniel.


    ¡°I am one of the few priestesses to the goddess of the moon that has been fortunate enough to earn her favour,¡± said Arthur. ¡°I awoke to the ability to see it upon the receipt of her blessing. Perhaps the same could befall you, if you were to dedicate yourself to her worship. I am sure that she would appreciate a subject so capable.¡±


    ¡°Leave the solicitation for later.¡± Claire jabbed a finger into Arthur¡¯s face and moved him half a meter away. ¡°I have my plan.¡±


    ___


    The group joined in the celebrations, eating and drinking until the night fell. Some of the locals, like the owls and the nightingales, were still out and about even in the wee hours, but most of the city¡¯s residents had retired with the sun. It was incredibly quiet, the only sounds coming from the wildlife that lived in the surrounding forest.


    Insects and predators made up most of the calls they heard, but both groups shied away from the town. The bugs were food for the birds, and knew better than to stay around, while the predators steered clear of populated city centers in general. Tough and monstrous as they were, their pack leaders knew that the arviads were simply too plentiful¡ªthe same reason that Claire had given up on their complete and utter extermination.


    Her breath attacks cost anywhere between ten and fifty thousand mana. Even at their weakest, she could use them no more than thirty times before running completely dry. The rapid pace of her regeneration allowed her to nock another shot once every two to three minutes, but such an interval was unlikely to suffice with a massive horde bearing down upon her.


    In such a situation, a hit from the divine protector could send her on a downward spiral with her demise as its final destination. She had gained too many levels; she was no longer capable of killing a few stray locals and regenerating as she had in their first encounter. Hence the more subtle approach.


    Their destination was twofold. First, they would stop by the new queen¡¯s chambers and question her. And then, they would move atop the mountain and challenge the divine protector.


    Perhaps because all of them, including a less-than-willing Clarence, had been re-disguised as locals, intruding upon the temple palace was a much easier task than expected. There were dozens of soldiers spread throughout its premises, patrolling the skies and ground in tandem. The group was spotted on more than one occasion, but they were ignored, just like every other group of drunks on site. Still, the defenders were removed. One by one, the tawny owl paralysed them with his eyes and ripped them apart with his vectors. Their corpses were left in the building¡¯s shadows, to be discovered the following morning.


    There were a number of rear and side entrances available, but the not-lyrkress went through the front. It was hardly a reasonable choice, but neither was it entirely irrational. The number of guards stationed outside the front door was no greater than the number stationed outside any other exit, and he was confident that the forward approach would lead any potential investigators to assume it was the result of a drunken rampage.


    When he crept through the entrance, the owl found himself in a beautiful atrium. It was almost completely empty. There were two men standing in the foyer, but a swing of the lizard statue silenced both before they could cause a commotion.


    The layout was not an intuitive one. There were three hallways shooting off in different directions, alongside a grand staircase leading up to the second floor that featured a similar split. Guided by his detector skill, Clarence walked up the stairs, took a sharp left, and made straight for the end of the hall. The guards standing outside the manatee¡¯s chambers resisted when he froze them with his eyes. The paralysis barely worked on them, lasting a fraction of a second before breaking. But before they could act, both men were subjected to a ruthless choke. He applied a trio of persistent forces to their throats, pinned them against the wall, and squeezed their necks with enough pressure to crack their spines.


    In spite of their wounds, one of the men tried pounding on the door, while the other began to cast a spell, but Nathaniel dashed forward and, with his rapier in his beak, slit both their necks before they could follow through.


    They waltzed straight into the room soon after and found the familiar manatee plastered on her bed, sound asleep with a bottle of wine tucked under each of her flippers.


    ¡°How shall we awaken her?¡± Arthur walked to the curtains and flung them open.


    ¡°I have an idea.¡± Clarence retrieved two of the bottles and popped off their corks. Their sweet, tangy scents wafted through the air until their openings were obscured, plunged inside the sea cow¡¯s nose.


    With his tentacles, the abyssal horror lifted the lard ball¡¯s neck and tasked gravity with his dirty work, the world¡¯s natural forces directing the fluids down pipes they were never meant to explore. Marcelle¡¯s eyes shot open a moment later. She coughed and sputtered as she waved her flippers in front of her face, but the tiny limbs were unable to reach the bottles stuck in her nostrils. When she tried to lower her head, she met a rock hard resistance. Clarence kept his tentacles, and the manatee, perfectly locked in place.


    It took her a solid minute, but she eventually broke free by raising the back end of her body into the air and dislodging the bottles with a shake of the head. Once liberated, she turned towards the uninvited guest and greeted him with an angry drum of the belly.


    ¡°That was for ignoring me when you saw me in the crowd earlier.¡±


    Marcelle took a moment to stare at the mysterious man, focusing on his face for a solid five seconds before tilting her head in confusion.


    ¡°...You are even dumber than I thought.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s going to recognize you with your disguise on,¡± said Nathaniel. ¡°Manatees don¡¯t have anything that¡¯d help them see through it.¡±


    ¡°She should still be able to tell.¡± Grumbling, Claire slashed the bubbles with her tail, draining their magic and revealing the group¡¯s identities.


    Marcelle opened her eyes wide before turning on her back and slapping her sides.


    ¡°Who else would I be? Idiot.¡±


    The manatee squeaked and squealed, huffing and puffing as she placed a cup over her spout and ejected the liquid that filled her lungs.


    ¡°What responsibilities? All you¡¯ve done is get drunk all day.¡±


    Voicebox still whirring, Marcelle stood up on her rear fins and placed her front ones on her belly.


    ¡°Right. I¡¯m sure,¡± Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°Now explain. Why are you here?¡±


    The sea cow was despondent at first, grumbling about something or other, but soon broke into a lengthy explanation, stringing together sentences that included every sound a manatee could produce. She looked at Claire when she finished, roughly two minutes later, an expectant glimmer in her eyes.


    ¡°Are you stupid?¡± But it was met instead with a tail-prod to the face. ¡°I didn¡¯t catch a word you said. We don¡¯t speak the same language.¡±


    The manatee tilted her head and laughed, only to be prodded again.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a joke. I¡¯ve never understood you. You¡¯re just easy to read.¡±


    Marcelle groaned and lowered her head, curling it inwards so she could roll around in the air with her fins on top of her skull.


    ¡°Geez, Claire, you¡¯re being too mean. Stop bullying her,¡± said Sylvia. Leaping onto the not-bovine¡¯s head, she cleared her throat and stood up on her hind legs. ¡°What Marcelle meant to say was that she has no idea what¡¯s going on. They suddenly decided to do all this weird stuff to her because she beat a tubby seagull in a race. Oh, but she likes the wine and all the other stuff that they¡¯re giving her.¡±


    There was a moment of silence. The lyrkress looked on expressionlessly, while the cat scribbled away in her book and the vampire raised a brow. Matthias didn¡¯t even bother participating. He was standing by the door, his scythes prepared in case of intrusion.


    ¡°Warp her somewhere else.¡± Claire eventually spoke, her eyes a miffed glare. ¡°She¡¯s just going to get in the way if she stays here.¡±


    Marcelle clapped her fins and shook her head.


    ¡°You know what? Fine. You can stay, if you want,¡± said Claire, with another tail poke. ¡°But it isn¡¯t my problem if you get caught in the crossfire.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what crossfire?¡± asked Lia. ¡°I thought you said we were going up the mountain.¡±


    ¡°We are.¡± The lyrkress turned her face and evaded the catgirl¡¯s stern, accusing gaze.


    ¡°Claire? What are you hiding?¡± The book-obsessed feline moved to the other side of the room and entered the longmoose¡¯s field of view.


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    Again, the lyrkress turned away, and again, the cat chased her eyes.


    ¡°Claire?¡±


    The lyrkress breathed a sigh when her name was called again. ¡°Well, we¡¯ve got to come back down the mountain eventually¡­¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you can blow up the city!¡± cried the cat.


    ¡°Pollux¡¯s men will do it even if I don¡¯t. I¡¯d rather keep the experience myself, even if there isn¡¯t much of it.¡±


    The cat sighed. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you have to kill them. Can¡¯t we have Marcelle make a royal decree and have everyone evacuate?¡±


    ¡°There isn¡¯t anywhere for them to go.¡±


    Claire walked to the window and looked outside. ¡°They might be able to scatter, but I doubt they¡¯d live for long. Most of them are civilians, too weak to handle the monsters.¡±


    ¡°And that is disregarding the obvious conclusion that the populace is unlikely to obey,¡± added Arciel. ¡°Perhaps it is not this way in Paunse, but it is not uncommon among avian species to develop inseparable ties with the lands of their birth. I do not know if the arviads are as the tribes of the rainforest, but I suspect that they would choose to take up their arms over resorting to a migration. Still, I do not condone their slaughter, Claire. If they are to die, then let it be by the Marquis¡¯ armies.¡±


    Claire looked between the two before lowering her hood further over her head. ¡°Fine. See what happens for yourselves then.¡±


    Pulling her ears back, she assumed her true form and shot towards the summit. The guards tried to stop her, but she ignored their efforts and upped her speed, her tail flickering and her mood as sour as a pickled plum.

 Chapter 216 - Tentacles and Ashes VIII

    Chapter 216 - Tentacles and Ashes VIII


    The palace¡¯s guards flew after the intruder, but dropped like flies, one by one. Each was frozen in turn and left to plummet back down to the earth while Claire sped away unmolested. The others chased after her in a hurry. Sylvia¡¯s bubbles allowed them to stay within range, but the longmoose couldn¡¯t be bothered to turn around and pick them up. She was hardly in the mood to talk to those that wouldn¡¯t listen to her merciful suggestion. None of them understood what it meant to be an unplundered city before the Cadrian war machine.


    ¡°Whatever. It isn¡¯t my problem.¡±


    Muttering the dismissal out of her breath, she pushed herself to go faster, pounding her wings against the air as she soared towards the summit. They were already a dozen kilometers above the ground, so high up that the snow had taken hold, but the mountain¡¯s peak was still far away. The stone fortress was rife with plantlife, even in its everfrost crown, but no other creatures were present. There were no squirrels to collect the nuts, no insects to pollinate the flowers, and no bats to harvest the fruits. Only trees and shrubs as far as the eye could see.


    The ecosystem was maintained entirely through the dungeon¡¯s functionality. Fruits that fell to the ground would be deleted without a trace, their nuts would be unceremoniously removed, and dead trees were replaced not with sprouts, but fully grown individuals inserted by the system. That much was clear from the state of the forest and the lack of new growths, but it made little sense. The lack of change made it feel unnatural, uncanny, like something was off even though it was more perfect in theory, a snapshot of a moment crafted by a divine.


    ¡°Claire!¡± A shout pulled her from her thoughts before she could analyze it in detail.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Well, uh¡­ Are you still mad?¡± It came from the fox, who had paddled on ahead of the rest of the group. She zipped past the scalewarden and landed on her snout, her ears twitching while she fiddled with her tail.


    ¡°I was never mad.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right! If you weren¡¯t mad, you wouldn¡¯t have suddenly taken off like that.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. I was testing the guards.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh.¡±


    Ignoring the furball¡¯s remark, Claire threw back her head and looped around to grab all the others. She popped their bubbles in turn, landing them on her back as she resumed her climb at a more gentle pace. She was still bitter, of course, but the fresh air had cleared her mind.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t need to burst their bubbles,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I think they¡¯re probably gonna need them ¡®cause the air is kinda starting to get a bit bad.¡±


    The statement was met with a tilt of the head.


    ¡°I mean uhm¡­ it¡¯s kinda hard to breathe because there isn¡¯t really much oxygen and stuff, and the mist is kinda noxious too.¡± Sylvia put a bubble around each person¡¯s face as she spoke, the half-snake the only exception. ¡°I think you just don¡¯t notice ¡®cause you don¡¯t really breathe.¡±


    Claire tilted her head even further. ¡°I breathe. I¡¯m breathing right now.¡± She inhaled, taking deeper breaths than usual for emphasis.


    ¡°Yeah, I know, but it¡¯s not like you actually need to breathe, right?¡±


    Another degree was added to the longmoose¡¯s tilt.


    ¡°Like uhmmm¡­ Like how you don¡¯t actually breathe underwater.¡±


    ¡°I still breathe,¡± said Claire. ¡°I just breathe water.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure that¡¯s the same thing,¡± said Lia, with an awkward smile. ¡°But Sylvia¡¯s right. I was starting to find myself a little bit short of breath.¡±


    ¡°I, for one, found processing the air outright impossible,¡± said Arciel. ¡°And as for Matthias¡­ I believe him to be struggling even with the fox¡¯s magic.¡±


    Following the squid¡¯s eyes, she found that the mantis¡¯ body had gone from a bright emerald green to a deep blue. His mandibles were twitching uncontrollably, and he was extremely lethargic, barely reacting to all the curious looks that suddenly found themselves on him.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he insisted, with a click of the jaw. ¡°I would sooner die than miss the opportunity to fight the divine protector.¡±


    Claire shrugged and turned her eyes back on the summit. Sylvia mirrored the motion, but none of the others found themselves in agreement.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s the best idea,¡± said Natalya, with a strained smile. ¡°You¡¯ve already lost most of your fireproof gear.¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t matter,¡± he said, between laboured clicks. ¡°You don¡¯t have any either, and it isn¡¯t like it was ever all that useful.¡±


    ¡°Matthias, I believe we agreed that you were to step in only in the case that I was in danger again?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be in danger as soon as the fight begins.¡±


    ¡°Of course. I was a fool to think that you would obey orders¡­¡±


    Sighing, the witch adjusted her hat and unfastened her hair. A few dozen strands detached from her ponytail and formed a particularly long tentacle that slid past Lia¡¯s shoulders and lightly prodded the fox sitting up front.


    ¡°Mmmnn?¡± Sylvia turned around with a tilt of the head. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°Might I ask for a favour? I wish for you to whisk this idiot off to wherever it was you sent the manatee.¡±


    ¡°Wait! Princess! I promise I¡¯ll stay put! At least let me watch!¡±


    ¡°Uhhmmmm¡­¡± Sylvia looked between them.


    ¡°His complaints are irrelevant,¡± said the squid. ¡°He falls under my command, and it is under my orders that he is present.¡±


    ¡°No! Please! No matter what you do, do not send me away!¡± He breathed as quickly as he could, his rear inflating and deflating like a pump. Despite his efforts, his skin was still mostly discoloured, with only a few bits here and there returning to the usual shade.


    ¡°Do not mind him. Proceed.¡±


    ¡°Well uhm¡­ okay.¡± Sylvia drew a circle with her paws, and after opening a portal behind the mantis, pushed him through it with a wave of the tail. He flailed as best he could and even hooked his scythes on the portal¡¯s sides, but he was unable to resist the magical displacement for long and soon found himself on the other side.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s a little late to be asking, but where did you send him?¡± Lia pulled out her notebook as she watched the rift close.


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    ¡°Back to the city,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯s the only place I could really think of, except for maybe the boat.¡±


    ¡°That sounds safe enough,¡± said the cat. ¡°I just hope Marcelle doesn¡¯t get caught up in something while we aren¡¯t looking again.¡±


    ¡°I know, right!? That silly goofball¡¯s gotten herself in nothing but trouble,¡± giggled the hat.


    They continued to chat until Claire crested the mountain and shot above its peak. Though its top half had been covered in layers of ice and snow, the very tip was entirely devoid of the cold. It was also not as sharp and pointy as their distant perspectives had otherwise suggested. The summit ended in a large plateau more than a hundred meters in every direction. Its entrance was situated by a flight of stairs made of a thousand steps, which was further preceded by a jagged path leading up the side of the mountain''s horn.


    Around the mesa lay a small forest, a garden of deciduous trees that lacked the ability to thrive as they had so far above the clouds. The plants themselves were as abnormal as their circumstances, their leaves jagged and purple as the noxious mists. But strange as it was, the vegetation played second fiddle to the temple that occupied the summit.


    Like all the other arvidian buildings, it was made almost entirely of sticks and clay. The walls, however, were more processed than the standard fare. The only dead plant matter visible upon it was paper, large white sheets with a faint brownish tint cut to perfectly fit the walls¡¯ dimensions. There were illustrations inked upon the pages, paintings of ducks and the opponents they fought, their deaths fueled by depictions of the protector¡¯s purifying flame.


    While none of the dungeon¡¯s other temples bore any semblance to a god¡¯s domain, Claire found that the one laid out in front of her stirred the power resting within her bones. But it wasn¡¯t the same. What she felt from it was not a searing pain, a roar of dominance that could not be resisted, but a horrifying disgust. Her proximity alone fueled the urge to vomit, a sensation that only grew stronger the longer she looked.


    Rearing her head back, she began charging her throat with mana, but she stopped short of unleashing it. She gulped the breath back down, dispersing the raw magic through her circuits as she lowered herself in front of the front gate.


    ¡°Why¡¯d you stop?¡± asked Lia.


    The lyrkress stayed silent and ushered the others off her head before returning to her humanoid form. She trudged up to the door, speaking only as she raised a hand to its frame.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t feel like it.¡±


    ¡°What about the plan?¡± whispered the cat. ¡°Weren¡¯t we supposed to start with an air raid?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re changing it. Just trust me and play along.¡± The snake rapped her knuckles against the wood. She barely touched it, but there was a resounding echo on the other side of the door, likely the result of one spell or another. ¡°There¡¯s no point in winning if I don¡¯t do it the right way.¡±


    ¡°Uhm¡­ I mean I kinda get it, but I think you¡¯re just being silly,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I know.¡± The lyrkress bit her lip. ¡°But she¡¯s a warrior. She deserves this, at least.¡±


    ¡°Iunno if that really even matters,¡± said the fox. ¡°You¡¯re gonna be trying to kill her in a few minutes anyway.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    The door opened before Claire had a chance to elaborate, revealing a sleepy looking pink duck that immediately snapped awake upon seeing her visitors¡¯ faces. She took a moment to stare before slamming the gate shut and locking it behind her.


    Eye twitching, the lyrkress knocked on the door again. Her strikes grew more powerful and vigorous with time, pestering the temple¡¯s owner until she finally gave in and swung the entrance open.


    ¡°This is a holy site, not a place for a villain like you,¡± spat the duck. Her previous, disheveled appearance was gone; her messy feathers had been pruned back into place, and she wore not a nightgown, but a series of black, priestly linens carefully embroidered with layers of gold. It was the sort of appearance that demanded respect, the sort of thing that one would only wear in hopes of being acknowledged by the divine,.


    ¡°I have a request.¡± Claire, however, was unfazed.


    The duck glared at her briefly, but opened the door wider after a brief delay. Her tentacles remained on the charms near her waists throughout, ready to retaliate in case of a lyrkrian attack. ¡°Fine. But the demon,¡± her eyes shot briefly to the intruder¡¯s hat, ¡°stays outside.¡±


    ¡°H-huh? Demon? I¡¯m not a demon! I¡¯m a fox!¡± cried the satanic beast.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care what claims you make, demon, you¡¯re not allowed inside,¡± said the duck. ¡°The rest of you are free to enter, but this is my shrine, and we will be abiding by my rules. Step out of line, and I will immediately burn you to a crisp.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on!¡± cried the forest critter. ¡°Claire¡¯s just gonna argue with you until you let me in any¡ª¡± Sylvia spoke until she was lifted off the aforementioned vehicle¡¯s head and floated away. ¡°Wait, Claire!? What the heck!?¡±


    ¡°Stay there until we¡¯re done.¡±


    ¡°Huh!? Wait a second! Claiiiiire! You can¡¯t just ditch me!¡±


    For all the shouting she did, little of it was to any effect. Feigning deafness, Claire walked through the door, dragged the other two inside, and shut it behind her.


    Sylvia ran at the entrance and pushed on it with a more-than-insignificant amount of force, but it failed to budge. She was repelled by a barrier when she tried to float above it or dig underneath. She even tried to teleport her way in, but the spell ended in failure and left her exactly where she was.


    While she struggled to get through, the others followed the duck into a large building and down a series of paper-lined halls. Several turns later, they entered a guest room whose far wall featured a revolving door made of a clear quartz. The translucent structure made up half the room¡¯s length and provided an entrance into a bright, moonlit courtyard, lined with beautiful, purple flowers.


    There were no chairs in the room, only finely polished roosts that sat just off the floor. At the center was a large bowl-shaped table already set with a gourd and several shallow dishes. The home¡¯s owner waddled inside and situated herself atop one of the platforms facing the table. With her wings, she gestured for her guests to join her. They did attempt to follow, but found it difficult to seat themselves atop the thin beams of wood.


    The bird filled five dishes with the gourd¡¯s contents and passed one to each visitor, before downing her own serving in a single gulp. Claire eyed the murky liquor, but soon swallowed it as did their silent host. It was a potent drink, strong enough to burn the insides of her throat, but not in a way that was unpleasant.


    ¡°Why are you here?¡± The bird spoke after all of the guests, including the lizard, finished their first servings.


    ¡°To stab you,¡± said Claire, nonchalantly. She formed a small piece of ice in front of her index finger and fiddled with it, twirling it around her fingertips as she kept her eyes on the discoloured bird. ¡°Fight me. You don¡¯t have the right to refuse.¡±


    The bird raised a brow. ¡°Do you know who I am?¡±


    ¡°A stupid duck.¡±


    ¡°I am Meltys, the divine protector of Ariandor.¡± She spread her wings and unleashed her divine aura. ¡°I am a god. You cannot defeat me.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°You are far too weak and frail to be a god.¡± She crushed the ice in her hands as she spoke, after shaping it into a familiar avian form.


    ¡°I am far from weak.¡±


    Meltys slowly brought the tips of her wings together and emitted a pulse of divine energy. The squid, the cat, and the moose all sprang to their feet with their weapons ready, but only the lattermost held her position. Natalya dropped her sword and clutched at her throat, whilst the mage wobbled backwards with her chest heaving and her face turning pale.


    She stopped choking as her tattoos began to glow, but she continued to pant, gasping for air through the bubble wrapped around her head.


    Meltys kept her eyes focused on the lyrkress, waiting, but Claire was unaffected. The curse had washed over her like a calm summer breeze.


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t one of Builledracht¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°I did nothing but remove my protection and allow the land to afflict them with its blight,¡± replied the bird. ¡°Now choose. Leave in peace, or watch them die.¡±


    ¡°Are you blind, stupid, or both?¡±


    The curse-resistant dracoqilin rolled her eyes as she grabbed the cat with her tail and called upon her own divine force. Golden energy flowed through Natalya¡¯s body, purifying the rotting malediction that had flooded through her circuits. She offered to treat Arciel the same way, beckoning with her rear appendage, but the mage shook her head and steadied herself with her staff.


    ¡°This is but a minor affliction,¡± said the vampire. ¡°Griselda¡¯s blessing shall cure it momentarily.¡±


    Nodding with her tail, the lyrkress called her lizard into her hands and pointed him at the arviad. He morphed as she moved him, turning into a glaive with a long jagged tip.


    ¡°Divinity alone doesn¡¯t make you a god.¡± She peeled back her hood with a vector, fluttering her ears as she assumed her lyrkrian form. ¡°But if you really are, then all the better. Slaying a deity will do wonders for my classes.¡±


    Meltys shot the snake-moose a glare as she extended her tentacles and grabbed the talismans hanging off her waist.


    Negotiations had failed.


    It was time for violence.

 Chapter 217 - Tentacles and Ashes IX

    Chapter 217 - Tentacles and Ashes IX


    Arciel was the first to strike. Her tattoos as bright as the moon, she pointed her staff at the bird and commanded a wave of shadows to swallow her. Flames erupted from Meltys¡¯ core and obliterated the attack, just as they had during their first encounter. But they were barely effective.


    Because it was no longer the middle of the day.


    A second wave surged to replace the first, followed by a third, and a fourth, and a fifth. Beneath the moonlight, there was no limit to the amount of darkness at the mage¡¯s beck and call, and the fire did her target no good. For though the flickering flames were bright, they inevitably cast more shadows than they destroyed.


    Lia dug her feet into the ground and joined the assault with a shout. Already knowing that her opponent was powerful, she pulled none of her punches and drew upon the full extent of her might. She consumed a quarter of her health as she ripped her blade through the air, its tip whistling as it cut down everything, everything in her path.


    The table was turned to scrapwood.


    The building was rent in two.


    The plateau was carved into a slippery slope.


    The bird had tried to dodge out of the way, but even delayed by the compatibility between wielder and weapon, she found herself on the receiving end of the savage strike. It tore through her shoulders, cleaved through her bones, twisted through her lungs.


    A wave of shadows filled the fresh holes in her body, tearing at her flesh and turning her blood against her. They bought just enough time for the cat to prepare a pair of runes. One, she drew with her tail, an inscription to trade her sanity for power, while the other she carved into the bird¡¯s body¡ªthe mark of false stasis, her ars magna.


    Claire leapt behind the bird, swinging Boris as she passed. The lizard¡¯s edge flashed through the night, cutting everything from the waterfowl¡¯s chest to the bottom of her bill. Flames surged from the wounds, firing the shrine¡¯s clay walls, but he was impenetrable, completely unharmed by the blazing inferno.


    The lyrkress nulled her momentum with a flap of the wings as she spun around for a second strike, but a powerful eruption burst from within the duck¡¯s body. The billowing flame swelled, forcing all three of the duck¡¯s challengers to escape the burning building. Claire fired a beam from her free hand and threw a block of ice with her tail, but neither attack made it past the flaming veil.


    The damaged parts of Meltys¡¯ body were replaced by her piercing white flames. Her bones, her feathers, and her flesh were all seamlessly turned from pink to white. The damage done was not by any means negligible, but the divine protector¡¯s face never warped with pain. She wore only an annoyed frown throughout, quacking angrily without a hint of panic or confusion. Her attention was spent not on her enemies, but the shrine and those that lay within it. There were two panicked ducks sitting in one of the freshly exposed rooms, both of whom had been protected by a wall of wooden talismans and a floating metal shield.


    After confirming their safety, the firehawk rose into the sky whilst scattering a second batch of talismans. They were placed all around the grounds, thrown into place to form a dome around the battlefield. The thousand wooden structures attacked in turn, spewing jet after jet of pure white flame.


    The cat paid no mind to the incoming projectiles as she flew across the grounds, leaping from point to point with none of her usual finesse. She moved on all fours, pouring all her strength through her limbs with every bound. The spells that she could not avoid were parted by the blade in her mouth, still burning as they fell upon her surroundings. She did not always catch the bird, but whenever she did, she would cut straight through her body, leaving a bloody gash that would soon cauterise itself as a line of fire.


    Arciel did not jump into combat as she had before. Standing far behind the catgirl, she lowered herself to her knees and clasped her hands together. Her eyes remained fixed on the moon as she muttered a prayer to her goddess. Her tattoos grew brighter with every word she spoke, lighting up the darkness like the beacon that held her worship.


    Meltys swarmed the priestess with her flames, but Claire stepped between them before she could interrupt her chant. Boris cut right through the fire, just as Natalya¡¯s rapier had before him.


    It was after thirty seconds of chanting that the prayer finally bore fruit. A beam of light rained down from the moon. Its tracking was perfect, impossible to dodge even as it turned from an indicator to a powerful attack a thousand times brighter than any pure flame.


    Meltys raised her wings and charged them both with divine power, but the piercing lunar ray burned past her defenses, searing her feathers and boiling her skin. Both limbs were completely obliterated, leaving not a bone behind, but the rest of the bird remained even as the light faded. Her limbs returned as flames, but she was never given the chance to confirm their function.


    The swordsman leapt from a building¡¯s roof as the bird made a bid for the skies, pinning her down and overpowering her with her blade. Every defense that the bird put up was swept aside and punished with a slash. None of the wounds were particularly deadly, but many were deep enough to expose the bone, until they were covered with fire.


    The duck dug her paddles into the ground as she emitted another nova, a massive blast of fiery energy that forced the cat to fall back. The second explosion came with a high-pitched whirr, followed by a change in the ambient temperature. It rose rapidly, one, two, thirty degrees, turning the plateau into a boiling sauna.


    Natalya was largely unaffected, only breaking into sizzling sweat, but Arciel was not as resistant. Her flesh began turning red. Even with the moon goddess¡¯ protection, she was unable to resist the heat. The bird made an attempt to finish her by throwing her fiery sword, but both the target and its murder-weapon-to-be were displaced by vectors. One was turned towards a wall, while the other was thrown out the front gate.


    The weapon¡¯s loss had little effect on the holy arviad. Meltys wreathed her whole body in flames and tore at the berserker with five different tentacles, two from her wings, two from under her legs, and one from the inside of her mouth. They danced through the air like whips, striking the cat and burning through her slender frame. Her body was not as quick to yield as either of her allies¡¯, and it fully regenerated when she enraged again. But while her flesh could see itself rapidly restored, her armour was in tatters. Much of it had already turned to ash, and the few pieces that remained left her in a state that could hardly be described as decent.


    A lack of armour did nothing to stop the catgirl from proceeding with utmost violence. She cut and slashed and slashed and cut, taking hits to land her own as only a berserker could. Her sword was constantly juggled between her hands and her mouth as she delivered blow after deadly blow. By the third time she enraged, the attacks were already heavy enough to completely ignore Meltys¡¯ attempts at defense. Everything she used to guard was cleaved right through, be it flesh or flame.


    The catgirl led with her sword, but her claws were just as lethal, the invisible astral blades that had come with her second ascension tore the bird apart, leaving large gashes even as her hands appeared to fall short.


    Claire joined the fray after one such attack. She landed with her talons extended, crushing them into the duck¡¯s exposed back. Once again, it was the lyrkress¡¯ body that gave when they touched. The flesh melted off her bones. But her skeleton refused to burn. With it, she ripped through the fire and destroyed her victim¡¯s spine. Wherever she touched, the duck¡¯s body crumbled, turning from flesh to ice, and ice to dust.


    Boris was much more successful. Like Natalya¡¯s weapon, he cut straight through her skull, carving her head in twain without suffering the retaliation that plagued his master.


    The bird crumbled beneath their combined weight, her body seemingly broken. The wounds she sustained were certainly mortal, and Claire¡¯s ice had even quenched some of the otherwise eternal flames bursting from the bird¡¯s core.


    Still, she rose. Meltys swept a tentacle towards Claire¡¯s underside and forced her to back away before making a mad dash for the sky. The whirring sound grew louder, and her heat more intense as her body was once again restored in a burst of blinding fire.


    Natalya¡¯s sixty second timer ended halfway through the healing process. An uncountable number of magical slashes obliterated every last inch of flesh that remained. The powerful blows ate away at Meltys¡¯ structure, dulled her flames and ripped her heart to a mess of inexplicable bits. But no log entry followed. She still refused to die, reforming out of nothing, around a glimmering, silver pendant.


    It was during the second regeneration process that she bolstered her offense. The talismans swirling around them lit and merged, turning into a storm of lances that threatened to swallow halfbreed and cat alike. Claire spread her arms and crafted a barrier of ice, but her defenses failed to hold. The burning wood punched right through shield and flesh in turn.


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    Lia healed some of her wounds by sinking deeper into madness, but the torrential flames were relentless. The spell continued to assault them, over and over, leaving no room for retaliation. Claire threw up a second barrier after her rear legs were seared and charged it with her divinity, converting it to an igloo of true ice. But even that was incapable of fully warding off the flames. The holy energy in her element was slowly drained as contact continued. It began to turn, to change back to its fragile, mortal, meltable state.


    Gritting her teeth, Claire dashed towards the temple¡¯s front door. She opened a hole in her barrier as she did and threw the injured cat at a miffed-looking fox before sucking what was left of the shield¡¯s divinity back into her body. She funneled it, and another twenty points, into a small iceborn dagger, and cut apart the flaming pillar giving chase.


    With its divine force spread over a smaller area, the ice held true, retaining its shape as she came to a sliding stop beyond the shrine¡¯s walls. But while its form was unchanged, hers was not. She turned humanoid as she regained her footing. The damage that plagued her talons was transferred to the soles of her feet; they were without skin, muscle or blood, but the nerve endings were certainly still present, complaining with all the volume of a lost child. Claire ignored the pain and imitated her foe by growing out her skeleton. More ice to substitute the missing flesh. Her runecloak morphed as well. She kept her breastplate, but the rest of the metal was turned to leather to better supplement her mobility. It was of a much darker colour, something that would let her blend in with the misty woods.


    While the cervitaur regained her footing, the bird rose higher into the air and chanted a spell of caws and quacks. She gathered not only magic, but divinity in such excess that Claire considered and dismissed an emergency escape. It contained over a hundred times the lyrkress¡¯ total. The pure, silvery energy warped the world around it as it manifested, completely distorting the sky that lay beyond Meltys¡¯ outstretched wings. The stars swirled out of position, warping into a sneer. The moon turned hazy, losing its hat as it was turned to lines of smog. Even the bird herself became unclear, her flames growing, shrinking, twisting and turning with every blink.


    The talismans continued assailing the lyrkress as the fire mage gathered her power, leaving her hardly any room to think. Claire ducked under one searing blast and cut through another before flapping her wings and diving for the protector¡¯s newly formed body. She was no longer a being of flesh, functioning as an avian only in shape. Her trinket-shaped heart aside, she was made entirely of a brilliant primordial flame.


    It was at said heart that the lyrkress aimed. She fired a beam from her chest as she twisted her dagger into a reverse grip and plunged it towards the bird¡¯s core. She was on track to destroy the silver pendant, but a shield¡ªthe one that had previously guarded the divine protector¡¯s family¡ªflew from the half-destroyed building and planted itself between them.


    When the blade failed to pierce the bulwark¡¯s defenses, the lyrkress responded by bashing it with Boris. He switched forms when he found himself unable to damage it, turning into a heavy mallet that weighed over a thousand pounds midswing, only to find the shield still pristine. When the brute force approach proved unsuccessful, the lyrkress zipped past the bird and slashed at her back, but again, her attacks were deflected.


    She narrowed her eyes before throwing Boris overhead. A vector reversed his momentum and spun his blade towards the shrine maiden¡¯s neck. In the meantime, she engaged with her dagger, charging straight ahead. It was a two-pronged attack, perfectly timed so the two would land in tandem. And a two-pronged failure. The defensive implement split in half and blocked both the stabs. She pushed her dagger and pulled her lizard, but neither was able to make the shield budge.


    Each time it was struck, the relic oozed a green mist, spreading into their surroundings a noxious poison that ate away at everything but the fire. For the first time since his ascension, Boris suffered visible damage. His blade melted. And he plummeted to the ground.


    He began to regenerate as he hit the dirt, but Claire did not call him back into her empty hand. She grabbed the shield instead and made an effort to push it out of her way. It saw no trouble resisting her. But she was unbothered; its displacement was not her aim. She wove her dagger past it and struck at the bird¡¯s neck. The seemingly sentient object made an attempt to split in two, but she stole its mana before it could, disrupting the magical phenomenon for just long enough to finally reach her target.


    Her aim was true.


    But her ice was melted.


    The dagger vanished when it touched the arviad¡¯s body, disappearing without so much as a chance to turn to steam.


    Claire pressed on nonetheless and struck with her hands. She continued pushing forward even as the limb was painfully stripped down to its icy bones, plunging it deeper and deeper towards the divine protector¡¯s core. The other horror¡¯s heart was in her grasp. Right between her naked fingers.


    She ordered them to grasp it, to crush it to bloody bits. But she was unable.


    It was right then, right before she delivered the killing blow, that Meltys¡¯ spell was finally completed.


    The mage unleashed a giant pillar of fire. It stemmed from the core that Claire had nearly taken and completely obliterated her hand. Even her skeleton gave, and not because her divinity was drained. Her body was not like the imitations she crafted. Still, it was melted, burned by an excess of heat that caused the very air to ignite and explode.


    She backed away in a hurry, assumed her true form, and curled herself up in a ball. But even cloaked in her divinity, she suffered. Her prided hair was turned to ash, her ears were completely removed, and her lips were fused shut. Her beautiful scales were burnt, charred, discoloured, with many turning to dust.


    There was nothing left of her eyes. They had been destroyed twice over, once by the burst of blinding light, and again by the inferno that followed. But she was not denied the ability to see. More eyes sprung up all over her body, revealing a world purified by a cleansing flame.


    The shrine and its surroundings were gone, the only bits still present were protected by barriers cast by either the invasive fox, or the self-proclaimed god herself. The peak had melted away into a deep, boiling caldera, appearing more like a volcano than it did a giant slab of rock. None of the trees were left, and even the snow that had previously crowned the mountain¡¯s midsection was gone with the wind. The air was noxious, filled with ash and distorted by a dazzling heat haze.


    Nothing but pure rampant destruction, caused by an incarnate of flame.


    It was almost like Meltys really was a god, an avatar of fire that brought irrevocable death. A statement all but confirmed by the action that followed. Because, despite unleashing an attack powerful enough to desecrate an ecosystem, she was already preparing another. The very same words were being chanted. The very same power was being gathered inside her again. But there could not be a second blast. The lyrkress could not allow it.


    A quick glance in the duck¡¯s direction confirmed that her previous strategy was no longer valid. The shield had broken into a hundred different parts, circling her foe at high speed.


    There was no choice but to draw the last trick she had in the hat.


    So she did.


    Claire closed her eyes, grabbed the space in front of her, and invoked it with a twist.


    The air chilled, starting around her, and quickly spreading through the magmatic arena. Large chunks of ice formed in the air, hovering in place like tiny Cadrian castles.


    They were like the bones that the protector had stolen. All of them were true. Even without a divine charge.


    The scenery began to warp as the temperature fell and fell and fell. The ground appeared beneath their feet, accompanied by emerald green spruces, their bristles covered in snow. There soon blew a storm, a gentle breeze that affected not only their pocket of reality, but the dungeon in its entirety. It grew as the seconds passed, its winds turning more violent as more snow fell from the sky. Before long, the petite flurry became a blizzard, an all-encompassing wave of ice and snow.


    It felt like the scene had taken an eternity to form. Because time itself had nearly been frozen, crawling along at only a fraction of its usual speed.


    The bird called upon her talismans in an attempt to burn it all away. But Claire ignored her efforts. Her fire failed to melt the winter, and the volcanic blast she eventually unleashed was just as ineffective. The primordial flame surged from her body, only to be dampened by the bitter storm.


    Had it been a weaker ars magna, like the willow in the western wind, it surely would have broken. Such distortions were inherently weak to powerful bursts of magic, their forms carefully woven of the fabric of the world.


    But Claire¡¯s was nothing of the sort.


    For a simple distortion did not a racial signature make.


    What her concept did instead was rewrite the rules wherever the snow fell. To make the cold, the irreversible glaciation of all, the one eventuality that lay at the end of the road.


    Such was fate, within the realm of eternal frost.


    Every snowflake Meltys touched sapped her health, her mana, her divinity, her speed, her strength, and her stamina. All of it trended towards zero, one tiny tick at a time.


    Had she truly been fire incarnate, a god presiding over an element like she so claimed, she would have been able to break free.


    But she was no god.


    She was a faker. A false prophet that relied on outside powers.


    Now that the bird was trapped in her realm, Claire finally understood. It was never Meltys that was divine. It was her heart. The trinket was an artifact that provided her with an unnatural brand of heavenly energy. And it was that to which the lyrkress had always reacted.


    It disgusted her.


    She hated it.


    So she moved it towards its destination.


    But while certainly distorted, the pendant¡¯s divinity was anything but artificial. There was still an object of worship, an entity with more recognition than faith, offered to it through tens of thousands of years of isolation. The device whirred to life and shook its everfrost cage. But it could not escape Claire¡¯s blade.


    She summoned Boris as she waded through the storm. He was held between her teeth, turned to a sword for the final blow.


    Meltys squeezed out one final attack, a beam that flew from within the frozen flame. But Claire dodged it with a twist of the head.


    It did no damage.


    But by stalling her, even momentarily, it more than paid its due.


    The storm faded away. The icy terrain melted right as Claire slashed at the protector¡¯s chest, vanishing as if it had never been.


    Because the lyrkress was out of mana.

 Chapter 218 - Tentacles and Ashes X

    Chapter 218 - Tentacles and Ashes X


    Meltys¡¯ flames flared to life when the blizzard vanished. They burnt through Boris¡¯ blade, melting it down before he could reach her heart. The bits and pieces of her shield were turned from a defensive matrix to a flurry of blades, each of which was sent crashing into her foe. Those that hit her scales were repelled, but few of the defensive lamella remained. The sharpened, blessed edges wormed their way through the reptile¡¯s weakened defenses, and dug deeply into her flesh.


    Claire ignored the pain and opened her jaws wide. Sacrificing half her face, she clamped the remaining half around the divine protector, grabbing the bird between her teeth and tearing her body asunder. The divinity flowing through her bones was used to bolster her power. She continued grinding her foe down until the duck cloaked herself in fire and burst through the roof of her mouth.


    The lyrkress flapped her wings in an attempt to take off, but a blazing pillar descended from the heavens and cast her back down into the flaming abyss. She grit her teeth as her foe stood over her, roaring as she tried to push herself back to her feet, but she was unable. Meltys advanced, closing in step by step as she continued to barrage her with spells.


    A chain of bubbles appeared between them before Claire could fall and absorbed the flames. But even that was imperfect. The individual layers were burned right through. Being of a standard magical make, the hallucinations gave beneath the holy fire¡ªflames altered to burn all without exception. All they managed was to stop the first wave in its tracks.


    The unperturbed bird took notice immediately and began to charge a more powerful spell, one that would blow right through the illusory defenses.


    But it was never cast.


    ¡°Stop!¡± A humanoid fox butt into the fray with a duckling in one hand and an ominous, rusty dagger in the other. Sylvia began to speak, making her demands, but Meltys heard none of them. She could only look on in confusion and despair as the exact same scene that had played out in her dreams manifested itself in reality. The demon had somehow entered the shrine¡¯s grounds. Despite the hundreds of barriers she had set up to keep her out.


    A quick peek with her divine eye confirmed that everything was as she had foreseen. The city was under attack. It was burning, with explosions ringing throughout as bizarre four-legged birds ran rampant within its walls.


    She fell to her knees, her sacred talismans powerlessly dropping from between her feathers. It was hopeless. Even with Glarchst at her back and his shield in her talons, she had failed in her duty as protector. She was unable to defend the city, or even her own family. It was the worst case scenario, a hellscape painted by the demon of delusion that stood in her path.


    ¡°It was just supposed to be a warning,¡± She muttered to herself as she fell, her face pressed into her wings. The flame that made up her form dispersed, the whirring in her chest came to a halt, and the ambient temperature fell a thousand degrees. ¡°I thought I did enough.¡± She already knew what would happen next. The demon would merrily execute her family. And then her. And then all of Arviandor. Exactly as was foretold.


    But the inevitable never came. By some stroke of fortune or another, she found that her brother was lobbed towards her while her foe was captured within a bubble.


    ¡°Sylvia!¡± Claire snarled, through gritted teeth. ¡°What did I say about butting in?¡±


    ¡°I told you, I don¡¯t care!¡± huffed the fox. ¡°You¡¯re not allowed to die until I say you are.¡±


    The lyrkress pushed her legs against the ground, but failed to get to her feet. Her limbs lacked the strength. She tried turning lyrkrian then humanoid to lighten the burden of her weight, but neither process was successful. Shifting away from her true form was impossible with her strength so depleted.


    ¡°I would have been fine. I still had a plan.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right! You can¡¯t even stand anymore! I literally waited until the last second even though I was worried sick!¡±


    Claire turned her head away, even in spite of all the unnatural creaking that came with moving her neck. She tried mumbling again after redirecting her gaze, but no words left her mouth, only a tired cough. As further protest did not appear to be in her favour, she narrowed her thousand eyes like a cat and allowed the fox¡¯s magic to wash over her. The soothing light rapidly restored both her health and her mana, a thousand points at a time.


    But as comfortable as it was, she was without the liberty to bask in its warmth. The qiligon snapped to attention after half her health was replenished and propelled herself forward with a powerful vector. Stretching her freshly regenerated tail, she lifted a similarly healed Boris off the ground and repelled a metal projectile. One that had been on track to nail the divine protector right between the eyes.


    Meltys shot to her feet and nearly fired a flame at the qiligon, but stopped as she processed the source of the attack. The strike had come from a platform in the air, a paved concrete path that almost seemed to extend all the way down the side of the mountain.


    ¡°She is my prey. Stand down or die!¡± Claire roared as she turned towards the aggressors, but a twinge of regret pulsed through her when she found her targets. There were two of them, both centaurian. And she had failed to speak through her fox.


    She was fortunate enough not to be acquainted with either soldier. One was famous, but she did not work closely enough with the crown to know her from her voice alone. Or at least that was what she hoped. Both were still officers in the Cadrian army. They wore not the standard metal protectors often draped over the footsoldiers, but a set of pristine uniforms to profess their standing. Their badges confirmed that the larger stallion was an ensign, while the smaller mare, whose size barely exceeded that of a prepubescent child¡¯s, was his superior, a lieutenant.


    Along with their nonstandard clothing came nonstandard weapons. The higher-ranking officer had a particularly heavy shieldlance disproportionate to her tiny frame. Its bolt of a tip reeled itself back into her weapon through a heavy mithril chain, thick as her arm was wide. Her partner, who the weapon would have looked more fitting on, had a club plastered with bells, and a shield covered front to back in long, metal strings.


    ¡°It can talk?¡± The stallion swished back his hair and narrowed his eyes.


    ¡°Might be a mutated local,¡± said the mare. ¡°Certainly looks the part.¡±


    ¡°Proceed as planned then?¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    Not bothering to conceal her eyes, Claire straightened her posture and bore her fangs at the Cadrian pair. They would likely listen if she assumed her humanoid form and addressed them as her father¡¯s daughter, but leveraging her identity would do little beyond exposing a weakness for the future. She would have to either take their heads or make an escape. And Claire had no intention of turning tail.


    She opened her mouth wide and prepared to unleash a breath, but a force clamped her jaws shut before she could launch the attack, while another yanked her back into the fox¡¯s bubble.


    ¡°Wait! Stop!¡± Lia entered through the gate before Claire could try again, flagging down the Cadrians with a wave of the arm. ¡°Sorry! Please don¡¯t mind my familiar. I¡¯ve been having a bit of trouble controlling her lately,¡± said the cat, with an awkward smile. Claire had no idea where she had managed to obtain them, but she had gone from her tattered armours to a set of fresh linens.


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    Though miffed, the half-reptile played along and lowered her head to the ground, as if to submit to her supposed master. She did, of course, still prod at the cat. Her giant snout was constantly bumped into the feline¡¯s side, throwing her off balance before the crowd.


    The centaurs exchanged a pair of looks. When the smaller one nodded and holstered her weapon, the larger individual played a quick jingle with his shield and crafted a path that led to the ground. The floating earthen road vanished when he lowered the instrument, leaving not a trace behind.


    ¡°Weren¡¯t you one of the ones in Lady Augustus¡¯ party?¡± asked the mare. ¡°Where is she? Don¡¯t think I saw her on my way up the mountain.¡±


    ¡°R-right, Claire is¡­¡± Lia glanced towards the qiligon, ¡°resting right now.¡±


    There was a quiet quack as the duck opened her mouth to join the conversation, but a pair of vectors pinched her bill shut.


    ¡°I was hoping to capture an extra familiar or two in the meantime.¡±


    Whether she noticed the silent battle or not, Natalya kept her focus on the taller Cadrian. She expressed just enough hostility to keep his eyes from wandering¡ªher stance was low, her tail held straight, and her hand rested near her sword.


    ¡°Right¡­¡± The mare gazed curiously at the duck, before turning her eyes on its new owner. ¡°How has she been lately? We haven¡¯t heard much, since the war with Kryddar began.¡± The mare spoke with a sadistic knowing grin.


    Lia¡¯s lips trembled when she met the undersized centaur¡¯s eyes. She furrowed her brow, clenched her knuckles, and dug her fangs into her gums before finally choking out a response. ¡°She¡¯s doing fine.¡± But after a moment of tension, she relaxed. Her hand moved away from her blade and her frustrated scowl turned into a forced smile. ¡°Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°I was curious as to how far her curse had progressed, and if maybe that was why you were looking for something with so much divine power.¡±


    ¡°C-curse?¡± Lia¡¯s tail twitched. ¡°I didn¡¯t know she was cursed¡­¡±


    ¡°Why else did you think she had to use that strange magical creature to speak?¡±


    ¡°Hey! That¡¯s rude! I¡¯m not strange! I¡¯m super fluffy and adorable!¡± Sylvia popped into existence atop the catgirl¡¯s head. Before she could ask any more stupid questions.


    While speaking aloud as usual, the fox whispered a second set of words under her breath, relaying to the cat that she was meant to play along. Another echo spoke to Meltys, its words finally putting an end to her resistance.


    The precipitancy of her appearance naturally prompted both centaurs to cock their brows. The male reached for his shield, but he stopped when his superior ground her hoof into his ankle and greeted the fox with a nod instead.


    ¡°Well, whatever the case, I was hoping that you would do us a favour,¡± said the mare. ¡°You see, we happen to be interested in the duck you¡¯ve captured. If you don¡¯t need its divinity for Lady Augustus¡¯ sake, then would you consider surrendering it to us instead?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I was planning to tame her,¡± said Natalya, with a strained smile. Her words were relayed from qilin to fox, and fox to cat. ¡°I¡¯d rather not give up such a capable prize.¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t be for free, of course. We¡¯ll put in a good word for you and ensure that you¡¯re fairly credited, and maybe slide you a few pounds of gold under the table.¡±


    Natalya¡¯s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when she heard the figure, but shook her head clear of the temptation and at least tried to stand firm. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Look, we aren¡¯t asking. We can do this the easy way or the ha¡ª¡± The male began to speak, but he was soon silenced with another kick.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind him. He doesn¡¯t mean it, just needs to brush up on his etiquette.¡± The mare stepped forward as she spoke, closing the distance to an uncomfortable two meters, well within range of her nonstandard weapon. ¡°But are you really sure you can¡¯t let go of her? Not even if I make it a dozen?¡± She was still smiling, but her hand drew closer to her spear with every passing moment.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± said Natalya. She was also preparing, getting ready to draw her sword, but the mare suddenly backed off with a hearty laugh, both hands resting on her waist.


    ¡°I see. Well, that¡¯s too bad then. Sorry we bothered you.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­ uhh¡­ No problem.¡± said the cat.


    The mare turned around and began walking away, only to spin around whilst scratching the back of her head. ¡°Oh right, I don¡¯t think I caught your name.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Lia. Just Lia, Armidian Fastpaw.¡±


    ¡°Alright, Lia. I¡¯m Fausta Silvanus, Royal Cadrian Spearlord, and this is Nero. Ask for us if you ever end up in trouble, and we might just be able to help you out, one way or another.¡±


    ¡°T-thanks, I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± said the cat.


    Waving off the cat¡¯s obviously false gratitude, the horse turned to her companion with a snort. ¡°What are you waiting for, kid? Get us down already.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re leaving already? But what abou¡ª¡±


    ¡°No buts. Less yapping, more leaving.¡±


    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am.¡± He glanced hesitantly between the various parties present before raising his shield and playing a quick song. The path appeared under his feet as he strung his notes together, carrying them along until they vanished out of sight.


    Finally released from the forces, a very annoyed-looking Meltys moved between the intruders and her brother. She took a moment to look him over and confirmed that he was unharmed, before directing her gaze around the property, her expression growing more agitated each time she scanned her surroundings.


    ¡°Where is my mother?¡±


    ¡°Oh uhm¡­ Over here.¡±


    Sylvia leapt off the cat¡¯s head and pawed at what appeared at first to be an empty space in midair. The barrier around it vanished, revealing a very confused, brownish-pink duck, accompanied by a blood-drinking caster.


    ¡°Thank goodness.¡± The arviad protector breathed a sigh of relief, before turning towards the enemy that had given her the most trouble. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped as she took a second look at the glorified flying goat.


    Claire stood tall with her ears further outstretched, held as high as they could go. They would occasionally twist out of place, but she never failed to direct them back towards their raised positions. The increased size that came with her true form provided a greater auditory range, allowing her to hear some of the sounds as far as the base of the mountain. Still, she shook her head and grumbled under her breath.


    ¡°They aren¡¯t talking.¡± The stallion had made several attempts to begin a conversation, but the mare had either ignored or silenced him each time. ¡°Elites are supposed to ignore the rules, not follow them to the letter.¡± With the idle complaint out of the way, she lowered her ears and met the bird¡¯s eyes with one of the pairs beneath her chin. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Must we continue? My people are crying for help, and it is my duty to serve as their shield.¡±


    Claire briefly narrowed her eyes, but soon shook her head. ¡°No. But I have a better solution.¡± She turned to the fox. ¡°Sylvia. Can you do me a favour and teleport all of the spelunkers back to the dungeon¡¯s entrance?¡±


    ¡°Huh? All of them!?¡± the fox blinked. ¡°No way! That sounds like a huge pain in the butt.¡±


    Claire bent her ears inwards and crossed them on top of her snout. ¡°I¡¯ll turn small again. For an hour.¡±


    The fox¡¯s tail twitched. ¡°An hour is way too little. You gotta turn small for a day, and let me do whatever I want.¡±


    ¡°W-whatever you want?¡± A tinge of red appeared on the cat¡¯s face. ¡°Wait, what¡¯s this about turning small?¡±


    ¡°Shut up, pervert. It¡¯s none of your business, and no one asked you.¡± Claire flicked the cat''s forehead and knocked her off balance. ¡°Two hours and no doing whatever you want.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on! It¡¯s not gonna be any fun if you just turn small and try to hide or something. Well uhm¡­ actually it kinda might. Maybe like¡­ three hours, and I can do whatever I want if I catch you?¡±


    ¡°One and a half.¡±


    ¡°Huh!? But you just said two!¡±


    ¡°And you added an extra clause.¡±


    ¡°No fair!¡± grumbled the fox. ¡°You¡¯re just being totally unreasonable!¡±


    ¡°Negotiations are not meant to be fair. I¡¯m being very reasonable.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to interrupt, but how would deportation protect my people?¡± asked the bird. ¡°They could easily return in just a few weeks¡¯ time.¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t,¡± said Claire. ¡°But I do know how we can.¡± She turned to Arciel. ¡°All it needs is for you to make your move.¡±

 Chapter 219 - The Witch of Twilight

    Chapter 219 - The Witch of Twilight


    A quiet, somber tune escaped the lyrkress¡¯ lips as she flapped her wings and soared through the ever purple sky. The flight-oriented limbs were of the very same translucent blue cartilage that made up the flippers growing out of her ankles. As a humanoid, the oversized dorsal fins were much smaller, but as a lyrkress¡ªthe form she had assumed mid-flight¡ªthey measured in at over two meters each.


    Sylvia had joined her in singing at first, but she grew tired of it by the end of the first hour and curled up atop the lyrkress¡¯ head for a nap beneath the morning sun. On most other days, the flight would have ended before the vixen tuckered herself out, but Claire had decided to stay out and explore the ninth floor for a little bit longer. Arciel was sure to pull her into a discussion with Meltys if she was free, and there was little she could do to occupy herself and otherwise cite as an excuse for her absence.


    Another Cadrian in her situation would likely have spent her time practicing the martial or mystic arts, but Claire could do no such thing without arousing suspicion. They were certainly guests in Meltys¡¯ space, but the duck had yet to fully warm up to them, and Claire hoped to keep her secrets in case of another conflict. The unorthodox techniques she employed were especially potent when she could catch her foes off guard. More importantly, she saw no reason to allow any witnesses to judge her peculiar choice of style. The combination of her shapeshifting lizard weapon and her ability to nullify her own momentum allowed for heightened control over the battlefield, but the sudden, jerky movements made for an aesthetic unbefitting a lady of her standing.


    It was precisely to preserve said carefully crafted image before their new frenemy that she turned humanoid, transformed her armour into a dress, and carefully combed her hair with her lizard before landing atop the mountain and creeping her way into the temple. All of it had been repaired by the dungeon following the battle; every part of the mountaintop villa was exactly as it had been before. And missing lives aside, the same could be said for the city below. There was not a single spelunker anywhere in sight, be they of a Cadrian or Vel¡¯khanese origin. Sylvia had forced them back onto the ship, and would deport them each time they stepped foot inside and wandered too far.


    One would expect a holy place like the temple to see a great number of pilgrims and visitors, but it was completely devoid of life. The lyrkress¡¯ party aside, the only outsider that would drop by was an old, greying owl. She came every morning in order to remove the wastewater and replenish the supply with a series of buckets freshly drawn from the local spring.


    Everyone else present was tied to the divine protector by blood. There was not a single servant anywhere to be seen, or even an assistant to help them with any of their tasks. The two adult birds did all the cleaning themselves, even with the religious institution having enough space to house a hundred. Lia had offered to help on the first night of their stay, but she was summarily rejected on the grounds that she didn¡¯t do a good enough job. She didn¡¯t let that dissuade her however, and devoted herself to polishing one of the common areas in hopes of earning their hosts¡¯ approval.


    Claire was bored as well, but she had no intention of committing to a task so mundane. She flew straight into her room, and after changing her magical outfit into something more casual, sat atop the bed, crossed her legs, and took a moment to breathe. It was a fresh exercise she had added to her morning routine, introduced to her by the divine protector she had been unable to best.


    ¡°I would have won if the stupid fox didn¡¯t step in.¡±


    Claire closed her eyes as the idle complaint left her lips. She allowed her consciousness to drift inwards, as it often had when she first worked with her mana as a child. But rather than focusing on the raging tides that pulsed through her circuits, she moved her senses deeper, past the layers built into her flesh and into the bizarre skeleton she had acquired upon her ascension.


    According to the bird, it was a lack of understanding, specifically pertaining to her nature, that had prevented her from controlling her ars magna. Claire was reluctant to acknowledge the fault, but with no other leads, gave into the duck¡¯s advice and took a more active approach in interacting with the element that bore her alignment.


    When she beheld the world again, a minute or so into her meditation, she found herself not seated on her bed, but atop a glacier accompanied by an infinite expanse of ice, sea, and sky. Unperturbed by the already routine scene, she phased through the frosted layer beneath her feet and dove into the ocean, where she found a projection submerged beneath the waves.


    The mess of scale that was her true form was roughly twenty meters long. For the most part, she resembled a massive snake with four legs. The forelimbs were tipped with talons, while the rear ones ended in hooves, but they were otherwise identical. Both had large, blue fins growing from their ankles, and both were just long enough to push her a few meters off the ground. The abyssal horror was effectively a chimera. Her cervitaurian and lamian traits had been combined with those of a dragon and a qilin. The draconic resemblance was the most prominent and could be seen especially clearly through the shape of her wings and head. In her chest sat the greatest qilin influence. There was a large horn sprouting from it, a much larger version of the original shard that had nearly killed her once in the past.


    The projection of her body changed when she opened the hundred and forty one eyes scattered all over her body. Her flesh vanished, leaving only her icy frame in its wake. She took a moment to look at her skull before slowly floating over and placing a hand on her snout.


    She could feel the power coursing through it; her bones were a source of elemental power, through and through, and as much as she hated to admit it, she had no idea how she was meant to harness its strength. The most she could do was modify its form with ice manipulation or grow its volume through the use of her divinity. But in both those cases, she was putting power into her skeleton, not drawing from the dormant energy that lay within.


    Casting ice magic provided not a single bit of insight. Her spells cost the same amount of mana as they had prior to her ascension, and were otherwise perfectly pedestrian in nature. Any other mage would likely do better if given one of her bones for use as a catalyst. Even the borroks and volcano whales had drawn on the shard¡¯s power, one way or another. But she was unable. No matter how hard she tried, her body refused to relent. Her skeleton deigned not to serve her as anything but a frame for her flesh and a battery for her divinity.


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    Sighing, she dismissed the hallucination and returned to the real world, where she was still seated on her bed, her legs crossed and her hands in her lap. She took a few deep breaths, cleared her mind, and dove in again, but her second, third, and fourth tries all repeated the result. It simply refused to listen; she could not handle her element the way that the holy duck had handled hers.


    ¡°Whatever. I¡¯ll figure it out later.¡± Claire picked the fox off her head and gave her a light shake. ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn?¡± The critter blinked awake and groggily tilted her head. ¡°Did you need something?¡±


    ¡°Can you make a bubble? The kind with two layers.¡± The frosty longmoose raised a finger and formed a small ball of holy light. ¡°I feel like getting a bit of practice in.¡±


    ¡°Mmk.¡± The overleveled vixen yawned. ¡°Just give me a sec¡­¡± She clapped her paws, wrapping them both in not two, but ten extra thick layers. ¡°There... you should be all set.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Scratching the not-dog¡¯s ears, she took a deep breath and began to manipulate her divinity. Carefully at first, and faster after a brief delay, she moved the holy energy around and around, forcing it to spread out from her bones and course through the circuits spread throughout her body.


    She modified its properties after completing two full cycles, turning it from orderly to chaotic, a pure gold to a melange of reds and blacks. As chaotic energy, it was much harder to control. During the process of her ascension, she could manipulate it freely, but now, she could hardly convince it to move in the direction she wanted, let alone complete a lap around the track without it escaping her body in every which way. If not for the fox¡¯s barriers, she surely would have spun up a whole myriad of problems. The bits that were ejected from her frame did so in the form of ice. Large purple spikes shot from her flesh with enough force to pierce the temple¡¯s walls.


    The spines refused to retract until she returned her chaotic tide to its regular, orderly state. As far as appearances went, the exercise was simple. Its magical equivalent was something that even a child of three years could perform, but with divinity, its difficulty bordered on extreme. Only five minutes had passed, but Claire was completely out of breath. Her brow dripped with sweat, her back was left hunched, and it felt like her entire skeleton was on the verge of collapse.


    There was a strange pain in her chest, originating from the shard and echoing outwards, coursing through the rest of her frame. It was not as bad as the backlash she had experienced the first time she had used her divine energy, but neither was it delayed.


    Her mortal flesh simply could not handle the load. That was why the holy energy was not scattered through her form like her mana, but stored solely in the true ice that was her other failing.


    Gritting her teeth and clenching her fists, she cast her eyes on her status and confirmed that she still had another fifty points to drain. Her total had increased over the past few days, going from 139 to 141. She was tempted to think that it was a fruit born of her training, but Meltys had confirmed that not to be the case.


    Divinity was the opposite of faith. For each individual that held belief in a concept and acknowledged its master as a greater being, said master¡¯s divinity would grow. Only one point was typically provided, but those of greater faith, particularly those explicitly recognised by the greater being in question, could provide more. That was the one and only way it grew. While faith could be cultivated with discipline, divinity was effectively in the hands of the faithful, be they believers in the present or past. Even a brief moment of reliance would bring eternal power to a god, as would swearing in one¡¯s name, regardless of the mortal¡¯s beliefs.


    Because the two concepts contradicted, only faith or divinity could be active at once, with the higher value displayed in one¡¯s status, and the dysfunctional one hidden away. The zealous nature of most societies all but ensured a faith stat in the tens or hundreds. Unless you were high-ranking nobility, of course, or perhaps a god-hating elf.


    Those born to the uppermost crust were taught from an early age to hold their faith, to preserve it so that they could select a god for a cause in the case that the political need arose. It was precisely this preservation that led the gods to value their blue blood. Those in power could easily sway the masses with their words and bring a new wave of followers¡ªa new wave of faith that would bolster a specific deity¡¯s power.


    Of course, to a real god, the ten or hundred thousand points that such a movement generated was but a drop in the bucket, but neither Claire nor Meltys were real gods, despite what the latter had claimed. Both were only twice ascended, too far down the ladder to even dream of breaching the divine border.


    That minor technicality, however, did not prevent their worship, nor the gradual accrual of their divinity, though in the longmoose¡¯s case, she had not the slightest clue as to the source of its growth. While Meltys had a whole nation of worshippers, she had only a group of drunks that had jokingly declared her a deity on another drunk¡¯s whims. It was not as if the idiots would simply propagate, especially if they were convenient enough to unknowingly bring her power.


    ¡°Okay. I¡¯m done.¡±


    Dismissing her status screen and uncrossing her legs, Claire breathed a heavy breath and pulled her fox into her arms. She couldn¡¯t keep practicing. Any more, and she was sure to ache all day.


    ¡°Finally!¡±


    Sylvia transformed as she sat in the other girl¡¯s arms, turning from a forest critter to a full-sized foxgirl.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Claire kept her arms exactly where they were, not moving an inch to account for her pet¡¯s newfound size.


    ¡°Well everyone else is still asleep, so I thought you were probably gonna turn small again.¡± Though unable to move or breathe with the vice grip around her ribs, the four-eared elf fairy relayed her words with no issue. Her reflection had exited the room¡¯s giant dressing mirror and started casually chatting away.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! Stop playing dumb, I know you didn¡¯t forget! You said you were gonna do it if I teleported everyone!¡±


    ¡°...Fine. If you can catch me.¡±


    Grumbling under her breath, the lyrkress shrank to her childlike form and bolted for the hall, but a magical vector locked her in place before she could get out the door.


    ¡°You¡¯re not getting away that easily!¡± A predatory grin upon her face, the fox-elf took a four-legged stance, raised her tail overhead, and pounced atop her disgruntled prey.

 Chapter 220 - The Witch of Twilight II

    Chapter 220 - The Witch of Twilight II


    ¡°Can you let go of me already?¡±


    ¡°Nuh uh, no way.¡±


    A tailless, child-sized Claire endured a number of unwanted pets as her face entertained a miffed pout. She was held captive atop the fox¡¯s lap, restrained in just one of her arms as they sat atop the bed. It was a loose embrace. There was more than enough space for her to wiggle around, but she couldn¡¯t quite break free. The half elf was much too strong, and her arm did not so much as budge when Claire pushed against it. Of course, her struggling was pointless to begin with. At the lyrkress¡¯ own request, Sylvia had constructed a massive bubble around them. The barrier was still as brightly lit as all the others, but according to the forest critter, none could see or move through it without her express permission.


    While Claire was allowed to do the former, poking at the barrier with her foot had proven that the latter authorization had not been granted. That was only to be expected, of course. She was the one who had promised the fairy an hour and a half of whatever she wanted, and Sylvia had every intention of seeing the full time through.


    While she was certainly a degenerate with an understanding of far too many sexual concepts, the fox was not a pervert like the party¡¯s resident cat. The blank check of demands had translated to a tame session of poking, prodding, petting, and snuggling¡ªall the things that Claire normally did to the vixen in her quadrupedal form. But it was precisely that mirrored behaviour that was the source of the lyrkress¡¯ grief.


    She had no issue with any of the close contact and touching in and of itself, but the pet treatment was a blow straight to her pride. The worst part of it all was when the fox made her shake. Truly, the most humiliating task she had ever been forced to endure.


    ¡°How are you not bored of this yet?¡± She crossed her arms and pouted as the fox nuzzled a cheek against the back of her head. ¡°It¡¯s been twenty minutes at least.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s ¡®cause it¡¯s totally different from hugging you when you¡¯re big,¡± the fox gave her another headpat as she continued, ¡°Plus, you¡¯re all warm and squishy and stuff. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever get bored of this.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how those things are related.¡±


    ¡°Well I do,¡± Sylvia wrapped both arms around the tinier halfbreed¡¯s stomach and gave her a light squeeze. ¡°And it¡¯s not like you get bored of petting me either.¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± said Claire, completely stone faced. ¡°That¡¯s why I always put you back on my head after a minute or two.¡±


    ¡°Huh!?¡± The vixen¡¯s hands froze.


    The longmoose could feel her friend¡¯s jaw drop, and looking at the mirror confirmed the display of shock.


    ¡°No way!¡± cried the fox. She waved her arms in protest, her eyes slightly teary. ¡°There¡¯s no way in heck you really get bored of petting me, right? I mean, look at how fluffy I am!¡± Her tail was brought forward and shoved into the smaller girl¡¯s face. ¡°Y-you have to be teasing me, right!?¡±


    Claire tilted her head, as if confused, holding her blank expression for a solid few seconds before finally breaking into a giggle. ¡°Silly fox. Of course I was.¡±


    ¡°Oh whew¡­¡± Sylvia breathed a sigh and half collapsed atop the other girl¡¯s body. ¡°Geez, Claire. You¡¯re so mean. That¡¯s like me saying your ears aren¡¯t good enough.¡±


    ¡°My ears are more than good enough.¡± Claire fluttered the fuzzy appendages like wings as she grabbed the fox¡¯s tail and moved it out of her face.


    ¡°Mmmmnnnn¡­ I dunno. I¡¯ll have to be the judge of that,¡± said the dog, with a teasing grin. She raised her hands to the triangles attached to the lyrkress¡¯ head, but the half-cervitaur¡¯s floofy shapes darted out of the way before she could grab them. Sylvia refused to give up, trying again and again, but her touch was always avoided. ¡°Claire! What the heck!¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Stop dodging.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°But you said I could do whatever I wanted!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault.¡± The bluescale shrugged. ¡°My ears don¡¯t like being fondled. They¡¯re running away on their own.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a blatant lie and you know it! How are you even dodging!? I¡¯m like four whole thresholds faster than you!¡±


    Claire pointed at the mirror. ¡°Your eyes are giving it away.¡±


    ¡°Ughhhhhh¡­ Sometimes I hate how much of a freak you are. Normal people aren¡¯t supposed to tell what other people are thinking by looking into their eyes!¡±


    ¡°Normal nobles are.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right.¡± huffed Sylvia. She took a moment to stare at the massive glass pane before suddenly perking up again. ¡°Oh, I know.¡± Grabbing Claire by the shoulders, she lifted her off her lap and spun her around so they were face to face. ¡°There! Now you can¡¯t look at the mirror anymore.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how this is any better,¡± grumbled her lap moose. ¡°Now I can just look at you directly.¡±


    ¡°Not if I do this!¡±


    The half-elf pulled the lyrkress¡¯ face into her chest and fell back into the bed. She rolled around, almost strangling her pet as she bounced back and forth between the giant mattress¡¯ far sides.


    ¡°I can¡¯t breathe,¡± complained Claire.


    ¡°That¡¯s okay! You don¡¯t even need to breathe.¡± An astral projection spoke as the humanoid hat laughed and giggled.


    ¡°Yes I do.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so silly! I¡¯ve seen you stay underwater for like an entire day without suffocating.¡± Sylvia came to a stop as she spoke, her face planted in a pillow and her pet smooshed between her body and the mattress. ¡°You¡¯d be dead if you needed to breathe.¡±


    ¡°I told you last time. I can breathe water.¡±


    ¡°That just means you don¡¯t need to breathe at all!¡± huffed the vixen. ¡°Okay, you know what? How about we give it a test? I¡¯m gonna make it so you can¡¯t breathe, and you tell me when you feel like you¡¯re running out of air.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    A small bubble appeared atop Claire¡¯s face as she gave her consent, cutting her respiratory system off from the outside world.


    Sylvia stared at the mask for a few moments before breaking into an uncontrollable laughing fit.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Nothing!¡± The fox giggled again, only to be met by a headbutt to the chin. ¡°Ow! What the heck!?¡±


    ¡°Say it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing! I just like being like this with you, I swear!¡± The fox put on her best smile, only for it to crumble when the smaller girl replied with a pinch to the inner thigh. ¡°Owowowowow! Okay, okay! Fine! It¡¯s ¡®cause the bubble mask makes you look funny!¡±


    ¡°Then fix it.¡±


    The complaint was paired with another pinch.


    ¡°Stop that already!¡± cried Sylvia. ¡°Ughhh¡­ why do you always have to be such a meanie? It¡¯s not like it looking silly even really matters anyway. I¡¯m the only one that¡¯s ever gonna see it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like looking funny.¡± Claire made an attempt to sit up and check the mirror, but the fox¡¯s arms kept her anchored to the bed.


    ¡°Oh, come on. Just relax already,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It won¡¯t really be a problem if you don¡¯t think about it, and it¡¯s gonna go away when you finally accept that you don¡¯t need to breathe. Besides, it might be a bit funny, but you don¡¯t look bad, I promise! Even if someone else sees you, they¡¯ll still think you¡¯re really pretty and stuff.¡±


    Claire paused for a moment before breathing a sigh and putting an end to her resistance. ¡°Stupid fox.¡± She grumbled under her breath as she nearly extended her arms, pulling them back right before she returned the vixen¡¯s embrace. The fairy¡¯s humanoid form left her feeling somewhat conflicted. It still seemed strange, and almost unchaste, to wrap her arms around someone that wasn¡¯t her mother, especially given that she was not in distress.


    Not missing the lapse in the other girl¡¯s behavior, her captor squealed and pulled her into her chest again, her tail wagging happily enough to kick up a small storm. Claire could feel a mild irritation swell within her chest, but allowed the fox to toy with her, staying almost perfectly still until the two-legged forest critter finally settled down.


    ¡°Neither of us are anything like our mothers.¡±


    Claire made the statement after a brief moment of silence. Without any context to guide her, the lyrkress¡¯ pet could only look on in confusion, her head tilted and her eyes blinking thrice.


    ¡°Huh? Where¡¯d that come from? And what are you even talking about?¡±


    ¡°Our breasts. I¡¯m talking about our breasts.¡±


    ¡°H-huh!? Why are you suddenly thinking about my boobs!?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re using them to strangle me.¡± The fox¡¯s confused look was met with an irritated stare. ¡°And I just remembered that your mother could put the side of a cliff to shame.¡±


    ¡°Oh uhhhmmm, yeah, I guess she could.¡± Sylvia blinked a few times, before looking down at Claire. She was in a child-like form with a chest as flat as a board, but her regular one was only a little bit better. ¡°Wait, does that mean your mom was a total bombshell?¡±


    The serpent met her companion with a less-than-happy glare.


    ¡°W-what? I¡¯m just being honest!¡±


    Claire continued to stare for a solid five seconds before raising a finger and slowly crafting an icy, serpentine sculpture. ¡°All lamias have large breasts, but my mother¡¯s were particularly exaggerated.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s supposed to be a good thing?¡± Sylvia tilted her head. ¡°Because uhmm¡­ based on your ice drawing thingy, hers are like way bigger than her head. That can¡¯t be practical. Are you sure that¡¯s right?¡±


    ¡°It is,¡± said Claire. ¡°The women in my father¡¯s family are similar as well.¡±


    ¡°Wait, that doesn¡¯t make any sense then! How come you¡¯re so flat? Did everything end up getting messed up ¡®cause you¡¯re a halfbreed?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± The half-lamia shrugged. ¡°I think the size went to my ears instead.¡± She lifted the not-wings overhead for reference. ¡°They¡¯re three times larger than everyone else¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnn¡­ maybe.¡± Sylvia slowly crept her hands up toward the giant triangles, but Claire moved them away before she could reach them.


    ¡°Stop trying.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t! They look so warm and fluffy that I can¡¯t resist.¡± Giving up on catching them normally, the fox moved her hands to the appendages¡¯ immobile bases, but did not quite lay her hands on her goals. She looked at Claire for affirmation instead, but was met with a cold, judging glare.


    ¡°Pervert.¡±


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°You let me touch them all the time when I¡¯m a fox!¡±


    ¡°And what are you right now?¡±


    ¡°Ughhh¡­ now you¡¯re just being difficult for no reason.¡± Sylvia puffed up her cheeks. ¡°I¡¯m still half fox! Look at my tail! And my ears!¡±


    The snake-moose sighed. ¡°Fine. Then you can half touch them.¡±


    ¡°Huh? What¡¯s that even supposed to mean!?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Figure it out yourself.¡± Though her tone was hostile, Claire relaxed her ears, bringing them to their natural positions. Sylvia was cautious at first, only poking at the appendages without fully committing to touching them, but jumped in full force after confirming a lack of further resistance. She ran her fingers down their lengths, rubbing them with all the vigour of an obese, middle-aged man.


    ¡°Okay. That¡¯s enough.¡± Claire pressed her hands into the fox¡¯s stomach and pushed her away. ¡°No more.¡± She encased the triangular appendages in a thin layer of ice, leaving enough space for hearing, but not enough for touching.


    ¡°Aww¡­¡± The fairy pouted, her ears and tail drooping.


    ¡°I said half touch,¡± grumbled Claire. ¡°Not full touch. Pervert. Idiot. Child molester.¡± She jabbed a finger into the tip of Sylvia¡¯s nose with each complaint, each attack slightly more violent than the last.


    ¡°But you said I could do whatever I wanted!¡±


    ¡°Because I was not expecting you to act like the cat.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on!¡± cried Sylvia. ¡°If Lia was the one doing it, she¡¯d probably drool all over them! I just want to play with them because they¡¯re nice and soft and fuzzy!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡± Claire sighed. ¡°That¡¯s why I let you touch them in the first place, idiot.¡± She flicked the fox on the forehead and sat up. ¡°But here,¡± she motioned towards the shared seat. ¡°It just feels inappropriate.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice. ¡°Oh¡­ oooooohhhh¡­ uhmmm¡­ oops. I didn¡¯t mean it like that, I promise!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Claire smiled, softly, as she opened up the sliding crystal door with a vector and walked out into the garden. ¡°Now stop pouting and follow me.¡± The bubble stretched as she moved, growing just enough for her to reach the plants.


    ¡°Huh? Wait! Oh my gosh!¡± The fox tilted her head, only to wag up a storm and jump after her pet in the next moment. ¡°Thanks Claire, you¡¯re the best!¡± She toyed with the fuzzy handlebars as she spoke, scratching and prodding as she examined them in detail. ¡°Why do centaurs think of ears like weird sex things anyway?¡±


    ¡°Good question.¡± Claire paused briefly, the answer was delayed both by the need to think, as well as the need to stop herself from accidentally punching the person touching her ears. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± The lyrkress knew that head appendages were attractive, and she did often find herself judging based on their size, shape, and appearance, but she had never thought them anything to be enamoured by. ¡°I think it¡¯s a male thing.¡± Members of the larger sex often went crazy for floofers even half the size of hers.


    ¡°Mmmmnnn¡­ kinda like boobs then, I guess?¡± Sylvia tilted her head. ¡°I guess maybe they needed something else to compare if basically all centaurs have giant boobs¡­¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± Claire paused to bring a hand to her chin and touched the object supposedly restricting her air intake. ¡°Are you sure this thing is working?¡±


    ¡°Super sure.¡±


    The scalewarden frowned. ¡°Then get it off my face.¡±


    The fairy¡¯s lips were twisted into an ear-splitting grin. ¡°Only if you say the magic words.¡±


    Claire met the unchanging smile with an exasperated roll of the eyes. ¡°Fine. You were right. I don¡¯t have to breathe.¡±


    ¡°Good girl!¡± The orange-tailed maiden happily patted the moose on the head as she waved her tail to and fro. The rear limb leaked pixie dust as it moved, scattering it throughout their surroundings and melting the mask away. ¡°There! All done.¡±


    ¡°Stupid fo¡ª¡± The former noble lady was still quite unhappy about being treated like a pet, but she was not given the chance to further reflect on the sentiment. A pair of hands dug into her sides right as she began to speak and tickled her straight to high heaven.


    ___


    ¡°Okay. That¡¯s enough.¡±


    Claire slipped out of the fox¡¯s grasp and returned to her usual size when her ears caught wind of a pair of footsteps. The high heeled boots clacked as they marched down the hall, straight towards her room, each step louder than the last.


    ¡°Awww¡­ already?¡± pouted the fox. ¡°It hasn¡¯t even been all that long!¡±


    Claire glanced at the clock before rolling her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s been three hours. I promised you half that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know, but still¡­¡±


    A soft smile appeared on the moose¡¯s lips as she grabbed the fairy by the cheeks and gave her a light tug. ¡°It¡¯s okay. It doesn¡¯t have to be the last time.¡±


    ¡°Wait, really?¡± Sylvia perked up, just in time for a flick to land right between her eyes. ¡°Ow!¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Claire stuck out her tongue as she walked up to the mirror and examined her dress.


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait! Claaiiiiiire! You can¡¯t just send mixed messages like that! I can¡¯t tell if that was supposed to be a real no or not!¡±


    ¡°It was and wasn¡¯t.¡± Adjusting one last piece of embroidery, the noble lady returned to the garden and pinched the fox-person¡¯s nose. ¡°It depends on my mood.¡±


    ¡°Wait, that means¡­¡± The dog leapt towards the pet, nearly tackling her to the ground with a glomp. ¡°Thanks Claire! You¡¯re the best!¡±


    ¡°Of course I am,¡± said the snake. ¡°Now calm down. Arciel¡¯s coming.¡±


    ¡°Uhhmmm, I¡¯ll try, but Iunno if I can. I can already smell the super tasty food Melly¡¯s mom¡¯s making, and it¡¯s making me really hungry.¡± She pressed one hand against her stomach whilst wiping the drool off her face with the other.


    Claire smiled. ¡°It¡¯s a shame we can¡¯t go anywhere near Valencia. Amereth, the manor¡¯s chef, can put anything you¡¯ve ever eaten to shame. Not even Pollux¡¯s chefs come close to matching her skill.¡± She closed her eyes for a moment to picture the infinite expanse of blue that was the shark lady¡¯s origin. ¡°Though, the Ryllian is said to have the best cooks in the world. We should be able to find someone even better if we venture into the sea.¡±


    ¡°Oh! That sounds like a great idea. I can even make Lia a special bubble that¡¯ll let her eat and stuff so she won¡¯t have to miss out.¡±


    ¡°Maybe after we finish our business in Vel¡¯khan.¡± Claire scratched her pet¡¯s ears as she considered the possibility. Her father¡¯s influence was clearly spreading, but she was confident that she would be able to escape it by heading out into the open ocean. If even that failed, then she would only need to seek another continent. Having paid little attention in geography class, she knew very little of the specifics, but she remembered hearing rumours and songs of the kingdoms that lay far beyond her homeland¡¯s bounds. There was the Blintlereach, a land inhabited by golems of glass; Kharstin, a utopia crafted exclusively for goblinkind; and even the rumoured Narzarchst, land of the wishing woods where the holiest of relics lay dormant.


    All were supposedly verified by explorers, but those that frequently traveled between the continents were few and far between. Pria, the continent that Claire lived on, was not yet fully charted, and it was in those efforts that most pathfinders sought their adventures. There was little reason, even for an explorer possessed, to devote her interests to the charting of a distant land.


    The danger was just as present as the sheer space between Pria and Vaughn, the nearest known continent. For those that could fly, the trip was long and exhausting even without accounting for the great thundering veil, a dead sea where the storms would never once relent. The wingless were even less fortunate, for they would have to make the same trip on boat. Because of the risks presented, the few that could easily succeed in crossing the veil were individuals that could dive deep beneath the waves, many of whom were unable to get up on dry land and explore the world¡¯s furthest corners.


    ¡°It might not be the worst idea after all.¡± Claire continued to ponder the possibilities until a knock broke her chain of thought. She checked herself in front of the mirror one more time before flicking her tail and opening the door with a vector.


    ¡°Good morning, Claire. I require a moment of your time,¡± Arciel stepped through it, a soft smile on her ever arrogant face.


    ¡°Of course you do.¡± The lyrkress yoinked the vampire into the room and magically closed the door behind her. ¡°What is it this time?¡±


    ¡°Griselda has provided several destinations so that we may quickly increase our levels before it comes time to confront the whore upon the throne.¡±


    Claire nodded. Vel¡¯khan, like every other land, was home to a number of dungeons, but not all of them were appropriate for their level range, nor were all of them compatible with their abilities. Asking around was likely to produce one answer or another, but not all dungeons were known; new god-sent trials were discovered each year, some by accident, and others by revelation. If they were particularly lucky, the moon goddess¡¯ guidance would point them towards one such hidden trove.


    ¡°What else?¡± asked the lyrkress. She continued when the squid blinked, confused. ¡°You¡¯re too excited for that to be all.¡±


    ¡°I was not aware that I had let it show,¡± A faint red on her cheeks, Arciel covered her lips with a hand. ¡°To answer the question you have posed, the great moon goddess has informed me that she wishes for an opportunity to speak to you in person at your convenience, and that I should ensure you are provided the ideal circumstances for clear communication.¡±


    ¡°What business does she have with me?¡± asked the moose. She found it somewhat strange that the goddess did not contact her directly or whisk her consciousness away without any prior warning, but she appreciated the gesture. The goddess of sentient rocks clearly demonstrated that she held a respect for the mortal¡¯s time and will.


    ¡°That, I cannot say,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I was not given the specifics, only instructions to prepare you for a lengthy discussion.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± The lyrkress walked in front of the mirror and transformed her casual dress into her usual armour. ¡°Sylvia, can you warp us outside? I¡¯ll fly us over to Vel¡¯khagan. We can probably get there and back by nightfall.¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡±


    Arciel frowned. ¡°I am afraid that I cannot show my face in the capital¡¯s temples. I would be recognized immediately by its priests, most of whom presume me to be dead.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait, slow down!¡± cried the fox. ¡°They think you¡¯re dead!? What the heck!?¡±


    ¡°It is a fault of the life-sucking whore,¡± said Arciel, with a frown. ¡°She burned down my mother¡¯s vacation home in the midst of a family gathering. And as I am certain you have come to understand, changes in temperature serve as a critical weakness that my species has great difficulty resisting.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah! You start turning red and stuff when it gets too hot.¡±


    ¡°Precisely,¡± said the squid. ¡°I was fortunate enough to escape, but many did not share in my serendipity. The few that did, she attacked. I know some of their tales, but can only assume the fates of the others.¡± The tale was relayed with a disgusted frown. She opened her mouth and poised to continue, until Claire jabbed a tail into her cheek.


    ¡°We¡¯re getting off topic,¡± said the moderately annoyed lyrkress. ¡°Where do you want to go instead?¡±


    ¡°Could you truly not wait until I was finished with relaying my past?¡± The squid pursed her lips, only to receive another prod.


    ¡°No. This is a waste of time with the cat still asleep,¡± said Claire. ¡°If you¡¯re going to open up, do it later. I don¡¯t want to hear the same story twice.¡±


    Blinking, Arciel looked between the miffed aristocrat and the cackling fox before heaving a sigh. ¡°I suppose etiquette must differ greatly in Cadria.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t. Now get to the point.¡±


    ¡°I suppose I shall if I must.¡± The squid breathed a sigh and adjusted her hat. ¡°It just so happens that we are near one of the sites where my kin were slaughtered. The holy temple was desecrated with blood, but I believe it shall serve our purposes so long as we cleanse it of its impurities.¡±


    ¡°Ooooo, a desecrated temple? That sounds fun!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°If we¡¯re lucky we might even run into zombies and stuff.¡±


    Arciel pulled a fan out of thin air and pressed it to her lips. ¡°I am well aware that Claire was doing it intentionally¡­ but with you, I cannot be sure.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Doing what?¡±


    ¡°Stupid fox.¡± Claire flicked the hungry hungry not-hippo. ¡°Who would the corpses belong to?¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ oooohhhh¡­ oops. Sorry.¡± She stuck out her tongue and scratched the back of her head.


    The disguised tentacle monster giggled as she leaned back into her chair. ¡°Are you certain,¡± she turned her eyes on Claire, ¡°that I cannot have her?¡±


    ¡°No. Mine,¡± The lamia grabbed the foxgirl¡¯s giant, fluffy tail and hugged it. ¡°When are we leaving?¡±


    ¡°As soon as Natalya awakens,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Waiting for her would mean waiting all day,¡± said Claire, with a roll of the eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t think she got out of bed yesterday. And the few waking moments she had, she spent on cleaning.¡±


    It was not a matter of exhaustion that drove the catgirl¡¯s lethargy, but rather her lazy feline nature. Lia had gone back to sleep each time she awakened. When confronted about her indolence, she claimed that napping was natural behaviour for members of her species, and that the sun was at fault. Even within the dungeon¡¯s confines, Rikael¡¯s light was apparently warmer while they were so high up. The heat-sensitive Arciel agreed, but Claire was convinced that it was a false claim. Augustus Manor had always been a few degrees colder than the city laid out beneath it.


    ¡°Truly?¡± Arciel raised a brow.


    ¡°Mhm!¡± Sylvia nodded. ¡°She slept even more than me, and I conked out every time I got bored or tired.¡±


    ¡°We can wake her up,¡± said Claire. ¡°Is the bird coming?¡±


    ¡°I do not think she will be. She mentioned that she would like a day to go over her notes and deliberate her decisions.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that reminds me!¡± Sylvia shot to her feet. ¡°I need to talk to Melly about something really important!¡±


    ¡°Something important?¡± The lyrkress cocked her head.


    ¡°Yeah! You remember how you were going around murdering all her people and stuff because you wanted experience?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh, so anyway, I thought it might be a good idea to collect their souls and stuff, so I ended up keeping them around, but Iunno what to do with them.¡± Sylvia transformed back into a fox before reaching into her tail and retrieving a handful of dull, green-white lights. ¡°I think she might stop being mad at us if I give them back.¡±


    While the bird was certainly cooperating on account of being convinced that she could not defeat the marquis, it was not with pleasure that she discussed her terms. Arciel and Natalya, she was at least personable around, but she often glared at Claire and Sylvia. It was not wholly unexpected; one had eaten hundreds of her people, and the other had taken her brother as a hostage.


    ¡°Iunno how long it¡¯ll take, so you guys go on ahead,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯ll grab Lia and catch up when I¡¯m done.¡± She clapped her paws and quickly spun up a portal before bounding off in the opposite direction. There was a wall in her path, but she phased right through it and headed into the next room. The confused questions that followed her did not make it as far. They were either chased off by her enthusiasm or summarily ignored.


    Claire¡¯s ears happened to pick up a series of rather interesting shouts, but chose to ignore them in favour of picking up her lizard and strapping him to her back.


    ¡°Which way is it?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°It lies at the bottom of the ocean,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I am unable to give precise instructions without heading into the water, but I believe it should be to the southwest.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°Indeed, we would best refrain from stalling any longer,¡± said the squid, with a smile. ¡°My goddess awaits.¡±

 Chapter 221 - The Witch of Twilight III

    Chapter 221 - The Witch of Twilight III


    Arciel took the lead as soon as they sank beneath the waves. She transformed her legs into a series of tentacles and propelled herself through the sea. Shrouded in water, the bloodkraken was a speedster. Each stroke added a violent burst of acceleration with enough power to carry her a hundred meters at a time. The lyrkress soon found that she needed her vectors to keep up, for while she was semiaquatic, her companion was just half a step shy of being a fish in water.


    ¡°It occurs to me now that this is the first time that we have been left by ourselves,¡± said the princess. She slowed as she spoke, matching Clarie¡¯s speed with her tentacles spread wide like a parachute.


    ¡°Afraid I¡¯m going to stab you in the back?¡±


    ¡°Not in the slightest.¡± The squid spun around to reveal a confident smile. ¡°You are deserving of my trust, Claire. That, I understood through our first encounter.¡±


    ¡°You must be insane. I destroyed your headquarters and nearly killed you.¡±


    Arciel laughed. ¡°It is precisely your willingness to shamelessly wear those misdeeds on your sleeve that has earned my trust.¡± She swam closer to the lyrkress and put a finger against the bridge of her nose. ¡°You will do no such thing again, for I know you recognize me now as one of your own.¡±


    Claire brushed the hand away and rolled her eyes. ¡°I might if you were more useful in a fight.¡±


    ¡°And I will be, if not faced with my one great weakness.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± The seamoose crossed her arms. ¡°Now can we stop trying to open up and get a move on already?¡±


    ¡°Surely you do not have to rebuff every attempt I make?¡± The princess placed a hand on her cheek and breathed a sigh. ¡°And here I was hoping for an opportunity for us to bond.¡±


    ¡°Do away with the haughty act, and I¡¯ll consider it.¡±


    The princess blinked, producing her fan and raising it to her lips. ¡°You do realise that is as impossible for me as it is for you, yes? It is, in effect, a curse wrought by our standing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Ciel, you silly goose!¡± Expression completely deadpan and lips unmoving, Claire allowed a giggle to escape her throat. ¡°Can¡¯t you see how blessed we are? We couldn¡¯t possibly be cursed!¡±


    The squid froze. She went deathly silent, blinking rapidly as her fan slowly drifted out of her hands.


    ¡°M¡¯haps that one was too much, aye? We cans tries ahselves an ¡®ighlander next, m¡¯be?¡±


    Again, silence. Silence and blinking.


    ¡°Or perhaps, Princess, you would prefer a tone such as this, eerily familiar as it may be.¡± The third sentence was spoken in a voice so similar to that of the squid¡¯s that she was almost tempted to check if they had come out of her own mouth.


    ¡°I-I certainly do see your point,¡± said Arciel. ¡°While I am certain that you will not refrain even in the case that I ask, I would prefer if you were to at least imitate the mannerisms as well, the next time that you engage in such an act.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Please do. It is rather¡­ strange to see a change in your pattern of speech when your demeanor remains identical.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll think about it.¡± The moose stuck out her tongue.


    Arciel shook her head. ¡°I am truly incapable of understanding how one such as yourself is produced. I would be inclined to think the Cadrian court a bed of political nightmares, and I do not look forward to my interactions with Marquis Pollux.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s more sly than he lets on. You¡¯d better keep your eyes peeled if you don¡¯t want him to try and take advantage of you.¡±


    ¡°That I shall,¡± said the vampire. ¡°But from what you have described, his type is the sort with which I have the most experience.¡±


    The horse-adjacent sea creature shrugged. ¡°We can figure that out later. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    The next leg of the trip was traveled at a leisurely pace. Arciel was more talkative, pointing out various landmarks along the way. Of greatest interest were the air pockets lying within the depths, many of which were as large as small islands. They were not contained in bubbles, but rather existed in a separate space much the same way as would a dungeon. Unlike the gods¡¯ trials, however, they were visible from the outside and could be easily explored without risk. Somehow, the underwater atolls appeared to contain the concept of the sky, for there would be one above the treeline, the sun visible and the clouds in a state similar to what Claire recalled above the surface.


    In a way, it was like the lost library. The subspaces reminded her of the pocket of air that existed at the very bottom of Sky Lagoon, especially in that they refused to absorb water. According to the kraken, liquids could only be brought inside if transported in sealed containers.


    The destination that they ultimately arrived at was a large, underwater city, or at least the ruins thereof. The sands were blackened, and the buildings constructed around them often dilapidated and destroyed. As far as architecture went, it differed only slightly from what Claire had seen in Vel¡¯khagan. There was even more glass, and half the city was built at an angle, lining the side of a small mountain that rose above the sea floor.


    The streets were practically swarming with local critters. The light was faint; the sun''s rays could not penetrate through to the ocean¡¯s depths, but that did not stop the local flora and fauna from thriving. There were corals of all shapes, colours, and sizes growing out of the ruined buildings, with communities built around them.


    Continuing down the main street eventually brought them from a ruined fortress to an equally massive and unfortunate chapel. Like everything else, it was partially destroyed. Its frame, which was made almost entirely of glass, was broken in places, and shattered in others. Undead fishmen swam in and out of the holes. Some were holding weapons, but most were armed with books of prayer instead.


    ¡°This city was once Vel¡¯rhast, one of the few bastions whose men remained loyal to the bitter end,¡± said Arciel, as she cast her eyes on one such skeleton. ¡°And this temple was once one of Griselda¡¯s most famous, calling priests from all the lands. But now, it is nothing. Only a shell of a glory long past.¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t seem very loyal to me.¡±


    Claire applied a fistfull of vectors to an orcaped¡¯s skeleton before it could rush them down. The violent forces dismantled the creature, tearing its bones from their places and leaving it a shambling mess. It shrieked at her, howling in horror as a second wave of spells applied a different direction to each remaining bone in its body, leaving it collapsed and dismembered. Like all the undead, it did not remain post mortem. Its corpse was claimed by Xekkur, evaporating into a burst of black.


    ¡°Perhaps not anymore,¡± Arciel smiled, wistfully, as she entered the temple and traced her tentacles upon its glass-paved floor, ¡°but it was only in death that they lost their way.¡± The sand was visible beneath their feet, with bits of it leaking through the large cracks running up and down the glass panels. Not every piece revealed the ocean floor below. Some were stained, marked with works of art, but the missing chunks rendered the illustrations too difficult to interpret. The low light was another contributor, but neither deposed blueblood suffered from a lack of visibility.


    They were deep in the sea, at least a few thousand meters down, far beyond the realm that the sun could reach. And yet, faint rays of light streamed in through the windows. Even in the middle of the day, they belonged to the moon. Not her naked opposite.


    Like many other holy grounds, Griselda¡¯s church bore a powerful divine aura. But perhaps because it was the goddess that had summoned her, or perhaps because of her half depleted divinity pool, it was not as hostile as the others to which she was accustomed. She felt nothing until she entered its grounds, and even then, there was no pain or prickling, only the faint sensation of something lightly scraping against her skin.


    A group of rotten, skeletal priests charged them when they entered, three barehanded, and two still holding holy books or relics. It was not by their will that they carried the items. They were nailed to their fins, embedded into their bodies as a means to ensure that they would be preserved together. Like they knew in life the fates that would await them in death.


    ¡°It was here, precisely within this temple, that my sister made her last stand. And it is here that I shall put her people to rest.¡±


    Arciel¡¯s tattoos came alight as she snapped her fan shut and pointed it towards their assailants. The moonlight bent with her orders. It snaked through the air, intensifying with every turn before swallowing the skeletons whole. One by one, they collapsed, taken first by the goddess, and then Xekkur¡¯s dark rot.


    Claire watched silently as she considered the source of their undeath. They could not have been members of the true undead races, for those spawned from the meeting of magic and bone earned not the death god¡¯s ire. But even without exposing them to death, one could easily surmise their state by their lack of intelligence. Nearly all skeletal species boasted an outstanding academic ability not limited by their physical bodies, for their control centres, the cores in which their spirits were held, lacked the traditional weaknesses experienced by brains of flesh.


    In a way, their behaviour reminded her of the curse that she had been tasked with casting upon the Kryddarian army. But while the church goers had certainly degenerated into mindless creatures that attacked whatever they discovered, there remained a stark difference that ruled out the god-given technique. Those afflicted with the withered rose would retain their bodily functions in death. Their health would regenerate, and so too would their flesh alongside it. The local victims, however, were all bareboned. There was not a speck of meat between the lot of them.


    ¡°It is a Vel¡¯khanese relic with which they were slain,¡± said the squid, with a sideways glance. ¡°It is named Grimswald¡¯s Thirstquencher, a truly outstanding dagger capable of immediately purging the blood of its target upon contact with its blade. It is powerful, but not without repercussions. Every seventh kill is cursed, transformed from a corpse to an uncontrollable member of the undying legion.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that counts as a drawback,¡± said Claire. ¡°You¡¯d gain two times the experience without the trouble of having to find another enemy.¡±


    Arciel smiled awkwardly. ¡°Perhaps, but it is not in this manner that the drawback is often considered.¡± She slew another corpse as she spoke, eviscerating it with a thousand shadowy spikes.


    Resistance grew as they got further into the cathedral. The number of undead doubled when they passed through the reception area, and doubled again when they began walking down the hall leading to the underground atrium, but Arciel handled them all. One by one, the deceased priests, refugees, and devouts were put to rest, imparted sweet release by the imperial bloodkraken¡¯s hand.


    Her first kill aside, Claire remained an idle observer, allowing Arciel to carry out the act as per her resolve. A few of them had given the squid pause. Some would lead her to stop, to observe them for a moment with her emotions unmasked. Still, they had been quick to arrive at their destination.


    The atrium was guarded with an especially heavy door. Measuring in at over ten meters tall, its glass was stained, marked with the image of a beam of light cast upon a familiar white castle. The relief had nearly escaped the rot that had run through the rest of the temple. There was only a single crack running down its length, nearly wide enough to provide a gaze into the inner sanctum.


    Arciel placed a hand against the handle and gave it a tug, but the door refused to budge. She frowned and pulled it with both hands, but it remained fixed in space.


    ¡°Move.¡±


    ¡°It is more difficult to open than you may expect.¡±


    ¡°I doubt that.¡±


    Pushing her aside with a light prod of the tail, Claire took her place, planted her feet into the ground, and yanked as hard as she could. The glass panels did not budge an inch. The handle, however, was not as resilient. It came off with a crack, accompanying her on her journey as she nearly fell over.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°I do not believe that to be the result we desired,¡± said Arciel, through a stifled laugh.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± A somewhat annoyed Claire discarded the handle and grabbed the door¡¯s crack with a pair of vectors. The mural shattered and shrieked as it was warped out of shape, ripped into two pieces that slowly opened as would a pair of deformed double doors. ¡°See? Easy.¡± She turned to the princess with her face perfectly blank, but her aura gloating up a storm.


    ¡°That was most certainly not the way I expected it to open.¡±


    The door murderer innocently tilted her head. ¡°What are you talking about? It opened because I pulled on its handle. That¡¯s how doors work.¡±


    ¡°I believe you are omitting a key step in the process,¡± said the witness.


    ¡°Not in the slightest.¡±


    ¡°The confidence you lie with is astonishing.¡± Arciel sighed. ¡°But no matter. Let us proceed.¡±


    The atrium was of a familiar design. Like the holy places belonging to most gods, it was a large, round room with an altar at its center and candles along its edges. The blessed wax-covered wicks behaved exactly as they would in any other temple, still burning dimly, stopped by neither water nor time. Upon the floor, there was a magic circle, inscribed in a deep, sanguine stain.


    If there were any unique traits to note, they would be the moonbeams streaming in through the ceiling, and the skeleton that sat center stage, arms bound in prayer before the altar. Chains upon chains upon chains held the undead in place; the links connected it not only to the floor and ceiling, but the door as well. There were hundreds of them at least, each thick and heavy enough to restrain an ascended turberus.


    Even in undeath, the bound humanoid was sharply dressed. She wore a large witch¡¯s hat, inscribed with the mark of the moon, accompanied by a beautiful evening gown in the same shade of black. Had its bottom half not laid on the floor, the silk would have hid the corpse¡¯s lack of legs.


    Arciel took a breath as she gazed upon it. Her lips trembling and her heels clacking against the glass, she advanced towards the skeleton whilst preparing a spell. She attacked it not with shadows and moonlight, but blood. She drew the weapon from her own veins, crystallizing the vital fluid into a single jagged nail. She first touched the other bloodkraken¡¯s cheek, smiling softly before pressing her bloodied finger into the side of the undead¡¯s skull. It collapsed almost immediately, its whole body crumpling and fading to bits as the energy holding it together dispersed. When the maiden faded, so too did the chains that filled the atrium. Everything was taken by the god of death at once.


    Arciel did not move from where she had performed the purification. Placing her sister¡¯s hat upon the altar, she took her place in prayer, returning to her tentacled form and neatly folding her legs beneath her as she rested her hands atop the boneless limbs.


    Claire followed suit after a brief delay and assumed her own true form. She was unsure of how a dracoqilin was meant to pray. She could have easily sat down on her four legs like a centaur, but with no hands to clasp, the pose simply felt wrong. Her wings could be manipulated like arms, but overlaying them was more ridiculous than it was reverent or respectful. Eventually, she settled on straightening her body, closing her wings, and lowering her head. It was far from what she envisioned as an ideal pose for prayer, but with four legs, no hands, and a body ten times longer than it was wide, it was the best that she could do.


    ¡°O goddess of guidance and purifying silverlight, great mother above and witch of the twilight skies. I have come to answer your call.¡±


    Her body was struck by a sudden sense of weightlessness. It was like when she neutralised the force pulling her to Mara, albeit with a few minor differences. The force was not suppressed, as it had been when she was in control. She could still feel it faintly tugging on her feet, but it was so frail and weak that she could have easily escaped.


    Looking down, she saw a sea of stars, a splotch of black dotted with bits of white. And below that, a large sphere covered in blues, greens, browns, and greys. Parts of it were obscured by a layer of white, large swaths of clouds almost impossible to see beyond.


    ¡°Welcome, young one, to the realm above and below.¡±


    A voice echoed through her mind, its source the giant rock floating in the void. It was no perfect sphere, like the planet beneath her feet, but rather a slightly elliptical blob with a triangular chunk torn out of its lower half. Bits of debris floated around the great stone, smaller rocks of the same make. They were not her children, but pieces of her body over which she still held control.


    Somehow, the mortal felt as if she could see a face. The missing piece was the mouth, and the dark spots were the eyes. All the details matched perfectly with the angle at which her hat sat, producing the faint visage of a sloppy, tired witch.


    ¡°Thank you, Goddess.¡±


    Claire nodded lightly, a motion that was nearly followed by a furrow of the brow. Something was off. She did not have the strange, floaty sensation that had come with every other visit to the divine realm.


    ¡°Your body is present, if that is what you were wondering,¡± said the witch, with a chuckle. ¡°We aren¡¯t in the divine realm. This is the space between the world and the moon.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Without breaking her neutral expression, she suppressed her excitement and slowly directed her eyes up, towards the caster that had created the bizarre scenario.


    ¡°I was hoping for a more exaggerated reaction.¡±


    ¡°This is an exaggerated reaction.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re more stone faced than me, and I¡¯m a rock,¡± The moon chuckled like an older lady as she applied a light force to the mortal¡¯s shoulders. It was something akin to a pat on the back, calming and reassuring. ¡°To change the subject, I¡¯m quite happy with how everything¡¯s been turning out. You¡¯ve been making some pretty good headway on that quest of yours.¡±


    ¡°Hardly.¡± Claire frowned. ¡°I¡¯ve mostly left her to her own devices.¡±


    ¡°That might be how you see it, but me, I think you¡¯ve done plenty.¡± The goddess paused for a moment to grow brighter. ¡°And that¡¯s why I wanted to see you.¡± She removed a rock from her ring and flung it towards the draconic mortal. It moved quickly through the space between them, but slowed as it approached, coming to a full stop half an inch in front of her nose. ¡°The road ahead is long and thorny. But perhaps this¡¯ll be of service.¡±


    The perforated mass of stone was half the serpent¡¯s length and twice her width. Its shape was akin to that of an unpolished wedge. There were a thousand deformities covering its frame, but it ultimately ended in a sharpened point.


    Her expression returning to neutral, she slowly shifted her eyes between the two rocks. ¡°What am I supposed to do with it?¡±


    ¡°Touch it. You will understand.¡±


    Though somewhat skeptical, the lyrkress opened a talon and pressed her palm against the wedge¡¯s surface. A strange, comforting chill shot through her spine as soon as contact was made. It almost felt like the rock was extending a set of feelers and latching onto her magic circuits. Even though it did nothing but sit still. She could feel it. Its insides were more complex than they let on, an array of tiny circuits marked not in flesh but stone. Proof that it was once a piece of the goddess¡¯ body.


    But while she understood that, she still had no idea why it was being given to her or what she was meant to do with it. At the end of the day, a magical rock was still just a rock, and the only use that Claire could think of would be to transform it into a projectile.


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure what I was supposed to understand.¡±


    There was a faint glint in the moon¡¯s eye, a momentary glimmer of amusement. ¡°Ice is an orderly construct. Its molecular structure is rigid, with every last atom adhering to all the same rules. You¡¯ve used it so much that your body is starting to take on some of its more rigid properties.¡± She floated a chunk of frozen water in front of the lyrkress¡¯ face, and by filling it with her own divine force, detonated it into a mess of broken reflections. ¡°But your essence is entirely chaotic. And the two are not compatible.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ inconvenient,¡± muttered the scalewarden.


    ¡°Very,¡± agreed the rock. ¡°And that is why I have given you this moonstone, young one. You may not understand it now, but one day, it may aid you in tempering your divinity. And if that doesn¡¯t work, then maybe you can find some other use for it. It¡¯s yours now regardless.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­¡± The lyrkress ran her fingers across the rock¡¯s surface. ¡°I do appreciate the gift, Goddess, but I also happen to have a question.¡±


    ¡°And what might that be?¡±


    ¡°Are you expecting me to bring this with me?¡±


    The moon laughed. ¡°Of course not. I will facilitate a link. You may access it through prayer, so long as you are touched by my light.¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°Thank you, Goddess. I will keep your consideration in mind.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re very welcome, young one,¡± said the sentient rock, with another chuckle. ¡°Sadly, I think that¡¯s all the time we have today.¡± Griselda¡¯s rocky ring began to spin, and with it accelerated the lyrkress. The stars blurred as she was flung round and round, faster and faster with every circle. ¡°My beloved child holds you in high regard, Claire Augustus. I hope that you will treat her well.¡± The words echoed through her mind as she was released from the moon¡¯s grasp and launched towards the planet. It was not a straight line trajectory, but an angular one. She flew not at Mara, but around it. The pull of gravity grew with each cycle, taking something in the realm of a dozen before it finally tore her from orbit.


    She could feel her scales heating up as the air went from nonexistent to pushing against her face. It battered her, slowing her down like a wall of mud, but she paid it little mind. From up high, she could see everything. Pria, Vaughn, the veil, everything. And all of it slowly faded away, vanishing beyond the horizon as the Ryllian grew beneath her. In the blink of an eye, it went from a wet splotch on a dry canvas to all that she could see.


    And then, impact.


    The dip was accompanied by an explosion of steam as her body boiled the sea around her. Fish floated to the surface, killed by either the heat or the blast. It was hard to say which. Whatever the case, she continued forward, sinking beneath the waves and into the depths, her speed slowly, slowly draining with every bit of distance traveled.


    ¡°What the heck do you mean, you don¡¯t know where she went!?¡±


    ¡°I meant precisely what I said. Griselda has spirited her away, and I have not the faintest clue as to her location.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t until she was a thousand feet above the ruined temple that her momentum was fully drained. But even with her speed at zero, her heart was still pounding with excitement. Griselda had shown her the world. The entire planet had been laid bare before her hundred and forty one eyes. Everything. Everything except all the finer details that she wanted so desperately to know. The perfect match to light her desire to explore.


    ¡°Then pray! Pray right now, and get that dumb bimbo to give her back!¡±


    But as much as the lyrkress wanted to imagine the days to come, she found herself pulled from her reverie by a set of familiar voices.


    ¡°I refuse. You will address my goddess with respect and pray to her yourself.¡±


    ¡°No friggin¡¯ way!¡±


    ¡°Please calm down, both of you. We¡¯re not going to figure anything out if we keep screaming at each other. We need to take a step back and talk this through.¡±


    An impish smile appeared on Claire¡¯s lips as she parsed the screams and located their sources. Reverting to her humanoid form, she crept up on the building and snuck in through its broken roof.


    ¡°Shut up, Lia! None of this would¡¯ve happened in the first place if you actually got out of bed when I told you to!¡±


    ¡°S-sorry, I was in the middle of a really nice dream.¡±


    The lyrkress raised a hand to her lips when Arciel, the only one with an angle on her entry point, noticed her flickering shadow. Though somewhat confused, the vampire squid nodded, and said nothing as she snuck her way through the water.


    ¡°Liar! You weren¡¯t even having a good dream! You were just really confused by talking tomatoes again!¡±


    ¡°Wait, you were looking again!? Sylvia!¡±


    ¡°Only because you wouldn¡¯t get up! Why the he¡ªeeek!?¡±


    The fox¡¯s shout was cut off by a high pitched scream as a pair of hands suddenly closed in on her bubble. She shot straight up when the fingers made contact, bolting over three dozen meters and crashing into the temple¡¯s broken roof.


    ¡°Wait! Claire!? What the heck was that for!?¡± screamed the victim.


    ¡°Good morning. Did you miss me?¡± The prankster stuck out her tongue, teasingly, before applying a vector to the roof-fox and pulling her into her arms.


    Sylvia was a little miffed at first, but spun around and returned the hug with her paws spread wide. ¡°Where the heck did you go!? My tracker stopped working for some odd reason. I was worried sick!¡±


    ¡°Griselda took me up into the sky,¡± she said, as she scratched the critter¡¯s ear. ¡°We were talking, face to face.¡±


    ¡°Ohhh¡­ whew.¡± Sylvia heaved a sigh. ¡°I thought she might¡¯ve done something to you ¡®cause like, who knows what the gods are thinking.¡±


    ¡°It is rare that the great mother grants the opportunity to speak with her in person,¡± said Arciel, with a look of envy.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re alright,¡± said Natalya. ¡°I was getting a little worried as well. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen Sylvia that flustered before.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s cause that was the first time I¡¯ve ever lost track of her,¡± said the fox. ¡°Normally, my mark tells me exactly where she is at all times.¡±


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ at all times? That seems like it¡¯s a bit too much,¡± said the cat.


    ¡°Nuh uh. It¡¯s okay because we¡¯re friends,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Lia laughed awkwardly. ¡°Does that mean the rest of us have trackers too?¡±


    ¡°Oh uhmmm¡­ that would be a good idea, wouldn¡¯t it? I should probably do that.¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t! I like my privacy!¡±


    ¡°I would also prefer not to be marked.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, too late,¡± giggled the fox. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m pretty sure we¡¯re done here, so let¡¯s get back to Melly¡¯s place. Breakfast is gonna get cold if we keep it waiting any longer!¡±


    ¡°While I would certainly enjoy partaking in another suite of bizarre Arvidian dishes, there is another matter we must first address,¡± objected the vampire. ¡°The first location that Griselda has laid out for us is not far from here. I suggest we visit, so that we may bolster our strength for the battles to come.¡±


    ¡°Booooo! That sounds boring. Eating would be way more fun,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind either way,¡± said Lia. ¡°What do you say, Claire?¡±


    A smile appeared on the lyrkress¡¯ face. ¡°Food can wait.¡± She lifted her lizard off the glass floor and holstered him to her back. ¡°Monsters can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Ughhhhhhhh! Of course you¡¯d say that!¡±


    Ignoring the fox¡¯s complaint, Claire placed the critter on her head and prepared for departure. There was still a long road ahead, one that she would happily leave strewn in bloodied corpses.

 Chapter 222 - Epilogue - Under the Table

    Chapter 222 - Epilogue - Under the Table


    A less-than-entertained centaur sat in an empty room, scribbling away at the pages piled atop his desk. Though he was often its only occupant, the office had space for at least a dozen. The others would occasionally pop in to file their paperwork, but they would fill out and review only a few reports at a time, maybe ten on a busy day.


    As the operation¡¯s commander, Lord Pollux was responsible for keeping tabs on every one of its aspects, for it was only through his due diligence that they could proceed without error. Under a smoother set of circumstances, said diligence would have involved little beyond reading over the high level reports given to him by his direct subordinates, already filtered for the relevant information. Alas, war was unpredictable, and the pipeline rarely functioned as it should.


    To make an informed decision in a time of crisis, he would need to learn as much of the status quo as he could and process all the information himself. And it was precisely to facilitate the gathering of every last morsel that he had opened up a new channel of communication. Any individual in possession of useful information was given the opportunity to file a report that would be sent straight onto the pile atop his desk.


    The diligent soldiers that were his rank and file quickly got to work. Nearly every man wrote an account for the poor commander to consider. Most were relatively quick and concise. Knowing that the marquis would have a whole mountainload to sort, the men penned brief descriptions that expressed only the events and their consequences. Few of the reports saw any mention of momentum, but those that did noted that their attacks and velocities were preserved. The combination of the tightly packed space and the troops¡¯ half-finished swings resulted in over three dozen casualties. They were fortunate enough to see no fatalities arise, but the unwarranted damage to the soldiers¡¯ equipment was sure to eat into the expedition¡¯s budget.


    Just as stressful as the rise in expenses was the bizarre condition that spread through the camp the following morning. The soldiers turned overnight, with many reporting feelings of weakness and discomfort. It did not begin at scale, but by lunch, half the men were affected. Their logs reported the illness as the result of the Curse of the Rotting Mists, and it continued to spread only among those that had been on the ninth floor, even as the camp moved back aboard the ship.


    The resident priests and priestesses were able to treat it without issue, but they were kept busy by the ever increasing victim count. Those that had taken up positions closest to the central mountain relapsed after just a few hours, while those that had arrived late to the scene appeared to find themselves fully cured with just a single treatment.


    As he himself suffered no symptoms, Timaios left the curse to his men and focused his efforts on investigating the source of their sudden teleportation. He and most of the other commanders assumed it to be a quirk of the dungeon at first, but a quick check with one of the accompanying divine scholars had ruled the conclusion out as highly unlikely.


    The gods were intelligent and fair. The adverse effects that came from failing specific aspects of their trials targeted only the individuals that had failed to perform. In rare cases, such as where a test¡¯s purpose was to evaluate a group¡¯s teamwork, they would punish whole parties instead, but it was entirely unheard of for an entire organisation, let alone a coalition, to find itself subjected to a magical deportation.


    Adding to the confusion was the lack of an obvious source. None of the soldiers had reported anything along the lines of a possible cause, and the adventurers that the marquis had interviewed were just as clueless. There was always the possibility that they had lied to his face, but he doubted it. He was a good judge of character, and those he checked in on had been relatively earnest, or at least fearful enough of him to divulge as much of the truth as they could recall.


    Some of the groups had muttered something or other of a divine protector, and one such report from the scouts had confirmed its existence. There was a creature with an excess of divinity living atop the tallest mountain¡ªa strange being they had discovered in the investigation of the unexplained, momentary snowscape. But by the time of the scouts¡¯ arrival, the divine protector had already been subdued by a member of Lady Augustus¡¯ party. There were a few notes of confusion regarding the battle¡¯s precise outcome, the most notable of which was that the extent of damage incurred and the protector¡¯s behaviour were at odds. Pollux was planning to sit down with the lieutenant and ask for more details, but that was an appointment he would reserve for a later date.


    He thought it likely that the winter storm had something or other to do with their removal, but with the divine protector ruled out, so too was the option of its influence.


    ¡°Or perhaps not. It is always possible that the blizzard¡¯s effect was delayed.¡± He stroked his moustache as he pondered the thought, scribbling it down on a page full of hypotheses. The timing was perfect. The icy apocalypse had occurred just a few minutes after they first stormed the city, and nearly all the men had presumed it to be some sort of counterattack.


    ¡°My lord,¡± A familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts. When he raised his head, he found his butler present, dressed exactly as usual, with the extra adage of a metal cap resting between his ears. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to interrupt, but there is a matter that requires your attention.¡±


    Timaios sighed. ¡°What now?¡±


    ¡°Lady Augustus would like to request an audience. She claims to know the truth behind the incident.¡±


    ¡°She lives then.¡± Like all the others that had failed to teleport, Claire had been presumed dead. The strange spell had transported none of the corpses, but all those that had yet to perish were present and accounted for. ¡°Perhaps there was some merit in Silvanus¡¯ report after all¡­¡± He glanced at the page on his desk before pressing a hand into his brow and returning his gaze to his servant. ¡°Send her in. It would not do to keep a lady waiting.¡±


    ¡°Right away.¡± Seeing that his master was the one with the headache for once, the butler left the room with a vibrant, happy sneer.


    Timaios tidied up his papers in the meantime, sorting the various reports into piles, and ensuring that the more confidential documents were covered or tucked away. If she was anything like her father, she would be sure to look around and glean every bit of information he left exposed.


    Armando showed her into the room not too long after he finished. She was accompanied by the members of her party, as well as a strange, pink bird he had not seen before. Her description loosely matched one described in the scouts¡¯ report, however, and she carried with her an excess of divinity¡ªan effective testament to her identity as the ninth floor¡¯s so-called protector.


    ¡°Good evening, Lord Pollux.¡±


    Claire stepped forward and lifted her dress to greet him with a formal curtsy. While he did acknowledge the practiced greeting, polished to irrefutable perfection, his attention was taken instead by the girls¡¯ attire.


    They presented themselves not as wandering sellswords, but as ladies prepared to attend a formal event. Each was decorated in a puffy dress tailored perfectly to suit her frame. Even the fox was given a set of clothing. She wore a large lacy bowtie on her neck, alongside an elvish hood that featured a pair of long, flowing coattails.


    ¡°Good evening, Lady Augustus,¡± said the centaur. ¡°Wherever might you have obtained such a beautiful dress? I recall that your party was traveling light.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, I must refrain from divulging my methods, for a lady without mystery is one that will inevitably lose her charm.¡±


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    ¡°It is as you say, my fair lady,¡± said the older gentleman, ¡°but so too shall an excess of unanswered questions render any potential suitors too wary to approach.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps then it is to my good fortune that I am not in the market for a suitor.¡±


    ¡°What a shame.¡± The man breathed an exaggerated sigh before placing his hands on his desk. ¡°I suppose that suffices for pleasantries. Let us discuss the incident.¡±


    ¡°In that case, Lord Pollux, I must ask that you speak to a related party.¡± Claire stepped aside and allowed the witch and the bird to advance. ¡°On your left, my good marquis, is Meltys, Arviad Skyfeller, and the divine protector of Arviandor, the godsent representative of the nation located within the dungeon¡¯s confines.¡±


    ¡°A pleasure to meet you,¡± he said with a nod. ¡°I am Timaios Pollux, thunderhoof dreadnaught, and the lord responsible for Cadria¡¯s southernmost marsh.¡±


    ¡°The pleasure is mine,¡± said the duck.


    ¡°And on your right,¡± continued Claire, ¡°is the woman with all of the answers you seek.¡±


    ¡°The answers I seek, you say?¡± He raised his brow and looked the witch over, his gaze settling on her chest for a solid five seconds.


    ¡°Good evening, Lord Pollux.¡± She did not bow to him, facing him instead with a demeaning smile that demanded his subservience. ¡°I have recently caught wind of a number of rather interesting rumours floating around the Vel¡¯khanese castle.¡± She produced a fan as she spoke and covered the sneer that made its way across her face. ¡°They say that you wish to introduce a foreign system, the merit of which the queen fails to see.¡±


    ¡°What are you suggesting?¡± The centaur met her confident gaze with one of violent suspicion. It was the only appropriate response. One wrong turn, and he could destroy his reputation among the locals.


    Arciel did not answer his question immediately, laughing instead in the obnoxious way that only a spoiled, rich girl could. ¡°Have you any knowledge of the imperial house of Vel¡¯khan?¡±


    ¡°Naturally. The Vel¡¯khanese line is a well respected lineage of lampre¡ª¡±


    He was cut off with a snap of the fan. Arciel stepped forward, her eyes filled with an angry glow, and her heels clacking against the stone plateau.


    ¡°There has never once been such a thing as a leech of royal blood. The vampire queen has always been a blood-sucking kraken descended from Arcereula Vel¡¯Khan herself.¡±


    The princess¡¯ body began to change as she advanced towards his desk. Her skin went from pale to blue, her hair from black to purple, and her legs from two to ten. They were no longer the humanoid shapes they had previously held, but long, thick tentacles dyed a few shades deeper than the ones atop her head. Each was covered from start to finish in suckers, massive, powerful suckers capable of ripping the stone beneath her apart.


    ¡°But now, I stand as the last of my kind,¡± she smiled, wistfully, ¡°left to watch as an unjust murderer sits atop my rightful throne and rewrites its history.¡±


    The marquis paused briefly, looking first at the regal tentacle monster, and then at the lady responsible for her referral. Seeing Claire nod, the marquis sat back in his chair with his lips twisted into a smile.


    ¡°I see what you are saying, Lady Vel¡¯khan. While I do not doubt the legitimacy of your claim, I cannot simply volunteer my support to a princess whose backing consists of a runaway, a deserter, and a less-than-subtle knight. It takes more than that to contest the crown, Princess. You cannot win a game of politics by merely flying the flag of the rebellion. To back even the most righteous of efforts requires an extent of power and influence.¡±


    ¡°And I have both.¡± She opened her fan again. ¡°Have you not considered the reason we bring knowledge of your army¡¯s teleportation? Or perhaps why our arrival was offset?¡±


    The marquis furrowed his brow. ¡°Prove it.¡±


    ¡°Gladly.¡±


    The squid snapped her fingers and crafted a vortex of spiraling shadows. The darkness itself did nothing, but the whooshing sound it made served as a perfect cover for the tune Sylvia hummed under her breath. The office¡¯s occupants vanished from the manor, appearing a moment later in the airspace above Vel¡¯khagan. The city¡¯s distinctive castle was in full view, bright as ever, with a group of maids actively polishing the brilliant white stones. Unlike the observers, who stood atop tailored, invisible bubbles, the servants were rappelling down the castle¡¯s walls, fixing themselves in place with nothing but iron and rope.


    ¡°This is certainly an interesting illusion, impeccably crafted and impossible to see through¡± said the Cadrian, after a moment of looking around. ¡°But I am not so easily fooled. He stood up from his seat and took half a step, as if to demonstrate that his desk was still present, but his hooves touched nothing. His body pitched forward and fell through the sky, eyes blinking in confusion.


    He spread his wings a moment later, but flew into the city instead of rising back to his previous location. He dashed to ground level, disturbing the populace and even speaking to a stranger or two before finally returning to the group.


    Arciel smirked at him, confidently, before snapping her fingers a second time. Again, an invisible portal answered her call, and again, Sylvia¡¯s handiwork was perfect. They were taken right back to where they started, the foreign dignitary even reseated in his chair without incident.


    ¡°How intriguing,¡± he said, with a smile. ¡°You possess a power capable of overcoming strategic military positions in the blink of an eye.¡±


    ¡°What I am lacking, Sir Pollux, is the numerical superiority to minimize casualties on both sides. Half of this country¡¯s greatest men have taken my side, and the others are sure to capitulate in the event of the false queen¡¯s demise. Victory shall fall into my lap regardless of your allegiance. I am present on this day not to ask for your assistance, but to offer you an opportunity, a choice between a stain upon your record, or the glory of pushing your nation¡¯s policies through the reinstatement of the throne¡¯s rightful ruler.¡±


    ¡°Are you threatening me, Lady Vel¡¯khan?¡±


    ¡°By no means,¡± she said, with a shit-eating smirk. ¡°I am merely stating that I would leave you to be dealt justice by the lady here with whom I have forged an alliance.¡± She pointed her fan at the divine protector. ¡°For your army has wronged her people, many of whom seek blood for the lives spilt.¡±


    Timaios scoffed. ¡°It would be trivial for me to subdue her and put an immediate end to such a plan.¡±


    The vampire covered her face and laughed. ¡°Perhaps if it was your blood she is after,¡± she said. ¡°I would be rather interested to hear the consequences, should you return to your motherland with no soldiers and no ship.¡±


    There was a moment of silence as the marquis played with his moustache. ¡°Then I suppose I must accept.¡± He clasped his fingers together and rested his hands on top of his desk. ¡°I am willing to offer you soldiers in your effort, but in exchange, I would like you to do three things.¡±


    Arciel nodded. ¡°And what, precisely, might these three things be?¡±


    ¡°First, I would like you to instate a private Cadrian police service, the details of which will be submitted to you at another time.¡±


    ¡°Rejected.¡± Arciel narrowed her eyes. ¡°A joint police service perhaps, but I shall not allow your people to enforce our laws without direct supervision from my countrymen. It is not only a problem of our sovereign dignity, but a ticking bomb sure to drive long term dissatisfaction.¡±


    ¡°A mixed force will do,¡± said the Cadrian. ¡°The second request is to instate business legislation recognizing corporations as persons as per the documentation presented to your soon-to-be predecessor.¡±


    ¡°And the third?¡±


    ¡°To frame the dungeon¡¯s happenings in a way that does not bring shame to the Cadrian army.¡±


    The squid tapped her fan against the palm of her hand as she considered. ¡°Acceptable. I shall provide you with the precise details of the coverup at a later date.¡± She spun around, turning human-like again, with her previously vanished heels clacking against the floor. ¡°It is a pleasure to work with you, Sir Pollux.¡±


    ¡°And you as well, Lady Vel¡¯khan. I bid you good tidings.¡±


    The marquis waited for the group to funnel out the door before allowing a smile to surface. The foolish girl had thought him manipulated, but she had far from seized his reins. While she flew her banner, he would do exactly as parliament had instructed against and sow the seeds required to seize control of the tiny seaside nation¡¯s underworld, and then, the throne itself by force. He would, of course, still employ their economic approach in the meantime¡ªit was the perfect coverup, a legitimate reason to remain in Vel¡¯khan and manage his operations with no risk of interception.


    Parliament could no longer stop him. The eleven horned king was dead, and with him vanished the peaceful policies that he had always supported.


    It was now his master that led the nation.


    The age of peace was over.


    And it was time for one of conquest to begin.

 Volume 4 Art Gallery

    Hello, and welcome to volume 4!


    Here''s the cover, both cropped and as a full illustration by Fulminaire


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    And here''s the resident useless goddess


    Below is a spoilery image from later in the volume, by Shiuw0


    And finally, Boris. Also by Shiuw0


    Several other illustrations are currently in the pipe and will be posted when they are complete

 Chapter 223 - Prologue - Prelude of Storm IV

    Chapter 223 - Prologue - Prelude of Storm IV


    King Virillius Augustus swished a cup of vekratt as he sat alone in his late uncle¡¯s study. He spent a moment staring out the window, into the beautiful courtyard, before raising the mug to his lips and draining its contents.


    It was the exact same scene that had played out every evening for the past week. Inheriting the throne had brought him nothing but work and trouble. As king, he was duty bound to make executive decisions on all manner of matters, many of which he had not the slightest clue. While he certainly did consider himself well learned, he lacked the extensive wisdom and experience that his predecessor accrued over his long tenure. He understood taxation and the various effects that adjustments to it could make, but it was only ever his own domain that he had managed, and as an absentee landlord at that. When asked for his opinion on the national budget, he could do little but state that it was to be made a future consideration. He did not, after all, know why the public education program was given exactly 362 glaives and 2 daggers, nor did he have the slightest inkling as to the current state of its affairs.


    Many of the ministers and senators had their own thoughts to offer on each and every adjustment, but it was impossible to filter the definitive truth from the claims they made. He could tell when they lied to him, but discerning the reason was beyond his means without a thorough examination of each topic approached. Some were genuine with their intentions, seeking betterment for the people of the nation, while others were more inclined to stuff their own wallets with illicit gains. Whatever the case, the various ministers were shrewd enough for their intentions not to leak through at first glance.


    To facilitate the transitionary period, he made an effort to research and address one topic each day. His spies were deployed to the ministers¡¯ houses and tasked with observing them to ascertain the truth of their claims, while those more knowledgeable than he, particularly those more likely to be impartial to the relevant biases, educated him further on the relevant specifics.


    It was only during the night that he was able to escape the throes of kingship. For a few hours every evening, he would retire to his uncle¡¯s study and go about the personal business that had ultimately chained him to his fancy new seat. The number of confidential documents that had accrued over the eleven horned king¡¯s tenure was impossibly large. At his current rate, it would take the darkhorned cervitaur a full year just to index them, let alone scrutinize the files for any information pertaining to his traitorous brother¡¯s whereabouts. But as much as he wanted to hole himself up in Ferdinand¡¯s study and reduce the time eightfold, he could not simply abandon his post for a straight month. There were too many pressing issues for him to take even a day each week.


    While the cervitaur knew he was incompetent, a child in a suit at a formal event, confidence in the crown was at an all-time high. Cadrians believed in the standard selection process. It was a commonly accepted truth that only the greatest of men could become the most powerful, and that was precisely where the fallacy lay.


    There was no guarantee that a great man would make for a great ruler. In the past, it had often held true. The powerful often drew others to their side; they had competent people to delegate their tasks to. But Virillius was alone. His confidant had chosen Ferdinand¡¯s side and even dueled him on his predecessor¡¯s behalf. The Grand Magus had left Valencia following her defeat, stating that she wished to live a peaceful life in the countryside, where she would be involved in no more of the atrocities that the former duke so often considered.


    One would often turn to family in the case of such a falling out, but for Virillius, that was an impossible ask. His daughter was missing and his wife was dead. The few others that shared his blood had never truly taken his side.


    He held many of his old war buddies in a high enough regard to speak with them on close terms, but he knew better than to rely on them when it came time for matters of governance. Most were ready for nothing but violence and conquest; they were prepared to drop all their stately duties and go to war as they had in the olden days. But he could do no such thing. Now, his responsibilities were a thousand times heavier, and there were no active conflicts in which the warriors could vent their stress.


    The war with Kryddar was over, and there were no others on the horizon. King Virillius and King Ragnar had entered peace talks immediately after the former assumed the throne. Having heard rumours of their duel, the Cadrians assumed it a surrender, but in truth, it was but a ceasefire. Just as how the Kryddarian army had no way of stopping Virillius, the Cadrian army had no way of stopping the undying legion. Not even the former duke could wipe out the army in the few brief moments that they were vulnerable each day. Mutually assured destruction was all that awaited at the end of the line.


    He would need to find a solution, a way to satiate his loyalists without irresponsibly fanning the flames, but that would be a problem he solved at a later date. Future Virillius was sure to be wiser than he, after all.


    Having delayed the headache for a few hours at least, the exhausted monarch turned his eyes back towards his desk. His liquor break was over; the pile he planned to sort was still something in the realm of fifty documents high, and he had only two hours before the clock struck twelve.


    The next thirty minutes hinted at not a single lead. Most of the documents he read through detailed reports from the secret service, namely notes on corruption within the nobility, and the various weaknesses that could be exploited for political gain should the need arise. There were a few military documents, including two he had written himself, and oddly, over a dozen detailed reports on the efficacy of sexual interaction between centaurs and molluscs. Most of those, Virillius had offhandedly discarded. He had opened the first he happened across out of an investigative curiosity, but discovered it to be little beyond the most despicable kind of pornography. He had no idea of his uncle¡¯s strange fetish, prior to the investigation, and he was certainly not happy to have discovered its existence.


    Throwing another such document across the room, however, led him to reconsider. A neatly folded piece of paper slipped out from between its pages as it tumbled to the ground. Seeing numbers and symbols scribbled all over, Virillius got up from his desk, retrieved the page, and gave it a more careful read. They were all simple calculations, derivatives and differential equations with no obvious meaning. He was almost tempted to think that it was a child¡¯s homework, but there was no reason for Ferdinand to keep such a silly piece of scrap in his top secret file, especially when it was riddled with errors.


    Virillius attempted to derive meaning by correcting the mistakes, but found nothing. When he turned the page over, however, his eyes opened wide. On the other side was a letter addressed to his uncle, dated only one and a half weeks prior, and penned in none other than his daughter¡¯s own hand.


    A small smile crossed his lips as he traced his eyes over the letters and took in the detailed account of what she described as a ¡°sudden and presumably unlawful act of war.¡± He read it three times before placing it down on the desk and filling his mug again.


    He had known that she was alive from the homunculus¡¯ often inconsistent behaviour, but the letter¡¯s tone appeared to suggest that she was well. She had, after all, taken the time out of her day to write an entire paragraph regarding the unfairness that was his ruling against pets, as well as her acquisition thereof, rest the poor thing¡¯s soul. He doubted that she would have gone on such a rant had she been in dire straits. He did raise her to have some degree of common sense, after all.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    For a brief moment, the man¡¯s fiery eyes turned lifeless, but he soon dismissed the mind-bending thought and returned to sorting through his predecessor¡¯s notes.


    There had to be a hint. Something that would point him to his brother¡¯s whereabouts.


    ___


    A quiet giggle escaped Vella¡¯s lips as she focused her many eyes on the many parts of her domain. Prosperity was at a hundred year high; her temples were bursting with activity, offerings in her name were flowing like water, and her follower count¡ªand subsequently, her divinity¡ªwas ramping up by the thousands. All in spite of the fact that the war had yet to begin.


    ¡°I knew I was right to choose him.¡±


    Her spider mouth chittered as she watched Virillius go about his morning routine. His location had changed from his floating castle to one planted firmly on the ground, but his actions remained identical. One thousand times a second, he swung his spear and cycled through his forms, executing them as perfectly as he had on every other occasion. While most would have considered it in line with their expectations, Vella was most certainly impressed, for the weapon was not one with which he was familiar. The spear that she had bestowed upon him rested atop the rack in his room, temporarily replaced with the piece of divine regalia she had offered to his uncle.


    Dewdromn was a moody weapon. It often refused to respond to its wielder¡¯s commands, demanding additional mana at random and wasting it on flashy but otherwise pointless effects. Its weight could be manipulated, but the spear suffered from the inability to maintain a specific mass. It would inevitably grow bored and shift to another on a whim, making it not only obnoxious to wield, but annoying to carry. If petty harassment was a weapon, then the divine spear would be it. Still, Virillius proceeded as usual, with no error in his swings or hesitation in his steps. He was truly a piece the goddess could rely on to carry out her will.


    Turning her attention away from the monstrous cervitaur, she looked towards another temple in another city, where the invincible warrior¡¯s daughter awaited. Being only a tiny fraction of his age, she possessed nowhere near as much power or experience, but Vella was excited to see her regardless. She stamped her legs against the stone floor when the qiligon requested to use the amphitheatre, and nearly jumped out of her web when the mortal began to pray.


    ¡°O goddess of war, great conqueress of men and blood.¡±


    Vella squealed as the text popped up in her UI, but she was quick to right her posture and appearance.


    ¡°I thank you for the favour you have bestowed upon me in battle, and for your continued aid in the many that lay on the road ahead. I have come as requested to seek a task worthy of your blessing, such that I may carry on the duty of those bound by my blood, and manifest your will upon the mortal plains.¡±


    The arachne summoned the misshapen chimera immediately upon the prayer¡¯s completion and raised her into the divine realm. She modified her pocket in the continuum while the process was underway. The messy weapon and armour holders that filled the hall were brushed aside, turned from giant webs to glass displays and cabinets. The many souls that she safeguarded were taken from their slumbers and placed along the outer walls, forming a rank and file, a veritable army of the most handsome and powerful warriors known to time. She herself was positioned at the hall¡¯s far end, upon a divine throne of bloodied trophies, a mound made from the ancient relics her chosen had destroyed.


    Once finished, the goddess looked around the room and inspected her handiwork. She began with a satisfied nod, but her expression was quick to cloud. Right before the mortal¡¯s summoning completed, she wiped the slate clean and modified it so that Claire would see the very same scene with which the arachnid had first greeted her father.


    They moved to her bedroom, its silken curtains as perfectly arranged as the see-through lingerie that now decorated the divine¡¯s frame. Every part of her was laid bare. From the battle scars that snaked all over her otherwise porcelain body to her silken hair, its tips dyed a deep, bloody red. Her wings, she spread behind her, proudly displaying the weapons of which they were composed; twisted swords, buster rifles, holy spears, each beautiful and powerful enough to throw whole continents into disarray. But again, she shook her head and changed her mind. The process repeated at least fifty times; she shifted back and forth between the two presets before finally giving up and selecting the more chaste of the two options. The divine arachne had spent the better part of the last few years researching the seduction of women, precisely for the moment that was now in front of her, but she had yet to arrive at anything applicable to the case at hand.


    Men were much easier. At worst, she would have to adjust her figure and alter the size of her chest. Such invincible tactics, however, rarely ever worked on the fairer sex, and Vella had no idea why. She herself would have gladly taken the bait, after all.


    Upon the mortal¡¯s arrival, the spider was elated to find that her choice had been correct. Claire¡¯s reactions were as controlled as her father¡¯s, but the goddess was certain that her eyes had flickered, darting around the room to take in the magnificent display.


    The undying warlord¡¯s heart raced as she watched the twenty meter-long snake-moose approach. Her steps were confident, and each was matched with either the distinctive clack of a talon against the floor, or the thud of a hoof. There was over a kilometer between them, but Vella waited patiently, speaking only as her target came to a halt.


    ¡°Good morning, Claire.¡±


    ¡°Good morning, Goddess.¡± The massive creature bowed its head. ¡°I thank you for the opportunity to set foot within the hall of heroes.¡±


    Vella smiled. ¡°You will have found yourself here one day regardless.¡±


    ¡°It is an honour, but I will have to decline.¡±


    ¡°Of course, beloved one. If that is your will.¡± Vella giggled. Claire would come around eventually. They always did. ¡°Now, for your trial.¡± The spider put on a devilish grin, ¡°I would like you to do two things, swear to me, and defeat your father in single combat,¡± and spoke a line sure to unleash the ripples of war.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not.¡±


    Reality, however, was not as kind as the goddess¡¯ imagination. Rather than happily agreeing, as the divine had hoped, Claire looked upon the immortal with the sort of judging glare that a precocious child would give to an adult less mature.


    Vella did not immediately process the denial. She continued putting the quest together for a solid five seconds before she finally realised that she had been rejected.


    ¡°Bwuh?¡± The spider made a silly noise as she looked between the half-made quest and its supposed recipient. ¡°W-wait, what!? Huh!?¡±


    ¡°You of all people should know my father¡¯s power. Besting him is a fool¡¯s errand.¡±


    ¡°Well, yes, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Do not take me for an idiot, goddess,¡± spat the lyrkress. ¡°You made an impossible request right after I refused to join the hall of heroes in death, so I would be more likely to find myself at your side.¡± Vella could only turn her face away in silence. She had much more time than the mortal to think, but she was unable to come up with the right words to put an end to an assault. ¡°Did you perhaps voice the first coherent thought to come to mind?¡±


    ¡°O-of course not,¡± stuttered the goddess. ¡°I-I was just teasing you.¡±


    ¡°Sure you were.¡± Claire rolled her eyes before turning around and making for the hall¡¯s grand entrance. ¡°This is a waste of time. I¡¯m leaving.¡±


    ¡°Y-you¡¯re leaving!? Wait, wait, no! Don¡¯t leave!¡± The spider swung off her treasure pile and made for the longmoose¡¯s back, but her target shrunk to a fraction of her previous size to reveal a pillar right before she made impact. Vella cut her thread and aimed another, but the flustered goddess misangled her rear and crashed straight into the stone column, falling to the ground in an embarrassed, twitching heap. ¡°It really was just a joke!¡± She pushed herself to her feet midshout and latched onto the lyrkress-shaped qiligon¡¯s rear. ¡°I¡¯ll give a real quest, with a really nice reward! I promise!¡±


    Claire craned her neck towards the spider to reveal a cold, judging glare. ¡°I don¡¯t care. Get off me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll even throw in a nice bonus to help you! Come on! What about a nice relic weapon of some sort? I¡¯ll even let you take your pick!¡±


    ¡°No thanks. I¡¯d rather use my lizard.¡¯¡±


    Vella opened her mouth to complain, but the mortal vanished from her realm before her words could come out, leaving the goddess to sit stock still with her jaw nearly molesting the floor.

 Chapter 224 - Through the Looking Glass

    Chapter 224 - Through the Looking Glass


    A particularly jagged clam tumbled through the city¡¯s waterways in a drunken stupor, crashing into just about everything in his path as he wandered his way back to his home. The mollusc had finished a long day¡¯s work, begging at the northern wharf for the fishermen to share their booze. It wasn¡¯t necessary, of course. As a filter feeder, the jobless, middle-aged man had no need for anything but the sea. He would grow fat as long as he hovered beneath the waves, a fulfilling life with all the happiness prescribed by the goddess of the flow.


    While others were happy to spend their days eating and eating and eating away, Doorknob found his idle existence too numbing. He craved more excitement, stimulation for his mind. Something more than the ever-repetitive crashing of waves.


    That was why he sought the bottle, why he participated in degenerate, sinful vices like commuting, work, and abstinence, and why everyone knew his name.


    It was precisely his reputation as the district fool that had earned him his place of residence. The southern dock¡¯s locals were strange, often chasing others of his kind away for no obvious reason. Their lack of neighbourly spirit was precisely what made their domain the perfect feeding ground. The reefs were rich with plankton, and the sewage that leaked from the pipe nearby gave the water an extra salty tang, an absolute treat whenever he woke up hungover.


    Of course, the clam was not nearly as stupid as he let on. As a self-proclaimed genius, he understood that his most recent home was owned by a mentally ill landlord with a peculiar set of needs. For one, Bloodwing wished for his business to be labeled a ¡°krimminnel sinndackitte,¡± whatever that meant. His employees, which he referred to as ¡°grunts,¡± were happy to play along, and Doorknob soon decided that as one who resided on his land, he would entertain the unstable teenager as well.


    Each night, he saw them at play with actors from various walks of life. They would transport the crates of goods they traded, and sometimes people as well. Their operations were of an abnormal scale, even greater than those of the weird people up north with the ugly black flags. Sometimes, even the knights would come to entertain the well-off, deranged half-fish. Like all the others, they would fulfill his obsession by referring to him as ¡°Dawn.¡± Because the gentlemen were so nice, the man¡¯s caretakers often presented the knights with money, a sort of way to compensate them for going out of their way to play along.


    Through trial and error, Doorknob found that the man was not as invested into his game as he seemed at first glance. For one, he did not seem to know the difference between dawn and morning. During his first few weeks, Doorknob had shifted between the two of them at random, and the man only ever corrected him in the evening. The mollusc felt bad, of course, and eventually did away with the prank, but because he felt it strange to refer to a man with a lady¡¯s name, he sought another alternative. In the end, he settled on referring to the fish-bug as boss, and he seemed to readily accept. The clam was worried that it was because he still could not tell the difference, but decided that he was better off not thinking about it any further. It was not the reality of the situation that mattered, but rather his intention, after all.


    Though peculiar, the man had somehow put together an incredibly successful business model. In addition to just moving people around, he would sometimes sell them back to their friends and families. Doorknob had no idea how he managed to put such an absurd plan into action, but took note of it as a future point of reference. One day, he decided, he would learn from the bug-fish¡¯s ways and come with an equally mind-numbing scheme.


    Alas, though the man certainly had a talent for business, not all his deals would work out as planned. And in those cases, Bloodwing would more often than not dispose of the merchandise. The friendly neighbourhood clam had been caught off guard by this at first, but hearing one of the particularly vocal women, who had screamed over and over that she should be killed for being soiled, convinced him that it was a matter of pride and dedication. More excellent goods, he did not think possible. They were just as invested in their quality as the man who sold them.


    The soiled goods were often thrown off the side of the pier immediately upon their disposal. The clam had known that his place of residence would come with all sorts of minor inconveniences, but illegal dumping had not been within the scope of his expectations. He almost filed a complaint with the landlord, but perhaps by a stroke of goodwill, decided to aid them in cleaning up their mess instead. After all, the leaking blood was quite delectable, and his razor edges allowed him to shred the discarded goods into pieces just small enough to be caught in his filters.


    When the landlord noticed this behaviour, he even seemed to dub him as one of their own, bestowing upon his shell one of the tattoos that were their signature.


    Of course, the clam already had a reputable job as a beggar and had no intention of taking on another responsibility. Even working professionals such as himself had limits. But after giving it a trial run, at the boss¡¯ insistence, he soon found that there were not as many disadvantages as he first believed. The tattoo only aided in his begging efforts. His friends at the northern wharf gave him more drinks than they did before, most of which were of a higher quality. The greatest drawback was that the people at the real estate company began chatting with him more, but he learned to deal with them by minimizing the frequency of his reactions. He would never say anything, and rarely did anything beyond casually flapping his lids in response. It was precisely this behaviour that had earned the clam his moniker; they had decided that, because he was attached to the building, he would be known as their doorknob.


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    The nickname hadn¡¯t stuck at first, but it grew on him over the years, slowly turning from an undesired designation to the only one he answered to. He had long forgotten his previous identity, and so too had the system, replacing whatever his old name was with the one that he had come to possess.


    Through his long tenure, Doorknob had learned that the business had only one rule: never to disobey the boss. Even if his mind was not in the best of places, Bloodwing ruled over its operations with an iron talon. What he said always went, perhaps because he was a successful entrepreneur, and perhaps because they simply wished to cater to the poor soul.


    After associating with the man more closely, Doorknob discovered that Bloodwing was not just a lucky businessman but an idiot savant. His brain was finely tuned for exactly two things: money and martial arts. So famous was his barehanded skill that he would be sent challengers from all walks of life. There was even a second subset of knights that visited, who engaged him to combat in an attempt to prove themselves as elites.


    Perhaps because he was a halfbreed, or perhaps because of the state of his mind, the southern wharf¡¯s residents did not appear to believe that it was right for him to be their champion. They soon stepped in to reconcile the difference by hiring ¡°merssenairys¡± to take him down, but never once did the man have to give up his belt. He fought tooth and nail regardless of the number of holes and scratches that covered his frame, and his semiaquatic nature ensured that the terrain would never prove itself his weakness. His finger wings made it so he could fly faster than other above the ground whilst swimming faster than a clam underwater. He was even better than Doorknob at holding his breath; he could go nearly three hours without having to break for air.


    By the tenth failure, everyone, everyone, knew that defeating him was impossible.


    And that was why Doorknob was always surprised to see someone try.


    The first challenger that visited after the public¡¯s admission of defeat came in the form of a young man. He was a kelpfin, a tail-walking shark with the ability to grow limbs of seaweed and manipulate them in a way that would put any land dweller to shame. From the way he carried his eight weapons, and the ease with which he cut through the grunts, it was clear that the man was a master swordsman.


    At least fifty of the sea-crypt organisation¡¯s members were bested on that day. Their heads rolled from their necks, leaving rivers of blood for Doorknob to consume. And yet, despite his jaw-dropping prowess, the blademaster could not match the boss, for though he had removed the half-insect¡¯s wings, his blades could not pierce his carapace. The opposite, however, did not hold true. It took only one well-placed attack for Bloodwing to jab a leg through the shark¡¯s chest and rip out his still-beating heart.


    The next challenger was not nearly as successful, claiming only two or three wins on his way to the fish-bug. Perhaps to conserve his stamina, he crept along the building after beating those standing guard outside and carved a hole directly into the boss¡¯ room. As someone that lived beneath the wharf, Doorknob did not catch sight of many of the details to follow, but the boss eventually stumbled out the front door, laughing as he chucked the intruder out into the water.


    It was the third challenger that finally brought a change to the status quo. Rather than an individual, the real estate agents were stuck facing a group, albeit one that was made up of only a few members. With how female they were, Doorknob expected the intruders to be defeated in seconds, but strangely enough, the boys were unable to stand opposed. One by one, they were beaten by a particularly strange creature that moved on four legs whilst carrying a pointy stick in its mouth.


    When the boss emerged from the building to meet them, he faced the four-legged freak alongside the one whose head was a triangle. Doorknob had expected to see one of the usual landslide victories, but the boss was quickly suppressed. He was violently beaten, over and over, until he finally fell to his knees.


    For a moment, it looked like Bloodwing still had a chance. The triangle-fetishist made an attempt to speak to him, providing him ample opportunity to twist one of his wings back into shape, but the lazy sea foam-coloured creature in the back interrupted the fight before he could act. A kick removed his head, sending it straight into the shallows where the drunken clam lay.


    Because it fell near him, Doorknob did exactly as he always had and consumed it whole. He expected the idiot¡¯s flesh to be as sweet as his heart, but for some odd reason, he found it strangely bitter. Like the taste of a piece of kelp that had floated for too long at sea.


    It appeared that, following his loss, the boss surrendered his business to the strange group that defeated him. Doorknob did not quite understand why, but as the furthest thing from a sore loser, Bloodwing never showed his face around the wharf again. He had expected the employees to stay at least, but they were also replaced. With the change in management came an equal change in operations. He began seeing different goods being shipped, and in far fewer quantities. While he suspected that their acumen for business was not as well honed, the clam was unable to draw any concrete conclusions. That, of course, was inevitable. Doorknob knew little of real estate, only that it was all about repetition.


    The new owners did not appear all that happy with his presence. One day, when he was stumbling drunkenly along the wharf, he was greeted by a small resident coloured brightly like a coral. He didn¡¯t quite get what she said, but the gist was that he was going to have to go away.


    Doorknob was understandably upset. The southern wharf¡¯s waters had been particularly bountiful, after all, but he did not struggle, resist, or even speak up against the loss of his home. It was out of respect that he kept silent, for the agent was kind enough to open up her mouth and transport him with her own four legs. In the darkness of her belly, he was unable to see where they were going, but frankly, he cared very little.


    The sizzling bath was wonderful, and he felt as if he could hear Bloodwing calling. Whatever the case, he closed his eyes and allowed his consciousness to drift. Then and there, he finally understood the creed that all the other clams shared.


    It was exactly as his mother had always told him.


    Good tides were freely blessed upon those patient enough to wait.

 Chapter 225 - Through the Looking Glass II

    Chapter 225 - Through the Looking Glass II


    A little girl with a bumpy dorsal fin sighed as she stared out a tiny glass window. Her big, blue tail was swinging in her chair, her fins were buried in her cheeks, and her lips were twisted into an adorable pout. It was early in the afternoon, only an hour past lunch. She was supposed to be outside, playing in fields with her friends. If she was lucky, she could even sneak off into the forest while none of the grown ups were looking and play with Mr. Cammy. But she couldn¡¯t. She had been stuck inside for a whole week already.


    It wasn¡¯t because it was wet and rainy outside. It was still nice and warm, and the sun was way up in the sky, but none of the grown ups would let her go outside. They kept saying that it was too dangerous to play, but she knew that they were just lying so they could hog all the sun to themselves. It wasn¡¯t fair. They were still doing all the things they always did, like working the fields, and they even let the older kids help them. Eva, however, was too small to be anything but stuck inside. All the other kids were there too, cooped up in the temple with absolutely nothing to do at all.


    The temple wasn¡¯t really the problem. Eva didn¡¯t mind it, and she loved all its priests and priestesses. They always patched her up whenever she got hurt without ever scolding her like her mother, and Sister Ar¡¯viette was even nice enough to make her favourite snacks every time she visited. All the dried clams and shrimp flakes made her tummy happy, that didn¡¯t change the fact that she was bored out of her mind.


    Some of her friends were okay with staying inside; the temple was one of the best spots to play hide and seek because it had nooks and crannies everywhere, but it wasn¡¯t the same as playing outdoors. Sitting in a tree was way more fun than hiding in some stuffy cabinet.


    It was almost like she was being grounded even though she did nothing wrong, and worse yet, there were even a bunch of strange, dangerous-looking people trying to move into the village. The four weirdos wore different clothes from everyone else, and she had even seen one of them turn into a monster one night when no one was watching, but none of her friends had believed her when she tattled, and her parents brushed it off like it wasn¡¯t a big deal even though it really was.


    ¡°Oh, I know! Maybe Sister Barn¡¯stell will listen.¡±


    Leaping off her chair, and landing with an oof, the tiny shark pitter-pattered her way across the temple grounds. Climbing the stairs was really tough. She had to stop and catch her breath three times before she made it all the way to the top, but eventually, she dragged herself up onto the fifth floor and raced her way across the finish line.


    She stood up on her tippy toes and raised a fin to knock, but she stopped when she heard an unfamiliar voice come from the other side of the door. The tiny kelpfin knew that she wasn¡¯t supposed to stick her nose into the grown ups¡¯ business, but she couldn¡¯t help it. She grabbed the handle, creaked it open, and peeked inside with her suspicions growing.


    Sister Barn¡¯stell was speaking with the weirdos she hated. And to make matters worse, all four of them were grouped up together, and none acted with even the tiniest little bit of respect. The creepy bug man was playing with his scythe arms, the nerdy girl with the glasses was staring at a book, and worst of all, the really white girl with the weird orange hat was fast asleep. The one with the shiny stuff on her skin didn¡¯t look like she was doing anything wrong, but for some odd reason, Eva got the feeling that she was acting like she owned the place. It didn¡¯t make any sense. The church was supposed to belong to the goddess.


    ¡°How many of them did you say there were?¡± asked Four-eyes.


    The head priestess wrinkled her brow and shook her head. ¡°There¡¯s a few dozen at least, but no one¡¯s got a good count. Some are saying three, others seven, but there might be even more.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s alright,¡± said the book-girl. ¡°If they¡¯re as you¡¯ve described, then they¡¯re most likely ritternaeds. We should be able to take care of them no matter how many there are.¡±


    ¡±Thank the goddess.¡± Sister Barn¡¯estell placed a hand upon her breast and closed her eyes in a moment of prayer. ¡°And thank you as well. Truly, we can¡¯t thank you enough for accepting such a low paying request.¡±


    It looked like they were mostly done talking, so Eva stuck the rest of her body through the door and squeezed her way inside. ¡°What¡¯s a ritterndnend?¡±


    ¡°Oh, Eva¡¯igne¡­ What did I say about interrupting my meetings?¡± asked the thirty-year-old kelpfin with a frown.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry¡­ I was just really curious.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you were, but these nice people and I are having an important conversation right now. I¡¯m sure you have some things to ask, but I¡¯d really appreciate it if you could step out and wait until we¡¯re done. I¡¯ll be glad to answer whatever I can after, okay?¡±


    ¡°...Okay.¡± Eva puffed up her cheeks and lowered her head as she stepped back outside. She hated it. It was all the outsiders¡¯ fault. They were getting her in trouble even though she didn¡¯t do anything wrong. Sister Barn¡¯stell would¡¯ve never turned her away if it was anyone else in there with her.


    The part that bugged her the most was that everyone was welcoming them. Some of the other kids were talking about how cool they were, and even her mom and dad had told her to stay out of their way. It wasn¡¯t fair. She knew that they weren¡¯t doing much work. It was already their second day in the village, and none of them had tried to lift a hoe.


    Puffing up her cheeks, Eva stomped her way downstairs and flopped down next to the window. Her whole life was gonna suck if things kept going at the rate they were. She was going to stay cooped up forever, and ever, and ever, and they wouldn¡¯t let her go until she was old as Sister Mrn¡¯talir.


    ¡°I have to do something¡­¡± she muttered, under her breath.


    She wasn¡¯t really sure what that something was, but she knew for certain she was going to need to break out first. She really wanted to ask some of the other kids for help, but she realised that they weren¡¯t gonna. The boys were too busy pretending to be knights and heroes, while the girls were baking with Sister Ar¡¯viette. But it wasn¡¯t like it really mattered. They probably weren¡¯t going to listen to her anyway, and even if they did, they would¡¯ve just tattled instead of helping her out.


    That was why she chose to work on her master plan in secret. There wasn¡¯t all that much she could do all by herself, but she didn¡¯t have to. She raised her fins to her mouth, took a deep breath, and shouted for one of her bestest friends.


    ¡°Chesshie!¡±


    He answered right away. Ch¡¯shire, a fuzzy little thingymabob with a long, hairless tail, pushed open one of the drawers and climbed out into the open. She knew he was super excited. He ran three huge circles around her before running up her fin and climbing up onto her nose. He squeaked loudly and raised a hand to his face. It was a lot like one of the salutes that the knights always made when they came around during the harvest season. Eva had only seen them two times, but she could still remember them both like they were yesterday.


    ¡°I need you to help me get out of this crusty old temple!¡±


    Tilting his head, the rat squeaked twice and pointed a finger at the front door.


    ¡°That¡¯s not gonna work! Brother Mor¡¯ian is watching over the garden, and he¡¯d catch me the moment I got out!¡± she cried, ¡°I have to be sneaky, really, really, reeaaaally sneaky!¡±


    Ch¡¯shire raised his ears and spent a moment pondering the problem before clapping his tiny little hands together and leaping off the girl¡¯s hand like an acrobat. A see-through trapeze appeared in the air in front of him, allowing him to do a flip, a twist, and a turn before landing perfectly on the windowsill. After taking a moment to pose, he grabbed the rail and lifted it with all his strength, but to no avail. The glass panel refused to budge, even when Eva climbed onto her chair and helped out as best she could.


    ¡°It¡¯s no good, Chesshie. It¡¯s not gonna budge.¡± She took deep breaths as she gave up and slumped back onto the ground.


    Falling back onto its own fuzzy butt, the rat scratched its head and squeaked. As a tiny rodent with a strength stat of two, there was unfortunately not much he could do.


    ¡°I think you¡¯re just gonna have to distract Brother Mor¡¯ian for me.¡± The young kelpfin slowly lifted the rat and placed him atop her snout. ¡°I think he¡¯ll probably get mad and chase you around a bit if you mess with the fields.¡±


    The rat shook its head and squeaked rapidly. As a holy beast blessed by Primrose herself, he could commit no such blasphemy.


    ¡°Fine. Then I¡¯m just gonna run for it and tell him that you messed up the fields if he catches me!¡±


    Ch¡¯shire chirped in protest, but his complaint failed to reach its target. The young lass had already dashed halfway across the temple.


    ¡°Well¡­ that¡¯s certainly not the outcome I was hoping for,¡± the rodent spoke aloud as he stood up on his hind legs and pressed a hand to the glass. ¡°I doubt Mor¡¯ian will fall for the fib, but I¡¯d best warn him.¡± The priest in question was one of the hot-headed types, and there was a chance that he would flare up in anger and completely forget to use his brain.


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    After checking the girl¡¯s trajectory again, the rat tapped into another one of his clones and sought the man stationed atop the temple¡¯s roof.


    ¡°Brother Mor¡¯ian!¡± He tilted his head when he failed to find the man in question, only to spot a foot propped up on the other side of the roof. It looked like he was napping, which was a bit strange given the zealous fervour he normally worked with, but the rat dismissed the peculiarity and ran over. ¡°Brother Mor¡¯ian! There you ar¡ª¡± The rat¡¯s face turned pale as he laid eyes on a cold, lifeless corpse.


    He almost wanted to write it off as impossible. As the temple¡¯s guardian spirit, Ch¡¯shire was capable of sensing everything that happened within its grounds. He could feel each plant and its precise condition, he could smell every rock used in the building¡¯s construction, and he could receive telepathic messages from the faithful within the temple¡¯s grounds. And yet, he had known nothing about the priest¡¯s sudden demise.


    Something was wrong. Eva¡¯igne was in danger.


    He shifted his consciousness to another clone and chased after her, but it was no good. Even with an entire magical circus at his disposal, the rat was not fast enough to reach her before she escaped the temple¡¯s grounds. He tried growing out the plants in her path, but she was unimpeded. She leapt over the grass that tried to grab her by the fins, and dodged under the towering trees that stretched their branches towards her.


    The rodent swore under his breath. The level of his magic was too low. It was impossible for him to catch a person running at top speed with rudimentary wood spells, even if that person happened to be the tiniest of children.


    Still cursing his own incompetence, he shifted to another clone and informed one of the priests about the event before hesitantly stepping outside the temple¡¯s grounds and continuing to give chase. Beyond the goddess¡¯ domain¡ªhis domain¡ªhis powers were greatly weakened, but he had no other choice. Eva was heading straight towards the forest, and if he failed to pursue her, then there was a good chance that she would be lost.


    Following directly in her footsteps, he ran along the path, quickly as he could, whilst squeaking at the top of his lungs. Her face lit up when she realised that he was following. Practically jumping for joy, she sped up, moving along at an even higher speed than before. It was a frustrating development. Had they been closer to town, someone surely would have noticed the chirps and giggles, but the fields right outside the temple were untouched. They were left to grow with no outside influence, so that the villagers could interpret the will of their goddess and cycle their crops accordingly.


    The closest farmers were two, maybe three kilometers away, and the forest was in the direction opposite their fields. Everyone had absolute confidence that the church would keep the children safe, and Ch¡¯shire had a duty to see that confidence unbroken.


    He jumped onto Eva¡¯s back as soon as he caught up and tugged on her fin, but she did a flip and threw him off. All the trampolines he put in her path were evaded; she treated them like part of a game, not understanding the danger that awaited.


    There were signs outside the forest with explicit warnings written upon them, but the illiterate five year old ignored them and bolted straight in. Ch¡¯shire knew that there was no point in warning her. Even if he spoke, he would be treated like another boring grown up and ignored as per her budding rebellious spirit.


    ¡°You see, Chesshie?¡± She grabbed a fruit from a nearby shrub and bit into its blue-green flesh. ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with being outside! The grown ups are just being mean for no reason.¡± She tore off a small piece for the rat, who reluctantly gave in and partook after a bit of prodding. ¡°Now come on! Follow me! I¡¯ll show you my most favouritest spot.¡±


    Ch¡¯shire raised his guard again as soon as he was finished with the snack. He carefully scanned the surroundings, eyes and ears peeled for any sign of danger as the child made her way through the forest.


    Her ability to navigate the undergrowth was impressive, even ignoring her age. She moved from landmark to landmark, rarely ever stopping to reorient herself in spite of the recent damage to the forest. The spirit rat could tell that the fallen trees were fresh; some were still alive, screaming that they would soon perish were they not reintroduced to the ground.


    After just a few minutes, the pair arrived in a serene meadow, a small clearing in the forest ruled by grasses and flowers. Ch¡¯shire squeaked in horror when he saw the massive beast slumbering in the middle of the field, but the young kelpfin dragged herself over to it and leapt into its fur. It briefly opened one of its eyes when she made contact, but contrary to the rat¡¯s expectations, the most it did was lightly flick the girl with its tail. It was a modest show of annoyance, one that almost distracted the rodent from the half-healed wound scarring the beast¡¯s belly. The fight had to have been recent; the injury had yet to close and the red stain beneath it was still growing, spreading into the grass. Ch¡¯shire tried to investigate further, but a light flick of the tail knocked him away before he could examine it in detail.


    When he regained his balance and looked upon the misshapen horse, he found its four eyes upon him. The beast shook its head, coughed once, and then lowered its stance again. A silent warning to keep his nose out of its business.


    Perhaps because she was simply inattentive, or perhaps because she had never considered the possibility of its injury, the girl happily climbed its back without seeing the wound. It didn¡¯t quite seem to mind, even when it winced in pain, but Ch¡¯shire soon realised that it was not as idle as it otherwise appeared. Like him, it was on guard, constantly scanning its surroundings, and not in the way that a predator would.


    The rat shuddered. The ungulate was a brute of a beast. It was over ten meters tall; the twelve legs that grew from its six humps were each as thick as the trunk of a tree, and the tusks that erupted from its lips were sharp enough to gore a lion.


    And yet, even it was wounded. Fearful. Waiting for Xekkur to call it to his side.


    The camel snapped to attention right as the rodent gulped down a breath. Following its eyes, Ch¡¯shire found a creature only a few times his own size. It was also a rodent, a guinea pig to be exact, albeit a monstrous variant with a pair of terrifying antlers growing from its rear. They were long and metallic, shaped like bolts of lightning and dripping with blood. Its mouth was gaping open, revealing three lines of jagged teeth with a dozen tongues between them. Together, the appendages emerged from the cavity and formed a prong, a prong around which magic soon began to gather.


    Both the rat and the camel reacted right away. They dodged in opposite directions, leaping out of the meadow and into the forest. The foliage, however, did little to stop the beam in its tracks. The raw electricity ripped right through the wood. Tree after tree was torn asunder, filling the woodland with smoke and death.


    Ch¡¯shire coughed as he got back to his feet, just in time to witness disaster strike. The other rodent dashed up to the camel¡¯s neck and ripped off its head with its jagged, thunderbolt blades. The child was next. She was caught in a violent explosion of electricity as the smaller beast roared, declaring its victory to the world.


    Not missing a beat, it turned towards the rat, its eyes glowing blue with thunder. When it lunged, he assumed himself dead. He could feel the warmth spread from between his legs as it drew closer. And time almost seemed to slow as he raised his tiny limbs as a hopeless, last line of defense. But he was lucky. A metallic flash skewered it before it could rip him apart.


    When he looked up at his saviour, he found a short-haired brunette with a pair of cat-like ears. The other sellswords were right behind her, weapons at the ready, but they were unnecessary. The hunter was already dead.


    ¡°Damn it! We were too late!¡± The catgirl tightened her grip on her blade as she cast her eyes on the fallen kelpfin.


    A second guinea pig jumped out of the underbrush before the mercenary had a chance to catch her breath, but she eliminated it before it could make contact. Dozens more followed suit. They jumped out of the bushes and charged with their lightning rods pulsing, just to be cut down like wheat during the harvest.


    ¡°I thought you said we were here for experience.¡± The white-haired girl spoke with her eerily cold eyes on the corpses. ¡°These things aren¡¯t worth killing.¡±


    ¡°Do not despair, Claire. Trust in Griselda¡¯s guidance, and you shall receive.¡± A buxom witch covered in tattoos defeated a particularly large monster with her staff as she reproached her companion.


    ¡°Yes, but they¡¯re level thirty. We might as well head back to Skyreach Spire.¡±


    ¡°Their levels surely would have been higher had you believed.¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t how that works.¡±


    Another dozen fell while they spoke, perhaps more. Each was defeated with a light whack or an offhanded smack.


    ¡°I think I might¡¯ve found one that¡¯s a bit stronger.¡± The brunette spoke as she stared down a much larger guinea pig. Its general morphology was like the others, only it was two meters tall and covered in a shroud of lightning.


    ¡°Probably once ascended at most,¡± said the girl with the massive ears.


    Ch¡¯shire was tempted to assume that the extra large guinea pig would bring an immediate and unfortunate end to the conflict, that not even the intrepid adventurers could defeat a beast so fearsome, but it exploded into a burst of blood before he could even register all of its features. It took him a moment, but observing the after-effects led him to realise that the white-haired girl had moved faster than he could see. From her posture, her freshly stained clothes, and the strange, almost reptilian hammer that had suddenly appeared in her hands, he concluded that she had hit it so hard that it had popped like a balloon.


    ¡°Oh. Not bad,¡± she said, as she wiped the blood off of her face. ¡°That one was level four ten.¡±


    ¡°Do you understand now, Claire? There is no error in the goddess¡¯ guidance.¡±


    ¡°Maybe if there were more of them.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry!¡± The fox pranced over to the other girls¡¯ sides. ¡°There¡¯s a whole lot of them nearby. I¡¯m pretty sure there¡¯s a dungeon or something ¡®cause there¡¯s way too many for it to be a wild population.¡±


    ¡°Then what are we waiting for?¡± The silver girl picked up the orange furball and stretched her cheeks far wider than should have been physically possible. ¡°Hurry up. Lead the way.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what about the kid? Shouldn¡¯t we¡­ you know?¡± said the cat.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing we can do for her. It¡¯s better not to dwell on it.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± The cat squeezed her fist tight enough for blood to drip from her fingers. ¡°Yeah. You¡¯re right.¡± She took another breath.


    ¡°Besides, they already have a representative. We should just leave them to handle the rites.¡±


    ¡°I concur. A mishandling on our parts could prove more disrespectful to a group so keen on their goddess¡¯ teachings.¡±


    ¡°...Alright.¡±


    As quickly as they came, the adventurers were gone, vanished into the forest without so much as acknowledging his existence. For a while, the rat stared at the spot where they had melded into the greenery, snapping to attention as he recalled that he had not entered the woods alone.


    He rushed over to the child¡¯s side, only to collapse when he found her, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes.


    It was all his fault.


    It should have been him.


    But because he had failed to act, to fulfill his role as the temple¡¯s guardian spirit, another one of Primrose¡¯s faithful would have to be returned to the soil.

 Chapter 226 - Through the Looking Glass III

    Chapter 226 - Through the Looking Glass III


    Carter clasped his hands together and took a deep breath before reciting all the usual lines of worship. It was his morning routine. Each time the plainsrunner awoke, he would situate himself atop his bed, stab a knife into each of his hooves, and offer the gods his blood. Such was his way of paying penance, of seeking freedom from the guilt that still plagued the very depths of his mind. The self-mutilation no longer hurt nearly as much as it had when he first began, and while some may have resorted to a greater degree of punishment, the self-proclaimed missionary saw no purpose in intensifying his suffering. It was not out of fear or selfishness that he refrained, but rather appreciation, for it was the gods that steeled his nerves, just as how it was they that tied the pain of his flesh to the anguish that assailed his mind.


    He prayed to Vella, goddess of war, Krebb, god of cylinders, and Altea, goddess of truth, before speaking the longest dedication of the day. His final words were made in worship of none other than the goddess of ears. He did not know her name¡ªno one did¡ªand she had refused to answer his call, but he knew from the very core of his being that he was not mistaken in his label. Her beauty was of the sort that could not be crafted by mortal hands, ethereal and eternal, subtle and obvious, sensual and innocent all in one.


    To her, he prayed not only for his own sake, but also that of his employer. Marleena Ortona, the woman that he served, had ears so small that no other centaur, subspecies or otherwise, could possibly find her attractive. He begged the beautiful goddess to bless his companion and provide to her the power to grow them, even if just a little, so that she might finally find herself a husband within the bounds of her race.


    It was only after he recited the solemn invocation three times that he removed the blades from his ankles and returned them to their sheathes before bandaging his feet. There was no need to clean either ritual blade; both were completely devoid of blood, even though it was happily leaking from his legs. The gods had taken every last drop, an offering to prove his dedication to reform and repentance.


    ¡°Good morning.¡±


    He took a deep breath before tracing the voice to its source. In his bed, he found a girl covered from head to toe in pure white fur poking out from beneath the sheets, her large eyes blinking and her face flushed pink. Even through the layer of fabric, he could tell that her wings were fluttering as quickly as her heart was beating. The same sight that awaited him each time he wrapped up his morning routine.


    ¡°Morning,¡± he said, with a soft smile.


    The moth latched onto his torso as soon as he greeted her, nuzzling her cheeks against his exposed abs before slowly floating up to eye level and pecking him on the cheek. She retreated before he could respond in kind, darting back under the covers and hiding her visage in one of the ten-odd pillows that adorned their shared space.


    Though her presence suggested that the pair had spent the night together, they had done little beyond sharing the same bed. They were still in the earlier stages of their relationship, and as a former noble lady, Lova insisted on remaining pure until they committed to tying the knot.


    Carter didn¡¯t mind. Even if they had wanted to do the deed, it would have been difficult for them to find the time. Their biorhythms were perfectly opposed; as a nocturnal Kryddarian, Lova slept only while the centaur was off at work and vice versa. Sharing their meals was just as difficult, and their interactions were infrequent outside their room. Still, the moth girl had insisted on pursuing a relationship, and Carter had not been able to bring himself to reject her advances.


    He could not deny that he had been reluctant on account of her race. Like every other centaurian male, his interest lay first and foremost in a woman¡¯s ears, of which the moth had none. Her other traits were equally as off-putting; her eyes had countless pupils within them, her wings were much shorter and wider than those of a horse, and her values differed starkly from those that he knew. Her face was all that drove his attraction at first, and even then, it was only if her eyes were closed. Over the past few weeks, however, he had found his tastes changing; the moth girl¡¯s foreign features grew on him, becoming not strange, but exotic and endearing.


    That, however, was not to say that he had abandoned the way of the ear. If anything, her lack only grew his interest. He planned to ask the goddess to bless the moth with a pair as soon as she worked her magic on Marleena.


    It was with those somewhat rude thoughts that he left the room, hand in hand with the lady that had prompted them. Together, whilst chattering about the girl¡¯s previous shift, they greeted the inn¡¯s owner and headed into the attached tavern. Carter was given a breakfast menu, while his partner had one more suited to dinner. It was already their tenth day in town, and the staff had long grown accustomed to their eccentric behaviours.


    The group had decided, upon leaving the library, that they would head to the south. The north would never have welcomed them; Lova had no place in Kryddar given her family¡¯s ruin, and Carter was a wanted criminal in Cadria. Heading westward was just as impossible; hate for centaurs was widespread among those that dwelled in the golden plains, and as such, Marleena¡¯s father had never expanded their business in that direction. The east might have been a valid destination had more of their party¡¯s members been aquatic, but Grell was the only one that truly functioned beneath the waves. Thus, by process of elimination, they headed away from the Lanngbjerns and into the great forest.


    They had started their journey in a land called Rjodin, a small country four borders south of the centaurian homeland. Known for welcoming people of all races with open arms, the mercantile kingdom was a prosperous center for trade and fresh ideas. There, they found not only freedom from a certain former serial killer¡¯s warrants, but also a key branch of Marleena¡¯s family business. Her parents were still in jail for harbouring criminals and obstructing the law, but one of her cousins had taken over in the meantime and grown the business down the coast. It spanned a dozen sovereign nations post expansion, stretching all the way from Cadria to Primrose¡¯s holy land.


    Marleena, who most of the family had presumed dead, following her mysterious disappearance, was welcomed home with open arms. She quickly reprised her role as an outreach ambassador, and in less than a week, was back to introducing Cadrian goods to locals abroad. Likewise, Carter had also picked up exactly where he had left off. Once again, he was made her guard and tasked with keeping her from making dealings with merchants he judged too shady. The other Llystletein escapees had wanted to stake their claim as craftsmen, but because they were still unskilled, they were taken on as guards instead. Whether they truly qualified was up in the air, but Marleena had insisted, and her cousins had seen no reason to deny the claim after they had gotten her home safe and sound.


    Though many were reluctant to see her go again, the mare was eventually allowed to do her job. She set out not only with the friends with which she had escaped the library, but a much more skilled group, handpicked by the business¡¯ temporary owner as well. Together, they peddled luxury Cadrian goods up and down the coast.


    Born from the visitations were a number of connections, one of which had eagerly summoned the party to the beautiful trade city of Vel¡¯khagan. The half Ryllian, half Tal¡¯ihirian capital was a prime location for economic development. Its harbours and land routes alike provided the means to enable traders from all over, but matters of governance had crippled its growth. The hostile foreign policies and heavy taxes had dissuaded the many merchants, the Ortona Company included, from exploring the opportunities within. Marleena, however, saw no reason to refrain. The people were wealthy in spite of the faulty statesmen and their eyes were keen for business. Evidence of their entrepreneurial spirit could easily be seen through the persuasive letters delivered straight to their inn of residence.


    The most notable was a formal greeting penned by Miss Olga Popov, proprietress of the renowned Silkroad Trading Company. She had proposed a meeting, so they could discuss large volume trades, and it was precisely to make said meeting she requested that Carter hurried his way through breakfast.


    After bidding farewell to his lover, who was only halfway through her first course, he bolted from the table, grabbed his equipment, and reported for duty. He was already late; he had been asked to rally at first light, but the sky had already started losing its orange hue by the time he awoke.


    Surely enough, everyone else was ready and waiting. The other guards, namely Grell, Fionn, and Jake, were standing by the wagon with their weapons at the ready. His coworkers seemed not to care for his tardiness, but the mistress was practically fuming. Still, even with her teeth grinding and her face red enough to boil, she stayed perfectly silent. The day was young; there were only a few oddballs and early risers out and about. Screaming at him, like she had back in the Llystletein days, would attract unwanted attention and perhaps even undermine the Ortona company¡¯s reputation.


    That was why she silently climbed aboard the turberus-drawn carriage as soon as he exited the building, neither bidding him good morning or waiting for him to board before signalling the driver to move. It was a rather petty move, but not one that left him particularly inconvenienced. He caught up with a light jog and hopped into the cart with a thunk.


    ¡°Late again, eh? Guessing the little lady wouldn¡¯t let you leave?¡± Fionn, a centaurian hillrunner that looked to be in his early twenties, spoke as he slapped the fatter guard¡¯s shoulder. There was a wide grin on his bearded face, spanning all the way from one ear to the other.


    ¡°Don¡¯t pin it on Lova. It¡¯s his fault, not hers,¡± Marleena interjected before Carter could answer, her tongue as sharp and bitter as ever.


    ¡°I woke up a little late,¡± said the plainsrunner, with a tired smile. ¡°I was up late again, thanks to the usual business.¡±


    ¡°The usual business? You mean that weird thing you¡¯ve been doing with the trinkets, yeah?¡± The younger guard made a carving motion with his hands. He didn¡¯t have a knife, or a block of wood for that matter, but he surely would have splintered it if he did.


    ¡°They¡¯re not trinkets, they¡¯re charms.¡± Carter reached into his bag and retrieved a small ball with two massive triangles jutting its sides. His handiwork was crude, but it conveyed to those familiar with his teachings the precise image that he had in mind.


    ¡°Same thing,¡± said Fionn, with a chuckle. ¡°It¡¯s not like they have any power in ¡®em either way.¡±


    ¡°Not yet.¡±


    ¡°Maybe not ever either, eh?¡± Again, the leaner guard met his coworker with a slap on the shoulder. ¡°I know you keep saying it, but there ain¡¯t no way anyone¡¯s gonna have ears that huge. Them¡¯s gotta be wings or something instead.¡±


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    ¡°They were ears,¡± insisted Carter. ¡°Trust me, if you were there, you¡¯d know.¡±


    ¡°Sure, mate, if you say so.¡± The man cackled as he smacked his buddy again. The third attack was a little harder than its predecessors, containing just enough force to dislodge Carter¡¯s helmet and send it tumbling.


    When the plainsrunner reached forward to grab it, he caught a faint glint out of the corner of his eye, one just bright enough to seem unnatural in the jungle of glass and stone. There was no time to draw his glaive, but he was able to lift his head protector and intercept the arrow right before it pierced him. The bolt flew with such force that it knocked him down regardless, nearly sending him off the wagon and onto the brick-paved road.


    ¡°Get down! We¡¯re under attack!¡±


    Fionn shouted to the mistress as he sprang to his feet and raised a large metal shield in. The circular implement was made from solid iron, but even its two-inch defenses struggled to stop the jagged missiles from piercing the flesh of his arm.


    Grell, the resident jellyfish, rose from his seat and returned fire, but his attacks were nowhere near as effective. His slow-moving blasts were outright destroyed by the wooden arrows. One such projectile went on to break his shield and pierce him through the dome, an injury that was fortunately not as deadly as it looked.


    Though not under any pressure to show themselves, the attackers stepped out from behind the buildings with arrows still nocked to their bows. Their faces were difficult to see with the hoods obscuring their figures, but it was clear at a glance that the force was made up of mermaids.


    One particularly large individual inched forward, her tail carrying her surprisingly well on land. ¡°Deal with Olga Popov, and you will die. We will not warn you again.¡± She spoke in a shrill voice that echoed deeply into the centaur¡¯s mind. Her intonation almost struck him as melodic, but at the same time, it was wrong, lacking the regular meter that he expected Marish words to have.


    The group dispersed as soon as the declaration was made, vanishing back into the shadows as quickly as it had emerged.


    ¡°Of course. It¡¯s always the rival businesses,¡± Marleena breathed a sigh before glaring at the dazed centaur pushing himself off the floor. ¡°What are you doing, you lazy oaf? Get off your ass and go after them!¡±


    ¡°R-right.¡± Carter pulled the arrow from his bascinet and planted the helmet back on his head before giving chase.


    Fionn joined him in the pursuit, leaving their other two companions to stand guard over the mistress. Carter would have preferred to stay behind¡ªit was more difficult for the satellite party to avoid a violent confrontation¡ªbut their formation had remained the same throughout their journey. While certainly tempted to think that Marleena simply wished to harass him, he understood that it was the most effective. He was the only one of the bunch that had a tracking skill, dysfunctional and catgirl-based as it was.


    Said skill, however, was unable to help him within the urban jungle. He was lost by the time he made the second turn. The city¡¯s layout was confusing, and the enemy¡¯s abilities to use the watered paths afforded them much greater mobility than the land-locked horse-man.


    ¡°Any ideas?¡± The question was met with a shake of the head.


    ¡°None. I lost them before you did,¡± said the hillrunner.


    Carter adjusted his helmet with a grimace. ¡°Do you have any idea who it might have been, at least? Marleena¡¯s sure to chew us out if we head back empty handed.¡±


    ¡°Think the one run by mermaids was supposed to be the Ingrid Company, but I wouldn¡¯t take that as is. Might be someone else trying to throw us off their scent.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± The larger stallion stroked the handle of his glaive as he looked around the unfamiliar city. ¡°I doubt they would be able to convince skilled fighters to betray their own kind so easily.¡±


    ¡°Mate, that¡¯s what we call underestimating the power of mone¡ª¡± He stopped in the middle of his sentence, eyes opening wide as he slowly took half a step back. ¡°The fuck!?¡±


    When Carter followed the other man¡¯s gaze, he found his eyes upon a series of floating wooden pieces. The handmade relics were not meant to have any power¡ªhe had no idea how to bless them with the goddess¡¯ might¡ª but there they were, hovering with a will of their own. They laid themselves out in the air, forming an arrow a few feet in front of him. It took a moment for his mind to catch up, but a boyish grin blossomed upon his face when it did.


    ¡°It¡¯s the goddess!¡± He clasped his shaking hands together and fell to his knees. ¡°The goddess of ears smiles upon us with her guidance! Thank you, great goddess! I knew that you had not forsaken me!¡±


    While one of the two centaurs was clearly elated, the other looked on with a confused frown. ¡°Wait, you serious? You better not be trying to pull one over me with some weird trick or something.¡±


    He walked over to the arrow and waved his hands above and below, but there were no strings. When he tried touching it directly, he found himself gently pushed away. There was no pressure on any particular part of his body; it was like the world had decided he was to slide three meters to the right. Fionn couldn¡¯t believe it. He saw and felt it, experienced it for himself, but the warrior refused to see reality for what it was.


    Surely, he reasoned, it was just a prank played by some sort of spirit. He had heard that they were invisible and incorporeal, but able to manifest their wills upon the world. There was only one problem. Spirits were supposed to be small and weak, too frail to push a man of his size and weight. It had to be the goddess. She had to be real.


    ¡°There¡¯s no way...¡± Dismissing the possibility with a shake of the head, he readied his weapons and chased after his companion, who had blindly followed the floating shape without confirming its driving force.


    The arrow moved alongside the pious plainswalker, showing him the way as they followed the alleys and streets. It rearranged itself into an open hand after roughly a dozen turns, waiting for him to stop before pointing one of its fingers at one of the many buildings on the other side of the road. And then, having fulfilled its duty, the shape suddenly lost its power. The wooden-blocks fell onto the ground, clattering into a lifeless heap.


    Thanking the goddess again in his heart and gathering her holy relics, Carter cast his eyes on the building she had marked. Though located outside the city¡¯s commercial district, it bore one of the most beautiful facades he had seen to date. The primary material used in its construction was stained glass; its exterior was a veritable work of art with real corals and grasses laid over their drawn counterparts, both inside the building and out. The ocean meadow that it painted failed to fit with the surrounding landscape, but that was precisely why it held his attention.


    ¡°That¡¯s the Ingrid Company¡¯s HQ,¡± said Fionn, with a grimace.


    Carter mirrored the other man¡¯s expression. ¡°Marleena isn¡¯t going to be happy about this.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯ll be even less happy if we don¡¯t get them back in one way or another, but I doubt that¡¯s happening. You see the chick standing outside?¡± The one guard situated by the door was of the same heritage as the archers that had assailed them. But unlike the others, she had scales of different colours, red, greens, pinks, and blues were all present in both primaries and pastels. ¡°Pretty sure that pattern on her tail means she¡¯s a bluscht, thrice ascended. Probably the Ingrids¡¯ champion in the flesh.¡±


    ¡°Thrice?¡± The plainsrunner opened his eyes wide.


    ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s bad news.¡± Fionn holstered his axes. ¡°We should head back. We don¡¯t stand a chance without Ignius.¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± His partner grabbed his arm before he could flee. ¡°The goddess wouldn¡¯t have shown us here just so we could be killed. There has to be another solution.¡± His eyes glinted and his hands shook. ¡°Maybe we¡¯ve a chance at talking it out.¡±


    ¡°There you go with that weak ass pacifist shit again.¡± The hillrunner brought a hand to the bridge of his nose. ¡°You¡¯re a proper Cadrian, goddammit. How about acting like one?¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± said Carter. ¡°We seek victory, not battle.¡±


    ¡°Where the hell did you pull that nonsense from?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a quote. Duke Augustus said it himself.¡±


    ¡°Bah, that¡¯s bullshit. Come on, man, you¡¯re supposed to say that imaginary goddess of yours thinks we¡¯ve got a chance at beating her.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but I doubt it.¡± He knew that some of the others had called her the goddess of recklessness, but he saw no reason to believe their claims. ¡°She didn¡¯t seem like the belligerent type.¡±


    ¡°How ¡®bout, you do another one of them prayers and find out?¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± The moderately overweight stallion twisted his lips into a brief frown before sitting down on the ground and clasping his hands in his lap.


    ¡°That was supposed to be a joke,¡± said Fionn, with an awkward scratch of the head.


    His remark should have been loud enough for the other man to hear it, but Carter failed to respond. He spoke instead to another, the one watching over their plight. ¡°Great goddess of ears, ruler of beauty, and avatar of transient and eternal in kind. I beg that you guide this foolish mortal in his time of need. I lack the intellect to decipher your intentions, and wish to know how you intend to see this situation resolved.¡±


    Fionn moved to shake his head as he listened to all the extraneous praise, but strangely, found the motion impossible. He couldn¡¯t move his neck, or anything else for that matter. It was almost like something, or perhaps someone, was holding his whole body in place.


    ¡°Do I really have to do everything myself?¡±


    That was when he heard her voice. Its tone was harsh, annoyed and fed up even, but its quality was soft and gentle as a warm spring breeze. The combination was unworldly; it tickled his ears in a pleasant way he had never even dreamed.


    Had his heart not been frozen, it surely would have raced in anticipation as he felt her draw closer. Step by step, the distance shrank.


    And then, after what felt like an eternity, she finally entered his field of view.


    His first impression was one of colours. She had a head of silvery blue hair, its length extending halfway down her back. The very same hues could be seen all over her body. Small scales covered bits and pieces of her skin, and an incredibly long tail, too long and thin to be that of a lizard¡¯s, extended from her hips. Her body was covered in a dark armour that could not have possibly been forged by mortal hands. It lacked the seams; there were no gaps between any of the plates, and the material seemed to grow and shrink with her movements. From her chest, a strange horn made of a translucent material. Its main colour was purple, with bits of blues, reds, golds, and blacks raging within, fighting for dominance.


    A fearsome aura radiated off of her body. It was one of absolute power and domination, the very same overbearing energy he felt whenever he stepped before Vella¡¯s altars.


    And then, there were her ears. Long and shapely, they could not have been anything but centaurian. But they were two or three times larger than even the most obscene.


    For a moment, she looked at him, her slit eyes cold as ice. And from that alone, the warrior knew.


    In her eyes, he was a slug.


    No matter how hard he fought, how many levels he accrued, he was nothing, nothing but an insignificant mollusc before the truly divine.


    Though he couldn¡¯t control them, his eyes remained fixed on her as she exited the alley and walked out onto the street. He realised, as she crossed it, that he was not the only one seemingly frozen in time. The few citizens walking the streets were unmoving, and so too was the guard.


    The mermaid perished when the goddess passed her. Her body twisted and turned, warping in all different ways before it was torn to a thousand pieces, ripped to shreds like a piece of paper. It was like the divine had decided that she was not allowed to exist and erased her very being from the world. The very same fate soon befell the rest of the building¡¯s residents.


    One by one, they died. Torn to bloody pieces by an almighty, invisible hand.


    As he watched the slaughter¡ªthe culling of the unfaithful¡ªFionn steeled his heart and admitted his fault.


    Carter was right.


    The goddess of ears was real.


    And together, they would spread word of her gospel.

 Chapter 227 - Through the Looking Glass IV

    Chapter 227 - Through the Looking Glass IV


    The vampire queen gazed lazily upon the city as she awaited a cup of warm blood. It was a familiar scene. The decorations going up around the city were as regular as the winter itself. With the festive mood in the air, there came a strange shift in the city¡¯s demographic. The increase in the number of humans was to be expected. Being in heat all year round, they flocked to the seaside whenever the spawning season reared its head. It was a behaviour that often led not only to an increase in the number of halfbreeds, but the creation of new species as well. Centaurs, satyrs, and minotaurs could all trace their roots back to humans and their partners.


    Two such examples walked by the window right as the thought came to mind, one that looked almost entirely human, with a few catlike features, and another that seemed to have stemmed from some sort of involvement with a reptile. The pair was transporting the body of a towering, mudfish-like monster, likely something they had caught while out at sea, with the feline asking for those in their path to make way.


    Naturally, it was impossible for the queen to see such a sight from her place in the palace. She was seated not upon her throne, but within a small restaurant in the middle of the shopping district. It was in no official capacity that she visited. The servers hadn¡¯t the slightest clue that their monarch was among them, and she had made sure that there was nothing to give her away. She was dressed in cheap linens, her guards were nonpresent, and while not overly abundant, her species was common enough to be overlooked.


    Perhaps precisely because she was so unassuming, she found herself forgotten by the servers. The warm drink she had requested some twenty minutes prior had yet to arrive, a test of patience to say the least. But the bloodsucker refused to complain. If anything, she enjoyed the lackluster service. To be forgotten by the city was to live as she did in days past, before she had even dreamt of seizing the throne.


    It was precisely by comparing the past and present that she found satisfaction in her handiwork. Vel¡¯khan was no longer a religious state. Gone were the days where it was driven by nonsensical principles practiced only to procure divine favour. They were gone and forgotten, just like the restrictions on the gods that could and couldn¡¯t be worshiped. Of course, not everything was perfect. The divine cliff, for example, still contained references only to the deities that had been acknowledged by her precursors, but change was sure to come. It took only twelve years for the average citizen to spawn a new generation, and most were still in their rebellious phases by the time they first sought to seed the seas.


    Those that were her age or older were still present in droves and held firmly to their beliefs, but the national zeitgeist drove their successors to derive rules from more modern principles. It was a time of change and romance, an age where old masterpieces were defaced in the name of a shift towards mindfulness and good stewardship. Waves of change that some shepherded as salvation. And that others refused to acknowledge. And it was precisely that latter group that was seeking to off her head. She knew of its existence, and even its more notable members as well. But there was nothing more she could do. The monarch had already cast her die. All that was left was to wait for the results to show.


    One might suspect that it was unwise for her to be out and about with a rebellion brewing on the horizon, but the queen was not concerned with her safety. She was but one cog in the wheel. Even in the case of an assassination, she was confident that her policies would persist, lest the country find itself conducting something as absurd as an outright purge. That wasn¡¯t to say that she was looking to die, of course. She would not have left the castle on her own had she been concerned with matters of safety. But the reality of the situation was that such concerns were entirely unnecessary. It was with her very own teeth that she had brought an end to the last monarch¡¯s reign. She was confident that she would emerge unscathed even if trapped in a whole senate of knives. Assuming that they could even pick her out from others of her species.


    The resilience wrought by her racial identity was certainly a boon, but not all her sensory organs functioned the same way as everything else¡¯s. Perhaps for that reason, Queen Priscilla found it difficult to differentiate between those with only humanoid features. Alas, there was no need. The imperial bloodkraken locked in the castle¡¯s dungeons were treated not as individuals, but livestock. There was no need to know the face of each heifer, cow, and calf, let alone differentiate between specimens of the same breed.


    To keep the royal blood flowing was no doubt a risk, but an extermination was to nobody¡¯s benefit. The giant squids were too useful to simply discard. Their inky milk was nutritious enough for a single cup to nurse a sickly man back to health, and their hearts could be crushed to make miracle drugs that could fix all but curses and death. It was unclear if this ability stemmed from the moon goddess¡¯ blessing, or if the night mother had chosen their species precisely because of their properties. Either way, in an absurd twist of fate, the squids themselves were easily crippled by malediction. The healing properties of their flesh and fluid could only be passed onto others, not used for their own gain.


    Equally as absurd was the state of their kingdom. They had lorded over it with a ruthless, iron fist under the guise of following their goddess¡¯ guidance. It was not an approach without merit¡ªVel¡¯khan prospered under their rule and blossomed from a single city state into a kingdom that spanned over a dozen strongholds¡ªbut neither was it without its flaws, for it was the goddess¡¯ strict belief that only those who worked deserved to eat.


    It was that philosophy that the vampire queen despised. And how could she not, with the madness that plagued her bloodline? Too many of hers were discarded for their inability to further the rock¡¯s great plan. Under Priscilla¡¯s rule, it was only those too proud to accept charity that went hungry. Not all the residents were happy with the changes she made; she had hiked taxes for the well-to-do, especially wealthy noble estates, in order to fund programs to assign value to those that otherwise had none.


    She recognised that her choices had led to an immense uptick in crime, as well as further isolation of the upper classes. Still, they were just. She was just.


    That was why she had been allowed to pry the kingdom from the royal family¡¯s hands.


    Even without a god at her back.


    ___


    A man with a scruffy beard and a disheveled head of hair sat alone in a dark room. The only light that he had on was that of the display in front of him, a sparkling OLED TV with a screen so bright that it lit the lounge like a torch; the extremely pixelated lava chambers dyed everything from the leather couch to his PC in a deep shade of red. The glowing metal box was hooked up to a shiny new game console, which was in turn connected to the fight sticks and controllers in the seat beside him. It was the type of setup that came with a thousand wires, guaranteed to be tangled the moment he accidentally put anything in the wrong place.


    A more sensible person in his situation surely would have opted to connect the controllers wirelessly instead, but the man was strictly against them. He had always found the airborne signals unreliable; the milliseconds that they lost were far too valuable when it came down to the wire. To provide himself the best street-fighting and block-stacking experiences, he would need a direct connection, both from controller to console, and console to the net¡ªnot that he had anyone to compete against, or even the ability to go online for that matter.


    That was the worst part about being stuck in limbo. Claire was one of the few he could play against, and she was still just a novice, barely any better than the level 9 AI.


    He grabbed the remote and switched the channel when the ascended lyrkress crossed his mind. The television was happy to respond. The magmatic cubes that had covered the screen were immediately replaced by the scene of a bloody massacre, and when he pressed the full immersion button, the change was applied to the rest of the world around him. Everywhere he looked, he saw the sea, the underwater city that Claire was in the midst of exploring. That was not to say that he had left his room. The scruffy man was still seated on the couch with one hand on the remote and the other scratching his equally scruffy balls. If he walked too far, he would run into the wall, or maybe even the TV if he was careless.


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    That particular mistake, he had only made once. And while he had certainly catapulted face first into the wall and broken his nonexistent nose, he was not of the mind that it was his fault. Flux was the one that had failed to specify his boundaries and limitations.


    He smiled as he considered the possibility that his beloved goddess was watching the very same scene. Knowing her, it would be with bated breath that she observed, for Claire had challenged a foe that any sane fighter would have opted to avoid.


    But even if Flux was present, looking over his shoulder, she was certainly not the most shocked party involved. That title belonged instead to the leviathan that suddenly found itself under attack. Those that ventured into the Swirling Abyss would typically leave without considering its final encounter, but the reckless moose had immediately charged the two-headed fortress as soon as the opportunity arose. Without resting, and still injured from her encounter with the phantom legion, she had launched herself straight through the water and into the turtle-snake¡¯s face with a sky-shattering blow.


    Three seconds into the fight, she called upon the intersection of his powers and her own. So he pulled out one of his puppets¡ªnamely the poorly-made horse¡ªand threw it into the fray. He manipulated it with the remote control plugged into its back, moving it around as he acted out its ridiculous personality. Unfortunately, he was dismissed after absorbing a pair of spells, but alas, such was the pony¡¯s lot in life. It was his fault for coming up with such a ridiculous character, even if Claire had given him exactly the reaction he¡¯d hoped.


    Headhydra was called upon next, so he reached into the dimension next door and retrieved the sulky lizard¡¯s spirit. She played along reluctantly when handed the controls, moving along to the will of her killer.


    Though Farenlight behaved the way that she did, the man knew that she suffered not nearly as much as she let on. Her outward facade was one of defiance, but in her heart, she respected the creature that had bested her, especially after laying eyes on the halfbreed¡¯s far inferior status. Of course, she would never admit it, especially not to the man sitting beside her, but he understood. Because they existed in the same shared space, because they lay dormant within the same vessel, each could easily see into the heart of the other.


    While the hydra played pilot, the ghost looked carefully at the fight and watched over the lyrkress¡¯ motions. He was particularly overjoyed when she suddenly and seamlessly went from backflipping over one of the leviathan¡¯s attacks to bashing her lizard into its skull. It was a smooth but impossible motion, one that could only be performed if the laws of physics were to be ignored. Officially, it was just another application of force magic, specifically one derived from the nulling of momentum, but he knew it instead as a real-life animation cancel. The concept was absurd at best, but so too was force magic as a whole. Its very presence stood in blatant defiance of the third law.


    He had been pleasantly surprised when Claire had developed the ability. Perhaps due to his influence, or perhaps because Flux had used so much of her own stardust in her making, the girl¡¯s affinity for it was surprising. Her refusal to learn Newton¡¯s teachings had only bolstered her ability to ignore them, and it was precisely that trait that had allowed him to imprint upon her a motion as ridiculous as springing into the air in the middle of a roll.


    But even with her unnatural movements, the leviathan was able to keep up. Its body moved nearly twice as fast as hers, and it was much better in the water, but still, four ars magnae and three hundred points of divinity later, the beast fell. It roared one last time, as if to curse the intruder, and collapsed into a lifeless heap.


    Likewise, the scruffy man fell over as well. He rested his head against the hydra on his couch and slowly closed his eyes. He had started to feel rather exhausted as of late, and the sensation only strengthened each time the half-dragon grew.


    At the current rate, it would not be long, only a few hundred more levels before the inevitable was upon him.


    He did not fear the end, nor did he resent it. Such was the fate of those that lived on in death. But he would not go without first seeing his last duties through and bestowing all the knowledge that he had failed to act upon.


    ___


    Kal¡¯syr of Avande¡¯arr looked up from the book in her lap as her large ears caught wind of a disturbance. The tree-pigs that inhabited her island were squealing in panic, running about as they fled from the guests that had landed on the beach. From what she could tell, there were five of them, all voices whose names she knew.


    She considered closing her book, getting off her chair, and greeting the guests as she had the last few times they came, but beneath the evening sun, she found herself just a little too weary. She closed her eyes instead, leaning back into the soft, cushioned seat whilst setting her reading material down on the table by her side.


    Tired or not, the old lady had every intention of entertaining her visitors. It was meant to be a moment of respite, a minute at most, but when she next opened her eyes, she found that she was lying in bed, dressed in her pajamas with the covers up to her shoulders. For a moment, she thought the visitation a dream, but a quick glance at her bedside confirmed its occurrence.


    The novel she had been reading had been placed atop her dresser, right beside a letter marked with an unfamiliar seal. Opening it, she found a slew of pretentious words written in the most pompous Marish she had seen in decades, a full two-page document many times longer than the message it was meant to convey. Still, she read it carefully, word by word. The young lady¡¯s voice rang through her head as she did and slowly grew her smile until it spanned her face. She enjoyed imagining the events that its writer had laid out for her¡ªboth the adventures and the everyday encounters¡ªfor it was only vicariously that she could experience them again.


    It was not just her old, creaky bones that stopped her, but her hunters as well. Like all of Avande¡¯arr¡¯s key figures, she was marked for death. The kelpies blessed by Kael¡¯ahruus would know as soon as she stepped foot outside the dungeon. They would track her and give chase, unrelenting until either she or they lay dead.


    Her fate was identical to that of every other Avande¡¯arrian official. All of them had been included in the imposters¡¯ pledge, and most had already fallen. Even their champions had lost to the lion¡¯s fangs. That was why the goddess of the flow had sheltered them. So that their people would not meet the same fate as hers.


    Alas, even with the goddess¡¯ sympathies, there was no stopping the inevitable.


    Unless there were more like Claire, who had naturally arisen as one of her species, or unless one of the others had a child secretly hidden away, it would only be a matter of time.


    But while she had feared the eventuality at first, Kal¡¯syr had grown over time to accept it, embrace it even. The extinction of her species was but another point in the cycle, a singular node in the infinite flow. Life would still go on, and one day, perhaps soon, or perhaps in the distant future, their will would undoubtedly be carried. Of course, that was not to say that the old lyrkress would be kicking the bucket anytime soon. She was confident she had another hundred years, maybe even two or three if she was lucky.


    Whatever the case, the old lady hopped out of bed with a surprisingly youthful energy and headed straight into the dining room. The letter had mentioned that they left her a meal that would be easy on her body, and she was more than keen on seeing its contents. Last she checked, Claire was anything but a cook; she had so little talent for the art of cuisine that she had failed to develop any meaningful skill after half a dozen sessions. Of course, her reluctant attitude and her countless naps did little to aid in the effort, but the old priestess had at least expected her to learn something.


    When she walked over to the dining table, she found the entire construct shrouded in a large bubble with a wispy, translucent fox sitting on top of it. When it noticed her, the creature waved, clapped its paws, and vanished alongside the spherical veil.


    ¡°How is any of this supposed to be ¡®easy on my body?¡¯¡±


    She had expected porridge or gruel, something simple enough for even the anti-chef to make, but the entire dining room table was covered in meat. Meat, plates, and tiny side dishes that were barely visible next to the towering mountains of cooked flesh.


    There was even another piece of paper sitting atop the highest pile, with ¡°P.S. I didn¡¯t make any of this,¡± written in a string of obnoxiously large letters.


    Kal¡¯syr pressed a hand to her face as she tried to read her own expression. She wasn¡¯t sure how she felt, or even how she was meant to feel. On one hand, she had hoped for one of the younger lyrkress¡¯ homemade creations, but on the other, she was relieved to have been given something edible instead. During their last lesson, Claire had somehow managed to transform a beautiful fresh fish, extracted and butchered just a few minutes prior, into a lump of coal. And that was with the older lady quite literally watching over her shoulder and guiding her through the process.


    When she recalled the memory, Kal¡¯syr laughed. It was a quiet chuckle at first, but its volume grew as she grabbed one of the dishes and walked out onto the porch. The outcome was so absurd that she was tempted to think it the work of one god or other, but as a priestess, understood that there was no such party involved.


    Still cackling, she looked up at the morning sun, took a small bite, and smiled.


    The meat loaf may not have been home made, but it was certainly delicious.

 Chapter 228 - Horses, Goats, and Basements

    Chapter 228 - Horses, Goats, and Basements


    Streams of blood scattered across the forest, staining its muddy trees with thick, crimson lines. Each splotch was accompanied by the roar of a beast, a howl loud enough to shake the dried, brown leaves free of their branches. With ears sensitive enough to hear ten miles away, Claire should have been reeling over in pain, but the qiligon was unbothered.


    She ignored the flightless bird¡¯s cries and swung her weapon over and over, biting away at its armour and blood. Boris, her iguana-turned-blade, pierced the rocky features with ease. With every slash, he cut several feet into the monster¡¯s flesh, and yet, it continued to struggle, flailing about with its razor-sharp beak. It fought and screamed for the better part of a minute, but ultimately fell as the lizard grew to ten times his usual size and ran it all the way through.


    Claire did not let up when her feathered foe collapsed. It was too durable for that. She delivered a chain of brutal blows to its head, stopping only as the goddess of the flow spoke the magic words in the back of her mind.


    Log Entry 34927


    You have defeated a level 618 Droudrish Bloodlord.


    It was an incredibly resilient beast. Its spirit stat was so high that it was completely unaffected by any of her magic. And while certainly not nearly as exaggerated, its physical defenses were nothing to scoff at. Its skin was covered in a wall of stone, the sheer volume of which dulled the power behind her attacks; it had taken a full fifty strikes to finally smash through its skull.


    ¡°Your turn.¡± The halfbreed turned to one of her companions as she flicked the blood off her lizard¡ªwho had already returned to his usual almost organic form¡ªand holstered him on her back.


    ¡°Was that three already? I wasn¡¯t keeping count.¡± Natalya Vernelle, or Lia as she was commonly known, smiled awkwardly whilst looking up from her magical notebook. She had her quill in her other hand, scribbling something or other even though there was little to note.


    ¡°Five.¡±


    ¡°Five!?¡± The humanoid feline fluttered the lids that covered her bright green eyes, just in time for her glasses to slip halfway down her face. ¡°Has it really been that long already?¡± Her long, thin tail, which was coloured the same way as her orange-brown hair, flickered to and fro as she looked around the arena.


    ¡°Mhm! She¡¯s been going at it since you fell asleep ¡®n stuff.¡± The fox sitting beside the catgirl got up onto her hind legs and stretched her back as far as it could go. Only after stifling a yawn did she fall back on all fours and shake the sleep out of her system.


    ¡°O-oh. I didn¡¯t even realise I fell asleep,¡± she muttered. ¡°We¡¯ve been at this for far too long.¡±


    ¡°We have.¡± Their party¡¯s backliner, a witch with an absurdly long head of raven-black hair, joined the conversation after fighting back a yawn of her own. ¡°Perhaps we¡¯d best move on. These droudrishes are no longer providing the experience they once did.¡± The moon-shaped accessory on her large pointed hat jingled as she rose from her seat. It always looked like it was on the verge of falling off, but the golden, ruby-crested arch never truly left its spot.


    ¡°Oh, oh, oh! I like that idea!¡± said the fox. ¡°I¡¯m already super bored of this place. I can¡¯t believe you guys decided to sit down and grind this of all things.¡±


    ¡°The math says that it¡¯s the most efficient,¡± said Lia. She returned her book to the clip on her belt and rose to her feet. ¡°But you¡¯re right. We should probably get out of here before we bore ourselves to death.¡±


    ¡°Ughhh, who cares about the math? This place sucks!¡±


    ¡°We should have stuck to the leviathan,¡± grumbled Claire.


    ¡°Ew, no way! I meant it when I said this place sucks, but at least these birds are kinda tasty! That dumb turtle thing is gross as heck!¡± The orange furball stood up on her hind legs again and made an X with her front paws.


    ¡°I found it rather delectable,¡± said the witch. ¡°It certainly was on the sour side, but I found the acidity rather refreshing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shut up Ciel! That¡¯s just ¡®cause you think everything¡¯s tasty!¡±


    ¡°I most certainly do not.¡±


    ¡°Yes you do, liar!¡±


    ¡°It is not a lie, merely a statement of fact. I enjoy only that which is cooked in high-quality blood.¡±


    As a whole, the conversation was grossly inappropriate. They were on the bottom floor of an incredibly hostile, unknown dungeon revealed by the goddess of the moon. Letting down one¡¯s guard in such an environment was a fool¡¯s choice at best, and a death sentence at worst, but none of the group¡¯s members appeared to care. They were so much stronger than the boss that they had taken to challenging it to a series of one-on-ones; each member of the party was allowed to kill it three times before the next would step in and take her place. With Sylvia not participating and a respawn time of roughly thirty minutes, it meant that each could rest for roughly four hours after every session.


    Matthias, the final member of their party, had been relegated to sitting at home. The girls¡¯ goal was to grow as much as possible as quickly as possible, and they had decided after some debate that he drained too much of the experience to be worth bringing along. The man in question had objected to the decision, of course, but there was little he could do in the face of a realm-warping fox.


    ¡°That¡¯s just because your tastes are childish as heck!¡±


    ¡°My palate may not be as refined as Claire¡¯s, but it is certainly not childish. There is no shame in relishing the taste of life.¡±


    Boris was the one to have benefited the most from all the killing. He was the highest level in the group¡ªperhaps because he needed the least experience to grow¡ªand was already nearing his third ascension. Everyone else was sitting in the mid four hundreds, with Claire being on the lower end, and Arciel its opposite.


    ¡°Yes there is! That¡¯s just like deciding that you wanna coat everything in ketchup! Come on, you tell her, Claire!¡±


    ¡°There is nothing to be told. She is sure to agree that it is a natural preference.¡±


    Both girls turned towards the ascended lyrkress, eyes glimmering with the expectation that she would take their side. But instead of answering either party¡¯s hopes, she prodded them both in the cheek, one with a finger, and the other with her massive, scale-laden tail.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. Where are we heading next?


    ¡°I had intended on returning to Vel¡¯khagan,¡± said the witch, with a tilt of the head.


    The thoughtless comment was, of course, met with a slightly more violent cheek prod.


    ¡°Stupid squid. I meant after.¡±


    ¡°After?¡±


    ¡°Yes. After. Where¡¯s the next training ground?¡±


    ¡°Ah, so that is what you were asking.¡± Arciel shrank her staff and tucked it into her hair. ¡°There are no further training grounds. The leviathan was our final challenge, and the goddess has remained silent in the wake of its repeated death. I believe that she means to say that we are already prepared for the events to come.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be facing the queen in single combat, and she¡¯s already thrice ascended. I doubt we¡¯re ready.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to say,¡± said Lia, as she adjusted her glasses. ¡°The vampire queen isn¡¯t known for being particularly strong. Everyone seems to think she¡¯s a bit of a weakling, in fact.¡±


    ¡°I believe that evaluation to be false,¡± said Arciel. ¡°The Vel¡¯khanese royal guard may not be the most prestigious or powerful order, but neither is it entirely incompetent. And yet, she single-handedly triumphed over a dozen of its members.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like we need more levels,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Perhaps, perhaps not. I shall inquire with Griselda at a later time,¡± said the moon-worshipper. ¡°For now, I believe it would be better for us to return to the city so that we may enjoy the festivities.¡±


    ¡°Wait, festivities? What festivities?¡± asked Sylvia, as she perked up.


    The scene shifted as she spoke. The trees and shrubs turned to kelps and corals as the air was made into water. Only half the group¡¯s members had any need for air, but all were wrapped in a large, water-proof filter-bubble. The dungeon¡¯s entrance could be seen behind them, a small hole slammed into the side of a particularly large pit. It was still bustling with life; monsters were filing out of it in waves, invading the nearby waters with their hearts burning bright, only to find themselves deceased, destroyed by the lack of oxygen.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Sharks, bluefins, and submarine bears fed on the drowned birds. Local fish fed on their scraps, and the bones that remained fueled the brilliant underwater reef, providing it with just enough energy to shine as it would had it been closer to the sun.


    ¡°Why, the winter festival¡¯s of course,¡± said Arciel. The environmental shift had failed to elicit a reaction, but the fox¡¯s question had her completely taken aback. ¡°Do you not recall the many decorations that the people had begun putting up around the city?¡±


    ¡°Oh, wait! Are you talking about those weird metal trinkets and stuff that everyone was messing around with?¡±


    ¡°Precisely.¡±


    ¡°Winter festivals are supposed to be an international standard,¡± said Lia. ¡°Didn¡¯t you have them back home?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ not really?¡± The fox placed a paw against her chin whilst warping them back to the usual city. ¡°Al didn¡¯t really care too much, and everyone else just kinda took after him.¡±


    ¡°Is that because the dungeon didn¡¯t cycle its seasons the same way?¡± asked Natalya.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so? We never really kept track of the weeks and months and stuff, but summer and fall were pretty much just as long as they were out here.¡±


    The year was neatly organised into eight months, each of which could be split into five weeks that spanned ten days apiece for a total of four-hundred days per annum. The seasons switched whenever the odd-numbered months came to an end, while the solstices occurred on the year¡¯s mid and endpoints. It was a perfectly ordered system, strictly enforced by the cat-eared goddess, her believers, and her disciples.


    But while the days were carefully enumerated by those that cared, the average citizen was not so granular in its tracking. It was fairly obvious when the seasons changed, and churches and temples the world over would announce the solstices whenever they drew close.


    Both were treated as a time for festivities to take place. The summer solstice was the sun goddess¡¯ day of reckoning, a chance for criminals to confess and have their sins lightened before her judgement. Of course, parties were still thrown, and men and women from all walks of life drank themselves silly, but most considered the summer festivities to be the lesser of the two. It was simply by virtue of the timing that the bias was made. There was still much to be done in the transition between the fourth and fifth months; farmers could not simply put down their hoes and allow their fields to waste away, merchants had places to be and wares to pedal, and hunters were too busy maintaining the balance between predator and prey.


    The winter, on the other hand, was a time of natural indolence. The biting winds deprived Mara¡¯s inhabitants of their energy, and the shorter days their time. Despite its seaside location, Vel¡¯khan was no different. It was not as far north as Cadria, but snow had fallen upon the semi-aquatic nation as soon as the seasons had started to shift. With no crops to watch, farmers were left cozied up in their homes, with all the time in the world to work on their crafts and hobbies. Merchants would return to their motherlands with their wallets full of foreign coin, and hunters would be left to retreat into their burrows, exactly as did the creatures chased by their arrows.


    It was precisely because there was so little to do that the citizenry sought entertainment. For two straight weeks, the last in one year and the first in the next, they would celebrate. So merry and careless were the festivities that some would begin drinking the night before they began and awaken from their stupor only three days after they were over.


    Officially, there were only eight holidays spread over the twenty-day period, but as dictated by Vinblunt, god of gluttony, liquor, and joy, any two days that lay between two others of festivities would in turn be observed themselves.


    There was still a bit of time left before the celebrations officially began, but it was clear that Vel¡¯khagan was already in the most festive of moods. There were magical lights strewn across nearly every rooftop, all bright and shiny even with the day still young. Ice mages of all ages were working on large structures in the public spaces, reliefs of the gods, depicted in the midst of celebrating the same holy days as their mortal believers.


    When the lyrkress saw the Cadrian exhibit, positioned awfully close to the center of the city square, she twisted her lips into a frown.


    ¡°Claire? What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    Sylvia transformed into a fairy and catapulted herself off her mount¡¯s head. Dropping all of her momentum in midair, she spun around and hovered in front of the other girl¡¯s face. She was the only one to have noticed the change in the lyrkress¡¯ demeanor. The other three¡ªthey had regrouped with Matthais shortly after returning to town¡ªwere walking in front of them in search of a place to enjoy a midday meal.


    ¡°That statue pisses me off,¡± muttered the snake, as she gazed upon the half-complete, spider-shaped goddess.


    ¡°It does? Is there something wrong with it or something?¡±


    ¡°There isn¡¯t. And that¡¯s exactly why it pisses me off.¡± She glanced at her countrymen from afar whilst lowering her voice. ¡°Vella¡¯s been annoying me. Ever since the time I made the mistake of visiting her temple.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ Right, I almost forgot that happened.¡± The tiny pixie floated back atop the other girl¡¯s head, this time, choosing to seat herself atop one of her massive ears.


    The lyrkress was mildly annoyed by the sexual harassment, but she didn¡¯t let it show on her face. Waiting until they were under a large sign, she twitched her ear and flicked the tiny foxgirl into it headfirst.


    ¡°Ow!¡± cried Sylvia, as she pushed herself out of the freshly deformed metal. ¡°What the heck was that for!?¡±


    ¡°Figure it out.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re such a meanie!¡± The fairy puffed up her cheeks before returning to the exact same spot, clearly not having learned her lesson. ¡°It¡¯s not my fault your ears are the softest spot on your head.¡±


    ¡°Yes it is,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Huh! How!? That doesn¡¯t even make sense!¡±


    Shrugging, the lyrkress quickened her pace to catch up with the others and followed them into a nearby building. It had taken them some time to figure out what they wanted to eat, but eventually, they settled on their usual haunt.


    Gulfweed Reef was a middling eatery. It suffered greatly from its lack of a draw¡ªthe establishment offered nothing but standard seaside dishes at the standard seaside quality and standard seaside price¡ªbut precisely because it was so average, it all but guaranteed that only the pickiest eater, who surely would have been annoyed wherever they went, was left dissatisfied.


    Claire would have picked a high-end restaurant instead had she been in charge of the decision, but such extravagance lay beyond the realm of their budget, and continued visitations were sure to draw attention from people in high places. They very well could have eaten at Madame Popov¡¯s restaurant for free and even had their food taken up to their rooms to avoid unwanted gazes, but Lia had objected, citing that they had already relied on her godmother for a place to stay, and that it wouldn¡¯t be right to ask for any more.


    While downgrading to Gulfweed Reef had certainly worked wonders for their budget, it remained a fact that the girls did not exactly blend in. Most others in their line of work had their parties¡¯ gender ratios skewed in the opposite direction, and it was not uncommon to hear men complain about the sausage fests they were bound to. That alone, however, would not have grabbed the eyes of so many. There were plenty of groups that consisted strictly of either males or females with no intermingling. Relationships often threw wrenches into well thought out power dynamics and plans, and an unwanted child was a surefire way to put an immediate end to a spelunker¡¯s career.


    For Claire¡¯s group, the problem was not that they were mostly girls, but rather that they were mostly beautiful girls. It was not uncommon for men drunk and sober to approach them and attempt to court one of their members. As it stood, Lia was by far the most popular; the former Paunsean soldier had at least twice the suitor count of all the others. Three brave souls had even attempted proposing immediately after introducing themselves, only to be shot down just as promptly as all the others.


    Arciel¡¯s lack of popularity, the lyrkress understood. The deposed princess had disguised herself in an unassuming human form, and her body was covered in tattoos signifying her belief in the moon. It was clear, despite her often revealing outfits, that she was a chaste devotee to the goddess that hung in the sky, perhaps even a priestess that one would be smited for attempting to touch. Likewise, Sylvia¡¯s headcount was lackluster because she spent most of her time as an oversized rat. She was pretty as a picture in her elven form, and the combination of her features and her bubbly personality drew the affections of men and women alike, but it was seen only once in a blue moon and treated by those not in the know as something of a local legend.


    Matthias, the party¡¯s final member, was certainly not beautiful or a girl, but even he had seen more courtship than the lyrkress. The local succubi spread rumours that he was surely a god beneath the sheets, given his ability to satisfy an entire party of women, while those that saw more interaction with the knight claimed that he was an indisputable man of virtue that deserved nothing but respect. To that end, he drew suitors from both sides of the spectrum, fathers hoping to marry off their daughters and lovely ladies that preyed on vitality alike.


    It was not as if Claire wished to be flirted with. She very much preferred to be left alone, especially considering her experiences in the Cadrian court, but she was disturbed by the results as they were. The halfbreed knew that she was by far the most beautiful of the bunch. Her face was finely sculpted, her fluffy, shapely ears were large enough to be deemed objects of worship, and her scales were sparkly as a glacier beneath the sun. Even her bloodline was outstanding, drawing from two of the continent¡¯s greatest lineages. She was quite literally the embodiment of perfection. And yet, the odd pervert aside, the locals continued to overlook her charms.


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it. Why does everyone like catgirls?¡±


    ¡°H-huh?¡± The party¡¯s feline reacted with a start. ¡°Sorry, uhmm, what was that about catgirls?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± Claire kept her mouth sealed as she looked out the window and found a strange group of men. They were clearly out of place when compared to the locals, not only because of their racial traits, but also because most of their members lacked the festive cheer shared by nearly every soul in the city. Each of the twelve had their elephant-like heads twisted into a grimace and their stalwart, bulky arms held neatly to their sides. Long tails grew out of their rears, flat and wide like a beaver¡¯s, but at least three times as long.


    ¡°Erdbrecher mercenaries,¡± muttered Arciel.


    ¡°Urdawhat?¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice. ¡°What are those?¡±


    ¡°The erdbrechers are a race of people from the south,¡± said Natalya. ¡°There aren¡¯t many of them, but I¡¯ve heard that they¡¯re pretty tough. Most of the adult males go into mercenary work, apparently.¡±


    ¡°I fear that they may be here to assist the harlot.¡± The vampire watched as the elephantmen marched down the city¡¯s main street. While it was impossible to say for certain, it looked as if they were headed straight for the castle. ¡°If that is the case, then we may require a change of plans. We are prepared to eliminate the queensblades, but we may not have the means to contend with an erdbrecher band as we are now.¡±


    ¡°You better make up your mind quickly then,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I shall order Count Ray¡¯esce to investigate.¡± Arciel twisted her eyes away from the castle and turned them back on her companions. ¡°For now, let us relish this time of joy and make merry like the cityfolk. It would be a shame to allow this beautiful festive air to go to waste.¡±


    Nodding, Claire cut a piece out of her freshly served sandwich and fed it to the fairy on her head.


    The queen¡¯s crown would certainly fall. But only after they had their fill of fun.

 Chapter 229 - Horses, Goats, and Basements II

    Chapter 229 - Horses, Goats, and Basements II


    The group went its separate ways after lunch. Lia left to restock on supplies, Arciel and Matthais went to visit their key allies, and even Boris wandered off into the sunset, supposedly to defeat Marcelle once and for all in a game of find the shiniest object. Despite her wanderlust, the Llystletein-sourced manatee had settled in as one of the party¡¯s auxiliary members. Specifically, she had reprised her role as Matthais¡¯ mount and ferried him around the sky for a wage consisting primarily of shiny rocks and aquatic plants.


    One would assume from the goods exchanged that the mantis was cutting Marcelle a raw deal, but in truth, it was the other way around. The only seaweeds she was willing to consume were those present in the lost library¡¯s bounds, none of which grew natively in Vel¡¯khanese seas. To acquire them, he had to import fresh produce from the south, the price of which was heavily inflated by its novelty. Worse yet, the sea cow did not entirely understand what it meant to be employed and would often vanish and go about her own business when she was meant to be on the clock.


    Claire had no idea how Boris planned to find the blubbery mass, given her propensity to disappear, but he waddled with enough confidence to suggest that he had some sort of plan. He had even offered to take her with him, but the lyrkress had shot down the proposition in favour of returning to her residence with her fox in tow.


    They could have very well warped themselves straight into their room, but they chose to walk instead. Teleporting almost seemed wasteful; it was a nice, warm afternoon, and the snow that drifted through the air was faint and powdery. Being almost entirely immune to changes in temperature, Claire could hardly feel the difference on her skin, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. The combination of the foreign city and the light flurry made for a scene right out of a storybook, a winter wonderland the likes of which the bards had always sung.


    Such scenes were incredibly rare in Cadria; the mountains that bordered it brought heavy snowstorms, blizzards that could freeze entire cities overnight. The three most dominant races were well adapted to the hostile climate, however. Pureblooded centaurs did not fear the cold. Even without any resistances, they could wander through waist high snow without a word of complaint. Thorae took the opposite approach and hibernated the winter away, while the cottontails walked the middleground. They were fine with both tunneling through the snow and falling asleep inside of it. So likely was the latter that it was not unheard of for a rabbit-eared child to vanish on a cold winter night and suddenly reappear with the coming of spring.


    Claire, like most that shared her mother¡¯s blood, was not nearly as well adapted. Sthenia was only a little bit south of the Cadrian homeland, but its climate was moderate, far warmer than that of even Vel¡¯khan¡¯s. There was hardly ever snow in the winter, and even freezing rain was considered a rare and disastrous occurrence¡ªthe lamias that were its primary inhabitants would balk at the slightest hint of cold.


    ¡°Why are we going back home anyway? Is it just ¡®cause you wanna nap?¡± The not-so-stuffed animal in the lyrkress¡¯ arms voiced the question as the half-moose turned a corner.


    ¡°Maybe not a nap,¡± said the moose, after a brief delay, ¡°but I think I need a bit of a break. I don¡¯t feel like doing anything right now.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that just ¡®cause you¡¯re burnt out? You guys have basically been grinding nonstop for like three straight months.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve done a few quests here and there as well.¡±


    ¡°Only ¡®cause Lia starts complaining whenever we start spending more than we make. And that barely counts! It¡¯s still basically more of the same thing!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s still a break either way.¡±


    Claire turned another corner and slowly raised her head towards a familiar hotel. Silkroad Suites could very easily be picked out from everything else in its vicinity. While most buildings were made of glass, it alone had walls made of large stone blocks, glued in place with thin layers of mortar, and not the ordinary variety either. The individual pieces were large, exactly one meter tall and three across. Not all of them were the same shade of red, but it was clear from the design that it was an intentional choice. The colours flowed neatly into each other, as if to give the impression that every single brick had been cut from the same stoneface.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t really matter. I¡¯m not burnt out,¡± said Claire.


    Sylvia furrowed her brow, unconvinced. ¡°I think it might help you feel better if you go for a quick flight or something.¡±


    The lyrkress rolled her eyes whilst tugging on the fox¡¯s cheeks. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Sylvia.¡± She raised her pet just a little and buried her face in her fuzzy back. ¡°And before you ask, yes, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ if you say so.¡± The fox breathed a small sigh. ¡°I¡¯m gonna get really mad and bite you if I find out that you¡¯re just trying to act tough.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± said Claire, with a giggle. ¡°I liked leveling.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just ¡®cause you¡¯re weird. Normal people don¡¯t really spend that much time killing stuff.¡±


    ¡°Says the level thousand something,¡± said Claire, as she stretched the vixen¡¯s face.


    ¡°That¡¯s just ¡®cause I was bored and didn¡¯t really get along with most of the other foxes,¡± huffed Sylvia. ¡°It was basically the only thing I had to do.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m starting to see why you¡¯re so obsessed with children¡¯s games.¡±


    ¡°Huh!? What¡¯s that supposed to mean!¡±


    ¡°It means you never grew up,¡± said the moose.


    ¡°I¡¯m totally grown up! Heck, I even had my coming of age ceremony just a little bit before I met you!¡±


    ¡°Okay fine. Your body¡¯s grown, but your mind hasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Wow! Rude!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not rude if it¡¯s true.¡± A teasing grin on her face, Claire scratched her companion¡¯s chin and clamped her mouth shut before she could voice another complaint. ¡°Now do me a favour and keep quiet until we get back into our room. We¡¯ve already got too many people staring.¡±


    ¡°Mmd whmmsmm fhmlt efff mat!?¡±


    ¡°Yours, of course. Now shush.¡±


    The lyrkress walked through the front door with graceful steps. When the receptionists greeted her, she nodded at them, lightly, silently, as would any other lady of high standing. The discrepancy between her armoured appearance and her high-class behaviour often drove the tellers to make wild speculations about her origins. Their conjectures were certainly mildly annoying to hear, but Claire didn¡¯t quite mind them in the abstract. The more exaggerated their guesses got, the less likely they were to butt into her business.


    But even knowing that, Claire sometimes found herself fighting the urge to voice her thoughts, the perfect example of which had arisen right before they set out on their latest expedition. Rumours of the goddess of ears had spread across the city following a certain company¡¯s downfall, and the gossip-loving receptionists spent no time catching wind of the word on the street. The fat one in particular, whose body was halfway between that of a pufferfish and a sea cucumber, had offered absurd interpretations that had caused the others¡¯ imaginations to fly off the deep end. By the end of the first day, they had concluded that the goddess was quite literally a large pair of ears and nothing but, despite the event¡¯s witnesses having described her to the local journalists in detail.


    What frustrated the Cadrian the most was knowing that the claim was not entirely illogical. The Vel¡¯khanese knew nothing of centaurian beauty standards, nor did many of them possess ears to admire to begin with; there was no reason for them to suspect that the designation was derived from only one aspect of her form. The whole ordeal had irritated her to the point where she almost regretted the stunt, but a quick glance at her status screen silenced her complaints each time.


    Her divinity had skyrocketed following the incident, doubling twice in just one week. And while the pace of its growth had slowed after the initial wave of gossip, she still saw the odd spike once every few days, no doubt because the rumours were still in circulation.


    Recalling the event left Claire incredibly annoyed, but she silently made her way through the foyer and up two flights of stairs. Her room was number 308, located smack dab in the middle of the hall. It had been a full six days since she last used it, but room service had refrained from entering at her behest. Everything, including the coinage she had accidentally left out in the open, was exactly where it was; the bed was still messy, there were old ceramic plates scattered all over, and the carpet was still covered in bits of orange hair.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The fur¡¯s source had slipped out of her captor¡¯s arms and closed the door behind them as soon as they entered. She made sure it was locked before turning herself into a humanoid and wrapping her arms around Claire from behind. Because it had become something of an established routine, the vixen had fully expected for the other girl to shrink in response, but Claire was far too preoccupied. When Sylvia followed her line of sight, she found a strange object that had her tilting her head in confusion.


    ¡°Hey, uhmm¡­ Claire? Was that always there?¡±


    ¡°Definitely not.¡±


    ¡°What is it anyway?¡±


    ¡°A dagger. Idiot.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! You know that¡¯s not what I meant!¡±


    The foxgirl puffed up her cheeks as she separated herself from her favourite moose and approached the mysterious object. As Claire had stated, it was a weapon with a tiny blade, measuring it at only twice the length of its handle. Carved from obsidian and inlaid with gold, the jagged edge was finely serrated, and its spine featured a pure magical vein, glowing and pulsing with leftover hints of divine energy. The curious fox tried grabbing the weapon, but an invisible barrier got in her way and repelled her fingers. It almost felt like she was touching a panel of glass, albeit one that was flawless enough to be perfectly see-through.


    Claire, on the other hand, encountered no such obstacle. The finely crafted blade fell into her hand when she reached for it. Its handle fit perfectly between her fingers; everything from the length, the width, the curvature, and the grip was perfectly adjusted for her hand. It was the sort of fine weapon that only the god of the inner flame could craft. Several bits of knowledge were packed into her brain when she handled it¡ªthe weapon¡¯s primary ability, its purpose, and most importantly, its origin.


    With that newfound bit of knowledge in mind, Claire promptly raised it overhead, and after rearing back to gather as much strength as she could, sprang forward and launched it out the window. The blade flew true, barely missing a particularly unlucky jellyfish before vanishing into the aether.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ what was that?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Vella. Again.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ I didn¡¯t know she was so uhmm¡­ persistent.¡±


    ¡°I think she¡¯s just used to getting what she wants.¡±


    A small smile crossed her lips when she considered the possibility that the deity was still watching. Though she didn¡¯t know her well, she could easily imagine the humanoid spider stamping her feet and screaming in a mix of confusion and frustration. It was unlikely that the divine would immediately curse her for the blasphemy, but she knew that she would need to find another way to deal with her constant pestering before her interest turned to annoyance.


    It wasn¡¯t that she didn¡¯t want the goddess¡¯ blessing, quite the opposite, in fact. Vella¡¯s affection was known to be among the most beneficial; its effect boosted the amount of experience gained when training with or fighting against sentient beings. There was no clear downside, but Claire was not keen on becoming the goddess¡¯ next obsession. She hated the way that the immortal looked at her; whenever their eyes met, she could tell that Vella saw her not as an individual, but rather a member of the collective spawned of her blood. She was just another trophy in the case, another coin in the bank present only to be observed. And that was why she was glad to be rid of the blade.


    Her triumph, however, was as ephemeral as a groundhog predicting a late spring, for the weapon returned from the great blue and stopped next to the sill. She immediately discarded it again, lightly tossing it out the window in hopes of negating its effect, but it hopped right back after hitting the ground. Claire furrowed her brow. After a moment of consideration, she grabbed the weapon, leapt out into the alley, and drove it into the pavement. She made sure to bury it as deeply as she could, and even shifted a few stones to lock it in place, but not even that exaggerated performance was able to stop the dagger in its tracks. It broke free immediately and took its place by her side like a vengeful spirit. And there, it stayed, as if physically attached. Though she swerved three times, in an attempt to lose it, it followed perfectly as she flew back up to the room and dove through the window.


    ¡°Wow, it¡¯s almost as stubborn as you are,¡± said Sylvia, with a giggle.


    ¡°I¡¯m not stubborn,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Right¡­¡± The fox paused to shift her eyes before glancing between the person and the tool. ¡°So what are you going to do with it?¡±


    ¡°What do you think?¡± The former noble lady narrowed her eyes at the undesired object. She grabbed the dagger with a thousand vectors and moved them all in different directions, but the blade refused to come apart. She followed that attempt with a tiny breath, perfectly controlled so it would hit nothing else in the room, but the dagger resisted even the innate destructive ability born of her draconic blood.


    ¡°What¡¯s it supposed to be for anyway? Did you finish one of her quests or something?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡± Claire formed an icy axe in her hand and cleaved at the dagger¡¯s handle, but again, it was unaffected. ¡°It¡¯s a bribe. She keeps trying to convince me to kill my father.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Sylvia blinked a few times before grabbing her mount by the wrist and tugging her over to the couch. ¡°Oh yeah, that reminds me!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± asked the moose, as she was made to sit in the other girl¡¯s lap.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to ask, just how strong is your dad anyway?¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes and tried to put some distance between them, but the arms around her stomach kept her anchored in place. The overly huggy fox refused to let go even when prodded in the side by the other girl¡¯s venom-laced tail.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Nothing!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Just helping you relax.¡±


    ¡°I told you. I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnn¡­ you don¡¯t seem fine to me.¡± She pressed her own tail down on top of the half-snake¡¯s and buried her face in her neck. ¡°You smell really stressed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not stressed. And stop smelling me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been grinding your teeth a lot lately too. And your tail is always really tensed up.¡±


    ¡°Whatever. It¡¯s not a big deal.¡±


    ¡°Mmmn¡­ if you say so.¡± Despite agreeing verbally, Sylvia refused to let go. She even pulled the other girl a little closer and purposefully fell over sideways, so that they laid on the sofa together. ¡°But uhmmmm, I really wanna take a nap right now and I¡¯ll feel really lonely if I have to do it by myself.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°At least come up with a better lie. Idiot.¡± Like the half-elf, the lyrkress saw a discrepancy between her actions and her words. She kept complaining as she turned around and snuggled into the fox¡¯s irritatingly calming embrace.


    ¡°My father,¡± there was a long pause, ¡°is the sort of man that even a god would struggle to smite.¡±


    ¡°Now that¡¯s just silly,¡± giggled Sylvia.


    ¡°You¡¯d think.¡± Claire grimaced. ¡°But he killed an aspect before his second ascension.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked. ¡°No way. That¡¯s impossible! How the heck did he manage something like that!?¡±


    The dracoqilin shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. He doesn¡¯t like talking about it.¡±


    ¡°I kinda wanna think that it was probably just dumb luck, but luck isn¡¯t gonna make up a difference of like a whole thousand levels when he hasn¡¯t even got three hundred.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so either,¡± said Claire. ¡°I don¡¯t know what level he is right now exactly, but some of his classes are over two thousand.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not that bad then. I¡¯ve got a few of those too, and my bard class is like halfway through three.¡±


    The moose paused briefly, before raising a finger and flicking the foxgirl¡¯s nose.


    ¡°Ow! What the heck was that for!?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± Claire stuck out her tongue. ¡°You can let go now.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnnn¡­¡± Her pet pulled back and took a few moments to look at her before finally nodding in satisfaction and loosening her grip. ¡°Mmkay. I¡¯m glad you¡¯re feeling better.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Flicking the fox again, the abyssal hoarfrost scalewarden got off the couch and walked in front of the mirror. Her magical cloak turned into a dress, a tunic, and even a suit of armour before she finally settled on a deep purple blouse in line with her mother¡¯s tastes. Then and only then did she turn to the veranda and magically open the door to reveal Boris and Marcelle.


    Both critters were covered in a thin coat of snow, but neither found themselves any worse for the wear. The lizard, like his mistress, was effectively immune to the cold, while Marcelle was protected by a layer of thick fat.


    ¡°Oh, hey guys!¡± Sylvia slowly sat up and waved at the pair. The sea cow happily replied in kind, and even threw in a squeal to boot, while the lizard simply greeted her with a lazy nod.


    Claire removed snow off them both with a snap. But while she allowed the manatee to float over to the fireplace, she stopped the lizard by the door.


    ¡°Hold on,¡± she said. ¡°I need you to do something for me.¡±


    Boris cocked his head.


    ¡°Eat this.¡±


    Claire grabbed Vella¡¯s so-called gift and set it down on the floor in front of him. Having never been treated as a garbage bin before, the metallic iguana blinked in confusion, but soon did as told. He snapped it in his jaws right before it returned to its previous position, and with a clatter, sentenced it to an eternity in his stomach.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ are you sure that¡¯s a good idea?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°Isn¡¯t it gonna like¡­ tear a hole in him and fly back out or something?¡±


    A very panicked Boris began looking between the two halfbreeds; sweat surely would have begun flowing down his brow had he the ability to produce it.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire, after a brief delay. ¡°It would¡¯ve happened already, if it was going to.¡±


    Sylvia was still somewhat concerned, but the lizard shrugged off the event and proceeded to his usual spot by the hearth. Something in the back of his mind told him that he should have complained, but he saw no issue with the end result. It was a very tasty dagger, after all.

 Chapter 230 - Horses, Goats, and Basements III

    Chapter 230 - Horses, Goats, and Basements III


    Accompanied by a trio of somewhat intelligent animals, Claire headed out into the city after a brief rest by the hearth. The snow was heavier than it had been earlier in the afternoon, but it was still light enough for the lyrkress, who was in her four legged form, to walk through it unimpeded. The cold didn¡¯t bother her, and her body temperature was low enough that the fluffy snowflakes were carried off by the winds before they could melt into her clothes.


    The same could be said for Boris and Marcelle. Neither was particularly bothered by the flurry, but the resident fox saw the storm through a different lens. Sylvia was like a magnet for ice crystals. Every flake that touched her stuck to her fur and quickly transformed her from a Llystletein fox to a sculpture made entirely of snow. Of course, such a fate would never have befallen the unlucky popsicle had Claire not tickled her each time she tried to craft a bubble, but such was life for the keeper of a petty snake-moose.


    Vel¡¯khagan was only a fraction of Valencia¡¯s size, but the capital city was no small settlement. It was a bustling metropolis packed to the brim with things to do. There were art galleries for those that wished to see the wonders of the world, theatres for performers from all walks of life, and even markets for any product that a wealthy buyer could imagine. Contraband was no exception. The city was home to at least three major crime lords, all of whom had the guards on their payroll.


    Entertaining and accepting the offers was common practice amongst powerful warriors, regardless of whether they were granted peerage by the crown. It was politics that typically drove the behaviour, for governments and criminal syndicates often shared unspoken agreements of noninterference. One might conclude that it was due to corruption that such injustice was tolerated, but that was by no means the case. Police forces were ill equipped to handle organisations with high-leveled individuals, and throwing the military at the problem was unlikely to result in anything but a waste of life. In a way, it was something of a mutually beneficial relationship. The criminals would parasitize the country in times of peace, but if the officials were cooperative enough, they would offer skilled fighters to assist in times of crisis. Of course, such leniency was granted only in the case that the syndicates kept their operations under wraps. Those that stepped into the limelight or went too far with their misdeeds would have to be taken down so the governments could save face.


    Thus, while punitive forces often went after smaller groups yet to establish themselves, they would steer clear of any larger entities. This approach was well known among the force¡¯s veterans, but its starry-eyed youths would often foolishly attempt to bring justice upon any villainous scum that dared to disobey the law, regardless of who they were with or how powerful they were. The officers would often have to go out of their way to deter their dogooder subordinates by washing their brains over time, and for their trouble, the Vel¡¯khanese underground would award them with generous stipends aplenty.


    Claire had no intention of interfacing with any such unsavoury groups, but her destination, the city¡¯s arena, was no doubt funded by one don or another. Unlike the government-owned colosseum back home, Vel¡¯khagan¡¯s was run by a private business that¡ªaccording to Arciel at least¡ªmade more of its money from gambling than it did ticket sales and foodstuffs.


    While certainly not the only issue, its location was one of the driving forces behind its lack of profitability. It was placed in one of the bays that lay in the city¡¯s northern quarter, an out-of-the-way destination that land dwellers had difficulty accessing. There were plenty of spells and tools, magical or otherwise, that allowed those without gills to respire underwater, but even renting one for a day would increase the effective ticket price tenfold. Most landlocked observers came instead on ships, casting shadows on the arena from above and worsening the experience for the audience located beneath the waves.


    It was less of a problem in the winter, during which the boats were beached, but some would still walk atop the ice and look down into the depths. These unpaid observers were always chased off by guards and patrols, but their presence was common enough to dissuade many would-be customers from offering their patronage.


    To make matters worse, the unique terrain greatly limited the foreign talent that could be brought in and displayed. Fighters that spent all their time above ground would be greatly weakened in the water, even if they were able to breathe. As such, few others in the business considered it a good place to hold exhibition matches and premier their rising stars. All in all, it was widely considered a failure of an establishment. And that was precisely why Claire had been curious enough to pay it a visit.


    There was only one problem.


    ¡°Pets aren¡¯t allowed inside of the colosseum.¡± The rejection was grumbled by a mermaid with a head of curly brown and grey hair.


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait! Hold on!¡± cried the only critter to mind the label. ¡°I¡¯m not a pet!¡±


    The salesperson slowly raised her head and adjusted her goggles before looking back down at the book she was holding in her hands. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. You¡¯re not allowed.¡± She made no attempt to hide the text¡¯s identity; the cover made it clear that it was a novel, specifically that of the detective variety.


    ¡°What the heck!?¡± cried Sylvia.


    ¡°And you too,¡± she pointed at Claire. ¡°You¡¯re not allowed anymore either. Don¡¯t ever come back.¡°


    The lyrkress felt a twinge of annoyance pulse through her skull, but kept her face neutral as always. ¡°This is our first time here.¡±


    ¡°Do I look like I give a shit?¡± the menopause victim grumbled. ¡°Hurry up and get the hell out of here before I call security.¡±


    ¡°At least explain what the problem is,¡± said Claire, with a roll of the eyes.


    ¡°I did. Pets aren¡¯t allowed, and you¡¯ve already got three strikes.¡± She pointed at each of the animals in the moose¡¯s vicinity in turn.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see that written anywhere.¡±


    ¡°How about you shut the fuck up and leave?¡± The mermaid threw her book onto her desk and leaned forward with her hands pressed against the wood. ¡°I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s written or not. I make the rules.¡± She got right up in the longmoose¡¯s face and bore her teeth.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem very reasonable.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s too bad. Now scram.¡±


    Claire could feel her fist itching. ¡°I refuse.¡±


    ¡°Fine, have it your wa¡ª¡±


    ¡°Tra¡¯akhtch? I can handle it from here.¡±


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    The mermaid opened her mouth and prepared to call the guards, but she was cut short when a strange man burst into the space between them. He was of a very peculiar build, identifiable as a male only because of his deep and somber voice. His body was constructed of a single strip of seaweed, its pieces frayed to form limbs and hair. His face almost looked like it was drawn on in white paint, and by an amateur at that. It was comprised entirely of three misshapen circles, two that were identical, and one that was slightly larger.


    ¡°Fine.¡± The lady at the desk scoffed, but refrained from commenting any further. Waving the group away, she sat back in her chair and immersed herself in her book.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t mind her.¡± The kelp-man spoke as he slowly walked towards the entrance. ¡°She¡¯s been a bit bitter ever since she lost her daughters in the incident, particularly around those with ears.¡±


    ¡°Incident? What inci¡ª¡± Sylvia pressed her paws against her mouth. ¡°Ohhhhh¡­ that incident.¡±


    The plant nodded. ¡°To make up for her poor display, we¡¯d like to compensate you. Unfortunately, our VIP seating happens to be undergoing maintenance, but we can at least offer you seats in the first class. And of course, complimentary food and drink throughout the day as well. So long as you¡¯re willing to keep this incident under wraps, of course,¡± he said, with a wink.


    ¡°Is first class seating private?¡± asked the lyrkress.


    ¡°It depends on availability. You¡¯ll have a room to yourselves for now, but you may have to share it with other customers if any of them are unlucky enough to wind up in your situation.¡±


    Claire paused to consider the proposition before slowly nodding her head. ¡°Fine.¡±


    ¡°Right this way then.¡±


    The man led her through the entrance to reveal a hall that was strikingly lacking in grandeur. What she noticed first was that the gladiators¡¯ achievements went largely uncelebrated; there were no trophies lining the walls, nor any statues immortalising the fighters¡¯ greatest upsets. There was not even a ledger of champions, which she had always assumed to be a colosseum¡¯s most basic feature. Even the crowd was dreary. There were only a few children present and excited to cheer for their favourites, and the few guests that discussed the fighters¡¯ prospects did so with only profits in mind.


    Claire could feel her eyes widening. Her first thought was that it had to be an illusion, a fantastic depiction constructed to explore life in an alternate reality. But looking through all five hundred and seventy two eyes¡ªand shocking another guest or two¡ªconfirmed that it was no such piece of art. The dull, drab, doleful arena was every bit as depressing as it appeared.


    The areas reserved for its first class guests were still lavish, but while fancy, they were more boorish and distasteful than classy. The solid gold almost seemed wasted on the boring backdrop, but voicing none of her thoughts out loud, Claire followed the man until he reached the room labeled 17B. Marcelle flew straight in when he opened the door and dove into a particularly soft-looking sofa.


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ didn¡¯t you say colosseums were supposed to be super epic or something?¡± asked Sylvia, after the man departed.


    ¡°In Cadria,¡± said Claire. She didn¡¯t bother with any of the fancy chairs. Grabbing a few pillows instead, she laid them down next to the glass screen and seated herself as would any other equine. ¡°This place¡­ seems run down. I doubt there¡¯s much fun to be had.¡±


    ¡°Awwww¡­¡± The fox¡¯s ears drooped.


    A metal lizard slowly swam over and placed a hand on her shoulder as she began to slouch. He didn¡¯t make any sounds, but her ears twitched when their eyes met, as if she had heard his thoughts.


    ¡°Good point, Boris! The fights could still be exciting.¡±


    Claire was more inclined to believe the opposite, but reserved her judgement as she cast her eyes on the arena below. Despite the facilities, the fighters were not quite as lackluster as she had expected. The chihuahua-headed lobster and the skeletal, six-legged chair in the ring were engaged in a deadly dance of might and magic. The former was firing blasts of air with his claws, superheated projectiles he made by snapping them together, while the latter kept shifting his shape to avoid the near-fatal attacks.


    Both were more technical than they were powerful, but that was precisely why it was so entertaining to watch. Each of their moves could be slowly observed and interpreted, studied as a means to achieve victory without relying on brute force¡ªor at least that would have been the case had the match not been scripted. It was clear from a glance that the lobster was missing on purpose. His accuracy was even worse than it would have been had he blindly fired his attacks. The chair was just as cautious not to hurt his foe. His attacks were fast, but he pulled his punches at the very last second, rendering them too weak to break through his enemy¡¯s shell.


    While it was certainly masterful in its own right for the fighters to stick so perfectly to their choreography, Claire soon found herself too bored to pay attention. She slowly drifted off, falling asleep with her head against the glass.


    When she opened her eyes again, she was greeted by a familiar black void. The darkness was all there was to perceive until she took a deep breath and slowly raised a hand. A pair of doors formed when she pressed her palm against the empty space, twisting into reality right before her eyes. The smaller entrance was made of a strange melange of materials, lumber, metal, and something she didn¡¯t quite know, while its counterpart had a pure, cherrywood body, inlaid with nothing but a small panel of glass.


    Claire frowned as she looked between them, unsure of where to go. Visiting the phantom seemed like the best choice. Opening his door was sure to provide her with an opportunity to level her skills in her sleep, but she hesitated as the afternoon¡¯s events came to mind. The fox was right. She needed a bit of a breather, and the whole point of the outing was recreation. Doubling down on her training almost seemed antithetical.


    More importantly, it had been a few months since she last visited the manor. She had refrained from possessing the homunculus ever since her father instantiated himself as the nation¡¯s monarch. Her great uncle¡¯s death was, in a way, an unexpected turn of events. While everyone had assumed that Virillius would eventually take over, Claire had always assumed that it would come as a function of the previous ruler¡¯s abdication and not his decapitation, given their long-standing friendship.


    Pursing her lips, Claire considered the final words that the two aspects had exchanged before finally making up her mind and approaching the larger door. Her father was rarely present; she was unlikely to be disturbed as she strolled through the garden and looked down upon the familiar, frost-laden city.


    The world distorted as she retrieved the key hidden within her chest and inserted it into the lock. A squeezing sensation enveloped her body when she twisted it, the familiar feeling of being pushed into a body already possessed by another soul.


    It took a moment for her senses to link up with her mind. Her hearing was first. An unpleasant, shrill voice echoed through her massive ears. She struggled initially to identify the words spoken, in part because some were unfamiliar, and in part because they were still half muddled by her brain. Next was her sense of touch. She felt her sensations spread through the homunculus¡¯ body, extending all the way from its fleshy core to the tips of its slimy extremities. The familiar scent of home slowly flooded her mind, processed first with her tongue, and then her nasal cavity. Finally, there was her sight. She almost found it strange for the last sense to be so limited. Her eyes could no longer amplify the things she wanted to see in detail, as she could in her own body, and she could focus only on one image at a time.


    At the moment of her possession, said image was that of an unfamiliar thoraen lady wearing a fancy robe. She was writing something on a sheet of paper as she spoke, pointing between a particularly hefty textbook and a dark, chalky board.


    Both were riddled with symbols beyond her comprehension, Xs, Ys, squiggly lines, checkmarks and even apostrophes aplenty. The notebook sitting in front of her was filled with them as well, written in a way that appeared to denote comprehension despite her clear lack thereof. The thought was accompanied by a twitch of the nose, a sign from her body that it was willing to explain, but she shook it off and rose to her feet.


    The flabbergasted tutor barely reacted by the time she leapt out the window. But she was only half as confused as the lyrkress that had fled the classroom.


    For it was only as Claire jumped that she realised she was not in the manor.


    She was within the castle¡¯s confines, ten stories above its training ground.


    And directly beneath her, already looking up towards the sky, was the man that she called her father.

 Chapter 231 - Horses, Goats, and Basements IV

    Chapter 231 - Horses, Goats, and Basements IV


    Claire tried to make an escape in midair. She raised both her arms in front of her and channeled a spell, but to little avail. While she was able to right herself with an array of vectors, her attempts at ice magic ended in failure¡ªthe lack of a catalyst slowed the process and robbed her of her power. The door she ordered was delivered as a tiny block whose shape was only vaguely rectangular. She tried it thrice more. Each repetition came with greater refinement, but she ran out of time before she was able to craft the object pictured in her mind.


    ¡°Claire? Are you alright?¡± Her father voiced the question as he caught her in his arms and gently set her down. She knew it was a ruse; he surely would have allowed her to fall and subsequently criticised her lack of ability had they been the only two present, but in front of the men he was instructing, he played the part he knew he should.


    And it was precisely because they were before a crowd that she chose the response most likely to cause him trouble.


    ¡°I must apologize, Father. I happened to slip and fall out of the window,¡± she said. The words were spoken at their usual volume¡ªmore than loud enough for his students to overhear.


    It was not inaccurate to describe them as fresh blood, members that had only recently joined the royal guard¡¯s ranks, but the image typically evoked by such a description was not at all representative of the scene laid out before her. They were not younglings still struggling through the pains of puberty, but seasoned veterans ready to become elites. All of the hundred-odd men present were thrice ascended at least. As was the case with every other group under her father¡¯s direct command, the men were made almost entirely of muscle. Even the pure mages had trained their bodies to the point where they could strangle lions with their bare hands. It was often repeated by the exhausted trainees that the casters were the ones with the toughest regimen. They were not allowed to invest their points in strength, and forced instead to build up their bodies through training and combat. Some had tens of thousands of points in the stat, purely because they had torn so many different species to bits with their bare hands.


    Though their instructor¡¯s eyes were no longer upon them, the pupils continued to spar. Some were more earnest than others, but most had their ears peeled and their curiosities alight. As far as Claire could tell at a glance, it was a class on resourcefulness. One of the two fighters in each arena was fully suited up, while the other was unarmoured and bare-handed.


    ¡°Perhaps we should look into investing into some better railings then,¡± said Virillius. A normal person would have responded to the cheeky white lie with a grin, but the psychopath that was her father allowed no such expression to show. An appraising glint momentarily flashed through his eyes, but he otherwise remained as unperturbed as ever.


    ¡°I shall be fine without them, Father. It is only a ten story fall, hardly enough to cause any harm.¡±


    She was known to jump from heights without incurring any injury, but ten floors was outside her usual range. Still, the bluff seemed to pass. Most of the troops nodded along, with some commenting on the events that transpired in Virillius¡¯ absence, and others having long heard from the elves that the Duke Augustus¡¯ daughter could not have possibly been as weak as she seemed. It was a theory with as many adherents as it had denouncers, but the more recent rumours, such as that of the lady leaping from Augustus manor and evading the guards on the way down, had fueled another wave of speculation.


    Her attitude was another major contributor¡ªshe paid the thrice ascendants not even the tiniest smidgeon of respect. Of course, she was far above them as far as social standing was concerned, but the nation was home to only a thousand such fighters. Given the extent of their strength and accomplishments, most other ladies would have basked the knights in praise and admiration. Even Princess Octavia, who had remained as one of the castle¡¯s occupants in the wake of King Ferdinand¡¯s premature retirement, would occasionally be caught making eyes at the royal guard¡¯s rugged commander. Claire, however, did no such thing. The only looks she gave the men were those of disdain. Cold, judging glares that silenced them as quickly as her father¡¯s.


    ¡°It certainly is harmless, but it is high enough for a father to worry for his daughter.¡±


    The lady stifled a giggle. ¡°Oh, Father. That claim would be so much more believable had you any real concern for my well being.¡±


    It was the most scandalous line to have ever come out of her mouth. Ripples of noise coursed through the crowd, but her father remained stoic.


    ¡°Whatever has you in this foul mood today?¡± The man cast a glance at one of his teaching assistants, who nodded knowingly, before walking towards his daughter and placing a palm on her shoulder. It was a familiar signal, but she was tempted to ignore it. There would be no hell to pay, no matter how much she defaced their public images. She was no longer Claire Augusuts in the world¡¯s eyes, after all.


    Still, the lyrkress begrudgingly played along and vacated the space. She had wanted to scream at him, not his dumb facade.


    ¡°Oh, nothing at all, Father,¡± she said, with the brightest smile she could manage. ¡°Save, perhaps, for the fact that you made an attempt to offer my life as tribute.¡±


    They walked through two sets of sliding doors, one to take them into the building, and another to enter another outdoor space. Claire was tempted to grab one of the handles and return to her body while she still had her chance, but her pulsing rage stayed her hand. Her mind was flooded with indignance, the very same frustration and despair she had felt immediately following his betrayal. She was so annoyed that she wanted to reach for his throat and strangle him, even though she knew it to be an exercise in futility.


    The courtyard they moved to was of a particularly large size. In the summer, it would have been packed to the brim with exotic plants from all over the continent, but they were taken away in the winter, leaving it a dreary scene with nothing but waist deep snow. Slowly, they walked across the field and made their way to the gazebo at its center. The wooden structure was elevated off the ground, just high enough that none of the snow sullied its floor.


    Her father pulled out a pair of seats, one for cervitaurs like himself, and another for humanoids like the cottontails, before speaking in his usual, emotionless voice. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have, if you were always this bold.¡±


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Claire¡¯s hands were shaking under the table, but her voice was kept perfectly steady. ¡°You threw my life away for nothing.¡± It was her first time speaking out against him; it took recalling the enemies she had slain, the illusion that the borrok had conjured, to force herself to continue. ¡°You didn¡¯t even need the curse to bring Kryddar to its knees.¡±


    Though the two countries had come to amicable terms of ceasefire, there were none so foolish as to believe that the treaty had been signed on equal terms. Even the Vel¡¯khanese had heard the news: Virillius had single-handedly defeated the Kryddarian army. It was rumoured that he killed over a hundred thousand by himself, that he cleaved through the Silken King¡¯s undying legion and thrashed him in a duel. Claire knew, of course, that the tales the bards told had been exaggerated as they passed between singers and borders, but whatever the case, the results were clear. Cadria had repelled the Kryddarian threat with hardly a casualty under its belt.


    ¡°It was the right thing to do.¡±


    Again, her emotions flared when he spoke, but by slowing her breathing, she was just barely able to fight them back.


    ¡°Sacrificing your daughter was the right thing to do?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He returned her stare with one of his own. ¡°I will be frank, Claire. No assault led by King Ragnar can be defeated without the zombification of his men. And any clash between his nation and ours, with him at the forefront, can lead only to the mutual destruction of both our lands.¡±


    King Ragnar Unfrid¡¯s signature ability was one known to all. There were only a few minutes in each day that the man could be killed, and he could easily extend the associated effect to any individual within his line of sight. It was ridiculously unfair, but such was the way of the aspect. Every single one of them had an absurd racial ability bestowed upon them at the moment of ascension.


    ¡°You single-handedly destroyed him.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, but he knew I could. For him to challenge us in spite of that suggests that he had discovered a workaround, some sort of method to ensure that his country would not be destroyed in retaliation. I sent hundreds of spies to determine what it was, but none of them were successful in retrieving any meaningful information.¡±


    She could already tell what he was going to say next. It was another one of his classic manipulation tactics. He would make her feel responsible, guilty even, with a veil of fake sincerity. She had seen it in action a thousand times, used on the various ministers that came to visit the manor.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to tell me that you didn¡¯t have any other choice.¡± That was why she said the words in his place. She allowed them to slip from her lips as she threw away her mask and visibly grit her teeth. ¡°But that¡¯s just an excuse. An empty lie.¡± Claire glared at him, her eyes filled with all the hatred and resentment she had bottled up over the past decade. ¡°I know what you¡¯ve always thought of me. You were the one who taught me to read faces. It was one of the few things that you admitted I was good at.¡±


    ¡°Clai¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t ¡®Claire,¡¯ me,¡± she snarled. ¡°Not when you haven¡¯t seen me since Mother passed.¡± She rose from the table and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him down to eye level. ¡°You have the whole country at your beck and call. Everyone thinks you¡¯re some sort of gift from the gods, that you¡¯ll answer all their prayers and bring prosperity to this worthless, barren land. But really, you¡¯re just a shell of a man, a sorry excuse for a warrior that¡¯s thrown away everything just to hide behind a false pretense of responsibility.¡±


    She was fuming. But he was indifferent.


    ¡°You won¡¯t even look at me for who I am.¡±


    Her body was shaking like a leaf in the wind, and her breathing was shallow, incapable of filling her fake lungs with air. She tried to stop her eyes from moistening, to stop herself from looking weak in front of him, but they wouldn¡¯t listen.


    ¡°I¡¯m looking at you now,¡± he said, calmly, ¡°and all I see is a child that¡¯s yet to mature.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s always about the inadequacies with you.¡± Her voice started loud, but quieted quickly into a lifeless whisper.


    ¡°Clair¡ª¡±


    ¡°I said, don¡¯t ¡®Claire,¡¯ me!¡± She crunched her teeth together, hard enough to snap her fangs. ¡°Every time you saw me, it was nothing but criticism, pointless whining about one tiny imperfection or another. The only thing you¡¯ve ever told me is that I¡¯m not good enough. And you know what? You¡¯re right. I¡¯m not.¡± Taking deep breaths, the lyrkress gradually loosened her grip on his collar and pushed him back into his seat. ¡°But one day, I will be. And when that day comes, I will do everything in my power to burn Cadria to the ground.¡±


    It was only with her final statement that the man reacted. Slowly, he allowed an eerily gentle smile to form on his face. It wasn¡¯t because he was confident or entertained, nor even because he thought anything of the threat. He almost seemed wistful, his ever steady eyes wavering as he firmly clasped his hands together.


    ¡°What?¡± she asked, her eyes narrowed.


    ¡°You really are the spitting image of your mother.¡±


    Her fist flew straight into his throat. She punched him as hard as she could, ice protruding from her knuckles, and her body propelled by a series of complex vectors. There was even a pinch of divinity packed into the blow, as much as the connection could allow.


    He was completely unharmed. The attack didn¡¯t even pierce his skin.


    But the homunculus¡¯ body was unable to suffer the strength of the recoil. Its jelly-like limb exploded, scattering its pitch black contents all over the yard.


    ¡°You have no right to speak of Mother,¡± hissed the snake. ¡°You left her to die and for what? ¡®Duty?¡¯¡± She spat out her broken teeth. They were getting in the way of her words. ¡°Her blood lies on your hands, Father. You threw her away like a tool, just to play soldier with some worthless quack of a warrior. I should¡¯ve known, even back then, that you¡¯d do the same to me.¡±


    ¡°Clair¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡± Claire rose from her seat again and stomped her way towards the building. ¡°Don¡¯t talk to me."


    Virillius watched silently as she waltzed over to the nearest door and promptly went limp. She picked herself up again soon after, albeit with a completely different aura about her. The rage was purged from her lips, replaced not with the usual indifference she sported, but a completely different kind, one far more genuine and easy to read. She was gone; control of her vessel had been returned to his creation.


    The man, the father, could only breathe a heavy-hearted sigh as he recognized that there was no calling her back. She had promptly escaped after mouthing him off and delivering a dozen strikes beneath the belt.


    ¡°I thought you said she¡¯d listen if I let her finish.¡±


    The one-armed fake bowed her head.


    ¡°No, no. You¡¯re not at fault.¡± There was a weary smile on his face. Her words coursed through his mind when he closed his eyes, the bitter insults that he couldn¡¯t quite deny. ¡°I suppose violence will have to do.¡±

 Chapter 232 - Horses, Goats, and Basements V

    Chapter 232 - Horses, Goats, and Basements V


    Claire clenched her remaining fist as she stomped her way through the snow and approached the nearest door. When she turned it, she abandoned the fake¡¯s body immediately, escaping into the void and beyond her father¡¯s reach. She was fed up; she had always thought that it would be worth giving him a piece of her mind, that overcoming her fear of the man that had raised her would finally bring her solace. But even having punched him in the face, she felt nothing of the sort. Everything about the interaction had ticked her off. She hated how he had suddenly decided to face her with mock sincerity. She hated how he had acted like he knew how her mother felt. And most of all, she hated that he had acknowledged her.


    Log Entry 34928


    Your disownment has been overturned. You have reprised the family name ¡°Augustus.¡±


    Log Entry 34929


    You have been titled ¡°The First Princess of Cadria.¡±


    The goddess¡¯ voice did little to appease her rage. She wanted nothing more than to scream in the void, but she stopped herself short when she realised that the darkness was coming apart. It was shaking, almost violently cracking apart at the seams. When she blinked again, it was gone, replaced by a blurry fox with a pair of equally blurry paws.


    ¡°Claire? Helllooooooo? Claaaaire?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± She extended an arm and pushed the fuzzy critter away.


    ¡°Well uhmmm¡­ it kinda looked like you were having a bit of a bad dream, but I couldn¡¯t really wake you up, and peeking in your head just gave me a really garbled mess.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnn¡­ if you say so.¡±


    Sylvia gave her a bit of a concerned look before silently curling up in her lap and returning her eyes to the arena. When Claire followed suit, she found that the lobster and his chair-shaped coconspirator were gone, replaced by a pair of humanoid crocodiles, each wielding a pair of giant sporks. It was a ridiculous, low-leveled fight. But some part of her was relieved, thankful even, for the change of pace.


    Her mood gradually brightened up over the course of the day. None of the fighters she watched had been particularly skillful, but their matches were not without suitable value as entertainment. The caveat was that she had to enjoy them in a manner unlike that of which she was accustomed. Cadrian arena matches were dishes to be savoured, slowly digested and broken down like works of art. Vel¡¯khanese duels were closer to plays than they were real fights, and as such, were best observed with disbelief suspended and undue analysis cast aside.


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t anywhere near as bad as you made it sound.¡± Sylvia paddled down the street, slowly navigating the underwater world in one of her everything-but-divinity-proof bubbles. ¡°I know they were pretty weak and stuff, but I had loads of fun!¡±


    ¡°It was better than I thought it¡¯d be,¡± agreed the lyrkress.


    They had just departed from the oversized arena. It was roughly one block behind them, its massive figure still present in nearly every reflection. Above the surface, the sun was lightly dyeing the heavens in a mix of oranges and blues, but its colour was hardly relevant to those that lived beneath the waves. The city streets were over a hundred meters below sea level, and with the ice and snow piled up above, the glowing ball in the sky was invisible at nearly every time of day. Replacing it as the main light source were the many magical lamps scattered all over the city. They were built into every building, suspended along every major pathway, be it on the seafloor or well above it.


    ¡°Is Cadria¡¯s really that much better?¡±


    ¡°A hundred times at least,¡± said Claire. ¡°The fights aren¡¯t scripted or choreographed, and the crowds care a lot more about the results.¡±


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­ I guess that does sound a good bit more fun. The only other arena I¡¯ve ever really seen was the one run by the borroks, but it was always kinda weird and boring and stuff.¡±


    Recalling the same cetacean-burned structure, the lyrkress turned her eyes on her shard and began changing its shape. ¡°Do you think they rebuilt it? After I made the volcano erupt.¡±


    ¡°Mhm! I¡¯m actually pretty sure Borrok Peak reset like the day after you boomed it, ¡®cause everything was a mess. It was an instance anyway, and Al doesn¡¯t even acknowledge their civilization. They¡¯re kinda just there to give torches levels.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t surprise me in the slightest,¡± said Claire, with a small smile. ¡°Alfred has no respect for anythi¡ª¡±


    She shut her mouth and cut herself off when her ears caught a familiar voice. Following the sounds, she looked down the street to find a pair of winged centaurs slowly walking across the sandy sea floor. One was a large, bored-looking male with a lute on his belt, and the other a tiny female with a reputation that preceded her.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire? Is something wrong?¡±


    The lykress placed a finger in front of her mouth. She used her ears to gesture at the incoming horse people while she sucked her lower half back into her tail and assumed a humanoid form. As far as she was aware, Mariabelle and the marquis were the only two that knew she could speak fox-free, and she wasn¡¯t about to let the orange cat out of the bag. Even if she had just spoken aloud to her father and his men.


    ¡°Ohhhhhh¡­¡±


    Centaurs had never been an uncommon sight in Vel¡¯khagan; there were a few forest-dwelling species indigenous to the area, and the Cadrian warship had brought thousands of visitors along with it. But even then, the thrice-ascended Lieutenant Silvanus and her dumb-looking aide stood out like sore thumbs. Most horse people stayed out of the water. Some of the maids and other non-combatants would occasionally don respirators and head below the waves for one chore or other, but the ascended hated the way the water logged their wings. It was not moisture itself that was problematic; they could fly without trouble even in heavy rain, but the salty sea washed away the natural oils produced by their flight feathers. Even a quick dip ensured that they would require an extended break to regain their ability to fly.


    ¡°G¡¯evening, Lady Augustus.¡±


    The lieutenant spoke through her respirator as their paths crossed. It hadn¡¯t taken much for the officer to spot the Cadrian royal in the crowd; she was just as much of an outlier, given that they were surrounded almost entirely by fish.


    Keeping her mouth shut, Claire nodded at the saluting soldiers, moving only her neck to show respect but no deference. She would have gladly shifted into walking away right after, but the tiny, child-sized officer continued before she could.


    ¡°Mind if we chat for a sec? It¡¯ll be quick.¡±


    Claire tilted her head, as if to silently ask what the other woman needed. Internally, however, she was fuming up a storm. The last thing she wanted, right after dealing with one obnoxious Cadrian, was to immediately subject herself to another.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°It turns out that elvish rat escaped, after you went through all the trouble of catching her for us,¡± said the vertically-challenged horse. ¡°We¡¯ll whip the men into shape for next time.¡±


    Claire smiled and nodded, as if to say that it was no problem at all.


    Unlike her countrymen, the lengthy moose knew the exact details of the elf¡¯s fate. She had gone back to retrieve him and his skeletal lover following the warship¡¯s departure. Because they hadn¡¯t been teleported, the Cadrians had presumed them both dead at first. A sane person in his situation would surely have leveraged the opportunity to flee the country, but he purchased himself a respirator and committed to taking jobs under the water. She had caught a glimpse of him again just the other week, and though somewhat overworked, he was otherwise doing more or less alright. Alas, she was not the only one to have detected his continued existence.


    ¡°Oh, yes, and speaking of animals¡­¡±


    The horse looked just behind the moose, where all three critters were casually floating about. Sylvia was more or less participating as a listener, while Boris and Marcelle were staring off into space. From an outsider¡¯s perspective, it looked as if the latter two were drugged. Only to their closest relations was it clear that they were engaged in another one of their contests. Specifically, they were playing a game where the first to react to any external stimulus would be crowned the loser. They were not even moving on their own; Sylvia was dragging them along with a pair of vectors.


    ¡°Is it just me, or do you like collecting the weird ones?¡±


    Claire took a moment to observe the mare¡¯s knowing grin before responding with a nod.


    ¡°You¡¯re in luck then,¡± said the lieutenant. Her subordinate jabbed her in the side when she started to speak, but she caught his elbow and continued without pause. ¡°You might want to check out the northern wharf. There¡¯s a store called the Red Spider, and I hear it¡¯s stocking some pretty fun creatures out back. Might be discounted too, since they can¡¯t get ¡®em anywhere with the sea as hard as a rock.¡±


    The blueblood lifted her skirt and performed a brief curtsy.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± said the mare, with another grin. ¡°Now, we¡¯ve gotta be going. Me and the kid here are in the middle of chasing down a knife-ear.¡±


    Claire nodded again to bid the saluting soldiers a silent farewell and immediately continued on her way.


    ¡°Are you insane, Lieutenant!? What¡¯s wrong with you!¡± The aide began to shout after just ten paces, his voice more than loud enough for any would-be naive noble ladies to overhear. He made no attempts to hide the fact that he was trying to get her attention, his eyes constantly shifting over to check if she was listening. And it was precisely because he tried so hard that she pretended not to notice.


    ¡°Nothing, kid,¡± replied the spinster. ¡°You just have no idea how the world works.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t pin this on me! You¡¯re the one that just told the god damned general¡¯s, err, former general¡¯s daughter to deal with a group of outlaws!¡±


    ¡°Bah, they¡¯re just pirates. What¡¯s the worst that could happen?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know? Kidnapping? Rape? Murder? I swear to Vella, Lieutenant! Our heads are going to roll if the king of all fucking people has to pay a ransom!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been reading too many novels lately, haven¡¯t you? Trust me kid, those books¡¯ll have your head spoiled rotten.¡±


    While the two military officers bickered, Claire began rising through the water with her eyes due north. It was everything the ensign had feared; his boss had sparked her curiosity, and she had immediately set off to speak to the outlaws in question. She hadn¡¯t had any other destinations in mind, and a curious pet shop sounded like plenty of fun.


    The meter-thick blanket of ice that covered the ocean parted when she approached it, opening a valley just large enough for the lyrkress and her entourage to squeeze through. Even for the qiligon and her telescopic eyes, it was difficult to spot the northern wharf through the storm. The calming flurry had grown throughout the afternoon, slowly picking up in speed and power until it was turned into a roaring blizzard. There was so much snow twisting through the air that all three of the group¡¯s unbubbled members were immediately covered in a thick white sheet of sleet.


    Claire was tempted to turn around and head right back down into the water. She had known that it was precipitating, and the ice was fairly see-through, but the snow piled up on top had prevented her from judging the downpour¡¯s ferocity. Spotting the giggling fox, however, led her to immediately close the rift behind her.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I know you have that whole ice resistance thing going, but are you sure you¡¯re not cold?¡±


    Sylvia blew away the snow that covered the other girl¡¯s head and rested her bubble on top of it.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± Claire raised her tail to her face and wiped it clean with the tentacle¡¯s fluffy, brush-like tip. ¡°But Marcelle might be.¡±


    At a glance, the manatee seemed fine. She was hovering in the air, the same way she always did, but her body had started changing colours, going from a neutral gray to a deep, frosty blue. It looked like Boris was on track to win the contest by way of outside influence, but she was somehow hanging in, refusing to lose consciousness even with the light faded from her eyes.


    ¡°Oh crap!¡± Sylvia scrambled out a tune and expanded her bubble to encompass the whole party. ¡°Sorry Marc, I forgot sea cows only liked warm water.¡±


    ¡°Not Marc, Marcelle,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Same difference!¡±


    The blubbery ball in question recovered quickly in the warm, enclosed space. Her fins regained their usual colour, and her eyes, while still dumb and clearly lacking in thought, once again began to house at least some degree of sentience. Once convinced that the flying sofa was suffering no more, Claire resumed walking her way towards the shore. The ice was quite slippery, given the smoothness of its surface, but the snow that coated it left it easily traversable, even without her talons.


    One might assume that, with a barrier around the city, the blizzard could easily be repelled and made a moot concern. And while that was certainly true, it was not an approach that a smaller nation could afford to select. Those that happened to be built on natural veins of magical energy could easily pull the feat off without incurring any costs. Ley lines, however, were not by any means commonplace, and few of them provided the right conditions for use. Most, like the vein in Farenlight¡¯s Den, were placed within dungeons whose monsters would disrupt their installation and maintenance. The pipes had to be made primarily of living matter for them to avoid being absorbed, and the commonly used tube-worms were sure to break if assaulted by anything over level twenty.


    Those without an unlimited supply of ether would have to resort to powering the barriers with batteries, the creation of which was a budget-breaking expense even for the richest municipal governments. Storms were particularly draining due to the sheer weight of all the piled up snow and the number of tiny projectiles that made contact with the barrier. It made far more financial sense to allow the ice to sweep through, especially for cities like Vel¡¯khagan, which had so many of its districts located well beneath the waves.


    It didn¡¯t take long for Claire to grow sick of walking. She spread her wings after about five minutes of ploughing through the chest-deep snow and soared straight to her destination. Even flying at a leisurely pace, she reached the northern wharf in no time flat, but realised as she looked down upon it that she had no idea where the store was meant to be.


    The dock was a large piece of land that jutted out into the water; there were dozens of ships moored outdoors, and even more of them sitting inside the roofed docks that lined the pirate-infested peninsula. Of course, not all of the vessels that passed through the dock were operated by criminals, in fact, the grand majority was standard civilian traffic, but that was precisely why it had been made the outlaws¡¯ wharf of choice. They could easily blend in with the various ships that came and went.


    On a drier day, Claire could have easily asked a local for directions, but there were hardly any of them out and about. The storm was much heavier than what the Vel¡¯khanese were accustomed to, and as such, the vast majority of the land-dwelling population had sought shelter indoors, overcrowding the taverns and eateries to the point that they were ready to burst. There were plenty of people to ask underwater, given how deep the seas were in the dock¡¯s immediate vicinity, but Claire chose to wander around instead.


    There was something magical about navigating the empty streets, especially knowing how busy they normally were. It almost felt like she and her pets were all that was left, a feeling that she was happy to embrace.


    Eventually, after making a dozen wrong turns and leaving her footprints all over the snow, the lyrkress arrived in front of the store in question. It was a small, brightly lit shop with three stories to its name. Its entrance was half buried; she had to dig it out in order to access the door.


    But even then, she found that it refused to budge.


    Confused, she pushed and pulled on it again, but it never once abided by her orders.


    It was only when she looked at it again, and carefully observed the sign, that she came to understand the reason behind her predicament.


    The door was locked. Because the shop was closed for the next day and a half. All on the grounds of poor weather.

 Chapter 233 - Horses, Goats, and Basements VI

    Chapter 233 - Horses, Goats, and Basements VI


    Sylvia stifled a laugh as she watched her pet knock persistently on the old wooden door. The frosted glass panes that adorned it were hard to see through, but the pair could clearly make out a bright light shining within. Someone was inside, sitting at the front desk and working on some task or other.


    ¡°They¡¯re ignoring us,¡± said Claire, with her eyes narrowed.


    ¡°Well yeah, silly! The sign says they¡¯re closed!¡± said the fox. She was trying her best not to laugh on account of worsening the qiligon¡¯s already sour mood¡ªan endeavour that saw a minimal amount of success. The occasional giggle squeezed its way out of her throat, with each eliciting a miffed twitch from the cushion beneath her.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to break this stupid door down if they keep pretending not to hear us.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I¡¯m not really sure that¡¯s the best idea,¡± said the fairy. ¡°Wait! Aren¡¯t you a rogue? Can¡¯t you just pick the lock or something?¡±


    Rogues not named Claire had the tendency to avoid direct confrontation. Stealth was key to their operations, and lockpicking was an important skill in which their kind was particularly well versed. It was the dexterity stat that drove one¡¯s ability to perform the necessary feats of fine motor control, and the lyrkress had far more than was required. It only stood to reason that she had the means to excel at the basic class function, but while she had gathered, from the various plays she had seen, that picking a lock constituted sticking some sort of object inside its key hole, she had no idea how to get past the mechanism. Filling it with ice didn¡¯t quite seem to do the job, and neither did crafting a mold to perfectly fit its interior. This too prompted a giggle from her hat, much to her frustration and dismay.


    She was on the verge of giving up and snapping the door¡¯s hinges when she heard a pair of feet approach from the other side. The lock was undone and the knob twisted a moment later, revealing a less-than-enthused woman with large bags under her eyes. She had pale, almost unhealthy-looking skin, a full head of curly brown hair, and an almost humanoid body with the legs of a chicken, the tail of a dolphin, and a pair of large, leather wings hanging off of her hips.


    ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± she asked, her arms crossed. They seemed to function as a second pair of pinions; there were countless large feathers growing out from the otherwise human limbs.


    The lockpicker, who had risen to her feet before the woman opened the door, tilted her head innocently. ¡°Knocking.¡±


    Sylvia nearly broke into a laughing fit when presented with the blatant lie, but somehow choked it back with both her front paws holding her snout shut.


    ¡°Last I checked, knocking did not involve trying to pick the lock,¡± said the siren lady.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Oh, for the love of the gods¡­¡± The clerk took to cursing at first, but her expression softened when she glanced over the animals. She lowered her face, rubbed her eye bags, and massaged the bridge of her nose before stepping out of the doorway and ushering the group inside. ¡°Fine. Come in.¡±


    It was difficult to determine the woman¡¯s role at a glance. Her clothes were embroidered and generally of too high a quality to belong to an average employee, but she didn¡¯t quite seem to be the owner either; she had let up far too quickly for someone that supposedly dealt regularly with outlaws. Looking around, Claire saw no immediate signs of her shady dealings. It was a normal pet shop. The puppies and kittens that sat in the glass displays were excited to see the visitors. The tiny, newly hatched tuberi lazed about in a warm, candle-lit corner, while birds of all shapes and sizes sat in the cages hanging from the ceiling.


    ¡°Wow! This place is super neat,¡± said Sylvia. She began to drool as she floated over to a fancy fish tank and stared at its terrified occupants.


    ¡°No eating.¡± The fox nearly reached into the glass, but a force dragged her back to her usual position before any of the exotic fox bait could find itself swimming in acid.


    There was a staircase at the end of the nearest aisle, sporting a sign claiming that the supplies and feed were kept on the second floor. Claire was immediately gripped by the urge to explore it, but the clerk, who had closed and locked the door behind her, exuded a silent pressure that demanded the lyrkress¡¯ attention.


    ¡°So? Which of them is sick?¡±


    The statement was met with a silent tilt of the head. The bewildered moose blinked, first at the clerk, and then the manatee already being examined with a candle and a tongue depressor, before finally speaking aloud. ¡°Sick?¡±


    ¡°Sick, injured, whatever,¡± said the bird-fish.


    ¡°None of them are sick or injured,¡± said Claire. ¡°Why would they be?¡±


    ¡°Why else would you be bothering me in the middle of the storm?¡±


    ¡°To shop.¡±


    The feathered fish once again pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°I should¡¯ve just kept the door shut.¡± She took off her gloves and shoved them into her overalls¡¯ front pockets before making her way back over to the desk. ¡°Be quick about it. Get whatever the hell you came for and get out.¡±


    ¡°Well uhmm¡­ about that¡­¡± Sylvia stuck out her tongue and scratched the back of her head. ¡°We¡¯re not actually here for anything specific.¡±


    ¡°Then get the hell out!¡± The clerk pointed to the door as she buried her face into her forearms and groaned a dozen complaints before suddenly snapping to attention. ¡°Wait. Did the fox just talk?¡± She looked at Claire first and the speaker second.


    ¡°Mhm! I¡¯ve been talking this whole time,¡± said the vixen.


    ¡°Must¡¯ve been the mushrooms. How many times have I told that damn old imbecile not to cook everything he finds?¡± The grumbling vet walked over to the counter, grabbed a tiny flask labeled Schizoaway and drained its contents. She shook and shuddered as soon as it slid down her throat, her frame glowing orange as the medicine worked its magic.


    ¡°Hey! That¡¯s rude as heck!¡± cried the vixen. ¡°I¡¯m not imaginary!¡±


    The siren glanced at the fox before checking the vial¡¯s label and flipping it over to ensure that it was empty. ¡°I guess not,¡± she said, with a hand pressed against her temple. Her eyes slowly shifted across the room and settled on the other two pets. ¡°Can they talk too?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Of course not. Why would they be able to talk?¡±


    ¡°Why indeed?¡± She fell forward on the desk and buried her face in her arms. ¡°Please leave. I have too much work on my hands to be dealing with this right now.¡±


    ¡°Once we¡¯ve finished browsing,¡± said Claire, from the other side of the store. She was staring into one of the terrariums, her eyes focused on a less metallic, dumber-looking Boris with two tails. Both lizards joined in on the spontaneous activity. The cow-mounted weapon stared at the tiny iguana in the box, while the much smaller lizard focused its eyes on the reflection produced by the blade¡¯s glimmering surface.


    ¡°What kinda work?¡± asked Sylvia.


    The bird-shark breathed a sigh. ¡°Every kind. More of it than you could possibly imagine.¡± She lifted a fat stack of documents out from under the table and plopped it on the counter. ¡°It¡¯s tax season, we have to do inventory, and there¡¯s an upcoming audit. Not to mention all the sick animals that I have to take care of, day in and day out.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnn¡­ That doesn¡¯t sound very fun, but I can help if you let me eat all the fish in that tank.¡± The furball pointed at the first display that had grabbed her attention.


    ¡°Very funny,¡± said the vet. ¡°How about you leave now?¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a joke! I was being serious!¡± cried the fox. ¡°And stop trying to kick us out! That¡¯s just mean!¡±


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°It¡¯s not mean, it¡¯s warranted. If you¡¯d like me to be mean, I can call the town guard and have you thrown out.¡±


    ¡°I would suggest calling the two downstairs instead, if they were awake.¡± Having walked a full circle around the store, Claire returned to the counter in a slightly better mood.


    The siren flinched. ¡°W-what are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°The ones watching the funny animals. Like the things that keep making snorting sounds,¡± said Claire. ¡°Don¡¯t play dumb. I can hear them.¡±


    The vet twisted her face, somewhat perplexed. ¡°Of course you can.¡± She grabbed another flask, labeled Antinapitis, and tucked it into one of her pockets while walking out from around the counter. ¡°Stay here.¡±


    Her leathery waist wings trailing behind her, she walked to a particular spot right beside the largest fish tank and gave it a good old kick. It took her a few tries to displace the floorboard and uncover a large green hatch.


    ¡°Dad!¡± She twisted it open to reveal a gentle slope that led into a wide, underground corridor. ¡°There¡¯s someone here to see you!¡± Surely enough, both the guards, who were sitting against the walls where the ground flattened out, were sound asleep.


    ¡°Just a second!¡± said a voice, from further in the bunker.


    One of the armed men snapped awake upon hearing the exchange. ¡°W-w-w-w-whazzat!? Are we under attack!?¡± He leapt three feet into the air, and jabbed his trident into the ceiling as he blubbered a train of half coherent words. He tried to brandish his weapon when he spotted the unfamiliar face, but it was stuck in the wood and refused to budge when he pulled.


    ¡°Oh, for the love of¡­¡±


    The men underwent an immediate change when sprinkled with the desk-lady¡¯s potion. The one that was already awake suddenly turned lucid and composed himself. He even seemed to, for whatever reason, grow a beard. It didn¡¯t quite seem to fit his aesthetic, given that he was a floating jellyfish, but it certainly did aid in identifying the location of his face. Once calmed, he stroked his beard with one tentacle while easily removing the trident from its prison.


    His partner went through a far more drastic transformation. Leaves and flowers sprung from the wilted bush¡¯s branches to form something that vaguely resembled a face. The greenery was crafted into a moustache, while the whites and oranges that made up the floral petals were turned into his features. Like his partner, he was fully alert, and for whatever reason, playing with his beard.


    ¡°We don¡¯t pay you to sleep,¡± said the vet.


    ¡°You don¡¯t pay us at all,¡± said the bush-man.


    ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m the one that reports to Old Garm, so how about you shut the fuck up?¡± After leading the customers inside the underground area and confirming that a man had rounded the corner, the vet walked back up the slope and closed the hatch behind her. ¡°Knock when you¡¯re done. The owner¡¯ll be with you in a second.¡±


    The triton in question rolled himself down the corridor, with a lamp in one hand, and his wheelchair¡¯s tire in the other. He was not lame or crippled, but rather simply lacked the legs that his daughter happened to possess. As a merman, he could easily replace his fishy tail with a pair of land-limbs, but his kind was generally not fond of using their feet. The lack of buoyancy left them feeling awkward and uncomfortable, save for when they were at rest.


    ¡°Hello, hi, welcome, sorry for the delay,¡± he said, as he wiped the blood off his glasses. ¡°Mind showing me your emblem before we begin?¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°Emblem?¡±


    ¡°Yes, your emblem.¡± The triton frowned. ¡°The one that lets me know if you have someone vouching for you.¡±


    The incline of Claire¡¯s head was changed by exactly three quarters of a degree.


    ¡°Okay, how about this¡­¡± The slightly wrinkled merman crossed his arms. ¡°Who told you about this place?¡±


    ¡°Oh, oh, I can answer that one!¡± Sylvia stood up and raised a paw. ¡°It was some tiny horse lady! She said there¡¯s lots of weird animals and probably thought we¡¯d have fun!¡±


    ¡°I see¡­¡± He seemed to take a moment to ponder. ¡°And your relationship to this horse lady is?¡±


    ¡°None of your business,¡± said Claire. She glanced at the two guards and crossed her arms. ¡°Now show us the merchandise.¡±


    The man looked between the girl and the guards before shrugging. ¡°Fine, guess it can¡¯t hurt for you to look,¡± he said. ¡°But any funny business and you get a spear in the back.¡±


    Not bothering to respond, Claire silently followed the man as he wheeled down the hall. They skipped the first intersection, which seemed to lead to something along the lines of an office with few people inside of it, and walked to the far end of the corridor. On the left was a large open room filled with a number of cages, while the right had a hall featuring dark cells instead.


    ¡°Browse all you want,¡± said the man. ¡°Prices are on the collars. Non-negotiable, unless you manage to get your hands on an emblem. Now if you¡¯ll excuse me, I was in the middle of dealing with another set of customers. Have one of the guards grab me if you want to make a purchase.¡±


    Nodding, Claire wandered down the hall on the right and turned her eyes on the cells within. The first was where all the snorting had come from. It contained large, rotund mammals covered in tiny hairs. It was difficult to say how intelligent the goblins were. Some of their subspecies were at least somewhat sentient, but all of the individuals present behaved exactly like pigs. They even had elongated, cylindrical noses strapped to their faces and tiny tails pinned to their rears.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­¡± Sylvia pressed a paw against her chin. ¡°What the heck?¡±


    The next cage was hardly any better. It contained nothing but a small whale dressed in a set of fancy robes. She appeared to conduct herself as would a high class courtesan, greeting the lyrkress with a bow before breaking into an interpretative dance. But not even this was as egregious as the third, which contained a whole pack of big-butted goats, which according to the sign at least, were known for being violently affectionate.


    ¡°I think we¡¯re in the wrong place,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°This seems a lot more like the kinda thing that¡¯d be up Al¡¯s alley.¡±


    ¡°Definitely,¡± agreed Claire. She briefly glanced down the other hall before turning back the way they came.


    And it was right as they made this turn that the store¡¯s owner emerged from his office with two customers in tow. She looked around for a place to hide, but there was none. She couldn¡¯t even manage a transformation in time; the other guests¡¯ eyes had been on her since the moment she spotted them. Both familiar faces had already greeted her and bowed their heads in deference.


    Just seeing them filled her with the urge to hit something or other, but she kept her calm, smiled, and had her pet speak a controlled greeting in her place.


    ¡°Lord Pollux. What a surprise. Whatever might you be doing here?¡±


    ¡°Good afternoon, Lady Augustus.¡± The marquis began by placing his hand on his chest and bowing. The teenager standing behind him offered the same greeting, albeit without anywhere near as much composure.


    Like his father, the boy had a head of fiery red hair, bright green eyes, and a fairly muscular frame. His mane was even longer than the older man¡¯s. The unfettered tresses extended so far that they would brush against his equine frame each time he took a step. It was an incredibly messy style, but it worked well with his wild demeanor.


    ¡°I just happened to be in the midst of purchasing a prize for my son.¡± The old pervert continued after flashing a brief smile. ¡°You see, he just came of age the other day, and this was the prize that he requested.¡±


    It was difficult to say, judging from the relative time of a centaur¡¯s birth, if he was to be considered an adult. Whether he successfully completed his ritual hunt was the deciding factor, and while those that were older were certainly more likely to have succeeded, the year count itself ensured very little. Technically, Claire had never gone on such a ceremonial outing, nor had she participated in any other event that would have branded her an adult, but her people would have readily considered her as such regardless. Warriors were typically thought of as responsible for their own well beings.


    ¡°How exciting.¡± Claire turned to the teenager and offered the least disgusted smile she could. ¡°Congratulations, err¡­ Critee - ohs? Critios!¡± The fox speaking in her place clapped her paws together. ¡°Your father has left many a tale in records of Cadrian an¡­tiquitae? And I doubt not that his valour will find itself ignited again in you.¡±


    ¡°T-thank you, Lady Augustus.¡±


    The teenager flushed as he stole a thousand glances at her ears. He tried to hide them, but was largely unsuccessful. Even if she hadn¡¯t noticed, it would have been obvious from the way that he flushed and fiddled with his fingers every time he dared to raise his head.


    ¡°Y-you¡¯re looking very lovely today,¡± he stuttered. ¡°W-w-wait, I don¡¯t mean that normally means that you don¡¯t, it¡¯s just I uhmm¡­ sorry.¡±


    It was not their first time meeting, nor his first time breaking down in front of her. It was precisely how they had behaved at every single banquet they had both attended, for as long as she could remember, but annoyed as she was, she did not blame him. Her ears were practically divine, after all.


    ¡°Thank you, Critios.¡± The fake smile she offered only served to fuel his nervousness. His face was red as a rose; it took him everything he had just to meet her eyes for an instant.


    She, however, was the only one smiling. The fox in her arms had a much more annoyed look on her face, and it was precisely upon seeing it that the boy turned white. Eyes wide, he ran over to the marquis and grabbed him by the hand.


    ¡°F-f-father, I think we s-should l-leave,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯d r-r-rather not make a-any purchases.¡± He then bent over and whispered to the triton. ¡°S-sorry, we¡¯ll be back later. Please keep the goats reserved. We¡¯ll pay extra.¡±


    ¡°Well in that case, I suppose I¡¯ll have to let you go,¡± said the merman, with a knowing smile.


    ¡°T-thank you,¡± whispered the teen. He took a series of deep breaths as soon as the other man was done speaking, and stood back up to his usual height whilst half shouting his words. ¡°L-lady Augustus! W-would you like to accompany us back to the m-m-manor?¡± But when he opened his eyes and looked down the hall, he found no such individual anywhere in sight. ¡°Lady Augustus?¡±


    ¡°She left while you were hyperventilating,¡± said his father.


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± The red-faced teen slumped his shoulders. ¡°At least this means we get to buy the goats.¡±


    To his dismay, however, returning to the cage led him to discover that the well-endowed antelopes had somehow lost their most defining features.

 Chapter 234 - Horses, Goats, and Basements VII

    Chapter 234 - Horses, Goats, and Basements VII


    ¡°I¡¯m starting to think I should follow through on what I told my father.¡±


    Claire¡¯s form turned humanoid as she transformed her cloak into a blouse and fell face first into the couch. Hardly a minute had passed since she had asked Sylvia to censor the goats. Of course, no harm was done to the creatures in question; the change in their body structure was a simple illusion. And while it had measures against all the usual senses, its effects would naturally fade over the course of a few days without active reapplication.


    The pair opted for an emergency escape as soon as the spell was cast, warping straight back to the hotel with Boris and Marcelle in tow. Even with the ending cut short, it had been an incredibly long and exhausting outing¡ªat least for the qiligon. Her companions were in a much better mood; the fox was cackling her heart out, the manatee was already napping next to the fireplace, and the lizard was munching on a plate. Their lack of concern, of course, was to be expected. None of them had experienced the displeasure of dealing with the psychopath she called her father.


    ¡°How much longer until dinner?¡± She very well could have checked the ever-ticking clock on the wall, but the walking chair couldn¡¯t be bothered to turn her head so far.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ we should still have another thirty minutes,¡± said Sylvia.


    The party had made no explicit arrangement for dinner, but it had become something of a habit for them to regroup at the usual place each evening. Attendance was not mandatory by any means¡ªMatthias in particular would often skip to attend to some business or other¡ªbut it had become standard practice to announce when one planned to be nonpresent, and no one had said anything during their midday meal.


    ¡°Then we should go,¡± said Claire. The countless packed eateries in the pet store¡¯s vicinity flashed through her mind as she slowly pushed herself off the face-hugging sofa. It was almost too soft to relinquish its grip, but she eventually managed to beat the accursed thing down. ¡°Half an hour might not be enough time to get a table.¡±


    Gulfweed Reef was certainly lacking when it came to selling points, but that was not to say the overly average establishment was unpopular. Its central location, only a few blocks away from the city square, ensured that it saw an impressive number of visitors. It was not uncommon for all its seating to fill, even without a storm keeping everyone indoors.


    ¡°Ohh¡­ good point.¡± Sylvia leapt off the other girl¡¯s head and landed atop the coffee table. ¡°Do you wanna walk or do you wanna gate?¡±


    Claire fought back a yawn. ¡°Gate. I¡¯m too tired to walk.¡±


    ¡°Mmmk! One super awesome fox portal coming right up!¡±


    The hat clapped her paws and ripped a small hole in spacetime. There were only a few feet between the gate and the store, but it was barely visible, obscured by the blizzard that whooshed its way into the room. Claire idly glanced at the freezing cold slop as it soaked its way into the carpet, but took her time either way. She slowly lumbered towards the door, checking her attire only as she passed through it. She couldn¡¯t be bothered righting her posture until moments before she raised a hand to the shop¡¯s entrance, not when it was too dark and stormy for her figure to be seen.


    Twisting the knob, she found her premonition confirmed. The whole place was packed. There wasn¡¯t a line or queue, but she could hardly see any open seats, and many of the tables meant for four had six or eight occupying the benches. Drunk, half-conscious men and women could be seen collapsed on the tables and sprawled out all over the aisles. Normally, it was the servers¡¯ job to clean them up, but there were so many bodies that they couldn¡¯t be bothered. The waitresses walked right over them instead, sometimes even kicking them out of the way as they went about the rest of their duties. It was no way to treat their guests, but the inebriated patrons were hardly conscious enough to complain.


    One particularly annoyed looking staff member turned towards the entrance when she saw the bell ring and waved Claire into the establishment with a jet black flipper. She handed out all the drinks on her tray before throwing the platter into a cart and beginning her journey back to the front desk. Though her face wore a perpetual scowl, the orcaped was not neglectful. She scribbled down the various orders she heard as she moved through the restaurant, and even passed a few slips of paper off to the other waitresses. It was a task made possible largely in part thanks to her biology. Each of her thirty two tentacles had something of a mind of its own and could handle simple tasks without her paying them much mind.


    ¡°Hey,¡± she said, with a curt nod. The only thing she couldn¡¯t do was act polite, but if the rumours were to be believed, her brusque nature was hardly a critical weakness. There was an entire clique of customers that visited the store just to be made the subjects of her ire. ¡°Lia¡¯s doing the usual right now, but we can clear some space for you, and the witch too if she comes.¡±


    Not particularly feeling the urge to speak, Claire responded with a silent nod and looked down at the fox trailing behind her.


    ¡°I think Ciel¡¯s gonna get here soon¡­¡± said Sylvia, as she stared out the door. Her eyes changed colours each time she blinked, shifting between shades of blue, red, green, and purple before finally returning to their usual orange. ¡°She¡¯s having a bit of trouble wading through the snow. I bet it¡¯d take her like a whole hour if she kept just walking and stuff, but she¡¯s probably gonna give up and start magicing her way over eventually.¡±


    ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll make space for her too then.¡± Windia, the orcaped, began walking towards the back of the restaurant after lazily gesturing for the pair to follow. ¡°Having the usual for drinks? Or are you feeling the special? It¡¯s basil lemon whiskey today. The old hag finally caved and opened up the barrel.¡±


    ¡°The usual¡¯s fine,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Mmmmnnn¡­ I think I¡¯m gonna try the special,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But just give me a sip.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t need to tell me twice. Last time we let you get drunk, you nearly destroyed the whole damn restaurant,¡± said the waitress. ¡°It¡¯s a wonder you aren¡¯t banned.¡±


    ¡°Hey! That wasn¡¯t even my fault!¡± the fox puffed up her cheeks. ¡°I told you guys I couldn¡¯t handle the whole drink!¡±


    The waitress smirked as she stopped in front of a booth with far too many people gathered around it. Men and women of all species watched the table with their eyes laser focused, oohing and aahing as the contestants declared their moves. Lia was facing off against a scruffy-looking huskar with a tophat and a large droopy moustache, her wits against his, atop a magically constructed field.


    The game was called Quash, and it was a fresh import that the marquis had brought with him when he arrived in his massive floating castle. In Cadria, the game was known not only as a pastime, but also a method by which a prospective commander could demonstrate their ability. The turn structure was somewhat bizarre; each player would have a phase to expand on their infrastructure and gather resources undisturbed before the two parties simultaneously declared three consecutive military actions. Once locked in, each would play out and resolve in time with the opponent¡¯s. The artifact sitting on the table ensured that both parties committed their sequential maneuvers ahead of time, but the more traditional and popular approach involved chronicling one¡¯s decisions in writing and presenting them to the other party.


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    Though certainly not an inexpensive item, the restaurant-owned artifact was not particularly costly either. As one of the cheaper varieties, it contained only a few maps on which the game could be played. The well-off preferred not to indulge in entertaining themselves with such fictional domains, and used maps of real world locations instead. The aforementioned topographical diagrams, of course, were not cheap commodities that one could simply purchase. Many lords would use highly detailed diagrams of their own lands and leverage the game to simulate attacks on their strongholds so that they could learn to better defend them.


    Claire had never quite been the game¡¯s biggest fan, but Alice, her closest friend in her birdcage days, had forced her to play it at least twice a week. She often defaulted to the very same strategy, and would throw a fit when denied the opportunity to use the calvary to its fullest. And as such, Claire had often given in and let her win. The game playing out in the restaurant, however, was nowhere near as childish. Both armies had highly varied compositions, and it was clear from a glance that the players were at least trying to leverage the whole ruleset.


    ¡°Come on, move. Out of the way.¡± The waitress grumbled as she pushed the spectators aside and grabbed a pair of unconscious drunks off the table. She threw them over the crowd with surprising strength, piling them atop a heap of groaning bodies whilst picking up their silverware with one tentacle and wiping the table down with another. ¡°There you go.¡±


    Nodding, Claire sat down beside the cat¡ªwho was too busy staring at the board to notice her¡ªand lightly prodded her in the side. When that failed to grab her attention, she covered her finger in bee venom and prepared a slightly more noticeable assault.


    ¡°Ok, so I¡¯ll just have to move myeow!¡± Natalya flew out of the seat as the nail dug into her skin, leaping so far that she attached herself to the ceiling. Her face reddened when she realised that everyone in the restaurant was staring in silence, so she dropped back down and shrank into her seat, making herself as small as possible whilst shooting the perpetrator a glare.


    ¡°What the heck, Claire!¡± Her bright green eyes shone right through her glasses, only emphasized by the blush that stained her face.


    ¡°Your fault for ignoring me,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°As you can see, I was busy,¡± huffed the cat, as she pointed at the board. ¡°That reminds me, where have you been all day anyway? You weren¡¯t in your room when I stopped by.¡±


    ¡°I was being annoyed,¡± said the lyrkress, ¡°by horses, goats, and basements.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­ I¡¯m not really sure what that¡¯s supposed to mean, bu¡ª¡±


    A fake cough cut her rant short and drew her attention back towards her opponent. The grumpy dog-man tapped the artifact and pushed it towards her. ¡°Your turn¡¯s about to end.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right, sorry,¡± said Lia, with an awkward smile. ¡°We can talk when I finish.¡± She quickly moved her pieces around before pushing it back towards her opponent. The back and forth continued, with Natalya¡¯s face growing more troubled over the course of the game.


    Fourteen turns later, the back and forth finally came to an end. ¡°It¡¯s my victory,¡± said the dog. Surely enough, the battle phase that played out on the magical display showed the troops in red completely decimating their blue counterparts. ¡°I¡¯ll be taking the deed to my villa back, if you don¡¯t mind.¡± The shop¡¯s patrons clapped and cheered, with some ordering drinks in celebration of the man¡¯s victory, and others booing and jeering as they handed their debtors their dues. The canine himself wore a look of relief.


    ¡°I guess it is,¡± Natalya adjusted her glasses with her quill and scribbled a few notes into her book before looking back at him. ¡°Would you like to go another round?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve had enough for today, thanks,¡± he said, with a chuckle. ¡°Maybe some other time.¡± He grabbed the two papers off the desk, rose from the table, and strode through the crowd while calling for a drink.


    Lia pursed her lips. ¡°This is all your fault, Claire.¡± She turned back to the lyrkress with a resentful glare. ¡°I would¡¯ve been able to take a lot more than a cheap warehouse if you didn¡¯t distract me.¡±


    ¡°What is this I am hearing about warehouses and villas?¡±


    Arciel appeared in the man¡¯s place. The moon witch grew out of the table¡¯s shadow in a way that was equal parts elegant and disturbing. She was like a moth emerging from her pupa, albeit without any of the wings.


    Knowing that the other girls¡¯ arrival signalled an end to Natalya¡¯s gambling, the bulk of the observers withdrew from the table and crammed themselves in the few open seats. Those less informed didn¡¯t immediately follow the cue, but they were dragged away by their friends, sometimes by force. Hushed explanations were given to those who asked, warning them that nothing good awaited those too curious to restrain themselves. Countless eyes began falling on Claire as the discussions finished, but she failed to see their reasoning. It wasn¡¯t her fault that violence worked so well on perverts.


    ¡°I was about to get my hands on some of that guy¡¯s property, but Claire distracted me and made me lose my train of thought, and he managed to win back the villa I snagged from him.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t blame me. You¡¯re the one that lost.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush.¡± Natalya leaned forward in her seat and rested her cheeks in her hands. ¡°I still managed to win some property from him. I don¡¯t know how much it¡¯s worth, exactly, but we can probably give it a look and find out.¡±


    ¡°And whereabouts is this property?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°Northern wharf, not too far from the docks.¡±


    The squid produced a fan from her sleeve and pressed it against her chin. ¡°Perhaps it may be worth more than you are suspecting. What did you wager against it?¡±


    ¡°That¡­¡± the cat hesitantly averted her eyes, ¡°is going to have to be a secret.¡± This, of course, earned her a series of suspicious gazes, but she brought out a series of items and distributed them in lieu of elaborating.


    ¡°What¡¯s this for?¡± asked Claire. She tilted her head as she eyed the winter hats handed out around the table. They were sewn using a thick fluffy wool dyed in a whole variety of colours. It was difficult to say that they were particularly fashionable, but they did at least look thick enough to do their job. The stitching was a little uneven in places, clearly not the work of a professional.


    ¡°I made myself a sweater and had a little extra wool,¡± said the cat. ¡°I wanted to get your input on the patterning, but you weren¡¯t home, so I just did whatever came to mind,¡± she added, as she caught the look in Claire¡¯s eye.


    ¡°Thank you, Lia. I believe I speak for us all when I say that we do appreciate the gift,¡± said the resident bloodsucker, ¡°but we are not quite sure what we are meant to do with them.¡±


    Arciel had a large, pointy witch hat already, and Claire had Sylvia. Being a hat herself, the fox had no reason to wear one.


    The cat put on a strained smile. ¡°I didn¡¯t really have enough material for anything else. It was either this, or one scarf between the three of you.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnnn¡­ maybe we could turn them into a pair of mittens?¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°No. No mittens,¡± said Claire. ¡°No mittens ever.¡±


    ¡°How curious.¡± Arciel¡¯s lips twisted into a teasing smile. ¡°Why is it that you are so put off by the thought of mittens?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a long story.¡±


    ¡°Do tell.¡±


    Claire met the squid¡¯s curious stare with one of disgust. ¡°I¡¯d rather not.¡±


    ¡°Oh, oh, I¡¯ve got this!¡± Sylvia stood up on her hind legs and began to sing. The vixen danced to and fro atop the tiny table, weaving together a beautiful scene on a dark, snowy mountain. A spotlight shone upon a familiar figure, hiding on an icy ridge, and looking over a pond with a squirrel standing center stage.


    Despite Claire¡¯s silent protests, the retelling soon began, a tale about a critter that had been drowned in a pool of dead frogs, the encounters with which had undeniably skewed a certain individual¡¯s readiness to kill.

 Chapter 235 - The Winter Festival

    Chapter 235 - The Winter Festival


    Sylvia had no idea what she was doing with all her free time. Some days, she spent running around town with her pet, while others involved little but watching over the snake as she tempered her magic and divinity. None of the events were particularly significant, and she could recall maybe a quarter at most. And yet, the days passed by at an alarming rate. The winter festival was upon them in the blink of an eye.


    ¡°Come on, everyone! Hurry up! We¡¯re gonna be late!¡±


    The tiny fairy had her arms around her mount¡¯s wrists, tugging and pulling to the best of her ability, but the horse-moose-thing refused to budge. She continued to browse a roadside caravan without any of the urgency shared by her tiny companion.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°The competition doesn¡¯t start until noon,¡± added Lia, who had joined her in sorting through the shop¡¯s wares.


    ¡°Yeah, and that¡¯s in like half an hour!¡± cried Sylvia. Her eyes were on the sun goddess, the nudity of which was hidden only by her blinding self-censor. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna make it in time if you guys keep shopping!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine,¡± repeated Claire. She ran her hands over a particularly expensive piece of armour as she dismissed the vulpine¡¯s concern. It didn¡¯t look like she was doing much, but the vertically-challenged elf could tell that she was taking her time committing its feel to memory.


    Their other three companions looked over items of a similar make. Natalya was sorting the sword section, Arciel was waving wands around, and Matthais was inspecting sheathes for his arm-scythes. And they were not alone in inspecting the shop¡¯s goods. Sellswords from all walks of life were taking their time carefully looking over its wares.


    ¡°Wait a second!¡± Sylvia darted over to the party¡¯s catgirl, who was walking over to the counter with a two-meter-long broadsword in tow. ¡°You¡¯re actually buying something?¡± she asked, eyes wide. They went even wider when she spotted the thirty silver coins on its tag.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been needing a new sword.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with yours? I thought it was supposed to be some super fancy super cool weapon that had a lot of history and stuff?¡±


    The cat lowered one of her hands and touched the rapier hanging off her waist. ¡°It¡¯s more of a keepsake. I¡¯m sure someone more graceful, like my sister, might be able to put it to good use, but I¡¯m much better with something longer and more rigid.¡±


    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you replace it earlier?¡± asked the fairy.


    The innocent question was met with an awkward smile. ¡°Good swords are expensive. I wasn¡¯t really comfortable with the state of our finances before, but we¡¯ve been doing a lot better lately.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnnn¡­¡± Still not looking satisfied, the fairy-shaped fox fluttered around the massive, two-handed blade that the bespeckled celestial-bait carried in her arms. ¡°But why this one? It looks kinda cheap compared to the stuff at the weapon shop. And it¡¯s more expensive too. Actually, why the heck are we here anyway? This place is shady as heck!¡± The claim earned her a dirty look from the owner, but she ignored it.


    ¡°It does?¡± Natalya raised the weapon again. ¡°I picked it because it seemed a little bit lighter than usual, and that normally means there¡¯s some mithril mixed in. It¡¯s in the right price range for that too.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡± Sylvia floated over to the blade and gave its handle a knock. ¡°Excuse me! What are you made out of?¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence, after which the tiny fairy responded with a slow blink. ¡°Wait, but then how are you so light?¡±


    Another pause.


    ¡°Oooohhhhhhh. Okay!¡±


    ¡°What did it tell you?¡±


    Lia had carefully watched over the entire interaction, her eyes twinkling with feline curiosity. Few seers put any work into advancing their classes, and even fewer chose the path that provided the ability to interact with the spirits that lay in all things. It was precisely because they saw the future, and its many branching possibilities, that they so often avoided the path. The soul warden class was almost impossible to acquire. It was famously known for being an option that only aspects could select, and the world beheld by its possessors was one that left most wishing for blindness. That was precisely why the owner had dismissed the fox¡¯s claims as would a prankster¡¯s antics. Aspects were not the sorts of individuals that one could find casually hanging around random street stalls, after all.


    ¡°It said that it¡¯s got a shell made of iron, but the inside is almost entirely aluminum. It might as well be hollow.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Lia raised the weapon to her head and gave it a knock. ¡°I can¡¯t tell from just messing with it. We¡¯d probably have to open it up if we wanted to know for sure.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnn¡­ gimme a sec. I think I can whip up a spell that¡¯ll let you see through stuff,¡± said the fox.


    Sylvia took a deep breath, ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± but a pinch stopped her before she could hum her tune. ¡°She¡¯s too much of a pervert to be trusted with anything like that.¡±


    ¡°I-I¡¯m not a pervert, Claire!¡± shouted the cat. ¡°I still don¡¯t know where you managed to get that misconception in the first place.¡±


    The claim of innocence was met with a silent, judging glare.


    ¡°I know!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m customizing it so that she can only see through metal.¡±


    She took another breath, but found herself interrupted yet again. The second disturbance was made not by one of her friends, but rather a very angry looking shopkeeper with a pair of bulky, shark-faced bodyguards in tow. Both kelpfins were dressed from head to toe in full plate and armed with heavy lances, but none of the party¡¯s members paid them any mind until the merchant got right up in their faces.


    ¡°One thousand silver coins,¡± he said, in a low, husky voice.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia cocked her head.


    ¡°Your false accusations are damaging my shop¡¯s reputation!¡± The armed men stepped forward at his behest, brandishing their weapons for the girls to see. ¡°Admit that you were talking out of your ass and pay me one thousand silver coins!¡±


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ no thanks?¡± said the fairy. She spun back around and pointed at the money-grubber. ¡°See! Just look at how dumb and greedy he is! I told you this place was shady as heck!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m starting to see it now,¡± said the cat, with a wry smile.


    ¡°Why the heck are you so gullible anyway? I thought you were supposed to be a blademaster or something. Aren¡¯t you supposed to be good at telling swords apart and stuff?¡±


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    ¡°I-I¡¯m good at using them,¡± said the cat, with a cough. ¡°I did think the weight distribution was a little weird, but that isn¡¯t necessarily a bad thing. I¡¯m fairly confident in my strength.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps the two of you ought to cast your eyes in the shopkeeper¡¯s direction.¡± Arciel joined the conversation with an amused smile on her lips. She pointed her fan at the man in question, who was so red in the face that he could have put a tomato to shame.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ is it just me, or is he about to have a stroke?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Get them!¡± he shouted.


    His men, however, were a little less enthusiastic about the whole affair. After looking at the confident speakers, the pair exchanged a glance, holstered their weapons, and slowly backed away with their hands in the air.


    ¡°What the hell are you doing!?¡± cried the salesman. ¡°I told you to get them!¡±


    ¡°Sorry, but no can do,¡± said one guard.


    ¡°This is out of our paygrade,¡± agreed the other. ¡°Look around.¡±


    There were certainly a few disquieted onlookers, but most were watching with more amusement than concern. Natalya had gained a bit of a reputation over the past few months, albeit one as a tamer instead of a swordsman. Being one of the few catgirls so far south of Paunse, she had been clearly identified as the crazy person responsible for the massive snake that would sometimes be seen slithering through the sky.


    ¡°Are you fucking kidding me!?¡± Blood dribbled from the man¡¯s nose as he suddenly lost balance and fell onto his side. ¡°I said get them, damn it! You¡¯re supposed to get them!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m like two hundred percent sure he¡¯s having a stroke.¡± Sylvia flew over to the man and lightly prodded him in the forehead. ¡°His brain might explode if we keep pissing him off. Anyway! Doesn¡¯t matter, we gotta go!¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Natalya put the weapon back on the shelf and bent over next to its owner. ¡°Sorry sir, are you okay? Do you need us to call someone?¡±


    ¡°You can fuck right off and give me my silver!¡± The shopkeeper¡¯s nose grew even bloodier as he shouted at the top of his lungs. He raised his arms and prepared to shout again, but a tiny foot landed square on his forehead and sent him tumbling. His eyes rolled back immediately, with all the strength leaving his body soon after.


    ¡°Stop worrying about him!¡± Sylvia zipped into the space in front of her feline friend and waved her arms wildly. ¡°We don¡¯t have any time to deal with this! The snow-thingy-building contest is already about to start!¡±


    ¡°Give me just one second.¡± Natalya lifted the man¡¯s body and propped him against the side of his caravan. ¡°I¡¯m just going to leave him to you guys,¡± she said, to his guards.


    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll get him home in a bit,¡± said one.


    ¡°Sorry about him. He¡¯s gotten a little in over his head lately,¡± said the other.


    ¡°We should be the ones apologizing for making a scene,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°Nah. Krinn¡¯s being an idiot again is all,¡± the second shark laughed as he threw his employer over his shoulder and carried him away, while his companion did the same with the cart.


    ¡°Alright! That¡¯s finally done with!¡± shouted the excited fox. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go, let¡¯s go!¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay, calm down.¡± A smile on her face, the cat rounded up her companions and resumed the trek towards their destination.


    The streets were much cleaner than they had been at the start of the week. Having finally blown their fill, the snowstorms had decided to return to their northerly domains and put an end to their harassment of the Vel¡¯khanese. The local maintenance workers took the opportunity to clean off the roads and make them presentable again, just in time for the winter festival to begin. They were ploughed, polished, and finally drizzled with specks of salt. It was a standard operation, but Claire was left with her head tilted and her ever-neutral face almost twisted in confusion. In Cadria, the approach was untenable. The streets were laminated in a thick layer of rock salt when the end of fall approached. If pellets were used, like they were in Vel¡¯khagan, some unsanitary horse or deer was likely to eat them right off the ground, but no such behaviour was observed.


    It was not just the roads that were maintained, but the aqueducts as well. The ice that covered their topmost layers was broken up, and government workers were stationed by common exits to ensure that they were not blocked by an excess of clutter.


    Their destination, however, had received no such treatment. The winter art contest was to take place in a suburban park just outside the barrier. Despite lying beyond the walls, it was generally considered a safe place where one could stroll without having to be concerned with the forest¡¯s monsters. Of course, there were rarely any powerful beasts that lurked right next to the settlement, but many appreciated how unguarded its denizens could be, especially in such a wide, open area.


    ¡°Whew! We barely made it!¡± Sylvia breathed a sigh of relief as she floated back to the group with a wooden tag in tow. ¡°The lady at the desk said that we can start heading to our places and start as soon as some important guy gives a speech.¡±


    She grew to her full, humanoid size and planted her feet in the snow as she walked towards the stage. Unlike most of the others, she was dressed in her usual summer attire. The elven tunic alone was obviously not enough to keep the cold away, so she hummed a quick tune that allowed her to stay warm, even as her bare feet trod across the snow. Claire was the only other one to dress so lightly. Lia and Arciel were wearing enchanted scarves, and Matthias had a large fuzzy cloak strapped around his lanky green shoulders. Even Marc was wearing a sweater, namely one that Lia had knitted for her in her spare time. It wasn¡¯t the prettiest thing, but neither was the sea cow, so it all worked out in the end.


    ¡°Do we have to watch this?¡± Claire grabbed the foxgirl¡¯s cheeks and tugged them as she cast her eyes on the production. There were a few men standing on the stage, but none of them were dressed well enough to be the important individual described by the receptionist. Much less clear, however, was whether the individuals in question were supposed to be on stage. They were clearly drunk out of their minds, and their singing voices were awful enough to make some of the children cry.


    ¡°I think so,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°They¡¯re gonna tell us the rules and stuff.¡±


    Surely enough, a few moments of waiting confirmed that the three bald dwarves were not officially commissioned performers. One of the organisers, a golem covered in moss, stomped his way over and shooed them off before droning on in a boring, monotonous voice.


    ¡°Thank you all for attending our seventeenth annual winter art contest. We are grateful to have you here with us today and thank the great gods and goddesses above for the clear weather with which we may mark the opening of this glorious winter festival.¡± If there was anything interesting about the speech, it was how many words he could say in a row. It was a racial trait, one that arose as a function of not needing to breathe. ¡°Our judging panel this year features a special guest, who I would like to introduce to you now.¡±


    A bulky centaur stepped onto the stage and greeted the crowd with a wave.


    ¡°Please send your regards to the honoured and kind Marquis Timaios Pollux for having flown across the sky to grace us today with his presence. This honoured guest has purchased Serenity Colosseum with several changes in mind such that he may remodel its features in the way of his countrymen and reopen it for a grand ceremony on the day of the solstice. His kindness has allowed us to grant all participants an extra reward in addition to any cash prices or vouchers that may be received based on your standing.¡±


    He went on and on, stretching what could have easily been summarised in just a few words into a ten minute-long presentation.


    ¡°Mmk¡­ so basically, we have two hours, we¡¯re not allowed to use any magic that¡¯ll shape it directly, and the final product can¡¯t be made of anything but ice and snow.¡± Having listened intently, Sylvia quickly summarized the regulations for those that couldn¡¯t be bothered.


    ¡°It sounds like it,¡± said Natalya.


    They headed towards their lot as soon as the presentation came to an end. Like most of the others, the 49th was a relatively barren space with a large pile of snow packed into one of its corners. Though it had been lifted straight off the city streets, it was surprisingly clean, sporting none of the dirt, salt, or other impurities that one would expect to see.


    ¡°So what are we going to make?¡± asked Lia. She was the only one that had volunteered to aid the fox in crafting their award-winning masterpiece, while everyone else was there mostly to enjoy the other attractions placed around the festival grounds. Claire had more or less agreed to join in after a bit of coaxing, but the organiser¡¯s speech had sent her straight to dreamland.


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure anymore,¡± replied the fox. ¡°I was gonna make a castle, but this spot looks a bit too bumpy for that.¡±


    ¡°We might still be able to build one if you give it a moat.¡±


    ¡°Mmnnnn¡­ I dunno.¡± Sylvia frowned for a moment before lighting up. ¡°Hey Ciel, are you sure you wanna sit out? ¡®Cause I just had a great idea.¡±


    ¡°I am positive,¡± said the squid. ¡°I would prefer to refrain from any activities likely to encourage sweating in such cold weather.¡±


    ¡°Awww¡­¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s this great idea?¡± asked Lia.


    Sylvia¡¯s droopy tail straightened. ¡°Right! So I had this thought¡­¡± She clapped her hands and crafted an illusory model of a certain familiar creature. ¡°We should make a giant snow Claire!¡±

 Chapter 236 - The Winter Festival II

    Chapter 236 - The Winter Festival II


    ¡°This was Sylvia¡¯s idea, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    Claire stared drowsily at a massive snowy sculpture, her lips twisted into a tiny frown. She was fairly confident that she had slept for no more than an hour, but the construct, which happened to look just like her true form, was already half complete. It wasn¡¯t their choice of model that bothered her¡ªshe was well accustomed to being painted and sculpted by famous Cadrian perverts¡ªbut rather the accuracy of the reproduction. They seemed to know exactly where every single scale would go, as well as the precise length of her ears and the exact size of her talons. Everything was done in a one-to-one scale, in spite of the fact that they had lacked a model.


    ¡°Naturally,¡± said Arciel. ¡°But if I recall, Natalya was happy to oblige.¡± The disguised tentacle monster handed the lyrkress a mug, which she readily accepted and brought to her lips.


    They were the only two sitting around the snowy lot. Sylvia and Natalya were working on the sculpture, while the others went about exploring the accompanying festival grounds. It was lined with food stalls and carnival games, bits and bites of entertainment for families in need of a break from their projects.


    ¡°Of course she was.¡± Claire hid her face behind the cup as she fought back the urge to yawn. The piping hot drink helped to alleviate her lethargy. She didn¡¯t find its sweet, bitter, and fruity notes particularly pleasant, but something about the murky bean soup filled her with energy. Any thoughts of commenting on its effect, however, were cut short when she spotted the mischievous grin on the other girl¡¯s lips.


    ¡°What did you do to it?¡±


    ¡°Why, nothing of course. I fail to see why you would make such an outlandish accusation.¡± The umbral witch followed the statement with an indignant pout, fake enough for even a child to read.


    ¡°Arciel.¡±


    ¡°I have repeated on many occasions now that Ciel shall suffice. I do not understand why you insist on avoiding my nickname.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like using nicknames.¡±


    ¡°So you claim, but I explicitly recall that you have used Lia¡¯s on occasion. I do not see why you must refuse to use mine.¡±


    ¡°Because.¡±


    Arciel placed a hand on her heart and faked a sad sniffle. ¡°How cruel a mistress you are, Lady Augustus, to reject my friendship so openly. Whatever shall I do? I think I just might send a letter to Cadria informing your father of your precise location, so that he may pick you up and free my heart from this pain.¡± The soliloquy was performed with three times the necessary emotion, exaggerated as an egregiously bad actor¡¯s rendition. And because it was so poor, it was met immediately with a flick to the forehead.


    ¡°Stop that.¡±


    ¡°I shan¡¯t, not unless you explain to me the reason that you refuse to refer to me as I would have you.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°I told you. I don¡¯t like nicknames.¡±


    ¡°Surely you would be willing to make one more exception.¡± Arciel leaned forward and gave the other girl her best puppy dog eyes, only to be flicked again. The second attack had more power than the last, carrying with it enough force to remove her tall, pointed hat.


    ¡°Stupid squid.¡±


    ¡°That is¡­ not exactly the sort of nickname I wished for, but I suppose it will have to do.¡± Arciel retrieved her signature head ornament and dusted the snow off of it with a sigh. ¡°Did your father teach you nothing of compromise?¡±


    The Cadrian twitched at the man¡¯s mention, but fought back the accompanying emotions before they could show on her face. ¡°Not in particular, no. His approaches tend to involve forcing the other party to yield. Executing hostages has always been a specialty of his.¡±


    ¡°And here I had nearly forgotten who I was speaking to.¡± Arciel shook her head. ¡°I can only imagine your childhood. It must have been quite the adventure.¡±


    ¡°And I can hardly imagine yours. It must¡¯ve happened all of sixty years ago.¡±


    ¡°How rude,¡± Arciel twisted her face into a pout. ¡°I will have you know, most of my time was spent in stasis. Hardly a decade has passed, as far as I am concerned.¡±


    ¡°Stasis?¡± Claire tilted her head.


    ¡°Stasis,¡± affirmed the witch. ¡°Members of my species rarely live for any longer than fifty years, lest we are able to accrue three ascensions. And as it did not appear possible to depose the harlot within that time frame, Griselda provided instructions to pause my vital functions for the duration of my natural life. It is a wonder that my minder has remained loyal throughout.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°That would explain why your sense of fashion is so out of date.¡±


    ¡°O-out of date!?¡± The squid broke from her melancholy with a start and hid her face behind a fan. It was a quick response, but not even the lunar-marked folding device could hide the crimson shame that ran between her ears. ¡°I-I will have you know that my fashion sense is impeccable,¡± she stuttered.


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°It is not as if yours is any better.¡± The red not yet faded from her cheeks, Arciel snapped her fan shut and lightly tapped it against the lyrkress¡¯ exposed forearm. ¡°It is wholly inappropriate to wear summer clothes in the winter.¡±


    Claire was dressed in a dark blouse that offered minimal protection from the sun. Her thighs were hidden by her skirt, and her upper arms by her sleeves, but her extremities were exposed to the cold. Not even her long, hooded cloak seemed to offer any notable insulation. The leather was far too thin and breathable for that.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said the perfectly deadpan snakemoose.


    Arciel shook her head. ¡°Why is it that you always insist on playing dumb?¡±


    ¡°It works, doesn¡¯t it?¡± the lyrkress stuck out her tongue.


    ¡°Perhaps if I was unaware of the extent of your intelligence,¡± muttered the vampire.


    ¡°What the heck, guys! Stop sitting around and lend us a hand already!¡± shouted Sylvia. ¡°This thing isn¡¯t gonna build itself!¡±


    Exchanging a pair of glances, the two noble ladies each grabbed a shovel and joined in on the massive creature¡¯s construction.


    ___


    ¡°Your total comes to nineteen points.¡±


    ¡°Huh!?¡± The declaration sent Sylvia¡¯s jaw to the floor. ¡°What the heck!? That¡¯s it!?¡±


    With the quality of the girls¡¯ handiwork, it had appeared safe to assume that they would be judged favourably. The resulting qiligon¡¯s anatomy was perfectly on point; everything from her scales to her mane to her large fluffy ears had been meticulously sculpted to look exactly like the real thing. But alas, the perfect score was a lofty fifty points. Each of the five judges could offer an evaluation ranging from zero to ten, and only the Cadrian special guest had given anything higher than a four. One of the so-called qualified art critics had even delivered a one with a mocking sneer.


    ¡°That can¡¯t be right!¡± complained the fox. ¡°Look at how nice it looks!¡±


    The mossy golem that announced the verdict¡ªthe very same one that had given the incredibly boring speech¡ªbeeped as he circled something on his clipboard and turned it towards the humanoid vulpine. ¡°As decried in both the opening ceremony as well as the advertising materials, this year¡¯s theme is nature. I can¡¯t deny the craftsmanship that accompanies your work, but I fail to see how what you¡¯ve made has anything to do with what was provided in the instructions.¡±


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    In its final form, the scene depicted that of a standoff. It was Claire against Meltys, with one looming overhead, primed for a breath attack, and the other preparing to defend with a talisman in each tentacle.


    ¡°In the first place,¡± the middle-aged rock continued after noting the fox¡¯s confusion, ¡°neither of these creatures are real. They appear highly detailed at a glance but in reality you¡¯ve just thrown a number of arbitrary concepts together with no rhyme or reason as one can easily derive from the larger creature¡¯s legs. I must ask you this, for what reason are they present? I believe this massive reptile is a wyrm at its core, however wyrms do not have any legs, let alone two randomly assigned varieties. Neither the talons nor the hooves make any sense, and even that falls short of the absurdity that is the other specimen you have created. It is unnatural and in direct conflict with the theme presented for a duck to have tentacles or stand at such a height that it would be as tall as an average sentient creature.¡±


    This claim elicited nods from most of the other judges. Only Pollux seemed to disagree, but he offered no words in the girls¡¯ defense.


    ¡°Huuuuuuh!? Are you stupid! They¡¯re totally real! You¡¯ve just never seen them before!¡±


    Sylvia shot her mount a pleading gaze, but the horse in question only shook her head. She couldn¡¯t exactly transform with Pollux staring right at her. They may have been allies in name, but she knew better than to trust him. The more cards she kept, the better the chance they had of neutralizing his schemes.


    ¡°Perhaps, but real or not, your piece would not receive a high enough score to qualify for anything beyond a participation prize, as from what I have gathered, there is no deeper meaning and it effectively illustrates the scene as it was in your mind.¡±


    ¡°What''s wrong with that!?¡± cried Sylvia.


    ¡°Art is not about the craftsmanship, it¡¯s about the intention and insight,¡± affirmed the judge.


    ¡°That makes no sense!¡±


    There was another beep. ¡°Please accept your participation prize.¡± He handed her an envelope. ¡°It contains a dozen tickets to the grand reopening of Serenity Colosseum, the time of which you will find on the card in the letter. While this is not exactly relevant to you, this competition¡¯s winning pieces will be displayed in the lobby for all to behold.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t have to rub it in!¡± Sylvia snatched the paper container out of his hands and spun around with a huff.


    She wasn¡¯t the only one miffed by the score. None of the girls felt like the judges had done their efforts justice. Arciel, however, was trying to keep a low profile, and Natalya had already had her fill of trouble for the day. Claire was bound by her unwillingness to reveal her hand, but otherwise saw no reason not to harass the judges. She stepped forward, prepared to act with her cold eyes fixed right on golem, only to be stopped by the special guest.


    ¡°While the theme was certainly ignored, I do believe this group deserves a bonus for their truly outstanding craftsmanship,¡± said the marquis. He looked at Claire for a moment before producing a slip of paper from his binder and handing it to the pouting fox. ¡°This will grant you access to VIP seating.¡±


    The golem seemed rather confused, but lowered his head in deference and refrained from commenting.


    ¡°I hope that this will serve to make your efforts worthwhile.¡± The Cadrian lord cast Claire a meaningful glance, to which she replied with a bright, bone-chilling smile. She wasn¡¯t exactly appeased, but she put an end to her advance, even as the judges turned their backs and moved away.


    ¡°Ughhh¡­ I can¡¯t believe how mean and dumb they were,¡± complained Sylvia. ¡°Ours is way better than everyone else¡¯s. I was sure we were gonna win.¡± The hair ornament had taken to the skies and scouted out the competition after wrapping up her work.


    ¡°Perhaps victory is not as far as it may appear?¡± said Arciel. ¡°They may offer similar criticisms for the rest of the works as well.¡±


    None of the other scores had been decided just yet. The judges had started from final registrants, and were slowly moving themselves down the line.


    ¡°Yeah, right,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°They said that there¡¯s no way we¡¯re winning.¡±


    ¡°These art types are really pretentious,¡± said Lia with a frown. ¡°But there isn¡¯t much we can do about it. We just have to accept it and move on.¡±


    ¡°Nuh uh.¡± The fox shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m definitely gonna give those jerks some really bad dreams tonight.¡±


    The cat shuddered. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d wish those nightmares on anyone.¡±


    ¡°Well too bad! It¡¯s their fault for being mean! They¡¯re all gonna get cosmic night terrors and crap their beds!¡±


    ¡°We could just stab them instead,¡± said Claire. ¡°At least the one in the back that kept sneering.¡±


    ¡°You two are overreacting,¡± said Lia, with a strained smile. ¡°Sure, they weren¡¯t very nice, but they did seem to have some sort of criteria at least. It¡¯s our fault for not knowing what it was. And besides, I¡¯m sure we¡¯d get caught right away.¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t.¡± The lyrkress¡¯ eyes were on the neighbouring lot. ¡°The second group is screaming at them too. The child is in tears. And the father is on the verge of throwing punches.¡±


    ¡°They appear rather unpopular. I do not believe we would be identified as suspects, should they suddenly disappear,¡± said Arciel.


    Natalya pressed a hand against her face. ¡°Why are all of you so violent? Can¡¯t we just act like normal civilized people and move on with our lives?¡±


    ¡°No way!¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Absolutely not.¡±


    The cat breathed a tired sigh as the three answers came in unison. ¡°How about we go regroup with Boris, Marcel¡ª¡± She cut herself off as she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. ¡°Wait, Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°Mhm?¡±


    ¡°Can I see that ticket for a second?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ sure?¡±


    The fox handed the paper slip to the cat, who promptly flipped it over and scanned the text. ¡°We should sign up for the exhibition match.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± asked Claire, with a tilt of the head.


    Lia presented the side she had been looking at, which featured an advertisement for the event in question and highlighted one of the lines at the bottom. ¡°Every win gets you a cash prize,¡± said the cat. ¡°It¡¯s twenty gold coins. Twenty. That¡¯s two whole pounds of gold per win, and they¡¯re still looking for fighters, apparently.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ how about we just go meet up with Boris and Marc instead?¡± said Sylvia. ¡°You can sign up for the arena thingy later if you want. Matthias looks like he¡¯s already passed out from drinking too much, but I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯ll wanna go too.¡± The princess¡¯ guard was unconscious, his body draped over the flying sea cow¡¯s back.


    ¡°We should all sign up. Imagine all the money we¡¯d make!¡± The cat¡¯s breathing was somewhat irregular, and her eyes were completely bloodshot.


    There was a moment of uncomfortable silence thereafter, during which she was made the subject of a number of stares. It took a moment, but the soldier quickly caught on, coughed, and averted her gaze. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°What were we supposed to do next?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Oh, oh, I know!¡± Sylvia raised a hand and waved it around excitedly. ¡°I think we were gonna go join that race thingy.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s tomorrow,¡± said Lia. ¡°Today, we¡¯re supposed to go check out the cat cafe that opened last week.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah!¡± Sylvia clapped her paws together. ¡°And we were supposed to meet Ciel¡¯s friends while we were at it too, I think.¡±


    ¡°Precisely,¡± said the squid. ¡°We were to meet with the Lady of House Ariti to discuss terms.¡±


    ¡°Then we should probably head out soon. It looks like the third group is also arguing with the judges,¡± said the cat, with a frown. ¡°We¡¯re going to end up being late if we wait for them to announce the results.¡±


    Though they hadn¡¯t quite forgotten the judges'' misdeeds, the group called for its remaining members and wandered back into town without causing any explicit harm. They quickly passed through the city¡¯s gates and made their way over to the restaurant in question. As they drew closer, however, they found that the city¡¯s festive mood had begun to break. The happy pedestrians making merry with their friends and family were replaced with gloomy bystanders whispering rumours of violence and death.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± asked Lia, her ears nervously flitting around.


    ¡°There¡¯s been a stabbing,¡± said Claire. It was the only bit of information she could weed out from the gossip. Few were recounting the events; most were offering wild speculations and interpretations instead.


    They found the source of all the whispering after one more turn¡ªa large crowd gathered around a trio of bloody corpses. The first was the worst off. Its face was cut up beyond recognition, and its bloodsoaked cloak was covered in knife-sized holes. The dress underneath was mauled as well, brutally destroyed and torn to bits. A similar treatment was given to the individual¡¯s accompanying butlers. Their uniforms were covered in violent, twisting blade wounds, and their faces were quite literally carved off, stolen by their murderer.


    ¡°Of course it had to happen right in front of the cafe,¡± said Lia, with a grimace.


    ¡°Ughhh, this sucks,¡± complained Sylvia. ¡°I wanted to go inside and pet all the cute kitties, but it doesn¡¯t look like they¡¯re open anymore.¡± She was already back in her vulpine form, sitting atop the lyrkress¡¯ head as usual. ¡°I guess today¡¯s just really unlucky or something. Nothing¡¯s going right.¡±


    ¡°I am convinced that luck had very little to do with this particular course of events,¡± said Arciel. Her face had turned dark as soon as she saw the corpses. ¡°The woman that was slain was precisely the individual we were meant to meet.¡±


    ¡°Wait, isn¡¯t that like¡­ super bad?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°It is,¡± agreed the squid. ¡°Let us visit Lord Ariti with haste, before the whore does to him what she has done with his daughter.¡±

 Chapter 237 - The Winter Festival III

    Chapter 237 - The Winter Festival III


    Claire idly glanced around the room from her position behind the couch. Like everyone but the vampire princess, she was standing upright, playing the part of the noblewoman¡¯s guard. The man they had set out to see knew nothing of her identity, and she had every intention of keeping it that way. She wore a mask on her face to further aid in the effort, a large piece of cloth that obscured everything under the bridge of her nose. Her hood was pulled down as well, covering her eyes to give the impression of an assassin. The only obvious racial feature she retained was her tail, an appendage that the lady of House Augustus was not exactly meant to have. And yet, despite her incredibly suspicious getup, it was not she that the manor¡¯s gatekeeper had scrutinized. His eyes had rested on the three animals instead, all of whom had wandered inside in a single file line.


    Similar looks were given by the butler, who had shown them to the sunroom and informed them that his master had a prior commitment. That, of course, was a lie, but none of the guests were brash enough to bring the fib to attention. It was only natural that the baron would need time to calm down, with the news being what it was.


    Despite owning a mansion in the capital, the lord of House Ariti was not one of great wealth. A precursory look around the manor revealed a tale of relative destitution. The building¡¯s decorations were scant; there were no fancy chandeliers, fine cases, or beautiful tapestries anywhere to be seen. The paper that covered his walls was tacky, and of a fashion that even Arciel would have been inclined to describe as out of date. His candle holders were made not of brass or stone, but bits of wood, pasted together with a cheap glue that held an awful scent, and there were fewer servants than there would have been in the house of a well-to-do commoner. Those that were present appeared less-than-inclined to put much effort into their jobs; there was so much dust in the air that Claire had to fight back the urge to sneeze.


    The sorry state of his wallet was further emphasized by the home¡¯s location. It was located not within the district that contained most of the other noble houses, but far on land, only a block or two north of the pleasure quarter. The accompanying bright red lights could not exactly be seen from the sun room, but Claire had spotted them whilst passing through the halls. The sounds were even less subtle. They rang throughout the home, the jovial music more obnoxious than entertaining.


    ¡°Are you sure he¡¯s worth recruiting?¡± asked Claire. ¡°I doubt he has very many soldiers.¡± The gatekeeper was the only armed guard she had seen, and like the maids, he had appeared more sloppy than competent.


    ¡°Meager though his assets may seem, Lord Ariti is a shrewd man with strong blood ties to many of this country¡¯s most powerful,¡± said Arciel. ¡°His allegiance is critical to ensuring a stable political climate following the harlot¡¯s suppression.¡±


    A muffled cry came from beside her, as if to join the conversation, but the lyrkress silenced it with a magic-infused glare. His inability to speak came not from a gag, but a set of vectors that held his mandibles shut while another kept him standing upright; much of the alcohol had been filtered from the mantis¡¯ body, but he was still drunk enough for his mouth to be deemed a liability.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I think Matty just said that it¡¯s ¡®cause this airy-whatever guy¡¯s parents were super important. But apparently he wasn¡¯t born soon enough to take over most of their stuff,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Oh, and his siblings are supposed to be super important too.¡±


    ¡°Precisely,¡± said Arciel. ¡°It is none other than his elder brother that serves as this country¡¯s prime minister.¡±


    ¡°S-should we really be here then?¡± squeaked Natalya. ¡°I feel like we¡¯re just going to mess it up somehow.¡±


    ¡°I would much rather have you present than not,¡± replied the squid. ¡°It is difficult to discern his reaction, given the current state of affairs.¡±


    ¡°R-right.¡±


    The group spent a full hour chatting idly before the butler returned to announce the baron¡¯s impending arrival. It was an almost unthinkable amount of time to make a royal wait, but the grieving father could not be so easily condemned.


    When the spider-legged pufferfish finally entered the room, he did so with an air of feigned composure. Most of the red near the corners of his eyes had been covered up by cosmetics, but the swelling was not invisible. His sclerae were bloodshot, his breathing was erratic, and his hands were trembling. Still, he was at least presentable enough to face his guests, who he greeted with a bow and a click of the mandibles.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Princess,¡± he said, as he took his seat. ¡°Please forgive my appearance. I am aware that it is imperfect, but I suspected,¡± He stopped in the middle of a sentence to take a deep breath, ¡°that you would have preferred not to be kept waiting for any longer.¡±


    Arciel nodded. ¡°Not to worry, Baron. I am well aware of your circumstances.¡± She covered the bottom half of her face with a fan as she focused her eyes on his. ¡°It will be in our best interest to strengthen our bonds so that we may rapidly suppress the harlot and her schemes.¡±


    The man slowly raised his eyes and gave the witch a long, hard look. ¡°Princess, I will be frank. I do not think that we will be able to work with you any longer. I¡­ we have already lost too much. The queen is aware of our plans, and I doubt that there is much success to be had if we continue on our current path.¡±


    ¡°Cooperation is the key to preventing this manner of accident going forward, Lord Ariti.¡±


    The man hid his trembling fists under the table and bit his lip. ¡°The harm is already done.¡±


    ¡°Is that not all the more reason to act?¡± The vampire snapped her fan shut and set it down in her lap. ¡°I know what you have lost. Your daughter was a darling child with a heart of gold and ambitions to match. It is a loss to the world for her spirit to depart at such an early age. But perhaps that is precisely why you must seek her killer and see justice done.¡±


    ¡°Please, Princess.¡± He chattered his mandibles and shook his head. ¡°Please put an end to this madness. This happened because you approached us with this offer in the first place. We¡­ cannot suffer any more of the consequences,¡± he said, with a shake of the head. ¡°Please, I beg of yo¡ª¡±


    A painting flew by the man¡¯s head and crashed into the wall behind him, its ceramic and glass frame shattering to bits on contact. His face twisted in shock, a reaction shared by the knight, the kraken, and the cat.


    ¡°You suck at acting.¡± Claire spoke up as she magically pulled another portrait into her hand. ¡°Your makeup is perfunctory, your pauses are planned, and your tears are faker than the signature on this shoddy illustration.¡±


    ¡°W-what!? W-what are you doing!? How dare you!¡± flubbed the man. ¡°I will not stand for your accusations! You know nothing of how I feel!¡±


    The lyrkress rolled her eyes. ¡°I know exactly what it looks like, for a father to feign concern about his daughter.¡± One set of vectors slid the couch that Arciel was seated on aside, while another ripped the coffee table in half. The man lashed out with a dagger when she stepped forward, but his attack was interrupted by a lizard to the chest. Boris squeezed the air out of his body while Claire stomped on a fuzzy leg and ground it to paste. He immediately began screaming for aid, but his assailant ignored his cries and flung him across the room.


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    ¡°C-Claire!?¡± shouted Natalya.


    The baron tried to push himself to his feet while the butler previously seated behind him scrambled to insert himself between his lord and the aggressor. Both were dealt with in the same way. She lifted them with vectors and floated them in front of the Vel¡¯khanese royal, where they were left to dangle helplessly, unable to influence their own position. They opened their mouths to complain, but that privilege was quickly denied with an ice cold glare.


    ¡°You can decide how we deal with them.¡± Claire focused her eyes on Arciel. ¡°I recommend killing them both immediately.¡±


    This statement, of course, came with a set of muffled complaints, but they were ignored.


    ¡°I would appreciate an explanation,¡± said the vampire.


    ¡°It¡¯s super simple!¡± Sylvia grabbed the crowd¡¯s attention with a wave of the paws. ¡°There¡¯s a bunch of guys surrounding the building right now. Oh, and there¡¯s some of them inside already too. They started gathering a bit before he started talking to us.¡±


    ¡°He double crossed us,¡± muttered the witch.


    ¡°Mhm!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that there¡¯s some of the weird elephant guys because they¡¯re heavy and make funny sounds when they breathe. Oh, and some fish guys too, I think! Anyway, this guy¡¯s totally got it out for us.¡±


    ¡°He used his daughter as bait,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°If that was his daughter at all.¡±


    ¡°That, I have grasped,¡± said Arciel. ¡°But I do not understand your desire to slay them. Lord Ariti, at least, would make for a fine hostage if we decide that it is worth angering and subsequently deposing his brother.¡±


    The longmoose averted her eyes, but answered nonetheless, half under her breath. ¡°Experience.¡±


    ¡°I doubt that they are worth very much. Neither of them are ascended.¡±


    This claim prompted the two victims to nod, quickly as they could.


    ¡°Killing him now means there will be more people to kill later.¡±


    The squid closed her fan and pressed it into her brow. ¡°I believe that is what we would describe as making enemies, which need I remind you, stands opposed to our goals?¡±


    ¡°We can blame it on the elephants,¡± said the moose. ¡°There¡¯s no guarantee he¡¯ll survive the melee either way.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯d you say the erdbrechers were?¡± asked Matthias. He stumbled over to the couch as he spoke, his scythes draping over the back.


    ¡°Everywhere,¡± said Claire. ¡°There are a few dozen or so down the hall, if you feel like dealing with them.¡±


    ¡°Finally! Some fun!¡± The mantis walked over to the door and stepped outside without a moment¡¯s hesitation. ¡°You girls wait right there. I¡¯ll take care of this,¡± he said, with a hic. ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to fight me some erdbrechers.¡±


    ¡°Wait, Matthias, come back!¡± Lia shouted after him, but to no avail. ¡°We haven¡¯t decided if we¡¯re going to fight yet!¡±


    The Vel¡¯khanese knight ignored the cat¡¯s complaint and headed straight down the hall. The sounds of battle filled the manor soon after he vanished around the corner. Crashing, clacking, the screeching of metal, the splattering of blood, and an almost excessive amount of panicked screaming. Evidently, the baron had neglected to inform his staff of his intentions.


    ¡°What are you talking about? There aren¡¯t any decisions to make.¡± Claire tilted her head. ¡°We¡¯re going to fight here. Indoors. There are too many witnesses outside.¡±


    ¡°I would rather you not immediately dismiss all the other options.¡±


    ¡°Their fault, not mine.¡± The moose fashioned the curtains into a makeshift rope and tied up both of their hostages as she spoke. ¡°Now stop sitting around. We need to take care of the perverts listening in.¡±


    Claire walked over to one of the inside walls, ears twitching, and bashed Boris against it. The wood and plaster burst apart to reveal a group of armoured warriors with a large, crocodile-like lizardman standing at the forefront. He was dressed in full plate armour bearing an insignia of Vel¡¯khanese origin and had two weapons, a pair of large swords, hanging off the side of his waist. The metal battering ram he held looked large enough to require his companions¡¯ assistance, but he was carrying it in one hand without the slightest hint of strain.


    ¡°Why, hello ladies.¡±


    He set the two-meter-long implement down on the ground in front of him and met the group with a toothy grin.


    ¡°Sir Deilos.¡± Arciel cast the man, the queensblade, a hateful glare, her grip tightening around her wand. ¡°Good afternoon.¡±


    ¡°A very good afternoon indeed,¡± he said, as he cracked his neck. ¡°You see, Her Majesty has just so happened to ask me to take you in so she can breed you in her bedchambers like the livestock you are.¡±


    The vampire scoffed. ¡°I suppose you were always the sort of man to worship harlots and their ilk.¡±


    ¡°Slandering the queen? Why, that¡¯s l¨¨se-majest¨¦. I suppose that¡¯s all the more reason for us to capture you.¡± The lizard smiled, his tongue flicking through the air as he arranged his hands behind his back. ¡°I would have loved to handle it myself, but unfortunately we have to give our new friends a chance to show their stuff.¡±


    He stepped back and allowed a pair of elephant men to step forward. They weren¡¯t the most decorated mammoths in the crowd, and frankly looked more like grunts than they did famed warriors, but they carried themselves with utmost confidence regardless.


    Claire didn¡¯t bother waiting for them to engage. She raised her hands right away and tore at both with a series of powerful vectors. The mercenary on the left fell victim immediately, his body shredding to bits. His friend, however, suffered only a few tiny cuts and tears. And they were not the only two attacked. A storm of vectors immediately swept through the crowd. Some of the men were completely disassembled, some were slightly damaged, and some were even completely unscathed.


    ¡°It¡¯s some sort of spell,¡± shouted the crocodile. ¡°Initiate protocol thirteen and prepare to engage!¡±


    The order came with an immediate shift in the soldiers¡¯ defenses. Gone were the strawmen she could easily take apart. The weakest among them were replaced by clay soldiers instead, still malleable and easy to kill, but tough enough to offer a slight bit of resistance. They, however, were the only ones that fell. The rest stopped suffering injuries from her attacks, with the bipedal lizard among the more resistant. At most, she was able to tear out a few of his scales.


    ¡°You have certainly found yourself an interesting ally, Princess.¡± He touched a hand to his cheek and rubbed a missing scale, his already toothy grin growing more ferocious as he felt a trickle of blood. ¡°Oh, a very interesting ally indeed.¡±


    A rapier darted towards his throat while his eyes were focused on his sticky red claws. It nearly cleaved through his neck, but he evaded it with a flick of the tail. His assailant flipped over his head and immediately followed with a claw strike, but he stepped out of the way of that as well. The ceramic tiles beneath him took the blow instead. Their shattered bits flew through the room, obscuring the warrior just long enough for her to land an attack.


    She drove her weapon¡¯s pommel into his side and crushed his scales. A twist dug it even deeper, but Deilos was unfazed. He lashed out with his fist and forced her to back off whilst drawing his twin blades. It didn¡¯t take anything more than a moment of observation to determine that they were enchanted. Both the red sword and its blue counterpart glowed with a faint magical light.


    He dashed up to the feline and attacked before she could retreat back to her allies. She parried the blow, but the strength he infused into the double-bladed swing flung her aside. He immediately stepped forward and cut her off from her companions. He wanted a duel, and had no intention of taking no for an answer.


    While he kept her occupied, his men broke into the room and surrounded the rest of the princess¡¯ party. The erdbrechers they had recently hired were quick on the uptake. They not only joined the encirclement, but blocked off the exits as well. His target likely would have been able to break free had her knight still been by her side, but she had sent him off. It was the perfect opportunity to strike. Famed warrior though he was, Deilos knew that Matthias would not be able to quickly thin the crowd. His bad habit was sure to take hold and delay him from immediately claiming his victory.


    A smile crossed the crocodile¡¯s lips as he reviewed the status quo again.


    It would not be long before the queen rewarded him again.

 Chapter 238 - The Winter Festival IV

    Chapter 238 - The Winter Festival IV


    Claire brandished her lizard as she glanced around the room. She watched as a score of enemies surrounded her. All twenty men oozed raw confidence, even though they wore thick goofy mantles over their armour. In fact, it was precisely because of the out-of-place, thick, nanny-knitted capes that they proceeded with so little hesitation. It was not just to look ridiculous that the unfashionable knights wore their cloaks, nor was it for comfort. Nay, the pulpy threads were donned for function and function alone, for they were woven with the spell-resistant fibres of the spiderwood pit, a plant specialised in the entrapment and consumption of mages.


    The cloak¡¯s nullifying effect was limited to the bits it covered. A carefully aimed attack would render the shrouds ineffective, and more powerful spells could rip through them. And the latter weakness was precisely why the individuals deployed on the mission were also more magic-resistant than their peers. It was a well-thought out plan with Arciel¡¯s strengths targeted directly.


    Unlike her tentacled friend, however, the lyrkress was just as comfortable in close quarters as she was lobbing projectiles from afar. She didn¡¯t hesitate to dash into the fray and approach the closest elephant-headed mercenary with a lizard-faced glaive. The bluescale dug her foot into the ground with such force that the wood beneath the carpet splintered, and swung her blade with enough strength to blow the building away.


    Her target opened his eyes wide, but managed to react in time regardless. The erdbrecher met Boris¡¯ blade head on, punching his edge with the gemstone gauntlet that ran from his hand to his shoulder. For a moment, it looked like the elephant¡¯s defense was solid, but the sapphire-studded glove that protected his fingers gave in and crumbled away. He quickly pulled back as he recognized his loss. The man twisted his wrist and guided the incoming blade away from his face just before the lizard claimed his fingers and chopped them to bits. It was not just a defense that he managed; the monk lowered his hips and thrust his fist straight towards her chest.


    His aim was obvious; he was looking to smash through the icy protrusion that lay between her breasts and strike her solar plexus. It was a veteran¡¯s approach; races with built-in catalysts, like unicorns and dwarves, were often disoriented upon losing their horns and beards. And though he didn¡¯t know it, he had guessed right. Qilin were similar. Their horns were both their greatest strength and their greatest weakness.


    Assuming that they could be broken.


    His second gauntlet was met with the same fate as his first. Claire¡¯s shard extended to ten times its previous size at the moment of impact, crushing his stone glove and severing his arm at its base. The lyrkress glanced at his exposed flank, but backed off instead of pursuing. She dashed over to the lunar witch¡¯s side and drove her pole weapon towards the fish-headed attacker closing in. The knight turned in time to see the strike, but he was not as swift or skilled as his elephant-headed ally. There was nothing he could do to stop the inbound lizard, who turned into a scythe midswing, from catching him by the gills and splitting his head in two.


    ¡°I could have easily dispatched him myself,¡± said Arciel, with a pout.


    ¡°Of course you could.¡±


    Claire summoned her pony as she spoke. The misshapen horse opened its mouth wide and consumed a blast of light while its master whipped her weapon towards its caster. Boris transformed again midflight, assuming the form of a mighty axe with a hundred pound, three-headed blade. He tore right through his target¡¯s flimsy wooden shield.


    The mage cursed as his blood splattered across the carpet. Neither his silken cloak nor his plated metal armour was able to deter the lizard from digging deep into his flesh and rending his heart. But even with the vital organ destroyed, the elephant refused to fall. He trumpeted, loudly enough to shake the building¡¯s foundations, as he tore the lizard from his chest and pressed his trunk against the gash. Another ray of light was fired from the face-limb, cauterizing the wound and sealing his ribcage before its contents could fall all over the floor.


    Claire charged at the mage, but two of his allies inserted themselves between them before she could reach him. A third rushed her from behind, while a fourth placed his hands to the ground and channeled a powerful spell. It was not an attack, but rather a wide-ranged restorative that targeted all of his allies¡ªthe man with the missing arm grew another limb while the man with the lizard-hole in his chest saw his pectoral flesh restored.


    Both Arciel and Claire turned on the healer immediately. One lobbed a spear made of ice, while the other launched a blood-forged blade. But none of the projectiles landed on target. The healer grabbed his trunk and gave it a tug to create a powerful barrier that kept both their magic missiles at bay. Claire dashed forward while the magical sparks flew, called Boris back into her hand, and struck at the cleric¡¯s rear, but her halberd was blocked by the very same defense.


    One of the fishmen dove towards her before she could recover and struck with his trident. Its iron barbs threatened to pierce her flesh, but she transformed her runecloak into a thick layer of iron and stopped it shy of ripping her apart. He tried to retreat, but she chased with another attack. Her body morphed, turning lyrkrian as she drove her hooves towards his chest. But while he was certainly struck, the Vel¡¯khanese warrior was not her primary target.


    Claire had transitioned immediately into another attack on the healer. A fully powered swing sent a crack through the barrier, and another nearly shattered it to bits, but she was driven away by the erdbrecher whose arm she had previously removed. He warded off three of her kicks with his fists and threw a corkscrew punch towards her belly¡ªan attack that she avoided by assuming her humanoid form. She dove between his legs, turning lyrkrian again mid-slide and goring his thighs with her talons.


    He collapsed where he stood, just outside of the healer¡¯s reach. It looked like a fatal wound with the amount of blood pouring onto the carpet, but he wasn¡¯t quite dead until Arciel seized his vital fluid. She forged it into a blade and drove it straight up. It pierced his legs, but didn¡¯t stop there. The bloody spear continued to rise until it emerged from the top of his skull.


    A trio of scyphs moved to attack the princess while she was casting the spell, but she sank into the shadows and slipped away. One tried to jab his spear into the darkened spot where she had vanished, but he hit nothing. His attacks lacked the requisite properties to strike at the immaterial.


    The light mage, who suffered not from that particular weakness, followed with another wave of magical projectiles, but that too was unsuccessful. She evaded his shining hounds by sliding beneath the seats, slinking between them like a speedy slime. He began looking around as soon as he realised that he had lost track of her, only for the squid to pop up behind him and retaliate with a magical blast of her own. Albeit to little effect.


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    Her spell was banished by his cloak, dispersed back into nothingness by its antimagic threads. Despite the initial failure, she was undeterred. She dodged into another shadow and fired a saw blade forged of the night. Though it looked unassuming, the spinning disk cut straight through the cloak and nearly robbed the light mage of one of his legs.


    For a moment, it looked like the squid¡¯s party held the advantage, but enemy reinforcements began pouring in from all over. They descended upon the sun room from the surroundings roofs, breaking the glass panels as they leapt inside.


    A particularly well-decorated penguin leapt in front of Claire before she could regroup with the umbral witch and raised his wings in front of him. Both were crackling with lightning, infused with such an exorbitant amount of raw magic that the air around him almost seemed to shimmer and shake. His spell was released as they made eye contact, a burst of energy erupting from the tips of his scale-like feathers. The twin bolts converged, turning from blue to white as they took on the shape of a charging bear. The attack was powerful enough to send its caster tumbling backwards, but the lyrkress pressed forward regardless. She trusted her inbuilt resistance and took the attack head on.


    It hurt more than she expected; her whole body coursed with pain as the electrical waves invaded her circuits. The voltage was so high that the discharge set half the room on fire. But even with her nerves inflamed, Claire refused to miss a beat. She stepped forward and drove Boris towards the ice-bird¡¯s gut. It was on track to connect; the lightning blast disrupted his vision and prevented him from seeing the attack until the last moment. But he managed to evade it. Leaping just above the war hammer, the penguin dashed along its handle and made a beeline for her throat.


    Again, his wings found themselves coated in lightning, the bright blues and yellows crackling as the plasma fashioned itself into a pair of blades. His second spell far outclassed his first, powerful enough that its own caster was suffering burns from the recoil. But it mattered little.


    Because the attack was never delivered.


    A breath caught him before he could make it to his target. His magic-resistant cloak offered not even the slightest hint of protection. It joined his flesh in cracking to pieces and disintegrating to specks of dust. He narrowly survived the attack; half his body was completely obliterated, but he was still breathing, so she batted him with her lizard and sent him flying across the room.


    Headhydra took center stage as the penguin relinquished the spotlight. The three headed lizard leapt from her spot between the lyrkress¡¯ ears and tackled one of the kelpfin warriors in the middle of his descent. Contact was the bomb¡¯s trigger. The puppet¡¯s mana ignited on impact, producing a powerful vector-based blast that sent blood, guts, and bone flying all over the room. The spiderwood cloaks greatly hindered the walking explosive¡¯s effectiveness; those not in direct contact suffered only minor injuries, but the former dungeon monster cared not. Its flesh reforming, it wandered around the room, latching onto random enemies and blowing their bodies to bits. While Headhydra became the enemy¡¯s main focus, Claire disguised herself by copying the Vel¡¯khanese uniform. She pulled the mantle over her face, covering it as she focused her efforts on tempering her mana.


    Her circuits glowed as the raw energy pulsed through them, only growing more powerful and refined as she continued to channel. One of the enemy mages noticed almost immediately, but her three-headed grenade leapt into his face and prevented him from interfering with her casting. Unlike a Cadrian caster, the erdbrecher opted for a barrier that prioritised his own survival over the mission¡¯s success.


    A mistake that paved the road to his demise.


    Claire took a deep breath. Her eyes were closed. Her heart was steady. Her mind was calm. Once everything was in order, she twisted her wrist. And opened the door to the realm of eternal frost.


    ___


    A small frown appeared on Lia¡¯s lips as she matched her opponent¡¯s moves. They were circling each other, slowly moving at an angle as they maintained a distance just outside of striking range. Every time one of them took a step, the other would match. A perfect, rhythmic dance.


    Both duelists were buying time. He was focusing on her allies, observing their abilities with a keen eye, while she was waiting for his to perish. The cat knew exactly who she was up against. The warrior that stood before her was one of the three that Arciel had actively warned them about, a fierce leech loyalist whose presence on the battlefield could not be ignored. Still, Lia was confident. She didn¡¯t need to defeat him, at least not by herself. If she stalled long enough, the others would destroy his subordinates, and they would be able to take him down together.


    That had always been the plan. The only deviations were the time and the place; they had expected to encounter him when they charged the castle, after they gathered their allies and launched an all-out assault.


    He didn¡¯t move until the sunroom¡¯s windows shattered. With the breaking glass as the signal, he threw his patience aside and ran towards her with his blades trailing behind him. He ducked right before they clashed and twisted his hips, a spinning, diagonal slash, backed by the weight of his body.


    Lia met the blow with a horizontal sweep. Knowing that her opponent had roughly two hundred levels on her, she began immediately by converting her lifeblood to power. He was caught off guard by the burst of strength, but he was not outdone. The lizardman blocked the attack with just one of his swords and swung the other straight at her neck.


    Its arc was beautifully crafted. His form was too perfect to be the result of a skill alone. The carefully refined swing told her of the hundred years he had spent refining his technique, the long hours and days, the blood, the sweat, the tears.


    But beauty alone did not a deadly counter make.


    Natalya side-stepped the attack and kicked him in the leg. The five thousand points of health she sacrificed punched straight through his armour and shattered his shin while she spun around and aimed a slash at his midsection. Her sword whipped through the distance between them, its tip snapping forward like a loaded spring. The rapier¡¯s spinning blade tore through his flimsy armour and landed right in his gut.


    It was caught in his flesh, stuck between two of his ribs not because the cat lacked the strength to wrench it through, but because she had released the weapon as soon as it had entered his body. Lia dropped into a crouch, all four limbs on the floor before leaping straight up. She grabbed her master¡¯s sword with her teeth as she ascended and forced it up through his flesh, ripping up his chest and cleaving his elongated jaw into two perfect halves.


    When she noticed that he was still twitching, she grabbed the weapon with both hands and brought it down on his skull.


    Only to find herself on the other side of the room.


    It took a moment for everything to register.


    First was the pain. Her gut screamed for her attention. She tried to take a breath, but her diaphragm refused to listen. Its muscle fibres were no longer intact. The whole dome-shaped mass had been crushed, obliterated by something or other. She needed to get the air back into her lungs. So she drew the rune she needed to enrage whilst raising her eyes and checking on her opponent.


    His armour was still a mess, but his wounds had healed. His broken leg, his torn up chest, and his cloven chin had all been restored to their previous states, and not because his allies had healed him. The only medic on the field was too busy defending himself from a bloodthirsty moose.


    The lizardman¡¯s recovery stemmed instead from a much more familiar source. It was the fury in his heart, the frenzy of war, and the flame of loss. In that way, they were very much alike. Both were bloodborn berserkers. Battle-crazed avatars of rage that turned their madness to power.

 Chapter 239 - The Winter Festival V

    Chapter 239 - The Winter Festival V


    A penguin with a commander¡¯s hat and an eye-catching purple scarf raised his wings and puffed out his chest as he watched the battle unfold. It wasn¡¯t going well, but neither was it going particularly poorly. While they had certainly suffered a number of casualties, especially among the regular soldiers, it looked as though Lieutenant General Deilos¡¯s strategy would soon see their targets overwhelmed. Their newfound erdbrecher allies proved invaluable. Even without any orders, they had aided the officer¡¯s men in encircling their targets. Two of the three were trapped in the formation, all routes of escape thoroughly cut.


    The most effective member of their group had been cornered already; Sir Deilos had driven the berserker away from her allies and silently challenged her to a duel. His usual tactic.


    Korind had shared a history with the man since they enlisted in the same unit some two dozen years prior, and in that time, the crocodilian berserker had lost exactly none of his bad habits. He struggled to recognize that his role was no longer that of a fighter, often jumping headfirst into the fray in favour of issuing orders. One might expect the lizard-brained fool to be condemned for such behaviour, but his aides often made up for it by taking command themselves. It was, as such, an incredible shame that they were not present for Princess Arciel¡¯s capture.


    One was cooped up at home, depressed following an unsuccessful mating season, while the other was apparently looking to swim to Vaughn. Korind surely would have dismissed the trek as a joke had anyone else been the one to suggest it, but with Kitterick, he couldn¡¯t be so sure. She had always been something of an eccentric.


    The penguin entertained a number of similar idle thoughts as he continued to observe the battle from his place on the roof. He was confident that his men were unnecessary, but they remained on their perches regardless, silently watching as the operation unfolded before them. They were not drawing many eyes¡ªthe manor¡¯s sunroom was located within its courtyard and hidden by walls on all sides¡ªbut they wouldn¡¯t have minded even if they were. The bloodkraken¡¯s apprehension was sure to be announced to the public following the mission¡¯s completion. Neither lieutenant general was certain as to precisely how the queen would frame the news, but it was to their understanding that the former princess would be used to cement her rule and earn loyalty from those that disparaged her for her blood.


    Korind¡¯s confidence remained until the princess¡¯ party finished one of the erdbrechers. Their most impressive combatants were all back at the castle, enjoying a series of ludicrously expensive banquets at the queen¡¯s behest, but their so-called softtusks were still powerful fighters in their own right. What surprised him more, however, was not the man¡¯s death itself, but rather its cause. The princess was supposed to be somewhere in the range of two to three hundred. It shouldn¡¯t have been possible for her blood magic to easily dispatch a monk near four.


    ¡°Our calculations are off.¡± The penguin adjusted his hat and fastened his cloak. ¡°Move out! We¡¯re providing backup!¡±


    He leapt onto the glass-room and burst through its ceiling whilst charging his wings with mana, his men following soon after. The cutting spell that the princess had used to saw through their magic-resistant attire was one of an elementary make. He didn¡¯t want to see what she could do if given the opportunity to channel.


    Rather than targeting her, however, he focused his efforts on the battlemage with the strange weapon. He dropped right in front of her and blasted her with plasma claw. He was surprised to see her survive mostly unscathed, but scampered atop her weapon and prepared a more powerful spell. Alas, he never reached her.


    He felt a gentle breeze against his beak, followed in the next instant by a world of pain. There was something wrong with his body. It was like someone had stabbed him a thousand times, each blade digging deeper than the last. He tried to get to his feet as soon as he noticed that the enemy was casting again, but he wasn¡¯t quick enough to stop the spell in its tracks.


    Everything suddenly turned white. The building was gone, replaced by a field of snow situated on the side of a lonely mountain. He immediately tried to counter by deploying a distortion of his own, but his magic was strangely heavy. It didn¡¯t quite cycle through his body the way he wanted, just as how his eyes refused to do anything but droop.


    When he raised his head, which refused to move at anything beyond a snail¡¯s pace, he found that he wasn¡¯t alone. Many of the others were there as well, trapped within the pocket of reality that her spell had defined. All of them were just like him, moving lazily, even though their faces showed clear frustration.


    After looking towards the caster, who was slowly, wordlessly approaching from afar, the penguin grit his beak and redoubled his mana-channeling efforts. He kneaded it like a tough dough and concentrated on generating the impulse he needed to completely blow her away. But his prided wings failed to build a charge.


    It was not as if they had lost their function. They could still store energy, but the amount that they accrued was miniscule. The changes were so subtle that they were smaller than what he had even thought possible.


    His mind was the only thing that remained at its usual speed. He tried to open his mouth and bark orders at his men. He tried to explain that the spell was some sort of status condition, and they needed a countermeasure to deal with it. But the words didn¡¯t quite seem to want to leave his throat, even as his field of vision continued to narrow.


    He was afraid of letting his eyes close. He didn¡¯t know what the enemy caster was doing, but with every passing second, he found himself more and more concerned that they would never open again, that the darkness would swallow him whole and throw him into the abyss. Despite his best efforts, however, he couldn¡¯t stop his lids from falling. Slowly, slowly, the black curtain encroached, peaking right as he heard a deep, distorted gurgle emerge from the depths of his throat.


    Everything vanished. There was a brief moment where he felt himself resolved to death. And if it had ended right then, as he formed that thought in his mind, he surely would have fallen in a manner befitting a warrior. But every conscious moment spent without light bit away at the strength of his mind. He wanted to scream. He wasn¡¯t ready for his life to end. There were still too many things he had to do. He had to go home and feast upon the fish his mate had hunted for dinner. He needed to feed his son so he could grow big and strong. He wanted to drink with the neighbours and relish in the festivities. He didn¡¯t want to die. Not on a mission that was meant to be so simple.


    But then, just as he felt the despair clawing at his mind, he realised that the light had returned. It was just a small crack at first, a tiny view of the mountain that lay beyond. But it was still there. It was still definitely and undeniably there.


    While the light had been restored, exactly as it was, the scene itself had changed. The snow was much heavier, obscuring more of his vision, and the sky was filled with floating chunks of ice. They were all around them, and from what he could see of his allies, inside of them as well.


    That was when he realised that the distorted sounds were still there. Coming from his throat.


    He was still saying something, but it was too deep and long to be intelligible, and he had already forgotten whatever it was that he was trying to say. The panic attack had stolen it from him. It was as he attempted to recall it that he realised something else was missing.


    The girl had vanished.


    He couldn¡¯t tell if it was because the blizzard had obscured his vision, or perhaps if she had truly disappeared, but the sense of dread returned either way. He needed to know where she was if he wanted to react. He tried to crane his head around, but his neck could hardly budge. Every few moments, there was a slight change in the angle. A tiny movement that he wouldn¡¯t have noticed had he been paying any less attention to the corners of his eyes.


    It was only then that he realised he could use the time distortion to his advantage. He opened the menu to inspect his status, namely the abnormal condition that had weighed so heavily on his body. Perhaps if he understood it, he reasoned, he would be able to better keep his wits about him.


    But what he found instead was something more horrifying than the infinite moment he had spent with his pupils covered.


    There was no status condition.


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    Even though his resources were ticking down.


    His health, his mana, and even his faith were being drained. His strength was falling. His agility had already hit rock bottom. A perfectly round score of zero. The display made it clear that it was a temporary reduction. Just as how a bard¡¯s song could provide a temporary bonus. But none of that mattered.


    Not while he was moving with all the speed of a lifeless rock.


    ¡°Are you afraid?¡±


    The voice almost seemed to come from all around him, spoken by every blade of ice, every flake of snow. It sent a tingle down his spine, a slow, painful tingle. But he didn¡¯t dare respond. Not when she spoke, nor when she appeared again, her figure faintly visible in the billowing storm. It was unclear, its extremities made hazy by the snow. The one thing he could see were her eyes. They burned like flames, emitting bright blue lights that chilled him to his core.


    He was not alone in his decision, but neither was it unanimous. Corporal Jarnim made a sound, a strange sound that he could hear but not understand. It was like when he first tried to speak, a strange groan that showed no mastery over Marish or its derivatives. Something about the silhouette in the snow changed. A smile was added to her visage, a sinister, crescent sneer that forced his cheeks to clench.


    ¡°You should be.¡± Her voice was monotone, but somehow, he got the impression that she was laughing, basking in the joy of their inevitable ends. And that terrified him. She was like a spirit of death given form, a servant to Xekkur that thrived on claiming lives past due.


    The corporal that had spoken out against her was captured in a block of ice. There was no freezing process, no transitional phase. One moment, he was thawed. And the next, encased. Small cracks spread through his prison. Korind thought for a brief moment the corporal had broken free. But then his body followed suit, shattering with his prison. And then, he vanished, leaving not a trace behind.


    Korind tried to gulp as he double checked his own status. His health and mana were still dropping. But the rate didn¡¯t quite seem as quick. Or perhaps it was, and it was his perception that had changed. He suspected the latter, based on how long it took his field of view to widen, but he couldn¡¯t be sure with no way to keep track of time. Still, somehow, it felt like every passing moment was longer than the last, like their torture would never end.


    Some of the men found escape in death. But the lieutenant general was not so lucky. He was too scared to speak up, to beg the reaper to take him. He could only sit in silent dread as his health ticked lower and lower. It went from five digits to four, four to three, and three to two.


    And then, it ticked down to one.


    By then, he was the only survivor. His eyes wide open all the while, he had borne witness, sat and stared while everything fell apart. He had determined, after an eternity of half-sane observation, that they had been made the subject of an ars magna. But he had no idea what it was, no way of guessing at the concept, nor any way of conveying it to his allies even if he did.


    All he knew was that everything had fallen to zero. And that his health was the last thing to remain. Threatening to vanish as soon as he reached the end of the boundless tunnel.


    ___


    After vanishing briefly from the room, Claire appeared again right as Arciel found herself the target of a headlong charge. The shadow mage, however, was unperturbed. She warded off the incoming blade with a shadowy mass and retaliated with a thrust of the wand. The raw mana that erupted from the weapon¡¯s tip transformed into a grasping, five-fingered hand that tore her opponent¡¯s magic-resistant cloak. Stepping forward again, she lightly brushed her magical stick against his exposed chest and cast another spell.


    It looked like a harmless ruse; the attack left no marks on his equipment. And yet, the elephant collapsed where he stood, falling to his knees with his eyes wide open and his breathing shallow. He could already tell, with his massive ears, that he had lost his heartbeat, but it took ripping off his armour and pressing his hands against his chest for him to be sure.


    The vampire slinked back into cover and evaded a beam of light. Her shields may have been able to deflect melee hits, but they could do nothing against an elemental counter.


    Retaliation, however, was a simple order. Her spells were neither purely physical nor purely magical. And with something like heartbreaker, which was heavily skewed towards the former, she was able to easily bypass the magic mantles¡¯ defenses.


    All she had done was clot the blood in and around his chest. The cardiac arrest that ensued was caused not by her magic, but his body as it struggled to endure the consequences. His party¡¯s medic would be able to cleanse him of the debuff if he got close enough to inspect the man, but Arciel had prepared for such an eventuality. After appearing behind a fallen couch, where only the cowering baron could see her, she raised her wand and scribbled a magic circle.


    A staff would have been better suited to her needs. Whereas wands contained catalysts that bolstered one¡¯s casting speed, staves reigned supreme in terms of improving the efficiency of one¡¯s magic. Her signature battlestaff was exceptional even among its kind, potent enough to reduce her costs to less than a quarter. But the weapon was out of reach, planted in the ruined fortress that was their base of operations. For the time being, her wand would have to do.


    Arciel poured three hundred thousand points of mana into her spell. It would likely need more, especially if they were to take Deilos down, but it was good enough a number to start; the rest could freely be supplied later on.


    Shadow and blood were mingled together, drawn from her surroundings and concentrated inside of her body. For most blood mages, such was a sentence to a slow and painful death. But Arciel was a vampire. Blood was the sustenance that drove her continued existence. There was no chance of rejection; she could take as much of it as she wanted from anyone or anything, biology be damned.


    It was hers to manipulate, hers to absorb, and hers to change.


    She would have spoken a chant had she any extra time to cast. The words would further temper and refine her magic, bolstering its power and efficacy, but the panicked baron had already divulged her location. She could already sense three melee fighters closing in. So she tapped the magic circle and unleashed her sanguine scripture.


    A platform appeared directly underneath her, accompanied in turn by a seat of red and black. It warped when she haughtily sat herself atop it and folded her legs, growing into a beautifully decorated seat carved from the very same substance as the elevated ground beneath it.


    It was a throne. A throne made from the blood of her enemies and the shadows their corpses had left behind.


    All those that had perished at her allies¡¯ hands rose at her behest. Crimson bones. Stygian flesh. None of their skin was restored, but the rest of their organs were all present, oftentimes visible courtesy of their broken frames. Claire¡¯s latest kills were entirely reconstructed. Their bodies were damaged beyond the point of recognition, but their blood remembered their forms.


    One foolish sea horse, a Csargorn Brusseltail like Admiral Ray¡¯esce, charged with a spear held at the ready. He swam through the air as freely as he did through the water, shouting something or another about releasing a respected superior¡¯s spirit. But no sooner had he struck than he joined her ranks. The penguin he had attacked sprouted a tentacle from its gut and impaled him as soon as he closed the distance.


    Another enemy chose to engage the caster. He avoided the army by running along one of the walls and leaping towards her with his broadsword drawn. He was on point; it looked like the blow was sure to land until a shoggoth appeared in his path. He tried to slay it, but was bested in the blink of an eye. The monster, like the knight that had just perished, was much stronger than it had been in life. Because every single buff in her kit was applied to all of her summons.


    Deilos was the next she raised. The lizardman was still alive and kicking. In fact, he was doing quite well given the circumstances. But five copies of him suddenly sprung up regardless¡ªshe had already ingested his blood¡ªand marched on his men.


    The slaughter lasted until the real crocodile called for his men to retreat. Sir Deilos alone held the rear, facing off against his copies, whilst also juggling the cat, the moose, and even Matthias. The fighters surrounded him when he was left alone, but he confidently stomped on the ground beneath him and caved it in. The collapse revealed the city¡¯s waste disposal system, through which the knight unabashedly fled.


    ¡°Should we chase him?¡± Matthias lowered his scythes and looked over at his mistress.


    ¡°I would rather we refrained,¡± said the squid, with a wrinkle of the nose. ¡±To chase a rat through the sewers is a futile effort.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and plus! We¡¯re gonna miss the thing we were gonna do tonight if we waste any more time!¡± Sylvia suddenly appeared in the center of the room. She was walking directly atop the corpses, but the blood never seemed to stick. Her paws left no prints, and her fur was never moistened.


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t tonight supposed to be one of the free nights?¡± asked Lia. She reached for her book, but stopped short of touching it when she realised her hands were plastered in blood. ¡°I think we might be better off chasing him down before he has a chance to think about our abilities.¡±


    ¡°It was,¡± confirmed Claire. She continued to keep her eyes on the sewer as she lowered her hood and revealed her twitching ears. ¡°I can try tracking him, but I¡¯m nearly out of mana.¡± Her ars magna had burned roughly the same amount as the squid¡¯s. ¡°It¡¯d be safer to try again another day.¡±


    ¡°Huh!? Wait a second! That doesn¡¯t sound very Clairey of you.¡± Sylvia bounded over to her mount and pressed a paw against her forehead. ¡°Are you sick or something? Maybe a fever? Or did someone hit you in the head?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she said, with a roll of the eyes. ¡°Now let¡¯s go. We need to leave before the guards show up.¡±


    Arciel nodded when Matthias looked to her for final confirmation. They had already done enough damage. The harlot was sure to throw a fit upon discovering that her operation had failed, and they would surely be able to use it as a means of convincing neutral parties to take their side. Deilos may have seen two of their ars magnae, but the information they had relinquished was far less valuable than the confidence they had stolen from the crown.

 Chapter 240 - The Winter Festival VI

    Chapter 240 - The Winter Festival VI


    ¡°Are you sure they aren¡¯t going to chase us down?¡±


    Natalya glanced out the window as she took a heated stone from the pile and tucked it under her blanket. The whole party was gathered in her room, seated around the coffee table next to the fireplace. There were a number of dishes scattered atop, foods from the city¡¯s various restaurants and stalls, as well as Claire specials, centerpieces and desserts brought into the world by her Llystletein Authority.


    ¡°We can never be completely sure, but I don¡¯t think they will,¡± Matthias answered as he took a sip from a cup of stale tea. The mantis¡¯ scythes were covered in large mittens, both to protect them from the cold, and to keep him from accidentally mauling the furniture. ¡°They¡¯re likely to spend a bit more time plotting their next moves, with how much shit they just ate.¡±


    ¡°We have certainly dealt them a telling blow. It is a shame I cannot be present to see the look on the harlot¡¯s face, when she is met with the news.¡±


    Arciel spoke in her usual haughty tone, but she was too relaxed and comfortable to command her usual haughty air. The vampire¡¯s hat was the only part of her doing any sitting. She herself was lying on the floor, her head atop a small bubbly pillow, and her hair strewn all over the carpet. It was coloured not in its default black, but the violet shade it took with her transformation undone. Her skin was blue and her long, purple tentacles lay anywhere there was blanket to be found. She refused to retract them, even after Claire had stepped on them, once by accident and three times on purpose.


    ¡°Huh? She has a face?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°I thought she was a giant leech.¡±


    ¡°She might look like a leech, but she¡¯s technically an elin,¡± explained Matthias.


    ¡°What¡¯s an elin?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a race of fish people, and I¡¯m pretty sure at least that it comes from a line of lampreys.¡±


    ¡°Huh? But I swear you guys always just call her a leech.¡± The fox pressed a paw to her chin and cocked her head.


    Matthias chuckled and leaned further back in his seat, but offered no further comment.


    Arciel answered after a brief delay instead. She rolled slightly to the side, so she was more or less looking in the fox¡¯s direction, and lazily propped her head up with her hair. ¡°It is a designation that greatly offends members of her race. They are insulted precisely because the term presents them as they are.¡± Judging her part done, she rolled over again and dragged herself closer to the hearth.


    ¡°Oh¡­ Wait, aren¡¯t lampreys just eels, and eels just fish? Doesn¡¯t that mean she¡¯s edible?¡±


    ¡°Bad fox. Stop. Down.¡± Claire pulled her arm out of her blanket and flicked her vulpine companion.


    ¡°Ow! What the heck!¡±


    ¡°Stop imagining how the queen tastes. You can¡¯t eat her. We need to parade her corpse around after she dies.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! I wasn¡¯t actually gonna do it! And plus! It¡¯s not like anyone¡¯s gonna find out if I just give her a bit of a nibble!¡±


    The suggestion put a disgusted scowl on the resident squid¡¯s face. ¡°I would advise against consuming her flesh. She is plagued by a rather impressive number of venereal diseases. It was with them that she assassinated my aunt.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ uhmm¡­ ew¡­¡± Sylvia took a few moments to paw at her tongue before climbing over to the table and emptying a full glass of water. ¡°Where was I again? Oh, right! It¡¯s kind of a shame no one knows about Al. He can make all sorts of weird diseases go away with his weird alchemy stuff. I think one time, he said that he suddenly grew a bunch of warts all over his schl¡ª¡±


    ¡°Can we please not talk about this right now?¡± Natalya returned half a sausage to her plate and buried it under a pile of mashed potatoes. ¡°I¡¯m trying to eat.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnnn¡­ fine, but only if you can think about something else to talk about instead.¡±


    The cat set her knife down on the table and used the free hand to scratch the fox¡¯s ears. ¡°How about what we have lined up for tomorrow? I think we were supposed to go racing, and that¡¯s bound to be plenty of fun.¡±


    The subject had Marcelle¡¯s undivided attention. The perfectly circular sea cow rose from the couch and floated over while flapping her flippers against her belly. Her eyes were twinkling, and her tail quite literally spinning back and forth, but her excitement went largely unshared.


    ¡°No way! I¡¯m bored of that already. We¡¯ve already talked about it like a whole two dozen times!¡± complained Sylvia.


    ¡°Alright uhmmm¡­¡± Lia lightly tapped a fork against her chin. ¡°Do you think the girl we found was really the baron¡¯s daughter?¡±


    ¡°Wow, you really suck at this whole talking thing,¡± mused the fox. ¡°We¡¯ve been over that one already too! Like, literally an hour ago!¡±


    ¡°I-I don¡¯t suck at talking, you¡¯re just putting me on the spot!¡± said the cat. ¡°You can¡¯t just tell me to come up with something out of the blue and expect anything decent.¡±


    ¡°Well too bad,¡± huffed the fox. ¡°I already did. Now hurry up and pick something fun!¡±


    ¡°Uhm¡­ errr¡­¡± Natalya looked around the room, her eyes eventually settling on a certain closed door. ¡°Okay, well uhmm¡­ How come I never see any of you use the restroom? I swear I¡¯m the only one that ever has to go.¡±


    ¡°What the heck!? I said something fun, not something super weird and personal! And why the heck are you bringing that up anyway!? How¡¯s imagining us using the bathroom supposed to help you eat!?¡±


    ¡°I-I wasn¡¯t imagining anything!¡± The cat¡¯s face reddened as she set down her fork and pushed herself away from the table.


    ¡°Liar!¡± cried the fox. ¡°I¡¯m looking inside your head right now, and you¡¯re imagining how embarrassed Claire would be if you walked in on her!¡±


    ¡°Pervert,¡± said the moose, with a reproachful glare.


    ¡°Not because I wanted to!¡± cried the runaway soldier. ¡°I wasn¡¯t imagining anything until you suddenly brought it up!¡±


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    ¡°Mmmmnnnn¡­ I dunno. I¡¯m pretty sure you woulda done it anyway.¡± The fox was doing her best to look suspicious of her feline friend, but the impression was broken by the giggles sneaking through her mask.


    ¡°I swear to Tzaarkus, Sylvia. You¡¯re starting to pick up Claire¡¯s mean streak.¡±


    The lyrkress tilted her head. ¡°I don¡¯t have a mean streak.¡±


    Her claim was met with a number of silent stares, but she ignored them in favour of throwing her lizard another treat. He had taken a liking to the silverware that her authority skill spawned, and she conveniently needed a way to get rid of it. Dumping it in the trash was a no go. The staff responsible for cleaning their rooms would put it right back on the table, washed and ready for another meal. Of course, it wasn¡¯t their fault. Forged metal was relatively valuable, and they had no way of knowing that she would receive a fresh batch each time she called for a new dish.


    The caster herself had no idea when the various utensils had started to appear. She was fairly certain that it was just the infinite plates that plagued her at first, but at some point, they had been joined by an equally infinite army of forks, knives, and spoons. Thankfully, the lizard¡¯s stomach was on the more impressive side. He could clean up all the silverware, as well as all of the leftovers. But alas, the non-metal containers remained. It wasn¡¯t as if he couldn¡¯t eat them, but rather that the flavours of glass and ceramic were not as much to his liking.


    ¡°Whatever ended up happening to the prizes we got from the winter art contest?¡± asked Natalya, after a brief silence. ¡°I remember there being something about a colosseum.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah! I almost forgot about those!¡± Sylvia reached into her tail and rustled her paw around for a bit before pulling out an envelope. She had already ripped the seal off and shoved their other prize inside. ¡°I have them right here, and the colosseum¡¯s pretty great. Claire and I went a few days ago, and we had loads of fun.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t bad, but the fights were staged,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°That will likely change, now that Pollux has bought it. He may be something of a rat, but his blood is Cadrian as it gets.¡±


    ¡°Wait, that sounds kinda fun¡­¡± mumbled the fox.


    ¡°It will be. Under a warrior¡¯s management,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°No, not the colosseum, silly!¡± Sylvia leapt onto the lyrkress¡¯ shoulder and leaned on one of her ears. ¡°I mean the rat thing! A rat centaur sounds hilarious! Just imagine how it looks when it¡¯s scampering around and stuff.¡±


    ¡°Disgusting,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Oh, come on. Rats can be super cute when they¡¯re not too busy being tasty.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not very tasty at all. We only ever had them when there was nothing else to eat.¡± Natalya pushed her plate away, her face twisted into a grimace. ¡°A-anyway, does it say when it¡¯s reopening?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡± Sylvia retrieved the printed advertisement that came alongside the tickets and spread it out on the table. ¡°It looks like it¡¯s supposed to be all day on the day the solstice happens.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯ll be the day Count Ray¡¯esce is hosting his party,¡± said Matthias, with a frown.


    ¡°Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I think I remember him saying that it was gonna be like super impressive ¡®n stuff, but he never told us anything else. Do you think there¡¯s gonna be any tasty food?¡±


    Arciel stifled a yawn as she slowly tentacled her way over to the freshly vacated sofa. ¡°He is sure to supply us with generous meals, but I would not expect a banquet. It is a smaller, private gathering in which only our allies may participate.¡±


    ¡°We can tell him to relocate. We¡¯ll have a VIP box to ourselves.¡± Claire retrieved another slip from within the envelope and handed it to the princess, who raised her brow as she skimmed over the fine print. ¡°It¡¯d be a good sideshow.¡±


    ¡°Would it not be insecure?¡±


    ¡°I doubt it. Pollux has likely remodeled it already, knowing him.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps I will raise it as a suggestion then, seeing how eager some of our members are,¡± said Arciel, the lattermost words obscured by a yawn.


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait!¡± Sylvia waved her paws. ¡°Isn¡¯t the colosseum underwater? That sounds like it¡¯ll make it a huge pain in the butt for people like Lia who have to breathe and stuff.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure Pollux will think of something,¡± said the lyrkress, with a shrug. While only as likeable as a celebrant at a funeral, the marquis was a shrewd man. It would be difficult to convince him to purchase a business lest he could smell clear profit between its cogs. And the colosseum clearly met all his requirements. There was hardly a Cadrian with a head on his shoulders that would fail to see its problems and solutions.


    ¡°We should all participate,¡± said Lia. ¡°There¡¯s a great deal of money just sitting on the table waiting to be taken.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Don¡¯t we have plenty of money? I thought you said we were doing pretty good.¡±


    ¡°We are, but there¡¯s no going wrong with having more.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps if you are a miser,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°You just don¡¯t understand the value of money,¡± mumbled Natalya. ¡°I doubt you even know how much a loaf of bread is supposed to cost.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Laughter echoed through the room, as it would for the rest of the evening. They continued discussing whatever topics came to mind, relevant to the festive air or not. It was already a brand new day by the time they could be bothered to check the clock, so they hunkered down, grabbed their pillows, and slept right where they were.


    ___


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t quite think I heard that correctly. You lost how many men?¡±


    ¡°Sixty two, Your Majesty.¡±


    The massive lizard before the throne lowered his gaze, his body shaking like a twig in the wind. It was not the queen¡¯s astonishment that petrified the kneeling knight, but a reflection on his own incompetence. He had lost three whole scores of seasoned warriors, and one of his most reliable coworkers was among those marked missing. The crocodile¡¯s old friend could not be truly written off without a corpse, but the insurgents had purged the dead before they could return to confirm their losses.


    ¡°And you were unable to recover her?¡±


    ¡°I apologize, Your Majesty. We were forced to cut our losses and retreat before we were wiped out.¡±


    ¡°Surely you jest?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dare.¡±


    ¡°Then I suppose we were right to hire the erdbrechers.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty. I¡¯m terribly sorry for being unable to live up to your expectations. I will not fail you again.¡± The bloodsucker shook her terrifying, toothy head, but the man didn¡¯t notice. He kept his eyes glued to the floor, his teeth digging into his scales as he endured the shame. ¡°Next time, I will succeed. Or fall before my good name is sullied.¡±


    With another silent shake of the head, Queen Priscilla slinked off the throne and approached the military officer on the platform below. She advanced until she was at a scandalous distance. Without any care for the rumours spawned, she raised his head with her tail and looked straight into his eyes. ¡°I am glad you lived, Deilos.¡±


    ¡°I am undeserving of such kind words.¡±


    ¡°You withdrew our troops when you realised our loss, as opposed to stubbornly seeing the operation through regardless of the cost. The two score men that remain owe you their lives. You must know that, if nothing else.¡±


    The trembling man nodded.


    ¡°Good.¡± A twinge of loneliness shot through his chest when she removed her tail and backed away, but he fought it back before it could show on his face. ¡°They will likely grow bolder in the coming days. Dispatch units to inspect every notable house in and around Vel¡¯khagan. Focus your efforts on the chancellors and ministers. We cannot have them corrupted by the princess¡¯ temptations.¡±


    ¡°What will we do if they reject us?¡± asked the lizard.


    ¡°Use force.¡± The leech slithered over to a terrarium and gazed upon a plant whose bright white flowers were in full bloom. She picked a particularly beautiful blossom and held it up to the moonbeam shining into the throne room. ¡°The goddess of glowing rocks will not have this land again. I won¡¯t allow it.¡± A leg grew from the side of her body. A long, purple leg covered from head to toe in suckers. The limb lashed out, demolishing the flower, ripping it to pieces beneath the light. ¡°Even if it means that I must play her role myself.¡±

 Chapter 240.5 - Interlude - On the Northern Front

    Chapter 240.5 - Interlude - On the Northern Front


    Cadria did not always border the deadly Langgbjern mountains, nor was it always a powerful, unified threat of which its neighbours took note. In its founding days, the fledgling nation was but a tiny bean in a sea of hostile tribes, its entire population housed within a single village. There were a number of different accounts regarding the specifics, but most scholars agreed that its population ranged somewhere between five hundred and a thousand, rarely growing at all, courtesy of the sheer number of competitors spread throughout the region. Equally as mysterious to historians was the impetus behind the nation¡¯s sudden expansion¡ªthere were no history books that detailed the precise happenings¡ªbut whatever the case, it practically exploded overnight. The warrior tribe absorbed the neighbouring villages, cities, states, and nations, growing and growing and growing until it could grow no more.


    The army was eventually stopped, however, both by a foreign coalition and an unfortunate coincidence of the geography. Their conquest of the east ended when they hit the shore. The army, which at the time had consisted primarily of centaurs and cottontails, found itself at an impasse. Individuals were able to become sea bunnies and sea horses, but as a whole, the organisation was unable to adapt. Conquest was impossible aboard a ship. No marvel of engineering could overcome the advantages native species held in the sea, nor the fact that the targeted nations kept most of their cities buried within it.


    The south and west had no such obstacles, but the surrounding nations forged a pact to keep the newborn superpower subdued. Having been outnumbered almost ten to one, the ancient Cadrians had no choice but to turn their blades¡ªand subsequently their dreams of conquest¡ªnorthward instead. Alas, it was not to be. The Langgbjern mountains were uncharted and packed full of dangerous creatures. Most of the expeditions that made their way into the sierra would fall, with only the odd man or two returning to tell tales of the unprecedented horrors.


    It was roughly a kilometer away from the foot of said sierra that the nation drew its outermost border. There was no official fence, only an ever-changing treeline that would grow and shrink with every passing season. One would suspect a barren wasteland so far north, but the Langgbjerns acknowledged no such concept. The native plants demonstrated exceptional resilience, with the evergreens in particular springing up like weeds. The wide-leafed pine trees were not only a common sight, but a common food source as well. Their fronds were among the most common winter vegetables, enjoyed especially by the centaurs and the cottontails. If technicalities were to be observed, the thorae could eat them as well, but their weaker stomachs often struggled with the needles¡¯ digestion.


    That was why Mariabelle Phlence had kept them off the menu. The soon-to-be Lady Postumus was seated in her fiance¡¯s garden, happily humming a tune as she went through a list of dishes to be served. The choices prepared were so exquisite that she found it impossible to settle on an answer. Lord Marcellus, the head chef, had cooked everything from Cadrian favourites to foreign dishes whose names she had only seen in obscure texts. The common wisdom in such a circumstance was to select a series of local specialties alongside a few safer options, but Mariabelle was not so foolish as to opt for the standard fare.


    Though Lord Marcellus hadn¡¯t said anything outright, it was clear to the lady that her selection would double as an evaluation, an impetus to guide the servants in their future treatment of their new mistress. Most already viewed her as an enemy or an invader, present only for the purposes of her family¡¯s benefit. And while her intentions were largely pure, it was impossible to deny that, as the daughter of a count, she had much to gain from marrying a warrior-class marquis like her beloved old friend. It was largely in trade that house Phlence was bettered; the merchants serving under it would be in position to negotiate more favourable deals with the northernmost province¡¯s merchants. Perhaps if she was particularly lucky, her children would even one day assume the marquis¡¯ seat and seize control of the house. All of that was, in and of itself, standard fare. The main problem that the locals had with the centaurian lady was that she brought no clear merit. She was not from a family with a particularly high standing, she had no notable classes or skills, and to make matters worse, she didn¡¯t even have any diplomatic experience. She had left that to her father in favour of indenturing herself to House Augustus. Some even claimed that her time at the manor left her impure, that she had been used up by some soldier or other. And though Sirius had confirmed with his own loins that she had known no other man, his testimony was often dismissed as that of a fool in love.


    His servants, particularly the jealous maids who still desperately pined for the seed in her belly, looked upon the newcomer with contempt. Though Marie had been one of Sirius¡¯ close friends in early childhood, she had not visited his manor ever since she came of marriageable age, and as such, was viewed as a bolt from the blue, an unexpected wrench in their plans that threw their whole lives off course. Even the few girls that recognized her saw her as a threat once dismissed, a plague beaten back in the past, now present again to rear its ugly head. Not that Mariabelle was ugly. The careful, selective breeding that led to her creation ensured a victory, as far as the genetic lottery was concerned.


    Regardless of her background, she was sure to find much suffering beyond the horizon if she failed the chef¡¯s trial and proved herself as useless as her background suggested. She would be needlessly bullied by the various maids that sought to take her place, ignored by those meant to wait upon her, and gifted a countless number of calculated mistakes when it came to the arrangement of her attire. Such was often life for a woman in her position, and because some of the servants were noble themselves, it was difficult to simply throw them out without proof. And even then, to act on the evidence was akin to burning a bridge; there would only remain a chasm between the houses, of which a profiteering third party could easily take advantage.


    Impressing the chef would allow her to take at least one blueblooded ally into her fold. He was her best bet; they had been acquainted prior to her arrival, and she knew him as the honest type. If he was willing to profess her competence when called to witness, her influence would easily grow. Of course, while the chef was certainly a dashing man of noble birth, he alone was not enough to sway the balance of power. Marie knew that she would need to cast a wider net, to show that she had meaningful relations, and that she was not to be trifled with.


    And that was why she would be inviting to the ceremony a lady of unmistakable repute. With Claire as her maiden of honour, there would be no reasonable doubt of her influence. The only problem was that the maiden in question had failed to respond to her invitation.


    It had been two months since they last saw each other. Mariabelle had left Vel¡¯khagan with her fiance and his men in order to return to the province of Amrinia before the winter set in. All in all, it took roughly sixty days to march back to Cadria and another week to travel up to its northernmost city, built just a dozen kilometers away from the monster-ridden border.


    From its position at the foot of the Langgbjerns, House Postumus¡¯ manor was a beautiful sight to behold. To stand in its garden was to see great pillars all around, a veritable canopy of stone forests, each jutting into the sky and tearing the great blue apart.


    Gazing in the opposite direction provided an overlook of the city below, a beautiful hub that demonstrated the power of the Cadrian people. The craggy, untamed foothills were barely hospitable; the buildings needed their structural supports to be carved perfectly to fit the rocks that they sat on. Even the tiniest space between the two would spell the end; water would inevitably leak between the base and the support, widening the gap by way of freezing and thawing. For the resident stonemasons to consistently overcome the problem was a feat in and of itself. It was no wonder they were lauded as Cadria¡¯s finest.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    More impressive than the absurd building standards was the average level. Because the langgbjerns were so close, and because the surrounding area was so hostile, the average citizen was somewhere around level one hundred, and that was discounting the spelunkers¡ªthough they were constantly being cycled in and out, the adventurers, mercenaries, and career soldiers made up roughly forty percent of the city¡¯s population.


    Seven of the sixty four dungeons that surrounded the city lay far enough outside the Langgbjerns'' range to be considered safe to explore, and each provided an extremely hostile environment that delivered huge bursts of experience to its conquerors. It was for precisely that reason that their guests were so common. Warriors of all sorts would visit Amrinia just to wrap up their third ascensions.


    The lady known as common sense dictated that the dungeons must have appeared following the city¡¯s construction, but while she was certainly a wise mistress, the violent horse-people did not always heed her advice. For as insane as it seemed, it was precisely for its location that Amrinia¡¯s founders had chosen its site.


    The three-hundred-year-old city was built directly on top of a criss-crossing grid of ley lines. Within its boundaries, one could easily draw from the earth not one or two but sixteen different sources of magical energy, and it was precisely that energy that not only caused their problems, but also provided them with their solutions. Crops imported from other regions refused to grow not only because of the weather, but because they would be intoxicated by the mana-rich soil. They could only grow local produce; to live off the land was to consume an incredibly limited number of foods. But what the citizens could not produce, their wallets could always afford.


    By capturing the magical energy infused into the soil and storing it as ether, the city could easily and sustainably export a hundred times the amount it required to function. Cities relied on Amrinian batteries to keep their barriers active, artificers bought Amrinian tools for their accuracy and precision, and noble children were fed Amrinian jewels to grow up big and strong, just like the monsters that dominated the inhospitable mountains.


    To the horror of many a visitor, the legendary-class beasts would attack the city on the regular, sometimes even twice or thrice in a day. Fortunately, the ley lines provided the settlement with an impervious means of defense. Because the barrier drew its magic from all sixteen magical veins, it was effectively an impregnable fortress. It was only through cunning that man-eaters could get themselves through the city¡¯s gates.


    According to her dashing fiance, there had been several such incidents in the past. Stralphs, the region¡¯s indigenous brain-eating baboons, were especially adept at sneaking past the town guard. They would dwell in the shadows of unsuspecting travelers and rise at night to fill their bellies. The teleporting statues and the sentient storms could also bypass the barrier, often in their dormant forms, but they were far less common than stralph invasions.


    Marie shuddered when she recalled the taxidermied alpha that sat in the manor¡¯s foyer, but she quickly dismissed its six-eyed, four-jawed face with a shake of the head and returned her eyes to the dozens of dishes and images laid out in front of her.


    Having noticed that she had zoned out, her centaurian attendants looked on with scornful glares, while the tiny cottontail chef thumped his foot against the floor. No one said a word, perhaps in part because she was in the middle of tasting a stralph pie, but it was clear that their patience was running thin. They had all taken time out of their busy schedules to hear her opinions, and they even tasked a trio of artificers with operating the various devices that kept the food and environment at the appropriate temperatures.


    Of course, Mariabelle herself had asked for no such treatment. She had made it clear that she was fine with sampling the dishes cold, but there was little she could say to change the status quo. Her future husband had specifically requested everyone present to attend to her needs and she couldn¡¯t simply overrule his command. It was not just a matter of his dignity, but the chef¡¯s as well. To refuse to sample his best work was to deny the man¡¯s skill. Even though he had personally apprenticed under the duke-turned-king¡¯s personal cook.


    ¡°You¡¯ve done an exquisite job with this one, Lord Marcellus. The herbs blend excellently to mask the meat¡¯s otherwise gamey flavour. The mushrooms, which I presume are local, add a deep, earthy tang, and the butter you¡¯ve used is clearly of an outstanding quality. It is incredibly rich and aromatic, both in the crust and the filling as well.¡±


    It was a review that she only half believed. She had eaten three full meals¡¯ worth, and her tongue was long numb to taste. That was in part why she had spaced out in the first place. Daydreaming served as an excellent escape from the urge to vomit.


    The mare looked over the other items listed on the accompanying card and paused for a few moments to scribble a note beside each. The pie itself was a decent choice; it was a local specialty made from the meat of a high-leveled monster¡ªthe bloodthirsty noblemen from the capital were likely to enjoy it, but none of the accompanying subitems were likely to appeal to their wives. The creamy maize salad was too rich when paired with the high fat meat, and the chilled winterberry dessert was unlikely to be popular among the locals.


    She shifted to the next table after writing down all her thoughts, and reluctantly looked upon its presentation. The soup was thick and creamy, dyed a warm orange by the various vegetables mixed within. But as much as she appreciated the carefully arranged dish, she couldn¡¯t stand the thought of swallowing another bite. Both her human and horse stomachs were packed to the brim, unable to keep up with her rabid consumption.


    Still, she couldn¡¯t allow herself, or anyone involved with the operation, to lose face. So she raised a spoon to her lips and slowly pried them open. It was right then, as she resolved herself to another six tables of excruciating stomach pain, that she suddenly heard a distant song. She immediately set down her utensils and looked around the garden, but found nothing of note.


    The others reacted similarly, with some of the maids remarking on the tune¡¯s almost elvish beauty, and others questioning its source. The centaurs in the crowd stood up on their toes and stretched their ears overhead, but none were able to find it. Mariabelle gulped, her eyes immediately shooting to her hosts'' shadows, but thankfully, no giant baboons suddenly popped out from within them.


    It was after roughly thirty seconds, following a slow crescendo, that the sound finally disappeared. Marie stayed on guard for a little bit longer, her eyes still focused primarily on the darker splotches, before returning her eyes to the crowd and finding them all curiously fixed in her direction. She immediately checked her own clothing first and foremost, inspecting it for stains before finally realising what was amiss. It was her bowl. There was a letter sitting on top of it. The message, delivered from who knows where, featured a glowing green seal and a thin shell of ice. Its pale light occasionally pulsed through the translucent envelope, revealing a set of magic circuits configured into a spell.


    Marie was hardly enough of a mage to decipher its purpose, but she figured from the name inscribed into its center, the familiar handwriting, and the method of its delivery that the sender had no intention of causing her any harm.


    She flipped it open and swept her eyes back and forth before turning back to the manor¡¯s servants with a practiced, troubled smile.


    ¡°Please excuse me for a moment. It would seem that I have a rather urgent matter to attend to.¡±


    ¡°It does seem that way,¡± muttered the chef. ¡°Never heard of an artifact that could deliver a letter like that.¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t mind us, Lady Phlence,¡± said one of the maids.


    Mariabelle ignored the venom in the failed seductress¡¯ words and met her head on with a smile. ¡°Thank you for your understanding. I will be back as soon as I can.¡± The bride-to-be dashed through the halls, sprinting up to her room, and after locking the door behind her, leapt into her bed and screamed a series of unmentionable curses into her pillow.


    She was going to need a new plan. Because the ne¡¯er-do-well that was the letter¡¯s sender was too busy killing monsters to attend her own confidant¡¯s wedding.

 Chapter 241 - The Winter Festival VII

    Chapter 241 - The Winter Festival VII


    Despite the interruption that marked its rocky start, the winter festival carried on without further issue. The party took the lack of developments in stride and merrily indulged in the festivities. They walked around in public without any disguises, but perhaps because the city guard was, for the most part, in Arciel¡¯s pocket, or perhaps because it was difficult to pick one particular group out from all the others flooding the streets, Claire and co went completely unharassed. For the party¡¯s members and mascots, the tentacle monster¡¯s occasional nonpresence was the only reminder that they were up to anything at all.


    Every day came with a new swath of events. They took part in the mounted races, enjoyed carnival games, and attended formal parties hosted by their acquaintances. But on the tenth day of the festival, and very last day in the year, they began with a task unlike any of the others. They travelled together in the early hours before dawn, joining the tens of thousands of solemn city goers as they slowly moved through the streets. There was no distinction between the classes. Nobles and beggars walked side by side like equals, with neither group so much as reacting to the other.


    As the sun slowly peaked out from beneath the horizon, and marked the start of the shortest day, the faithful flooded into the temples dedicated to the gods of their worship. Volume was not a problem. Every holy building was ten times over capacity, but the deities expanded the interiors, warping them every time it was necessary so that their followers could say their prayers and make their offerings undisturbed. Exactly as they did every year.


    It was for the holy ceremony that the party¡¯s members went their separate ways. Natalya was off to sing the thunder god¡¯s praises. Arciel visited the temple of the moon, and Matthias entered himself into Primrose¡¯s garden. Even Marcelle was off to one place or another, though it was unclear exactly which god she showed her piety, or if she understood the concept at all. As for Claire, she eventually found herself just outside the temple of the flow. Flux was technically her patron, even if she had little to no faith in the goddess or her nebulous schemes.


    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want to be somewhere else?¡± The question was addressed to the fox on her head. It was too early for Sylvia. She was yawning and stretching at every opportunity, fighting to stay awake.


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ not really. Some of the other foxes pray to the goddess of harvest and the god of the hunt, but I¡¯ve never really seen the point. They don¡¯t really get any say on what happens back home anyway.¡±


    ¡°What about Alfred?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s more like everyone¡¯s grandpa, and it¡¯s kinda hard to pray to people you know unless you¡¯re some sort of weirdo.¡±


    ¡°Good point.¡±


    Claire raised her head and took a moment to examine her sworn goddess¡¯ grounds. The aura it aired was not quite as thorny as that of the surrounding temples. She could still feel it prodding against the divinity that lay dormant in her bones, but while certainly obnoxious, it was gentler, warmer, and more welcoming.


    As far as aesthetics went, Flux¡¯s place of worship was on the better end of the scale. Its grounds were larger than those of its competitors, and though made of wood, the building appeared just as if not more expensive than the stone-based competitors in its vicinity. Every pillar was finely crafted, made from planks of the highest quality; there was not a single blemish in any of the hundreds of pieces used to put the shrine together. The already fine saltwood was further bolstered with a layer of lacquer, used to preserve its deep, amber colour.


    Far more curious than the material used in its construction was its acoustic landscape. The oceans were frozen solid; there wasn¡¯t any exposed water for miles, but the temple came accompanied by the sounds of rolling waves, roaring and crashing against a distant shore.


    Upon entering the building, she found herself greeted immediately by a giant clock. It was smack in the middle of the foyer, a grand display around which front desks were placed. On any other day, she likely would have approached them and asked to be taken to her destination. But on the solstice, she needed only to follow the crowd. Tens, hundreds, thousands funneled into the underground chamber. Flux was practically unknown in Cadria, but for those that lived their lives within the flowing water, she was as widely worshipped as the god of the depths.


    Claire was half expecting the goddess to whisk her away when she assumed the position at the end of the infinitely long altar. But she remained where she was even after clasping her hands, placing her offering¡ªa broken piece of the leviathan¡¯s shell¡ªand invoking a prayer. It was certainly a welcome change, but at the same time, she felt a mild irritation crawl down the back of her spine. It was very much like the goddess of the eternal flow not to be there, the one time she sat down to seek her.


    Once she was done with the ceremony, Claire left the temple the very same way she entered. Following the flowing lines, she walked up the stairwell, thanked the priests and priestesses, and set her sights on the hotel once more.


    ¡°This is really weird,¡± said Sylvia, as they moved through the crowd.


    ¡°What is?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°This whole day! Everyone¡¯s acting really weird, and foot traffic is like going impossibly smoothly. You see how like, everyone¡¯s going in different directions but no one¡¯s running into each other? And it¡¯s not like anyone¡¯s consciously trying to avoid anyone else either. It¡¯s just kinda working even though it really shouldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Flitzegarde¡¯s handiwork, no doubt,¡± said the lyrkress. She certainly would have agreed had it been any other day, but such was the norm on the Day of Devotion, be it on Cadrian or Vel¡¯khanese soil.


    ¡°Probably, but that doesn¡¯t mean it doesn¡¯t feel wrong,¡± said Sylvia, with her lips pursed into a frown. ¡°I dunno, I just didn¡¯t really like it. It kinda creeped me out.¡±


    ¡°Hardly matters if it only happens twice a year.¡± The lyrkress floated up onto her balcony. The door was locked, and she didn¡¯t have any keys on her, but a quick vector was all she needed to open it from the inside.


    ¡°Yeah, but still!¡±


    ¡°Save your buts for later. Hurry up and get dressed. The party¡¯s starting within the hour.¡± Claire was already standing in front of the mirror with her outfit rapidly changing. The magical cloak cycled between the gowns she had owned, the dresses she saw in the stores nearby, and a few of her own creations.


    ¡°Hurrying¡¯s not gonna make a difference! It¡¯s only gonna take a second anyway.¡±


    Sylvia leapt off her vehicle¡¯s head and assumed her humanoid form. She was in the usual elven outfit, a revealing green dress layered with golden embroidery, by the time her body finished morphing. It looked perfectly ironed despite having come straight out of her tail, but Claire met it with a frown. She walked a circle around the fox, who nervously straightened up, before moving over to the wardrobe and rummaging around.


    ¡°What happened to the gown Arciel brought you yesterday?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s still sitting around in my tail, but I don¡¯t really wanna wear it ¡®cause all the extra stuff makes it super stuffy.¡±


    ¡°Stop complaining and put it on.¡±


    ¡°Ughhhhh¡­ do I really have to?¡±


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Claire approached the fox, which naturally led her to shrink away. And the lyrkress to continue shortening the distance. The back and forth continued until the forest critter was pinned to the wall. She tried darting off to one side, but the snake glomped her before she could run and tackled her to the ground. She immediately reached for the base of her companion¡¯s tail and began rummaging around.


    ¡°Wait, Claire! Hold on! Stop, please!¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    But no matter where her hand went, she found nothing but fistfulls of hair.


    ¡°Where¡¯s your stuff?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s in a separate dimension, dummy! Did you really think I actually kept stuff inside my tail!?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°But there¡¯s like, no way that¡¯s even remotely possible!¡±


    ¡°You can talk to swords and sing trees to life.¡±


    ¡°Well I mean¡­ yeah, but my tail is just a normal tail! It¡¯s obviously not going to have anything inside of it!¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing obvious about it.¡± Claire let go of the fox¡¯s feather duster and moved half a step back. ¡°Now hurry up and change. We don¡¯t have much time.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fine¡­ But you have to help me put it on. It¡¯s got way too many fancy strings and I have no idea how I¡¯m supposed to tie any of them up.¡± The fox reluctantly retrieved the bright purple gown and set it down on her lap. She had initially picked out a lime green outfit instead, but everyone else had rejected it on the grounds that it was too similar to her usual attire.


    ¡°Fine,¡± said Claire.


    Though it would have been easy to assemble the outfit with her vectors, Claire decided to go about the ordeal with the hands instead. Her ladies in waiting had always loved dressing her up, but she had never quite seen the fun. Being on the other end, she suspected, would perhaps reveal some new insight.


    ¡°Come here.¡± She pulled up a chair and placed it right in front of the mirror, positioning herself behind it in the way that Beatrice and Mary always had. When the fox complied, she started first by removing the dress already sitting on her shoulders. It was quite easy to unstrap, having been fastened in place by only a few thin buckles. The step that came right after, however, gave the lady a moment of pause.


    ¡°Why are you naked?¡±


    ¡°Huh? You¡¯re the one that took my clothes off!¡±


    Claire could feel her brow twitching. ¡°I only removed your dress. Where are your undergarments?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Why would I wear those?¡± The fox¡¯s curious head tilt was met with a smack. ¡°Ow!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s basic decency.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s not like anyone¡¯s gonna see anything. I can just pin my dress down with some vectors if it starts getting windy.¡±


    Claire sighed. ¡°At least make some with magic or something.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fine.¡± The vixen puffed up her cheeks as she thumped her tail against the chair and covered herself with an imaginary negligee. ¡°There, happy?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡± The lyrkress pinched the other girl¡¯s cheeks. ¡°At least pretend you have a sense of shame.¡±


    ¡°What the heck! Why¡¯s it my fault? You¡¯re not flustered either!¡± huffed the fox.


    ¡°I am,¡± said Claire. She pointed at her lips. ¡°Look. I¡¯m having a hard time keeping a straight face.¡±


    ¡°You are?¡± Sylvia leaned forward and squinted at the mirror. ¡°Oh, you are! That¡¯s weird. I¡¯m pretty much naked all the time, aren¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Weren¡¯t you the one that said it wasn¡¯t indecent while you were a fox?¡±


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ did I say that?¡±


    ¡°Right after Borrok Peak exploded.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ ohhh¡­ yeah, I guess I did.¡± Sylvia stuck out her tongue and scratched the back of her head. ¡°I don¡¯t really think it¡¯s that bad if I¡¯m a person either. It¡¯s not like I¡¯m constantly leaking like a succubus or anything, and most of the time I¡¯m really small so you can¡¯t really see much anyway.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s what happens when Alfred corrupts your sensibilities,¡± muttered the lyrkress.


    ¡°Wait, wait! That was a joke!¡± cried the fox, her face finally reddening. ¡°You weren¡¯t supposed to take it seriously!¡±


    ¡°Too late. No take backs.¡±


    ¡°I already took it back before you said that!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not how that works.¡±


    ¡°Yes it is! And plus, I like, barely ever grow big anyway! It doesn¡¯t even feel like it¡¯s really my body, so I don¡¯t care if people see!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡±


    ¡°Claire! You meanie! Dummy! I hate you!¡± Sylvia grabbed the other girl by the shoulders and shook her back and forth. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn¡¯t quite wobble the grin off her mount¡¯s lips. ¡°Wait a second! You¡¯re naked half the time too!¡±


    The claim was met with a confused blink.


    ¡°You know, how you turn super long and stuff?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m never naked,¡± said Claire. ¡°I always wear something over my ears.¡± She spun the fox back around and continued stringing up her outfit.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t count! Those are just accessories!¡±


    Claire faced the other direction. ¡°My ears are the only parts that need covering.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but you¡¯re just decorating them! That¡¯s like putting on a pair of super cute panties and saying you¡¯re dressed!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just mad ¡®cause you¡¯re totally a streaker.¡± Sylvia stuck out her tongue. ¡°That¡¯s probably why you¡¯ve got a whole church of pervs after your ears.¡± The moose continued to keep her eyes away from the mirror, but to little effect. The fully gowned fox appeared directly in her line of sight with a teasing grin. ¡°Y¡¯know, it¡¯s totally your fault there are so many of them! I still can¡¯t believe you put on that whole show that one time you ran into them.¡±


    ¡°It was worth it. My divinity ballooned.¡±


    ¡°Reaaaaally?¡± The fox narrowed her eyes, eyes that Claire, of course, was still unwilling to meet.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go. Everyone else headed straight for the venue.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t just change the subject the moment I beat you in an argument!¡± cried the fox.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Claire grabbed the taller girl by the scruff and dragged her towards the door. ¡°Now come on. We need to leave.¡±


    ¡°Wait! What about Boris and Marc?¡±


    ¡°What about them?¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we dress them up too?¡±


    The manatee in question appeared in the window frame as if on cue, her big derpy eyes shining as she undoubtedly envisioned herself in some sort of dress or other.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be silly.¡± But her hopes were immediately dashed. ¡°Marcelle is staying outside in the stables with all the other mounts.¡±


    ¡°Huh!? That¡¯s so unfair! Why¡¯s she gotta be stuck out there all by herself?¡±


    ¡°Are you even listening? I just said she won¡¯t be by herself. There¡¯ll be plenty of turberi and horses.¡± Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°But if you¡¯re really worried¡­¡± The lyrkress opened the window with her tail and beckoned the cow to approach. ¡°Choose. Left or right.¡± One hand contained a fistful of seaweed, while the other was occupied by a fancy dress. Both, of course, were made of ice, models she had quickly sculpted by molding her magic.


    Marcelle lazily looked between the two of them, her flippers flapping against her belly. After a rather lengthy delay, she eventually turned towards the dress and nudged it with her nose.


    ¡°See! Marc totally wants to come with us!¡±


    ¡°I doubt it,¡± said Claire. ¡°Marcelle.¡±


    The manatee barked, made eye contact, and cocked her head.


    ¡°Would you change your mind if it was real seaweed?¡±


    The manatee took another moment to pause before nodding vigorously and pointing at the other option.


    ¡°See?¡± said Claire. ¡°She only picked the dress because the food wasn¡¯t real.¡±


    ¡°Huh!?¡±


    ¡°She wants food more than dresses.¡±


    ¡°But she¡¯s gonna be out there all by herself! You totally weren¡¯t being fair!¡± Sylvia puffed up her cheeks.


    ¡°It seems plenty fair to me,¡± said Claire, as she watched the manatee happily chew on the icy seaweed sculpture. ¡°Now let¡¯s go. Everyone else is waiting.¡±

 Chapter 242 - The Winter Festival VIII

    Chapter 242 - The Winter Festival VIII


    Lia checked over her equipment one last time as she wandered down a long, empty hall. Though the ice and snow used in its making was abundant, the catgirl could only gawk, knowing that it had been constructed overnight. For a makeshift venue, it was surprisingly durable; the snow-packed barriers could take far more damage than the glass protectors the locals used for their homes and businesses, and they were even warmer to boot. She could practically feel the flaming torches that hung off the walls, illuminating the otherwise dark passage. Without the resulting light, she never would have guessed that the floor was also made of snow. Her feet never sank when she walked, nor did any of it stick to her greaves. It was like someone a thousand times her weight had stepped on every patch and carefully compacted it to its maximum density.


    She didn¡¯t encounter anyone else until she reached the end of the corridor, where a bespeckled centaur stood with a large clipboard in hand. She was accompanied by a number of gruff men, all of whom were seated atop a slightly elevated platform. They, she presumed, had served as the morning entertainment. Their injuries were already gone, no doubt thanks to the healers standing by in the corner, but the fresh blood that stained their ripped-up clothes could not be so easily hidden.


    ¡°Are you Lia?¡± asked the horse lady. Her voice was carried not with the warmth or friendliness that one would expect from a receptionist, but rather an air of annoyance. It didn¡¯t look like she had even the slightest desire to be present.


    ¡°Y-yes, that would be me.¡± She couldn¡¯t stop herself from being nervous. It had been a long, long time since she last participated in a public exhibition match, and the last had ended in her total defeat.


    The mare looked at her for a moment, half appraisingly, before pointing at an empty chair with her quill. ¡°Take a seat. It¡¯ll be your turn after the stage is cleared.¡±


    ¡°Okay, thank you.¡± The catgirl moved to her designated spot and cautiously inspected her chair. Her seat, like just about everything else, was largely made of the same stuff as the floor. The soft white pillow¡¯s legs were the only exception. They were forged of ice instead so that the chairs could remain mobile with continuous use.


    When she settled in and looked forward, Lia found herself with a perfect view of the colosseum. As was apparent from the lack of water, it had been moved from its previous location. The old building had been demolished by its new owner, who claimed he was looking to erect some sort of shopping center instead. The man had gone on to make a statement regarding his commitment to supporting local businesses, but Natalya was not so blind as to take the claim at face value. The Cadrians fashioned themselves as warriors, but they cared more for victory than the methods that wrought it. It was only to preserve their facades that they bothered to act any differently. That, she had confirmed through an extended observation of the usual moose.


    Thinking of the enigmatic creature drove Natalya to look towards the VIP boxes, one of which she had been standing around in just fifteen minutes prior. The count¡¯s party was not as formal as any of the others she had been stuck attending, the worst offender of which had been her godmother¡¯s. The old huskar had spent the better part of an evening introducing the catgirl and her party to a seemingly infinite slew of merchants and policy makers alike. While Lia struggled to cope with the formalities, her friends had tackled them in stride. Claire and Arciel were both accustomed to similar situations, and neither flinched even when the huskar mentioned the stations of those that they saw.


    Count Ray''esce''s event fleshed out its ranks with commoners, but that was not to say that it was necessarily stress free. As everyone invited had been chosen first and foremost for the military might they could muster, there were proud warriors that stood morally and politically opposed in the same room, eating from the same tables, and conversing about the same topics. Each individual had a mask to cover their face and obscure their identity, but it was not as if the guests had no idea who they were dealing with. Anyone with eyes could easily determine that the bulky, lobster-faced warrior was the captain of Vel¡¯khagan¡¯s city guard. Lord Turrak likewise stood out as the only penguin on the scene, and it took little effort to identify the sole human male as the minister of agriculture and exports. Most obvious of all, however, were a pair of cheeky, wolf-eared fembrats. They were clearly Lana and Tessa Penhorn, joint queens of the Penhorn pirates, notorious in all the northern lands.


    The partygoers themselves were not at all ignorant of their circumstances, and addressed each other directly by name. Hostile, suspicious glares were similarly shot all over. Those that weren¡¯t recognized were treated like enemies¡ªreinforcements for those that were. And as a fairly ordinary person with no real connections to any party in particular, Lia had found herself subjected to nothing but hostility and suspicion. Her scheduled match was a godsend, a windfall that allowed her to escape the tense atmosphere and do away with her nerves.


    Taking a breath and finally turning her eyes on the ring, she watched as the staff cleaned up after the last encounter. A line of twenty scyphs moved back and forth across the ring, sucking up bits of debris, while mermaids and penguins followed in their wake. The second wave of casters was tasked with restoring the snow. They brought fresh balls of it with them and used their magic to compact it into the ground.


    The receptionist gestured for her to stand as the workers exited the stage. Her clipboard still in hand, the horse silently led her down another hall. Lia¡¯s nerves bit at her with each step. Paunse¡¯s colosseums made a show of introducing each combatant and broadcasting a summary of their abilities to the audience, but there was no such broadcast. She was simply shown onto the stage and silently laid before the crowd. Lia had been caught off guard when they watched their first duel, earlier in the day, but Claire had explained that it was the Cadrian norm. The noise was considered disruptive, pointless, and generally in bad taste. If one wished to learn about the fighters¡¯ abilities, they needed only to ask others nearby. Someone or other was sure to know, or at least provide some degree of speculation.


    Natalya¡¯s opponent stepped out at roughly the same time she did. He was an absolute meatball of a warrior, a giant that stood at over ten meters tall. His physique was lean but muscular, and his face was covered with a shaggy brown beard. A pair of knives hung off his belt. Relatively speaking, they were tiny, but they easily eclipsed both the pencil-thin rapier sitting on her waist and the cavalry-killer strapped to her back.


    She broke into a dash as the bell rang. Some of the other fighters had been impressive enough to match her while she was boosted, and that was precisely why she refrained from committing too many of her resources. Her opponent appeared to be of the same mind. When their eyes met, she found his gaze vacant and unresponsive. It was like he didn¡¯t care for her attack or any of the damage it would fail to inflict. Seeing that, the catgirl immediately prepared to be parried; she sacrificed fifty points of health to strengthen her neck before swinging the two-handed weapon straight at his knees. She bit down extra hard to brace for impact, but it never came.


    Her blade bit through his bone. Blood erupted from the fresh stump as the man collapsed face first, eyes rolled into the back of his head. Lia was left to blink back her bewilderment as the medical staff rushed onto the scene and reattached his severed limb. Evidently, the match was over. Even though hardly an instant had passed.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    ___


    ¡°She¡¯s not very perceptive, is she?¡± Sylvia stifled a giggle as she watched the confused cat wander off the stage. Her eyes were wide the whole time, her silly expression unchanging even as she returned to the fighters¡¯ stands. ¡°Aren¡¯t warriors supposed to be good at telling how strong people are?¡±


    ¡°I was under the impression that such a feat was impossible,¡± said Arciel. ¡°The racial divide often transforms apparent weaknesses into powerful tools.¡±


    ¡°You can do it if you¡¯re used to fighting whatever it is you¡¯re trying to appraise, but any giant that chooses to become a rogue and leave his country is a fool. They aren¡¯t exactly going to be hiding from much, standing at that height,¡± said Matthias.


    The party was standing at the edge of the massive ice box that was their venue, looking down on the arena below. Their suite was larger than the others, largely thanks to the invitation extended to Marquis Pollux himself. The count had spoken to him regarding the party, and he had been eager to accommodate, knowing that it would put the princess¡¯ faction in his debt. On his part, the effort was minimal to begin with. The temporary structure had been crafted by mages, built of the materials available all around.


    ¡°Really? But Claire always seems to kinda know how strong things are. Oh, and my dad can see levels and classes kinda, so he can pretty much do it too!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t tell how strong things are,¡± said the scalewarden. ¡°I just know if I can kill them.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just the same thing, but less precise!¡±


    ¡°I suppose that is not an incorrect interpretation, but I would struggle to label it as entirely accurate,¡± said Arciel, as she rubbed the bridge of the nose.


    As the guest of honour and central figure in the upcoming deposition, she had been swamped with conversation partners aplenty. It was only because she claimed she wanted to watch her friend¡¯s match that she was able to slip away from the party, and even then, its more ambitious negotiators had tried to hound her. They stopped only when Claire and Matthias insisted with their respective silent gestures and intimidating smiles that the lady had meant she needed a breath of fresh air.


    While not entirely untrue to begin with, the argument was greatly aided by her overall presentation. She was, for once, dressed as a princess instead of a witch. Her signature hat was resting on Count Ray¡¯esce¡¯s living room table, her lunar markings had been covered up by a thick layer of makeup, and her clothing had been adjusted to suit the occasion. The corset she wore was especially tight around her waist, and her dress had a thin silhouette to aid in providing the impression of a harmless, dainty maiden. Her face was obscured like many of the other guests¡¯, but with a veil instead of a mask.


    ¡°Is it just me, or do you sound kinda tired?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°You would be correct. It brings me nothing but pain to know that I must maintain this facade until dinnertime at the least.¡±


    ¡°Wait, dinner?¡± Sylvia opened her eyes wide. ¡°Are we really going to be stuck here all day!?¡±


    ¡°She is. We don¡¯t have to be,¡± said Claire.


    The claim was met with a violent response. Arciel grabbed onto the lyrkress¡¯ shoulders, her fingers shaking and her eyes swirling. ¡°Surely, Claire, you would not be so cruel as to abandon a friend in such a time of need?¡±


    ¡°This is hardly a time of need.¡± The reckless earwarden raised a hand to push the other noble lady away, but stopped upon sensing an onlooker¡¯s gaze. She turned to the bearded gentleman instead, and stared until he averted his gaze before recommitting herself to the petty harassment. ¡°See? All you have to do is intimidate them.¡±


    ¡°That is far too Cadrian an approach. They may be our allies now, but will one day do to me as they are doing to the harlot, should I treat them so obtusely.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll try it anyway. You¡¯ll need to be an aspect at least if you want to cement your rule with violence.¡±


    ¡°I would much rather carry forward with a promise of prosperity.¡±


    ¡°Violence is better. Fewer headaches.¡±


    ¡°Oh, speaking of violence, wouldn¡¯t this be like, a reeeeaaaally good time for someone to try and attack us?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°I mean, you¡¯ve pretty much got a bunch of super important people here that are working with you and stuff, right?¡±


    Matthias laughed, his mandibles clattering noisily as he pressed his scythes into the ground. ¡°They¡¯d have to be crazy to try. We¡¯ve got ten times as many fighters as we had last time they attacked, and we¡¯ve put the fear of us into them already.¡±


    ¡°You are growing complacent, Matthias. We repelled a pair of units. They could very well bear down on us with the full brunt of the army¡¯s might should they be willing to bear the international dispute to follow.¡±


    ¡°The army¡¯s a joke. I¡¯d be more afraid of a few elites, myself,¡± said the mantis.


    ¡°I doubt they¡¯d get very far,¡± said Claire. She scanned the arena as she spoke, her eyes focusing on the many armed guards scattered throughout. ¡°Pollux has his own scattered around.¡±


    The statement was not exactly false, but it was backed by little of the moose¡¯s confidence. She had no idea exactly how strong the marquis¡¯ best soldiers were¡ªor if they were even present to begin with¡ªbut the common rabble polluting his ranks was practically worthless. His scouts, at least, encouraged career soldiers the world over to seek an untainted label. They were certainly resolved for death, but she had seen civilians that developed greater strength and speed after just a few weeks¡¯ worth of training.


    ¡°Whatever the case, I believe it is time that I return to entertaining our guests, lest I am willing to risk a loss of confidence.¡± Arciel reached for her fan, only to frown when her fingers found it nonpresent. It too was sitting on the admiral¡¯s coffee table.


    ¡°It¡¯s hardly been five minutes. You could probably waste a few more without anyone complaining,¡± said Matthias.


    ¡°It is precisely that attitude that has prevented you from earning your promotions, rhiar.¡±


    ¡°Eh, don¡¯t need ¡®em. The higher up the ranks I go, the less I get to go in swinging.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps an evaluation of your priorities may be in order.¡±


    The noble lady shook her head as she spun around and returned to the crowd where the hungry sharks awaited. It didn¡¯t even take a second for one to take the bait; she was approached immediately by a portly scyph whose tentacles were covered in gold rings.


    ¡°How wonderful it is to meet you, Princess. I am Arde Larggen, scyph wallspawner and the proprietor of the Arde Company.¡±


    ¡°The pleasure is mine, Arde. I am Arciel Vel¡¯khan, imperial bloodkraken, and heir to the Vel¡¯khanese throne.¡± It was the very same line she had repeated over a dozen times already. She was sick of speaking it, but alas, she had yet to meet or greet all of the fifty-some participants.


    ¡°I have heard many great things from Lord Ray¡¯esce, but I would like to confirm with you personally the details regarding our taxation policies going forward.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Mr. Larggen. The new administration shall endeavour to bring the taxation rate to a thirty-year low, with policies focused first and foremost on the growth of business. The flat rate tax per head is to be reduced to a single silver piece a year, while taxes pertaining to entrepreneurs and landowners is to be measured not as a percentage of revenue, but rather operating profits, the calculations of which may¡­¡±


    Claire could feel herself zoning out. She kept her eyes from drooping, but they slowly lost their focus. She looked around for something to sharpen her hazy mind, but there was nothing. She half wished for an incident, just so there would be something to do, but alas, the party continued undisturbed, boring and tiresome as ever.

 Chapter 243 - Scorching Embers

    Chapter 243 - Scorching Embers


    Claire blinked away her drowsiness as she inadvertently took a sip from a fine porcelain cup. It was early in the day, just a few hours past lunch. And perhaps that was why she suddenly found her replacement in the midst of her afternoon snack. Her body resisted when she tried to seize control. It refused to loosen its grip on the reins, snapping back and grumbling when she tried to forcibly snatch them away. The maids, unaware of the struggle, watched with a smile while the fake drowned herself in the deep orange tea.


    Each time it drank, she felt a wave of glee pulse through her disjointed system. Her lips twisted into a smile while her body relaxed into the soft, cushioned seat behind it. It was only after the cup was emptied that the fake finally began to relinquish control, yielding it to her whilst sharing a thought akin to a cheeky smile. She was about to stand, but her legs suddenly refused again when a thoraen maid entered the room with a fresh, piping-hot kettle. The replacement¡¯s anticipation washed over her like a cold shower, flooding her senses with another incomprehensible burst of joy.


    Though very much annoyed, Claire decided to use the opportunity to examine her surroundings. She knew that they were somewhere in the castle¡¯s west wing, based on the tower reflected in the window, but she found it difficult to make out the precise location. It was one of the many generic rooms whose sole purpose was to confuse a potential intruder. Officially, they were labeled as studies, but the chambers outnumbered the royals by a ratio of ten to one, and that was including the extended family.


    ¡°This will have to be your last cup. You¡¯re scheduled for a lesson with Durham in just over ten minutes.¡±


    Two waves of despair washed through the lady¡¯s body. The fake immediately tried to foist control onto the guest in her head, but Claire passed it right back. Only upon receiving it again did the abyssal horror recall that she had no stake in the affair at hand. It would be the fake that was scolded for skipping her lessons. Sensing the thought, the otherwise relieved mind began panicking all over again. She tried to wrest her body back from not-fake Claire, but it was too late. She had already thrown it away.


    Finally free to do as she pleased, Claire shot to her feet and bolted out the door. A very confused Beatrice shouted something or other after her, but she paid the maid no mind and ran straight down the hall. Given the building¡¯s scale, it would not have been unreasonable to expect that it would be cold. It had only been three weeks since the solstice, and they were still very much in the midst of winter. But even with spring nearly a dozen days away, it was as nice and toasty as an oven. Not that it mattered to the lyrkress. The homunculus didn¡¯t share her first form¡¯s sensitivity to the cold.


    The speed of her escape earned her a number of curious looks, but none of the servants or guards tried to stop her, even with an angry maid hot on her tail. If the local legends were to be believed, they had learned better following their experiences with Princess Octavia, who was feral enough to kick and bite without mercy.


    Claire was less violent and more agile. She leapt over a butler¡¯s trolley and slid between a guard¡¯s legs as she rounded a corner. Beatrice didn¡¯t quite give up, but the chase was effectively over. Her frame was too large to get around the obstacles, and she wasn¡¯t any faster than the lady she was after.


    On any other day, the halfbreed would have sealed her victory in stone by leaping out the window and navigating the castle from the outside, but the storm looming just beyond the glass suggested that it was impossible. The blizzard itself was not what stopped her; the windows were magically locked, charged with mana to maintain their current state even as the hail pounded against them. And if the storm couldn¡¯t get through, her fists were unlikely to prove any better.


    The interior was much more painful to traverse. Like the city built around it, the castle was constructed with a potential invasion in mind. Its halls were so twisted and convoluted that it often took fresh hires a full month to stop getting lost. In some places, accessing a neighbouring room would involve going up and down several flights of stairs, many of which were located in the strangest of places. Closets, trap doors, and moving bookcases were all key to reaching the ruling family¡¯s quarters.


    The main downside to such an approach were the extra rules that came with maintaining security. There could only be a single path to each final destination, and Claire had a rather obnoxious guard inbound. She would have to find the exit before he entered the home stretch and cornered her into her cage. Had she been more knowledgeable about the castle, she likely could have taken one secret escape route or other, but Octavia¡¯s wing was the only one she knew like the back of her hand.


    She did manage to find herself a stairwell by following the trail of servants and guards, but Durham stepped out of it before she could complete her escape. When she tried running past him, he caught her by the scruff and lifted her into the air. The tiny halfbreed soon found herself held eye to eye with a full three meters between her feet and the ground. She tried attacking his fingers, but to no avail. His grip was too tight.


    ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going?¡± he asked, with a grin.


    ¡°That is not the sort of question you should be asking a lady.¡± She focused her mana into her eyes as she spoke the response, but he didn¡¯t even react. ¡°Now let go of me, you perverted brute.¡±


    ¡°So you can talk? I knew I wasn¡¯t just imagining things last time.¡± He raised a brow, but continued carrying her back to her study.


    ¡°You were,¡± said Claire. ¡°Now let go of me before I put another rusty screw between your legs.¡±


    The man¡¯s lips twisted into a wince as a shiver ran all the way up his spine. ¡°Y¡¯know, princesses aren¡¯t supposed to threaten people¡¯s genitals like that. It¡¯s not exactly chaste. Or pure, for that matter.¡±


    ¡°And neither is the pile of filth that is your mind. Now put me down.¡±


    She laced the final phrase with magic and transformed it into a command. She was only half sure it would still work whilst she was possessing the homunculus, but the knight¡¯s fingers were shackled by a series of golden chains. They abided immediately by commands and plied his hands apart.


    ¡°Oh, come on. Now this is just unreasonable,¡± he said, with an awkward smile.


    ¡°Shut up, pervert. And stand down.¡±


    A second set of chains bound his lips, while a third bound him to the floor. It wasn¡¯t her magic, but rather the result of a contract enforced by the goddess of order. He had sworn absolute obedience in all but mind and speech to both the lady and her father.


    ¡°Alright, alright. I get it already. You don¡¯t feel like taking lessons today.¡± His words were muffled by his muzzle, but he was able to produce most of the sounds for them to make sense. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you alone, so just get rid of these damned chains already.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°No.¡±


    She kicked him in the side before continuing down the corridor with haste. Enforcing her knight¡¯s contract had come with an unwanted cost. Every use of it notified her father, and she had no intention of sticking around for long enough to see his ugly mug again.


    The lyrkress clenched her fists and made for Allegra¡¯s kitchen. Or wherever else her father¡¯s meals were prepared.


    In her head, it was simple. But in reality, it was on the opposite side of a fifty acre maze, and she was nowhere near as fast as she needed to be. She heard her father coming from a mile away, his hooves thundering as he bolted through the halls. There were plenty of rooms around, but hiding from him was impossible, not when he could see blood the same way she could see catgirls.


    It annoyed her to admit it, but she was cornered. Left with no other choice, she moved to the nearest door, gave it a twist, and flung her consciousness back into the abyss. More opportunities would come, so long as she was willing to wait.


    ___


    The next time Claire opened her eyes, it was in a dim cave with the faint dripping of water ever present. A few months ago, the sound had been more obvious, more present in the foreground, but with the recent developments, it was forced to play second fiddle to the shouts of its occupants, who were once again screaming at each other for no reason in particular.


    ¡°See! I told you this was going to happen! Why the fuck didn¡¯t you listen to me!?¡± One of the voices was deep and masculine, but he was shrieking like an angry housewife, his wails loud enough to put even a banshee to shame. ¡°I¡¯m your goddamn boss, and it¡¯s about time you showed me the deference you owe!¡±


    ¡°Well it¡¯s not my problem! I did it the way I was supposed to!¡± yelled an even shriller female.


    ¡°I told you that you had to keep it brief, but you decided that you had to be fancy and give the long version! Now look at what you¡¯ve done! You¡¯re going to have to give the short version anyway, and you haven¡¯t even got it ready! And that¡¯s ignoring the fact that everyone else is stuck listening twice!¡±


    She briefly considered shutting them up, but gave up on the idea soon after it formed. Another pair was all but sure to step up to the plate the moment that the first was silenced, but such was life in their base of operations.


    ¡°Why the actual fuck are you yelling at me!? Yell at her instead! It¡¯s her fault!¡±


    ¡°You think I haven¡¯t tried!? The whole reason I came to you was because screaming at her didn¡¯t work!¡±


    It didn¡¯t help that everyone was high strung. The part of the dungeon that they had made into their base appeared safe, but not all the non-combatants were able to calm themselves, even after being assured several times over that no monsters would spawn in the locations they occupied. The whole situation was only made worse when one particularly vertically-challenged pony had accidentally revealed that it was a former boss room responsible for more deaths than could be counted on ten hands. Dozens of formal complaints came in soon after, but their headquarters remained unchanged. The squid¡¯s top officials came back each time with the affirmation that Skyreach Spire was far more secure a stronghold than their ruined undersea base.


    ¡°Then drop her in without instructions,¡± shouted the woman. ¡°Who the hell cares what one random VIP is doing anyway?¡±


    ¡°I tried that too. Didn¡¯t you hear about the whole debacle with Lord Strollemn?¡±


    ¡°Wait, that was her?¡± Her voice was all that was needed for Claire to see her paling face.


    ¡°Aye. I watched her tear out his spine myself.¡±


    The dungeon was still far enough away from the Vel¡¯khanese capital that its course was not yet entirely obvious. They were circling away so that they could loop around and breach the city from the side after luring the queen into a false sense of security¡ªor at least that was the plan. Meltys could more or less manage the dungeon¡¯s speed and direction with the console on its otherwise empty tenth floor, but the eldritch bird claimed that it was a difficult and painstaking affair. The dungeon had the propensity to alter its trajectory at random, and it took constant supervision to keep it from moving wherever it pleased. Even assuming that it was perfectly driven, impact wasn¡¯t slated for another week; the operation would begin with the coming of spring.


    In the meantime, the forces that flew the rightful queen¡¯s flag focused on a mix of sabotage and defense. Their base was certainly a safe haven, but their other strongholds were not as well protected. Every day, the queen¡¯s task force would launch investigations not only into the nobility, but notable commoners and organisations as well. The effort had resulted in a number of losses, but so too had it come with an influx of fresh sympathisers and recruits; it was not just those disloyal to the crown that were being purged, but any with too deep a foot in the Vel¡¯khanese underworld.


    ¡°You sure we shouldn¡¯t just bench her?¡±


    ¡°Good luck with that one. She¡¯ll probably hit you just for bringing it up, and the princess¡¯ll be mad too. She¡¯s the one that ordered us to let her do whatever the hell she wants.¡±


    Arciel was happy to welcome new allies into their fold. Claire, on the other hand, was less optimistic. With the way things were going, the coming reign was sure to be wrought with corruption even with whatever plan the squid had in mind.


    To aid one such unscrupulous criminal was precisely the lyrkress¡¯ next mission. She hadn¡¯t paid attention to the details, but she vaguely recalled one of Arciel¡¯s subordinates mentioning something about a con artist in need of help. Claire preferred not extending her hand to such a lowlife, but the soldiers on his tail provided more experience than similarly leveled monsters. The erdbrechers in particular had been especially bountiful. They gave several times what she received from the already profitable locals, and they would always come running as soon as she caused a stir.


    ¡°We could just say that we couldn¡¯t deploy her because she was asleep.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m awake,¡± said Claire. She raised her giant, half-draconic head as she rose to her feet and turned towards the man. Though she didn¡¯t pay much of any attention to keeping it stable, neither the foxgirl, the lizard, nor the manatee sleeping atop her head budged an inch. ¡°And I¡¯m not going to hit people because I don¡¯t like their opinions. I¡¯m reasonable.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen you hit people for pretty much exactly that,¡± he replied, with an awkward laugh. ¡°Myself included.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Claire cocked her head and spoke nonchalantly, even while recalling an instance where she had kicked him against a wall and gored him with her talons. ¡°I¡¯ve never hit you.¡±


    ¡°Right, of course not.¡± Admiral Ray¡¯esce coughed into one of his fins and turned to his pale, fish-tailed subordinate. ¡°You see why we listen now?¡±


    ¡°...Yes sir.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± He turned to Claire again and handed her several rolls of parchment. ¡°These are the people you¡¯re going to be assigned to guard this time. And I think this doesn¡¯t need saying, but please don¡¯t kill them this time.¡±


    ¡°As long as they don¡¯t try poisoning me again.¡± Her massive, serpentine body shrunk into a tiny humanoid frame, adorned from head to toe in expensive, silken garments.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t kill them even if they try poisoning you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you silly old fish. I would never dream of it.¡± The noble lady giggled as she hid a bashful smile. Her cheeks were red, and her expression was perfect, but the admiral only shook his head. He had been flustered the first few times, but he wasn¡¯t about to let her trick him again.


    ¡°Either way, we¡¯re expecting them to attack in the next three days. Might be a bit longer, but your job¡¯s to watch over them until it happens. We¡¯ll send Lia to reinforce when she¡¯s done with her current assignment.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Claire flipped through the documents and found one with a map. And then, without waiting for any further instruction, nor any of the other soldiers present in the room, flapped her wings and took off.

 Chapter 244 - Scorching Embers II

    Chapter 244 - Scorching Embers II


    It was evening by the time Claire made it back to Vel¡¯khagan. Rather than heading straight for her final destination, she had sought Meltys for a spar and Arciel for a chat before departing. The dungeon was much closer to the city than it had been during their initial raid, but it still took Pollux¡¯s warship a few hours to ferry the soldiers between the base and the city. Officially, he was continuing his assault, but the queen had long caught on. Perhaps that was why she had hired mercenaries from the south to begin with, for she had not the means to publicly condone him without causing an international dispute.


    Despite her many detours, Claire was the first on the scene. The floating castle was still a distant speck on the horizon by the time she landed just outside the city and entered through its eastern gate. She was in her true form throughout the process. The guards had long committed her to memory, not as an individual, but rather one of the many beasts tamed by the mysterious Ms. Lia. She hated the label, especially the part that dictated her the cat¡¯s property, but she had ultimately decided against correcting the misunderstanding. It was less of a hassle with things as they were; they never asked any questions or checked any of her belongings. It helped that some of the guards were afraid of getting too close, even though the only ones she had ever lashed out at were the chronic scale-touchers.


    The qiligon flew another five-odd kilometers within the city limits before transforming in midair, donning her usual attire, and landing not too far from the city¡¯s core. The building was on fourth street, and the only description she received was that it was impossible to miss.


    ¡°Some details would have been nice.¡± She muttered under her breath as she walked down the road. There were certainly a number of standouts, but none grabbed her as being any more eccentric or ridiculous than the others. ¡°They all look equally ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°Really? ¡®Cause I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s gotta be one of those two,¡± said Sylvia.


    She pointed a paw at each of the buildings in question. One was made of tin and bore the shape of a large pig built atop a dozen meters of scaffolding. Its entrance doubled as the swine¡¯s nose, and was accessible only by way of a tall ladder. Its rival, sitting just across the street, was a gingerbread path decorated on both sides with a garden of sweets. At its far end, nestled into the very back of the property, was a massive, ceramic cake. The snow sat perfectly on top of it, fitting into pre-carved notches to form a thick layer of frosting.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± said Claire, ¡°but the two at the end of the road seem more appropriate.¡± She gestured with her tail, first towards a dreary mausoleum with skeletons adorning its exterior, and then at a glass building with all its interiors obscured by thick black drapes.


    ¡°Huh!? I mean, I guess the one with curtains is kinda suspicious, but isn¡¯t the other one supposed to be one of Xekkur¡¯s temples?¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s the only other place that stands out. And a temple is the perfect place for a con artist to hide.¡±


    ¡°I dunno, that seems kinda risky.¡±


    ¡°It is.¡±


    Those that abused the authority of the gods were sure to be smited for their misdeeds, but that was assuming they were caught by the deities in question. The pantheon¡¯s members, be they supreme beings or celestials, were well known for carefully monitoring only those they marked as persons of interest. They were too busy to concern themselves with every last mortal, for it was through the continuous use of their powers that the world was maintained.


    Or at least that was the tale as told by the scriptures. Having met several gods herself, Claire was less than convinced that they were as busy as they made themselves seem. Flux had watched over large swaths of her journey, and Alfred¡¯s eyes were equally difficult to escape. He had, on a whole seven occasions, pulled her into world chat just to complain about the nonexistence of her nightlife. She was keeping a careful count over the running total; it would be the same as the number of times she stabbed him.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t the papers have an address on them or something? What¡¯d they say?¡± asked the hat.


    ¡°Just that I¡¯d recognize it immediately.¡± That, of course, was a lie. She simply hadn¡¯t been bothered to check the exact number, with the description being what it was.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± Sylvia pressed a paw to her chin. ¡°Oh, I know! You already memorized their faces and names and stuff, right?¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Then we can just snoop around and check out each building and see if you recognize anyone.¡± The fuzzy passenger leapt off her mount¡¯s head and tip-toed through the air. ¡°We can probably just use a bubble or something to stop ourselves from getting caught.¡±


    The longmoose paused for a moment before nodding and giving her companion a squeeze. ¡°Okay.¡±


    When they reached the closest building, the one shaped like a hog, Claire floated up to one of the many apertures lining its porky metal flank and cast her eyes inside. She slowly looked around it, staring carefully at each face she spotted. Of course, she wasn¡¯t looking for a perfect match. The illustrations had been fairly liberal, to say the least, and they were heavily supplemented with descriptors in text.


    Her primary protection target was a giant dog-woman, not a huskar like Natalya¡¯s godmother, but a full-blown bipedal canine that stood at over three meters tall. Her husband and children, the other beneficiaries, were of the same race, but she saw no such people present within the diner, whose staff was made up almost entirely of pigs with chef hats. They were not monsters, but rather the domestic variety typically raised for livestock. The porkers were waddling around the restaurant, pushing trays to the tables with their noses and setting them with the tong-like grasping tools they held in their mouths.


    ¡°That¡¯s just messed up,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°It looks sanitary enough. I doubt they have any mice this far off the ground,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°No, not that, dummy! Look at the menu!¡±


    Claire briefly glanced at the text scrawled all over the floor. ¡°What about it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s pork! The only thing they¡¯re serving is pork!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see the problem.¡± The lyrkress lightly clamped a hand over the canine¡¯s jaws, holding them just loosely enough that she didn¡¯t really impede the other halfbreed¡¯s speech. ¡°Now stop screaming. Everyone¡¯s looking.¡±


    ¡°Mmmphhhh¡­ How do you not get how messed up it is!?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not big enough a deal to kick up a fuss. It¡¯s probably just their culture.¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t think eating your own kind is supposed to¡­ wait a second! I almost forgot you were part lamia! You¡¯re just as messed up!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just narrow minded.¡±


    She pinched the fox¡¯s cheeks as she hovered across the street, slowly dropping to ground level as she approached the confectionery shop. Unlike the other store, where business was booming, the dessert-shaped enterprise had not a single customer hovering around outside. Peeking through the curtains told a similar story. There seemed to be someone in the kitchen, from what Claire could tell from all the humming and clattering, but the cupcake-like chairs were stacked atop the scone-shaped tables, and the front door was locked. There weren¡¯t any signs explaining why, but it was clearly closed for business.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure it isn¡¯t this one,¡± said Sylvia.


    The lyrkress nodded and started down the street. ¡°It¡¯d be hard for anyone to take business talks seriously at a store that looks this stupid.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmmm, that¡¯s not really what I meant, but I guess we can think about it that way too,¡± said the fox.


    Claire cocked her head.


    ¡°Well, I mean like¡­ selling sweets doesn¡¯t really make a lot of money, right? ¡®Cause you¡¯re just selling stuff to kids? So I¡¯m pretty sure whoever¡¯s running the shop has gotta be like reeeeaaaally nice ¡®cause they could probably do anything else even though they¡¯re just running themselves into the ground.¡±


    A degree was added to the tilt of the scalewarden¡¯s skull. ¡°What are you talking about? Children rarely come to places like this.¡±


    ¡°H-huh?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯d be safer to send their servants to fetch expensive goods like cakes.¡±


    ¡°E-expensive!? But the girls that sold sweets in Al¡¯s books were all super poor and stuff, and they always had to whore themselves out to make ends meet. It was really sad ¡®cause they just wanted everyone to be happy, but then they always got mindbroken.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t confuse fantasy with reality.¡± The vixen¡¯s forehead was greeted with a flick. ¡°Especially not if the fantasies are born of Alfred¡¯s mind.¡±


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Mmmnnnn¡­ I dunno. Al¡¯s whole schtick is that he makes fantasies real. I¡¯m pretty sure us foxes only exist because he thought us up, so I¡¯m like, pretty much a mix between fantasy and reality in the first place.¡±


    ¡°Not really. You exist.¡±


    ¡°I know I do, but it¡¯s really not that simple,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°Try telling me that again when you aren¡¯t that simple.¡±


    ¡°Hey! That¡¯s super mean! I¡¯m not simple!¡±


    Claire buried her face into the fox¡¯s head with a smile, but otherwise remained silent, even after a brief delay.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire?¡± Sylvia looked up, confused, only to receive a gentle headpat. ¡°Oh, what the heck!¡± The angry fox puffed out her cheeks, but leaned into the accompanying chin scratch. ¡°I hate you,¡± she huffed. ¡°You¡¯re such a meanie.¡±


    ¡°I know. Now shush.¡±


    They were coming up on the curtained building, the entirety of which was perfectly covered with several layers of deep black cloth. There wasn¡¯t a single hole in the defenses; she couldn¡¯t find any angles to peek inside, no matter how many times she circled around the perimeter.


    ¡°Suspicious,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Mhm. Totally,¡± agreed her pet. ¡°They¡¯re like, basically screaming that they¡¯re doing something shady.¡± She moved her paws towards her eyes and formed knots, but Claire stopped her with a pinch of the nose. ¡°No seeing through everything. It¡¯s more fun if we do it the normal way.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ okay.¡± Sylvia squeezed her way out of the embrace and climbed up onto her mount¡¯s head. ¡°Wait, where¡¯s the door anyway?¡±


    ¡°Over there.¡± The horse pointed at the large hole situated just behind the building. It had an entrance sign hanging just outside, as well as a mailbox overflowing with letters aplenty.


    ¡°Wait a second¡­ why¡¯s the front door in the backyard?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Claire, with a shrug, ¡°but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s what we¡¯re looking for anymore.¡±


    ¡°Wait, really?¡± asked Sylvia, with a trio of blinks. ¡°Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s like, super duper suspicious with all the curtains and stuff?¡±


    ¡°I do, but anyone visiting a place like this is sure to keep their guard up. I didn¡¯t think about it earlier, but our instructions hardly make any sense. No successful con artist would be doing business anywhere conspicuous.¡±


    ¡°Mnnn, I guess you¡¯re right. It¡¯s a lot easier to get tricked when you aren¡¯t expecting someone to try and trick you.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°Wait, if you¡¯re so convinced that this isn¡¯t the place, then how come we¡¯re still going inside?¡± The fox asked the question as her mount slowly floated down the pit. At a glance, it didn¡¯t look all that deep, but it went a solid thirty meters into the sandy dirt before finally bending its way towards the building.


    ¡°So we can find out what it¡¯s for.¡±


    The underground area¡¯s construction was just as curious. The whole tunnel was filled with curtains, and it got a little darker for each woolen wall she passed.


    ¡°Wait, why the heck do they have all these curtains underground?¡± said Sylvia, as she fiddled with a piece of cloth. It was soft and fluffy enough for the girl to mistake it as her own tail. ¡°And how the heck are they so clean? There¡¯s literally dirt everywhere.¡±


    ¡°I doubt they¡¯re made of anything ordinary.¡±


    At the end of the cloth-gated path was a long, thin ladder leading up into the building¡¯s interior. Its rungs were slippery and worn down, and it appeared rather unsteady to begin with. They were buried not in solid ground, but wet compacted sand, the stability of which would immediately be called into question as soon as one considered the possible range of a guest¡¯s weight.


    Claire extended a hand towards the hatch at the top of the climb, but it opened before she could touch the handle. Her ears were filled with the hissing of air, while her eyes locked onto a strange-looking elf in a dark brown habit. The first thing she noticed, aside from his tiny, knife-shaped ears, was the book in his hand. It was styled like a scripture, carefully bound with pages of yellowed parchment.


    ¡°Welcome lost lamb,¡± he said, ¡°to the godless church.¡±


    For a moment, the lyrkress was frozen, her eyes locked to the priest¡¯s fake beard and artificial bald spot. She regained her function when he extended a hand and offered to help her up the ladder, only to shirk away. The elf¡¯s arm was still in the doorway, but she slammed the hatch shut and made for the way she came.


    ¡°Huh? We¡¯re leaving already?¡± asked Sylvia, as she stared at the ownerless arm. ¡°Weren¡¯t we going to check it out?¡±


    ¡°We did,¡± said Claire. ¡°And we found an elven anti-church.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know, but we didn¡¯t even look inside!¡±


    ¡°You can if you want. But I¡¯m not going to listen to another one of their rants.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t necessarily the contents of their sermons that annoyed her, but rather the preaching itself. She had just woken up a few hours ago, and she wasn¡¯t exactly keen on being put right back to sleep¡ªthe knife ears¡¯ lectures were even more boring than Allegra¡¯s.


    ¡°Awww¡­ I¡¯m kinda curious but I really don¡¯t wanna go alone.¡±


    ¡°You can drag the cat over later. We¡¯ll be in the area for a while.¡±


    ¡°Oh! That¡¯s a great idea! Maybe we can have Ciel tag along while we¡¯re at it, since she¡¯s been all busy and stressed and stuff lately.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. You should.¡± Claire fought back a mischievous grin as she imagined the moon-worshipper arguing with an angry elf. ¡°It¡¯d be a good way to get her mind off of everything.¡±


    She floated her way back out of the hole and looked towards their final destination. The temple was not quite as fancy as the one located on Godsent Cliff, being a tiny branch meant for those too busy to walk to the opposite side of town, but it was unmistakably one of Xekkur¡¯s; it was only the god of death and ascension that blended so many skeletons and skulls into his motif. The building itself was made of a dim grey stone, the very same kind so often used to mark the tombs of the dead. The evergreens residing on the temple¡¯s grounds were bare, and so too were any branches that poked into the deity¡¯s domain.


    Around the roots rested the bodies of his followers, dried out bare bones granted peace beyond their mortal coils. It was a practice that some found questionable, and perhaps even disturbing, but it was Xekkur¡¯s will for the dead to nourish the living. In that way, he was akin to Kael¡¯ahruus, though the precise details of their principles differed greatly in nuance. For the lion-faced god, death was a result. It was the thrill of the hunt that mattered, and the consequences thereof were irrelevant. But for the lord of corpses, it was exactly the opposite. There was no meaning in the slaughter itself, but through death, an entity could nourish another in both body and spirit. And it was neither the killing nor its process that was relevant, only the final result.


    Because their concepts were so closely adjacent, the pair was often worshipped together, viewed by the general public as close friends or rivals. But to those that studied theology with more earnesty, their relationship was seen as that of silent acceptance. Each would allow the other to step on his toes so long as it was not done intentionally or with malicious intent.


    Whatever the case, Claire cared little. She wandered onto the temple grounds and bore with the pain that came with her flaring divinity.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see any dogs,¡± she said, as she scanned the building. The first floor was open enough that everything could be seen. There was only a single room, used as the main hall, as well as a staircase leading down beneath the soil.


    ¡°Maybe they¡¯re further in?¡± suggested Sylvia.


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    She stretched her ears, but caught nothing in particular. The only heartbeat she heard belonged to the receptionist dozing off at the desk. In any other temple, such a lack of staff would likely have been considered absurd, or perhaps even taken for the deity¡¯s downfall, but the death god¡¯s was known for its eccentric priests and priestesses, the lot of which would often head out to murder the local monsters. It didn¡¯t help that many were retired veterans of war or adventure. The zealous fighters ate all their kills without failure and often shared it with the locals in need as well. Their penchant for indiscriminate death, however, meant that the meat was not always delicious. It was from this that their label was derived; to call a dish Xekkurian was to say that it had an equal chance of being hellish and heavenly, the truth of which could only be determined through tasting.


    Claire spent a few minutes wandering around the empty underground space before making her way to the atrium and sitting in front of the altar. She wasn¡¯t quite done with Griselda¡¯s divine quest just yet, but saw no harm in picking up another.


    ¡°O Xekkur, great god of mysterious stir fries and wanton destruction. I thank you greatly for all the nourishment I have derived from slaughter, and greedy as it may be, beseech from you a task you would deem worthy of your blessing.¡±


    She waited for about a minute before standing up and spinning around. It seemed that the god was unwilling to respond, but that came as no surprise. The two other temples she had visited over the past few months, belonging to the goddess of spring rains, and the goddess of barren forests respectively, had both also ignored her.


    Upon leaving the room, however, she found a new message echoing through her mind.


    Log Entry 37162


    You have received a divine revelation.


    It would be more accurate to describe wanton destruction, as well as destruction as a whole, to be more of a concept you would find within Builledracht¡¯s domain.


    That said, I do have to give credit where it¡¯s due. I have just reviewed all the deaths that you have incited, and I must say that I am rather impressed by not only your propensity to kill, but also your ability to reflect upon your mistakes and further nourish yourself with the deaths that you have wrought. However, I have found that your reflection is shallow and lackluster, and I am not yet willing to provide you with a blessing.


    I find that assigning a quest for such a task is rather meaningless, and will personally judge when you have satisfied my requirements, at which time I will reward you with a blessing. I will inspect you periodically, but you may visit any of my temples at any given point in time for an immediate review.


    The conditions were extremely vague, and she failed to see the shortcoming he described, but she walked away with her feelings on the more positive side of neutral. It was effectively a promise, so long as she refrained from getting on his bad side. All she would really have to do, she figured, was fight more foes like Meltys, who were capable of pushing her to the brink and beyond.


    ¡°Hey, uhm, Claire? Sorry to ruin your good mood¡­¡± said Sylvia, as they exited the temple. ¡°But I don¡¯t think we found the people we¡¯re supposed to be looking for.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯ll just have to wait for everyone else.¡±


    ¡°That sounds kinda boring¡­ Can¡¯t we like, try staking out or something to see if we can find them?¡±


    ¡°I doubt it. If we didn¡¯t find them after all our investigating, I doubt we¡¯ll randomly fi¡ª¡±


    She froze before she could finish the sentence and turned towards the man that had just turned onto the street.


    ¡°Sometimes, I wonder which of us is the idiot.¡±


    ¡°Huh!? What¡¯s that supposed to mean!?


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    Her eyes remained fixed on a dog, a middle-aged, bipedal dog that stood at roughly twice the height of a man, dressed from head to toe in a patissier¡¯s gown.

 Chapter 245 - Scorching Embers III

    Chapter 245 - Scorching Embers III


    Kane swallowed a ball of saliva as he nervously tiptoed down the street. His eyes darted all over, stopping briefly on every shadow that disturbed the otherwise calm city street. He couldn¡¯t help it. It wasn¡¯t safe to be out and about, and the theatre¡ªthe building he had just passed¡ªhad just the right bits and bobs to spook him. The dark splotches it cast were humanoid in shape, thanks largely in part to the wooden figurines placed atop its roof.


    He was beginning to regret going out for ingredients. They could have easily lived off the remaining sugar and flour for a solid few weeks. It wouldn¡¯t have been healthy, but at the very least, he wouldn¡¯t have had to endure the terror that was venturing back and forth between his home and the market. It had only taken about an hour and a half for him to buy everything and make his way home, but he felt at least a hundred years older. He had spent the whole trip shaking like an aspen leaf, cowering before every gaze that happened to find itself upon his frame.


    The man was three meters tall when he stood at his full height, but less than half that when he proceeded on all fours with his back hunched and his tail between his legs. In his mind, his cowardice was not at all to be blamed. The queen¡¯s assassins could be lurking around any corner with their blades drawn and ready, and he was like a splotch of paint on an empty canvas. While their shop would not have been nearly as popular back home in Kurnagy, given how average it was amongst its peers, he was beginning to suspect that it would be better for them to return. The money they earned was worth little when weighed against the threats to their lives. His wife, however, had refused, citing that they couldn¡¯t simply pack up and abandon their home.


    It began with an innocent transaction. They had been invited to cater for an event at a nobleman¡¯s manor, some four or five years ago. They rejoiced at the time; it was a rare, lucrative opportunity that came with wallets crammed full of gold. For three days and three nights, they steeled their focus to ensure that everything, everything, was perfect. It was hard work, but their efforts bore fruit. The catering event spawned numerous similar opportunities; their names spread through the ranks of the nobility like wildfire, and they soon became one of the most popular and prestigious catering services positioned within the city¡¯s walls.


    Meeting the sudden uptick in demand was impossible. Kane himself was good for nothing in the kitchen and focused primarily on menial tasks. Their son had inherited his mother¡¯s refined nose, but even with the Ryllian¡¯s chefs being of such renown, none of the locals they had hired were able to live up to their standard. With only two cooks in the kitchen, they were forced to turn down most of the requests for their service. Their bookings grew more competitive with every season, and before long, they found themselves with the upper hand in their negotiations. The powerful nobles that had elevated their shop bent to their will and abided by their demands. Of course, they never asked for anything too absurd, only the occasional small favour here and there. At its core, Kane¡¯s Sweet Cons was just a tiny Ma and Pa Shop run by a family of immigrants hoping to get by. They had no intention of budding their noses into the locals¡¯ political games.


    Their lack of diligence, however, was precisely what drove their downfall. They had failed to recognize one of the customers they had nonchalantly declined as a direct aide to the queen. It wasn¡¯t an unjustified refusal. They were already overbooked, and had not the time to experiment with the absurd request that was creating a cake with blood as a central ingredient. When the man in question discovered that they were serving at one of Count Ray¡¯esce¡¯s parties instead. He declared that they had cast their lot and stormed off.


    It was not until they spoke to one of the admiral¡¯s servants, some two weeks later, that they learned of the man¡¯s identity and the political forces that had fueled his claim. They had been informed that they would be assigned guards if they determined that the threat was relevant. And just three days ago, they had received a letter claiming that it very much was.


    All three of those days, Kane had spent trembling in terror. Maura, his wife, insisted on continuing as usual, but he had shut down the storefront in the interest of their safety. He had even volunteered to go get the groceries, even though his tail refused to part from the nook between his legs. It was his duty as the man of the house to shoulder any risk to their persons.


    And that was what brought him back to the present. He was already on fourth street; the end was in sight, and he was sure to make it if he just sprinted, but he didn¡¯t dare. His senses had started to tingle as soon as he rounded the corner. A shiver ran up his spine, and a whine inadvertently escaped his throat. He wanted¡ªneeded¡ªto flee. He couldn¡¯t tell where the observer was, but he knew that someone was there, stalking him through the urban jungle.


    He felt like he could see something out of the corner of his eye, a faint, blue, glowing something. But it vanished whenever he turned towards it. It couldn¡¯t have been a hallucination. It hovered too well on the far edges of his peripheral vision and neatly vanished behind him whenever he turned. He didn¡¯t manage to catch it until he looked at a nearby shop¡¯s window and saw its reflection hovering behind him.


    It was a massive, blue-white serpent with legs. Looming just behind him with its jaws open and ready to consume him. He shrieked when he saw it and bolted straight home. His groceries spilled all over the street as he ran, but he didn¡¯t care. Not when he was about to be murdered by a monster. He fumbled for his key and missed the hole three times before finally getting it into the doorframe. But it didn¡¯t turn. He twisted and twisted, but the metal remained exactly where it was, as the figure behind him closed in.


    He could hear the footsteps, the crushing of the fresh snow underneath as it lumbered after him. It took two more tries for the man to finally give up and spin around with a banana brandished in his trembling hands.


    Facing it, however, led him to question his sanity. It was not the toothy behemoth he had hallucinated, but rather a small girl with a similar colouration. The fruits that he had dropped were floating behind and around her. He suspected from the xylomancy that she was likely some sort of elf, but she had too many extraneous parts.


    He was halfway through thanking the girl by the time he finally looked at her face. He immediately broke into a cold sweat. It poured from his mouth in the form of a nervous drool, intensifying for every moment that the silence persisted. She was smiling, but not in a way that was good for his heart. Her body language seemed genuine at a glance. Her lips were curved, her eyes were filled with kindness, and her ears were twitching, but something about the air around her was off. It was too rusty. Even with a dysfunctional, half-sensitive nose, he could pick up on the faint scent of blood still lingering about her person.


    It came alongside a whiff of bird fat, a combination that told a story in and of itself. She had just killed a bird, sometime within the day. And she looked nothing like the part of a butcher¡¯s daughter.


    All the blaring alarms came together to form an obvious conclusion. Count Ray¡¯esce¡¯s guards were too late. The girl was an assassin, and she had come for him straight after killing a penguin, or perhaps a gull. Maybe even the mayor, given that he was a mix of both.


    He was dead. His whole family was dead. All because they had mistakenly offended the crown. He screamed and threw his whole basket at her before bursting through the door and locking it behind him. The border collie immediately reinforced the barricade with chairs and tables, before adding his own weight to the pile.


    ¡°Is that you, Honey? What¡¯s with all the noise?¡± He could hear his wife¡¯s voice from within the kitchen, but he didn¡¯t dare raise his voice to answer, nor was he even able to make out all of her words. His heart was beating like a drum, and tears were flowing from the corners of his eyes. The only thing he could hear in its usual definition was the ringing in his ears.


    Maura sighed when she stuck her head out of the kitchen and caught him in the midst of his panic. She placed her chef¡¯s hat on the counter, took off her gloves, and walked over to the door. ¡°Oh, by the goddess. Enough of that! I told you, Kane, we¡¯re going to be fine. No one is going to attack us.¡±


    He slowly, silently shook his head and gestured towards the door, but she threw him aside and began rearranging the furniture. She was joined soon after by the desks and tables themselves, who got up on their own and moved back to their previous positions. Perhaps because she was too busy to notice, not even this fazed Maura. She continued moving around the room, stacking the chairs with the help of an invisible hand.


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    Kane shook his head and tried pleading with his wife to stop, but he couldn¡¯t find the words, and one of the chairs lightly bonked him on the head when he tried to physically interfere. And then, with a click, the lock was undone. The door swung open, the bells hanging off of it ringing to sign the killer¡¯s advent. Kane charged her as a last ditch effort, but a kick to the jaw sent him spiralling to the floor.


    ¡°Is he always like this?¡± Claire bent over next to the giant border collie, and after prodding him with her tail, set his rearranged grocery basket down in front of him.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know the half of it,¡± said the female. She paused to look the intruder up and down, carefully scrutinizing her outfit before settling on her face.


    ¡°Claire Augustus, abyssal hoarfrost scalewarden.¡± The former lyrkress got back to her feet and performed a quick curtsy. The formality was hardly necessary given the circumstances, but she decided to follow through regardless. It had been a while since she introduced herself with her full name.


    ¡°Oh, and I¡¯m Sylvia! Errrm, Sylvia Redleaf, fox or something,¡± said her fluffy companion.


    ¡°Nice to meet you both, I¡¯m Maura Doyle, chardherder,¡± she said, with a toothy grin. ¡°You must be the guards my husband mentioned the other day.¡±


    ¡°Kinda!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Oh yeah, so I¡¯ve been wondering for a while now, but weren¡¯t you guys supposed to be con artists or something? How come your store looks like a cake shop?¡±


    ¡°Con artists?¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence as two confused canids exchanged glances with a blank slate.


    ¡°We¡¯re not con artists,¡± said the dog lady. ¡°We¡¯re confectionery artists.¡±


    ¡°Ohhhhh¡­ No wonder they said that we¡¯d know which shop it was right away¡­¡± said Sylvia. She shifted her eyes towards the overly horizontal moose responsible for the misunderstanding.


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what a con artist would say.¡± Claire narrowed her eyes as she scanned the mostly empty room.


    ¡°Oh, come on!¡± Sylvia leapt from her head to her shoulders and tugged on one of her ears. ¡°Now you¡¯re just being silly.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± The lyrkress pinched the fox¡¯s nose and directed her gaze out the window. ¡°You¡¯re just too quick to believe what people tell you.¡±


    ¡°No I¡¯m not! You¡¯re just throwing a fit ¡®cause you¡¯re too embarrassed to admit that you misheard.¡±


    ¡°False.¡± Claire hugged the fox extra hard.


    ¡°Ow, ow, ow! My ribs!¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t have ribs if you don¡¯t exist.¡±


    ¡°Huh!? What kind of logic is that! And wait, weren¡¯t you the one that said that I didn¡¯t not exist! You can¡¯t just suddenly backpedal on it ¡®cause it¡¯s convenient! Make up your mind!¡±


    ¡°No.¡± She squeezed with even more of her strength, a small smile on her lips all the while.


    The dog lady reacted with a start when the fox projected a more translucent fox emerging from her mouth, but otherwise watched over them with a smile. It was only when they fully settled down that she finally began to speak. ¡°Will you be able to cover the morning and evening shifts with just the two of you?¡±


    ¡°Oh, uhmm¡­ there¡¯s actually a whole bunch of us coming, but I dunno exactly how many there are. Some commander or something is gonna drop by and explain it later, but it¡¯s probably gonna be a while before they show up.¡±


    ¡°A commander? They¡¯re sending someone that important?¡± The dog lady opened her eyes wide.


    ¡°Mhm!¡±


    ¡°I told you, Dear.¡± Kane slowly got up to the ground, a paw against his still-ringing head. ¡°We¡¯re in some real deep¡­¡± he looked around briefly before he continued, ¡°shit right now. We pissed off the wrong people.¡±


    ¡°T-that can¡¯t be right. All we do is sell sweets, and besides, you¡¯ve always had a penchant for blowing everything out of proportion.¡±


    ¡°I¡®ve never blown anything out of proportion! It¡¯s you that never takes it seriously enough! Remember that time with the truffles?¡±


    ¡°What in the goddess¡¯ name, Kane!? I can¡¯t believe you¡¯d bring something that embarrassing up in front of our guests!¡±


    ¡°Like hell it matters! They don¡¯t even know what the fuck we¡¯re talking about!¡±


    The argument continued until a much smaller dog walked out of the kitchen and smacked both chardherders over the head with a pan. ¡°Both of you shut up. You¡¯re bothering the guests.¡±


    ¡°T-they¡¯re guards, sweetie.¡± His mother, who was already sitting down like a good pup, raised a paw in protest, but she was mercilessly smacked again.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. They¡¯re not family, and that makes them guests.¡±


    ¡°R-right, good point,¡± said Maura, as she rubbed her head.


    ¡°Good.¡± The meter-tall canine turned to his other parent. ¡°And Dad? What did I tell you about minding your language? You¡¯re going to have to shake your bad habits if we¡¯re going to keep catering to the nobility.¡±


    He was barely a meter tall; his parents towered over him even when seated, but they were both entirely subservient. He waited until he was done disciplining them before craning a neck behind him and shooting the curious onlookers a quick glance. ¡°Ash! Grab some of the apple danishes we made in the morning! The ones that are just done cooling off!¡±


    ¡°Okay! One sec!¡± There was a set of hurried footsteps followed soon after by a child of maybe ten sprinting out of the kitchen with a tray in hand. ¡°Oh crap!¡± She tripped on her way out, but the confections were unharmed, caught by a series of vectors and placed back on the tray before they could hit the ground. The grumbling child rubbed her nose as she sat up, only to cower in fear as she spotted her angry brother out of the corner of her eye. ¡°Eep!¡±


    ¡°How many times do I have to tell you not to run in the kitchen!¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡± The child flashed an unapologetic smile as she handed over the plate. ¡°But it¡¯s okay because nothing broke or fell, see?¡±


    The older child frowned as he accepted the tray and approached the two halfbreeds. Rather than an apologetic look, like the type one would expect from a man greeting guests, he wore an expression not unlike that of a hungry shark. ¡°Have some, and then try telling me we¡¯re con artists again.¡±


    Sylvia was the first to partake. She slid halfway down Claire¡¯s arm, nabbed the closest specimen, and gave it a nibble. ¡°Woah, this is tasty!¡± Her eyes sparkled as she spoke, the words only half intelligible, thanks to the way she immediately stuffed the rest of it into her cheeks as would a squirrel or hamster. The lyrkress took a few moments to contemplate voicing the observation before sampling one of the tarts herself.


    The crust had a thin crunchy shell, but the soft bread within had been puffed to perfection. It had a pleasant buttery flavour, with earthy notes from the oils used in the dough¡¯s base. It paired well with the flavour of the fruit, which itself was divided between the fresh produce and hot jam.


    ¡°You¡¯re con artists.¡±


    But a well-rounded flavour profile was not by any means enough to stop Claire in her tracks. To add further insult to injury, she put the half-eaten pastry back on the tray as she pulled up a chair with a vector and sat down.


    The boy was left in a stunned silence. Completely stupefied by the evaluation. He even tried a bite of the half eaten pastry and confirmed that it lived up to his standard before slowly returning his eyes to the guest.


    Ignoring him, Claire turned to his father with an icy cold stare. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you leaving if you know you¡¯ve been marked?¡±


    ¡°W-what do you mean?¡± stuttered Kane.


    ¡°You¡¯re an idiot.¡± Claire answered the dog¡¯s question with a cold, unamused stare. ¡°Pack your things. Come back in a week.¡±


    ¡°W-we couldn¡¯t possibly do that!¡± shouted the dog. ¡°Who knows what they¡¯ll do to the shop while we¡¯re gone! We might not even have a home to return to by the time we get back!¡±


    The horse looked at the family¡¯s other members, expecting at least some disagreement, but much to her annoyance, they all seemed to be in accord.


    ¡°We are chardherders,¡± said the son. ¡°You might not understand, but to our kind, our territory is our pride. It¡¯s even more important than our lives. It¡¯s ¡®cause we bleed that ou¡ª¡±


    Claire silenced the child with a glare. The rest of the family began to panic, but she met them all with the same treatment, opening more eyes across her body to suppress all their complaints before they could kick up a fuss.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°Nowhere.¡±


    ¡°Then how come you¡¯re dragging everyone out the door?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    A small smile across her lips, she burst out of the establishment and made for the sky.

 Chapter 246 - Scorching Embers IV

    Chapter 246 - Scorching Embers IV


    ¡°It has come to my attention that you are causing undue trouble.¡±


    Arciel breathed a sigh as she entered the room that Claire had turned into a makeshift dungeon. In and of itself, the extra ward was a decent location to house their guests. There were enough beds for all four visitors. There was even a stove on one side of the enclosure, accompanied by a washroom in the opposite corner. And while there weren¡¯t many ingredients of note, they were within earshot of many a minder that could aid them in retrieving whatever it was they desired. Convenient as it may have been, however, there was a tiny problem with her choice of location, namely, it doubled as the resident medical facility in both name and purpose. There had been a trio of weary soldiers resting up in the room just a few minutes prior. Granted, chasing them out did more good than harm. They were already fully healed and using their prior injuries as excuses to slack off, but either way, the lyrkress¡¯ sudden commandeering had created a scenario where those in need of treatment would find themselves with a lack of immediate access.


    That inconvenience alone was not what called for Arciel¡¯s intervention. The healers could take care of most injuries without additional supplies or facilities, and the medical bay was more a place for the sick than it was for the wounded. As it were, there were no patients in need of such treatment, and thus, no reason to avoid putting the space to use. Nay, the reason for the princess¡¯ summon was instead the direction in which the mission had been taken. The kidnapped confectioners were treated not as guests, but prisoners. When they tried to run, Claire bound them to their assigned beds and sealed them in place with chains of ice.


    ¡°I must say, it is precisely at times like these that I have not the slightest clue as to whether I should be impressed or appalled.¡±


    ¡°Neither,¡± said Claire, as she lazily glanced across the room. ¡°You should be grateful that I dealt with these idiots before they could get themselves in trouble.¡±


    ¡°Wmmasdhf!¡± the son made a sound, but his voice was silent. None of them could speak, in fact. Claire had muzzled the whole family when she got sick of all their yapping.


    ¡°Perhaps, you may have saved them from the queen¡¯s clutches, but I suspect they are hardly any happier to be in ours with matters as they stand.¡±


    ¡°Not my fault.¡±


    The vampire looked up at the lyrkress¡¯ usual partner in crime, only to receive a shake of the head. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me! It¡¯s not my fault either!¡±


    ¡°And whose is it then?¡±


    ¡°Theirs?¡± said Claire, as she looked at the dogs.


    ¡°Not in the slightest,¡± said Arciel, with another sigh. She turned towards the group soon after and greeted it with a smile. ¡°I am Arciel Vel¡¯khan, imperial blood kraken, and the rightful ruler of this country. I apologize on my friend¡¯s behalf. Her intentions are well placed, but she is hard headed when it comes to having her way.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not stubborn.¡±


    ¡°Obstinate or not, I believe that acting on your own in this case may cost an opportunity. We have heard that they planned for a larger expedition to be sent to their shop.¡± The squid produced a scroll from within her sleeve and handed it to the half-qilin. ¡°The Doyles¡¯ will coincides with our plan. If they are not present at their abode, I suspect that the enemy¡¯s attack will fall through.¡±


    Much to the squid¡¯s chagrin, a faint, devilish smile immediately crossed the lyrkress¡¯ face. ¡°It¡¯s ok. I have a plan.¡±


    ___


    Claire fought back the urge to yawn as she looked over her status for the hundred and seventeenth time. It had been half a day since she had returned to the confectionery shop, and a full day since she had met the Doyles. Despite her efforts, the restaurant remained open. They had temporarily shut down the service that allowed customers to sit down and order whatever they pleased, but they still had prebaked goods up on display for any interested parties to buy. And oh so many of those parties there were. Claire had assumed that they had brought too much; the obstinate boy that appeared to be the family¡¯s heir had handed her a full ten sacks of baked goods, measuring in at roughly five hundred pounds in all. But by the looks of things, they were sure to run out by evening. Hordes of customers were pouring in and out, with bags of silver in one direction, and delicious confectioneries in the other. The only difference was that they were being served not by the usual dogs, but the soldiers in Arciel¡¯s employ.


    That was not to say that there were no dogs present on the premises. The man after which the store was named had volunteered himself after hearing that they would need one of his family members to lure the enemy in. In the meantime, Claire and Natalya shared a seat atop the roof, both bored out of their minds, with only half an attention span between them.


    They were not alone in their endeavour. The other soldiers assigned to the job were just as starved for entertainment. Unlike the lyrkress, they were more accustomed to the task, but that was not to say that they were keeping an eagle eye out.


    Few if any of the guards were actively processing their surroundings. Most were just standing around, chatting about one random thing or other. Some of the bolder troops had even taken the opportunity to nap while the commander was out for lunch. They were clearly experts at their craft; they didn¡¯t snore or make a noise, and would even awaken immediately if anyone drew too close. Claire could only tell that they were slacking off from the way their heartbeats and breathing patterns slowed when they lowered their helmets.


    Her knowledge, however, resulted in little but silence. She was not their commanding officer, nor a part of the chain at all for that matter. Matthias was the only party member stuck obeying orders. Still, Claire had decided to play nice for as long as they respected her autonomy. She was half the reason they were short a platoon¡¯s worth of men, and while waiting around seemed like a waste of time, hunting bosses was just as inefficient given how long it took for them to spawn. There was also her deal with Arciel, which more or less drove her to play along for as long as it took to instate the squid as queen.


    Lia was much easier to convince. She had been reluctant at first, but changed her tune as soon as she was slapped with a bag of gold. Her eyes had lit up like a lake beneath the stars when she saw the amount inside, and she had remained quiet and obedient ever since. The funds had come largely as a loan from the Penhorn pirates. The twin captains were among the wealthiest individuals in the land. They had dozens of noble families on their payroll, and owned nearly a quarter of the capital¡¯s land. One was likely to assume, given their profession, that it was through plunder that they achieved their wealth, but such an egregious amount could not have simply been stolen. Both twins were high priestesses to the god of commerce, with some even claiming that they were born of his seed. Whatever the case, the cat¡¯s price had been paid.


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    ¡°We should probably let him down. He¡¯s been up there for hours.¡± The feline in question smiled awkwardly as she focused her eyes on the dog in the sky. He was not free-floating, but rather suspended from the fishing rod hanging off the building¡¯s roof.


    ¡°P-please do!¡± stuttered the signpost. ¡°I¡¯ve been needing to use the restroom, and my pants are digging far too deep into my sides!¡± The line¡¯s hook ran right through his waistline. Certainly not the most convenient ordeal for someone that had eaten a hearty breakfast.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine,¡± said the lyrkress. She was under the impression that he said something or other about an upcoming, preventable accident, but she dismissed it as a figment of her imagination. There was no such thing as talking bait, after all.


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Lia flashed the man an apologetic smile before leaning on the other girl¡¯s shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ hard to enjoy the scenery while he¡¯s there, you know?¡±


    ¡°Then stop trying.¡± Much to the cat¡¯s displeasure, Claire grabbed her by the face and unceremoniously peeled her right off.


    The bait took the ensuing silence as an opportunity to say something or other, but Claire silenced him with a look before returning her eyes to her status screen for the nth time.


    It was with her own sheet fresh in her mind that she thought back to her father¡¯s scuffle with Allegra. She had always known that the Grand Magus was a force to be reckoned with, when unleashed upon the battlefield, but the cottontail had exceeded her expectations by far.


    The lyrkress¡¯ memory of it wasn¡¯t perfect; the fake¡¯s eyes weren¡¯t as sharp as hers, and they hadn¡¯t been close enough for her to see all the details she would have liked, but she inserted herself into her tutor¡¯s position nonetheless and considered the possibilities.


    His greatest weakness was akin to that of any other centaurian offshoot. His underside was chock full of mission-critical components, and he was sure to suffer a fatal wound so long as his opponent proved themselves capable of obliterating his guts. Allegra had proven that getting under him was a viable strategy. It was the sort of approach that only a smaller creature could take, and it just so happened that Claire had all the right forms to pull it off.


    She played the scenario out in her head, imitating Allegra¡¯s attacks and movements with her vectors and lizard considered. She put together a rough plan and considered a number of contingencies, but she was unable to visualise their outcomes. A pair of obnoxious sounds pulled her from her simulation each time. One was akin to a faint, hollow scratching, while the other somehow resembled a patissier¡¯s voice. Whatever the case, she tried plugging her ears with ice, but the situation hardly improved. Some sounds were muted as expected, but others, the deeper ones in particular, she suddenly heard in more vivid detail. The waves almost seemed to enter through her lower body and echo straight into the back of her head.


    The discovery was one that came with a twitch. She jumped out of her seat, silencing most of the noises until she made contact with the ground again. Natalya looked at her curiously, but she ignored the cat and closed her eyes to better focus on the sounds. The beating hearts of those around her were clearer than usual, and so too was everything coming from beneath her feet. It was like she could feel the raccoons scavenging in the dumpster behind the restaurant, the people walking beneath her feet.


    It was strange. The scales that covered her skin were twitching, shaking. She couldn¡¯t tell if she was feeling the sound or hearing it, but whatever the case, the scratching was clearer. It was coming from somewhere nearby, barely a hair¡¯s breadth away. Her eyes snapped open when her bones caught wind of a distorted voice coming from deep underground.


    It was akin to the scraping of metal on stone, something clawing away at something else, digging through the dirt. It was accompanied by both men and women, speaking something or other of freedom. None of her business, no doubt. It was up to the jail warden to fix his own walls.


    She began humming a tune as she opened her eyes again, just in time to see a trio of dumb animals delivering themselves through the air. In their paws, jaws, and flippers, the buckets upon buckets of fish that they had caught for lunch.


    ___


    The weather that night was nice and clear. The clouds were present but sparse, and there was not a single flake of snow anywhere in sight. Claire was still up on the roof; her body held a pious pose while her head was well above the clouds. It was in Griselda¡¯s realm to be exact, where it lingered alongside the giant floating rock bestowed upon her by the goddess.


    What had once been an ordinary, grey moonstone had transformed into a mess of magic and divinity. There were blues, golds, reds, and blacks running through it, streaks of energy burned straight into its core. It had largely retained its wedge-like shape, but its dimples had been replaced by thick, knife-like spikes so hostile to the touch that they even lashed out against their owner. There were cracks running along its surface, especially the blackened parts, revealing the complicated magical circuits that lived beneath its shell.


    While she didn¡¯t visit the rock every night, it had more or less become a routine of hers to toy with it whenever she had extra resources to throw around. And though she was on duty, the lyrkress saw no reason to keep everything topped up.


    The rock¡¯s appearance was not a sign of progress; it was not success that drove Claire to seek the stone each night, but rather the lack thereof. In a way, the moonstone was like a stubborn child. It refused to bend to her will, even after she had invested something in the vein of three million points of mana into its manipulation. The divinity she added to the mixture only made things worse. It was precisely the godly energy that drove the celestial body to reject her.


    Something about the yellow-hued substance changed when she filled the vessel. It was still hers; she could feel it even after its absorption, but it refused to do anything but run wild. She could force it to fuse with her magic if she focused, but without interference on her part, it would eventually degrade, become chaotic, and separate of its own accord. Claire didn¡¯t quite understand why; the energy defaulted to its orderly variant whenever she accessed it, but its behaviour appeared to suggest that order was by no means its natural state.


    Whatever the case, the lyrkress cared little. What she did was the same; she would pump it full of divinity and move it around, with the alignment varying with her mood. At most, she could force it to cycle. The rock was more efficient than her body, and it could circulate the mana and divinity without loss even with the ice and chaos-aligned energies in active conflict. Seizing full control, however, was impossible. She couldn¡¯t use it as a catalyst in the casting of spells, nor did it serve as a battery that allowed free extraction of the magic invested. It was more of a septic tank, a place of disposal where its contents would be left to fester.


    Despite her reputation for offering guidance, the moon gave no advice, nor did Claire ask. Her refusal was a matter of pride. She wanted to grasp it by herself, just as she had learned to manipulate her mana without any input from her tutor. And while she had not quite made any real progress, neither had she been at a complete standstill. Through her continued experimentation, she had determined that it was easier to control when she focused on the shard in her chest. The bone that erupted from her breast was an effective wand, but with her body left behind, she was unable to use it.


    Regardless of the tooling available, the most effective method she had found so far was akin to a child flailing around her limbs; her divinity could be imbued into her attacks. Weaving it into her breath made it more effective. But few of her other spells experienced any of the same. True ice could tolerate it, but the standard variants would explode if infused with too much.


    Her spirit animals, on the other hand, took to the energy with little issue. Shoulderhorse and Shouldersnake used it more naturally than she did, and even Headhydra had developed a penchant for its manipulation. It made no sense for their caster to be left behind, but she suspected it had something to do with her mage class¡¯ Llystletein origin. The shoulder-idiots had always existed in the past, but it wasn¡¯t until they were corrupted by Alfred¡¯s influence that they had materialised themselves outside of her mind.


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    She breathed a sigh, shook her head, and returned to her body. She had already poured all her divinity into the rock. Any further practice would have to wait until her stores returned.

 Chapter 247 - Scorching Embers V

    Chapter 247 - Scorching Embers V


    It was on the fourth evening that the enemy finally made their move. They began with an obvious march, a procession in which a number of troops were led down the street, dressed in full ceremonial garb. There were hundreds of men, each walking in line with the next, regardless of the load they bore. The average soldier only carried his armaments, but there was a group at the front that led with instruments, a collection of bards that marked their presence with a bright, wartime song. The city¡¯s residents were caught off guard by the unannounced event, but they stepped aside regardless and allowed the army to proceed, all while debating the sudden parade and its meaning.


    ¡°A bard unit? That¡¯s unusual,¡± muttered Claire.


    It was not a lack of efficacy that rendered the element unlikely. Bards were incredibly useful in group combat, courtesy of their ability to bolster their allies and weaken their enemies. And unlike other similar classes, like curse mages, they incurred no penalty to perform on a larger scale. They were in high demand across all such situations, and that was precisely why so few found themselves flying the military¡¯s banner. The army lacked the prestige and freedom that many of their other possibilities would have provided. One could not simply play a tune of self-expression, nor serenade whatever lovely dame or damsel whose path they happened to cross; the military¡¯s members were expected to play the tunes instructed to them with zero room for creativity or improvisation.


    The discipline required for such a unit to function was not the sort that the typical bard was willing to endure, for they were free spirits that roamed the land and focused their eyes on little but the things they wished to see. To wander for inspiration was the way of their forefathers, the way that the divine collective came to be¡ªthe holy blob was but an amalgamation of the countless spirits of all the best artists, dancers, and songwriters. And it was not by fame that the collective judged. Anyone that had produced a true masterpiece in their lifetime was taken into it post mortem. And it was precisely to craft such beauty and seek the subsequent eternity that bards often took upon themselves the traveler¡¯s mantle. That was not to say that most wanderers were minstrels. To sing was but one way to fight, and a choir alone did not a functional party make.


    Most singers and writers, especially those realistic enough to acknowledge their lack of talent, would eventually settle down in some town or other, but even then, the government remained an unlikely employer. They went to taverns, opera houses, and noble manors instead, composing commissions for the individuals that took to their particular brands and genres. And yet, the Vel¡¯khanese had somehow put together a unit.


    They numbered forty in all, drummers, trumpeters, and lutanists making up the main body. The commander, an important-looking, uniformed lady with a golden harp was sitting atop one of the carriages, lightly strumming it as she sang an ode of promised victory. No magic was laced into her song just yet, but it came attached with a fiery fervor regardless, a shroud of confidence backed by the band¡¯s very presence. One did not simply send such valuable soldiers to a losing battle.


    Claire¡¯s half drowsy mind snapped awake as she looked towards the warriors marching behind the band. They were split into two clear divisions, one with five full platoons, and the other with exactly one soldier to its name. From an aesthetic perspective, it was absurd, comical even, but she was no stranger to the unspoken declaration. The lone man, the erdbrecher covered from head to toe in glimmering golden trinkets, was worth as much as the hundreds that marched by his side. Or perhaps even more.


    Though it was difficult to tell with all the jewelry plastered over his frame, the elephant-nosed warrior was practically naked. He had a cloth to cover his loins, but his chest was bare. No weapons hung off his hips, nor were any holstered to his back. The skin that adorned his weathered humanoid parts was just as wrinkled as that of his elephantine face, and though not quite the same colour, it was also ashy and grey. The faded hair all over his arms suggested that he was nearing the end of his prime, but his musculature showed no signs of degradation. His stomach was marked with undeniable muscle, and his legs were as thick and sturdy as the trunk of a tree. His veins were clearly visible throughout his frame, bulging with vigour. Most impressive of all, however, were his eyes. Within them raged the continence of a triumphant ruler, of a man whose confidence was backed by all of Xekkur¡¯s vices.


    When paired against him, the well-decorated soldier that led the rest of the other unit may as well have never existed. He was nothing. Just an easily overlooked, bipedal crab whose hat spoke louder than his person. His claws were thinner than the other man¡¯s mountainous arms, and his expression revealed the knowledge that he was far out of his depth. Still, the shellfish was the one to ride forward when the army stopped outside the restaurant. His mount was a female of his species, a more standard-looking crab measuring in at roughly five meters across.


    ¡°We bid you surrender.¡± His voice was eerie. It was not quite high pitched, but it lacked the bass that one would associate with a creature three meters in height. The effect was amplified by the strange, phantom chittering. Every time he spoke a word, there would be another sound as well, a mix between a hiss, a snarl, and a croak. ¡°Anyone that drops their weapons and submits within the next five minutes will be given a fair trial. Do not worry. If you have no part in the crimes committed at this location, you are likely to have all charges dismissed.¡± The shop¡¯s clients began murmuring to one another, confused by the sudden declaration. ¡°Those that remain on the premises after the appointed time, however, will be considered a threat to the crown and subsequently eliminated. The timer has already begun. Make haste with your decision.¡±


    The warning was followed immediately by a clamour of voices and feet. Some customers were confused, others terrified, but whatever the case, the guests abandoned their places in line and scrambled for the door. It was just a few people at first, but the stream blossomed into an ocean when the message sank in and turned their composure to panic. Their confusion was a given; the customers were ordinary people without the slightest clue as to everything going on. Arciel¡¯s associates had long been warned against visiting; the attack was too likely for them to run the risk.


    ¡°Holy crap, finally! It feels like we¡¯ve been waiting for weeks!¡± The crowd¡¯s trepidation, however, extended not to the resident fox. Sylvia had been bored out of her mind. They had run out of things to talk about by the second day, and she was more a fan of fish than she was the sugar that filled the store¡¯s treats.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Claire stood up and held a hand out to the cat sitting beside her.


    ¡°Go?¡± Lia blinked. ¡°Go where.¡±


    ¡°Where else?¡± The lyrkress¡¯ eyes were on the prison wagon at the back of the procession. The captives were lined up outside, where a grunt recorded their names and tied their hands before ushering them up the plank, while an officer standing inside the vehicle assured the crowd that its members would see no harm. It was difficult to tell with the man¡¯s fancy armoured helmet on, but Claire was fairly certain that he was bald beneath it.


    ¡°Huh? Why would we go there? I know they look intimidating, but it¡¯s far too early to surrender.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°So we can flank them. Idiot.¡±


    ¡°O-oh, right.¡± Natalya began pushing herself off the ground, but stopped in the middle of checking her equipment. ¡°Wait, isn¡¯t that a bad idea? Won¡¯t they start attacking the civilians as soon as we reveal ourselves?¡±


    ¡°Can you think of a better way to access the choir?¡±


    ¡°Oh, oh! I know!¡± Sylvia raised a paw. ¡°We can sneak in with a bubble and be all invisible and stuff.¡±


    ¡°Rejected.¡± Claire pinched the fox¡¯s cheeks. ¡°That involves you helping. Not allowed.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m really bored, so I wanna do something,¡± pouted the vixen.


    ¡°Not my problem.¡±


    ¡°Ughhhh! You¡¯re so mean, Claire! I¡¯m sick of sitting around and sleeping! I wanna have fun too!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea,¡± said Natalya. ¡°How about you tag along and help out the prisoners? I¡¯m sure they¡¯re not very happy about being kidnapped, and you could probably throw our enemies for a loop if you made the carriage vanish. That way, Claire can pull off her sneak attack without getting any civilians killed.¡±


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    Sylvia¡¯s tail shot up like an exclamation mark. ¡°Oh! Good idea! That sounds super fun.¡± She looked over at Claire, who paused briefly before affirming with a nod.


    ¡°Okay! One missing carriage thingy, coming right up!¡± The fox clapped her paws twice and hummed a quick tune.


    ¡°Hold on!¡± said the cat. ¡°You have to wait until we¡¯ve snuck onboard.¡±


    ¡°Oh umm¡­ Too late.¡± She stuck out her tongue and scratched the back of her head as her spell took effect. The whole prison wagon floated up into the air and disappeared without a trace, captives, guards, and all. The footsoldiers immediately descended into panic, but a few shouts from their supervisors had them back in line.


    ¡°Stupid, stupid fox.¡± Claire tugged the pet¡¯s cheeks even harder, stretching them nearly as wide as her shoulders.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry! I didn¡¯t mean it, I just got a little too excited!¡±


    ¡°And now you see why you¡¯re not supposed to help.¡± A sigh on her lips, Claire handed the fox to her companion and spread her wings. She rose into the sky, attracting a number of gazes, before raising her hands and pointing them at the enemy lines.


    ¡°Wait, Claire? What are you doing!?¡± shouted the cat.


    ¡°Killing the bards.¡±


    She led with a recent acquisition, a spell that started with a tiny swirling snowball. It grew as it closed on its destination, picking up more mass and volume as it spiraled through the air. A musical note moved to intercept it, but it was swallowed by the orb and easily erased. Had a barrier not suddenly appeared around the bards, they surely would have been consumed by the ensuing blast, for the icy ball unravelled on impact, enveloping everything in its vicinity in a burst of magic. The street was decimated by the attack; the nearby buildings were torn asunder, blasted with a coat of winter that dropped their surface temperatures nearly two hundred degrees.


    Claire retreated after the initial attack. She flew behind the building, moving at a pace no faster than that of the average seabird. Her enemies recognised this as a sign of weakness, and the commander ordered a squad of flying fish to give chase. They followed her behind the restaurant. And fell right into her trap. She engaged as soon as they were out of their commander¡¯s sight and swept Boris from left to right. He grew to five times his usual length midswing and snapped like a whip, gouging the soldiers¡¯ flesh and bone alike.


    Only one of them was fatally wounded. He was unlucky enough to be at just the right elevation for the lizard to split his skull in two. The other three immediately raised their guard, but Claire disposed of them in no more than half a breath. She kicked one with such force that her foot erupted from the other side of his body, cleaved the second in two with a lizard-halberd, and broke the third¡¯s neck with a particularly powerful pair of vectors.


    In the meantime, Arciel¡¯s troops took the opportunity to group up in front of the restaurant, shields and spears at the ready. They were in the phalanx formation; their defensive towers were sturdy enough to repel spells and arrows alike and their gigantic weapons deterred any melee attackers from getting up close. The flanks were meant to be their greatest weaknesses, but they were covered by the barriers they had previously installed.


    The choir could easily get around their defenses, but the commander¡¯s confidence led Claire to suspect that they had some measure or other in place. But she didn¡¯t care. Whatever the case, she decided to tackle the problem with a scheme of her own.


    She reverted to her true form and snaked back around the building as she unleashed a lungful of air. The troops reacted to her massive frame in a heartbeat, calling out her location and alerting their allies. But while they had easily tracked the qiligon, they had outright failed to recognize her attack. The breath was unassuming, invisible even, but her acting played a part as well. She didn¡¯t forcibly eject it like usual, but puckered her lips and blew like she was trying to whistle instead.


    The men on the front line froze before they so much as realised she had already engaged. Their instruments and bodies were turned to blocks of ice in tandem. They shattered soon after, vanishing to dust as the breath attack¡¯s destructive, draconic properties were applied to whole persons at a time. It was not a painful demise, nor even one that their minds were able to process. They simply disintegrated as the breath reduced them into their most basic components and scattered them to the wind.


    The survivors were not as lucky. Shrieks rang through the choir as skin and flesh were removed in tandem, leaving organs and layers of muscle exposed to the cold. Their nerves were aflame, plagued with the phantom pains that accompanied their broken bodies. But even they were fortunate, compared to those that had taken her spell into their lungs. Those that had inhaled were eaten alive from the inside out, turned to hollowed shells filled with nothing but shattered ice.


    Thirty-seven of the band¡¯s forty members were put out of commission, slain or thoroughly disabled.


    Claire pounded her wings and propelled her massive body towards the three musicians still standing. Her claws were primed to deliver them to their makers, but she had to swerve out of the way when a wave of arrows arced through the air. The few that found their marks bounced off her scales, leaving only a few faint scratches across their outermost layers. The second volley was more powerful. The archers¡¯ spotters cast spells on their partners and enchanted their tiny spears with additional properties. She dodged most of them again, but a bolt of thunder struck her for each that landed on target. Powerful, paralyzing shocks were etched straight to her nerves. They surely would have been effective, had she not an inbuilt resistance to the thunder god¡¯s element.


    She prepared for a third wave, but it never came. The troops shifted their focus to Natalya, who had started charging down the street with the rangers in her sights. Claire found herself mildly annoyed by the development; the archers had aided her greatly in stacking her death¡¯s dance, but she was still a ways off from completion.


    The cat was faced with a veritable wall of projectiles, but she nimbly avoided its blades with a series of four-legged pounces. Everything that she couldn¡¯t dodge, she would swat away, sometimes with her claws and others the two-handed horse-killer held in her mouth. Before long, she was in the midst of the fray, swinging with reckless abandon. Person or projectile, it was all the same. Fallen to a whirlpool of death.


    Blood sprayed through the air, polluting it with the distinct scent of iron as she destroyed her foes. There was no stopping her, at least not until the mounted commander introduced himself to the melee.


    Suddenly recalling the other key figure, Claire looked around to check for his movements, only to find him standing exactly where he had been before with an aloof smile plastered across his face. His wrinkled eyes flitted around the battlefield, examining each place of conflict in detail, but for the most part, his focus remained on her. He grinned when she met his gaze and pointed to the spot beside him. It wasn¡¯t a challenge. He hadn¡¯t drawn his weapons or otherwise launched any attacks. And despite his aura of supremacy, he even somehow managed to look somewhat friendly.


    Claire was suspicious, and awfully so, but she eventually chose to comply. Dealing with his scheme was better than allowing him to run wild.


    She tucked her limbs in, dropped out of the sky, and slithered towards him. She didn¡¯t stop or slow until the moment before they made contact, but he watched on with confidence, not bothering to raise his guard even at the end of her false charge.


    A number of spells chased after her, but she shook them by looping behind him, turning humanoid, and obscuring herself behind his massive frame. She kept her guard up, of course. Her stance was low and her hand was on her lizard, just in case he suddenly decided to strike.


    ¡°Relax. I just want to talk.¡± From up close, his grin revealed a row of jagged teeth. He looked closer to the part of a carnivore than he did any sort of another member of his race.


    ¡°Well I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say that, it¡¯ll be quick,¡± he said, with another grin. ¡°I¡¯ve heard about you from some of the boys, and they were right. You¡¯re just the kind of violent war criminal we¡¯re short on these days. How about it? Want to join us? You aren¡¯t exactly an erdbrecher, but I¡¯m sure the boss would be happy to have you, so long as you don¡¯t dry up in the sand.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes, but said nothing.


    ¡°We¡¯re a pretty famous bunch, where we come from. I doubt you¡¯ll find a better group around here, at least. We pay well, with three quarters of each commission going to its participants. Vets and commanders get a higher cut, but not by much.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°We go all over the place too. You¡¯ll hardly spend any more than a few seasons in a given place, and sure, it¡¯s bloody, but it¡¯s like going on a vacation every time you head out to work.¡± What irked her most was the genuine enthusiasm in his voice. He was like a pushy salesman, namely one that was well aware of just how annoying he was.


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    The command was followed by an immediate attack. Claire dashed up to him and swung Boris at his neck. The four-legged snake turned into a heavy axe, brutal enough to cleave even the thickest of spines. But he didn¡¯t even touch the man¡¯s skin. One of the many golden pieces strung around his neck had intercepted the attack and held strong beneath the full extent of its force.


    His eyes began to glow, but she didn¡¯t give him the opportunity to demonstrate his abilities. While her forces didn¡¯t work on him directly, she was able to pull one of his allies into his back and knock him off balance. He regained his footing immediately, but by then, she had already retreated back to the building¡¯s roof. She channeled her mana, concentrating a large chunk into her vectors as she prepared to lift the building into the sky, with the dog still attached to its roof.


    She was on the verge of unleashing the spell when she cut herself short and drew her lizard instead. Her gut was telling her that he wasn¡¯t to be trifled with, that she was better off running away as quickly as she could. It was the same feeling she had when she first spotted him, but Claire clenched her tail and stood her ground. Fleeing was a coward¡¯s game. And she was not a coward.

 Chapter 248 - Scorching Embers VI

    Chapter 248 - Scorching Embers VI


    Claire swung her weapon three times after closing the distance. For her first attack, Boris was a spiked club. For the second, he transformed into an axe. And for the third, a battlehammer as wide as she was tall. But none of her attacks had any effect. Each subsequent strike was blocked by the chains hanging off the erdbrecher¡¯s body, repelled before they could rend his flesh. Even though they were accompanied by vectors and magical glares.


    Her fourth attack, still delivered with the hammer, was aimed straight at his exposed legs. The metal didn¡¯t extend that far down, but the results were unchanged. She bashed her lizard straight into his kneecap, only for him to shrug it off with a casual laugh. His body neither bent nor broke. The only wound was a light abrasion, a few shallow cuts on his ashy grey skin.


    It was an exchange that immediately revealed his approach to combat. He was a man of Pollux¡¯s make, a defensive juggernaut whose abilities focused first and foremost on the mitigation and absorption of damage. And as she had determined with her failed vector applications, his magical defenses were just as robust as his physical ones. She couldn¡¯t say for certain, but she had the sneaking suspicion that not even the realm would do him in. If his vitality was as high as she understood, she would run out of mana well before he fell short of health.


    She twisted her lips into a grimace as she leapt away from him. Her retreat was accompanied by an icy spell; she formed a pyramid around his frame and trapped him in an icy prison. It was cold enough within the trap for the very air to freeze, a powerful spell that had ended many a person and monster behind him. But the erdbrecher shrugged it off. He walked straight at one of the outer walls with his golden trinkets whirring to life. They moved with such speed that they sawed straight through the gaol, releasing both the elephant and the freezing cold in turn.


    Claire greeted him with a breath, but that too was repelled. The winds kicked up by his accessories dispersed it into his surroundings. There was chaos among the enemy lines, but the man in question was unharmed.


    Annoyed, she took the opportunity to scour him for vitals. The defensive trinkets that had blocked her attacks rested atop his upper body and covered everything from his chest to his face. His groin seemed like the best bet, but she was suspicious. It was too exposed, too obvious for it to be a sore spot.


    He attacked before she could finish her analysis, lunging forward with his nose raised like a spear. The pointed javelin was accompanied by a pair of ivory tusks, thick, bony protrusions sharp enough to give her shard a run for its money. He moved slowly for a man clearly thrice ascended; it took him almost a full second to cross the twenty-meter gap, a distance that a child could have closed in the same time. But what he lacked in speed, he made up with destructive force. He continued until he hit the restaurant, the walls of which crumbled before his headlong charge.


    Claire gave chase whilst transforming Boris into a pick. She jabbed the lizard straight into his shoulder and wedged it towards the joint. The sharpened nail struck shallow, but she continued pushing it deeper, thanks to the vectors that had accompanied the blow. She watched his hands and feet as she pressed the attack, pouring her mana through her blade and into his blood in an attempt to freeze it, but she suddenly found herself in midair regardless, blown away by a heavy blow.


    Pain spread throughout her chest as her ribs dug into her lungs. When she finally managed to grit her teeth and raise her head, she found his trunk extended behind him. She had no idea when he had launched the attack. It had come from right in front of her. But it was so quick that it had caught her completely off guard.


    She landed a few feet away, an arm around her midsection, and called Boris into her free hand. She kept her eyes peeled for a supersonic follow up, but he pulled no such stunt. When he charged, he did so with all the speed of an inebriated snail. The confused moose summoned her imaginary snake and threw it into his face. But the divinity-charged bomb was subjected to the same punishment as her ribcage. It was swatted away, taken out of the air before she had the chance to pull the trigger.


    Boris transformed into a wand, and on his mistress¡¯ command, released a series of projectiles from his gaping maw, icy weapons modeled after their genuine counterparts, each with a different weight, shape, and speed. But regardless of how quick or heavy, they were all summarily rejected; every glacial missile was smashed to bits by the elephant¡¯s elongated nose.


    It was clear from his continued approach that he had no long ranged weapons. Despite the lack of success, all he did was march single-mindedly, advancing at her in a straight line no matter how or where she turned. The strategy was so simple that she felt the urge to break into laughter. But with his defenses as thick as they were, she found herself unable.


    The erdbrecher¡¯s approach was custom built for the frenzy of war. So long as the battlefield was set on the ground, he could easily mow straight through the common rabble and force a confrontation with whatever important figure with whose murder he was tasked. And if anyone more fragile than the lyrkress were to fall into his trap, they would surely find themselves ensnared and killed. It was a build crafted with a specific purpose in mind. Completely unlike her own.


    Claire glanced across the decorative garden as she contemplated her lack of success. Lia would have a better time against the elephant man¡ªshe was capable of dishing out more powerful attacks, and she would likely fare better in close combat. Alas, Claire refused to sub out. She eyed the elephant¡¯s trunk as she toyed with the lizard. Removing it would have been the easiest option, but she was unable to follow it in all its lightning fast speed.


    Still, she charged. She dashed straight into his nose¡¯s range and immediately dropped to the floor. Before even waiting for confirmation, she dodged to the right, whipped her imaginary snake at a spot beside her, and backed off whilst flicking a tiny, knife-sized Boris through the air. All of them were movements driven by vectors, twists and turns impossible with momentum at play.


    Each spell was lined up perfectly to counteract one of his attacks. They were not reactions, but predictions made by watching his eyes. And they were correct. She perfectly parried and evaded his nose-weapon¡¯s strikes, bolstering her confidence as she dove back in again.


    She slipped past his trunk when it lashed out and delivered a stab to the back of his arm. The tiny gash was just as shallow and harmless as all her other attacks, but it was enough to light the fire in her chest. It had claimed otherwise, but she could kill him. All she needed was to find his weakness.


    It was at that moment, right as she entertained the thought of victory, that she was struck again. His trunk moved like a whip and caught her in the gut. Even though his eyes had telegraphed no such strike. She raised an arm in an attempt to block the next few attacks to follow, just to find the limb pulverised in an instant, transformed into an unrecognizable mess with only a bone remaining. Waves of pain fired through the back of her mind. Her flesh was scattered all over. Some bits adorned the ground, while others were plastered to the building¡¯s wall. Still, she had accomplished her goal.


    The golden plate that covered the man¡¯s nose was in her remaining hand. And in its place, was a muzzle made of ice. It certainly begged to question why the Freeze Toilet spell had worked so well on his trunk, but whatever the case, the prehensile appendage¡¯s tip was perfectly covered in a thick layer of ice. He tried squeezing it, smashing it as she watched triumphantly, but it refused to be broken or dislodged. It only spread, gaining one millimeter at a time as it slowly worked its way down its trunk.


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    She flapped her wings and took off while the spell did its work. Her destination was on the other side of the battlefield, where the crab-mounted crustacean was riding circles around the feline, poking her with his lance while his so-called horse moved in ways impossible for a creature with fewer legs. At first glance, it looked as if the shelled pair had the advantage, but every exchange swayed the tide in Natalya¡¯s favour. The weapon between her lips was a horse killer, a blade specialised in the dismantling of mounted calvary. The perfectly trained crab sidestepped the slashes and on occasion even stepped forward, entering a range that made it impossible for the catgirl to swing the weapon with any notable force.


    That was where the rest of her arsenal came in. She had a rapier for mid-ranged combat, and her claws if they got too close for even that. The only way to escape her domain was to retreat outside of it, but the crab saw little benefit in that; he too was a melee fighter and he had the pride to match.


    Thoroughly annoyed by his mount¡¯s bid for self-preservation, he jumped off his companion and prepared to use his own two feet. But they never touched the ground. A half-humanoid snake-moose swooped in from above and grabbed him while he was in midair. He tried slashing at her talons, but she dropped him before he could do any damage and delivered him straight into the cat¡¯s clutches. He waved his spear like a madman, throwing wild thrusts with reckless abandon, but he couldn¡¯t leverage the strength in his waist, nor could he put his back into his swings. His desperate, frenzied attacks were easily repelled by the whirling dervish of a feline. She knocked the weapon out of his hands after one particularly weak stab and shredded through his shell in a dozen different places. He was reduced to a memory by the time he hit the ground, his body torn to bits.


    Claire dropped out of the sky again after confirming the commander¡¯s death, but only for long enough to grab her companion and throw her onto her back.


    Lia immediately moved to secure herself by wrapping her arms around the other girl¡¯s waist, but the lyrkress grabbed her by the wrists before she could.


    ¡°Hands off.¡±


    That was when Lia took a second look and realised the state of the flying mount¡¯s body. There was a trunk-shaped dent in her stomach, one of her arms had been replaced by an icy prosthetic, and her lower half was bruised from litres of internal bleeding.


    ¡°Ar¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. Stop fussing and look down.¡±


    Claire directed her gaze at the erdbrecher, who was standing relatively still with his arms crossed and his nose twisted into a knot. He tried and failed to trumpet when their eyes met, to which she responded with a barrage of icy knives. Valuable bits of mana readily swatted away.


    ¡°Can you deal with him? Or is he too fast?¡±


    ¡°I should be fine,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°Okay.¡± Claire descended and plopped her passenger down before returning to her humanoid form. ¡°I¡¯m going to help the others.¡±


    She took off again right after, her teeth gritted and her ears folded in. The cat advanced in her place, the confidence on her face no less than that of her foe¡¯s. Their first clash, on its own, determined the battle¡¯s course. Lia didn¡¯t even enrage, but she parried his trunk without issue. She wasn¡¯t reading its path from his body language, but rather combating it with her reflexes and technique. The latter played the larger role; he was still faster than her, but she backed off whenever he engaged, staying just far enough out of his range to leave him frustrated and impotent. While she delivered slashes in turn.


    Her first attack was no better than Claire¡¯s. It practically glanced off his skin, leaving only the tiniest of skin-deep cuts. But her second blow, which came after she evaded another flurry, cleaved through his flesh and exposed his bone. It was an outcome that filled Claire with equal parts frustration and relief. The halfbreed knew that it was a difference in compatibility; Lia was simply better suited for taking down the enemy frontliner. Just as how she had been better suited to fighting the flaming bird. Still, she couldn¡¯t help but clench her fists and bite her lips.


    Recalling the overheated chicken led her to arrive at an answer. She had failed before, thanks to a certain shoulder animal¡¯s disappointing performance, but she just needed to use her divinity as Meltys used hers. For the fire had penetrated even Sylvia¡¯s barriers, and there was hardly a chance that the elephant was any tougher than the fox.


    She focused her mind on her fleshless hand and shifted her holy energy into its frame, albeit in its chaotic form. As she had learned from her experiments, orderly divinity boosted the ice¡¯s durability first and its power second. She had to exploit the opposite property for the exponential gain she required.


    It took the ice only a second to transform. It was tainted a faint purple as soon as the switch was flipped in her mind.


    Claire kicked off the ground with a wild charge, ploughing into the elephant man with all the force of a howling storm. She wasn¡¯t fast enough to dodge his trunk, but one of the cat¡¯s blades intercepted it before slugging him right in the face. It was a satisfying strike. His tusk was snapped clean off, and she could feel his jaw giving and freezing in tandem beneath the weight of her fist. But it wasn¡¯t without consequence. Her hand changed soon after contact. Purple spikes burst from all over, goring not just the elephant¡¯s flesh, but hers as well. Only Lia happened to get away quickly enough to avoid harm.


    She hated it. She hated how she had relied on the unreliable contingency, and how it had immediately turned around and bit her in the ass. Claire was able to turn her divinity orderly and seize control once again, but she was slow on the follow up. She surely would have taken another trunk to the gut had the cat not stepped in with a flurry of blows.


    Panting heavily, she stumbled half a step back before kicking off another lunge. On her second attempt, she transformed it into a set of talons. Her clawed hand tore into his flesh, digging deep into his ribs and puncturing his lungs. She twisted one of his bones out of shape while Lia removed one of his arms. Blood poured from his wounds when the two backed away in tandem. It couldn¡¯t have been anything but painful, but the erdbrecher looked at it with little more than a frown. He pressed his remaining hand against the missing bone and emitted a burst of magic. That was all it took. To fully restore both his rib and his arm.


    He flashed a cocky smile, but Claire didn¡¯t react. All he had done was highlight his own weakness. Cadrian warriors were able to do the same without the need for a priest class, such as the one whose function he had shown.


    She was about to initiate a third charge into the fray when Natalya grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s already over. We need to retreat.¡±


    She shook her head as she pointed to the restaurant. Where another erdbrecher had grabbed the fishing rod and stolen the dog. She had no idea where the fish-net-wearing female had come from, or that she had been on the battlefield at all. Kane had not been left completely unprotected. Lia had assigned a unit of guards to protect his person while they engaged, but all of the men in question lay strewn around the property, some unconscious, others dead, all defeated.


    The rest of their allies were not faring much better, as their enemies had used their superior numbers to surround them. They were cornered by archers, mages, warriors, and even the three bards she had failed to kill. Their chain of command had shattered with the crab¡¯s fall¡ªthere was no final decision maker¡ªbut the remaining officers had managed to keep the operation on track.


    Claire cared little for the common soldiers; she could plow straight through them if she wanted, but it would be a slog to kill the elephant with more help on his side; he had likely yet to show all the cards in his hand.


    ¡°Fine.¡± She magically moved the cat atop her back and immediately began speeding away.


    Some of the soldiers loosed their projectiles, but she outran their bolts, beams and arrows. The elephant didn¡¯t even bother aiding in the effort. He merely looked on, arms crossed, as they flew off in the direction of the sun.

 Chapter 249 - The Napping Hill and the Waxing Moon

    Chapter 249 - The Napping Hill and the Waxing Moon


    A small handful of key government figures sat in a dim, dreary room. The goddess of nudity and nuclear annihilation was still high up in the sky, but there was within the chamber not the slightest sliver of sunlight, for it was deep underground, cut off from any would-be eavesdroppers capable of guiding the voices carried by the wind. Their profiles were illuminated instead by the waxy, half-dead candles spread throughout the hall. The flickering flames reflected shadows upon their faces, obscuring their worried frowns. Of course, not all the meeting¡¯s participants wore solemn looks. It was not as if a stressed grimace was a part of the meeting¡¯s dress code, merely a result of how its participants tried and failed to cope with their troubles.


    ¡°Its trajectory has changed again.¡±


    Queen Priscilla was the first to speak, her eyes resting on the map spread across the table. She had given no other context, but the subject matter was clear, self-evident even. Center focus for all was the silver piece to the city¡¯s east, marked with a series of scribbled circles and stacked one on top of the other.


    ¡°How goes the progress, Lord Pollux?¡± She spoke to the winged horse seated just a few meters away, her tone harsh, and her eyes relaying nothing but incriminating hatred.


    ¡°I am terribly sorry, Your Majesty, but it appears that we have reached an impasse. Each time we venture upon the ninth floor, we find ourselves immediately transported back to our home base. I have gone personally to investigate the cause, but to little avail.¡±


    It was the exact same report that the local forces had provided. They had not the slightest clue as to the mechanism by which it worked, but the dungeon was actively rejecting them. It was like the god was filtering its candidates, denying them from clearing his trial.


    ¡°Are you fucking with me!?¡± One of the more frustrated ministers, an old, winged triton, banged a fist against the table as he glared daggers at the foreigner. ¡°You¡¯ve been working at it for months! Months! How the hell haven¡¯t you figured it out!?¡±


    ¡°With all due respect, Lord Cristletham,¡± the Cadrian returned the man¡¯s outburst with an infuriating sneer, ¡°the most difficult of dungeons are often never conquered at all. My men and I are trying our best, but there is only so much that we can do given the limited scope of our time. We bled much for this endeavour, and I must demand an apology for the wives who have lost their husbands who, out of nothing but goodwill, volunteered to aid in your plight.¡±


    ¡°I refuse,¡± spat Lord Cristletham. ¡°Take those accursed soldiers of yours and get the hell out of our country!¡±


    ¡°Why, what an awful demand.¡± Pollux pursed his lips into a frown, but his eyes betrayed his joy, his primeval, malicious joy. ¡°Unfortunately, it is not my place to rescind foreign aid once it has been offered, just as it is not yours to offend.¡± He raised both his hands in front of him, the white of his gloves like a beacon in the dark. Removing one mitt with the other, he lightly tossed it across the room, landing it squarely on the male siren¡¯s face. ¡°As much as it pains me to depose a close ally, I must request a duel. I care little for my own reputation, but I cannot allow anyone to slander the honour of my men.¡± He breathed an exaggerated sigh and slowly shook his head. ¡°The time and place are yours to decide. I shall visit your manor at a later date if I hear nothing.¡±


    It was a death sentence. Talented a commander though he may have been, Lord Cristletham had no hopes of matching the monstrous thunderhoof in combat.


    ¡°Now if you will excuse me, ladies, gentlemen, Your Majesty.¡± He didn¡¯t even hide his snicker. ¡°I must take my leave so that I may prepare.¡±


    He didn¡¯t even bother to bow as he stood up from the table and walked out the room. Following his departure, there was a moment of silence. No one said anything until his footsteps stopped ringing in the halls. Even after he left, the condemned lord was offered no words of comfort. It was he that had maneuvered himself into the death trap, even after having seen it happen three times before.


    ¡°We never should have trusted the Cadrians.¡± The prime minister eventually broke the silence by speaking from the lower of his two mouths. His body was somewhat humanoid; he had the arms, the legs, and the head, but everything in the middle was replaced by an entire miniaturised whale. ¡°Welcoming them with open arms was our first mistake.¡±


    ¡°Need I remind you that the alternative was to spend half the national budget on a handful of mercenaries?¡± The minister of finance, Lord Walker of house Gra¡¯ache, breathed a sigh that soon worked its way around the table.


    ¡°And oh how I wish I took it,¡± said the whaleman, with a self-depreciating chuckle. ¡°But now, we¡¯ve not only lost our funds, but also found ourselves wrapped up in their machinations. Worst of both worlds, all thanks to some pointless penny pinching.¡± His laughter grew louder, breaking only when he buried his faces in his flippers and hands. ¡°If I could go back in time, I would surely crucify myself for making the decision.¡±


    ¡°The fault is not yours alone, Heinrick.¡± The queen shook her head. ¡°I could have vetoed it, but allowed my curiosity to stay my fin.¡± She rolled her tail into a knot and squeezed it tight. ¡°And if we dare look even further in the past, then it echoes again as a mistake of mine. It all could have been prevented, had I not written Arciel off as dead.¡±


    ¡°That was not something any of us could have foreseen, Your Majesty,¡± said Lord Gra¡¯che. ¡°We still haven¡¯t the faintest clue where she was hidden.¡±


    He looked across the table, at Lord Ray¡¯esce, who only responded with a chortle of his own. ¡°I can hardly believe that there would be a man so foolish as to see her hidden in the first place,¡± he said. ¡°It is quite apparent that she will never seize the throne, at least not without a backer as influential as one of the men in this room.¡±


    It was such a shameless claim that the queen nearly spat out her drink. Everyone knew it was him. The man himself, however, was still playing dumb, despite knowing that the lie was long seen through. It was only because of the maid standing behind him that parliament did not immediately call for his arrest. Only Priscilla herself could best her, but her abilities caused too much widespread damage to be used in a room full of allies.


    To add insult to injury, the man even flashed a cheeky grin and leaned forward in his seat, his chin resting atop his hands. ¡°Perhaps we ought to look for traitors in our midst?¡±


    Priscilla managed to keep her frustration from showing, but the already death-sentenced minister of fine art once again bashed his hand into the table. ¡°You dare!¡±


    The seahorse-shaped count cackled as he leaned back into his seat. ¡°No, no, I jest. Calm down, Lord Cristletham. There could be no such thing as a traitor in parliament.¡±


    ¡°Ladies, I understand that we each have our own thoughts, but it¡¯s time we showed the queen some respect and discussed the matter at hand.¡± An old, hoarse voice interjected before Lord Cristleham could expel the venom gurgling in his throat. It was not one of the Vel¡¯khanese participants, but rather another foreign guest. She was an elephant-faced lady whose skin had just started to wrinkle. Despite the occasion, she was dressed in full plate, standing in the place of the queen¡¯s usual crocodilian protector.


    The locals did not look too favourably on the foreigner. Their experience with Pollux had burned them, and worse yet, she was just a mercenary without even the slightest hint of noble blood. Still, the point she made stood. The queen had gathered them for a purpose, and they had yet to fulfill it.


    ¡°Thank you, Emelia,¡± said the leech. She took a moment to twist her bloodsucking fangs into a smile before continuing in a low, solemn voice. ¡°The dungeon is on track to collide with the city in no more than a few weeks. We must find a way to clear it before it does, else we risk incurring countless casualties. It will not just be those that are resolved for death that are slain, but our families and friends as well.¡± She paused briefly to look around the room. ¡°Does anyone have any ideas?¡±


    ¡°I say we destroy it,¡± said the prime minister. ¡°Our best bet is to have you bombard it, Your Majesty, and perhaps eliminate it prior to its arrival. Naturally, if such a plan comes to pass, we will be assigning guards to ensure that you remain safe throughout.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve no way of safely escorting her past the storm,¡± said the minister of finance. ¡°And it¡¯s too risky. I¡¯d rather we avoid earning the ire of its creator.¡±


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    ¡°That is unlikely,¡± said the minister of religious affairs. ¡°Destroying a dungeon is an acceptable means of clearing its trial. It is certainly difficult and unlikely, given the nature of their construction, but there are many tales of mortals accomplishing the feat and earning the gods¡¯ affections.¡± He cast the monarch a meaningful gaze. ¡°Surely, divine favour would silence the concerns of those that still state their woes.¡±


    ¡°I will consider it as a last resort,¡± said the queen. ¡°Does anyone else have any ideas?¡±


    There was a moment of silence.


    ¡°In that case, let us move onto another problem for now and return to this one with our minds refreshed. The next issue to consider is our address to the populace. We will be needing to inform them of the situation and offer peace of mind. Surely, it is not only us that has recognised the dungeon¡¯s approach.¡±


    ___


    Claire didn¡¯t bother returning to base or reporting in. The first place she went, after totally flubbing her mission, was back home to the hotel where she dove straight into her bed. She winced when her body made contact. Her external wounds had closed, but everything was sore; her health was still in the process of ticking its way back up to full.


    Sylvia appeared on the nightstand when she raised her head, looking equal parts entertained and concerned. ¡°Uhmmm¡­ want some healing?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°You sure? ¡®Cause he totally kicked your butt. Err, actually I guess it¡¯s more like you kicked your own butt.¡± It was a grating insult that Claire couldn¡¯t deny. Almost three quarters of the damage she had incurred had come from her inability to handle her divinity.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± She flipped onto her back and took a deep breath. Her eyes closed, she silently basked in the sensation of the air filling her lungs, even in spite of the sharp, jabbing pain.


    ¡°Mmmk¡­¡± The fox¡¯s ears sat half drooped, but they perked up again as she suddenly leapt to her feet. ¡°Oh yeah! What do I do with this?¡±


    When the lyrkress lazily turned her eyes, she found a tiny bubble containing a tiny carriage and an even tinier set of soldiers and customers, all of whom appeared to have fallen unconscious. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Go ask the cat,¡± she groaned. ¡°It was her idea to begin with.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnn¡­ I¡¯ll ask her once you¡¯re all healed up.¡±


    The vixen jumped onto the bed and rubbed her face against the moose¡¯s.


    ¡°I told you. I¡¯m fine.¡± The other halfbreed leaned into the furball with a small smile. Her tail was used to scratch the spot behind the orange critter¡¯s ears. It was one of the few things that didn¡¯t hurt to move.


    ¡°Mhm, I know,¡± said the fox, with another snuggle. ¡°Anyway! Just remind me ¡®cause I¡¯ll probably forget if you don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Though her mood had certainly taken a turn, the scalewarden¡¯s thoughts remained anchored. Her eyes were seated on her status, cycling between the skills and stats that governed her offensive prowess. Or as the previous battle had clearly demonstrated, her complete and utter lack thereof. While the realm was certainly effective when it came to culling the weak, she had no single spell whose raw power stood head and shoulders above any of the others. Her vector-based abilities worked wonders against those with little magic resistance, but when applied on the durable, they fell only half an inch short of useless.


    Her physical attacks were just as problematic, for they too lacked the investment to topple those that specialised in the mitigation and absorption of damage. The ideal scenario was to imitate her father, who had chosen severance as one of his concepts. but she hadn¡¯t the means. Even if she was to put in the practice, none of her classes could arrive at such a logical extreme.


    Though she could seize the intangible, as a cloudburst sorceress, she found herself struggling to imagine the ability¡¯s final destination. She was almost tempted to think that it would allow her to pull souls apart, but that was unlikely. There was no such thing as an ars magna so absurd, nor an ultimate unaffiliated with one¡¯s racial features.


    Her rogue class was far more confusing. Its base functionality provided not even the slightest clue as to the concepts to be derived. In the first place, the class was something of an enigma. Its essence-stealing effect had activated only once in the months that she had it. Even with everything she had stabbed and slain. The whole thing was a mess not meant to be understood¡ªnot that understanding was ever a requirement. Her racial class was the perfect example. She only knew the realm¡¯s concept because it had been injected right into her mind. And even then, her knowledge was rudimentary at best. She was aware of what it could do, but not how or why it worked, nor even what she had done to deserve it.


    Ars magnae were meant to be tokens of recognition granted by the gods themselves. They could be applied to any class with a minimum level of 250 or higher, and served as undeniable proof that one had demonstrated mastery far beyond their class¡¯ supposed limits. But Claire had done no such thing. She had become proficient in none of the powers afforded to her by her race¡ªnor did there exist any established limits in the first place. She was the first of her kind.


    Of course, she wasn¡¯t complaining. The added power was welcome, even if she struggled to use it.


    ¡°I should fix my stats.¡±


    ¡°Hm?¡±


    The fox perked up, but Claire lightly pinched her nose and shook her head as she stared at the mountain of unallocated points at the top of her sheet. It eclipsed every one of her six stats; if she picked a single one, it could easily be doubled, or in some cases, quintupled.


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    She paused for a brief moment to consider the spread before locking her decisions in stone. First, she brought her agility to an even ten thousand, just enough to hit the next threshold. She doubted that the investment would allow her to keep up with the erdbrecher¡¯s trunk, but at the very least, it would better her ability to avoid it. The rest was split loosely between her strength and wisdom, with a slight skew towards the latter.


    It was hardly a choice without compromise. Her durability, which had just proven itself lackluster, was outright dismissed in favour of brute force. But while it may have seemed like an oversight, it was much closer in form to a calculated risk. Her defense had never been the point of her frustration. Unless she invested in it heavily, she was much better off making use of her agility.


    Bolstering her offenses would be the key to her success. There was no point in lasting longer if none of the attacks she landed were powerful enough to dig deeper than her enemies¡¯ skin.


    Opting for such a spread naturally meant leaving her dexterity behind, but that too, she wrote off. It wasn¡¯t her lack of finesse that had got her stuck, and she had never been a technical fighter in the first place. While Natalya had demonstrated in full the ability to take down a foe with higher stats with raw skill, Claire lacked the foundation and training required for such a performance.


    Her approach was something much more instinctual¡ªbestial even¡ªbut as far as she was concerned, that was all it needed to be. Her momentum could be thrown away at a moment¡¯s notice, and she could move in ways that were impossible for any with her shape and stature. The combination of her quirks and Boris¡¯ infinite forms even allowed her to occasionally best the enraged cat in a dance of blades. But just as how she lacked the weaknesses, so too had she been missing the strengths. With no raw speed or power, throwing herself at her enemies was pointless.


    Whatever the case, it was no longer a concern. She had no more points on hand. All twenty-some thousand had been spent to bolster her speed and power.


    Her agility was still a tad short of where she wanted it to be, and she would surely need to dump a few spare points into her other stats as she continued getting on in levels, but for the time being, everything was how she wanted it. A battlemage¡¯s strongest suit was her ability to poke holes in her enemies¡¯ defenses, and the change in her values had set her on track to do just that.


    Satisfied, she pulled the fox into her chest and pressed her chin into her fur.


    The shame of defeat still stung, but it faded with her consciousness, as she slowly sank into the warmth of her bed.


    ___


    Claire Augustus


    Health: 109437/123390


    Mana: 1130170/1130170


    Divinity: 637/637


    Health Regen: 28.0/second


    Mana Regen: 302.4/second


    Divinity Regen: 63.7/hour


    Ability Scores - 0 Points Available


    - Agility: 10000


    - Dexterity: 6329


    - Spirit: 5016


    - Strength: 18591


    - Vitality: 5205


    - Wisdom: 27272


    Racial Class: Frosty Longmoose - Level 430.11


    - Corpus Imperium - Level 91.64


    - Eyes of the Deep - Level 74.37


    - Realm of Eternal Frost


    - True Ice Manipulation - Level 92.96


    Primary Class: Llystletein Essencethief - Level 501.15


    - Catgirl Detector V. 1.00 - Level 25


    - Charm Catgirl - Level 25


    - Death¡¯s Dance - Level 53.84


    - Essencethief - level 61.27


    - Envenom - Level 74.80


    - Phantom Blade - Level 74.35


    Secondary Class: Cloudburst Sorceress - Level 498.98


    - Force Resistance - Level 11.14


    - Detect Force Magic - Level 27.61


    - Spirit Sorcery - Level 79.52


    - Vector Manipulation II - Level 64.06


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 15


    - Cadrian Court Etiquette - Level 25


    - Digging - Level 3.14


    - English - Level 25


    - Fishing- Level 7.06


    - Llystletein Authority++ - Level 27.31


    - Marish - Level 19.25


    - Napping - Level 3.59


    - Singing - Level 12.66


    - Sneaking - Level 15.72


    - Weapon Mastery - Level 94.01

 Chapter 250 - The Napping Hill and the Waxing Moon II

    Chapter 250 - The Napping Hill and the Waxing Moon II


    Virillius tapped a pen against his brow as he carefully scrutinized a particularly worrisome block of text. At a glance, it appeared as little beyond a piece of fetish pornography¡ªeach document consisted of an absurdly detailed scene describing a lewd mollusc and her sexual adventures¡ªbut a careful analysis revealed that his uncle¡¯s pen was as symbolic as it was degenerate. The recurring characters alluded to different entities and concepts, their precise identities taken primarily from the context clues of the years in which they were penned.


    They were surprisingly consistent in their meanings. Domina, which was coincidentally also the name of the late king¡¯s late queen, was a sea slug with two heads and a metaphor for the enemy. The precise identity of said enemy changed with the period, representing the thorae in the past, the Kyddarians in the present, and many others in between. Rhea, which was coincidentally also the name of the king¡¯s favourite mistress, was a tentacled snail and an illustration of their allies, particularly those always screaming for Domina¡¯s murder.


    For the sea slug to swallow the unnamed protagonist¡¯s girth was to describe a time in which the nation suffered a territorial loss, and for Rhea to do the same was for it to be reclaimed under the Cadrian banner. Long years of continued strife and battle were illustrated as moments where the male lead found himself unable to choose between the two, even as they lay exposed beneath him. Virillius had yet to determine what the more complicated, mollusc-specific acts entailed, but he was confident that they were more than just degenerate. Either that, or he was going insane. There was more than enough of the nonsensical pornography for him to lose his mind.


    In the past few months, he had gone through at least ten million words¡¯ worth. Perhaps because he was not sick in the head like his uncle, he derived no arousal from the poorly written erotica. Though it had somewhat bothered him initially, he had been completely desensitized by the time he finished sorting through the second pile. That was not to say that he didn¡¯t mind it at all, of course. It was more accurate to say that he was simply too fed up to care.


    The worst part of it all was that he couldn¡¯t tell if it was meant to be a sort of elaborate prank. Ferdinand had never mentioned anything about a mollusc fetish in life, and the younger cervitaur could practically see the man rolling around in his grave, clutching his sides and cackling as he watched his nephew begrudgingly sort through it. But at the same time, he could just as easily envision old Ferdy killing himself again post-mortem, if his preference was a secret he had hoped to keep. Whatever the case, he continued to read and suffer and suffer and read.


    It was on the thirtieth page that his attention was finally redirected, not because of the contents, but because he felt a sudden shift within the castle¡¯s grounds. A blob of divinity had inexplicably appeared on the other side of the property. And if his understanding was correct, that could only have meant one thing.


    His daughter was back again.


    Virillius knew that she was trying her best to avoid him, but he rose from his seat regardless and headed straight for her location. Her past few appearances had caused nothing but trouble, in part because she didn¡¯t hesitate to stand opposed to his narrative. Because she spoke so openly, it had become common knowledge around the castle that the princess was finally on the road to recovery. It took only a little bit of asking around to find someone who had witnessed her speak firsthand. For the most part, however, she continued to remain silent, speaking only when she was most comfortable. Or at least that was the narrative that the king and the fake had agreed to sell, for while the latter could speak, there was nothing it could do to sound anything like his daughter. Her voice was one of the many things that it was not allowed to borrow.


    The fake¡¯s status as a homunculus did not immediately render it an outlandish creature. There were many simple life forms that existed under the umbrella, such as mimics, elementals, and golems, just to name a few. If technicalities were to be observed, the replacement fell into the lattermost category. It was a golem made from blood and flesh, harvested following the ritual that had led to Claire¡¯s departure. Its construction was by no means simple. It had taken Virillius and Allegra three full weeks of overtime to engineer and build the fake, with only twenty hours of sleep elapsed throughout. And even then, it had not gone as planned.


    To claim the result a failure would be disingenuous, but true too was the opposite. For they had wanted a brainless creation, and it soon proved itself fully capable of sentient thought.


    Sentient homunculi were typically considered the cream of the crop. The circumstances that led to their creation were yet a mystery, and as far as modern magitech was concerned, any such hit was but a stroke of good fortune. Save for when its creator was in a rush.


    Like a real infant, a newborn homunculus was practically useless. They possessed a basic understanding of the Marish language, and they learned faster than the children of most races, but even then, it took extensive training to bring them up to speed. Such processes were entirely unnecessary for the non-sentient variants. They would simply abide by the instructions precisely as they were provided with no deviations, regardless of whether they were truly capable of parsing or executing them; a golem told to move between point A and point B would simply walk in a straight line unless provided the locations or distances at which it needed to turn. That, of course, was not the only approach. One could also instruct the creature to avoid all obstacles, so long as one strictly defined what those obstacles were and the parameters by which they were meant to be recognised. As homunculi were unable to think for themselves, however, deviations from the descriptions could easily lead to mistakes. Of course, it was not the creature that was at fault in such a circumstance, but its creator for failing to account for all the various possibilities and potential permutations.


    That was why the original plan had consisted of little more than ordering the fake to sleep all day. With it pretending to be in a coma, they could easily readjust their course whether or not the original returned. But alas, with its newborn mind as curious as it was, the homunculus grew bored and got out of bed no more than twenty minutes into her assignment. She began wandering around instead, and even visiting the places that the original preferred. It pained Virillius to watch. He was fine with it borrowing her appearance, but the emulation of her actions was a needle to the heart. It was like a piece of his daughter¡¯s spirit was still present, ever haunting him for his choice.


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    Still, he did not regret it, even as he dashed across the castle grounds in hopes of an encounter. It was not wrong to value the lives of the many over those of the few. It was a warrior¡¯s dignity to present his head for cause and country, doubly so if said warrior was of noble birth.


    If the lives of luxury led by the upper crust¡¯s members were provided to them by those that worked under them, then it was only right for them to offer those lives in turn when the masses were at stake. That was not to say that he would do something as foolish as trading himself for a random citizen. There was still a weight to the scales, and it made little sense to ignore it.


    He was well aware that she would never forgive him. Not for his most recent transgression, nor any of the others that had preceded it. Still, he continued pumping his wings, galloping straight through the air with her distant figure in his eyes. She tried to flee when she spotted him through a window. She kicked off the ground as hard as she could and dashed straight for the nearest door. But he did not allow himself to be denied. The king beat his wings against the sky and crashed straight into the castle. He mowed through the brick walls and crushed the door that was her destination. She spun around immediately, but he rose from the rubble and grabbed her by the wrist before she could so much as take a step.


    ¡°Good evening, Claire,¡± he said.


    ¡°Good evening, Father. To what do I owe the pleasure?¡±


    Virillius was perfectly stone-faced, but Claire greeted him with an innocent mask. Her cheer was so perfectly mimicked that, without any context, not even he would have known that it was faked.


    ¡°There happens to be a rather urgent matter that requires your attention,¡± he said, ¡°one that involves the advent of a rather divine guest.¡±


    ¡°A tragedy it is, then, that I am no longer a ritual mage.¡± She tried to wrench her hand away, but he stayed firm, even as she gave voice to the troublesome statement.


    It was the same manner of strategy that she had used before, only to a much greater effect. The witnesses were no longer prestigious knights sworn to silence, but gossip-loving maids with no knowledge of the circumstances at hand. Some of them looked on in shock, while others exchanged muted whispers. He knew already that there was nothing he could say to stop them from communicating their findings.


    Only the most diligent amongst them had returned to their work, with one running off to fetch the resident craftsmen, and another immediately turning her attention to the mess. Their names, he noted. He would ensure that they were given extra pay.


    ¡°All the more reason for us to sit down for a discussion,¡± said the king. ¡°Perhaps we might yet see the class restored.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that is impossible,¡± she said, with a smile. ¡°Now, I understand that you must wish to drag me off to one absurd matchmaking session or other, but I would very much like to be released before I am made into the royal equivalent of a whore.¡±


    ¡°I will consider it if you inform me of your current location.¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°I am currently in the royal castle¡¯s west wing, specifically on the third floor just outside the library.¡±


    Virillius fought back the urge to bang his head against the nearest wall, and after nearly losing, spoke in his usual, emotionless voice. ¡°And I have considered, and subsequently rejected the thought of releasing you.¡±


    She raised her other hand while he was speaking, formed a blade of ice, and drove it towards her wrist. For a level 2 homunculus, it was a swift motion, but he had no trouble catching her other arm and removing the weapon with a flick.


    ¡°Must you be so dramatic? Surely a brief conversation is better than putting up with the pain.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather put up with a thousand years of pure torture than deal with you for another half second.¡±


    The bare venom drew gasps from the peanut gallery, but Virillius continued to ignore it. The more he tried to hide, the worse the resulting speculation would be.


    ¡°Claire Augustus! I don¡¯t remember raising you to be so foul-mouthed!¡±


    ¡°And I don¡¯t remember you raising me at all,¡± she snapped. Her feet lashed out, kicking at his midsection but with little success. Not even when coated in a thorny layer of ice could she so much as break his skin. It was a clear fit of rage, a tantrum with no care for his well being. But at the very least, she was calmer than she had been during their first encounter.


    ¡°Then perhaps I will need to take some time to remind you.¡±


    He spread his wings, and with her still in his grasp, flew out into the open sky.


    ¡°Let go of me,¡± she hissed. ¡°Don¡¯t make me repeat myself.¡±


    ¡°Or what?¡± he asked, with a quiet chuckle. ¡°There is nothing you can do to threaten me.¡±


    Not bothering with a verbal response, she turned her legs into something of a tail and jabbed it towards her own chest. He inserted a wing in the weapon¡¯s path, but it phased through him and sank deep into her body.


    She ripped a glimmering, golden key from within her breast and drove it towards his face, but he evaded with a lazy twist of the neck. It was hardly a worthwhile attack. She would have had a better chance at hitting him had she completely forgone the key.


    He was about to mock her again when he felt a ripple by his skull. A faint distortion originating at the tip of her prehensile rear. It was accompanied by a swell of mana, far more than the fake could have possibly contained. Their surroundings suddenly warped out of shape; he was no longer in midair, but standing upon a snow-white mountain. And she was gone from his arms.


    An effect that lasted only for the briefest of moments.


    He was returned right after, the previous scenario perfectly restored. His daughter had reverted to her stone face. But it was clear, even if he couldn¡¯t quite read her expression, that her plan had ended in failure. The homunculus¡¯ magic circuits had been fried, completely overloaded by whatever spell she had tried to cast. He had no doubts that she was in a world of pain, even though she let none of it through her mask.


    She went limp after a few seconds of fronting, with the divine blob vanishing alongside her strength. The homunculus did not take over in her stead, for it too had its consciousness reaped by the failure¡¯s backlash.


    Virillius was left alone in the sky, an unconscious body in his arms, and his lips a faint frown.

 Chapter 251 - The Napping Hill and the Waxing Moon III

    Chapter 251 - The Napping Hill and the Waxing Moon III


    A distinct, familiar sound entered Claire¡¯s mind as she awoke from her slumber. Clinks and clanks, followed by creaks and groans. With each repetition, they grew ever louder. The sound of an armoured knight moving across a wooden floor, repeated for every soldier in the tiny army that slowly marched its way up the stairs. It was difficult to determine its exact size, but it sounded like a unit roughly twelve persons strong. Perhaps fewer if too many of them were four-legged, but such creatures were nowhere near as common in Vel¡¯khan as they were back home.


    Rolling over in bed, she extended an arm and reached for Boris, who was asleep on the nightstand, but she stopped shy of grabbing him as she recalled that the hotel was safe. The authority skill¡¯s barrier extended across all four of their rooms and captured the hall between them as well. Only authorised personnel could enter while she was present, a function only confirmed when the force was summarily denied. Exactly one person was able to pass through the shield, a woman whose steps were made heavy by her unnecessarily large chest.


    She knew that there was no danger, but the lyrkress kept her ears raised as her hazy mind gave form to the scene around her. It was already morning. The sun wasn¡¯t quite up, but the birds were already happily chirping away. Sylvia was still asleep, but that was a given. The lazy half-elf was anything but an early riser.


    Claire sat up as the panicked footsteps closed in on her door, but found herself too reluctant to leave her bed. She scooted only an inch at a time, often stopping to blink, stretch, or yawn.


    Neither the knocking nor the sound of her name pulled her from her stupor. And perhaps that was why she did not immediately realise it at first, but after stretching her arms over her head and taking a deep breath, she found that it could no longer be denied. There was something in the back of her mind bubbling with excitement, pushing her to rise. When she directed her attention towards it, it shied away and quieted down, but only for the briefest of moments.


    It was an interaction that had the lyrkress blinking. She had always assumed that only she could take the bridge. But clearly, the assumption was false. The fake was right there with her, urging her excitedly to look around and show it everything she always saw.


    She was almost tempted to comply, but she shook her head and walked over to the door instead, opening it just as the squid reached for the knob.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Thank the moon.¡±


    Arciel breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted the lyrkress. She fell forward, entrusting her weight and invading her personal space without a hint of reluctance. Claire contemplated stepping out of the way, so that she could watch as the squid planted her face into the ground, but decided against it after spotting the dark bags under the humanoid cephalapod¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°I assumed the worst when I heard that our troops were captured by the enemy elites.¡± Ciel spoke into her shoulder as she squeezed her waist. ¡°Is Lia present as well?¡±


    Claire nodded, a response that prompted the vampire to take a series of deep breaths and loosen her grip. Eventually, she stepped away, her composure mostly regained.


    ¡°I am glad that you are well.¡± It was only after she adjusted her hat and produced her fan that she spoke again. ¡°But I would very much prefer you made a report, so that I needn¡¯t have concerned myself with your safety.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re overreacting,¡± said the moose, with a roll of the eyes. ¡°Nothing¡¯s going to happen. Especially not with her,¡± she pointed at Sylvia, ¡°being as nosy as an erdbrecher.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps not, but this was the first incident after which we heard nothing, following a defeat.¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°I thought we had scouts.¡±


    Arciel pulled her hat over her eyes. ¡°They were eliminated.¡±


    ¡°All of them?¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, yes. It was only at a few of their posts that we found traces of combat. Most were likely caught unawares.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Claire led the princess over to the couch and closed the door behind her as she recalled the fishnet-laden assassin. ¡°I should¡¯ve known. One of theirs popped out of nowhere and stole my fishing rod.¡±


    ¡°Your fishing rod? For whatever reason were you carrying a fishing rod?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you know, nothing too important,¡± said the lyrkress, with an innocent smile.


    ¡°Claire? Please expl¡ª¡±


    Arciel furrowed her brow and began to speak with a worried tone in her voice, but Claire prodded her in the cheek and interrupted her. Of course, a single jab was not enough to make her yield, but the very same set of events was repeated when she tried again. It took five failed attempts for the squid to finally raise her hands in surrender.


    ¡°Good choice.¡± Claire stuck out her tongue.


    ¡°I must say that while it is reassuring upon the battlefield, your obstinance is insufferable at times like these,¡± said the squid, with a pout.


    ¡°I¡¯m not obstinate.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps I would be willing to accept that claim, if you informed me of the circumstances of our defeat.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Right.¡± Claire magically seized the witch¡¯s hat and placed it over her own head as she sat down in front of the coffee table. ¡°We killed the commander, but couldn¡¯t get past the mercenary. He was a defensive build, most likely thrice ascended. Fishnets was decently skilled too. I didn¡¯t notice her until Natalya pointed her out.¡±


    ¡°Whatever do you mean by fishnets? Is it meant to be a euphemism for the prison guards?¡±


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    ¡°No. Another erdbrecher, a rogue of some sort. Stealthy enough that I didn¡¯t notice her. Even when her eyes were on me.¡±


    ¡°It appears that the mercenary force in the queen¡¯s employ is more powerful than anticipated,¡± muttered the squid. ¡°Our intelligence network did not reveal so many proficient elites.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll be worth a lot of experience. If we can kill them.¡±


    ¡°I am not sure why I expected you to consider the problem from any other perspective,¡± said the squid, with a sigh.


    Her exasperation lasted until an eye suddenly opened atop the lyrkress¡¯ head. It rose like a periscope and slowly moved around, twisting its way from left to right. The curious oculus retreated back into Claire¡¯s mane when the qiligon followed the witch¡¯s gaze, but it was not quite quick enough to escape her notice. Even if she was in Claire¡¯s body, the fake remained bound by the confines of her speed.


    ¡°It appears that you are yet in need of rest,¡± said the bloodsucker.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± said the lyrkress, as an eye appeared on her ear. ¡°You need it more than I do.¡± She returned the witch¡¯s hat as she spoke, lightly placing it so it sat perfectly atop her head.


    ¡°Rest is a luxury I cannot afford. Now that I have confirmed your safety, I shall catch up on what is necessary upon returning to headquarters.¡± Arciel grabbed the halfbreed by the shoulders, spun her around, and pushed her back towards her bed. ¡°I would prefer if you did the same by noon. We are scheduled to hold an emergency discussion so that we may revise our plans over our midday meals.¡±


    Claire scrunched up her face as she allowed the stupid squid to steer her. ¡°I¡¯d rather not. Meetings are boring. I¡¯ll just fall asleep.¡±


    ¡°That, I do not doubt,¡± giggled the tentacle monster, ¡°but it was only the three of you that were present at the scene, and it is clear that you are yet in need of rest and unable to provide a proper account.¡±


    ¡°Have the cat do it.¡± The snake was rolled into her bed by a shadowy hand. The very same spell tucked her in under the sheets, while its yawning caster sat at the foot of her bed.


    ¡°I shall certainly be asking the same of Lia, and Sylvia as well, but it would be best for you to share your perspective, in the case that it captures a detail missed by both the others.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll think about it,¡± muttered the lyrkress.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I shall be visiting Lia and then taking my leave. Would you prefer I lock the door and slide the key back under?¡±


    ¡°Just close it. I¡¯ll lock it with a vector.¡±


    ¡°I shall do just that then,¡± said the squid. ¡°I bid you rest well, Claire. Let us convene again once your exhaustion has abated.¡± She stood up from the bed, her feet unsteady as she moved towards the nightstand and reached for the key.


    ¡°...Wait.¡± The lyrkress paused for a moment before sitting up and grabbing the retreating kraken¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Yes? What is it?¡±


    ¡°You need to sleep.¡± She stole the pointed headdress again and pulled it all the way over her eyes.


    ¡°I will rest immediately upon sorting the documents I left in Lord Pollux¡¯s castle.¡±


    ¡°You can do that later.¡±


    ¡°I cannot. They are urgent and require my immediate attention.¡±


    ¡°Do it when you aren¡¯t about to fall asleep.¡±


    ¡°There is no time.¡± Ciel tried to resist, but Claire refused to let go and drained her mana each time she attempted to break free.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. Sleep. Now.¡± The scalewarden tugged on the vampire¡¯s arms. Had she any more energy, she surely would have been able to keep herself steady. But being drained as she was, she fell straight into the other girl¡¯s arms. Claire threw her under the covers before she had the opportunity to complain, and sat atop her stomach to keep her from moving.


    ¡°How unreasonable.¡± Despite complaining, the vampire did away with her resistance and obediently closed her eyes, a faint smile on her lips.


    ¡°I¡¯m very reasonable.¡±


    Claire moved the tentacle monster¡¯s hat onto Boris¡¯ head and poked her in the cheek one last time before walking out the door. The princess¡¯ guard was awfully confused to see her venture out all by her lonesome, but she stuck out her tongue and waltzed into the squid¡¯s room without any further explanation. The lock meant little before her vectors. She effortlessly flipped the latch and invaded the kraken¡¯s abandoned den.


    Only once settled in her chair with the lock re-engaged did she finally raise her hand and confront the eye that had settled in her palm. Even with her gaze fixed firmly upon it, it was still spinning around excitedly, observing everything it could find. Its perspective was added to her own, throwing her field of view off-kilter. She didn¡¯t have any trouble when in control of her extra eyes, but with another entity at the keel, she found herself assaulted by constant waves of nausea.


    It didn¡¯t snap to attention until she called out to it in her mind, her voice a stern snarl. And even then, while it did regard her with some degree of deference, it couldn¡¯t stop its one eye from wandering. As much as she wanted to scream at it, she couldn''t quite bring herself to broadcast such a strong emotion. She could feel its pure, unadulterated joy. The very same kind that she had felt, when she was first allowed to explore. In a way, it was just like her, a sheltered princess finally free from her father¡¯s, their father¡¯s, unreasonable demands.


    That was why she sent it little more than an order to remain inconspicuous. She would allow it to manifest only if it remained within the confines of her tail. Specifically, it was to stay hidden in the hairy tip at all times. As compensation, she would use the abilities that it could not and activate her telescopic sight upon its request.


    Overjoyed by the prospect, the fake immediately pledged its obedience. From its newfound position, it looked out the window and loosed a silent gasp when it struggled to find the Langgbjerns. They were an ever present sight in Cadria, but from where they stood, on the third story of a building in the middle of Vel¡¯khagan, they were nowhere to be seen at all.


    At the homunculus¡¯ behest, Claire floated out the window and onto the roof as the sun started to rise. It was given the sort of view that compromised her location, but the lyrkress was unconcerned. It would only be a matter of time before Pollux exploited the hole in the contract¡¯s defenses and looped her father in. Whether that was sooner or later, she cared little.


    He was too busy to chase her down. From what she had gathered from the maids, he was swamped with a mix of administrative work and spent what little spare time he had tracking his brother¡ªher uncle. Perhaps he would send someone if she was causing him trouble, but she was fairly confident that, so long as she didn¡¯t butt into his business, he would not invest the resources while he was already spread so thin. At least not with his responsibilities shackling him to his throne.


    ¡°Though, that may just be wishful thinking,¡± she muttered.


    When she broke out of her thoughts and looked down at the city, she found it just as lively as usual. The previous day¡¯s incident had already turned into nothing but smalltalk and gossip for the morning commute. The people were far from panicking; no one seemed to suspect that the shadow of war was looming right overhead, even as the various factions rallied their troops and prepared for the upcoming confrontation.


    But like Skyward Spire, it was right there on the horizon. Its embers had long been smoldering, building up their strength amidst the scorching coals. And with all the heat already gathered, the status quo was all but set to burst.


    Claire stifled a yawn as she turned her eyes on the horizon. Perhaps because the sun¡¯s first rays were so warm, or perhaps because she was as tired as Arciel had suggested, she found herself feeling the need to close her eyes and fall asleep, but the spirit in her tail shook her awake and pointed its eye towards the sea. It knew she could fly. And it wanted to experience it again, without the limitations imposed upon her by its body.


    Seeing no reason to refuse, Claire fluffed up her wings and dropped down from the roof. Her hat would surely complain if she went on her morning flight without her.

 Chapter 252 - The Napping Hill and the Waxing Moon IV

    Chapter 252 - The Napping Hill and the Waxing Moon IV


    Claire stifled a yawn as she watched the meeting¡¯s participants rise from their seats. It had taken seven full hours for the lunchtime gathering to reach its conclusion. The various parties shuffled out of the room one group at a time; the bolder among them loudly professing their own viewpoints as they retreated, perhaps in the hope that they would remain fresh in the princess¡¯ mind. But it was pointless. There were too many like-minded idiots for the result to be anything beyond an unintelligible cacophony of noise.


    The royal in question remained seated. Her eyes scanned the various notes, taking into account both the records penned by the scribe, and the various adages scribbled across the room¡¯s three dozen chalkboards. She was not the only one to stay behind. A few familiar faces kept her company, as did a group of maidservants tasked with cleaning up the hall. The food trays and drinks had been taken away immediately upon their consumption, but there were scraps and spills all over regardless. Too many objects had been ejected from council members¡¯ mouths when they heard the news in detail.


    ¡°That was a mess,¡± said Lia. She brought her chair over to the vampire squid¡¯s desk and sat down beside her. ¡°How are you holding up?¡±


    ¡°I have seen better days, but worse as well.¡± Arciel leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. ¡°I wish only that there was more time in each week, so that I might be able to plan around our findings, and perhaps even find time to rest as well, if I were to truly dream of the impossible.¡±


    ¡°I told you.¡± Claire slowly raised her still groggy head as she vectored her chair across the room and joined them. The homunculus had vacated her body after the morning flight, but the migraine born of her curiosity still remained. ¡°You needed the sleep more than I did.¡±


    The princess nodded. ¡°It was a fair judgement.¡± Her eyebags were hidden, thanks to a thick layer of makeup, but a closer look revealed that they were certainly not any smaller than they¡¯d been in the morning. ¡°Even without any of the recent developments, I have had little time. Three hours each day, often less.¡±


    ¡°What the heck!? Three hours is way too little!¡± Sylvia leapt off of Claire¡¯s head as she voiced the complaint. For a moment, it looked like she would land on the desk and throw the documents into disarray, but she stopped just shy of touching down. The buoyant pet hovered in the air instead, just an inch or two above the closest file.


    ¡°It cannot be helped. There is far too much work for me to indulge in a luxury as expensive as sleep.¡±


    ¡°This is why you delegate,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°And to whom would I delegate my tasks?¡± asked the squid, with a bitter glare. ¡°I have already put all that I could to work, but there is a limit. Half our allies are outlaws, and the rest are hardly any more reliable. There are few that are qualified to make the decisions, and even fewer that I would offer my trust. You are one of the rare individuals that I would be willing to burden, but I am well aware that you would sooner plunge a dagger through my chest than fuss over a single page of administrative paperwork.¡±


    The lyrkress averted her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps you would be more responsible if you did.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah! Speaking of being completely irresponsible¡­¡± Sylvia swayed her hips from side to side as she played around with her front paws. This, of course, earned her a trio of looks, to which she responded with a nervous smile. ¡°Uhmmm¡­ errr¡­ actually, you know what? Nevermind. It¡¯s okay.¡±


    ¡°Stop stalling and say it,¡± said the moose, as she pinched her cheeks.


    ¡°I would also prefer to hear it now rather than later,¡± added the squid.


    ¡°Oh no,¡± groaned the cat. ¡°Please don¡¯t tell me this is about the people you helped.¡±


    ¡°It kiiiinda is.¡± She laughed awkwardly as she slowly backed up and ducked half her face under the table. ¡°So uhmmmmm¡­ I kinda forgot to let them go. I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯re still stuck in the bubble I left on the nightstand. And I mean I know it¡¯s my fault for forgetting, but I told Claire to remind me ¡®cause I knew I would forget so it¡¯s kinda not just my fault!¡±


    Arciel pressed her fan against her temple and closed her eyes. She sat with her back straight at first, but its angle began to change as she sank deeper and deeper into the chair. ¡°Why is it that this is the first I am hearing of this? We cannot claim to be just if we are to do something as absurd as capturing civilians.¡±


    ¡°This is why she isn¡¯t allowed to help.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± said Lia. ¡°I didn¡¯t think it¡¯d mean this much trouble.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! It was an accident, I swear!¡± squeaked the fox. ¡°A-and plus, it¡¯s not just civilians locked up in there! There¡¯s some enemies too! One of them even looks kinda important! He keeps praying and stuff and even tried pulling something out of a subspace. It didn¡¯t actually work ¡®cause he¡¯s already in mine, but that¡¯s besides the point.¡± She spoke at twice her usual speed, no doubt in part thanks to the eyes resting on her frame. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s ok! I can just uhmmm¡­ teleport them outside the city or something.¡±


    ¡°We cannot simply deposit the civilians and pretend that we did no wrong,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ then what are we supposed to do?¡± asked the fox. ¡°Just keep holding onto them and hope no one realises they¡¯re missing?¡±


    ¡°Someone will definitely notice,¡± said Claire. ¡°You¡¯ll need to make everyone forget they existed to begin with.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ that¡¯s kinda tough, but okay! I think I can pull it off.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait! Hold on!¡± shouted Lia. ¡°We can¡¯t just make people disappear because we messed up! Let¡¯s just own up to our mistakes, okay?¡±


    ¡°I am of the same mind.¡± said Arciel, as she scribbled a few orders onto a sheet of paper. ¡°How many of them are there?¡±


    ¡°Uhhh one sec.¡± Sylvia paused for a moment to stare at her paws and wiggle each toe in turn. ¡°I think twenty?¡±


    ¡°That is not an unrecoverable number.¡± The squid filled in a few extra blanks and read over the letter once more before sealing it shut with a waxen stamp and beckoning a maid to her side.


    ¡°What is it, Your Highness?¡± asked the human.


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    ¡°Take this to the treasury and give it to Matthias.¡±


    ¡°As you wish.¡±


    The squid watched the maid leave the room before turning her eyes back on her companions. ¡°As convenient as it would be to simply remove our errors, I do believe it would be best to incentivise their silence,¡± said the squid, with a sigh. ¡°When the maid arrives, she will do so with adequate compensation for the innocents involved. We will deposit them outside the city only after awarding them generously for their troubles.¡±


    ¡°Why would we do that?¡± said Claire, with a tilt of the head. ¡°It¡¯s a waste of resources.¡±


    ¡°To satisfy my moral compass. I would not be able to sleep soundly with the alternative under my pillow.¡±


    ¡°You barely sleep anyway,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°All the more reason for the few hours I have to be as comfortable as possible.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t hesitate to kill the arviads. I don¡¯t see how this is any different.¡±


    ¡°T-that was because they slighted my honour and then attempted to kill us.¡±


    ¡°That still weighs pretty heavily on my conscience. I wouldn¡¯t have minded if they were warriors, but they weren¡¯t,¡± said Lia, with an awkward smile. ¡°Oh, and that reminds me. You said that there was an important-looking soldier mixed in with the crowd, right? We should probably interrogate him.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah! One sec, I¡¯ll grab all the military-looking guys.¡±


    After climbing back up onto the desk, Sylvia spread her paws wide and opened a portal into the lyrkress¡¯ bedroom. She stuck just her front half through it, and with some struggling, plunged her fuzzy mits into the bubble sitting atop the nightstand. Four of the captives were extracted from within and thrown into the space behind her. They were still restrained, of course, with each sound asleep in their own personal bubble. But with the nightmare fox¡¯s magic removed, they were fairly quick to wake. In less than a minute, two scyphs, an elf, and a human were all banging against the walls of their prisons. Skills and spells went off, one after another, but the shields remained unblemished.


    ¡°There! Done!¡±


    The fox spun around, just in time to see the fan slip from between the squid¡¯s fingers.


    ¡°Ummm¡­ Ciel?¡± Sylvia waved her tail as she floated in front of the vampire, but she failed to enter her eyes.


    Arciel¡¯s gaze was focused on the human. He was dressed in a fancy suit of armour and had an expensive-looking sword strapped to his waist. Most notable of all, however, was not his equipment, but his head. The man was as bald as the seven most hairless Cadrians Claire had ever seen combined. His waxed, polished skull shone even within the otherwise dim conference hall, radiating pure white light as would a miniature sun.


    Claire had to narrow her eyes to see past the glimmering bulb. With some difficulty, she was able to make out a haggard-looking face drawn with a set of soft, almost feminine features.


    ¡°Cieeeelll? Heeeeeelloooo?¡± Sylvia floated in front of the squid and waved a paw, but there was no response.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with her?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Dunno,¡± said the fox. ¡°Love at first sight, maybe?¡±


    ¡°Do not be so absurd.¡± The squid retrieved her fan as she spoke again. ¡°It is his identity that has me baffled.¡±


    ¡°Were neither of you paying any attention at all during any of the mission briefings?¡± asked Natalya, with a hand pressed against her face.


    ¡°Nope!¡± said the fox.


    ¡°Why would I? They never get to the point,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°Why did I even ask?¡± muttered the cat.


    ¡°There is no argument to be made for their methodology, but neither can we argue with the results.¡± Ciel retrieved her fan before turning her gaze on the fox, her eyes glimmering. ¡°Sylvia, I would like to extend my honest gratitude. You have saved us an inordinate amount of risk and effort.¡±


    ¡°H-huh? I have?¡±


    ¡°The individual that you have captured here,¡± she pointed at the lightbulb, ¡°is Lord Tallumroc. Perhaps if you were to read through the material provided, you would discover that he is one of the leech¡¯s advisors, as well as one of her blades.¡±


    ¡°Ohhhh¡­ wait uhmmm¡­ oops. He¡¯s the paladin, isn¡¯t he? I guess that explains why he wouldn¡¯t stop praying ¡®n stuff.¡±


    ¡°Do not be deceived by his appearances. He is a rogue.¡±


    ¡°A rogue?¡± Sylvia tilted her head. ¡°He¡¯s too shiny to be a rogue.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯d stand out like a sore thumb, even by firelight,¡± agreed the lyrkress.


    The human screamed something or other through his bubble, but his voice was muted, and Claire couldn¡¯t be bothered to read his lips.


    ¡°It is said that the function of his head changes with the time of day. At night, it absorbs light instead of radiating it.¡±


    The man had something to say about this too. He screamed his heart out as he pounded against the bubble with even more force than before, but Claire silenced him with a paralyzing glare. It was meant to be a weak paralysis, more to harass the man than cause any harm, but perhaps because it was her first time using the skill post investment, or perhaps because of the constant, aching pain pulsing through her head, he was frozen solid, bubble, insides, and all.


    ¡°Oops.¡±


    ¡°Claire¡­¡± Arciel slowly shook her head. ¡°I must ask that you do not assault the captives.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t planning to.¡± She dropped the dagger hidden behind her back and returned him to his lizard-like form before he hit the ground.


    ¡°Wait, you weren¡¯t?¡± asked a very confused cat.


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°Why would I?¡±


    ¡°I figured that we needed the intel,¡± said the cat. ¡°And that you¡¯d probably butcher them for experience once we were done.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Cadrian policy not to touch prisoners of war. Besides,¡± the lyrkress grabbed the orange furball off the table and presented her to the feline, ¡°we don¡¯t need to go through the effort of interrogating them if Sylvia can just read their minds.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± the cat winced. ¡°I keep forgetting she does that.¡±


    ¡°Only when I¡¯m bored,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And it¡¯s not really mind-reading. I can just see what they see in their heads.¡±


    ¡°What about all the times you talked for me?¡±


    ¡°Oh uhmmmm¡­ that¡¯s different! That only works ¡®cause the stuff at the front of your mind is really strong. I know it sounds the same, but it¡¯s not! Mind-reading is a lot more thorough and stuff.¡±


    ¡°Stop making excuses and just do it.¡± The lyrkress tugged on the fox¡¯s cheeks.


    ¡°Ughhhh fine.¡±


    Sylvia paddled her way through the air and pushed a projection into each of the bubbles. The people inside tried escaping her, but to no avail. Her phantom copies grabbed each by the head in turn before diving straight into their minds.


    ¡°Mmmmn¡­ Iunno if there¡¯s anything really worth mentioning. All the recent stuff is like drunk parties and elephant guys and stuff.¡±


    Arciel frowned. ¡°Surely that cannot be all.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnn... The guy on the right has some maps in his head, but ours are better. And uhmmm¡­ I think that¡¯s it? I can probably try looking a little bit more if you give me something specific, but I didn¡¯t see anything else when I was just glancing around.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps once we compensate the innocents,¡± said Arciel, as she looked towards the door. The maid was already making her way back through, a hefty leather bag in hand. ¡°Are you able to sustain this prison indefinitely?¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnn, I think so, but they¡¯ll probably die if we leave them in there for too long, since they gotta eat and stuff.¡±


    ¡°Then I shall endeavour to speak with them by midnight,¡± she said, as she scribbled a note on one of the boards. ¡°Now, might you be so kind as to transport us outside the city, so that we may release our guests? The western exit will do.¡±


    ¡°Mmk!¡± Sylvia began clapping her paws together, in a regular, rhythmic beat. ¡°One magical foxhole, coming right up!¡±

 Chapter 253 - The Napping Hill and the Waxing Moon V

    Chapter 253 - The Napping Hill and the Waxing Moon V


    Unlike the eastern gate, which was buried deep beneath the crashing waves, Vel¡¯khagan¡¯s westernmost entrance was up on dry land, roughly fifty meters above sea level. It was not the only gate on its sunset flank. There were five in all, serving not only as doors in and out of the city, but also the ends of the various roads attached thereto. It was only on land that such obvious paths could be seen. There were certainly popular currents to ride beneath the waves as well, but the empty space between them saw just as much fin traffic.


    The dense forest did not extend all the way to the walls. There was a large swath of cleared land in between, with many houses and homesteads filling the space. There were parks and fields as well, wide open spaces not unlike the one that had hosted the snow art contest some four weeks prior. And it was not only in the wide-open plots that the difference could immediately be seen. The changes were mirrored in the architectural style as well.


    While the city had aquariums left and right and watery canals all over, the suburbs had none of the above. Stone was rare, and the only glass in sight was used for windows, while the buildings themselves were made primarily of wood and lime. The people that lived in the suburbs were just as different as their buildings. The aquatic hordes were nowhere to be seen, replaced by land dwellers aplenty. Elves and sentient trees made up most of the difference, while the rest was covered by the usual suspects. Lizardmen, humans, centaurs, insectoids, and other common species could all be counted in droves.


    It certainly wasn¡¯t a slum. The materials weren¡¯t cheap or shoddy, and the overall design of the neighborhoods suggested that their owners were in the middle or upper-middle classes. And yet, those that dwelled within the walls assumed that a property outside them was much cheaper, thanks to the lack of fortifications and protections. And their concerns were certainly not unwarranted. The giant slabs of rock would keep most of the dumber monsters out, while the more intelligent ones would avoid contact with sentient creatures to begin with. Whatever the case, monsters that entered the city¡¯s limits would be promptly dispatched by the town guard. The suburbs were still technically a part of the city, and the local knights had as much a duty to the citizens outside the wall as they did the ones that lived within.


    Still, the risk did exist and could easily be seen with a quick glance at the numbers. Noncombatants living within the barrier were generally somewhere in the level 10 range, as their jobs were rarely physically demanding. The farmhands, construction workers, and smiths on the outside, however, would sweat enough to be in their high twenties or low thirties. And perhaps because of this, they often carried themselves with a distinct air of superiority. A quick ask was almost sure to confirm that the men thought themselves manlier and more attractive than the impotent city boys, in spite of the fact that they bathed less than half as often.


    It was precisely to avoid the unwanted pheromone bombs that Sylvia opened a portal near the edge of town. It was a quiet location, a quaint meadow that would surely blossom into a field of beautiful flowers come late spring. And with only a few days left in winter, the signs were already starting to show. The air was warming, the snow was melting, and the grass was green.


    ¡°Is here okay?¡± asked the fox, as she stepped out into the cold.


    ¡°It will serve our purposes wonderfully. Thank you, Sylvia,¡± said the squid, as she looked around. The city¡¯s outmost edge was roughly a third of a kilometer away, while the forest was about one and a half in the other direction. There were still a number of people out and about, but with the moon already high in the sky, it was unlikely that any wayward civilians would bear witness to their magical shenanigans. ¡°It will not be difficult for our unfortunate friends to find their way back into the city from here.¡±


    Claire twisted her lips into a frown as she looked towards the city¡¯s gate, more specifically, its security detail. ¡°I¡¯m not so sure. Their story won¡¯t make much sense. There¡¯s a good chance that they¡¯ll be detained.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, but it is not as if we can simply teleport them inside its walls without being spotted. The leech and her minions do not yet know all the cards in our hands, and I would prefer not to introduce a potential leak.¡± She spread her fan as she kept an eye on the portal. Their party¡¯s members were long accustomed to them, but the final passenger, the maid was nervous. She hesitated to put her feet through it, moving only as Boris, who was standing in line behind her, booped her right through.


    ¡°We could take them somewhere we know is fine,¡± said Claire. ¡°Like her godmother¡¯s hotel.¡±


    She looked at the resident feline, but she was hardly paying any attention. Her neck was craned up, and her tail was slowly swishing from left to right.


    ¡°Natalya.¡± The cat didn¡¯t immediately reply when called, so Claire grabbed the two sides of her face from behind and squished them together.


    ¡°H-huh!? W-wha!?¡± The sudden harassment had her nearly jumping out of her skin, but the lyrkress¡¯ hands kept her exactly where she was.


    ¡°I was talking to you.¡±


    ¡°O-oh, sorry. I wasn¡¯t listening.¡± She tried to turn around as she spoke, but again the hands saw her detained.


    ¡°Is there something over there?¡± Claire followed the former soldier¡¯s eyes to find that she had been staring at a barren tree seated atop a particularly tall hill. She focused on them with her telescopic eyes, but she couldn¡¯t make out anything of note. There was nothing but the snow cluttering its branches and the swing that hung beside its trunk.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°Then why were you staring?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± A faint blush spread across her bespeckled face.


    ¡°Oh, great. Of course it was something perverted.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± Claire stepped away from the blademaster and picked up the fox instead. She carefully ran her hands along the smaller creature¡¯s body and scrubbed the cat off her fingers.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a pervert, Claire! I swear to Tzaarkus!¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m not a towel!¡± cried the washcloth.


    ¡°Sorry.¡± She spoke to the now-unsanitary fox as she set her back down on the ground. The apology was genuine¡ªshe did feel bad for her, but the cleanliness of Sylvia¡¯s fur was a sacrifice she was willing to make.


    ¡°I¡¯m not lying! I swear I wasn¡¯t thinking about anything perverted!¡± shouted the cat.


    ¡°Perhaps you could aid your case if you were to enlighten us with the thoughts you did entertain,¡± said Arciel, with an amused smile.


    ¡°Not you too,¡± said Natalya, with a groan.


    ¡°I do apologize, dear friend. There is little I can say in your defense, but I do believe you possess a means of clearing your name.¡±


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    ¡°Okay, okay, fine. I¡¯ll say it.¡± Her ears drooped as she looked back towards the hill with her face growing hotter again. ¡°I just thought that it would be a nice place to take a nap.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°Tell us the whole truth.¡±


    ¡°T-that is the whole truth!¡±


    ¡°Liar.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not, I swear!¡±


    ¡°Your tail is twitching around nervously, your ears are facing out, you¡¯re playing with your thumbs, and you keep averting your eyes.¡± The lyrkress poked each part as she mentioned it, albeit only after coating her hand in a thin layer of ice. ¡°Not to mention, your heart¡¯s beating far too quickly for someone that isn¡¯t hiding anything.¡±


    Lia hung her head. ¡°Okay, okay, fine! I get it! P-please stop listening to my heartbeat!¡± Her cheeks turned even redder. ¡°I just¡­ thought that it¡¯d be a nice place to have a picnic and then maybe fall asleep next to someone.¡±


    Claire tilted her head.


    ¡°I-it¡¯s just that the tree is like, really thick, so you could probably cuddle up to someone. And it has a great view of the city, so it¡¯d probably make for a decent date spot¡­¡±


    ¡°I knew it was something perverted,¡± muttered the lyrkress.


    ¡°That¡¯s not perverted!¡± cried the cat. ¡°It¡¯s wholesome! And it¡¯d be nice with friends too.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnnn¡­ I guess it depends what you do on top of the picnic blanket?¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°See! She¡¯s way more perverted than I am,¡± shouted the cat.


    ¡°You were the one having weird fantasies,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°I-I mean yes, but didn¡¯t you hear what she just said!?¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°That¡¯s normal. For someone raised by a human.¡±


    ¡°I was practically raised by one too,¡± grumbled the cat. ¡°My teacher was human.¡±


    ¡°That explains a lot,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Now that¡¯s just plain mean,¡± said Natalya. ¡°I didn¡¯t pick up on any of his tendencies, a-and just to be clear, I wasn¡¯t molested either!¡±


    ¡°The fact that you need to state that explicitly says more than enough.¡±


    ¡°Wait a second!¡± said Sylvia, with a tilt of the head. ¡°Wasn¡¯t your teacher a huskar? I thought he was supposed to be in love with your auntie or something.¡±


    ¡°Ladies, I would love to continue this conversation, but I believe we should prioritise the release of our incidental prisoners,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Oh right!¡± Sylvia opened a second portal and retrieved a large bubble from the other side before closing both. ¡°So uhmmm¡­ do I just put them here?¡±


    She waited for the squid to nod before popping the magical cell with a swish of the tail. The prison wagon suddenly swelled in every direction, growing in just half a second from a tiny model to a full-sized vehicle. The armoured turberus attached to it had been asleep inside the bubble, but it jerked awake and broke into a mad dash with the wagon still attached.


    It did not, however, manage to get very far. A pair of mystic eyes paralyzed its body as soon as it took off. Claire retrieved the troublemaker, detached it from its harness, and threw it into the cage along with all the others.


    Everyone else was still asleep, courtesy of the fox¡¯s spell. The obvious solution, at least in Claire¡¯s mind, was to grab the bars and shake them awake, but she refrained. It was no longer the time or place to act as she pleased. She followed the maid¡¯s lead instead and took up a spot just behind the Vel¡¯khanese princess whilst switching from her casualwear into something a little more formal, a long-sleeved blouse with a subdued navy dress placed on top. She magically pulled the fox into her arms as soon as she was changed and moved the cat beside her.


    A few of the captives were already starting to stir. An old elven businessman, a young human girl, and a bipedal rat in a dress were the first three to awaken, and the others were quick to follow suit. The staggered timings may have appeared somewhat strange to an outside observer, but such was the norm with magic-induced sleep. The spirit and vitality stats determined the precise length of the abnormal condition, but none of the people in the wagon were of a notable level.


    While those with poor constitutions might put a few odd points into vitality, it was practically unheard of for the average Joe to put anything into spirit. Its effects manifested primarily when struck by magic, and there were few non-combatants concerned with their resistance thereto. For the most part, it was only important government officials, magical researchers, and farmhands with certain types of livestock that could really be bothered.


    Voices began stirring amongst the freshly woken crowd. Panic set in immediately, with some rushing to the bars and others waking up as a result of the commotion, but Arciel put an immediate end to the hysteria by driving her staff into the ground. She began speaking as soon as she drew the crowd¡¯s eyes, her voice slow and calm.


    ¡°Ladies, gentlemen, I do apologize for the inconvenience. You were captured courtesy of a mistake endured during a government operation. We have taken the liberty to ensure that you have remained asleep and unharmed in the meantime.¡± She spoke in a calm, controlled tone. ¡°We have, unfortunately, had to relocate you while you were unconscious to prevent harm to your persons. We understand that this may not have been desired, and as compensation, every individual present shall be awarded a full pound of silver for the trouble.¡±


    The particularly well-dressed among the incident¡¯s victims were not quite content, but most appeared to brighten up at the mention of compensation. They were so happy, in fact, that they immediately stopped asking questions. One of the children had tried to say something or other, but her mother clamped a hand over her head and excitedly shook her head.


    ¡°Please form an orderly, single-file line as you exit the cage.¡±


    Lia and the maid handled most of the work to follow, with the cat directing the victims back towards the city, and her sidekick handing them the promised silver. Both the unhappy rich snobs tried complaining about something or other, but Claire paralyzed them before they could cause any trouble and puppetted them off. There was an undeniable temptation to powerwalk them into the forest instead, but while she did move them roughly a kilometer in the treeline¡¯s direction, she eventually convinced herself to turn them back around.


    ¡°And that, I believe, is the last of them.¡±


    Arciel tucked her fan away as she watched an overweight kelpfin vanish over a small hill. Like most of the others, he sprinted towards the gate while keeping a careful eye on his bounty. A reasonable choice, given how much it was worth.


    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m glad they all took it so well,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°Except the two idiots,¡± said Claire.


    The cat replied with a strained smile. ¡°Thanks for dealing with them.¡±


    ¡°I shouldn''t have changed my mind,¡± muttered the lyrkress. ¡°I¡¯m sure the wolves would¡¯ve been happy to have them.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, but I do not see a reason to architect their elimination. They may not have been the most pleasant pair, but I doubt they would provide any meaningful experience,¡± said the squid.


    Claire averted her eyes. ¡°Shush. Not everything¡¯s about experience.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± said the witch, with a giggle. ¡°Now I believe our business here is concluded. We¡¯d best be off.¡±


    ¡°Not yet.¡± Claire shook her head and pointed her tail at the hill. ¡°You need to catch up on some sleep.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you just call me a pervert for suggesting that?¡± grumbled Natalya.


    ¡°Mhm. She totally did,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°My intentions are pure,¡± said Claire. ¡°Yours weren¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yes they were!¡± cried the cat.


    ¡°Whatever you say.¡± The lyrkress stuck out her tongue as she began stepping away.


    ¡°What of the prisoners?¡± asked Arciel, as she caught up. ¡°Should we not handle their interrogation first?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll be fine. People can go a few days without food or water.¡±


    It was a bit of a trek to the top of the hill. It was covered in grass the whole way, and some parts were steep enough to be difficult to ascend. But it proved well worth the effort. Upon arriving at the summit, they turned to find all of Vel¡¯khagan laid out before them. Everything was visible, from the suburbs to the wall to the castle to the sea, all glimmering beneath the light of the moon.


    ¡°You were right, Lia.¡± Claire smiled softly, speaking again only as the cat crested the peak. ¡°This really is a nice spot for a nap.¡±

 Chapter 254 - The Napping Hill and the Waxing Moon VI

    Chapter 254 - The Napping Hill and the Waxing Moon VI


    The following week vanished in the blink of an eye, with the impending threats growing more obvious throughout. The dungeon stopped just outside the city, roughly two kilometers beyond its limits and five above the sea. Queen Priscilla had taken the opportunity to assure the public that no harm would come, and for the most part, the people were willing to accept her judgement. Only the fliers were bothered, and even then, it was a minor inconvenience. Few would ever rise high enough to find themselves adversely affected by the spiral winds.


    While it was certainly a contributor, confidence in the crown was not what drove the laissez-faire attitude. The lack of skepticism stemmed from the experience the locals had with natural disasters.


    The powerful, titanic creatures that lurked beneath the deep cared little for the lives led by those on the surface. Once every few years, they would clash, fighting for access to territory and mates. And each time, a countless number of tsunamis would sweep across the city. The coastal people had been forced to adapt their bodies and buildings to ensure that they could weather the storm. That was why so many structures were built of glass and stone, so that they would stay standing even under the weight of the sea.


    It didn¡¯t take an engineer to determine that the wave-resistant buildings had little resistance to the dungeon¡¯s wind wall. But even so, the joyful atmosphere refused to abate. That was not to say that there was no one concerned. Many of the wealthier residents, especially the rich merchants with no stake in the upcoming coup, had already fled with their families and key possessions in tow. Such a fleet-footed retreat naturally opened up opportunities for the less risk-averse to step in and raid their abandoned homes. One could very easily argue that it was a nonissue. The merchants had effectively stated that they were willing to lose everything they had left behind, and it hardly mattered to them whether it was taken by the galewinds or the poor. The crown issued orders to suppress the lawless raiders by force nonetheless in the name of enforcing the law, but Arciel¡¯s men stepped in at every turn and took the opportunity to chip away at their ranks.


    No longer were the skirmishes as small as they had been just a few weeks prior. Several hundred-man clashes had occurred in broad daylight, often in public spaces where they could easily be observed. With soldiers on both sides screaming their allegiances, it had become obvious that there was a much larger conflict brewing beneath the surface.


    And yet, even with two major threats looming on the horizon, most of the city''s residents were unconcerned. A similar phenomenon would have been observed in Cadria, but Claire found the Vel¡¯khanese perspective bizarre. Unlike the fervent warmongers that lived under her father, the locals did not have unwavering faith in their army, and it was not because they knew that they would be unharmed that they remained in their homes. The citizens considered the dungeon a moot concern and the civil war as a cause for excitement. Everyone that was anyone was talking about it, and Gulfweed Reef''s patrons were no exception. Drunks of all shapes and sizes were screaming points and counterpoints at one another. They talked about rightful heirs, economic stability, and taxes¡ªasinine opinions that failed to capture any insight into the developments at hand.


    Some even shouted right over the rebel royal¡¯s head without making the connection that the Ciel they knew was the very same Arciel Vel''khan in the nation''s spotlight. Claire still refused to use the royal¡¯s nickname, save in a few rare cases, but not even that was enough to tip them off. While drunkenness and stupidity were certainly two of the many factors that played into their blindness, the blame did not necessarily fall upon their heads alone. To assume that a literal princess¡ªtwo literal princesses, to be more precise¡ªfrequented the freakishly average restaurant was an absurd conjecture in and of itself. Anyone that went as far as suggesting it was laughed at, their opinion silenced and thrown to the wind.


    It didn¡¯t help that the people loved naming their children after their royals; girls whose names began with ¡®Arc¡¯ were about as common as dandelions in an untrimmed field. Even though none of them had any idea what the three letters were meant to represent.


    ¡°We are in need of information.¡± The squid breathed a sigh as she closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat. ¡°I cannot determine the best course of action given how little we know of the erdbrecher force.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve told you ten times already, stop thinking about it,¡± said Claire, with a roll of the eyes. ¡°Just relax.¡±


    The cervitaur was sipping away at a glass of juice with a quash board laid out in front of her. Lia sat on the other side, carefully scrutinizing the lay of the land whilst fiddling with one of her fallen pieces. Claire had already declared her moves, but the cat was still deliberating. The game was about to reach its climax; both armies were built up and on the verge of their final confrontation.


    ¡°Do not be so unreasonable,¡± said the squid. ¡°I could not possibly rip it from my thoughts.¡± She opened her mouth to elaborate, but a floating fork shoved a piece of chicken between her lips before the words could leave her throat.


    ¡°Less brooding, more eating.¡±


    The others had finished their dinners before starting the game; their plates had long been taken away by the waitresses, washed, and reused for another set of customers. Arciel, on the other hand, had barely touched hers.


    ¡°If you think about it, thinking isn¡¯t really gonna help,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯s not like you¡¯re gonna suddenly figure out how many guys they have.¡±


    The squid¡¯s men had spent the better part of the week following the mercenaries around the town, but not even Pollux, who still brazenly walked around the castle grounds, was able to provide much in the way of intel. Only the erdbrechers were allowed in their quarters. Not even the maids were permitted, for they could easily be kidnapped and threatened into revealing the mercenaries¡¯ numbers.


    ¡°Perhaps not,¡± said the squid, as she swallowed the bird meat, ¡°but I thought that the change in location might have found itself accompanied by a burst of inspiration.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnn, I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯re not gonna think of anything if you haven¡¯t done it already. You¡¯ve been at it for like a whole hour.¡±


    ¡°How about you take a bit of a break?¡± suggested Lia. She scribbled a few notes in her usual notebook and began moving her pieces. ¡°My second general¡¯s army will be heading to the foundry and setting up an ambush. My spy unit will convert to an assassination at the volcano, and m¡ª¡±


    ¡°Your first general¡¯s army will charge the hills with preparations to commit honourable suicide with a ritual vessel in hand,¡± said Claire, in her place.


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    ¡°What the heck!? How did you know!?¡± The cat collapsed on the desk and buried her face in her arms.


    ¡°You were staring at the hills for almost a full two minutes. And you play like one of my cousins.¡±


    ¡°Ughhh¡­¡± She groaned and raised her head, only to pale as Claire shoved a piece of scrap parchment in her face. All three moves were perfect counters to the plans she had just committed; her schemes had been so thoroughly dismantled that she felt like her soul was on the verge of abandoning her body.


    Satisfied with the catgirl¡¯s lament, the lyrkress turned to the squid and grabbed her by the nose. ¡°She said take a break, not sink back into thought.¡±


    ¡°I cannot. There is no time to waste.¡±


    They were on the verge of deployment. The dungeon was ready, the birds were evacuated, and the troops were briefed. All they needed to do was await the appointed time.


    ¡°All the more reason to stop thinking.¡± Claire put a little more strength into her nose pinch. ¡°Changing the plan at the last second won¡¯t do us any good.¡±


    ¡°I suppose not.¡± Arciel pushed her plate aside and placed her head on top of her arms. ¡°It is just¡­ I cannot help but worry.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of things to be worried about¡­¡± Lia retrieved her pocket watch, and flipped it open. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we be getting into position? It¡¯s almost six.¡±


    Claire looked out the window and narrowed her eyes. ¡°We still have time.¡±


    Evening was already upon them. The sky was in the midst of changing from orange to red and the sun halfway beneath the distant shore. As could be seen from their surroundings, the city¡¯s workforce had already retired for the day. They had long abandoned their offices, shipyards, and construction sites to drink away their nightly woes.


    ¡°Barely,¡± said Lia, with a frown. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be ready in thirty minutes, and we haven¡¯t even double-checked our equipment.¡±


    ¡°We checked it before we left,¡± said Claire. ¡°Both of you need to stop worrying.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I know!¡± Sylvia raised a paw. ¡°We should talk about something more fun. Maybe that¡¯ll get everyone¡¯s minds off everything.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Uhhmmm¡­ I dunno. What do people normally talk about when they¡¯re about to go out to war?¡±


    ¡°How about what we¡¯re going to do when all this is over?¡± Natalya¡¯s suggestion was immediately met with a trio of exasperated looks. ¡°W-what?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure talking about that kinda stuff right before a big battle gets you killed,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Or at least that¡¯s how it always went in Al¡¯s books.¡±


    ¡°T-that¡¯s just a superstition,¡± protested the cat.


    ¡°The plays say otherwise,¡± said Claire. ¡°There¡¯s always some dumb grunt that dies right after talking about his fiancee.¡±


    ¡°Yeah! That¡¯s pretty much how it always goes in the books too,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°While I would rather not take inspiration from exaggerated epics, I would prefer not to count my chickens before they have hatched,¡± added Arciel.


    ¡°Besides, we all know what we¡¯re all going to do anyway,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°W-we do?¡± stuttered Lia.


    Again, she was given a number of looks, but Arciel eventually spoke in a low voice after checking their surroundings for eavesdroppers. ¡°I believe that it would not come to you as a surprise that I shall reign over this land as its queen.¡±


    ¡°R-right.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m gonna keep an eye on you guys while you go around stabbing everything you see. Especially Claire, since she¡¯s super reckless,¡± said Sylvia. The tactless comment earned her cheeks a rather aggressive tug, but the fox was so accustomed to the act of violence that she didn¡¯t even flinch. If anything, she leaned into it and rubbed her face against her captor¡¯s fingers.


    The cat pressed her hands into her seat and fidgeted as she spoke. ¡°R-right, about that¡­ I was actually thinking that it might be a good idea to settle down somewhere, and maybe even open a shop of some sort.¡± She paused for a moment to look around the table before continuing, her cheeks a little redder than before. ¡°I-it¡¯s just that it¡¯s getting really hard to level up, and I¡¯m not really sure what we¡¯re working towards in the first place. The job board is great and all, but it doesn¡¯t really seem like the most reliable way to make money.¡±


    ¡°What would you even sell?¡± asked Claire, with a cock of the head.


    ¡°I have a few ideas, but I¡¯m going to have to talk to Auntie about their long-term viability before I make up my mind.¡±


    The lyrkress narrowed her eyes for a moment before suddenly stretching a hand towards the table, her fingers locked on the cat¡¯s journal. Lia was faster, however. She slammed the leatherbound book shut and hugged it to her chest. Claire didn¡¯t give up right then. She tried pulling at the feline¡¯s fingers, but her grip was strong as steel.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t! I already have Sylvia reading my thoughts, I don¡¯t need you doing it too!¡±


    ¡°What the heck! That¡¯s just slander!¡± shouted the fox. ¡°I only look in your head like once every few weeks!¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t look in it ever!¡±


    ¡°No way! How am I supposed to know what you¡¯re thinking if I don¡¯t read your mind!?¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say, just the other day, that you couldn¡¯t read minds?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°I would also prefer to see this point clarified,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Uhh¡­ I did?¡± The fox started backing away, but she had started too close to the window. It didn¡¯t take long for her to find herself plastered against it, with three unhappy friends staring her down. ¡°Errrr¡­ uhmmm¡­ I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about?¡± she said, with a nervous laugh.


    ¡°You aren¡¯t getting out of this one,¡± said Claire, as she commandeered the vixen¡¯s cheeks.


    Though her mana was being drained at random intervals, the fox turned her body incorporeal and slipped through the glass. An icy hand appeared behind her and shot towards her scruff, while a jet black tentacle grew from the building¡¯s shadow, but she phased through both before teleporting back to her usual seat.


    ¡°Nice try, but you¡¯re not getting me that easily,¡± she said, with a giggle.


    ¡°Phasing through spells is cheating,¡± grumbled the lyrkress. ¡°How am I supposed to catch you if I can¡¯t touch you?¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn, I dunno, but I¡¯m sure you can pull it off if you really really try.¡±


    ¡°Somehow, I doubt that.¡±


    ¡°¡®Cause you need to try even harder.¡±


    ¡°Can we do this some other time?¡± asked Lia, as she got up from her seat. ¡°We really need to go.¡±


    ¡°I suppose we must,¡± said Arciel, as she followed suit.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Claire tried one last time to grab the tiny vixen prancing around on top of her head before she gave up and turned her attention towards the horizon. It was a wonderful evening. Even indoors, she could practically feel the cool winter breeze as it whooshed through the streets. There was still some time before the mission would start, but her heart was already racing.


    The sun had fallen.


    And soon, the queen¡¯s head would follow.

 Chapter 255 - Bottom of the Sky

    Chapter 255 - Bottom of the Sky


    The princess¡¯ army was the first to move. Men flooded out of the forest in droves, forming a line along the main path that spanned twelve men across and almost a thousand long. It was a full division, a combination of land and water-based forces. But though it marched on the gate, there was no one to sound the alarm, for the guards joined the end of the line as it passed through the wide open doors. They exchanged a few pleasantries with their compatriots as they traded their spears out for the axes and claymores they favoured. It was only recently that the groups had started getting along on passable terms. While they did not necessarily treat the pirates and other lowlives as equals, they would at least address them with some degree of respect. For they were all united under a single banner, and as the guards understood, they were all fighting with the princess¡¯ honour in mind.


    With the crisis at hand, the queen was not so foolish as to rely on those whose allegiance was uncertain. She had her own watchmen sitting atop the ramparts, ready to sound the alarm. But they were silenced before they could make their reports. Cadrian sky knights descended upon them from above. With dark, stormy clouds to hide their brilliant white wings, they appeared only as the distance was closed. Their wings carried them like arrows, driving their bodies towards their targets with all the force of a furious god. There were no weapons involved. There was no point. Anything they used would surely have broken. Just like their bodies.


    Every time a soldier landed, he would share his target¡¯s fate. Both attacker and victim would be turned to mangled balls of flesh and bone, barely recognizable as their innards and blood mixed and mingled. But while the locals were unprepared for the sudden, brain-bending pain, the centaurs welcomed it with open arms. It was neither pain resistance nor masochism that drove them to seek it, but the knowledge that they could endure what their foes could not. Gritting what was left of their teeth, they forced their bodies to turn from paste to slime and slime to flesh. The anguish that coursed through their bones was magnified a thousand times as they paid the price of an artificial reconstruction. An untrained man, even one stoic enough to remain unflinching in his gelding, would simply lose consciousness and perish before his body could heal. But every Cadrian missile regained its function after its use and returned to the sky. Ready to be launched and flattened again.


    The few Vel¡¯khanese scouts missed on the first wave panicked when the second descended upon them. They pumped their legs and pushed their fins. But even with all their stealth skills active, they were readily caught and destroyed.


    Splat. Splat. Splat.


    The sound rang throughout the night.


    Until there were none left to hear it.


    The only survivor was a single female erdbrecher. The fishnet-laden elite danced through the air, evading missile after missile as a trail of invisible platforms formed right under her feet. At a glance, it appeared as would a wingless reproduction of the concept of flight, but the common rogue skill was nowhere near as performant. It came with too many limitations. She was limited in both velocity and direction. If either value dipped outside an acceptable range, the spell would immediately be broken and she would fall to the ground like any other wingless creature. The weakness telegraphed her trajectory. It was obvious, even to the untrained eye. And yet, the Cadrian meat missiles continued to miss their mark.


    It was not a result born of their incompetence. Their aim was true. But her agility was too far in excess.


    Not even by coordinating their strikes could they catch her. They launched themselves from the castle, twenty at a time, with each predicting a slightly different path, only to plaster themselves into the buildings and streets. Even a turn of only one degree would throw a man too far off to hit her.


    She soon made it onto the castle¡¯s grounds. A particularly confused group of guards, tipped off by the thundering crashes, tried to stop her at the rampart, but she bolted past them and entered the building through an open window. She maintained her speed as she dashed down the hall and flung herself down a familiar path. Three turns later, she burst through an old, creaky door, and into a musty room with the sweat still pouring down her brow.


    ¡°Bad news,¡± she said, with a series of tired trumpets. She didn¡¯t bother standing on ceremony, even though she knew that the boss would¡¯ve preferred it. ¡°We¡¯re un¡ª¡±


    She didn¡¯t even get to finish her sentence before falling silent, her eyes wide and her nose twisted into a knot.


    ¡°What is it, Ayla?¡± The older erdbrecher, Emelia Braun, set down the pen she had in her trunk and turned towards the baffled rogue.


    Ayla shook her head and straightened her nose, snapping to attention before she finally started to speak. ¡°We¡¯ve got two problems. The first is that we¡¯re under attack, and the second,¡± she pointed her springy nose at the window behind the clan¡¯s matriarch, ¡°is that the dungeon¡¯s back on the move.¡±


    When the older erdbrecher looked out the window, she caught the sky in the midst of its descent. Every cloud in the circular formation dropped at once, falling from its lofty height and threatening the city beneath it. The winds almost seemed to grow more powerful as they advanced, churning up the waters and throwing the harbour into a state of disarray.


    With just that one move, the navy found itself half-gutted. The sailing vessels were blown away, thrown in random directions by the spiralling winds. The smaller ones were especially impotent. They were even sucked into the sky, accompanied by captain and crew alike as they were consigned to their final destinations. Most of the heavier ships were still anchored, but with their sails ripped to shreds and random objects impacting their hulls, they too were rendered useless. The devastation worsened when the storm advanced on the capital. It continued to fall, drawing closer and closer and closer to the sand. And the people that lived on top of it.


    It was not difficult to imagine the hellscape that would follow if it was to drop just another ten feet. But whether it continued to descend or not, the end result was the same. It would soon collide with the castle.


    ¡°What do we do?¡± asked Ayla, with a frown.


    ¡°The same thing we¡¯ve always done.¡± Emelia grabbed her gear from all over the room and armoured herself in a thick layer of metal and magic. ¡°We fight.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s a good idea, boss? Things aren¡¯t exactly looking up, and frankly, I think the princess has probably got a more legitimate claim to the throne than the queen.¡±


    ¡°That certainly may be so, but it was not the princess that purchased our services.¡± The last piece she equipped, after shouldering a dozen weapons, was a helmet heavy enough to throw most grown men off balance. It was shaped perfectly to fit her elephantine skull, with places for her tusks and a flexible protector for her nose.


    ¡°I know, bu¡ª¡±


    ¡°Ayla.¡± The older erdbrecher¡¯s tone was harsh at first, but it softened when she began to speak again. ¡°We are mercenaries. We may sell our loyalties for gold, but even then, we have our pride. Whatever our employer¡¯s intentions, we cannot betray them once we have received our payment, lest they violate our terms.¡±


    The rogue paused for a moment before lowering her head. ¡°I understand.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± The matriarch patted the fell assassin on the shoulder and twisted her lips into a smile. ¡°Now let¡¯s go tell the queen what you saw.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Mother.¡±


    The calf still had her doubts, but she lowered her head and followed the matriarch down the hall. Regardless of how the battle ended, she would have to think and observe. So that one day, she too could grow wise enough to lead the herd.


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    ___


    Two key political figures watched over the battlefield from atop their trusty steeds, their faces twisted into irritated frowns. One was a knight among knights, a seasoned veteran of great renown, and a battlefield terror with a hundred years¡¯ experience. The famed warrior was dressed in an eye-catching suit of armour. There was not a hint of the man¡¯s flesh available beneath his platinum defense, polished so carefully that it shone even with the stars clouded.


    The other was his master, an unbreakable will that had pulled itself from the very pits of hell, a villain that would readily kill in cold blood following just a few choice words. The civilian killer was dressed in an outfit befitting a murderer, an old wizard¡¯s robe atop a formal suit, dark red tie and all.


    They were avatars of death that only fools would dare challenge. But they were pursued nonetheless by fortresses of wood and stone. The turberus-drawn warships entered with their cannons blazing; to strike the pair down would be to secure certain victory. But despite the impending peril, neither responded to the hailstorm of bullets. There was no need. The storm was their shield and the blizzard their sword. The captains that braved the winter¡¯s final act fell before them, their efforts as meaningless in death as they were in life.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ guys? I know you¡¯re half acting ¡®cause there¡¯s people watching, but you probably shouldn¡¯t just keep standing around. Claire¡¯s getting really mad.¡± The fox that voiced the warning was a passenger, a wayward wanderer that had happened to share one of the figures¡¯ mounts.


    It was precisely the aforementioned flying horse that was the problem. Outwardly, she showed not even the slightest hint of annoyance. But dwelling within her chest was a flame of vengeance, fueled almost entirely by her allies¡¯ inaction. She was being forced to work, to maintain the ice storm that spanned the dungeon¡¯s exterior, while no one else on her head showed even the slightest hint of remorse.


    When the addressed squid failed to respond, Claire opened one of the eyes on the back of her head and stared at her. Her irritation further blossomed as she determined that Arciel was completely unapologetic. The expression plastered across her face was one of amusement, a smug grin that rubbed her stretched equine podium in all the wrong ways.


    ¡°Would it kill you to cast a spell or two?¡± she grumbled, with her eyes narrowed.


    ¡°It may,¡± said Arciel, with a triumphant, teasing giggle. ¡°I must conserve my mana so that I may duel the whore, per your condition.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean do nothing. You could at least take down a ship or two.¡±


    ¡°The minute that I spend recovering the mana spent is a minute during which I am vulnerable. Whatever would I do if she was to engage me right there and then?¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°Stop being ridiculous. You already know that isn¡¯t going to happen.¡±


    ¡°If things go according to plan,¡± said Lia. Like the vampire, the catgirl was aboard the H.M.S. St. Claire. She was sitting in the captain¡¯s seat, her hands on the mane that doubled as the flying submarine¡¯s bridle.


    ¡°They will.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so sure,¡± mumbled the cat. ¡°Everything went wrong the last time I tried attacking a powerful royal.¡± She grabbed the squid¡¯s hand and gave it a squeeze. ¡°It isn¡¯t too late to back out.¡±


    ¡°If one of you doesn¡¯t have cold feet, it¡¯s the other,¡± grumbled the lyrkress. ¡°Just kill her and be done with it. It¡¯s not that hard.¡±


    ¡°Yeah! Remember all those times you guys killed the leviathan? That¡¯s gotta be way tougher than some dumb leech,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Yes, but that was with all of us,¡± said Lia, ¡°and we barely squeezed out most of our wins.¡±


    ¡°Sure, but it was also over a thousand. I wouldn¡¯t be so worried,¡± said Matthias, as Marcelle floated over. He was the only one on the second mount. To Claire¡¯s dismay, the manatee was by far the better option for the situation at hand. She was not only more mobile but also a much smaller target. In fact, none of their attackers had bothered firing on the flying blob after she easily outran the first few waves of bullets.


    But while she was certainly an outstanding stealth craft, the sky cow wasn¡¯t without her weaknesses. For one, she was practically unarmoured. She had padded her health to some extent, thanks to the levels she had accrued as Matthias¡¯ horse, but she was still liable to go down in a single hit. More importantly, she lacked the lyrkress¡¯ firepower and relied almost exclusively on her rider to deal anything beyond the slightest semblance of damage.


    ¡°There is also the matter of my equipment,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Every piece has been enchanted specifically for resistance against the whore¡¯s techniques.¡±


    ¡°I know, it¡¯s just¡­ this is how I lost my sister.¡± Lia moved her hand to the sword on her waist and squeezed its handle. ¡°She had a plan, and gear too, but we underestimated our opponent.¡± The cat took a deep breath. ¡°She was killed before she had the chance to enrage.¡±


    ¡°You need to stop worrying,¡± said Claire, as she narrowed her eyes. ¡°Keep it up, and I just might throw you off my back.¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t. I¡¯m still not sure if I¡¯m over my fear of heights.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not. I just heard your heart skip a beat.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush.¡± The catgirl leaned forward and buried her face in the longmoose¡¯s mane. She tightened her grip as well, just to make sure she wouldn¡¯t slip off. ¡°It¡¯s all your fault. I never would¡¯ve been scared of heights if you never dropped me for fun.¡±


    ¡°I doubt that,¡± said Claire, ¡°with how cats behave.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah! I remember hearing a bunch of stories about cats climbing trees and then getting too scared to go back down,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°T-that¡¯s ridiculous,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°She stuttered,¡± said Claire, as she twisted her lips into a grin.


    ¡°Mhm, she totally did,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°It is an irrefutable fact that cannot be denied,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°S-s-so what?¡± asked the cat.


    ¡°Figure it out yourself.¡± The moose giggled as she suddenly changed her trajectory. Her body shot straight up like an arrow, just in time for her to avoid a wave of cannonballs fired from the flank of a half-broken ship. She retaliated in kind by lifting her tail and firing a blast of ice. The magical beam tore through the hull and sent what was left of the vessel plummeting out of the sky.


    Frankly, she was impressed it had made it that far to begin with. She was above the cloud formation that housed Skyreach Spire. And because the winds around it were so violent, the only way to reach her was to conquer the storm. But alas, neither the intrepid sailors nor the valiant flying turberi existed any longer; both parties had already been converted to logs and experience.


    The dungeon was effectively their ride. The barrier around the castle was already active, thanks to a certain erdbrecher¡¯s report, and there were few ways to breach it with a head-on attack. The defensive matrix was tough, even more so than the one that surrounded the city.


    They would not have been able to circumvent the defense had Vel¡¯khagan been built atop a ley line. Without a particularly well-suited concept, one could only pierce such a barrier by overpowering the magical vein itself¡ªa feat with which even an aspect would struggle.


    Fortunately, the Vel¡¯khanese capital was nowhere near as secure. With a battery fueling its shields, there was only so much punishment it could take before crumbling under the stress.


    Hence the dungeon.


    The spiral winds were the perfect weapon. They would assault the barrier until it broke; even the most expensive collection of magical accumulators would quickly be depleted if subjected to such extended violence.


    They did at least make an attempt to minimize damage to the city. They kept the vacuum from touching the ground, suspending it roughly fifteen meters above the streets beneath it. Most homes were fine, but anything over five stories, namely the various seaside resorts and attractions, was summarily deleted. Of course, there were few such buildings to begin with. Stockier structures with elevated floors fared much better than the more traditional, landlocked alternatives seen outside the walls.


    The rich were the only ones to invest so heavily in foreign architecture, and even they considered it wasteful spending. Their accountants depreciated anything without a traditional construction over three years instead of the usual fifteen. Still, the structures often fell before losing all their value. Olga¡¯s hotel was one such example. The entire building had been ruined by flooding and rebuilt at least six times over the course of the past decade.


    It was not just the winds that posed a threat. The monsters lurking within the storm did as well, but most stayed close to the dungeon and attacked only the ships and warriors that joined them in the air. The more aggressive beasts had been yanked away from the ground and deported back into the sky, where they could feast upon the sailors torn from their broken maidens.


    The queen¡¯s airforce had wholeheartedly dedicated itself to stopping the dungeon¡¯s advance. Valiant mounts, carrying warriors and mages on their backs, took to the skies with their eyes set on the tower, spells and weapons at the ready. But every transport was frozen and ejected from the heavens before anything could be accomplished. Though most were unaware, their efforts were almost entirely pointless.


    Neither Claire nor any of her allies had been able to inflict any lasting damage. The average soldier had no hope of emerging triumphant.

 Chapter 256 - Bottom of the Sky II

    Chapter 256 - Bottom of the Sky II


    Though the princess¡¯ men waited just outside the castle¡¯s ramparts, the armies did not clash as soon as the shield was depleted. The usurpers bided their time, hovering around just beyond the loyalists¡¯ range. Had they the liberty to spare any attention, the queen¡¯s forces surely would have cursed their enemies for their cowardice. But they could afford no such liberty, for they were preoccupied with the need to flee the impending storm.


    The hurricane began with a dominating performance. It was not just the mages and rotund officers that were unable to escape it. No matter how fit, the men in its path were swallowed, stolen by the watery tornado and torn to bloody shreds. The buildings were equally as unsafe. Every interior encountered was collapsed, ripped apart and rendered as hopeless as the last.


    But then the tower fell. A blade of water, thin as a hair and sharp as a scalpel, flashed through the darkened sky. It cleaved the dungeon in half, tornado, tower, and all. Skyreach spire groaned as it crashed into the fortress¡¯ grounds, its storm clouds dispersing into the night. Its brick walls fell apart to reveal magical portals, distortions that connected the godsent interior with the world beyond it. Monsters poured through the exits, forming a panicked stampede as the building collapsed.


    It was only then, as the shoggoths and trolls bore down on the castle, that Arciel¡¯s army advanced. Despite the poor start, the queen¡¯s men were quick to regroup. The few still suited for combat escaped the broken buildings and, with the help of their compatriots, challenged monsters and usurpers in kind. They forged powerful arcane shields and vibrant elemental barriers, but their defenses faltered as soon as a pair of centaurs took to the front line. One was a tiny warrior waving around a massive chain, and the other, a bard with a harp as his shield and a club covered in sleighbells.


    The friends that heard his song were empowered, granted vibrant, glowing auras that heavily bolstered their abilities while the enemies leaked blood from every orifice. They desperately clasped their hands over their ears, but the voices echoing through their heads refused to be silenced.


    Whatever the state of the battlefield, Claire cared little. She made for the castle immediately, aiming right for the source of the sky-parting spell. The enemy troops¡ªscyphs and flying fish that had taken to the air¡ªtried to stop her, but she blew right past them and crashed headfirst into its outer wall. The brittle stones crumbled before her mighty scales, leaving not a scratch as they were ripped apart and thrown all over.


    The queen¡¯s audience chamber retained its striking aesthetic even with its ceiling collapsed by the intruders. Its floor was made of clean, white sand, filtered to be purer than any found in nature. Even in winter, the waves were still ebbing and flowing and the water beneath their feet was warm.


    The room itself was something of an artificial archipelago with terrariums all around, each an island with an ecosystem of its own. Some of the animals, she recognised¡ªCadrian snakes, adapted to generate heat in the midst of winter, Ryllian dogs with gills growing in their big, floppy ears, and Kryddarian milk spiders, known for their ability to identify and parasitize the finest cattle¡ªbut so too were there bizarre creatures she had never before seen. There was an angler fish with a book as its bait, a slime with a human face, and even a hivemind of crabs, that for whatever reason, decided to take the shape of a chicken.


    Few gardens were kept out in the open; there were some suspended in the air, and others built into the walls, but most were located beneath the waves. And it was precisely that limitation that prevented Claire from enumerating them. The throne room¡¯s pools were so deep that she couldn¡¯t see through to the bottom. It didn¡¯t help that the room was only dimly lit; there were only a few candles still burning at the time of their intrusion and half of them had been snuffed when the qiligon landed on and crushed the throne beneath her talons.


    Any queen contained within the chair¡¯s confines surely would have met the same fate. But alas, the whore was nonpresent. Nor was anyone else, for that matter. The silhouettes that they had spotted from the outside were dummies made of sand, seated around a table made of the same material. There was an empty spot among them, situated right next to the window, but its owner had already retreated.


    Intel suggested that the command center was located underground, hidden in one of the castle¡¯s many secret chambers. Once holding grounds for the damned, they had been refurbished, transformed, and even commonly used after ownership of the castle changed hands. For they were the only rooms never touched by moonlight, the only rooms where they could hide from Griselda¡¯s prying eyes.


    But while they could escape the princess¡¯ goddess, the same could not be said for her fox.


    Sylvia began to sing as the others took their places atop the table, with Claire turning humanoid so she wouldn¡¯t crush it under her weight. And then, one by one, the spaces began to fill, the sandy decoys swapped for the members of the senate still loyal to the queen. There were military folks present, dressed in uniform and still in the midst of debate, but so too were there administrators in their pajamas, their work completely unrelated to the violent affairs at hand. The few that came armed had their weapons and armour deported before they could act, thrown back into the portals from whence they came.


    ¡°W-what the hell is going on!?¡±


    ¡°Preposterous! How are we here? What is this twisted magic!?¡±


    Some of them shouted and screamed, but not all were confused. The war veterans in particular remained stoic. They eyed their surroundings carefully, their gazes rarely remaining on the royal that had taken center stage.


    The queen, who had been warped to the head of the table, was among the calm and cautious. Though pale from mana deprivation, she reared her head and turned her tiny eyes around the room, focusing not only on the three girls, but the various animals hovering around them as well.


    Of course, such a commotion did not go unnoticed for long. A score of knights, dressed in full suits of armour and equipped with matching weapons, charged through the door. Most wore standard armaments: blades, wands, and spears, but the eccentrics did not go unserviced. They lurked within the crowd, archers and axe wielders, and even a man with a pair of oars. Regardless of the particular weapons chosen, the unit¡¯s aesthetic was preserved. Everything that they carried, from head to toe, was made of the same metal alloy, shiny enough to glimmer beneath the starry night sky.


    Wordlessly, Natalya grabbed the longsword mounted to her shoulder and moved to intercept. She leapt off the table, scattering the sand as she dove into the enemy lines. Her blade was drawn as she touched the floor, a motion that flowed seamlessly into a heavy, two-handed strike.


    Her first opponent, an orcaped with a giant claymore, raised his weapon and intercepted her blade. A flimsy, short-lived resistance. Blood erupted from his body as his upper half slid off its seat. His sword, his armour, and his body. None of the three had offered even the slightest smidgeon of resistance before being sawn in two.


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    His companions immediately drew their arms, with many switching to spears to extend their range. The longer weapons provided the ability to skewer her from afar. It was a good move in theory, but Lia slipped between a gap in the wall, and with another swing, claimed three fresh heads. Even the shields put up by their allies were cut right through. Clean, perfect slashes, undeterred by the presence of magic or matter.


    If they knew that the swings hurt her, that each cost a small sliver of her health, they surely would have fought with more ferocity. But when faced with the differences in both power and technique, the locals balked and crumbled.


    It was only the commander that stood firm. She caught the catgirl¡¯s sword with her wand and retaliated with a snip of the claw, but Natalya vaulted over the centipede-lobster¡¯s attack and kicked her in the face. The dazed knight quickly regained her balance and charged. Her wand was swept through the air. The magic circle at its tip crafted a hail of arcane bullets, each in the shape of a card.


    They homed on the cat¡¯s location, but she closed the distance and drove her blade through the lobster¡¯s skull before their effects could manifest. The result was strictly a product of the difference in their levels; one was barely two fifty, while the other was nearing five hundred. The crustacean had put up a decent fight, but little else could be said in her defense with nothing to show for her efforts.


    It was when the domineering cat spun around and flicked the blood off her blade that the squid standing atop the table finally began to speak.


    ¡°Ladies and gentlemen of the council, ministers of all affairs.¡± Her body changed as she spoke; her bottom half lost its humanoid properties and reverted to its default form, while her skin went from porcelain to blue. ¡°I am Arciel Vel¡¯khan, the rightful heir to the throne, and the judge of your sins.¡± Her clothes changed to match as well, courtesy of the magic imbued in Sylvia¡¯s song. The two-legged pants sprouted exactly ten segments, each of which housed a thick, purple tentacle. All but the two thickest limbs bound together to form a formal, pleated dress. ¡°I know full well that you have been plotting against me, and I shall provide precisely one chance for you to redeem yourselves.¡±


    That was Claire¡¯s cue. She walked around the table, forging a blade of ice for each of the attendees. The weapons were floated in front of their faces, their handles facing their new owners.


    ¡°You may use these to slay either yourselves or the whore. Do that, and your families will be absolved of your crimes. Refuse, and I will see your lines exterminated outright.¡± A devilish light flickered through her eyes as the final dagger was given to the queen herself. ¡°I shall grant you one minute to decide. Should you have any objections, you would best voice them now.¡±


    ¡°This is prepostero¡ª¡± One of the ministers rose from his seat, but he was silenced in the middle of his complaint. With his own two hands, he grabbed the dagger out of the air and jabbed it into his throat, twisting and turning it as his words turned to gurgles. Dark, crimson blood leaked violently from the wound as a faint, blue light spread throughout his body, freezing his veins from the inside out.


    ¡°Thank you, Baron Variem. I shall do as you have suggested and order the elimination of your estate.¡± Again, she looked around the room. ¡°Are there any other objections?¡± None of the ministers dared to speak. ¡°Good.¡±


    The vampire¡¯s gaze was cold enough to give the man¡¯s executioner a run for her money. But how could it not? Before her eyes lay the council of greedy conspirators that had turned her kin to livestock, the murderers and slavers that had rejected her aunt¡¯s benevolent rule and milked her to her death. Not even the ones that had joined her side would be forgiven. The blood debt ran far too deep for that.


    The queen was the only one that dared to use her voice, but her words were silenced. She alone was kept in a bubble that allowed sounds to travel in only one direction.


    ¡°Have you made your decisions?¡± The vampire smiled as she looked around the table after an indiscriminate amount of time. It was clear from the fear and confusion in their eyes that they were not yet decided, but she proceeded regardless. ¡°Those that shall support my ascension to the throne, you may rise and grasp your blades.¡±


    There was little movement at first. Only two cowardly men ascended from their seats, taking the knives in their trembling fingers. One was a weary old elf, a commander in the army, perhaps admitting his loss, while the other looked the part of a young triton, barely at the age where he could be considered an adult.


    ¡°Lord Cristletham, you dare to betray Her Majesty!?¡± shouted a greying lobster.


    ¡°You ignoble brat!¡± echoed a spherical starfish. ¡°Your father would be ashamed!¡±


    ¡°My father is dead,¡± said the young man, with trembling lips. ¡°And I have no intention of repeating his mistakes.¡±


    It was as he justified his actions that another few members rose, the minister of finance, Lord Walker Gra¡¯ache among them. His presence had an immediate impact on the royal eel. She nearly fell out of her seat, her tiny eyes open wide enough to be visible across the room.


    ¡°I am sorry, Your Majesty, but I must place my hat on the other party¡¯s rack. The spending that comes with your administration is ludicrous. Perhaps you haven¡¯t noticed, through your rose-tinted glasses, but the burden of taxation is too great for the people to bear. The merchant class in particular has suffered too greatly to expand, which has led to monopolies in several key industries.¡±


    His speech led a number of men to shuffle in their chairs, with some even half raising themselves and sitting back down.


    ¡°Princess Arciel.¡± He turned towards her and bowed. ¡°I beseech that you allow me the honour of delivering the first strike, as a show of loyalty and dedication to your cause.¡±


    ¡°You may.¡±


    The man grabbed the floating blade when Arciel nodded and walked across the room with slow, hesitant steps. He traversed roughly a quarter of its distance before Claire appeared in front of him and rammed a lizard through his chest. Eyes wide and lips dribbling with blood, he looked down in horror at the gaping wound.


    ¡°You¡¯re a terrible liar,¡± said the lyrkress. She turned back towards the vampire, whose smirk was plainly visible, as she peeled him off of her weapon. ¡°They¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Then I suppose the time for charades is over.¡±


    She tapped her staff against the floor and summoned a wave of shadowy spikes. They emerged from beneath the table, impaling the council¡¯s members regardless of whether they had risen to their feet.


    Some of the military¡¯s higher-ups struggled against their executions. They threw up their defenses, magical or otherwise, but alas, they failed to postpone their deaths. Unlike in Cadria, where it was the strongest men that led, Vel¡¯khan¡¯s officers were effectively noncombatants. They did have some levels of course, courtesy of the years they had served much earlier in life, but officers and strategists were expected to relinquish their prior classes to focus on the grand calculus of the battlefield. Most were turned from warriors, berserkers, and knights to mathematicians, scholars, and philosophers. There was even the coveted tactician class, which was required for any of the higher-ranking positions and could only be obtained by earning the recognition of the god of scholarly pursuits himself.


    Despite what most belligerent barbarians may have suspected, the classes were not useless. They allowed the officers to empower their men with boosts to nearly all of their scores. Some even trained in these abilities from birth, though such a luxury was typically reserved for the wealthy.


    That was why it was the lower-ranking officers that served as the queensblades. For they were the only experienced fighters that had not renounced their personal power.


    ¡°Now, as you can see, Your Majesty,¡± said Arciel. She continued speaking her venom-laced words, even as more soldiers swarmed in through the doorway. They were not the common rabble they had previously entertained, but powerful warriors, with many of the erdbrecher mercenaries among them. ¡°You no longer possess the means to run this country.¡±


    The queen tried to say something, but again, the bubble negated her efforts.


    ¡°Sylvia. If you may.¡±


    ¡°Okay! Gimme just one second¡­¡±


    The fox clapped her hands, and after a brief delay, teleported the queen and her huntress atop a skyborne stage. Where they would duel with the city as witness.

 Chapter 257 - Bottom of the Sky III

    Chapter 257 - Bottom of the Sky III


    Claire narrowed her eyes as the queen¡¯s men filed into the room, led by the crocodile that had escaped them at the end of the previous year. The sewer runner stiffened when he saw the corpses scattered all over, sighing only as he confirmed that the monarch was still in one piece. His solace, however, was short-lived. The relief quickly turned to horror when she was spirited away at Arciel¡¯s command.


    He spun around the moment she was warped and craned his neck up to her new location. Eyes wide and fists trembling, Sir Deilos immediately made for the still-crowded exit, but Claire gave the pet lizard no chance to reconvene with his owner.


    She stuck out a hand and grabbed him from afar. He had shrugged off her vectors during their first encounter. Back then, she had only been able to tear a few scales and hinder his movement, but with her points invested, she had no trouble lifting him off the ground. The confused lizard flailed about, but it was a fruitless effort. She seized all four of his limbs at once and pulled them in different directions, drawing and quartering the warrior in midair.


    He was unable to break free until he enraged. His eyes filled with madness, he turned towards her and unleashed a bestial roar. He kicked off the ground, followed by a group of elites almost twenty men strong. They were the guards that served as the ministers¡¯ right hands, accomplished fighters the key government figures were willing to entrust with their lives. Alas, they were too late to fulfill their duties. All their masters lay dead on the floor. And they themselves were quick to follow.


    Stepping in their path, Natalya allowed only Deilos to pass. She dove into the crowd with both her weapons drawn, the horse-slayer in one hand, and the rapier in her mouth. The first man she challenged blocked both her blades, but she raked her claws across his throat before he could recover from the heavy impact.


    Another man rushed her as the first fell. He roared at the top of his lungs, his sword raised overhead and his feet pounding against the sand. The kelpfin¡¯s bloodthirsty charge was fearsome as a bull¡¯s. His raw energy screamed that he would trample everything in his path. But he was too slow. She closed the distance between them before he could lower his blade and delivered a heavy slash that arced across his chest.


    A third assailant snuck up on her from behind, but she whirled around and struck with her rapier. He raised his sword in time to block it, only for the catgirl to release the blade from between her teeth. Catching it in her free hand, she impaled him, effortlessly running him through with no concern for his defense. She was swarmed upon his death. A dozen soldiers charged her all at once, but the results remained unchanged. The catgirl almost seemed unstoppable, at least until an elephant met her head-on.


    She was a petite, tuskless female that stood a full head shorter than the feline berserker. But despite her small stature, she had no trouble rejecting the blademaster¡¯s attacks. The katars in her hands were not made of steel or iron, but a bright blue metal, the very same material used in the cat¡¯s heirloom sword.


    The elephant jabbed her blades forward one at a time, like she was delivering a series of punches, and forced Natalya to retreat into the path of an enemy pike. It nearly pierced her side, but she spun out of the way before it could land and kicked the spearman into her assailant.


    Unfortunately for the man in question, the erdbrecher had no concern for his well-being. She cleaved him in two with a sadistic chop and dashed between his parting halves. The petite mammoth drew a third katar with her trunk as she closed the distance and swung all three blades at once.


    Lia took half a step back and caught the onslaught in a single, well-placed parry. With her hips as a fulcrum, she pushed forward and led into an attack, but the erdbrecher backflipped out of her range. The agile demonstration earned the long-nosed warrior only a moment of relief. Her foe lunged and intercepted her right as her feet touched the ground.


    There was another clash of blades. Metal sparks filled the darkened room as Lia led with her horsekiller. The rogue barely parried each blow as she backed away. Her allies stepped forward, only to be slain each time they came to her aid. Before long, she found herself with nowhere to go; her back was against a pillar, and the catgirl¡¯s swords were closing around her neck like a pair of scissors. She barely evaded by ducking and springing forwards, only to discover that she had fallen for a feint. Natalya threw her rapier towards her mouth as soon as the katar-wielder lowered her stance and swiped at her with her claws instead.


    A plume of blood spurted into the air as she caught the smaller warrior¡¯s trunk, but the wound was too shallow, a mere glancing blow. The prehensile nose darted towards the cat undeterred, leaving a cut on her face following a narrow dodge. Three others surrounded Lia and slashed at her with their blades, but she ducked beneath their attacks and cut their legs out from under them. This retaliation earned her a shallow cut from the elephant, but it was hardly damning.


    They exchanged several blows in close quarters, quick thrusts, weak slashes. Neither side suffered any major damage, but it soon became clear that the cat was at a disadvantage. Her weapons were longer, unsuited for an extended melee, and the elephant wasn¡¯t giving her the room that she needed to deal with everyone else that came her way.


    But though it looked like she would soon be whittled down, Lia showed no signs of panic. She dug her feet into the ground and leaned into the base of the erdbrecher¡¯s right knife. Her fist flew forwards as she shouldered the attack and drove the butt of her rapier into the elephant girl¡¯s gut. Backed by a thousand points of health, the empowered strike was heavy enough to send the katar-wielder into and through the pillar.


    A different elephant nearly struck her from behind before she could pull back her fist, but she side-stepped his attack whilst drawing a pair of runes in the air. One was the usual, a quick enrage to restore her missing health and fix her wounds, whereas the other was a trick she picked up when her berserker class had evolved.


    It was a character available only to those that walked her master¡¯s path. She was no longer an ordinary, run of the mill runecraft berserker, but a fervent runeblade. And it was precisely the eponymous rune of fervour that she had inscribed into the air in front of her. The ancient, powerful letter shook like a ringing bell as its form was completed. And for a few moments, it remained, ingraining itself into the fabric of reality before lighting up like a match and burning to ash.


    The spell came with few visible changes. The glimmer in the catgirl¡¯s eyes grew brighter and wilder, and her claws grew three times longer. Her back was hunched and her knees were bent¡ªher whole body was closer to the ground. It was a bestial stance, showing no signs of training or reason. And yet, the seasoned veterans inadvertently backed away with beads of sweat forming atop their brows. There was a strange pressure radiating from the catgirl, one that their bodies understood better than their minds.


    Had her master been present, he would have surely been glad to explain the rune¡¯s effects. It was a modifier. The magical letter allowed her to enrage with a far lesser penalty, or at least that was the gist. To be more specific, she could achieve the same status boosts as she would when she dived to the deepest levels while only activating the drawbacks associated with the first. With the class just over five hundred, she could dive to level eleven. And with each stage increasing all of her ability scores by roughly thirty percent, she found herself with eighteen times her usual strength. All exchanged for a few pinches of sanity.


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    For the most part, her mind was still intact. But her inhibitions were gone, her sense of morality replaced with raw bloodlust.


    The difference in her speed was made immediately apparent. She moved through the room, dashing between her enemies with her swords and claws flashing through the air. At first, there was no sound, nor any other obvious results. But then it all caught up with her at once. The distinctive roaring of thunder. The knights were torn apart, the slashes so violent that they completely obliterated them with the raw bludgeoning force. Their blood and guts exploded all over the room. Raw viscera painted the scene in a thick, goopy layer of red.


    And yet, there remained a number of survivors, among which stood the tiny katar wielder and a grug shrouded in a holy shield.


    She directed her attention to the final target without even a moment of hesitation. Her mind was hazy, but she recognised the cat-pawed frog as the most powerful of the three queensblades. He was Sir Klaun, an enemy VIP that they were meant to approach with caution.


    Alas, the concept was one that did not exist within the realm of the catgirl¡¯s mind.


    Lia dashed right up to the holy frog and thrust her swords toward his heart. She was blindingly fast, but the man was unperturbed. He stood and waited, his hands behind his back, as the tip of her blade crashed into his golden barrier. For a moment, it looked like the magical defense would hold, but the cat stomped her feet into the ground and pushed the weapon forward with a feral yowl.


    Her two-handed blade pierced right through the defense. It was slow and steady at first, but it accelerated as she twisted her hips. Evidently, the man wasn¡¯t expecting his shield to be so easily destroyed. He was half a moment too slow in his retreat and lost the hand he was using to maintain the spell.


    The paladin grit his teeth and placed his remaining paw on the stump. With a pulse of magic, he immediately saw the missing limb restored. The same holy light spread throughout the room and healed the few that still clung to life, while another, bluer aura bestowed upon them the vigour they needed to stand.


    More troops poured in through the open door before the cat had a chance to re-engage. The reinforcements consisted primarily of erdbrechers and penguins, with the latter group dressed from head to toe in traditional military attire.


    Ignoring the fresh blood, Natalya shifted her focus to the erdbrechers that had lived through her prior attack. She snaked her way through the room and appeared in front of each to deliver a back-breaking blow. Their freshly healed bodies were torn apart, destroyed again with greater accuracy and power. The priest immediately set to fixing them, but alas, there was little he could do with the damage so heavy.


    She dashed right up to the katar girl so she could repeat the execution, but she was more powerful than her next of kin. With the buffs increasing her speed, she was barely able to avoid the attack and retreat back into the crowd. To the enraged cat, her fate was hardly of notice, but Lia chased her nonetheless, lashing out at everyone and anyone that crossed her path. Technically, the attacks were slashes, and slashes performed with masterful finesse, but the sheer violence that accompanied her strikes completely changed their nature. Everyone that she touched was effectively turned to goop.


    One full second was all she needed to trim the crowd and shred the three dozen reinforcements; the cat was only half a step away from claiming the tiny erdbrecher¡¯s life when the paladin inserted himself between them and deflected her blade with his fist.


    His other hand, he drove towards her face, the barrier transformed into a wall of serrated blades. Her nose was only half a centimeter away when she twisted her head out of its path and retaliated with a long, swiping slash. The rapier between her lips whistled through the air, an attack backed by the full, rotational force of her hips.


    The grug threw up his guard right away. But it was precisely because he reacted so quickly that he failed to defend. Dysfunctional as ever, Lia¡¯s rapier whipped through the air only after a brief delay. The supple metal wrapped around his arm like a piece of rubber, looping around and tearing a hole in his unprotected flank.


    It would have pierced his heart in the same swift motion, had he failed to retreat. The blade erupted from the front of his body instead, splitting his ribcage and spilling its contents.


    She stepped forward as he stumbled back. Her longsword was raised over her shoulder in preparation to deliver the final blow. But it was only as she committed to the attack that her broken mind noticed the smirk on his giant, froggy lips.


    He raised his hand, which had only two of its digits extended, and dyed everything around them in a bright yellow light. Like how Arciel could pray to the moon and sear her foes with Griselda¡¯s beams, the anuran could pray to his lord and entreat him for judgement.


    For the seaside people that worshipped Krebb, the god of cylinders, every such instance manifested in the form of a rounded piston. The catgirl was fully paralyzed, frozen in place as the ground beneath her feet flattened into a perfect circle. A second, equally perfect cylinder appeared directly above and slowly descended from the sky. It was only as the cylinder touched her that she was given control over her body again. She pushed against it with all the strength her enrage had bestowed, but it refused to slow, let alone stop. The catgirl kicked off the ground when she realised her mistake, but she couldn¡¯t fully escape the trap. One of her legs was caught, completely crushed beneath the celestial weight.


    Though maimed, she sprang forward with her gait off balance and unsteady. It was a haphazard assault led by a predictable, horizontal sweep. Having fully read it, thanks to her broken stance, the paladin drove his empowered fist straight into the feral beast¡¯s fingers, shattering them to bits before her weapon could reach his gut. He sidestepped the rapier slash that followed and prepared a more powerful counter imbued with the might of his god, only to find the heavier weapon still travelling toward him.


    Klaunn grit his teeth as he realised that he had been tricked. There was already a blob of flesh growing to replace her leg. It was a mess of raw sinews and bits of broken bone, filled with leaky veins and half-formed tissue. Had her rage not dulled her pain, she surely would have screamed and howled as her exposed nerves were rubbed against the sand. Because she had driven the bloody stump into the ground and used it as a pivot.


    The attack had never been a horizontal sweep, but a spinning slash. And when he pulverised her right hand, she had only continued by catching the weapon with her left.


    The paladin was able to expand his blessed aura by clenching his stomach and digging his heels into the sand. But while it had blocked her attacks before, the barrier shattered as it was introduced to her greatsword again.


    And it was then that a second realisation struck.


    He could tell from the way her sclera had blackened.


    She was a dark knight. And she had empowered her next blow.


    Panic set in as he worked as quickly as he could. He straightened just two of his fingers and uttered a prayer at lightning speed. Knowing that his lost lamb was in danger, the deity obliged immediately and formed a defensive shell around his body.


    There was a loud crack when the catgirl¡¯s attack landed. But not because the barrier was broken. Her longsword was shattered instead; being made of mere steel, it had been unable to handle the brute strength that backed her swings. Klaunn breathed a grateful sigh and began to thank his Lord, but the pious act was cut short by the feline¡¯s second blade. Her rapier spun to life, its blade becoming something of a blur as she drove it towards him and cut right through his godsent shield.


    The warrior ducked under the blow just in time to avoid it, and with two fingers extended, summoned a second cylindrical press with the few points of faith that he had left to spare. The prismatic tool froze the catgirl and descended from the sky. It caught her in its jaws, but she ripped through it just as easily as she had penetrated his barrier.


    Planting her good foot on the ground, she twirled to bolster her momentum. And delivered the final blow straight across his neck.

 Chapter 258 - Bottom of the Sky IV

    Chapter 258 - Bottom of the Sky IV


    Claire silenced a yawn as she crossed her legs and leaned forward in her invisible seat, her wings drooping in the air behind her and a bloody but equally bored Boris curled up in her lap. One of her hands held her chin while the other choked a dying lizardman with an awfully crocodilian face. His limbs were still intact, for the most part, but he lacked the strength to flail or break free. He was barely conscious. The light was fading from his eyes as quickly as the blood was pouring from the holes in his gut. He was desperate, his mind filled with rage and regret. But he was helpless. There wasn''t a speck of strength left in his frame and his allies were already involved in losing battles of their own.


    "There''s nothing for me to do."


    The horizontally gifted moose muttered to no one in particular as she watched the cat mow through the crowd.


    "I''d say that''s a good thing," said the mantis floating beside her. His mount cwooned as well, as if to express her agreement.


    "And you''d be wrong." She snapped the lizardman''s neck with another light squeeze and threw his lifeless corpse into the water. Their duel had not been nearly as exciting as Natalya''s. From start to finish, it had hardly spanned half a minute.


    It was not so much a difference in strength that drove the results, but rather a reluctance to use it. The cat was being cautious as ever, drawing out only enough power to best whatever foe she faced. Claire, on the other hand, hadn¡¯t shown the slightest bit of restraint. She spent a hundred thousand points of mana to paralyze the crocodile before grabbing him by the throat and stabbing him until his body gave out. Essencethief was active all the while, but she was unable to recoup her investment. As a pure warrior, he had only a few drops of magic at his disposal and all of them had been drained in the first few seconds of contact.


    "You could always check on the princess," suggested the knight, "and perhaps lend a hand as well, while you''re at it?"


    "If you want to help her so badly, do it yourself."


    "She''d strangle me," said Matthias. The mantis chuckled as he watched the ripple in the pool beneath them. "Thanks to whatever silly idea you put in her head."


    "I don''t know what you''re talking about." Shrugging off his unhappy glare, the lyrkress drifted out the way she came. It was a calm, gradual ascent, completely unsuited to the battlefield that the castle had become.


    She was an obvious white splotch in the darkness, but her escape did not disturb the enemy troops. They were too busy with the catgirl to give her anything more than a passing glance. Marcelle and Matthias were ignored as well, even as the trio ventured out into the clear night sky. It was the dungeon''s fault. The storm winds had stolen all the nearby mist and smog when it passed through the area and deleted it upon its demise. The moon was glimmering, shining down on the seaside city with its ever-brilliant light.


    It was often said that the moon could predict the tides, with some of her more fervent worshippers claiming that she was powerful enough to see the future as well. The goddess herself neither confirmed nor denied the claims, but whatever the case, it was clear that she was not entirely devoid of insight. Her usual soft smile was twisted into a confident grin.


    The duel between the squid and the leech had yet to begin. They were still standing their ground, expressing their contempt and squabbling over some detail or other. Having no interest in the discussion, Claire turned her eyes downwards and scrutinized the chaotic mess below.


    It was hard to describe it as a battlefield. She could barely tell where one army ended and the other began. It was a problem that resulted in part from the identical banners; both parties proudly flew the royal, Vel¡¯khanese standard. The much smaller flags with the noble crests were the only distinguishing factors, and while Claire recognized them, after seeing them briefly in the squid¡¯s documents, she found that they were often difficult to distinguish at a glance. Too many took pieces from the others, and to further worsen the confusion, many families had members on both sides of the conflict. It was only the outsiders, like the pirates, the erdbrechers, and the Cadrians that could easily be picked out.


    Pollux¡¯s troops, for one, drew attention like beacons of light. Their strategy was based almost entirely around the warship. The carrier was moving around the castle¡¯s grounds, depositing troops to reinforce wherever they were needed. Its cannons were roaring as well, raining hell down the enemy lines with physical and magical projectiles in kind.


    As it so happened, the queen¡¯s men weren¡¯t exactly fond of the battleship. They bombarded it with spells of their own, but they were unable to get through its barrier. The defensive mechanism held strong, for it was a newer model of the device installed in the Vel¡¯khanese castle, backed with a few hundred years of ingenuity and iteration.


    Case in point, it had no need for a battery. It was supported instead by a built-in generator no different from the engine that drove the ship¡¯s flight. Several older models had connected the two circuits and used the very same power source to fuel both capabilities, but the practice had been phased out over time. By modern standards, two engines were the norm, such that the shield could be kept completely independent from the remaining functions.


    It was a decision that had resulted not from theory, but practice. When the two were combined, the captains had often ordered their artificers to override the system¡¯s limiters to fully empower a specific function, and it was only in rare circumstances that such an event did not lead to catastrophic failure¡ªthe amount of power required to stay afloat varied with the extent of the ship¡¯s damage, and it was difficult if not impossible for the associated values to be calculated in real time. Even in the rare case that the ship did survive, its internals were sure to be completely fried. The cost of ripping everything out and installing a brand new magic circuit was far greater than building a new ship from scratch, but the captains always insisted, stating that they could not simply abandon a vessel with which they shared such a dastardly experience.


    Thus, in the interest of preserving their own lives, the artificers divorced the two systems. The split raised the initial cost but came with the benefit of improving the ships¡¯ longevity. It was far easier to maintain the circuits and generators if they could be fully shut off, and each enabled precisely that of the other.


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    But even with the carrier drawing so much of the enemy fire, Arciel¡¯s men struggled to press forward. To everyone¡¯s surprise, it was not the erdbrechers keeping them at bay. The mercenaries had certainly cost the queen a pretty penny¡ªthe national treasury was missing something in the realm of fifteen thousand gold coins¡ªbut there had only ever been roughly a thousand of them to begin with. And given everything that the lyrkress¡¯ party had done over the past months, she would have been quite surprised if she found there to be more than half their number remaining.


    The group that caused the most trouble was one made entirely of natives. It was a unit of elves with no particular banner, marching across the battlefield shrouded in a veil of vines. The emerald green structure was a mobile fortress. It repelled any attacks that came their way while its occupants launched their own spells from the inside out. Though the greenery used in the bunker¡¯s construction was by no means special, it easily resisted the flaming arrows that pelted it, refusing to catch fire regardless of the amount of oil or gunpowder employed. It was a telltale sign of a high elf¡¯s presence; they were the only ones that could simply order plants not to burn and see their commands obeyed.


    Made practically immortal by their shield, the elves were free to focus on devastating magical attacks. They only opened holes in their defenses when they were ready to unleash their carefully crafted spells.


    ¡°Calm down.¡± Claire spoke the words to the mantis, who reacted with a start. ¡°Don¡¯t forget. We¡¯re standing by.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± he said, with a sour clack. ¡°But you can at least let me imagine what it¡¯d be like to fight them, can¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°No. You¡¯d be too inclined to follow through.¡±


    ¡°In my defence, it¡¯s not like there¡¯s anything for us to do.¡± He pointed towards the sky, where a trio of erdbrechers was in the middle of climbing towards the princess.


    The elephant people were flying by flapping their ears, which though fleshy and muscular, were obviously too small to carry their weight. Though the flapping certainly contributed, it was not only through the application of physics that the desert people flew. They used magic to supplement their weakness, lifting themselves further off the ground by manipulating the winds. Matthias¡¯ assignment was to intercept them; he was the final line of defense responsible for ensuring the duel¡¯s integrity. But with a certain flaming bird flying right at them, he may as well have been completely out of a job. Her talismans swallowed everything that dared approach, scorching and burning and burning and scorching until not even ash remained.


    ¡°Then maybe we do fight the elves,¡± muttered Claire. ¡°It¡¯s better than being a waste of space.¡±


    ¡°Y¡¯know what? Fuck it!¡± he shouted, as his mount dove towards the ground. ¡°Just remember! If anyone asks, it was your idea!¡±


    The mounted soldier was not the only one to have identified the knife-eared problem, nor the only one headed in the elves¡¯ direction. He met up with three allies along the way, one the peculiar maid that served as the admiral¡¯s personal guard, and the other two centaurs galloping across the sky.


    It was not with any difficulty or inconvenience that their paths converged. All three groups had identified the bunker¡¯s weakness; the elves were skilled at repelling foes that approached their fortress head-on, but they never checked the space directly above them.


    ¡°Got any plans?¡± he asked, as he joined the group.


    ¡°Hit ¡®em hard and fast,¡± said Fausta. ¡°I¡¯ll try and break through the shield. If we can¡¯t wipe ¡®em all out right away, we fall back on the kid. He¡¯s got a trick for times like these.¡±


    ¡°I will be remaining on standby,¡± said the maid. ¡°To ensure that they are captured.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll join the initial assault. I bet I can break through.¡± The mantis brandished his scythes with a clack of the jaws. He was confident in his power, especially following his recent ascension, but the tiny centaur dismissed the offer with a grin.


    ¡°Sorry mate, but I¡¯ve already called dibs.¡±


    She leapt off the magical platform underfoot before he could protest the decision and accelerated towards the ground with her disproportionate shieldlance at the ready. The weapon began to glow; its circuits lit up with bright red streaks of mana as she descended upon the pillbox like a speeding boulder. There was a massive, crimson flash, bright enough to light up the sky as the pure arcane energy was rammed into the reinforced shell.


    The plants almost seemed to flinch, to recoil in pain as the vines nearest the point of impact shied away from the blast. That was when the mantis acted. Mount and all, he dove into the bunker and slashed at the men inside. They blocked his scythes with their blades and retaliated in kind, holding their own even as the pony joined the fray.


    He could feel his mandibles clacking uncontrollably as joy washed over every fibre of his being. All seven of the men in the bunker were high elves, royal allies whose presence had not been made known. He would not be able to defeat them easily¡ªit would take luck to emerge from the engagement alive. His adrenaline rush only intensified as the vines closed over his head and sealed them in again. He traded blows, over and over, losing blood and guts and guts and blood as his two hearts beat in tandem. But then it all came to an end, as he heard the ringing of bells.


    The elves collapsed when the centaur¡¯s song filtered through their ears. Their hands grasped their chests, and their mouths leaked foam. Their breaths were short and rapid, but the air almost seemed to refuse to enter their bodies. The tips of their fingers turned pale then blue as they fell onto their knees and then their faces.


    Matthias begrudgingly moved to execute them, thanks to a habit developed at a certain bizarre chimera¡¯s insistence, but the maid, who he had almost forgotten, appeared in front of him and grabbed him by the wrist, stopping his scythe midswing.


    ¡°Wait,¡± she said. ¡°Don¡¯t kill them. They¡¯re not the queen¡¯s men.¡±


    The chimera in question, watching from the sky above, flicked her tongue through the air with an annoyed hiss. She was tempted to chuck a few icy spears into the ring and finish them off herself, but she stopped short when she heard her name called.


    ¡°Claire? Hellloooooooo? Are you in there?¡±


    A phantom projection appeared in the space in front of her. It was still faintly orange, like its progenitor, but the fur was mostly see-through.


    ¡°Claire! Come on! Say something! I don¡¯t actually know if this works!¡±


    The lyrkress reached for the ghost¡¯s cheeks and tried to pinch them, but found her fingers lonely and disappointed.


    ¡°Claire!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± she grumbled.


    ¡°I think you¡¯re gonna wanna fly over. There¡¯s a bunch of those erdawhatever guys itching for a fight, and there¡¯s too many of them for Melly to handle alone.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    With a flap of the wings, the lyrkress detached herself from her chair and prepared to harvest another batch of fools.

 Chapter 259 - Bottom of the Sky V

    Chapter 259 - Bottom of the Sky V


    Emelia Braun, leader of the aptly named Braun Mercenary Company, twisted her trunk as she looked up into the sky. The wrinkles in her brow grew when she narrowed her eyes to focus, furthering the old, wisened impression that the matriarch worked so hard to effuse. She was barely two hundred and fifty years of age, far too young to lead a clan by the usual standards.


    Most tribes only accepted matriarchs no longer capable of bearing children, and though Emelia had done her part and spent over a hundred years birthing fresh blood, she was still another two millennia short of losing the function. That was why she often behaved older than she was; whenever she had to meet with an official, she would hunch her back, change her voice, and keep her face as wrinkled as could be. It was an act that worked best among those unfamiliar with her race, but she had tricked many an erdbrecher as well.


    She very much would have preferred to join the others her age and dedicate her days to the holy duty of procreation, but she was given no such opportunity. Her mother had committed honourable suicide to take responsibility for a failed mission, and as her sole surviving heiress, Emelia had been forced to take up her mantle at an early age. It was a fate that she knew she would have to avoid, should she not wish the same hardships upon her own successors. And it was precisely to grow and nurture those successors that she had been so unwilling to send them out into the field.


    Most of the men she deployed were throwaway soldiers, bulls that had recently joined her troupe after experiencing their first nocturnal emissions and subsequently finding themselves expelled from their clans. The newest batch was still incredibly young, with their oldest members in their late thirties at most. One of her closest advisors even derided the young boys¡¯ suitors as calf molesters and demanded that they cease their open advances immediately. But they did not. Females in their mid one hundreds often found it too difficult to control their instincts, and the lack of older bulls only made it harder for them to be restrained with fresh meat right before their trunks.


    While it was certainly a nightmare in need of a resolution, and one that stemmed from her own incompetence at that, Emelia set the thought aside and flapped her ears again.


    Their client was near the very limits of their flight range. Erdbrechers did often travel through the air, but fundamentally, they were not built for true flight. Few had difficulty maintaining their heights, once they managed to achieve them, but the average noncombatant could only get a few meters off the ground at most, with most of the aforementioned height granted by an initial leap. Climbing with one¡¯s ears required strict and specific training targeting the muscles in the sides of their heads, as well as mastery of precise magic control. The upper bound seemed absurd and useless when exploring the jungles and mountains, but in their native desert range, it was hardly a limitation at all. They would only ever need a few extra meters to navigate from the top of one dune to the top of the next. Those that failed to make the flight would simply walk up the sandy hills instead.


    Alas, their destination was not one that could be reached on their feet alone. Emelia¡¯s ears were sour, exhausted by the long climb. It didn¡¯t help that she wore a full suit of armour. The thick metal protectors more than doubled her weight, and thus the burden on her muscles as well. Her helmet was especially egregious, and frankly she found it difficult to push forward, but she continued to press on, driven first and foremost by a sense of duty.


    The matriarch blamed herself for her client¡¯s circumstances. They had been together when she was first teleported, and while the erdbrecher had noticed the magic, the caster had completed the spell before she had the chance to react. Taking its complexity into account, it had been crafted at an ungodly speed, but Emelia knew better than to blame the catastrophic failure on the efficiency of the enemies¡¯ tools. She was at fault, and she could not allow herself to live with the dishonour.


    That was why she had deployed all of her elite forces. Twelve at a time, they took to the skies with their weapons and armour at the ready. It was an unconventional task, outside their realm of expertise, but each team was led by a veteran with at least five hundred levels under her belt.


    Mobilising her most powerful tools was more difficult than could have been reasonably assumed. Many of the teams were led by females far older and wiser than herself. Their personal power was within the realm of comparison, and many thought themselves more deserving of the matriarch title. And they likely would have openly declared as such, had they been her mother¡¯s daughters.


    It was only because she had grovelled at their feet that they were willing to lend her their ears, a humiliating outcome to say the least, but Emelia had gone through with her daughter as witness. Her pride was a small price to pay if it meant acquiring the forces she required to make up for her shortcomings.


    All seemed well until the night was lit with a streak of fire. It was a heavenly white flame, bright as a star drifting its way across the sky. The first group to ascend was immediately flung from the firmament. She doubted that anyone was dead, but the attack had no doubt singed their ears and damaged their already fragile flight capabilities.


    Looking beyond the flames revealed a peculiar bird with a rounded beak. She recalled seeing and hunting creatures with similar frames during the migratory season, but none shared the identifying coral-pink plumes that adorned the firespitter¡¯s body, just as how they lacked the thick tentacles that lashed out from beneath her feathers.


    There were five pulses of magic as the darkness returned to the night, one for each of the elite squads dispatched. A creature resembling a fennec appeared right in front following the pulse nearest their location. She could tell at a glance that it was just a magical blob and not the real deal, but that was precisely why her blood ran cold. The projection possessed more mana than the entire Braun Company combined. And if the pulses were anything to go by, its creator could churn them out en masse with little to no preparation.


    ¡°So uhmm¡­ hi!¡± The fennec spoke with a damning giggle. Emelia wanted nothing more than to turn tail and run; there was no telling what the horrific demon would do if it took delight in their suffering. ¡°Er, uhm¡­ I mean¡­ Stop right there! You¡¯re not allowed to go any further!¡±


    Hesitant to risk angering the hellspawn, Emelia ground to a halt and raised her trunk to order the men and women behind her to do the same. Not everyone seemed to understand the danger; some of the men in particular, who were less magically attuned by nature, were particularly confused, but they all obeyed her orders. Her personal squad was one of the few that respected her authority.


    ¡°Why not?¡± she asked. The erdbrecher twisted the tip of her trunk in hopes that the demon could be reasoned with. She knew that it was unlikely, but she had heard many tales of such entertaining mortal requests and sometimes even cutting good deals.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Mmmnnnnn¡­ because I said so?¡± said the fox. ¡°One of my friends is doing something really important right now and you¡¯re not allowed to butt in.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± The matriarch felt the urge to tie her nose into a knot and give it a tug; the circumstances were even worse than she had imagined. If the enemies had befriended the demon, as opposed to merely contracting it, then it was unlikely that they would be able to circumvent its security. ¡°Then I challenge you to single combat.¡±


    ¡°M-mot¡ªBoss!?¡± Alya opened her eyes wide and grabbed her by the shoulder, but the older erdbrecher shook her head and brushed the noodly nose aside.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how long I can stall it,¡± said Emelia, in a whisper. ¡°But when I do, go.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t possibly aband¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just go.¡±


    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± The projection scrunched up its face. ¡°Well uhmmm¡­ first of all, I really don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea. I¡¯m just gonna eat you if you try anything, even if you don¡¯t look like you¡¯d taste very good. Oh, and I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll last long enough for anyone else to slip past.¡±


    Every word sent a shudder through Emelia¡¯s spine. She could tell from its nonchalance how little it valued their lives, and from its childish giggling that it felt nothing but confidence in its own abilities. If she wanted to eke out a victory, she would need to strike hard and fast, to identify one of its weaknesses and hit it with everything she had all at once before it could raise its guard. And most importantly, she needed to hit something that wasn¡¯t a projection.


    ¡°I know. But I would like to request single combat regardless.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnnn¡­ Iunno.¡± Alas, the fennec did not seem inclined to indulge her. ¡°So uhmmm¡­ I guess I¡¯ll just eat all of yo¡ªoh wait a second! I¡¯ve got an idea!¡± It clapped its paws together, once, twice, thrice. It was rhythmic, with three quick taps following each slower pair. Her voice was thrown into after a brief delay, used to craft a beautiful, soothing melody filled with long, high-pitched notes.


    Emelia reached for one of the spears off her back when she realised that it was a spell, but her body refused to move until the demon¡¯s song was complete.


    The spell formed an arena made of clouds. Her squad was situated on one side of the ring, standing atop a layer of imaginary dirt. The other twelve-member teams were seated in the audience, confused and on guard, but unable to act. Their bodies were bound with magical chains, held in place by the dream demon¡¯s song.


    ¡°I¡¯ll think about letting you sneak past if you help one of my other friends.¡± The fox giggled as a cloaked figure with a set of large blue wings descended upon the arena. ¡°She¡¯s been stuck in a bit of a rut lately ¡®cause she¡¯s a really big dummy, so you¡¯re gonna have to play with her until she figures stuff out.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not stuck in a rut,¡± said the new arrival. She had a soft voice, calming and gentle, but somehow cold.


    Emelia couldn¡¯t discern her species at a glance. Her face was invisible beneath her hood; the only part of her head that could be seen were the large ears jutting out from the equally large slits cut into the sides of the fabric. Their shape was knife-like, but not elven. They were far too long for that, and only their bottom halves were bevelled. She had a tail covered in a set of silvery scales, but its precise shape was unfamiliar; it was too thin to belong to a lizardman, and the tip was adorned with an awfully fluffy tuft of hair.


    The matriarch narrowed her eyes in an attempt to scrutinize the demon¡¯s friend in more detail, but she wasn¡¯t given the opportunity. It dashed across the arena without another word and drew the weapon mounted to her back. Emelia had assumed it to be some sort of misshapen club or greatsword at first, given its girth, but its shape changed when it was drawn. Its body thinned as its mass was redistributed to its tip, which warped and grew, until it was turned into a massive scythe.


    ¡°Oh uhm¡­ I forgot to mention, she¡¯s gonna be trying to kill you guys for real, so good luck!¡±


    The matriarch drew her quarterstaff and raised it overhead. She was ready to launch herself off the ground the moment she blocked the attack so she could sweep the assailant¡¯s weapon aside. She waited and waited and waited some more, but the moment of impact never came. When she finally heard a thud and spun her staff, she found that it touched nothing but air. The enemy¡¯s scythe had extended midswing and reached for one of the men standing behind her.


    Its target, however, was unscathed. The blade was caught by one of the golden trinkets wrapped around his body and easily repelled. Such was the bull¡¯s standard defense. It looked effortless at a glance, especially with the military advisor keeping his arms crossed, but Emelia knew that it was anything but. The protection produced such heavy mental strain that the gold mage was unable to cast any other spells while it was active.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he said, with a casual wave. ¡°I had a feeling I¡¯d be seeing you here.¡±


    ¡°Shut up. Don¡¯t talk to me,¡± said the attacker.


    ¡°Do you know her, Gunther?¡± The matriarch spoke in a hushed whisper, but she doubted that the words had gone unnoticed. The strange lizard¡¯s ears twitched when she moved her lips, and she even did the courtesy of withdrawing her weapon and backing off.


    ¡°She¡¯s the one I was telling you about the other day. Still a prime candidate, if you¡¯re willing to overlook the species bit.¡±


    ¡°I am still¡­ hesitant.¡± There were other tribes that allowed outsiders into their ranks, but they were generally lower in the hierarchy. For the Braun Company to make such a choice would only give the other prestigious clans more reasons to criticize.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± The bull grabbed one of the golden pieces out of the air with his trunk and used it to scratch the back of his head. ¡°Alright, well how about this. I¡¯ll have a go at her, and you can see what she¡¯s got. Worth a few dozen soldiers at least.¡±


    Emelia quickly eyed the troops standing behind her, and after noting that there were only two concerned with the proposal, answered the man with a nod. ¡°If you are confident.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be easy,¡± he said with a grin. ¡°I¡¯ve already cornered her once, and it¡¯s not been long since. What could possibly go wro¡ª¡±


    The sentence was suddenly cut off, turned into a confused trumpet as his body slid across the fake dirt, pulled towards her at a thousand miles an hour. The girl¡¯s weapon transformed again when the distance between them vanished, turning from a scythe into what almost looked like an iguana. She stepped forward, sidestepped his trunk, and delivered the strange club straight into the side of his head.


    There was a resounding gong as the man was sent flying across the arena. He crashed straight into one of its outer walls, which was evidently much harder than its cloud-like appearance suggested, his eyes spinning and a stream of blood leaking out the side of his head. He stumbled a few steps forward when he peeled off the wall before collapsing face-first in the dirt.


    "I told you to shut up."


    The cloaked figure transformed her weapon again as she raised it, turning it into a bow with a crystalline arrow nocked against its string and the mercenaries well within its sights.


    With a loud, ear-splitting trumpet, Emelia reluctantly gave the order to attack. There was no telling what the dream demon would do if her so-called friend was slain, but something had to be done. They couldn''t simply stand by and allow themselves to be killed.

 Chapter 260 - Bottom of the Sky VI

    Chapter 260 - Bottom of the Sky VI


    A disgruntled Claire flicked her tongue through the air as she watched the erdbrechers take up their positions around her. There were eleven of them in all, twelve counting the groaning bull slowly pushing himself off the ground. His steps were still unsteady, but when their eyes met, he grinned, a broad, toothy smile that left her fist as itchy as a rash.


    It was precisely his obnoxious, taunting smile that drove her arrow¡¯s course. Targeting any of the others would have been far more efficient, but she was happy to aim it right between his eyes. The icy projectile grew with every meter traveled, swelling from a tiny twig of a bolt to a galleon-sized blade. It exploded when it reached its target. The surrounding air crackled as it was flash-frozen, turned in an instant from gas to glacier.


    Another three such arrows were unleashed as soon as the first slowly manifested its remaining effects. The erdbrechers en route scurried out of the way, only to find themselves victims of the lyrkress¡¯ trickery. None of the second wave¡¯s projectiles exploded, nor did they even find their marks. The icy blades disintegrated upon reaching a certain size, melting away as the magic within them ran dry.


    The mercenaries to her rear fired back, but the invisible pony on her shoulder opened its mouth to meet their arrows and spells. The projectiles were sucked straight into its gut and consigned to the void. A quiet murmur spread through the enemy lines following the inexplicable phenomenon. Claire took the opportunity to plant her feet into the ground and fill her lungs, but an elephant clad in fishnets and purple cloth attacked her before she could unleash her breath.


    She led with a flying kick, transitioning into the attack from a distance of roughly fifteen meters. It was telegraphed; her trajectory was straight as a line, but the lyrkress barely raised her guard in time. Alya suddenly accelerated during the last leg of her journey, quintupling her speed in the blink of an eye. Her next attack was subject to the same phenomenon. The windup was slow and obvious¡ªshe was transitioning from a landing into an uppercut¡ªbut she broke the sound barrier at an arbitrary point during the transition. Again, Claire barely evaded the erdbrecher¡¯s body. And she completely failed to dodge the accompanying blades.


    The metal device around the desert-dweller¡¯s wrists whirred to life as she struck. It was a crude metal contraption, activated through the pull of a wire to deliver a trio of needles into her hands mid-swing. Two of the miniature blades glanced off the lyrkress¡¯ cheeks, her scales repelling them with a ting, but the last left a cut across her face, a deep gash between the silvery plates of natural armour.


    Claire stumbled half a step backwards before retaliating with her tail. She laced it with a medley of poisons and whipped it across her opponent¡¯s body. It drew only a few drops of blood, but the effects were immediately apparent. The elephant was in the middle of her next swing, a heavy uppercut with her needles extruded when she was interrupted by a violent sneeze. A stream of parachutes erupted from her trunk, stalling her just long enough to meet the edge of a sword.


    Boris cut across her chest, effortlessly gliding through her unarmoured frame. Claire twisted the blade as it ate Ayla¡¯s flesh, but again, she was denied a log entry. The needle-wielder minimized the damage by moving with the sword and propelling herself back toward the mercenary line.


    Claire unleashed her breath to chase, but Gunther inserted himself between them. He held his arms in front of him with all his trinkets spinning. The living shield grit his teeth and cycled his gold to disperse the spell, as he had on the previous encounter, but she gathered it with her vectors each time he blew it away.


    His accessories froze a few seconds after the cast, with his arms following suit soon after. Everything above his elbows cracked apart and turned to dust, vanishing into the night. Claire charged at him with Boris drawn, his form akin to that of a dagger. One of his allies threw up a golden barrier, but the lyrkress was undeterred. She vaulted over the shield and flipped through the air as she assumed her true form.


    She opened three dozen sets of eyes and immediately identified the healer in their ranks. He was dressed like most of the others, covered in full plate with a spiked mace in his hands. But while his form was easily overlooked, his position was not. The man was kneeling, holding his weapon in front of his face whilst silently muttering some prayer or other.


    Vector magic was the first thing she tried. She extended a claw and pulled him towards it, but while not completely unaffected, the man slid at an agonizingly slow pace.


    The others in his vicinity were not as fortunate, however. A man with two blades was pulled straight into her other hand. He slashed at her scales, but she repelled his daggers with a flick of the claw and seized him between her talons. He was pinned to the ground and smooshed, his bones bent out of shape with a sickening crack.


    His allies tried to save him. Their ranged attackers launched spears and arrows, a second priest formed a barrier in her palm, and four elephant men charged her head-on. Futile attempts at salvation.


    The projectiles were eaten by her pony, the barrier was crushed with brute strength, and the four rushers were repelled with a sweep of the tail. The fishnetted girl suddenly appeared beside her face and drove a needle toward the longmoose¡¯s eye, but she opened another on the side of her head and froze the rogue with an empowered glare.


    She turned to the girl with her jaw wide open, but Gunther interfered again, tackling her out of the way with a primal roar.


    That was when the matriarch entered the ring.


    ¡°Stand down. Stay back unless I say otherwise.¡±


    She trumped another order as she stepped forward and brandished a long, blunt staff. It was only one of the many weapons she carried on her person. There were three spears strapped to her back, four swords mounted to her waist, and a seemingly endless number of daggers embedded into the various compartments scattered all over her armour. She may as well have been a bouquet of blades, a walking storm of metal adorned with a gemstone necklace. And somehow, a kindred spirit.


    ¡°I am Emelia Braunn, wartusk broodmother, and the matriarch that heads the Braunn clan and company.¡± She curled up her nose as she spoke and sucked it back into her face.


    Claire paused for a moment before taking her foot off the corpse and reverting to her humanoid form. She turned her cloak into a dress, specifically one suited for the battlefield, and greeted the warlord with a traditional curtsy.


    ¡°It is a pleasure to meet a mercenary of such repute,¡± said the qiligon. She wanted to grin, knowing she was about to steal Pollux¡¯s prey, but she kept her face blank. ¡°I am Claire, abyssal hoarfrost scalewarden and the heir of forgotten blood.¡± The fox¡¯s projection opened its mouth to complain when she listed her race, but Claire grabbed it by the maw and stole its mana before it could speak.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing you won¡¯t let us pass, no matter how nicely we ask?¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± She flashed the elephant a soft, gentle smile before lowering her stance and hiding Boris behind her back. ¡°Your client dies today. Whether Arciel succeeds or not.¡±


    She waited for the warrior to prepare before leaping into the air and turning draconic again. The lyrkress circled once before diving like an eagle, her talons extended and her wings folded inwards. The matriarch sidestepped her claws. She gave them a wide berth, retreating a full two meters, but the movement only exposed her to the follow-up. Claire spun around and extended her hooves to deliver a two-legged, horse-like kick.


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    Emelia raised her staff with both hands and warded off the attack with a parry. The full metal rod groaned, bent, and creaked when the feet made contact but snapped back to its usual shape as soon as the hooves were repelled. She drew a sword with her trunk and swiped at the qiligon¡¯s legs before she could regain her footing, but Claire evaded with a flap of the wings. Not relenting, she rose into the sky and repeated the airstrike again.


    Emelia was more confident in facing the second attack; she exercised less caution on her evasion and remained closer to the attack¡¯s source¡ªbut it was precisely in said confidence that the lyrkress had relied. Claire grabbed the mercenary¡¯s trunk with a vector and yanked it forward right as her claws impacted the dirt. Even with ten thousand points of magic, she could only get the matriarch to budge a few inches. Still, it was more than enough to throw her off balance.


    There were two splurts of blood, one when her talons dug into the elephant lady¡¯s flesh and another when the matriarch¡¯s sword was plunged into the side of her leg. The blade dug through her scales and ripped her flesh apart, stopping only at her indestructible bone.


    Claire turned lyrkrian as she called Boris into her hands and brought him down upon her foe. The dagger was driven straight toward the back of the elephant¡¯s head, but her hands were stopped before the blade pierced her skin. There was a trunk wrapped around her wrists, and she couldn¡¯t break free from its grip. It wasn¡¯t a matter of strength. Her joints were stuck, locked in place by the mercenary¡¯s nose.


    She was too close for Emelia to use her staff¡ªa fact of which the erdbrecher was well aware. She dropped it without a second thought and reached for two daggers placed all over her body. Claire barely managed to escape by paralyzing her with a glare. The magical glower loosened her grip just enough for the lyrkress to free her hands. She retaliated with a knee to the erdbrecher¡¯s gut, followed by a taloned kick that opened a distance between them.


    Claire patched herself up right away, closing her wounds with ice whilst raising a hand. She focused for a moment before grabbing the empty space in front of her and twisting it into the realm of eternal frost. She accidentally pulled a few audience members in with her target, but they were summarily ignored. Her sights remained set on her foe.


    The snow was already falling, draining the erdbrecher''s resources and restoring her own. But while it certainly affected the mercenary queen, the realm alone would never kill her. Like Gunther, Emelia had far too much vitality. Her mana was being drained at a rate of fifty thousand points a second; even with a seven-digit stat, Claire was sure to run out of magic before her target''s stamina was depleted.


    She moved as quickly as she could. Blending into the storm, she dashed behind the erdbrecher and delivered a heavy strike with her lizard axe. It was parried, swept aside by an elephant-sized spear. The warlord twisted her wrists and raised the butt of her weapon, transforming the block into a counter, but Claire closed the distance and smashed a spiked gauntlet into her chest before she could strike back. There was a loud crash as the bladed lizard met the breastplate, followed by a groan. The warrior furrowed her brow as she regained her footing, but another blunt strike, delivered with a heavy club, deformed her helmet and smashed it into her jaw.


    Claire grabbed the warlord''s metal protector with a vector and yanked it off her face. The older fighter¡¯s mouth was ripped open. A long gash started at the corner of her lips and extended to the back of her neck. Her armour was dismantled as well. Not all its pieces obeyed the lyrkress¡¯ commands, but those that did were thrown to the winds. When recognised as separate entities by the realm, they were swallowed and destroyed.


    She turned Boris into a glaive and began a furious assault. Having grown faster with her gear removed, the erdbrecher avoided most of the attacks. But in the realm, her defense was not so easily sustained. It continued to sap her stats, bestowing them to the lyrkress, who became more fierce and rabid with every sweep and stab. Her attacks shared the snowflakes'' effects. Every block and parry cost the warrior a fistful of numbers. By the fiftieth, her strikes were powerful enough to completely displace the erdbrecher¡¯s weapons and expose obvious gaps in her defense. She constantly changed Boris¡¯ shape and nulled her momentum to further break through her foe¡¯s guard, but still, none of her follow-ups ever seemed to land. There was always a dagger, a sword, or a spear ready to intercept. The only attacks that touched the erdbrecher¡¯s body were too light to note.


    With half the time still remaining on the clock, Claire dismissed the snowscape and flapped her wings. But her escape was cut short by a thick, muscular trunk. It grabbed her by the ankle, peeling the flesh right off her bones as the matriarch''s strength returned. She lashed out with her other talon, but a pair of swords were jabbed straight through her scales.


    The warrior¡¯s muscles bulged as she locked the blades in place and pulled, ripping through the lyrkress¡¯ tendons as she returned to the sky.


    Both claws were immediately fixed with patches of ice. She grew out her bones to replace the flesh torn off one and glued the other before it could be severed. The frost did nothing to numb the pain¡ªthe burning sensation in her legs continued to bite at the back of her head with all the fervour of a holy duck¡ªbut she clenched her fists and endured the agony as she unleashed a breath.


    Emelia retreated out of the spell¡¯s path and spun a spear in front of her to dispel it. Though her necklace gleamed through the mist, she lost her weapon and a few of her fingers as well. But Claire was still annoyed. She had just invested all her points, but it still felt like she was at an impasse. The problem wasn¡¯t brute force anymore. She had more raw strength than the matriarch, who she had deemed a pure warrior, but her speed and technique were still lacking. She had to begrudgingly admit that the gap was too wide for even the realm to secure a win.


    Still, she engaged again. She dove toward the elephant with an axe in hand and delivered a heavy overhead swing. A paralyzing gaze kept the matriarch from sidestepping it, and a vector yanked her foot and threw her off balance. She raised the sword in her trunk to meet the massive cleaver, but she couldn¡¯t hold it back with her prehensile nose alone. Her arms were added to the equation, holding additional blades to reinforce. With the extra limbs, she pushed Claire back.


    That was when the lyrkress put her plan into action. Paralyzing the elephant again, she thrust her tail towards her neck and seized her glowing amulet. She ripped the brooch away and threw it into the sea, where it vanished with a distant splash.


    The following vector she crafted flung the matriarch against the arena and threw her into one of its walls. It was followed by another that lifted her into the air and a third that seized her trunk.


    Claire grabbed and pulled, yanking the limb with all her strength, but she couldn¡¯t remove it. Even without her magic resistance bolstered, Emelia was too durable to be ripped apart. The qiligon squeezed her throat to break her spine, but the warlord¡¯s neck was too thick. Her powerful muscles pushed back against the spells, refusing to be bent too far out of shape.


    As much as it frustrated her to know that her magic was still lacking, the lyrkress didn¡¯t complain. It had already enabled the coup de grace.


    She kept the elephant locked where she was as she approached with a halberd in hand.


    But a sharp pain spread from her chest when she raised it overhead.


    Another one of the erdbrechers had silently landed on her back and jabbed a series of sharp needles straight into her spine. Her bones had suffered no injuries; they had easily deflected the blows, but that only meant that the weapons had been lodged further inside her flesh. She could feel the deepest one against her heart, prodding it whenever it beat.


    Claire bucked the passenger off her back and assumed her tiny, child-like form. A hand made of true ice grew out of her back and removed the needles, while another wrapped its fingers around her slim frame and transformed into a thick layer of armour. She turned back towards the matriarch once the bodysuit was complete, only to find that she had accidentally released her. Emelia was already barreling across the ring with a sword and two spears equipped.


    There was enough time for the lyrkress to evade, but she didn¡¯t bother. She stood stock still instead, watching idly as the blades made contact with and failed to pierce her icy veil. It was a perfect defense, but the shell slowed her, often taking a full second to respond to her commands.


    She already knew the source of its fault.


    It was excess.


    She had far more control over her divinity when she had only a few points in total. It had still been somewhat tenable when her pool grew to just over a hundred, but with over six times that under her belt, she found its manipulation almost impossible. There simply wasn¡¯t enough Claire to regulate and control all of it at once. But it didn¡¯t matter. Her armour was unbreakable¡ªan extension of her skeleton grown directly from her spine.


    With its protection, she magically grabbed the matriarch and closed the distance again. The air around her froze as she raised her hands to the elephant¡¯s neck and closed her fingers around it. Even through the ice, she could feel the folds in the desert dweller¡¯s skin, the pulsing of her veins as she clamped them shut.


    Victory surely would have been hers.


    Had a royal hand not prevented the mercenary¡¯s demise.

 Chapter 261 - Bottom of the Sky VII

    Chapter 261 - Bottom of the Sky VII


    A small, confident smile crept its way onto Arciel¡¯s face as she cast her eyes across the horizon. From her position in the sky, she could see the capital city in all its glory. The dark alleyways, the pirate-infested wharves, the underwater drug trade. The beautiful beaches, the fine gardens, and the familiar napping hill. All of it was made clear beneath the light of the moon. The winter wasn¡¯t quite over. It would only be at midnight that the goddess of the frozen wilds released her grip on the world, but the clock was ticking, and the seasons were changing. The icy cap that covered the ocean was gone, the snow was no more, and the leafless trees were revived with buds anew. The perfect night to put her enemy in her place.


    Queen Priscilla wasn¡¯t as calm. Her tiny, hideous eyes were shaking, and her jaws were constantly in motion¡ªshe regarded her foe with a twinge of fear.


    ¡°It is a beautiful evening,¡± said the bloodkraken, ¡°a fine night for a usurper like you to breathe her last.¡± Seeing the elin so rattled only bettered the squid¡¯s mood. She tilted her hat forward to mask the top half of her face as an extended, sinister giggle escaped her lips.


    The eel furrowed her brow. She wore a trembling grimace at first, but she clenched her tail until her calm returned. ¡°Why did you kill the ministers?¡± With the bubble removed, her words were finally clear. She spoke the question in a low, raspy voice, twinged with hints of rage. ¡°There was no reason to involve them in this conflict.¡±


    ¡°No reason? No reason!?¡± The vampire squid scoffed. ¡°Have you no eyes? They were your loyalists, whore. It was under your orders that they worked, toiling away at your vision and your vision alone.¡±


    Priscilla gnashed her teeth together as her fins trembled. ¡°They were key to running this nation! Do you understand what you¡¯ve done, the amount of talent you¡¯ve thrown away!?¡±


    ¡°They were key to running this nation as you saw it, perhaps. I am fortunate enough not to share your ignorance.¡± The squid discarded her jacket, unfastened her tie, and unbuttoned the top of her shirt. Her ponytail billowed in the wind, its raven black locks fluttering as she turned her eyes away from the invisible moon and regarded her sworn enemy. There was an unbridled storm in her gaze, swelling with such bitter hatred that the leech quivered in her boots. ¡°They were not unaware of the horrors that take place in your dungeons. And yet, they continued to serve.¡±


    ¡°It is your people¡¯s fault for refusing to comply. Our demands were very reaso¡ª¡±


    ¡°Silence, wench! I will hear none of your excuses.¡± Arciel drew her wand and pointed between the elin¡¯s eyes, her breathing heavy and her knuckles white. The shadows responded immediately to her call. Giant, pitch-black tentacles erupted from their surroundings, springing from the air like worms from the ground.


    ¡°There is no purpose in this,¡± said Priscilla. ¡°You may strike me down, but my philosophies will live on, forever ingrained in the minds of the people.¡±


    ¡°That is not for you to decide.¡± The tentacles struck as the last word left her lips, whistling through the sky with their grasping feelers distorting the aether. But they were intercepted.


    A watery blob formed in the space between them and blocked the attack. It spun and whirled as a feminine shark head grew from its crest. Thick, conical arms extended from both sides, each ending in a muscular fin. When it hit the ground, it flipped upside down and grew a bottom half as well. It had no legs, only a tail akin to that of a genie¡¯s, a thin, wispy frame that converged on a single point. It was an undine, a water spirit bound to the leech by contract.


    Having fully absorbed the squid¡¯s attack, the undine opened its jaws and charged the caster. Despite her dwindling reserves, the queen focused her mana, forming a whirlpool at the tip of her maw. It was a hundred meters tall at first, but it soon shrank into a tiny orb that swirled toward her foe. Impact was not its trigger. It exploded before it reached the princess and enveloped her in its raging tides.


    The water ran red.


    When the jetstreams dispersed, Arciel emerged without a scratch. Her body was guarded by a pair of massive, bloody hands clasped tightly around her frame. The undine had lunged towards the cocoon, ready to break it with a knife in hand, but it was caught midcharge and bound within a shadowy, tentacular web.


    Though it was thoroughly bound, the princess didn¡¯t dare approach. She walked around the creature, her eyes resting on the dagger held between its fins. The proxy was armed with nothing but that single tiny blade, but it was precisely the weapon that made it so deadly.


    ¡°Do you know its name, Arciel?¡±


    ¡°There is no world where I would not,¡± The squid took a deep breath as she raised her wand and weaved her mana. ¡°Even if it was not mine to inherit.¡± Arcerula¡¯s blade had always been passed from mother to daughter, sister to sister, and aunt to niece, the transfer of its ownership handled in place of a crown. It was not Arciel but her sister that was meant to bear it next. But Arceleste was dead, slain by the whore in one of the night mother¡¯s fallen temples. ¡°But with no others left in line, I shall take it upon myself to bear the burden.¡±


    The glimmering white relic had its length marked by a crimson cross and its handle adorned with the first queen¡¯s unmistakable crowning gem. Its name was Grimswald¡¯s Thirstquencher, and it was a Vel¡¯khanese relic of almighty renown.


    A single stab, regardless of where it landed, would drain all the blood in its target¡¯s body. The vital fluid would pour from the open wound and leave the victim as shrivelled as a corpse.


    ¡°If you think it a burden, then why not relinquish the throne?¡± asked the water mage. ¡°Vel¡¯khan has changed for the better under my rule.¡±


    Arciel scoffed. ¡°It was never the throne that I was after.¡±


    Though words flowed between them, neither mage stood at attention. Both were focused on casting under their breaths.


    Priscilla was the first to finish. Unleashing a torrent of raw mana, she called the sea into the sky. There were a hundred million litres of water, every drop overcharged with lightning. The spell was absurd; the sheer amount of magic required was twice the kraken¡¯s maximum capacity. And the queen had pulled it off with her pool already drained.


    The entire mass bore down at once, but Arciel faced it with a blatant scowl. It was no ars magna¡ªthere was no refinement or technique, only brute force haphazardly applied.


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    She completed her spell right before she was struck. With the bloody throne formed behind her, she sat down and crossed her legs, not only to haughtily display her confidence but because it was a necessary part of the procedure. A massive shadow formed beneath her, with a dozen blood-born leviathans emerging from the depths. One by one, they charged, splitting up in all different directions with the queen as their aim. And one by one, they were swallowed, taken by the waves and washed away.


    It was the expected result, the reason she had needed to deplete the leech¡¯s mana. If Priscilla could really cast it twenty times as computed, there would be no chance at victory.


    Still, the usurper¡¯s confidence remained. The leviathans had never been intended as a solution to the problem at hand; even without an ars magna, the queen was guaranteed to crush her in a contest of raw power. Her eternal minions had only been summoned to test the waters and stall for time.


    As the elin cleansed her two-headed turtles, the vampire squid clasped her hands and prayed. She entreated the goddess for her aid, offering the very blood that ran through her veins. Just a few weeks prior, it would have taken several minutes for her benediction to demonstrate its effect. But with her priestess class finally evolved, it was a five-second affair.


    A massive beam descended from the sky and swallowed the floating ocean. The moon¡¯s light did not evaporate the water, nor did it kill the sea life still stuck within. It only relinquished it from the mage¡¯s control and accelerated it toward its natural, destined state. Because that was the moon goddess¡¯ power, the concept of the guiding light.


    A torrential downpour fell upon the city, washing away the unwary and flooding the unprepared. The damage was almost impossible to measure, spanning from one end of the city to the other.


    ¡°Relying on borrowed power,¡± Priscilla shook her head, ¡°it is always that with the likes of you.¡± She was deathly pale. Her naturally black body was a faint grey, much closer to white than any other shade. For elin, it was a clear sign of mana deprivation. Her body was completely without the magic it needed to support all its functions.


    Her undine, on the other hand, was in perfect form. Having finally broken free of its prison, it charged at Arciel with its blade held high. Only to be tackled out of the air by a trio of crimson shades. They all had familiar shapes. One was a large insect with a pair of reverent scythes, one was a young lady with a cat-like tail and the last was an abomination of a serpentine moose.


    They were all copies, but each had supplied her with such a copious amount of blood that they could use most of the originals'' skills. Matthias'' clone was the first to strike. He crossed his scythes and slashed at the air in front of him. There were ten meters between the mantis and his opponent, but the gap was easily closed by the echo that accompanied his attack. It followed right after his sweep, a blast of pure energy with no definite shape filled the space and sliced right into the spirit of water. It was the ars magna that had come with his knight class, performed with eighty percent of its power.


    Had the undine been a beast of flesh and blood, it surely would have fallen. But the liquid that made up its form bubbled and regenerated. Just in time for the other two to take the stage. Claire''s clone used its magic to pry the royal blade from the undine''s flippers and passed it to Natalya¡¯s, who mauled it with a thousand slashes.


    Still, the spirit regenerated. Unaging, undying, and eternal, the oathbound servant was not so easily removed. It lashed out with its body half-formed and cleaved straight through the copies with its watery whips. Having been given no orders to retreat or prioritise self-preservation, they remained exactly where they were and took the attacks head-on. But it was no matter. More blood rose from the shadows and patched their wounds. And they began the cycle anew.


    Priscilla gritted her teeth. She needed time, time to stall for mana. Time to cast a spell. But she had none.


    Arciel approached with slow, deliberate steps, chanting under her breath as she walked. The surrounding shadows gathered at the tip of her wand. Every last patch of darkness was sucked into an infinitely small point. For an instant, the city was fully lit, free of its blackened stains. The various objects that lay scattered around the world almost seemed to lose their definition as they were embraced by the same global illumination. Where their colours matched, it was almost impossible to determine where one ended and the next began.


    In the next moment, as the world returned to its usual self, the squid¡¯s spell was unleashed. The ars magna known as the Waning Light took a simple form. It was a tiny, black spec with no particularly outstanding properties. It moved at an average speed and contained an average amount of magic. It didn¡¯t distort the air around it like an arcane bolt, nor did it interfere with any of the world¡¯s natural properties like one of a wilder origin. At least not until it reached its target.


    Priscilla¡¯s shadow swelled to ten times its previous size as the spell landed square on her chest. It rose from the ground with its silhouette distorted. Massive, claw-like hands grew from its midsection, and holes were drawn into its head with blood seeping out from within them. The eyes were in the same places as Priscilla¡¯s but of a completely different shape. Their round silhouettes were replaced by almond-like holes, and their pupils had runes inscribed within. The shadow twisted and flailed as it raised its hands to its face and plunged its fingers into the sockets as if to stop them from leaking their crimson plasma. Then and only then was there a change in the spell¡¯s target. A pair of padlocks appeared in the queen¡¯s pupils, weaved from the moment of darkness stolen from the night.


    And so went her vision.


    It was not just her eyes that were affected. Darkness was effectively a denial of light, and it was precisely around that concept that the spell was formed. Its targets were sentenced to a reality where the very notion of light was rejected, a world where none of its effects could be observed or manifested. Sight was merely one of the many facets bound by a forced shift in the victim¡¯s worldview.


    Had Priscilla been a wood mage, she would have been immediately disabled, for with no light from the sun, there was no energy from which the plants could grow.


    Had she been a mirror mage, she would have found her kaleidoscopes dysfunctional, for there were no patterns to be reflected in the infinite abyss.


    And had she been a light mage, she would have found all her powers sealed, for her very element would have been outright deleted.


    But Priscilla was a water mage. It was only by the blindness that she was affected.


    Groaning, the elin flailed, firing spells everywhere there were steps to be heard. They were weak, elementary blasts of water, blades too weak and deprived of mana to cut through the squidgirl''s bloody shields, too weak to stop a tentacle from kicking her to the ground.


    ¡°Have you made your peace, wench?¡±


    She twisted her lips into a condescending smirk. Her men had spent years, decades, gathering information on the queen¡¯s abilities. She had honed her own classes and skills in response, showing the utmost restraint in the methods that her shadow magic was applied so that she could acquire the perfect countermeasure. She had refrained from rescuing her fallen kin, even after seeing the state of the vampire queen¡¯s farm. All so she could guide her growth and choose her ars magna. And in the end, finally, it had all come to fruition. She was only a flick of the wand away from returning the blasphemer to the flow.


    ¡°What will you do with this nation?¡± Priscilla¡¯s voice was quiet, barely audible.


    ¡°That is none of your business,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°The people will not accept your rule,¡± spat the leech. ¡°My beliefs are already ingrained into their subconscious. The old ways will never be restored exactly as they were. Not while the nation pines for freedom.¡±


    The squid frowned briefly before waving her wand and summoning a bloody guillotine. There was a loud crack as she dropped the blade, and then, silence.


    Arciel waited for a few moments, her eyes scanning her logs, before she finally tucked her wand back into her hat and turned away. ¡°I had never planned on reinstating the old ways. Nor do I have anything against yours.¡± The words were spoken to the corpse, so as not to give the whore the satisfaction of hearing them. ¡°Some of your policies, especially the economically infeasible, will be undone. But your dream, your hope for a better Vel¡¯khan, has not ended with your life.¡±


    A hand on her hat, the princess-turned-queen gazed up at the moon. And prayed for success in fulfilling her duty.

 Chapter 262 - Cat Business

    Chapter 262 - Cat Business


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Claire twisted her lips into a frown as a familiar hand extended from her shadow and captured her wrist.


    Its owner exited the dark expanse soon after, her lips twisted into a cocky smile. She gave the lyrkress a light tug, followed by another when her fingers refused to move. ¡°Priscilla is dead. There is no need to execute those that took her side for coin alone.¡±


    It was a declaration that only led Claire to put more force into the grip. Her veins bulged as she nearly squeezed the elephant¡¯s eyes out of her skull before an exasperated, knowing smile convinced her to reluctantly relinquish her kill. Of course, she wasn¡¯t entirely compliant. She kicked the mercenary in the gut as she dropped her, a final show of dominance that left the elephant with her eyes rolled into the back of her head. The erdbrechers¡¯ reaction was split, featuring a mix of relieved sighs and horrified gasps, but whatever the case, no one moved to retaliate. They remained where they were with their weapons drawn and their eyes shifting between the matriarch-strangler and the queen of animal control.


    ¡°You owe me,¡± grumbled Claire. ¡°And congratulations.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said the squid, with a warm smile. ¡°I have waited many long years to avenge my kin. And now, it has finally come to fruiti¡ª¡±


    ¡°Not that.¡± Claire grabbed the squid¡¯s nose and gave it a formidable pinch. ¡°I meant the ascension.¡±


    The freshly crowned monarch retrieved her fan and covered the bottom of her face, but her shock was hardly veiled, easily noted through her rapidly blinking eyes. ¡°And here I was, hoping to catch you by surprise.¡±


    Arciel was in her usual humanoid form. As far as she had been able to tell, by looking at herself in a bubble-shaped mirror, she looked exactly the same as she had prior to her ascension. If anything, it was the expected behaviour. She would have been far more surprised to see her appearance altered. Unlike Claire¡¯s forms, hers were not reflections, but careful and deliberate constructions made by way of a skill.


    ¡°Easily.¡± Claire stuck out her tongue. ¡°It was written all over your face.¡±


    The fresh level 500 lightly touched a hand to her features. ¡°Is it really?¡± She traced the tips of her fingers across her visage, lightly touching her lips and her nose. ¡°I can hardly feel a difference.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s very different.¡± Claire stood up on her toes and jabbed a finger into the side of the kraken¡¯s cheek. ¡°This spot makes it particularly obvious.¡±


    Arciel moved her own hands to the same location and felt around, only to find herself twice as confused.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure she¡¯s just messing with you!¡± A third voice forced itself into the conversation from afar. When the pair turned towards the distant speaker, they found Sylvia floating through the air with a cat scruffed in her paws. Natalya waved when their eyes met, her troubled smile easily recognisable, even from the other side of the sky.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Yeah, right!¡± shouted the forest critter. ¡°I bet you just guessed from context ¡®cause you knew she was kinda close already.¡±


    ¡°That would certainly make for a more reasonable interpretation,¡± said Arciel, ¡°but I¡¯ve found that she often gleans far too much for it to be merely a product of deductive reasoning. Her ability to understand Agent Snufflepuffs, for example, is simply irrational.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ yeah. I guess you¡¯re right. Marc¡¯s kinda hard to understand if you can¡¯t peek into her skull.¡±


    ¡°It can get a bit creepy,¡± added Lia, as she was set down in the ring. ¡°Sometimes, I swear she knows what I¡¯m going to say before I do.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault,¡± huffed the lyrkress. ¡°You¡¯re just too easy to read.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes, I just think it¡¯d be nice if we could just have a normal conversation. You know, without the part where you overanalyze my psyche and dig up my deepest subconscious thoughts.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have any deep thoughts. Only perverted ones.¡±


    ¡°Oh, for the last time, Claire! I¡¯m not a pervert!¡±


    The accuser briefly narrowed her eyes before turning back to the squid. ¡°So? What are you now?¡±


    ¡°Wait a second, you can¡¯t just brush me off like that! Claire! I! Am! Not! A! Pervert!¡±


    ¡°I shall elaborate on the particulars of my race when we next find a moment to meet in private.¡± The squid took a moment to adjust her tie before addressing the many elephants in the universally hallucinated room. ¡°As I expect you have already come to understand, your contractor has fallen. While I have certainly heard many stories of mercenaries of your nature facing criminal charges, I assure you that I will do no such thing. I bear no ill will towards you, and would like to speak to a representative.¡±


    There was a brief moment of chaos, with trumpets tooting all around the stands. Some made mention of waking the matriarch, while others volunteered themselves instead, only to be held back by their peers and rivals. Eventually, the girl in fishnets broke free from the crowd and approached. She had a relaxed air to her. Unlike most of the others, she kept her hands hanging loosely by her side and her trunk casually dangling in front of her.


    ¡°I will serve as our representative until the matriarch awakens.¡±


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    ¡°Oh uhmmmm, she¡¯s the one Claire beat up at the end, right? I can wake her up if you want.¡± Sylvia volunteered her services with a raised paw, but the desert-roamer met her proposal with a shake of the head.


    ¡°Let her rest. I doubt she¡¯d be in the mood to talk, even if you woke her.¡±


    ¡°Then I can thrash her until she is,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°How about we solve the problem with a little less violence this time?¡± The cat grabbed the lyrkress by the shoulders and reeled her back before she could draw her lizard again. ¡°Maybe you could settle for a prank or something instead?¡±


    ¡°A prank?¡± Claire raised her tail to her chin. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like a terrible idea.¡±


    ¡°I assume you¡¯ve heard the details of our contract,¡± said Fishnets, as she cast a worried glance in the lyrkress¡¯ direction. ¡°Are you planning on chasing us out?¡±


    ¡°Quite the opposite,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Unfortunately, this city is likely to find itself going through a time with some rather¡­ unruly individuals in power, and I was hoping to employ the lot of you as something of an independent security force for the remaining time that your charges have been paid.¡±


    The young elephant paused to scratch her chin with her trunk. ¡°And why would you choose us? Surely, your men must hold grudges against ours?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps they may, but I have seen for myself your mettle as warriors and the commitment that you have to your duties,¡± said the queen. ¡°Of course, I do not expect an immediate answer, especially not with your decision-maker rendered unconscious, and I have other matters to attend to in the meantime as well. However, I do hope that you will consider it as an option.¡± Arciel snapped her fan shut and turned to face her friends again. ¡°Now, I believe it would be best to announce our victory before the bloodshed finds itself in excess. Sylvia, might you be able to magnify my voice?¡±


    ¡°Uhhhhmmmm¡­ sure¡­?¡± The fox tilted her head. ¡°Oh! Actually, I think I can do something even better.¡± She clapped her paws together and, with a magical arf, painted a grand illusion in the sky.


    It was a picture-perfect projection, an intimately accurate image of the squid depicted from the waist up. Because it was mirrored in real-time, it captured her momentary surprise as she looked up and down between the illusion and her hands, but few took note of her shock. The still-fighting soldiers cast it only a brief glance, as they had with all the other large-scale magic, before returning to their battles; they hadn''t flinched when the darkness was stolen nor when the ocean was lifted above the sky. At the end of the day, the way forward remained unchanged. It was only by fighting and killing that they could fuel their continued survival.


    ¡°Attention all soldiers.¡± But that changed when the projection spoke. Its voice was not loud, nor did its proximity vary its volume. It rang into each of their heads instead, transferred directly by way of a powerful spell. ¡°Lay down your arms. The wretched queen has been slain, and her corpse consigned to the bottom of the sky. We stand united now as a single people, flying a single banner, for a single purpose. There is no longer a need for bloodshed among our ranks. I repeat, there is no longer a need for bloodshed.¡±


    It was an order that the battlefield was hesitant to obey. The warriors had been at each other''s throats just a few seconds prior. Some were on the verge of death, kept alive by little beyond their will to kill. Others were bleeding out, silently praying that their squad mates could secure a wealth of experience before they succumbed to Xekkur¡¯s call. And yet a third group was engaged in a life or death struggle, where even a single misstep, a single moment of hesitation, would lead to their immediate demise. There was not a single reason for anyone, let alone anyone under Priscilla¡¯s command, to abide by her orders, but the empowered words carried with them a mysterious, soothing weight. Starting from those furthest from the battlefield, the soldiers began relinquishing their arms. They released their weapons one by one and turned their eyes to the figure in the sky. Everyone knew who she was. It was only her allies that had caught glimpses of her person, but her enemies had been granted illustrations and descriptions for the purposes of making attempts on her life.


    With no evidence, the words carried little weight. The dagger-shaped heirloom she presented was something known only by the royals and their confidants, a meaningless but valuable object that served no purpose in the eyes of the public. But had it been a false claim, Priscilla surely would have refuted it with a broadcast of her own. She wouldn¡¯t have been able to magnify her body into the sky like her opponent, but she needed only a simple soundstone to poke a hole in the false claim. And it wasn¡¯t as if the army had a lack of them. Every commander had at least one on his person, and the queen, the supreme commander, was no exception. But there was no rebuttal, even as ten, twenty, thirty seconds passed.


    The silence spoke volumes. Even if the queen was not dead, she was likely captured or incapacitated. While many of the field officers had hidden the truth from the men serving beneath them, they were aware that central command had suffered a similar fate. The messengers responsible for relaying their orders had suddenly ceased all activity some thirty minutes prior; the generals were perfectly silent.


    Their operation had been completely and thoroughly dismantled. It was a realisation that came with a mixed bag of emotions. The conscripts were relieved, thankful that they had survived the battle, but the true warriors among them were indignant and insulted. There was yet another faction outraged to see the princess instated as ruler, but their vexation was a tiny droplet in a sea of solace and repose.


    ¡°I speak now not only to those brave souls who have taken up arms for their beliefs but the Vel¡¯khanese people in aggregate.¡± With a flick of the bard¡¯s tail, her voice echoed all across the city. For more than just those attending the battle to hear. ¡°We have suffered greatly under Priscilla¡¯s rule. Heavy taxes, rampant crime, and a complete lack of respect for our longstanding traditions and family values. A blasphemy we shall endure no longer.¡± She took a deep breath and planted the back of her fist against her bosom. ¡°With the coming of spring dawns a new age. As rightful queen of this nation, and as a warrior with hands stained by the wretched harlot¡¯s blood, I shall endeavour to see this nation restored to its former glory. I shall spare no expense in bettering the lives of the people, in working towards a future where our children and their children after them will have forgotten the depraved queen¡¯s cruelty, and in creating a nation whose banner we may all fly with pride.¡±


    She paused for a moment, so that her words could sink into the countless minds they had invaded.


    ¡°Beginning immediately, the annual tax per capita shall be lowered from three silver coins to two. Landowners shall receive additional deductions on their properties¡¯ liabilities, the precise value of which shall be described by the minister of levies and tariffs at a later point in time. Imported goods shall likewise see a deduction in duties owed, and merchants who have already made advance payments shall be granted rebates through the aforementioned ministry.¡±


    The queen raised her hand from her breast to her hat and took a deep breath.


    ¡°The vast majority of key officials shall also be replaced following this incident. To that end, we extend an offer of opportunity to any literate and knowledgeable individuals that wish to involve themselves in government affairs. Wages begin at twice the regular market value, and are subject to further upwards evaluation for candidates with relevant experience.¡±


    Arciel smiled softly. ¡°That is all for the time being. Further details shall be distributed at a later time, with pamphlets made available at your local government offices no later than the end of the week. I bid you all good night. You may rest well, for it is in certain terms that I assure you, Vel¡¯khan shall only continue to prosper.¡±


    With those final words, and a signal to the fox, the queen¡¯s image vanished from the sky. Leaving only a brilliant moonlit night behind.

 Chapter 263 - Cat Business II

    Chapter 263 - Cat Business II


    ¡°I remain of the opinion that the speech would have been more striking had I been seated atop the throne.¡± Arciel walked leisurely across the castle grounds as she spoke with an exaggerated pout. Soldiers from both sides were still out and about, with some running errands and others simply sitting around. Regardless of affiliation, they moved out of her way, with whole regiments splitting like the sea.


    ¡°Maybe for the nobility,¡± said Claire. The statement was followed by a moment of silence. Collectively, the group was too tired to offer a rebuttal. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t matter what they think.¡±


    Of the noble houses whose heads had failed to roll, there remained only three whose fealty was yet unsworn. House Va¡¯arn, House Ragouille, and House Cargot had all remained neutral in the conflict. It was not just their inability to read the tides that restrained them, but their size and relevance as well. For while they were listed in the national ledger, it was only in blood that their nobility rang true. Their clans were poor and powerless, with only a single servant between all three.


    Everyone else was bound to the queen by an oath of subservience, either that or marked for death. That was why the speech had been conducted with the general public in mind, despite the fact that the average person¡¯s life was unlikely to be changed. It wasn¡¯t as if the government had no plans to restructure. Arciel had every intention of kicking every legislative body into high gear and pushing her reforms. But it would still take time for the effects to be seen across the nation.


    It was only in the shining capital that its people would find their day-to-day immediately affected. The conflict had effectively robbed the city of its barrier and encouraged its villains to take to the limelight. Not all of the criminals enlisted in the coup would forever remain within the cycle of depravity. To have their records stricken, to have their sins absolved, was to be presented with an opportunity to start anew, and the Penhorn pirates, at the very least, would be taking it to remodel their business. Strictly speaking, they would still be pirates in role. However, they would be responsible for preying not upon random citizens and traders, but ships operated by the new queen¡¯s enemies. In the short term, that meant boarding random vessels and inspecting the goods and people¡ªanything related to those that opposed the crown was free for the taking.


    The same premise applied in the longer term as well, though instead of the rebellious nobility, they were to set their sights on enemy nations, unscrupulous merchants, and whatever else the government happened to dictate. Of course, they were not officially affiliated. The pirates would still fly the skull and bones, and any help received from the crown would be passed under the table. It was a high-risk endeavour. They were likely to earn the ire of many a nation¡¯s navy, but the pirates still considered it well worth their time.


    To be granted diplomatic immunity, even in only one state¡¯s waters, was to be granted a safe base of operations. Pursuers affiliated with other nations had no choice but to back off lest they were willing to contend with a diplomatic incident. Private bounty hunters could always cross the borders without issue, but they were unlikely to prove themselves a threat. The Penhorns were long accustomed to handling them on the regular, thanks to the massive sums regularly put on their bosses¡¯ heads.


    Not every retiring criminal would merely shift their labels like the blackflags, however. Some claimed that they would seek out slow lives in the countryside, where they could settle down as farmhands, merchants, and craftsmen to chase dreams from the distant past. Of course, the claims lacked any evidence to back their authenticity, and it was likely that many would simply continue their activities, perhaps under new names. But that was why Arciel had negotiated with the erdbrechers. With the elephants, the winged horses, and her own patrols at her beck and call, she was confident that they would be able to keep her former associates well under her thumb.


    It was with that thought in mind that the squid entered the once sparkling white castle. She guided the party to the throne room, not through the gaping hole in the wall, but the various hallways and corridors that made up its interior. Once present in the space again, she swept aside the various corpses and built herself a throne of fresh blood.


    ¡°I did not think that this day would come so soon,¡± she said, as she seated herself in the chair. ¡°Thank you all for your efforts. It would not have been possible without your assistance.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t sweat it!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯s not like I had anything else to do, since Claire always just makes me sit out.¡±


    ¡°Not always.¡±


    ¡°Always and almost always are basically the same thing!¡±


    ¡°No, they aren¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yes, they are!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d just give up,¡± said Natalya, as she grabbed the hat off her wearer and hugged it to her chest. ¡°She¡¯s not going to listen to you when she¡¯s like this.¡±


    ¡°I know, but still!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± said Claire, with a small frown. ¡°You¡¯re just wrong.¡±


    ¡°Let us distance ourselves from matters of correctness for the time being and discuss our future plans.¡± Arciel floated over, throne and all, and physically inserted herself between the quarrelers. ¡°As I suspect you have already surmised, Matthias and I shan¡¯t be accompanying you on your adventures any longer. I must lord over this nation as its monarch whilst he shall serve as a member of my guard.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to miss you,¡± said the cat, with a wistful smile. ¡°I know that you probably won¡¯t really need us for anything, being a proper queen and all, but if you do, just ask. We¡¯ll always be there to listen.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Lia,¡± said the squid. She rose from her seat, grabbed Natalya¡¯s hands, and gave them a squeeze between her own. ¡°I believe you mentioned that you were planning on opening a stor¡ª¡± she cut herself off and went silent for a moment before piping up again. ¡°Before we discuss that matter, I would like to extend an offer to the three of you.¡±


    The fox and cat tilted their heads, while the lyrkress placed a hand on her brow.


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Should you not hear my request before deciding to reject it?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no point,¡± said the qiligon, with her eyes narrowed suspiciously, ¡°I can already tell that it¡¯s going to be something stupid.¡±


    ¡°It most certainly is not. However, I do believe that some explanation is required for it to be understood, and it is with that which I will begin.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother. I already said no.¡±


    The squid twisted her lips into a pout before proceeding nonetheless. ¡°Prior to the whore¡¯s ascension to the throne, the castle grounds were split into two distinct halves. One is the fortress and display of wealth for which it is currently known.¡± She gestured at the various terrariums spread throughout the half-destroyed room. ¡°And the other is a rear palace in which only women, eunuchs, and the reigning queen¡¯s children are allowed.¡±


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    ¡°I knew it was going to be something stupid,¡± mumbled Claire.


    ¡°I shall soon be establishing a harem, and I would like to invite the three of you to join it as my consorts.¡± The queen spoke the words with confidence, in spite of her reddening cheeks. ¡°If I am inevitably to be bred for the sake of producing an heir, I would rather it be with a friend than a stranger.¡± She began fiddling with the various trinkets in her hat as she snuck brief glances at each of the girls in turn. ¡°D-do not be mistaken, this is not precisely a confession of love. I am merely seeking the most familiar of the uncomfortable solutions.¡±


    ¡°S-s-s-sh-sh-shouldn¡¯t you be looking for a prince consort instead?¡± stuttered Natalya. Her eyes were spinning and her face was red, already half overheated. ¡°I-I¡¯m not really sure why you¡¯d be asking us.¡±


    ¡°Like minotaurs and valkyries, my race contains members of only a single sex. It is possible for our reproductive cycles to complete so long as our partners are of flesh and blood, though I am not yet clear on all of the details.¡± Arciel covered the bottom of her face and cleared her throat. ¡°W-whatever the case, I wish to extend all three of you invitations. It will be some time before the rear palace is in a presentable state once more, but I can assure that you will live comfortable lives with all of your needs attended to.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re an idiot,¡± muttered Claire. ¡°I said no. And I meant it.¡±


    ¡°I suppose you did,¡± said Ciel. Her composure returned as she cleared her throat again. ¡°I would be lying if I was to say that I predicted any other response. You are of good stock, but as I am confident you understand already, the mingling of our blood would not end well for either nation.¡±


    ¡°Then don¡¯t ask next time.¡±


    ¡°Do not worry, Claire. The invitation extended to you was hardly anything beyond a formality,¡± said Ciel, with a giggle. ¡°So that you would not feel left out, as you often did when we were subjected to confessions and proposals in town.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°I wasn¡¯t feeling left out.¡±


    ¡°Of course not.¡± Ciel turned towards the other two. ¡°Have you made your decisions?¡±


    ¡°Err¡­ I-I¡¯m really flattered,¡± said Lia, with her face as red as a tomato. ¡°Living in a castle sounds like a dream, and I have always thought that you were really pretty, and I wouldn¡¯t mind¡­ but I think I¡¯ll have to pass. I¡¯m really set on opening that shop I was talking about earlier. I¡¯ve been wanting to give it a try for a while now, and I think I¡¯m just a few jobs away from having enough saved up to get it started.¡±


    ¡°A shame,¡± said the squid, ¡°but the opportunity remains should you ever change your mind. In the meantime, I shall provide the capital to cover your initial expenses, as well as purchase whatever plot of land that you wish to claim.¡±


    ¡°You will?¡± The cat¡¯s eyes opened wide.


    ¡°You chose to aid my cause, even after you were involved without prior knowledge or consent. The gold that I shall be offering is but a paltry sum before the friendship and loyalty you have demonstrated,¡± said the squid, with a smile. ¡°If there is anything more that you require, you are free to request an audience by way of speaking with any of the castle¡¯s staff.¡±


    ¡°T-thanks.¡±


    ¡°But I must ask, to sate my curiosity primarily, what manner of business is it that you have in mind?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t ironed out all the details just yet, because I¡¯m not sure exactly how viable it would be, but the plan is for it to be something of a mix of a consulting firm and a school.¡± Lia took a hand off the fox to adjust her glasses. ¡°We¡¯ve gotten pretty strong, so I was thinking that we could sell our services and experience to adventurers and spelunkers. We could teach people specific skills if they¡¯re interested in our classes, and we could help people sort through the job board and pick what¡¯s best for them.¡±


    ¡°That is certainly an interesting proposition, but how would you earn profit?¡±


    ¡°We could either skim a bit off the top of each request, or maybe charge a flat fee. I was going to work it out with Auntie after all the fighting finally died down.¡±


    ¡°I shall consider enlisting it as a government-funded operation should she determine it to be profitable. Do bring me the plans once you have them sorted.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said the cat, with a meek smile.


    ¡°Now, I believe that leaves only one.¡± Ciel turned her eyes to the conflicted-looking fox trapped in the catgirl¡¯s embrace. ¡°Have you come to a decision, Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ I feel like my great grandpa-thingy is going to get really mad at me if I don¡¯t say yes, but staying cooped up in a castle sounds kinda boring. I kinda just wanna go on adventures and stuff.¡±


    ¡°I imagined as much.¡± The vampire¡¯s lips wavered as she pulled her hat over her eyes. ¡°Truly a shame. It appears I shall remain a lonely queen with no souls to confide in.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said the cat. ¡°I¡¯ll still be in the city. You can come visit any time once I get the shop set up.¡±


    ¡°What of you two?¡± Arciel looked between the fox and the lyrkress. ¡°Have you already decided on your next destination?¡±


    ¡°Not yet,¡± said Claire. ¡°But we have a few in mind.¡±


    ¡°Oh uhm¡­ about that¡­¡± Natalya grabbed the lyrkress¡¯ sleeve. ¡°I was wondering if you¡¯d be willing to run my shop with me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just as dumb as the stupid squid¡¯s idea.¡±


    ¡°N-no it isn¡¯t!¡± Lia bit her bottom lip and swayed her hips back and forth. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to be considerate.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes.


    ¡°It¡¯s just that you¡¯ve been really burnt out recently, so I thought it might be a good idea for you to take a bit of a break from leveling.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not burnt out.¡±


    ¡°You totally are!¡± Sylvia chimed in with an angry huff. ¡°You¡¯ve been stuck in a rut ever since Melly kicked your butt, and it¡¯s been bugging the heck out of me!¡±


    ¡°No, I haven¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you have! You used to be a lot more creative when you killed stuff, and you were super fun to watch. But lately, you¡¯ve just been smashing your head into things until they die.¡±


    ¡°I am also of the opinion that you have been in low spirits,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°If you¡¯re worried about Sylvia getting bored, we can still go out on weekend adventures,¡± suggested the cat, ¡°and it isn¡¯t as if we¡¯ll stop dungeon diving and exploring altogether. It¡¯ll just be a little slower, so you can have a bit more time to pull yourself back together.¡±


    The lyrkress slowly looked between the three, carefully fixing her eyes on each of their faces in turn. ¡°I¡¯m not burnt out.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! Now you¡¯re just being stubborn!¡± grumbled the fox. ¡°Look! Even Boris agrees!¡± She floated the lizard off Claire¡¯s back and hovered him in front of her face, where he greeted her with a series of rapid nods. ¡°And heck! You¡¯re being so careless that you forgot you weren¡¯t supposed to show people your tiny form!¡±


    The child averted her eyes while slowly returning to her usual height. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Do not worry. We found it to be a rather adorable sight for sore eyes,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°I probably would¡¯ve squealed if Sylvia hadn¡¯t warned me ahead of time,¡± said the cat, with an awkward smile.


    ¡°See? You¡¯re totally out of whack! Stop being stubborn and just admit it!¡±


    Claire looked around the room again before crossing her arms and breathing a sigh. ¡°Fine.¡± She jabbed her tail into the cat¡¯s forehead. ¡°I¡¯ll help you run the stupid store. But only until I get bored.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose there is any harm in asking you to join my harem again, now that you are of a different mind?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not joining,¡± said Claire, with a roll of the eyes. ¡°Pervert.¡±


    ¡°I shall have you know that I am nothing of the sort. It is simply my duty to procreate, as the final member of my species.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say that there were a few more of them being held captive?¡± asked Lia.


    ¡°Perhaps if technicalities are to be observed.¡± Arciel twisted her face into a grimace. ¡°It would be easier to show you than to explain.¡±


    Pulling her hat further over her head, the witch waltzed out of the throne room and led her companions deeper into the castle¡¯s depths.

 Chapter 264 - Cat Business III

    Chapter 264 - Cat Business III


    ¡°I must warn you, it is a grisly sight.¡±


    Arciel voiced the warning as she arrived at a large, metal door. There were no holes or glass panels in its frame, nothing that aided in precisely determining its thickness, but its absurd weight was made clear regardless. Its handle was as thick as an arm, and each of the latches that kept it shut was made from a full sword¡¯s worth of steel. There was something in the realm of a hundred locks adorning its frame, some made of metal, others formed of magic, all adding to its already ridiculous weight.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire, with a roll of the eyes. ¡°It¡¯s not like we¡¯ve never killed anything before.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± said the squid, with a forced smile. ¡°But there exist many fates much worse than death.¡±


    She raised a severed head to the door and pressed it against the bare steel. The various mechanisms whirled to life immediately; the magic circles spun, the chains retracted, and the locks twisted themselves out of shape. The door moved of its own accord as well, swinging wide open as soon as the final binding was disengaged.


    On the other side of the barrier stood an average Vel¡¯khanese prison. As per the national standard, it featured two types of cells. On the left were rooms constructed with terrestrial creatures in mind. Each had a small desk, a single chair, a bed, and a bucket, all barred off from the outside world with a series of enchanted metal poles. Sitting opposite them was a series of glass tanks meant for prisoners from the sea. They were inserted partially into the ground, with the top opening up to a small piece of land in the corner of each room. Magic circles were inscribed into the walls to serve as filtration systems. They filtered waste from the water and ensured that it was never deprived of air.


    Unlike a Cadrian equivalent, which would have been kept sparkling and hygienic, the Vel¡¯khanese gaol was a dingy, unmaintained mess with layers of dust caked onto every surface. The prisoners were likewise undignified. Many of them sitting in the corners of their cells, huddled up and unresponsive, eyes devoid of light. Their food rations, which often looked a few days old, were completely untouched, and the land-dwellers were practically stewing in their own waste. One of the dolphin-like inmates had even managed to drown in his pool, his bloated, rotting carcass floated up the surface for all the others to smell.


    The girls continued squabbling about one thing or other whilst making their way down another three halls. At the end of the labyrinth, past all the various cells and holding pens, sat a musty wooden door. It was only waist high and featured a shape akin to that of a gate for small animals. There were several clear gaps in the wood, but all was obscured by a thin black veil.


    Even with the cloth in their path, the conditions beyond were clear. There was a rancid stench wafting through the air, the sick, sour smell of something past due. Mingled in with the scents were thick juicy squelches, the sound of mud being ground against one¡¯s toes, of flesh being squished and turned to paste.


    When the curtain was pulled aside, the party was greeted by a series of pods. Their frames were made of wood; they looked like roots or vines with fungal membranes growing between them, each packed to bursting with a mix of flesh and fluid. Some of the roots transported the fluids in and out, with each featuring one particularly thick tendril that fed into a bucket by the door. The purified liquid was thick and white, and it was also present in large quantities within the pods. But in them, it was not alone. The milk was mixed with everything else, stained a sickly yellow-brown by the squids¡¯ other secretions.


    And it was in those secretions that they were bathed. Constantly. The pods contained nothing but bodies and unsanitary liquids, a veritable cesspool of insanity, sustained by the magic circle inscribed into the center of the room.


    Without the healing spell, the squids¡¯ continued existence was impossible. They would have succumbed immediately to the countless diseases that riddled their frames. Their skin was covered in warts¡ªcancerous growths rejected from their bodies. Blood leaked from their pores, further polluting the visceral mess that had become their final habitat.


    ¡°Behold. The handiwork of a queen obsessed with justice.¡± Ciel spat the words as she waded through the room, whose floor was covered in the same corrupted vines that made up the pods, and approached the squid that sat in its center. She was the only one whose body was still intact, the one creature that shared the new queen¡¯s underwater form, and the bud from which the greenery grew. It extended from the tips of her tentacles as several lines of blood constantly ran down her face, dripping from her various orifices. Her eyes were lifeless, like all the other prisoners, but her lips were constantly moving, uttering individual words in a flattened tone.


    ¡°Cell 3. Oxygen levels low. Adjusting. Cell 4. Fecal levels high. Adjusting. Cell 5. No flags raised. Adjustments omitted.¡±


    She looped through each of the seven entries, over and over, repeating only the output designated by the spell carved into her face.


    ¡°This is my aunt,¡± said Arciel, after a deep breath. ¡°The fool that took the whore into her harem.¡± She bent down and traced the sigil engraved into the older squid¡¯s forehead. ¡°Or at least all that remains. She is no longer capable of thought, reduced to a living machine by the leech¡¯s machinations.¡±


    ¡°The Kaldysian Curse,¡± said Claire, as she eyed the brand.


    ¡°You know it?¡±


    The half-snake nodded. ¡°My teacher drilled it into me.¡± Claire paused for a moment to recall the pointless endeavour. Allegra had refused to lecture her on any other topic until she was able to recite the seven divine curses and their precise functions. Of the seven, five were tame, more petty and spiteful than truly malicious. The Curse of Gnarm possessed its victims with the urge to flatulate when engaged in conversation, the Curse of Zalkon ensured ingrown nails, and the Curse of Ribbendam tickled the bottom of the target¡¯s foot each time they took a step, and so on and so forth.


    It was only the last two that were of a truly malignant nature. The Kaldysian Curse replaced the person in question with a programmable doll made of their flesh, and the Final Curse forbade its victims from interacting with the ones they loved, for any such individual met with an affectionate caress would immediately perish on account of the curse god¡¯s authority.


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    From an outsider¡¯s perspective, the categorization was comical. The disparity between the first five and the last two was like night and day. But despite the apparent differences, they were not grouped without reason; divine curses were permanent, with no hope of removal. It was only Builledracht himself that could trigger them, and a high-level ritual mage that could entreat him to extend his hand.


    ¡°Then you must also know the sole resolution.¡± The squid drew her blade from her hat. ¡°I do not believe we are capable of offering them salvation. Disease is a weakness of my people. Once infected, it is difficult, if not impossible for us to be cured. Without this spell to sustain them, I see only a future wherein they perish.¡±


    ¡°Wait, doesn¡¯t that make it like, really, really really risky for you to be here?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± said the queen. ¡°But it is my duty to see my kin released from their suffering.¡± She turned for a moment to look at the fox. ¡°I have long resolved myself to set them upon the path of ruin and walk with them until they are unable. But I must ask, might you, any of you, be aware of another solution?¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnnn¡­ hmmmmnnn¡­¡± Sylvia stood up on her hind legs and crossed her front paws.


    ¡°Your aunt cannot be saved,¡± said Claire. ¡°Not even another god can break one of Builledracht¡¯s divine curses.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I dunno if we can do anything about her, but my great grandpa thingy might be able to help with the others?¡±


    ¡°Your great grandfather¡­ thingy?¡± repeated the squid.


    ¡°Yeah! He¡¯s a celestial and he¡¯s really good at like making life and fixing people and stuff. But he¡¯s a huge perv, and I dunno if he¡¯s gonna help. Even if he does, he¡¯ll probably ask for a whole bunch of favours in return.¡±


    ¡°Bad idea,¡± said Claire. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t trust him.¡±


    She narrowed her eyes as she imagined the old man in question. Though she hadn¡¯t seen him in months, she could easily imagine him cackling as he watched the conversation unfold, every wrinkle in his skin as clear as the last.


    ¡°I take it you are personally acquainted with this celestial, Claire?¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! He¡¯s not that bad! I mean, sure he¡¯s a little annoying, and he¡¯s a bit of a perv, but he¡¯s a really nice guy, I swear!¡±


    ¡°A bit?¡± Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°He pesters me with his delusional fantasies twice a week, sometimes in the middle of the night.¡±


    ¡°I-I know it sounds bad, but that¡¯s probably just ¡®cause he likes you.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t sound bad, it is bad. We¡¯re not dealing with him. End of story.¡±


    ¡°If you are unwilling, then it cannot be helped,¡± said the squid. She raised the dagger overhead and took a breath. ¡°I shall proceed as planned.¡±


    Claire took a long look at the squid¡¯s face before breathing a sigh. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll talk to him for you,¡± she grumbled under her breath as she magically yoinked Arciel away from her target. ¡°Stupid bloodthirsty squid. Can¡¯t even sort out her own stupid feelings.¡± The qiligon looked up at the fox and booped her on the nose. ¡°Hurry up and warp us. Before I change my mind.¡±


    ¡°Mmk!¡± said the half-elf, with a beaming smile. She clapped her paws together and closed her eyes to focus on her magic. Three circles immediately formed beneath her, one to designate the coordinates, one to bypass the trial, and another to deny the necessity of a ritual. Before long, they came together to form a magical gate, a glowing hole in the fabric of reality linking the castle¡¯s basement to a world of fairies and perverts.


    Claire pursed her lips into a frown as she looked through the portal. On the other side was a familiar scene, a pair of worlds with one upside down and the other right beneath her feet. The sun had already set in Vel¡¯khan, but Mirewood Meadow was still bright as day. The insects were humming, the ravens were chirping, and the frogs were croaking the morning away. Though it had been a long time since she had last seen it, she felt little in the way of nostalgia, only a wave of a familiar vexation.


    Perhaps because of the way the celestial¡¯s world was configured, its light remained strictly internal. Not a single one of the beams leaked beyond the doorway; the space outside was lit only by the glowing amoebic mess that marked its outer walls. It was a peculiarity that immediately drove the cat to approach. She extended a finger towards it, but Claire grabbed her by the scruff before she could enter.


    ¡°Don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± She frowned for a moment before suddenly perking up, her tail straight and her ears at attention. ¡°Wait, is that the dungeon that Sylvia¡¯s from?¡±


    ¡°Mhm!¡± said the fox. ¡°It¡¯s where I lived before I met Claire.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± The cat backed off immediately. She positioned herself behind the lyrkress, shrinking her body as best she could to obscure herself with the smaller girl¡¯s frame. It was not just the feline that remained cautious. Arciel took a few steps back as well, eyeing the portal from afar with one hand on the wand buried in her hat.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be back soon,¡± said the only humanoid to step forward. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be long.¡±


    ¡°Are you two sure you¡¯ll be fine by yourselves?¡± asked Lia, with a gulp.


    ¡°Yup! Don¡¯t worry, the monsters here are actually super weak,¡± said Sylvia. She took a deep breath as she hopped through the portal, happily gulping the familiar air back into her lungs. ¡°Claire¡¯s only almost gotten killed a few times.¡±


    ¡°T-that isn¡¯t making them sound very weak,¡± squeaked the feline.


    ¡°I was level 20,¡± said the lyrkress. Claire paused briefly before passing through the rift. For a moment, she was concerned with the possibility that it would steal her levels again, but she soon recalled an entry that declared her immune to the trial¡¯s effects. And as far as she could tell, Alfred had already acknowledged its completion.


    ¡°I do recall that Sylvia was from a dungeon of some sort, but I do not believe I was made privy to its identity,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Oh uhmm...¡± Natalya looked between the two royals, unsure of whether she was meant to speak its name.


    ¡°It¡¯s Llystletein,¡± said Claire, unceremoniously.


    ¡°I see.¡± The squid was just as nonchalant at first, but her face slowly warped out of shape as the statement sank in. ¡°You mean to say the hero-killer from the myths?¡±


    ¡°Yup!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Anyway, keeping this portal open eats a whole bunch of mana, and some of the gods¡¯ll probably get really reeeaallly pissed if they find it, so we gotta go! We¡¯ll be back soon!¡±


    She waved happily at the gawking kraken, and then with another clap, closed the door behind her.

 Chapter 265 - Cat Business IV

    Chapter 265 - Cat Business IV


    A reluctant Claire closed her eyes and took a deep breath before scanning her surroundings. Though she stood upon the forest floor, she could practically feel the marsh¡¯s moist mud wrapped around the tips of her toes. She could taste its disgusting frogs in all their glory and hear its squawking ravens. One particularly obnoxious bird even charged right at her, engaging as soon as it was alerted to her presence, but she crushed its half mechanical body with a series of vectors and threw its scrap metal corpse into a nearby tree. The bits of rocket fuel contained within its booster ignited on impact and transformed the meatball into a burst of blood and shrapnel.


    One of the bird¡¯s friends turned tail and ran, while the others rushed her down, but whatever the case, their fate was the same. All were crushed, completely destroyed by her magic before they were given a chance to act.


    ¡°I can¡®t believe I¡¯m back already,¡± said Sylvia. She bounced around, stretching from left to right and front to back whilst stamping her paws into the undergrowth. ¡°It doesn¡¯t even feel like I was gone for all that long.¡±


    ¡°Because you weren¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn, I guess you¡¯re right.¡± Sylvia placed a paw on her chin. ¡°It just felt kinda long because of all the stuff that¡¯s happened.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. I wasn¡¯t expecting to be back for another decade.¡± Claire lifted the canine into her arms and gave her a squeeze. ¡°How do we find Alfred?¡±


    ¡°I dunno. Normally he just kinda shows up,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Oh, but if I had to guess, he¡¯ll be here in a sec because he probably noticed me teleporting in.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯d have guessed right.¡±


    The man suddenly appeared in the space in front of her following a brief, shimmering distortion. The aged pervert was almost exactly as Claire remembered. He was a megalith of a man with his two-meter frame adorned in a standard set of wizard¡¯s robes. The hair on his head was white and thick like his massive beard, full on both accounts in spite of his age. In his hands, he held an old wooden cane, more of a walking stick than a wand or staff.


    ¡°Oh, hi Al!¡± Sylvia stood up on her hind legs and greeted him with a wave. ¡°Long time no see!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been a good few months.¡± He had a boyish grin on his face, one completely unbefitting a man of his apparent age. It was purely by choice that the contrast was present; the celestial was easily capable of altering his form. ¡°How are you, child?¡±


    ¡°Super great! Claire¡¯s been really nice to me, and our new friends have been even nicer!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to tell me all about them sometime.¡±


    The same was true of all the other gods and demigods as well. According to the scriptures, they had full control over their bodies and could assume whatever shape they wished. Their most common forms were simply their preferred, often selected to best confirm with each individual¡¯s identity. The divine collective of art and song was most known for leveraging this feature, as its members would often take on whatever appearances they needed to best inspire their still-mortal peers.


    ¡°Mmk! But I think it¡¯ll probably have to wait for a bit since we have some business and stuff. Oh uhmmm¡­ speaking of, we should probably get to it since we promised everyone we¡¯d be back soon.¡±


    ¡°Certainly, but before we do, I believe it would be worth mentioning that there is a bit of a¡­ problem.¡±


    ¡°Uhhh, do you mean with the way I teleported back in or something? I know I overwrote a bunch of stuff but I thought it¡¯d be fine.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t so much of a problem with your entry, but rather your condition.¡±


    ¡°R-really? Am I sick or something?¡±


    Should any other gods engage in such an activity, its nature would surely be determined by the others as a political attack, a ploy to increase their influence and establish another believer over which they could exert their powers. But the divine collective was different. To the many artists, musicians, and playwrights that dominated the hivemind¡¯s ranks, the bolstering of its numbers was but a happy coincidence. The collective had no interest in divinity, nor the struggle between the forces of order and chaos. It was only in the creation of masterpieces in which it saw its purpose.


    ¡°No, no, not at all. But why is it that you¡¯re still a virgin?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the problem!?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been surrounded by a flock of beautiful maidens for months. If I was you, I would¡¯ve sunk my fangs into them all by now.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯d have strangled me if you were me.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, perhaps not. There is no way to know.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­ uhh¡­ yeah, sure.¡±


    Alfred, on the other hand, was a veritable bundle of ambition¡ªa man that had stolen souls from the cycle and risked Flux¡¯s wrath to pursue a lust for power¡ªand it was precisely that ambition which Claire was guarded against. She watched him like a cat; her eyes were narrowed, her back was bent, and her talons were ready. There was even a hiss halfway up her throat, ready to be unleashed as soon as he did anything untoward.


    When the demigod noted her behaviour, he immediately broke into a fit of laughter, a hysterical cackle that had the old man doubled over, slapping his knees.


    ¡°Hello, Claire,¡± he said, as he wheezed. ¡°I can¡¯t say I was expecting to see you anytime soon. I was under the impression that you weren¡¯t coming back until you were capable of stabbing me in the face.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t think I won¡¯t do it.¡± The lyrkress produced a small blade of ice and pointed its tip between the old pervert¡¯s legs.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure you would.¡± He walked closer, in spite of the blatant threat to his manhood, and extended a hand. ¡°You¡¯re the first trial goer to ever return. It¡¯s good to see you again.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes even further, glancing skeptically between the outstretched limb and its owner before reluctantly gripping it in her own. The playful look in his eye was gone, replaced by a calm, sagacious smile.


    ¡°I¡¯ll admit, your Llystletein classes deserve their reputation,¡± she said.


    ¡°I¡¯d sure hope so. I¡¯ve put more hours into refining them than I have the rest of my projects combined.¡± He released her hand and backed away to a more comfortable distance. ¡°Now, what exactly are you here for? I doubt it¡¯s another reset you¡¯re after.¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°You don¡¯t know? Weren¡¯t you watching?¡±


    ¡°You make it sound like I have nothing better to do,¡± grumbled the old man.


    ¡°Do you?¡±


    ¡°I know you don¡¯t think much of me, but you do have to remember, I¡¯m a very important and very busy man. And like any other man of my stature, I¡¯ve been stuck dealing with interpersonal relations, social obligations, and so on and so forth. You know how these things go, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    Claire paused for a moment before slowly nodding her head. ¡°I guess I do.¡±


    ¡°So now that we have that out of the way.¡± The celestial snapped his fingers and transported the party straight into a familiar living room. They were placed right by the hearth, its warm flames flickering the cold spring air away.


    The demigod was as tall as the ceiling, but the size of the room was hardly a hindrance. He was already seated by the time he materialised in the space, leaning as far back as his chair would allow. The bearded man crossed his legs while his pipe filled itself with some dried plant or other and floated its way into his lips. The resulting smoke, which he puffed from his lungs with a relaxed sigh, had a floral scent halfway between a lily¡¯s and a rose¡¯s.


    ¡°So? What did you need?¡±


    ¡°One of our friends has this really weird problem where some of her friends are like uhmmm¡­ super diseased because of some weird mutant spell thingy. And I was kinda hoping that you¡¯d be able to help her out.¡±


    ¡°Let me see¡­¡± A wooden stick floating on a nearby counter rose of its own accord and moved in a wide, circular pattern. The flames changed with every motion, the shadows within soon transforming into a picture-perfect projection of their last non-Llystletein location. ¡°Very interesting,¡± said the celestial, ¡°very interesting indeed.¡± He slowly pushed himself into an upright position and leaned forward on his chair, his eyes focused on the scene. ¡°It¡¯s certainly a fascinating contraption, likely made by a man after my own heart.¡± He started stroking his beard, the glint in his eye only growing sharper and more vibrant.


    ¡°Do you think you can fix them?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°It won¡¯t be easy, immediate, or even guaranteed. Treatment will take a few months at least, as I¡¯ll have to reengineer their bodies and modify their microbiomes. I suspect that most of the survivors will suffer lasting effects, scars resembling cursed wounds, for the most part. I can¡¯t say I¡¯ll be able to do anything for their minds, nor the ones that are particularly far gone, like the cursed one.¡±


    ¡°So uhmmm¡­ does that mean you¡¯ll do it?¡± asked the fox.


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    ¡°For a price, certainly.¡±


    ¡°I knew he was going to ask for something,¡± said Claire.


    "It is only natural," said the old man. His eyes were laser-focused on the squid''s chest, moving up and down as she paced around the room. "As much as I would like to help on account of this being one of Sylvia''s requests, I hardly know this mutual friend of yours. And as she is clearly the primary benefactor, I feel like I might be more inclined to try a little harder if I had a good reason to. Even if she is to be... admired."


    "Stop staring at her breasts," said Claire, with a roll of the eyes.


    "I''ll have you know I''m doing more than just that," chortled the human. "I''m very clearly admiring her biology."


    "Oh, come on, Al! At least come up with a better excuse! That''s literally the same thing!" cried Sylvia.


    "It certainly is not." He reluctantly tore his gaze from the squidgirl''s bosom and, after glancing briefly at Lia and licking his lips, turned back on the pair present in his space. His wand summoned a small vial in the meantime and floated it in the space in front of them. "I''ll tell you what. This right here contains a highly potent aphrodisiac. Feed it to Natalya in secret, and I mig¡ª"


    He shut his lips when a potted plant flew into his potion and spilled its contents all over the floor. The pink liquid sizzled as it touched the old wood, bubbling like a potent acid. An equally pink gas slowly wafted off of the spill, floating into the air and spreading through the room.


    "Oh dear." The celestial repaired the flask with a wave of the wand and drew its contents back inside. The flowerpot was given the same treatment. The earthy, ceramic container was molded back together, and the various bits of dirt channeled back inside. The plant itself, a tiny, growling mirewulf, was offhandedly scruffed and quickly reburied.


    "Be serious," said Claire. "You''re wasting your own time."


    Alfred sighed into his pipe. "Would it kill you to let an old man have a bit of fun?" Taking one last puff, he set the briar down on the nonexistent table in front of him and twisted his lips into a playful pout. It was the sort of expression that was out of place on anything but a teenage girl, but he wore it without an inkling of shame or regret.


    "You can hardly be old without a lifespan,¡± said Claire.


    "That''s where you''d be wrong," he said, with a twinkle in his eye. "I''ll have you know that I''m older than many of the common gods. If not for little Miss Puffynipples locking me up, I''d be a household name."


    "I don''t care."


    "And for the record, there is a reason I take this old, shriveled-up form. Aside from the one you''re thinking, of course."


    "Wait, there is?" asked Sylvia.


    "Naturally." He clasped his hands together and placed them in his lap. "I can''t get anything done without it. My libido gets in the way."


    "Huh?" Sylvia tilted her head, its incline growing by a degree each second. "But aren''t you like super mega horny all the time anyway? I thought that was your whole identity!"


    "I''d say I''m rather tame in this form. Do you remember Grant''s stories? Most of those are from before I learned the whole getting sad and deflated trick."


    "Uhmmmm... right." Sylvia took half a step backwards and hid herself behind her lyrkrian friend.


    "What a cruel mistress, time is." Alfred placed a hand on his chair and faked a sob. "She''s hardly been away from me for four months, and she''s already starting to look at me with disdain." The old man buried his face in his hands, weeping with all the skill of an unemployable actor. "First the catgirls, and now Sylvia! My own flesh and blood! Must all my creations abandon me!?"


    "Yes." Claire crossed her arms as she wrinkled her brow. ¡°Now hurry up and tell us what you want.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re no fun.¡± He leaned back into his chair and breathed a sigh. ¡°Sometimes, you just have to relax. Step back, take a deep breath, and just enjoy life for what it is. You don¡¯t always have to be doing something or rushing towards some silly goal, Claire. The answers will come naturally with time.¡±


    He grabbed an inkwell and a parchment scroll as he lectured her and dipped the latter straight in the former. Rather than staining its side, the thick, black goop crawled across the page¡¯s surface and arranged itself into a series of letters.


    ¡°These are my terms.¡± He rolled the scroll up and handed it over. ¡°I want a state-run temple built right next to one of Flitzegarde¡¯s, with several priests to offer instruction on the commandments I¡¯ve listed here.¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t happening.¡± Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°The goddess of order will have your temple destroyed in a heartbeat.¡±


    Feuds among the gods were not terribly common, but neither were they particularly rare with the factions divided as they were. And though they gave their seal of approval and often served as the conflict¡¯s impetus, the gods themselves abstained; holy wars were strictly mortal affairs, fought by proxy through the temples and people that each deity possessed. It was not just to prevent widespread destruction that the deities took the laid-back approach, but also because their conflicts were rarely as dramatic as their representatives declared. To the divine, war was but the result of a petty squabble, and a crusade a subtle jab of little lasting consequence.


    And even in the event that the two gods did take to the battlefield, as they did once every few hundred years, the victor would often find themselves incapable of ending the loser¡¯s life. Divine politics and possible consequences aside, it was simply too difficult to kill a god for good.


    One did not simply reach level 10,000 without learning the art of escape. And with their full control over the system, they could easily abuse loopholes and glitches to keep kicking and screaming. That was why the goddess of order had imprisoned Alfred in the first place; she didn¡¯t have the means to reliably put out his flame for good.


    His temples, however, could easily be raided. There was nothing stopping even the average Joe from razing them to the ground.


    ¡°Only if I give her good reason,¡± he said, with a confident grin. ¡°You see, that''s the trick when it comes to the orderly types. They can¡¯t do much so long as you work within their rules, and there¡¯s nothing that says I can¡¯t have a temple near one of Flitzegarde¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ I guess you¡¯re technically correct, but are you sure she¡¯s not gonna freak out?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Oh, she certainly will,¡± he said, with a chuckle, ¡°but again, there¡¯s nothing she can do.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s to stop her from marking us?¡± Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°I refuse to take the fall for your lunacy.¡±


    ¡°No need to be worried on that front. Procedure stops that in its tracks too. As the reigning goddess of order, Flitzegarde is only allowed to smite or threaten people that would otherwise throw the world off balance.¡± The god returned his pipe to his lips and lit it with a flick. ¡°And before you ask, my case was just that. I was involving the gods in too many¡­ let¡¯s just say¡­ mortal interactions,¡± he said, with a moist grin.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask.¡±


    ¡°No, but you were going to.¡± He pressed a finger to his brow and breathed a sigh after casting a cursory glance in the scowling qiligon¡¯s direction. ¡°Okay, Claire. How about this? I¡¯ll make you a peace offering, and you stop being so angry and judgemental. That¡¯s all. No strings attached.¡±


    The claim of innocence, of course, only caused the lyrkress¡¯ already suspicious glare to sharpen.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be something you want, I promise.¡± He formed a clump of ice in one hand, and a clump of divinity in the other. ¡°As it so happens, I¡¯m a much better teacher than Griselda.¡± He pressed his hands together, fusing the matter and energy together. The clear solid turned a faint blue as the divine spark pulsed through its frame, infusing it with his divine might. ¡°This would be the most basic operation,¡± he said, ¡°and if my understanding is correct, even it¡¯s starting to give you some trouble.¡±


    Claire lowered her stance. ¡°I thought you said you were too busy to watch me.¡±


    ¡°No, no, I wasn¡¯t watching you.¡± The man shook his head. ¡°Well, maybe a bit, but that¡¯s besides the point. Most of the time, I¡¯m just checking in to see if you¡¯re bathing or sleeping. Or if you¡¯ve finally decided to fuck the cat.¡±


    Grimacing, she turned Boris into a dagger and whipped him at the old man¡¯s face, but he casually caught the lizard with a wave of the wand and gingerly set him back down on the ground.


    ¡°Consider it a celestial¡¯s well-deserved privilege,¡± he said, with a confident smile. ¡°Now, back to what I was saying, you¡¯re going through a set of growing pains as just about everyone else that relies almost strictly on magic. You¡¯re too sloppy.¡± He forged another chunk of divinity-infused ice, but unlike the first, the second was bursting at the seams, creaking and groaning as it cracked and exploded. ¡°You see, child, divinity and magic leverage the same circuits, and they can certainly be used in tandem, but they are not interchangeable. To avoid muddying them, your spells must have a separate input for each type of energy.¡±


    Claire twisted her lips into a frown. ¡°I¡¯ve used them together.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say that you can¡¯t muddy them,¡± he said, with a shrug, ¡°but all that really does is make something unstable, and often something that¡¯ll explode. Sound familiar?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°No?¡± The celestial cocked a brow. ¡°That can¡¯t be right. I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯ve seen you doing it, and the library probably even has logs for when you first started exper¡ª¡±


    ¡°Uhmmmm, Al?¡± Sylvia tentatively raised a paw. ¡°She¡¯s just messing with you.¡±


    ¡°She is?¡± He looked towards the lyrkress, his eyes briefly turning red. ¡°Oh, for the love of¡­¡± Alfred pinched the bridge of his nose before pushing his fingers outwards and lightly massaging his eyebags. ¡°Anyway, you need to separate them out. Pure magic through one end, pure divinity through the other. Everything gets messed up if you let the streams mix. Grow some horns or something if you can¡¯t get things to go where you want them to.¡±


    ¡°What about chaotic divinity?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the same process.¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°Griselda said that ice is orderly by nature. They don¡¯t mix.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± agreed the chronic masturbator, ¡°but it still works, and that shard of yours is all the proof you¡¯ll need.¡±


    For a moment, all eyes in the room were on the centaur¡¯s chest, with the lyrkress wrapping her arms around it and turning away after sensing the pervert¡¯s leer.


    ¡°There¡¯s really no reason to do that,¡± said the human. ¡°Both of us can see right through everything.¡±


    ¡°Hey, wait a second! Al!? Don¡¯t lump me into this!¡± shouted Sylvia.


    ¡°It¡¯s true though,¡± he said, with a shrug. ¡°And for the record, Claire, it¡¯s why she¡¯s never really cared for clothes.¡±


    Claire ignored the rambling demigod as she kept her eyes fixated on the spike. She had certainly noticed that its colour had changed, but she had dismissed it as another sign of growth, given everything else happening to her body. The frosty longmoose was very much a fledgling in the process of becoming an adult. Her true form was a whole ten meters longer than it had been right after her ascension, her ears had grown a little larger in all her forms, and her riders had even found a pair of horns budding underneath her silvery blue hair.


    That was why she had thought nothing, even as reds and blacks were mixed into the once pure blue crystal. In its current state, the shard was a light purple. It would reflect somewhat differently based on the lighting, but she had always thought that it was pretty either way.


    ¡°Is it because it isn¡¯t entirely chaotic?¡±


    ¡°Sounds like I¡¯ve done my part,¡± he said, with a chuckle. ¡°Now, if you don¡¯t have any other business or complaints, I¡¯ll be seeing myself out.¡±


    Claire straightened the angle of her neck and slowly raised her head to meet the man¡¯s gaze. ¡°The squid might reject your terms. I don¡¯t make her decisions for her.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± he said, with a shrug. ¡°I¡¯ve set up the contract to react dynamically, and she can negotiate with it directly by extending it or crossing things out.¡± He floated the scroll over to Sylvia as he pushed himself up from his chair. His hat would have been crushed by the ceiling if he stood at his full height, so he had to remain half-crouched as he shuffled through his home. ¡°Now, I¡¯ll have to excuse myself, unfortunately, but you¡¯re free to make yourself at home and ponder, or perhaps reunite with some old friends while you¡¯re here. Whatever the case, I happen to have a few things to attend to."


    He opened the door as he said the line and stepped outside. Into a room with an infinite number of shelves, and an even larger number of infinite records.

 Chapter 266 - Cat Business V

    Chapter 266 - Cat Business V


    Claire stifled a yawn as she sat up in her bed and groggily rubbed her eyes. It was still early in the morning. The sun had only just poked her bare body above the horizon, but the local roosters were already crowing up a storm, cocking and doodling at the top of their lungs. Her first thought was to stomp over and shut the birds up, but she quickly suppressed the urge with a shake of the head. Such an act of violence would surely have earned her a lecture from the divine protector, and she wasn''t in the mood to entertain her incessant squawking.


    It had only been a week since they had stormed the city and placed Arciel on the throne, but the new queen¡¯s policies had already been set in motion. That was not to say that a wave of change had suddenly swept across the country, or even the city for that matter. Her short-term changes took place on a much smaller scale, the prime example of which was the girls¡¯ new place of residence. No longer were they holed up in Olga¡¯s hotel, imposing on her hospitality as they had for months on end. At Arciel¡¯s behest, they had moved into a brand new district that had practically sprung up overnight.


    The trunk-faced mercenaries populated one half of the community¡ªthe desert people were still technically under the crown¡¯s employ, but no longer were they allowed to treat the castle as their own property¡ªwhile the other featured a cacophony of birds. Though not quite evicted like their long-nosed neighbours, they had ultimately lost their homes in the spire¡¯s heroic sacrifice. Roughly a fifth of the arviad population had chosen to settle in Vel¡¯khagan, while the rest had journeyed roughly two hours north, where a new, government-funded settlement would soon be tailor-made to suit their needs.


    Though rushed along and tasked with a focus on quantity, the elven artisans responsible for the neighbourhood¡¯s construction had clearly considered their demographics. The elephant-occupied northern half was built largely to the humanoid standard. It was really only the doorknobs that stood out at a glance¡ªthere were two sets installed on each entrance, one at waist level and the other much closer to the elephants¡¯ faces. Looking inside the buildings revealed some additional customization. Namely, the toilet paper holders were placed above and behind the seats, and the ceilings were lined with shelves that a human would struggle to reach.


    Perhaps because they were so close to the common standard, the erdbrechers¡¯ homes were easy to distinguish from the thin, vertical houses built for the birds. The wood mages commissioned had upgraded the divine protectees from shacks made of mud and straw to large wooden houses with exaggerated roofs that featured external perches. While there were still some entrances placed on the ground for those unable to fly, most of the large, sliding doors were accessible only by air. As far as interiors went, the birds preferred the open-concept approach. The houses still contained distinct rooms, but a large open central area ensured that the residents could stretch their wings without having to venture outside. Perches and roosts filled the airspace, with additional racks provided so that more of them could be easily installed.


    Claire''s new home was at the intersection between the two sub-districts, its central location a function of Lia¡¯s role as the community mediator. While its property was still a little small for the lyrkress¡¯ tastes, it was certainly an upgrade from the tiny borrowed room. There were a total of six bedrooms on the building¡¯s second floor, three of which had been claimed. The two furthest from the front door belonged to the cat and the snake respectively, while the third, which had only ever been used once, had Arciel''s name written on its tag. Sylvia had been presented the option of claiming one of the spaces as well, but she had chosen to invade her mount''s privacy instead.


    Likewise, Boris had also turned down the idea of owning a man cave. He occupied the living room instead, often dozing off in the sun as it shone through the clear glass panes. Sometimes, he could be found sleeping in the weapon rack with all of Natalya¡¯s new swords, or perhaps even framed on the wall. It depended on his mood, but in general, he preferred locations where he could feel the spring breeze on his cold, metal skin.


    Despite the violent revolution, Vel''khagan was already back to normal. For the average citizen, little, if anything, had changed. There was hardly any damage inflicted to the city itself, with most of it focused on the taller buildings and the noble-owned areas that lay in the castle¡¯s immediate vicinity. The battle''s participants consisted primarily of the city''s residents and professional mercenaries hired at a premium¡ªeven the criminals enlisted were people that worked within its walls. There had been no raiding. Most homes and businesses were still perfectly intact, save for those that had been looted prior to the passing of the crown. The streets were cleaner as well; fewer criminals were able to roam them openly with so many mercenaries and police forces on constant patrol. For those willing to turn a new leaf, it was a blessing, but the syndicates were unhappy. Aiding Arciel was supposed to have bolstered their grip on the nation, but her ruthless task forces diminished it instead. Their bases were not outright raided, but there were always guards stationed nearby, ready to catch and convict their members at a moment¡¯s notice.


    It was a problem that they suffered both on land and at sea; with the task of retaking the country finally relieved from the admiral¡¯s shoulders, the navy was free to return to its usual work. They no longer had to feign weakness, and could fully bully the lowlives with the full extent of their powers.


    Life in the castle appeared to be going rather swimmingly as well. Claire had yet to visit it for herself, but Arciel hadn¡¯t seemed particularly tired when she stopped by the house. It was during said visit that she admitted to accepting Alfred¡¯s terms, the precise details of which she refrained from speaking even when prodded. The only thing she did mention was that they were surprisingly non-predatory considering the number of victims.


    Alfred¡¯s new¡ªand possibly only¡ªtemple was already in the midst of its preliminary construction. It was not placed upon the busy, overcrowded hill with no space remaining, but rather a quaint suburb not too far from the newly built neighbourhood. As promised, it was located right next to one of Flitzegarde¡¯s and built to the specifications outlined in the god¡¯s contract.


    All that was left was for the old pervert to keep his end of the bargain, and that seemed to be at least somewhat underway. The tortured squid girls had been exported to his domain the day after the halfbreeds negotiated the deal. It was a brief delay caused in part by the time of day, and in part because Sylvia had spent all night catching up with her newly pregnant mother and her surprisingly upbeat father before she finally set out again in the morning. Claire had made herself scarce during the conversation and avoided Zelos¡¯ eyes with utmost effort. Despite his kind and welcoming demeanor, the depths of the elf¡¯s gaze still stung of bitterness and accountability. He had clearly not forgiven her and played along for his daughter¡¯s sake. Even though Sylvia had clearly aided in the other paladins¡¯ deaths. It was a clear-cut case of discrimination, but the lyrkress decided that she would forgive him just once.


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    Somehow, Claire found herself as busy as she had been during the coup¡¯s preparation. She no longer had to go around the city guarding people, but the cat had dragged her to and fro all week, visiting the various locations where they could open their business.


    Each candidate was labeled on the map spread across the dining room table. The detailed diagram was technically the government¡¯s property; Claire had snuck it under her cloak when she spotted it in one of the underground conference rooms. Arciel had not exactly been pleased to see it when she visited and asked for it to be returned as soon as they settled on a location. Though she had heaved an exasperated sigh, the qiligon knew that it was anything but genuine. Case in point, she had even sent a mantis-shaped errand boy to deliver the accompanying marble pieces so that they could be used as markers.


    Of the hundred-odd lots available throughout their city, the shopkeepers-to-be had already visited ninety and dismissed a similar number. It was in part because their agent was overzealous. The balding old man that had responded to the advertisement they placed on the job board was either deaf or an idiot. He had shown them properties of all shapes, sizes, and locations, even ones that matched exactly none of the requirements they had listed. To Claire¡¯s dismay, Lia played along with his lunacy and soon began loosening her criteria and broadening her horizons.


    Even with her mind opened, however, the cat was extremely picky. No matter how much she liked a location, she would refuse it unless it met the criteria that her godmother had forced upon her. According to the wildly successful businesswoman, the property had to be near the job board or on a major street, it had to have an enclosed backyard for the purposes of instruction, and most importantly of all, it had to be accessible by both land and sea. They were simple criteria, but surprisingly hard to meet with so few locations vacant and available. Even having seen so many, they had only identified a few good candidates.


    One was in the northern wharf. It wasn¡¯t anywhere near the job board, but it was located on a major route where its visitors were bound to pass. It didn¡¯t have a yard either, but Lia had that weakness covered. She owned a large warehouse just down the street, thanks to her gambling habit, and a local craftsman had confirmed that it could easily be converted into something halfway between a classroom and a gym.


    The second viable choice was a small shop on Main Street. It was close enough to the job board that it wasn¡¯t entirely out of the way; anyone that grabbed a task from the board would barely have to walk or swim to seek guidance on their assignments. The central location meant it came with all the expected amenities as well. There was already a glass tank built into the side of the building, where customers of the underwater variety could still do business, as well as filters installed to keep the water clean and breathable. The only downsides were that it was expensive and that there wasn¡¯t a backyard, but Arciel was footing the bill, and the guard station right behind it was also up for sale¡ªthe local police force was moving to a larger building on the opposite end of the street to accommodate the sudden inflation of its headcount.


    If Claire¡¯s veto was to be ignored, there was technically a third option. The dilapidated manor of House Ariti wasn¡¯t quite a storefront as it stood, but with its owner under arrest and slated for execution, it was a vacant lot in a decent location. The mansion wasn¡¯t directly connected to any waterways, but there was one down the street; anyone that struggled to move on land would only have to drag themselves a few dozen meters, and they could easily set up a bell for any customer that wanted to get their attention without climbing out of the water. The manor was a bit further away from the job board, but being located right beside the red light district, it was a place that many spelunkers would inadvertently pass. The only problem was that they preferred to hang around in the evening, and two of the three girls had unfortunately sharp ears.


    Vel¡¯khagan¡¯s pleasure quarter was one of its most prosperous districts, with most of its value coming not from its salacious services, but rather the various industries built around them. Healers and doctors worked together, combining their powers to keep the region¡¯s venereal diseases in tow. Their services were often considered the district¡¯s entry fee. While some of its lower-class courtesans would take whatever customers came their way, most belonged to larger organisations that filtered their clientele; it was impossible to even get into their buildings without presenting a clean, up-to-date record of one¡¯s sexual health.


    But while they certainly drew in a great number of customers, the medical facilities were stuck playing second fiddle to the school. Gatts-Kermick University was located smack dab in the middle of all the blatant promiscuity. There were even brothels on its campus, the outward designs of which were crafted by the sculptors, painters, and architects gathered from afar to learn and better their trades. It was precisely the students that often worked at the most expensive and exclusive brothels and its headmaster that owned them. Their justification lay in the knowledge that courtesans often entered into the divine collective. Sex was but another art; sometimes a passionate duet, other times a choir where voices would come together to form a heated harmony. But the courtesans, much like the district, found that it was not necessarily the act itself from which the greatest value was derived.


    Some went unsoiled for years on end, offering always their companionship but never quite their embrace. They would demonstrate their abilities in the arts instead, dancing, singing, painting, whatever their customers desired save for the most intimate of acts. It was precisely the rarity of their touch, and oftentimes even the rarity of their availability that drove the men and women that desired them to so frivolously loosen their purse strings.


    It was a set of ideas that never would have flown on Cadrian soil. Any college that so openly flaunted its courses on matters so lewd would immediately be shut down and razed to the ground, let alone one built upon such a conflict of interest. The chairman would have been ordered by the crown to select one of the two businesses as his primary function and to task a corporation with managing the other.


    Recalling one such nobleman, famous for manufacturing cutting boards, Claire slowly pushed herself out of bed, changed into something more casual, and walked into the kitchen. There was a long day ahead, and they would have to finalise their decision, after looking over the last few properties available.


    To start such a busy, important day, she would make sure that every member of the expedition force, including the goddess watching over her from above, would start the morning with a burnt egg and a piece of charcoal toast.

 Chapter 267 - Cat Business VI

    Chapter 267 - Cat Business VI


    Claire breathed a tired sigh as she watched the real estate agent turn the corner. The man¡¯s job was done. The old grug had shown them every available property that wasn¡¯t just a private residence, minus those that could not be accessed by the landlocked cat. All that was left was for them to make a decision.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± asked Lia. Her eyes were on the building situated to their rear¡ªthe final option that the frog had presented.


    ¡°I dunno¡­ I mean, the location¡¯s pretty decent, but it¡¯s kinda run down,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°We¡¯d need to fix it up a bunch for all the fishtanks and stuff to work, but I can probably just do that with a quick spell or something.¡±


    The old playhouse was one of the few locations unfortunate enough to have suffered damage from the battle¡ªa large rock had crashed through its roof and destroyed half of its interior. Only some of the artwork could be salvaged. Most of the paintings, statues, and props had been turned to dust, and its owner was ready to give up on the property outright. He had been intending to find a new venue, and his existing property¡¯s destruction was as good an excuse as any.


    ¡°It¡¯s not bad,¡± said Claire. ¡°But I liked the others better.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± asked the cat, with a surprised blink. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with it?¡±


    ¡°Location.¡± The lyrkress looked down the street as she spoke, focusing for a moment on each of the nearby units. There was a metal pig, a giant cake, and even an elven anti-temple, all familiar scenes with which she had few decent associations.


    ¡°I think the location¡¯s fine,¡± said Lia, as she started down the street. ¡°It¡¯s only a five-minute walk to the job board, and there¡¯s even a weapon shop across the street. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll get plenty of business.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what she meant,¡± said Sylvia, with a giggle. ¡°She doesn¡¯t like how it¡¯s on Fourth Street ¡®cause she got her butt kicked by that one elephant guy that one time.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Claire pinched the fox¡¯s cheeks as she followed the cat. ¡°I completely destroyed him the next time we met.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Lia turned her eyes on the confectionary shop, all the damage to which had already been repaired. The owners had even added another layer to the roof and repainted the whole structure in several layers of pink and white. ¡°That sounds a little bit like you¡¯d be getting your just desserts.¡± The Paunsean¡¯s giggle was met with a chop to the head.


    ¡°Bad cat. No bad puns allowed.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on. That one was good,¡± said the berserker.


    ¡°No. Bad.¡±


    She was lightly smacked again, which to Claire¡¯s dismay, only elicited another fit of laughter. ¡°You¡¯re just being a spoilsport. Right, Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°Mnnn, you¡¯re kinda right? I mean, Claire does need to loosen up, but that pun also kinda sucked.¡±


    ¡°I thought it was hissterical.¡± Natalya pursed her lips into a frown. ¡°I¡¯d like to see you come up with something bette¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stop.¡± The feline¡¯s nose was pinched shut by a pair of ice-cold hands.


    ¡°On, come on, Claire! You really need to start being more pawsitive,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I hate you.¡±


    ¡°That one was pretty good,¡± said Lia, with a giggle. ¡°But I guess with all this material around us, it was bound to be a cakewalk.¡±


    ¡°I hate both of you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Claire!¡± Sylvia leapt onto the lyrkress¡¯ shoulder and gave her ear a hug. ¡°We all know that deep down, you really like this and want us to keep you company furever.¡±


    The Cadrian princess buried a hand into her face and groaned. ¡°Can we please do anything else?¡±


    ¡°We could go get lunch,¡± said Natalya, ¡°but it¡¯s getting a beet late so we might be butter off just skipping it and waiting for dinner.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnnn, it¡¯s not that late!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And I am getting kinda hungry. Maybe we can go to that new fish place that opened up this week? I heard they¡¯re really reeling it in.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it. I¡¯ve had enough.¡±


    She clamped one hand over the fox¡¯s jaw and covered the catgirl¡¯s face with the other. Icy muzzles were crafted upon both their faces, sealing their mouths shut. Sylvia immediately created a projection to speak in her place, but Claire struck the phantom with her tail and stole its mana before it could raise its voice.


    ¡°Bad dog.¡±


    ¡°Aymnn nnhttvadggg!¡±


    ¡°I might¡¯ve believed you if you stopped hounding me with all these awful puns.¡±


    The fox flailed for a solid three seconds before she suddenly stopped, her eyes narrowed suspiciously on the qiligon¡¯s smug grin. ¡°What the heck! You can¡¯t just mess with us like that ¡®cause you¡¯re bored!¡± She spoke as soon as her face covering was loosened enough for her to open her mouth.


    ¡°I can, and I did.¡± Claire stuck out her forked tongue and removed the masks with a snap. They turned into glowing flakes of magic, glimmering momentarily before vanishing in the warm, spring breeze.


    ¡°Somehow, I¡¯m not surprised.¡± The cat put her hands behind her back and lightly bumped her shoulder into the lyrkress¡¯, pushing her half a step to the left. ¡°So are we actually doing fish for lunch? I¡¯ve been hearing a lot of good things about the new place, especially their daily specials.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s go!¡± Sylvia somersaulted off her pet¡¯s head and assumed her fairy form in midair. Her clothes were on by her second flip, with her fluffy tail serving as a censor in the meantime. ¡°Come on! Hurry up!¡± She lifted the other girls¡¯ hands with a pair of vectors and started dragging them by their index fingers. ¡°We¡¯re already super late for lunch! All the good stuff¡¯s gonna be gone if we keep standing around!¡±


    ¡°Uhm, just so you know, Sylvia.¡± The cat pulled back on the fox¡¯s arm, but she was completely overpowered. ¡°We do have a budget this time. Keep that in mind when you order, okay?¡±


    ¡°I-I know!¡± stuttered the half-elf. ¡°Sheesh, Lia! What the heck! You¡¯re making me sound like some sort of glutton.¡±


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    ¡°Well¡­¡± The cat averted her eyes.


    ¡°Hey! What¡¯s that supposed to mean!?¡±


    ¡°It means you are,¡± said Claire. ¡°You ordered the whole menu the last time we got fish.¡±


    ¡°That was one time! And plus, Ciel said I could eat as much as I wanted!¡±


    It was during the post-coup party that the squid had made the offer. It had not been any kind of formal event¡ªthe official coronation party was planned to follow the event in question¡ªbut a private gathering whose guest list included just her closest associates, one unnamed member of which had completely obliterated everything the store had in stock.


    ¡°Just how much can you eat?¡± asked Natalya.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ as much as I want, I guess?¡± Sylvia tilted her head. ¡°I only really stop when I get bored. If I really wanted to, I could probably eat the whole city.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just ridiculous.¡± Natalya bent down and pinched the other girl¡¯s sides, eliciting a confused squeak. ¡°How is any of that supposed to fit in here?¡±


    Claire seconded the query with a vigorous nod. No matter how one stretched the fox, her stomach was an impossible anomaly. She could eat fish ten times her size in just a few bites without any distortion in her frame. It was like everything she put in her mouth would simply vanish.


    ¡°Dunno. I think it¡¯s supposed to be some sort of racial thing?¡±


    Even the weakest Llystletein foxes were born with expandable stomachs. The precise amount varied with the individual and food in question, but each could eat something along the lines of five times their vulpine weight regardless of their active form. The more gluttonous among them developed the ability further, bolstering the amount of weight and storage contained. And as the most fish-motivated fox in the dungeon, Sylvia had gone even further beyond. Her stomach had evolved with her ascensions, ultimately culminating in the form of an infinite abyss.


    ¡°Your mother doesn¡¯t eat that much,¡± said Claire. ¡°You¡¯re just a glutton.¡±


    They arrived at the restaurant right as the accusation was made. It was a large building with a chef-hatted crab serving as its signboard. Perhaps because it was new and popular, or perhaps because it was located right next to the job board, it was still half full, even right between the hours for lunch and dinner. The guests were happily munching away on hearty meals. Thick soups and fried fish seemed to make up the majority of the orders, though there was a basket of bread on each table as well.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a glutton!¡± cried the dog. ¡°And yes she does! She just holds back in front of people because she gets embarrassed easily!¡±


    ¡°She definitely does not get embarrassed easily,¡± muttered Claire. ¡°Else, she¡¯d be less of an obvious psychopath.¡±


    ¡°Huh!? What the heck! I know mom¡¯s a little weird, but she¡¯s not a psycho! Well, maybe a bit, but I swear it¡¯s not that bad!¡± The tiny fairy released her victims and flew up to Claire¡¯s face, arms raised in protest.


    ¡°Your father was literally chained to the wall.¡±


    ¡°I know, but that¡¯s ¡®cause he¡¯s okay wi¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hold on.¡± Claire put a finger in front of the half-fox¡¯s face as they approached the front desk. The host, a kelpfin man in a fine dress, was somewhat flustered, perplexed by the group¡¯s choice of conversation. Still, the professional quickly recovered with a cough and greeted the customers with a smile.


    ¡°Table for three?¡±


    ¡°Yes, please,¡± said Natalya.


    ¡°Right this way then.¡± Still shooting curious glances at the group as they moved through the restaurant, he led them towards a relatively empty part of the shop and placed a wooden block in front of each member. ¡°You can leave that tile marked side up if you¡¯d like the chowder, flip it if you¡¯d rather have the fried fish, or stand it up if you¡¯d like both. Your server will be out to check on you shortly.¡±


    ¡°Wait, is that all?¡± The fairy tilted her head. ¡°I thought this place was supposed to have like a good variety or something.¡±


    ¡°We do for our dinners, but unfortunately, we do not have as many chefs available for lunch.¡±


    ¡°Awwww¡­¡± The fairy fluttered down onto the table and lay sideways atop the table¡¯s rotating tray.


    ¡°I do apologize for any inconvenience caused, but I assure you that both existing choices are absolutely delicious. I do hope that, having tried them, you will consider returning for dinner.¡± He bowed before excusing himself and heading back up front, where another group of customers was already awaiting his service.


    Claire picked her pet up by the tail and straightened her posture as soon as the man left. ¡°Okay. You can continue now.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­¡± Sylvia put her hands behind her back and averted her gaze. ¡°I already forgot what I was going to say.¡±


    ¡°Probably something about your dad,¡± said Natalya, with a sigh. ¡°I really should¡¯ve gone through that portal. Your parents sound really fun, and I wish I got to meet them.¡±


    ¡°Oh uhmmm¡­ I don¡¯t actually think that¡¯s possible ¡®cause catgirls are banned from Llystletein, and I¡¯m not really sure what would happen if you tried,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Anyway! Enough about my parents! Let¡¯s figure out where we¡¯re gonna set up shop.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Lia opened up her notebook and set it on the table. There were four candidates listed on the page, each in the form of a small but fairly representative sketch. Notes were scribbled all over the page, with some placed next to the features they described, and others floating off in the aether. The third entry had a thick line drawn across it, but the rest were still in the running. ¡°Does anyone have any strong feelings about any of them?¡±


    ¡°Oh, oh! Me me me!¡± The tiny fairy flagged the cat down before pointing at the image at the top of the page. ¡°I like the one next to the sea ¡®cause it makes it easy to go fishing and stuff.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good point,¡± agreed Lia. ¡°And with you fishing, we wouldn¡¯t have to pay as much for food. What do you think, Claire?¡±


    The lyrkress paused for a moment before raising a hand to the berserker¡¯s face and flicking her between the glasses.


    ¡°Ouch! What was that for?¡± asked Lia.


    ¡°For being difficult.¡± Claire chased the fairy around with her hands as she spoke, but Sylvia nimbly evaded them all. ¡°We all like different ones.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t said anything yet,¡± blinked the cat.


    ¡°I know. But you clearly like the theatre most. I like the one on Main Street.¡±


    ¡°Well we can just talk it out.¡± Natalya flashed a toothy grin. ¡°Who knows, maybe we¡¯ll convince each other?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no point,¡± said Claire. Her middle finger flew into the catgirl¡¯s forehead again. The second flick had more power behind it and left a bit of a mark. ¡°It¡¯s your shop. So we¡¯ll go with your choice.¡± There was a third attack, laced with just enough bee venom to make the other girl shriek and almost jump out of her seat.


    ¡°Ow!¡± Lia lifted her bangs with one hand and rubbed the sore spot with the other. ¡°I mean, I really appreciate you being so considerate, but why are you flicking me!?¡±


    ¡°Because I don¡¯t like the dogs,¡± said Claire. ¡°The father is too whiny.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Lia adjusted her glasses. ¡°We don¡¯t really need to pick that one if you don¡¯t like it. I wouldn¡¯t mind either of the others.¡± The statement was immediately met with a fourth flick, though it was a lot softer and gentler, like the first.


    ¡°I told you. It¡¯s your shop. So we¡¯ll go with your choice.¡±


    ¡°I know, but we¡¯ll still be running it together, and it¡¯s not like I don¡¯t like the others. I just like this one a little bit better.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but if you don¡¯t pick the one that you really like, then you might end up regretting it when Claire eventually gets bored and runs off,¡± said Sylvia, with a giggle.


    ¡°Oh. Right.¡± The claim only caused the cat¡¯s ears to droop further, but she slowly raised them again as she took a deep breath and put on a strained smile. ¡°I almost forgot that was going to happen.¡±


    ¡°Oh uhmmm¡­ oops. Was I not supposed to bring that up?¡± The half-elf looked between her companions as she moved her hands behind her hips and started backing away. When confident that she had mostly lost their attention, she darted towards the nearest salt shaker and hid herself behind it.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± said Lia, ¡°I¡¯ll just need to show you two how great it is to settle down and have a home.¡±


    ¡°I had a home,¡± said Claire. ¡°And it was better than anything you could possibly find in Vel¡¯khan.¡±


    ¡°Okay, but what about a home without a tyrannical, controlling, lunatic of a father?¡±


    ¡°Shush.¡± Flicking the cat one last time, Claire rested her shoulders on the table and her face in her hands. ¡°I guess it¡¯s decided then. We¡¯ll buy the theater, fix it, and throw the doors open.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± A soft smile blossomed on the cat¡¯s face as she drew a giant check mark next to the chosen property. ¡°I can hardly wait.¡±

 Chapter 268 - Cat Business VII

    Chapter 268 - Cat Business VII


    Claire stifled a yawn as she watched the pens, coins, and papers change hands. The cat was nervous; her tail was straight, her fingers were shaking, and her back was as stiff as a board. She took extra care not to drop her copy of the enfeoffment as she carefully placed it in a wooden frame prepared well in advance. They had made their decision soon after they were shown the final property, but it wasn¡¯t until another two days later that they finally signed the deal.


    The delay was not caused by the usual haggling and feigned disinterest, but rather a third party¡¯s involvement. There was no reason for Arciel to be present. She could have easily followed through on her offer of payment by way of a later reimbursement, but the squid had declared that she would take time out of her schedule to witness both the signing and grand opening. Her involvement had turned the otherwise simple process into a whole ordeal; the shadow mage had to sneak out of the castle without a guard and stealthily make her way through town by slinking from shadow to shadow.


    ¡°I was expecting a more expensive purchase,¡± said the queen in question, her lips twisted into a frown. The maid handling the cash, who the squid had effectively trafficked through the city, was far from relieved of her burden; the coin purse had lost only a fifth of its weight.


    It was not the previous owner¡¯s generosity that drove the low price, but rather the state of the building. Even with the dilapidated theatre requiring a thorough renovation, he upsold the land for the hefty sum of four gold coins, almost twice the market value of an empty lot. It wasn¡¯t exactly a wallet-friendly price, but neither would it have weighed heavily on their finances, even without the squid footing the bill. Claire didn¡¯t know the specifics, but she recalled seeing the cat rubbing her face against a sizable pile of gold just the previous night, when she thought that no one was looking.


    ¡°Yeah, I know, right!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I still think we should¡¯ve gotten the one by the sea.¡±


    ¡°You just want to eat fish every day,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Shhh! That¡¯s supposed to be a secret!¡±


    Arciel watched over the exchange with an amused grin, her fan propped up against her chin the whole while. ¡°It has been far too long since I was treated to this dynamic.¡±


    The statement was met, of course, with violence. Claire prodded her several times in the side before finally raising her perfectly deadpan voice. ¡°We saw each other half a week ago.¡±


    ¡°We did,¡± said the witch, with a nod. ¡°And that was half a week that I spent without any semblance of good company. There are few that would speak openly with me in the castle, and even fewer willing to do it in broad daylight.¡±


    She made her best puppy-dog eyes, bending over and looking up at her friend with the cutest pout she could. But again, she was met with a prod.


    ¡°Because it undermines your authority,¡± Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°Stupid squid.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, but I would much rather deal with the consequences of that should they arise than spend my time all alone in a hostile palace.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°Your fault for becoming queen. We could have assassinated her and been done with it.¡±


    ¡°It is not as if I had ever truly wanted the crown. I simply could not be so irresponsible as to allow my family¡¯s nation to be swallowed by its neighbours.¡±


    ¡°Mmnnnn¡­ maybe you can shove onto one of your cousins or something when Al¡¯s done,¡± said Sylvia.


    The squid sank into thought, lightly tapping her fan against her chin as she twisted her lips into a frown. ¡°That is certainly an option I shall be considering. But their sanity remains in question. We shan¡¯t know if it has been restored until their rehabilitation is complete.¡±


    ¡°What are you guys talking about?¡± Natalya walked across the property¡¯s foyer and joined the group chatting by the door.


    ¡°Nothing important,¡± said Claire. ¡°Are you done?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± The cat raised the building¡¯s deed with a shy smile and hid the bottom half of her face. ¡°It¡¯s all ours now.¡±


    ¡°Yours.¡±


    ¡°Ours,¡± said the cat, firmly. ¡°I¡¯ve put everyone else as co-owners. Maybe that way, you¡¯ll be a little less inclined to run away.¡±


    ¡°Maybe. Maybe not.¡± Claire looked towards the previous owner, who was still chatting with the agent on the other side of the lobby. ¡°Why are they still here?¡± From what she gathered from their conversation, their presence was entirely unnecessary. Their exchanges were centered around the recent news, with each offering his speculation and advice to the other.


    ¡°They should be leaving soon.¡± The cat smiled awkwardly. ¡°They seemed really into it, so I couldn¡¯t bring myself to interrupt them.¡±


    ¡°I can.¡± The reckless moose began walking over, but Lia grabbed her by the wrist before she could engage.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Claire, relax,¡± said Lia. ¡°It¡¯s not like they¡¯re causing us any harm.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t renovate while they¡¯re here. The stupid squid has to leave soon. We came up with some pretty good ideas last night, and this is her only chance to see them.¡±


    ¡°You did?¡± Lia tilted her head.


    ¡°Yeah!¡± chimed Sylvia. ¡°Uhmmm, one sec, I got an idea actually¡­¡± She took a moment to focus on her surroundings, before casting her spell and forming a bubble around the unwelcome guests. ¡°There! Done!¡± The fox nodded contently. ¡°Now, they shouldn¡¯t notice anything even if we start changing everything.¡±


    ¡°However did you manage that?¡± asked Ciel.


    ¡°Oh uhm, it¡¯s simple really. I just made them immune to illusions for a while with one of my buffs.¡± She clapped her tiny hands together and grinned as she focused her eyes on the cat. ¡°Do you wanna see one of the fun ones or the boring ones first?


    ¡°The fun ones, I guess?¡± said Lia.


    ¡°Mmk! One super fun whatever-the-heck-this-shop-is-supposed-to-be coming right up!¡±


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    The orange furball leapt onto the ground and twirled as a series of quick, upbeat notes escaped the depths of her throat. Though fast, they were deep, much lower than anything to be expected of a critter so small. The ringing vibrations resonated within the listeners'' minds, numbing them as the scene was suddenly distorted. The building was replaced by what looked to be an ancient ruin. Its already half-destroyed walls transformed with piles of rubble stacked high, their gravity-defying structures possible only because of the magical letters inscribed into their frames. The roof retained its hole, wide enough to see the sky from anywhere in the building, and the fish tank was converted to a pool, a quaint wellspring with a series of stones placed around its perimeter. There was an artifact manning the front desk¡ªan ancient golem with Boris¡¯ face, built with lost technologies and armed with blasters and cannons.


    ¡°This is the first thing we came up with,¡± said the fox. ¡°Oh and the golem thingy was Claire¡¯s idea. It¡¯ll ask the customers a riddle and start attacking them if they mess up.¡±


    ¡°Ignoring how awful that would be, is any of this even possible?¡± asked Lia, with a blink.


    Sylvia put a hand on her chin. ¡°Uhmmm¡­ we probably can¡¯t build it for real, but it¡¯s not like it matters. We could just make it a permanent illusion zone thing.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ It probably wouldn¡¯t leave a good impression on our customers if we fiddled with their minds.¡± She paused for a moment before nodding. ¡°Whatever we end up doing has to be possible even without any magic.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! That rules out like all the fun ones!¡± The fox puffed up her cheeks. ¡°Normal buildings are boring.¡±


    The illusion faded as she voiced her complaint; the runic stones faded back into wood, and the pool turned back into an ordinary glass box.


    ¡°I know they might be a bit bland, but they¡¯re also genuine.¡± Natalya crouched down in front of the fox and lightly scratched her ear. ¡°And I really want to sell the idea that we¡¯re honest and reliable.¡±


    Sylvia blinked a few times before tilting her head. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that mean having Claire help out is like, a really bad idea? She¡¯s a total slimeball.¡±


    ¡°I am not,¡± huffed the princess.


    ¡°Yeah, you are! Did you already forget about the time that you were pretending to help Dad¡¯s friends even though you were working for Alfred? You literally tricked that weird purple guy whose name I can¡¯t remember into letting you kill him!¡±


    ¡°Frederick. The goblin king.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, him! You basically made him so sad and disappointed and horrified that he gave up on life!¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°I didn¡¯t see any other way to kill him. His skin was too tough.¡±


    ¡°See!¡± Sylvia pointed a paw at the accused. ¡°She¡¯s a total slimeball. She¡¯s just gonna give people she doesn¡¯t like bad advice so they end up dying somewhere!¡±


    ¡°T-that shouldn¡¯t be a problem,¡± said Lia. ¡°I was just going to ask her to be a receptionist and handle most of the consulting work myself.¡±


    ¡°If I may, I believe that to be just as ill-advised,¡± said the witch. ¡°She will surely resort to violence in the case that she is tasked with dealing with an unreasonable customer.¡±


    ¡°The three of you do realise that I¡¯m listening, right?¡± muttered the lyrkress.


    ¡°Yup!¡± said the fox.


    ¡°We know,¡± said the cat.


    ¡°Naturally,¡± said the squid.


    In trying to defend herself, the moose was immediately met with a trio of accusing stares. She responded with her usual blank look, her eyes resting on each of theirs for a brief moment before she twisted her lips into a trembling pout. Her eyes started to water, and her hands shook as well, but she dismissed the act after looking around again and finding no one fooled.


    ¡°You¡¯re all awful,¡± she said, with a more genuine pout. ¡°What if I was really sad?¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯d probably be hitting us instead,¡± giggled Natalya.


    ¡°That is a scenario easily imagined,¡± said Arciel, ¡°and felt as well,¡± as she moved a hand to her cheeks.


    ¡°Mmmnnn, I know it doesn¡¯t really sound like her, but Claire actually gets pretty expressive when she¡¯s down,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Like this one time, I kinda like, accidentally disappeared without saying anything, and sh¡ª¡±


    A hand was immediately plastered across the fox¡¯s face, its owner¡¯s eyes narrowed and screaming bloody murder.


    ¡°Another word out of you, Sylvia Redleaf, and I swear, I will make sure you never speak again.¡±


    The words themselves were threatening, but the faint blush on her otherwise stoic face told a completely different story. Her tormentor could feel her lips twisting into a smug grin. For once, she was in control. And the sadistic strings in her heart were screaming at her to take full advantage.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry! I won¡¯t tell anyone about all the times you¡¯ve spent clinging to me and crying.¡±


    The vixen cackled, even as a bright red moose grabbed her by the neck and violently shook her back and forth; the minor brain trauma was well worth the resulting moment.


    Similar interactions continued throughout the day, with Arciel staying until the group was able to settle on a design. In the end, they decided that renovation was pointless. The whole building was torn down and rebuilt as soon as the previous owner vacated the property. Where there was once an amphitheatre, the magical fox constructed a large, rectangular gymnasium. Massive rear end aside, the building¡¯s facade was made into that of a tavern. It was a design shared by half the reception hall. There were tables and seats present for those sitting around, as well as a refreshment corner and a large blackboard. The idea was for it to eventually serve the same purpose as the city¡¯s employment center, in the case that the shop ever grew popular enough to take on the role of curation. That last bit had been Arciel¡¯s suggestion, and a fresh goal for the cat to work towards.


    On the other end of the entrance hall was a large counter with several chairs placed behind it. Behind that was another layer of rooms. Some were warm, private spaces meant for foxnaps, sporting single beds, bathrooms, and nightstands, while others were kept cold, so that they could be used to store the various goods that the store planned to stock. There was even a sick bay at the far end. Natalya had reasoned that, with a training ground present, they required a medical facility for anyone that needed to rest and recuperate.


    Sylvia was on staff as the resident healer and was in charge of taking care of whatever she determined to be a reasonable fix. Whether that metric was accurate, only time would tell, but Natalya had more confidence in her than the rest of the girls¡ªand Boris for that matter¡ªcombined.


    Finally, there were the shelves, where they would stock common goods for adventurers, and the massive counter used for reception and consulting. It was wide enough for multiple people to work it at once and extended directly into an underwater space. The clear glass tank, visible beneath the floor, was directly connected to both the arena and the canal in the street. It even had its own entrance, equipped with an added mechanism for the group¡¯s only non-swimmer to lock it from above the water.


    Both the aboveground space and the massive tank were modestly decorated, sporting a few weapons and artworks so as not to give the impression of poverty while also avoiding the bourgeoisie attitude inferred from a more expensive collection. The battleworn blades and hanging illustrations were fox-signed, with a vixen-shaped print pressed into the blades'' tangs, and an equally fluffy signature carved into the paintings¡¯ bottom right corners. The oil-based canvases she used looked ready to dissolve beneath the waves, but that was hardly anything a little extra magic couldn''t easily fix.


    As for the name, Lia had long decided on The Misguided Adventurers'' Consulting Company. It was a little on the nose for Claire''s taste and frankly far too long for any purpose¡ªthe adjective in the title was entirely unnecessary¡ªbut Natalya had insisted on keeping it, labelling the scheme something of a Paunsean tradition.


    The signboard was one of the few things that Sylvia didn''t make. She very well could have forged it with her magic, but Olga had already commissioned a local blacksmith to hammer it out. It would be another few days before he was finished; the elven metalworker in question was planning on crafting each letter individually so that they could be freely arranged at Natalya¡¯s discretion. And it was only on said board that the group was still waiting.


    Just a few more blinks, and the cat would be open for business.

 Chapter 269 - Cooks and Crooks

    Chapter 269 - Cooks and Crooks


    The next few days were spent running around the city. They not only had to advertise the shop ahead of its official launch, but also purchase the goods meant to line their shelves. They didn¡¯t plan to stock much¡ªthe shop¡¯s consulting and instructional services were meant to be its main draw, but they found it a somewhat painful process regardless. They had to get in touch with suppliers willing to offer their products at a low enough price for them to be resold at a profit. Such a goal was most typically accomplished by purchasing and peddling. To transport an item away from its point of origin was to increase its value, but the option simply wasn¡¯t available, given that Natalya was looking to make her purchases from within the city.


    It was a problem that still could have been easily overcome if she was able to buy in extreme bulk, but the goods that they sought to purchase were not so easy to stock. There was hardly such a thing as a successful smithy that kept dozens of skinning knives on hand. While the items were not unpopular, their sale was limited by the associated demographic¡ªhousewives were far more likely to purchase fruit knives instead, and there were far more of those than there were adventurers in town.


    The alternative was then to establish good relations that came hand in hand with generously lowered prices. Such a feat was typically a difficult and lengthy process. And if she hadn¡¯t given up and produced her godmother¡¯s recommendations, Lia surely would have struggled with that as well. Olga¡¯s letters immediately got her into many of the local merchants'' good graces. She wasn''t quite given the same treatment as a long-time business partner, and some even refused to do trade on account of jealousy, but at the end of the day, she was able to put together a half-decent supply chain for everything that she had planned to stock. The shop''s shelves would be lined with the various items that nearly every adventurer carried on hand. Portable flint sets for starting fires, dried rations for use on the road, and camping equipment for both land and sea, among others.


    While she went about that part of the business, Claire and Sylvia were tasked with spreading word of the shop''s grand opening. For the most part, the assignment involved walking around the city with a sign floating behind them. Lia had tried to convince the lyrkress to wear the board like a dress at first, but she caved in to the subsequent judging glare and allowed her to drag it along instead.


    "This is a waste of time," grumbled Claire. She was walking around the northern docks, magically spinning the sign around and glaring at anyone that looked even remotely like a mercenary or adventurer. It wasn''t a bad day for a stroll¡ªthe sun goddess was beaming overhead, shining her warm afternoon rays upon the mortals below, the goddess of the wind was blowing gentle kisses across the sea, and the god of the abyssal depths was calm, locked in a moment of zen¡ªbut she was frustrated regardless.


    The task was but an exercise in futility. They were certainly getting a number of looks, but there weren''t enough combatants around the town for it to be worth the effort. The few that did see the sign openly mocked it and scoffed at the idea of being given advice. Even those more receptive were not very enthused, with many of them stating that they would much rather speak to a reputable broker. But of course, such was the nature of the demographic. Adventurers bet their lives on the information that they were given, and if there was no good reason for them to switch providers, it was unlikely that they ever would.


    ¡°Yeah, it doesn''t really look like they like us much,¡± said the fox. ¡°See, I told you the illusions were a good idea.¡±


    ¡°That would just make it even more suspicious,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°No, it wouldn¡¯t!¡±


    Half ignoring the response, Claire rolled her eyes and tightened her grip on the fox. Because the snake was in her tiniest form, her hat couldn¡¯t quite fit on her head, even if her ears were leveraged for extra stability. With her usual spot ruled out, the vixen had little choice but to remain in the lyrkress¡¯ arms. She was held like a stuffed toy, hugged tightly to her chest, where she found herself the victim of many an irrational squeeze.


    It was not a part of the plan for the qiligon to have turned so small, but rather a means of earning experience. The docks were filled with criminals hoping to make a quick buck, and she had already disposed of two such kidnappers during her shift. Both appeared to be affiliated with some group or other, and while locating their headquarters would surely have provided an ample killcount, Claire had ultimately chosen to do her job. She wasn¡¯t exactly proud to be the cat¡¯s new receptionist, but neither did she want to let her down, at least not when she seemed so enthusiastic about everything working out as planned.


    ¡°Do you have any other ideas?¡± The moose lifted the fox a little higher and rested her chin on top of her head. ¡°Besides using illusions.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnnn¡­ I dunno,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But we¡¯re gonna need to do something to knock their socks off. At this rate, no one¡¯s gonna notice us unless it¡¯s super flashy.¡±


    ¡°We might just be in the wrong place. We could try the area around the job board.¡± They had chosen the northern wharf because it was one of the locations with the most adventurer traffic. People were coming and going, boarding the various ships that would take them to their quests¡¯ destinations. The problem was that most of the individuals in question were of the more experienced variety. There were few if any interested in the basic sword fighting and monster slaying courses that Lia had included on the ad.


    ¡°Mmmmnnn, I dunno,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Hanging around the job board is probably just gonna get us more of the same.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t as if the cat had no clout. Vel¡¯khagan had been their party¡¯s base for long enough that their names were at least somewhat known. They had completed a wide variety of jobs for an equally wide variety of people, and the others in their trade learned not to bother them after witnessing the delivery of a leviathan¡¯s corpse. Some had even learned, after the most recent event, that they were affiliated with the queen. But that was about the extent of their fame. It was largely for the group¡¯s aesthetic that it was idolised, and they were discussed most often by lecherous men and starry-eyed little girls.


    ¡°We might as well go home,¡± said Claire. ¡°We¡¯re not getting anything done.¡±


    Veterans simply saw no benefit in attending her lessons. Like other non-instructors, Lia could boost her pupils¡¯ class and skill levels to 10 at most; only those wet behind the ears could possibly see any tangible benefit. Beginners, however, were unlikely to know of their inadequacies, let alone pay for classes when they could simply train themselves for free. When confronted with the obvious dilemma, the cat only smiled and told the others not to worry. She seemed to have something or other in mind, but she had refused to disclose whatever it was.


    ¡°Oh, come on! I''m telling you! We just need to magic it up and sing a bit and stuff!¡±


    ¡°You''re just going to confuse people.¡±


    ¡°Huh? How? It¡¯s just gonna be cool, not confusing!¡±


    The lyrkress squeezed the furball, just hard enough to force the air out of her lungs. ¡°It used to be a playhouse. We need to differentiate ourselves. Idiot.¡±


    ¡°I''m not an idiot! You''re just overthinking it!¡± Sylvia puffed up her cheeks and lightly batted her mittens against the arms restraining her.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡°You''re not thinking hard enough,¡± said Claire, with another squeeze.


    They continued idly walking through the district as they chatted, turning effectively at random until they found themselves walking along its main street. It was a particularly wide walkway with a large canal in the middle. There was more than enough space in the water for a galleon-sized boat, and two large carriages could easily fit side by side on each shore. The road''s halves were connected by a series of drawable stone bridges, often wider than they were long to support the heavy traffic.


    ¡°I know Ciel said that there were gonna be lots of people trading lots of stuff, but this is kinda like, way too much,¡± said Sylvia, as she looked over the busy street. ¡°I swear there¡¯s more people here on this street than there were in the whole city in the winter!¡±


    ¡°It''s almost as busy as one of Valencia¡¯s,¡± agreed Claire.


    While in the rest of the city, there were typically more people than vehicles, the port saw a much closer count. There were carts and coaches all over, transporting goods to and from the various seafaring vessels docked at the fifty-odd stations available. The district had practically been empty in the winter, when the goddess of peaceful respite froze the seas, but it had sprung to life with the greenery. Primrose was back in power for the next three seasons, and while she was only the main goddess of the fall, when nature''s bounty was ripe for the harvest, she freely bestowed her blessings whenever she was free from the winter¡¯s icy gaol.


    "Mmmnnn¡­ You think with this many people, someone might actually be interested?¡±


    ¡°Probably not.¡±


    Claire took a deep breath and allowed the salty spring breeze to permeate her lungs. Formalities dictated that the second and third months lay within the rain god''s domain, and that the annual showers therewithin stemmed from an uncontrolled release of his power. The mourning of his beloved, stolen by Xekkur''s one-eyed blade, prompted sporadic storms throughout the season. It was far from the most mature behaviour, but he could hardly be condemned when it was precisely his lament that nourished dry soil beds the world over.


    His tears came with as many blessings as it did floods and misfortunes. In regions too heavily affected, his priestesses¡ªall of whom were chosen for their tall, wide frames and nonexistent breasts¡ªwould offer their dedication until his melancholy faded. And they were not the only ones burdened. Wood and water mages were sure to be swimming in work all season. There were even children cashing in on the overflowing demand, with some using their spells to drain carriages on the side of the road for a few quick coins.


    A member of one such group, a haggard, dark-skinned elf with a worn leather hat and a pair of sunken cheeks, glared daggers at Claire as she made her way down the street. He raised a wooden block of some sort, marked with a lizardman¡¯s skull, but she ignored him outright, even as he came stomping towards her. He was followed by a ragtag group dressed in equally ragtag clothes, a kelpfin with damaged glasses, a huskari girl with white and blue eyes, and a timid-looking bear cub wearing a pair of oversized shoes.


    ¡°Hey! What''s the big idea?¡± he shouted. ¡°We''ve got this street booked all day!¡±


    Claire looked at him for half a moment before continuing on her way. The urchin started screaming some nonsense or other, so she moved the sign between them and actively blocked him from her view. But while she considered him out of sight and out of mind, the rest of the world was not so kind.


    An angry frog of a man hopped out of a nearby alley as soon as he saw the commotion. But rather than joining the kids¡¯ side, the grug took one look at Claire before smacking the ringleader upside the head.


    ¡°Ow! Hey! What the hell, asshole!?¡±


    "Are you stupid, kid? Does she look like one of you?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Of course she does.¡± The boy¡¯s eyes glowed as he spoke, shimmering with magical light. ¡°She¡¯s a kid with a ton of magic and a sign!¡± The bear pulled on his shirt, as if begging him to stop, but it was disregarded.


    The indignant statement only earned the boy another smack. It wasn¡¯t a very hard hit¡ªfar gentler than the attacks Claire often launched on her allies, but the boy teared up regardless. ¡°Look at her clothes, you dolt! Or maybe learn to fucking read!¡±


    Unlike the urchins, who were wearing cheap fabrics with patches applied all over, Claire sported a clean dress woven of fine silk, the design of which was borrowed straight from her wardrobe back home.


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± The boy averted his gaze. ¡°Right.¡±


    ¡°Right, my ass! How many times have I told you idiots, stop bothering people!¡± He smacked the boy a third time. ¡°Now hurry up and run off before I hit you again! That goes for the lot of you!¡±


    ¡°Alright, alright, I¡¯m going, so lay off already, jerk!¡± With one hand rubbing his sore head, the boy begrudgingly trudged away.


    His companions followed behind him, with the kelpfin and the huskar silently apologizing to the pirate on their way out, and the bear bowing his head in shame. Most of the kids kept their eyes on the road, knowing that they were liable to being trampled if they weren¡¯t careful. Only the group¡¯s fuzziest member would occasionally turn back and glance behind him.


    ¡°Now, I know those brats aren¡¯t the smartest, but they did have a point.¡± The cat-pawed frogman glanced briefly at Claire¡¯s sign before continuing. ¡°I don¡¯t know whose kid you are, but anyone that wants to do business up here has to go through the don. So either you can come with me and get registered, or we¡¯ll have some big scary men throw you out.¡± He flashed a toothy grin. But it was just as forced as the rest of his act. ¡°¡®Course, if your parents have a permit, then that¡¯s fine too. You¡¯ll just needa prove it.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°I thought the new queen banned gangs from claiming zones.¡±


    The man raised both his paws and took half a step back. ¡°Woah there, princess. Careful with the accusations there, okay? Sure, we were a gang not all that long ago, but now, we¡¯re an official, state-run bureau.¡± He pointed to the Vel¡¯khanese flag painted on his striped, skull bandana. ¡°So you can either scram or sign up, your choice.¡±


    The threat was followed by a moment of silence, with the lyrkress tilting her head and the man staring expectantly.


    ¡°Or what?¡±


    ¡°Or we kick you out?¡± said the half-stupified frog. ¡°I told you, didn¡¯t I? We¡¯ve got some big strong guys that¡¯ll mess you up real bad.¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t be able to touch me.¡±


    The pirate pressed a paw against his absurdly wide face and groaned. ¡°Look, kid. I don¡¯t know who your parents are, or what you think you¡¯re trying to pull, but you clearly don¡¯t understand how things work around here.¡± He moved his fingers into his mouth and blew a whistle. It was loud and crisp, ringing through the halfbreed¡¯s ears.


    A pair of large kelpfin emerged from a nearby alleyway soon after. It was difficult to gauge their relative strengths from their outward appearances alone; kelpfin ascensions had few distinguishing traits, and Claire wasn¡¯t quite familiar enough with their silhouettes and patterns to pick them out.


    Not that she would have cared in any case.


    ¡°You get it now, kid? This is your last chance.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t see how they matter.¡±


    ¡°Alright, fine, you asked for it.¡± With another sigh, the grug gestured with his fingers and ordered the bodybuilders to advance. ¡°You heard her boys. Get her out of here.¡±


    The bodybuilders looked skeptically at each other before shrugging and proceeding with their assignment. They advanced slowly, as if to give the girl a chance to run, but Claire stood her ground, arms crossed and fox still in her arms until they were nearly up in her face.


    ¡°Sorry, but orders are orders,¡± said one.


    ¡°No hard feelings, kid. It¡¯s just our job,¡± added the other.


    Shrugging, Claire magically grabbed one of the men and launched him into the air. He went well above the buildings before he was finally released and allowed to plummet. The poor shark crashed into several signs on his way down, breaking his tail, before finally splashing into the water.


    Dozens of eyes immediately flew to the commotion¡¯s source, where they found a child-sized Claire in the middle of subduing the other pirate. A tail was delivered straight to his gut each time he tried to move, leaving him just pained enough to keep his fins wrapped around his ribs. When she was confident that enough eyes were on her, Claire stepped on top of the man¡¯s body and raised her sign above her head.


    ¡°If you want to learn to fight, come to the new shop on Fourth Street. We open in two days.¡±


    With her message stated, she stepped off the man¡¯s body and walked away, leaving the frozen pedestrians and coach riders to murmur among themselves.

 Chapter 270 - Cooks and Crooks II

    Chapter 270 - Cooks and Crooks II


    Breakfast was already cooking by the time Claire awoke. She could hear something or other sizzling away in the usual pan as the flames gently crackled through the yet lightless morning. The house itself was slowly heating up as the dish¡¯s herbal aroma spread, tickling her forked tongue with faint hints of its flavour. It was not Sylvia or Natalya working the stove. Both were still sound asleep, with the fox curled up beside her, and the cat in the other room.


    It wasn¡¯t Boris either. As funny as it was to imagine the lizard standing upright, his metallic body adorned with an apron and a chef¡¯s hat, she knew that he was far too lazy to even make the attempt. And with all the other possibilities eliminated, she found herself slowly recalling that Arciel had mentioned something about being present on the shop¡¯s opening day. They were scheduled to unlock its doors after an early lunch, when traffic in the city was at its busiest, and the lyrkress surmised that the squid had likely ordered someone to prepare the early lunch in question. Perhaps even the personal chef she had selected soon after she declared the castle her home.


    After taking a moment to make herself presentable, and another to magically remove any waste from her body, the lyrkress slowly navigated her way through the freshly minted building and headed downstairs. The first thing she saw was a plethora of ingredients, a veritable buffet of uncooked goods set out on the table, fancy meats, some fresh and some cured; vegetables and grains, many of which were unfamiliar; and a whole kitchen¡¯s worth of spices, all haphazardly stacked together.


    The former princess was the only figure present in the space, standing over the pot with a pair of tongs in one hand and a heavily embroidered ladle in the other.


    ¡°Good morning, Claire.¡±


    She was wearing an apron atop her usual attire. Unlike most everything else, it was not one of the luxury goods she had prepared for the occasion, but rather something already in the kitchen. The evidence of its ownership was clear from the cat-shaped paw prints running along its hem.


    ¡°Good morning.¡± The lyrkress stared blankly for a few seconds before finally tilting her head. ¡°I remember you saying that you didn¡¯t know how to cook.¡±


    ¡°And you would be correct,¡± declared the witch, with all the confidence in the world. She flipped the handle upside down and brought it to the bottom of her face, as she often did with her fan. ¡°However, I have learned to craft a specific dish for the occasion.¡±


    Claire slowly shifted her eyes between the squid and the ingredients.


    ¡°This is a waste of food. You should¡¯ve brought one of the castle¡¯s chefs.¡±


    ¡°How rude,¡± huffed the queen. ¡°I would have you know that I have spent every night under the tutelage of my personal cook, just so that I might personally prepare a full course meal that might satisfy your palate.¡±


    It was a statement that immediately saw the bloodkraken¡¯s forehead greeted with a flick.


    ¡°Nice try. I¡¯m not joining your harem.¡±


    ¡°It was not my intention to make an appeal,¡± said the squid, with a cough.


    ¡°Liar.¡±


    Another flick.


    Finally satisfied with the glowing red mark on the squid¡¯s forehead, Claire crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. ¡°Where¡¯s the bug? I would¡¯ve expected you to bring him.¡±


    ¡°And I would have,¡± said the queen, with a small frown, ¡°had he not been in the midst of recovery.¡±


    Claire tilted her head, slowly bringing it to an incline of exactly 17.6 degrees. ¡°Recovery?¡± It was difficult to imagine the mantis being injured. There wasn¡¯t much that could put a dent in a rhiar warrior over five hundred, let alone leave him in a state requiring rest and recuperation.


    ¡°There is no need for concern. He has simply undergone an operation to become a eunuch, such that he may be left in charge of the management of my harem.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Claire was not unfamiliar with the concept of using a cursed weapon to mutilate a trusted retainer¡¯s genitals. While it was not practiced in Cadria in particular, the rear palace system was one of the more popular. Paunse, Ingrand, and Svensland were just a few of the many northerly countries that maintained the custom to the present day. The thorae had once sported something similar before they were taken into the Cadrian fold, and even now, traces of it remained; the rich and powerful among the insectoid ogres still kept three or four wives at a time.


    So long as the eunuch in question was in a god¡¯s good graces, it was unlikely for the injury to be truly permanent. Any high level priest could remove it with a simple third tier blessing. The ease naturally led to the conclusion that the system was not secure, but rarely was the loophole a problem. Most experienced clergymen knew better than to risk the wrath of a monarch, and refused to fix a eunuch¡¯s wounds lest the request was accompanied by written permission from the associated harem master. There was also generally a tacit understanding between master and servant, wherein the eunuchs were allowed to extract and wed girls from the harem, so long as they weren¡¯t the ruler¡¯s favourites.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you have asked someone else to do it?¡± asked Claire. ¡°Like the child-molesting admiral.¡±


    Arciel mirrored the moose¡¯s held tilt and blinked a few times before finally smacking her ladle into the palm of her hand. ¡°Matthias is the perfect candidate. I had forgotten that you were not aware, though I suppose I should not have assumed, given the rarity with which he speaks of anything but combat, but he does not plan to have any more children.¡±


    ¡°Any more? He has children?¡±


    ¡°Seven of them,¡± said the squid, with a giggle. ¡°It is certainly rather difficult to imagine, given his youthful appearance and irresponsible behaviour, but he has been a knight for a very long time, and he has been serving me personally since the early days of my childhood.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Claire pursed her lips into a frown. ¡°I had a knight like that too. But he wasn¡¯t anywhere as respectable.¡±


    Arciel raised a brow as she idly tended to the contents of her pan. ¡°I would not have expected your father to have assigned you a weaker guard, but neither do I find it beyond the scope of my imagination. It certainly does seem rather Cadrian for him to have entrusted you with your own safety.¡±


    The snake shook her head. ¡°Father is the only one stronger than him.¡±


    ¡°Then it was the strength of his character that was to be called into question?¡±


    ¡°He was a lazy pervert that had the gall to lecture me.¡±


    ¡°Oh, how very traumatic.¡± The squid¡¯s sarcasm immediately earned her another flick.


    ¡°Shush. I don¡¯t want to hear it from someone with a trustworthy knight.¡±


    Claire assaulted the queen with a barrage of similar attacks, hitting her at least a dozen times before she finally let her off. It was only then, after a few much lighter prods, that she peered over the taller girl''s shoulder and looked at whatever it was she was working to prepare.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Her first impression was one of red. It was something with a watery consistency dyed a deep scarlet by a strange fruit. There were several spices mixed in, but she struggled to identify them at a glance.


    ¡°Is that supposed to be some sort of jam?¡±


    ¡°It is a sauce.¡± Ciel lifted the pot off the flame and set it aside. After carefully placing it atop a fireproof cloth, she replaced it with a particularly large pan filled with large, round globs. ¡°And I shall be cooking these meatballs in it shortly. Now, before you find yourself too tempted to spy and criticize, I suggest that you go elsewhere so that you might not ruin the surprise.¡± The umbral witch grabbed one of Claire¡¯s shoulders with her tongs and spun her around. She was given a bit of a push, a light shove that guided her out of the dining room and back into the hall.


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    Lips pursed into a frown, the lyrkress walked into the living room as she pondered a way to spend the time. Her first thought was to go on her morning flight, but the fox was still asleep, and she was sure to kick and scream if she was left behind. There was always the option to meditate and work on her magic and divinity, but she changed her mind when she spotted Boris out of the corner of her eye. The lazy lizard was already awake, slowly blinking at her from across the room.


    She returned the greeting, slowly blinking back at the extraneously leggy snake before throwing him over her shoulder and walking out the front door.


    It took roughly ten minutes of wandering for her to reach her destination. The matriarch¡¯s house was located smack dab in the middle of the erdbrechers¡¯ half of the suburb. It was easily distinguished from surrounding buildings by virtue of its size; the property was nearly a whole acre, fenced off completely with thick boards of wood.


    There was a storm of metal clangs coming from within the backyard, or more specifically, the large, open-concept gymnasium situated behind the main building. The custom-built structure had a large slanted roof that offered some protection from the elements, but no walls to speak of, only large pillars that ran around its outer edge.


    Claire considered hopping the fence, but soon determined the behaviour too unladylike and made her way to the front gate instead. The door swung open before she could approach or knock and revealed a somewhat familiar-looking elephant. The matriarch¡¯s heiress wasn¡¯t wearing her usual fishnet-stockings, but Claire could still pick the rogue out thanks to her unique physique and demeanor. She was much thinner than most of the other females, her tusks were only half-grown, and her face was forever adorned with an awfully fake smile.


    ¡°Good morning. Can you come back some other time? We¡¯re in the middle of our morning drills right now.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°You¡¯ll be doing your afternoon and evening drills later.¡±


    The elephant people had been assigned the duty of keeping watch over the town, but there had been a series of complaints when they were first deployed. With so many police roaming the streets, the citizens had found themselves feeling less safe. A few careful reassessments later, it was decided that the three branches, namely the Vel¡¯khanese, the Cadrian, and the Erdbrecher police forces would each only deploy a third of their number on any given day.


    And with nothing else to do, the off-duty mercenaries had defaulted to their regular training regimen. Each day, they would spar and practice from dawn till dusk, with their mealtimes serving as their only breaks.


    ¡°Exactly.¡± The corner of Ayla¡¯s lips twitched. ¡°Please leave. Go bother the birds instead.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Claire squeezed through the open door before the long-nosed land gar could close it and made her way across the lawn. The erdbrecher grabbed the moose¡¯s tail, but she failed to restrain her. Alya was dragged around instead, seemingly with no effort on the intruder¡¯s part, as she walked around the building and located the training grounds behind it.


    Crossing her arms, she looked past the rows of men and women practicing their forms and located the erdbrecher matriarch. Emelia was in the middle of the crowd, pacing back and forth through the various lines as she corrected the stances and swings of those she passed. She noticed Claire right away, but she didn¡¯t approach until she was finished with the trainees in her block.


    For someone confronting a would-be killer, the smiling elephant was awfully serene. It was almost like she didn¡¯t quite care that Claire would have happily choked her to death without any last-minute intervention.


    ¡°Sorry, Boss.¡± Alya lowered her eyes and shook her head. ¡°I couldn¡¯t stop her.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite alright.¡± The older mercenary slowly shook her head before turning her eyes back on the intruder¡¯s frame and looking her up and down. ¡°You seem a lot different when you¡¯re not trying to kill us.¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°I look the same. I pay close attention to my appearance.¡±


    ¡°Your aura, I mean,¡± said Emelia, with a raised brow. ¡°It was less sane the other night, more monstrous.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m always perfectly sane.¡±


    It was their first time meeting since the incident. Emelia had visited the house a few times for some business or other, but Claire hadn¡¯t bothered leaving her room to greet her.


    ¡°Of course.¡± The elephant produced a handkerchief from her front pocket and lightly dabbed away the sweat on her forehead. ¡°Did you need me for something?¡±


    ¡°A spar.¡±


    The ice cold request drew a number of eyes from across the training grounds. Elephants of all shapes and sizes perked up, with many of the young males immediately breaking into gossip and the older females shutting them up with smacks to the back of the head. The matriarch herself was largely unperturbed. If anything, she was entertained; there was a big smile on her face and her trunk was folded under her tusks.


    ¡°I¡¯d love to, but a certain someone happened to throw my magic-resistant amulet into the sea, and I doubt I¡¯ll do all that well without it.¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°No magic this time. Only shapeshifting.¡± She drew her lizard, transforming him into a dull blade mid-draw. ¡°I need to work on my close combat.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯ve come to the right place,¡± said the elephant, with a flaccid trumpet. ¡°Refining our technique is what we do.¡±


    ___


    The training session lasted for roughly two hours. For the lyrkress, it was a struggle. The mercenary was already familiar with her weapon and fighting style, and she could use none of the vector magic that allowed for her physics-defying maneuvers. The gap only opened further with time, with her opponent learning more of her tricks with every round. The final fight was the most damning; the elephant ended on a dominating performance wherein she emerged completely unscathed.


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± Claire mumbled to herself as she fiddled with a cup of cold water. ¡°She was the only one that got any better.¡±


    Everyone else was drinking greedily from a communal tub, with some spraying the icy liquid all over their bodies and others guzzling like their lives depended on it. The matriarch was no exception. She drank something in the realm of ten litres in five minutes, with her midsection, which was otherwise incredibly chiselled, expanding drastically to accommodate.


    Evidently, the woman¡¯s giant ears weren¡¯t just for show. After filling her trunk again, she walked over with a grin and sat down next to the lyrkress, her back against the wall and one arm resting on top of a propped-up knee.


    ¡°Looks like it¡¯s my win,¡± she said.


    ¡°I know. You didn¡¯t need to rub it in.¡±


    ¡°Come on, you don¡¯t have to be like that.¡± The middle-aged woman took a sip from her nose before shaking it free of any excess water and taking a deep breath. ¡°Want to know why I managed to read you so easily?¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes for a moment. ¡°I don¡¯t want your charity. I¡¯ll figure it out myself.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t going to be charity,¡± said the elephant. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you if you sign up and join us. You might not be much of an erdbrecher, but you¡¯d probably make for a decent merc. And a decent mount, too, if you¡¯re any good at holding that giant snake form.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not joining,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Shame.¡±


    ¡°And that other form is my true form.¡±


    The elephant raised a brow. ¡°Then why are you trying to learn to fight like a humanoid?¡±


    Claire didn¡¯t immediately respond. She looked down into her cup instead and stared at her reflection. ¡°It¡¯s easier to fight if I¡¯m the same size as whatever I¡¯m fighting.¡±


    ¡°Somehow, I doubt that,¡± said the matriarch. ¡°Bigger things tend to be harder to take down. You sure you¡¯re not just doing something wrong?¡±


    ¡°I might be.¡±


    The elephant pressed her hands onto her knees and got to her feet. ¡°We can try it for a few rounds, and I¡¯ll tell you what I think.¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°Not today. It¡¯s time for me to go back.¡± The space in front of her began to shimmer right as she finished speaking. It wasn¡¯t a prediction. The forces had simply started to distort before there was any visual indication. ¡°I¡¯ll come again.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be looking forward to it.¡±


    With one last exchange of nods, the moose entered the magical foxhole and greeted the familiar faces waiting on the other side.

 Chapter 271 - Cooks and Crooks III

    Chapter 271 - Cooks and Crooks III


    Claire blinked seven times in quick succession as she stared at the dinner table. The polished oak counter was covered from end to end, with appetizers crowding the left side and desserts dominating the right. Three large platters served as the centerpiece, each crowned with a beautifully plated main course. There was a baked noodle dish buried in a mountain of perfectly browned cheese, a fancy beef stew enhanced with spices aplenty, and a large, spatchcocked pig sapling, taken straight from Kal¡¯syr¡¯s garden and roasted to perfection.


    ¡°Why is there so much food?¡±


    ¡°Why, it is our breakfast, of course,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°I thought you said you were making one dish.¡±


    ¡°I was making one dish to your standard.¡± A confident, intrepid smile appeared on the squid¡¯s face. ¡°I never once stated that it was the only thing that I would prepare. Did you not see all the ingredients laid out?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you would use it all. There was enough to feed a family for a week.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I was really surprised too!¡± said Sylvia, as she danced through the air. It was almost elegant, so long as one was to ignore the drool slowly escaping her mouth. ¡°I can hardly believe she learned to do all this in a week.¡±


    ¡°I was subjected to a gruelling training regimen that consumed most if not all of my time,¡± said the squid, with a nod.


    The boast, of course, was met with a chop. ¡°Stupid squid. You were supposed to be managing your country. Not wasting your time.¡±


    ¡°A-and I was. Every waking moment that I did not spend cooking was invested in the duties that I now bear as queen.¡±


    Another chop.


    Fortunately for the squid, a series of footsteps broke the chain of violence before it could be perpetuated any further. Natalya stifled a yawn as she wandered down the stairs, her glasses lopsided and her duckling-themed sleepwear still covering her body. Her eyes were still half closed, and each step was more tenuous than the last.


    ¡°Morning.¡± The tired cat spoke to no one in particular before pausing for a moment to sniff at the air. ¡°Something smells really good.¡± Fighting back another yawn, she collapsed at the bottom of the stairs and lazily shut her eyes.


    ¡°Morning!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Good morning, Lia,¡± said Arciel.


    Even with everyone speaking to her, the cat remained largely unresponsive. She started dozing off where she was, her butt slightly raised and her cheeks rubbing against the polished wooden floor.


    It was only when the fourth and final resident greeted her that she transformed from a slovenly mess to a feline missile. There was a loud ¡°Eek!¡± when the lizard pressed his forehead into hers, followed by an equally loud thunk when she rammed her skull into the ten-foot ceiling.


    ¡°That was mean, Boris.¡± She rubbed the back of her neck as she slowly returned to ground level. Finally wide awake.


    The four-legged sword met the cat¡¯s accusing stare with a tilt of the head and an awfully slow blink.


    ¡°You¡¯re too cold,¡± complained Natalya. ¡°You need to warn me before you do that.¡±


    Perhaps because of his metallic composition, or perhaps of the moose magic cycling through his circuits, Boris was hardly affected by the ambient temperature. His body was always just a few degrees above the freezing point, warm enough to avoid giving anyone frostbite, but cold enough to catch an unsuspecting victim off guard.


    ¡°We did warn you!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Everyone else said hi first!¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± The cat coughed into her hand. ¡°So what¡¯s this about?¡± she asked, as she looked over the spread.


    ¡°I personally prepared it for the purposes of celebrating the shop¡¯s grand opening.¡±


    ¡°You made it yourself?¡± Lia¡¯s eyes opened wide. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you could cook.¡±


    ¡°I could not. But I have recently put in the effort and not only earned the requisite skill, but raised it to a lofty level twenty-three in preparation for this event.¡± She puffed up her chest with pride and placed a hand on top of it. ¡°I have become so proficient, in fact, that I have unlocked the option to become a chef.¡±


    ¡°You did all that for me?¡± The cat lowered her face, but while she could certainly hide her leaking glasses, she couldn¡¯t quite fight back the accompanying sniffle. Silently, she approached the squid, squeezed her tight, and buried her face in her shoulders. ¡°Thanks Ciel, you¡¯re the best.¡±


    ¡°Y-you are very welcome,¡± stuttered the queen. She kept raising and dropping her hands, unsure of how she was meant to respond. Eventually, she settled on lightly wrapping her arms around the cat and patting her on the back. A few awkward moments later, she tapped her on the shoulders and lightly pushed her away. ¡°Now that we have all gathered, I suggest we begin before it cools. I am particularly proud of the roast pig, and I believe it should satisfy even the pickiest of palates.¡± She gave the lyrkress a knowing smile, while presenting each of the party¡¯s attendants with a set of silverware in turn. Boris was the only exception. He was given a lump of steel outright, something to keep him busy before it was time for the dishes to be done.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°I¡¯m not picky.¡±


    ¡°You complain about nearly everything we eat,¡± laughed Natalya, as she wiped her eyes. ¡°If that¡¯s not picky, I¡¯m not really sure what is.¡±


    ¡°Picky people don¡¯t eat things they don¡¯t like.¡± Claire cut herself a piece of the pig as she spoke. Its deep orange skin, dyed by whatever sauce it was cooked with, broke apart with a hearty crunch when she pressed the knife against it. A similar noise was made when she bit past it and dug her teeth into the juicy, fatty flesh. ¡°I¡¯ll eat anything. Even if I hate it,¡± she said, as she took another bite.


    ¡°I would rather you not make such a statement while you are in the midst of consuming my masterpiece.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s too bad,¡± said the horse. Arciel tried to read her expression, but it was a lost cause. Her face was just as blank as usual.


    The moose was the only party member being uncooperative. The other two were both over the moon, munching away without restraint. A whole fifth of the two hundred pound pig was already gone, vanished into their stomachs.


    ¡°What the heck! This is super tasty!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I didn¡¯t know pigs could be this good!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s so delicious that it feels like I should be savouring it, but I can¡¯t stop myself from stuffing my face,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°I am glad to hear that my efforts have been rewarded.¡± Seeing that Claire had still not offered her impressions, even after the others were finished, the squid reluctantly turned around and cut a serving for herself.


    ¡°It¡¯s frustratingly delicious.¡±


    It was only then, as she finally gave up, that she received her answer. She spun back around immediately, her lips already twisted into a boastful smile, and a haughty laugh halfway up her throat.


    ¡°Naturally. I exhausted every resource to ensure its success.¡±


    She was thrilled, fulfilled even, but the same could not be said for her conversation partner.


    ¡°Is this supposed to be some kind of sick joke?¡± mumbled the lyrkress. She continued to nibble at a piece of pork, even with her eyes distant and her tongue flicking aggressively. ¡°My cooking skill was absorbed by envenom, and I haven¡¯t been able to get it back no matter how much I practiced. Meanwhile, some stupid squid with half a brain manages to level it to twenty-three in less than a fortnight. Everything¡¯s been going this way lately. Is there something wrong with me? Maybe I should¡¯ve taken that stupid elephant¡¯s advice in the morning. Or beaten it out of her. She might¡¯ve told me if I strangled her for long enough.¡±


    ¡°I-I do apologize, I was not aware I had struck such a nerve,¡± said the queen. She blinked a few times before coughing again and returning to the table. ¡°Now, ladies, I am aware that the pork is exceptional, but I suggest that you sample the other dishes as well. They may not be as perfect, but I am proud to have crafted them nonetheless.¡±


    ¡°Bai wahwehy vam!¡± said Sylvia. The tiny fairy had a fried sea creature hanging out of her mouth. It was a bit of a ridiculous sight. Even with half of it already consumed, the battered belt fish was more than twice her width and three times her length.


    There were another dozen laid out on the table; the vixen¡¯s sinful appetite had been a key factor in determining the size of the meal.


    Even with everyone¡ªincluding a freshly recovered Claire¡ªchipping away at the buffet, it took nearly an hour for it to vanish. The whole experience had Natalya feeling lethargic. She ended up collapsed in her chair with her hands on her bulging stomach. Though she technically had room for more, Sylvia was behaving similarly. She sat in the cat''s lap and perfectly emulated her behaviour.


    The two equally stuffed noble ladies took a little more care in maintaining appearances. Even in front of their friends, they sat normally and maintained their composure, in spite of the discomfort in their waists. Boris was the only one still eating. He was happily working on the cutlery, perhaps because it was made of silver.


    ¡°That was so good.¡± Natalya spoke from her collapsed position, her face a blissful smile. ¡°I''m so full I just want to nap.¡±


    ¡°You can''t,¡± mumbled an equally sleepy Sylvia. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be opening today.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah...¡± The cat continued lounging around for a few seconds before suddenly opening her eyes wide and springing to her feet. ¡°What time is it!?¡±


    ¡°Hey! What the heck!?¡± cried the displaced fairy. The sudden motion had flung her into one of the open windows on the other side of the room.


    ¡°Sorry!¡±


    ¡°Around noon,¡± said Claire. Her eyes were on the clock hanging above the stove. It was a fancier timepiece, gifted by a business partner that produced portable versions for the store.


    ¡°We need to get to the shop! We''re supposed to be opening in an hour!¡± Natalya frantically dashed around the house, grabbing various objects and bags¡ªproducts for the most part¡ªand throwing them all in a pile. Her clothes changed at some point or other as well. The semi-translucent nightgown was replaced with the store¡¯s supposed uniform. It consisted of three main pieces, a white blouse, a black skirt, and a navy blue vest, all three of which were woven of fine silk.


    ¡°There is hardly a need to panic,¡± said Arciel, as she watched the blademaster run about. ¡°We''ve quite some time yet.¡±


    ¡°It might¡¯ve been okay if we wrapped everything up last night, but half the shelves are still empty,¡± said Lia, as she threw another knife into the pile, ¡°and I¡¯m pretty sure I left almost all the flint we stocked in the warehouse.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn, that seems kinda far,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Do you think we¡¯re gonna make it?¡±


    ¡°We should still be fine if we hurry,¡± said Lia. ¡°But I might have to ask you for a few favours if it looks like we¡¯re running too late.¡±


    She grabbed an outfit out of the closet and threw it across the room. It was almost identical to her own, with the size as the only key difference. It was a fair bit larger. Everything was longer to accommodate the fox¡¯s height, and there was significantly more room cut into the space around the chest in particular.


    ¡°I¡¯ll change later,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And I don¡¯t really feel like turning big right now anyway, so I probably won¡¯t even need it.¡± Despite her objections, the fox caught the uniform out of the air and stored it in her tail.


    ¡°Ok. Is everyone ready?¡± Natalya stuffed everything she had thrown onto the floor into an already over-capacity bag, and after failing to fasten its belt, tied it shut with a piece of rope instead.


    ¡°I am,¡± said Arciel. ¡°And I might add that there is little reason to worry about the cleanup. I shall have one of the servants pay a visit during the afternoon.¡±


    ¡°Thanks Ciel,¡± said the cat, with a tired smile. ¡°What about you two?¡±


    ¡°Mhm! Totally ready!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I am,¡± said Claire. She glanced at the oversized bag before breathing a sigh. ¡°Do you want to fly?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d really rather not,¡± said Lia, her face half obscured by the giant leather sack.


    ¡°Well too bad.¡± The serpent grumbled under her breath about nothing in particular as she walked out the front door and assumed her true form in the yard. ¡°Hop on.¡± Having skipped her morning flight, she happened to be in the mood to stretch her wings.

 Chapter 272 - Cooks and Crooks IV

    Chapter 272 - Cooks and Crooks IV


    Sylvia lay face-down atop the massive, shared desk. Her eyes were closed and all four of her legs were sprawled across the polished marble surface. She wasn¡¯t quite asleep just yet, but she was at least halfway there, basking in the sunlight as it streamed through the open window.


    Everything was ready. The shelves were stocked with reasonably priced goods, the doors were open, and the sign was set up outside. And yet, there was not a single customer anywhere in sight. Even Arciel was gone. There was only so much work she could leave to her subordinates, and she had already wasted over a week. Something or other was sure to go south if she didn¡¯t soon return to her duties.


    The idle fairy had retained a high level of energy even following the squid¡¯s departure, but alas, it vanished by the time the second hour had passed. Her lethargy was shared by her chair. Claire was also lying on the desk with her face plastered against the wood and her motivation at an all-time low. Her top half, like Sylvia, was spread across the frigid marble, while her lyrkrian lower body was planted in a cushioned seat resembling a jellyfish¡¯s bell¡ªan extra large pillow custom ordered for her less humanoid form.


    Lia was the only one of the three with any energy at all. She was happily humming the afternoon away, tapping the song¡¯s beat out with one hand while toying with the feathered quill in the other. She wasn¡¯t the slightest bit concerned, even with the complete and utter lack of interest shown by the passersby.


    ¡°I¡¯m bored,¡± grumbled the groggy half-elf. ¡°We aren¡¯t getting any customers.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m not really expecting anyone until people get off work.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± Sylvia¡¯s ears perked up as she twisted her neck towards the bipedal cat and cast a suspicious glare. ¡°You knew this was gonna happen!?¡±


    ¡°More or less,¡± said Natalya, with a calm smile.


    ¡°Then why the heck did we open this early!?¡± cried the hat. ¡°And why are we just sitting around!? We could¡¯ve played something at least!¡±


    ¡°Well, I did bring a few games along just in case, but you two looked like you were enjoying your naps, so I thought it¡¯d be better not to bother you.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t napping,¡± said Claire. She slowly peeled herself off the counter and regrew her chest spike. ¡°What do we have?¡±


    ¡°How does quash sound?¡± said Lia, with a finger pressed against her chin.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t work with three,¡± said the moose.


    ¡°I¡¯ve actually got a pretty good idea that¡¯ll get us around that,¡± said the cat, as she pulled a trio of maps out from under the desk. ¡°Each of us just needs to play two games at once.¡±


    ¡°Oh! That actually sounds kinda fun!¡± said Sylvia, with her eyes sparkling. ¡°Wanna play with special pieces again today too?¡±


    ¡°I was thinking we should play a few normal games first, before we start with anything too crazy,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°Mmmmnnn¡­ okay. One or two normal games doesn¡¯t sound too bad, I guess.¡±


    Because she had quickly grown bored of all the standard rules and limitations, Sylvia had come up with an idea that threw everything into disarray. She would sing the game pieces to life, animating the first of each class that the player created and bestowing upon them a set of unique properties, some beneficial, and others not so much. It was a variant that soon picked up steam, with many of its witnesses emulating her behaviour, albeit without any of the magic. Not everyone liked the variant, but its supporters touted it as far more realistic.


    ¡°Okay then let¡¯s get started right away.¡±


    Smiling happily, Natalya spread the maps on top of the table and placed her pieces in their starting positions.


    And so began a trio of wars.


    They continued to play throughout the afternoon, throwing their forces against one another until the sun finally sank beneath the horizon. During the day, they received a grand total of three visitors, all housewives that had stopped by on their routine grocery runs. While they had certainly been curious about the shop¡¯s functions and features, none of them had decided to part with any of their coins.


    It wasn¡¯t until the sun started to set that the shop finally drew more attention. Pedestrians poked their heads inside, some to inspect the wares, others with their focus on the employees. And though the building no longer bore its previous appearance, there was even the occasional illiterate that asked what plays were showing. But overall, it was still fairly slow.


    There wasn¡¯t anyone that seemed particularly excited about the shop or its services until an expensive carriage, marked with a diamond-studded crest, pulled up right in front of it. A local celebrity, a woman with a particularly dog-like face and a dress as expensive as the building, stepped out from the coach with her lips a twisted smile.


    ¡°You have no idea how long I¡¯ve been waiting for this place to open,¡± she said, as she entered through the land-locked door.


    ¡°Auntie!¡± The cat made her way out from behind the counter and greeted her godmother with a hug. ¡°It¡¯s so nice to see you!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to see you too.¡± The huskar lightly returned the embrace before taking a step back and retrieving a ribboned box from her fancy, crocodile leather purse. ¡°I believe some congratulations are in order.¡±


    ¡°Awww, thank you! You didn¡¯t have to!¡±


    Lia immediately moved to unwrap the box, but the dog lady stopped her with a wave of the finger. ¡°Why don¡¯t you save that for a little bit later and show me around the shop for now?¡± She winked at the cat before glancing at the muttering crowd gathered outside. ¡°What was it that you were going to sell again?¡±


    Natalya twisted her lips into a merchant¡¯s smile without missing a beat. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s really simple, Auntie,¡± she said, as she adjusted her glasses. ¡°We¡¯ve got everything an adventurer might need.¡±


    ¡°Everything?¡± asked the old lady, with an exaggerated gasp.


    ¡°Everything,¡± confirmed Lia. ¡°But our most valuable service isn¡¯t anything you¡¯ll see on the shelves. We offer classes and consulting services, and we can even help people find the tasks best suited for them.¡±


    ¡°That does sound fairly valuable. It¡¯s a shame I''m getting on in the years, else I¡¯d try out some of your services for myself.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Auntie. You still can. I¡¯m sure we can find you something.¡±


    The merchant broke into a laugh. ¡°No, no. Those days are behind me now. I¡¯d much rather be on the other end of it all.¡±


    ¡°In that case, we have a board of our own where you can put up requests. Unlike the job board, we¡¯ll only accept things that either involve or run the risk of violence, however. So that¡¯ll be requests related to dungeons, bandits, monsters, and the like.¡±


    ¡°In that case, I happen to have a few things in mind. You see, it happens that we¡¯re running into a little bit of a material shortage, and we were looking for some skyweaver silk to make up the difference.¡±


    ¡°I can have that request processed and listed immediately.¡± Lia walked over to the counter and grabbed a piece of paper. ¡°How much material were you looking for, and what sort of remuneration were you hoping to offer? Given how dangerous skyweaver nests can be, I would recommend a silver coin for every pound, with the precise value determined by the quality and length of the¡­¡±


    A wave of exhaustion washed over the lyrkress as the discussion passed through her ears. Claire knew that she was supposed to pay attention, so that she could mimic the cat¡¯s mannerisms going forward, but she couldn¡¯t be bothered to focus. There were too many unimportant details, most of which were only relevant to the specific case in mind. Even with her mind slowly blanking, however, she managed to get the gist of it; Natalya used some common sense, her godmother played along, and the crowd walked away impressed. The end result was an influx of customers and questions, all of which the cat handled without breaking a sweat. She even managed to net a few sales, namely an adventurer looking for a new watch and a butcher that hadn¡¯t been able to find any skinning knives, courtesy of the city¡¯s stock mysteriously vanishing overnight.


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    Claire, for the most part, stayed in her half-dormant state until she noticed an urchin make his way into the shop. The suspicious little boy hid his animalistic features beneath an oversized hood, but the mere cloth could do little to hide the excess of fur peeking out from within.


    His eyes nervously flitted around. They stopped briefly on the counter, but he turned them away again when he found the clerk already occupied. There seemed to be a few other seats, as well as some in-progress board games set up on top of it, but the closest thing to a player he could find was an orange stuffed doll. It at least allowed him to determine that he was in the right place, but he couldn¡¯t find its owner no matter how much he looked around.


    Though he had only intended on looking for the girl in question at first, he soon found himself curiously browsing the shelves. He reached for one of the watches, but he stopped himself short of touching it. He didn¡¯t know how pricey it was, but it was no doubt completely outside his range.


    He walked up and down the aisles, carefully inspecting each section with stars in his eyes. He even found himself outside the restroom eventually, and pressed a fluffy, round ear to the door to check if anyone was inside. Perhaps, he thought, the girl had eaten something unsanitary.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    An ice-cold voice nearly shocked him out of his skin in the middle of his questionable deed. He immediately straightened his back and spun around, taking care to pull his hat further over his head.


    ¡°N-n-nothing!¡± he half-shouted the words, drawing the eyes of the other guests. ¡°J-just looking around.¡±


    He immediately assumed the white-haired lady was staff. She was wearing the same outfit as the catgirl at the counter and giving him an unwelcoming look. To that, he was no stranger. There weren¡¯t too many that took kindly to orphans.


    ¡°I-I came here because I heard about this place from your little sister!¡± he said, after taking a few moments to stare at her awfully familiar face.


    ¡°I¡¯m an only child.¡±


    ¡°O-ohh¡­ then uhh¡­ your daughter?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have a daughter.¡±


    The boy was briefly baffled, but he soon recovered with a shake of the head. ¡°W-well your niece or something then, whatever! A few days ago, I saw a girl that looked just like you but way smaller! She was messing around in our territory and beat up a few guys.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re here for revenge?¡± The clerk tilted her head as she produced a dagger with a lizard-like motif.


    ¡°I-I swear I¡¯m not!¡± he said, with a nervous gulp. ¡°I heard that this place is supposed to teach you to fight!¡± He reached into his pocket and scrounged up a small handful coins. ¡°And I want to sign up.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± The clerk tossed her weapon away. The boy was confused for a moment; it looked like the blade would bury itself in the floor and ruin it, but it turned into a strange four-legged creature as it hit the ground and lazily walked away.


    Her expression still unchanged, the white-haired lady gestured for him to follow and walked over to the counter. ¡°Talk to her when she¡¯s done.¡± She pointed at the cat-eared lady before sitting down in the empty seat, crossing her arms, and turning her eyes on the games in progress.


    ¡°Huh? Weren¡¯t you going to help me?¡± he asked, eyes wide.


    ¡°Nope,¡± said the long-eared girl, with a shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t know how signing up works.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be a receptionist?¡± he asked.


    ¡°And a bouncer,¡± she said, with a shrug. ¡°Mostly a bouncer.¡±


    ¡°But then that means you¡¯ve gotta know how to fight, right?¡±


    ¡°Of course I know how to fight.¡± She leaned onto the desk and lazily propped up her face with her hands. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean I know how to teach.¡±


    ¡°Well, I mean, it can¡¯t be that hard, can it?¡± He scrunched up his face. ¡°I doubt the jerks at the northern wharf really know all that much about teaching either, and it seems like they¡¯re doing fine. Can¡¯t you just teach me the way you learned?¡±


    The receptionist rolled her eyes. ¡°I learned by jumping headfirst into hordes of monsters. I can arrange for that, if that¡¯s what you want.¡±


    The boy vehemently shook his head.


    ¡°Exactly. Now shut up and wait.¡±


    The boy nodded as he shifted over and positioned himself a few meters behind the man engaging the other receptionist. He thought of stepping a little closer, so that any other prospective guests would recognize that he was waiting his turn, but he quickly shook his head and purged the thought. The last thing he wanted was for the man to accuse him of trying to steal his wallet. He had been run out of far too many stores for that already.


    While the catgirl continued to entertain the other customer, he allowed his eyes to slowly wander around the shop. And the more he looked beyond its shelves, the more out of place he felt. He couldn¡¯t tell exactly what the building was made out of, but it was nothing like the shoddy shack that he and the others lived in. The structure was perfectly windproof, and the only dirt present stemmed from the customers that entered from the outside.


    It wasn¡¯t just the construction that differed, but the accompanying decorations as well. The candle-covered spiky thing that hung from the ceiling, for example, was worth an incredible amount. One of the other boys, who had broken something just like it, had simply vanished from the district overnight. According to the pirates, they had sold him and both his sisters to make up the difference.


    The pictures on the wall were much harder to judge. He knew that the most expensive paintings were worth many times their weight in gold, but he could never quite tell the difference between a masterwork and a piece of junk. The only thing he knew for sure was that, regardless of whether or not they were valuable, they were at least expensive to make. They looked a lot thicker than the paintings he saw in the pirates¡¯ collections, and it almost seemed like the various objects illustrated were caked with extra oil and colour so that they would jut out like they were real.


    The man in front of him finally wrapped up his business after another few minutes of discussion, but the cat-eared receptionist didn¡¯t notice him. She turned around and walked away, not looking back until a large bluish-white limb rose from under the table and forcibly gave her a spin. When the catgirl realised that there was another customer, albeit one that was barely visible beneath the counter, she twisted her lips into an apologetic smile and returned to her seat with her hands clasped together.


    ¡°Hello. What can I do for you today?¡±


    He was a little surprised that she didn¡¯t talk down to him, like the other girl at the desk, or most other adults for that matter, but he returned the grin nonetheless.


    ¡°I want to learn how to fight.¡± Again, he presented the coinage he had available. Not all of it, of course. The spring was a busy season where the more magically endowed orphans could earn a decent amount of money, but he doubted that it would last. The nice old ladies at the soup kitchen had warned him that it was possible they would shut down on the new queen¡¯s orders. That was why he was investing his income in the first place. If he could just learn to kill monsters, he would surely be able to bring home enough meat to feed everybody until they were full.


    The boy gulped when the receptionist started to tap her quill against her glasses. ¡°A-a little girl told me about this place. She kind of looks like the other receptionist, except she looked like she was my age.¡± He started rattling off at top speed. He couldn¡¯t let her find an excuse to reject him. ¡°She was really strong, and she beat up a bunch of pirates! I want to learn to be like her!¡±


    ¡°She did what?¡± The receptionist turned towards her coworker with a suspicious glare. ¡°Claire! You were supposed to be advertising, no¡ª¡±


    ¡°Their fault, not mine,¡± said the white-haired lady, as she turned her eyes away.


    ¡°Somehow, I doubt that.¡± The cat-eared receptionist heaved a sigh as she grabbed a form off the desk and quickly filled it out. ¡°Can you read and write?¡± she asked, her eyes back on the boy.


    ¡°K-kind of.¡± The pirates never taught them anything, but the church that they visited on occasion had a kind nun that insisted on teaching them the basics at least.


    ¡°Okay. Then put your name here.¡± She pointed at a blank space on top of the page. ¡°And circle everything you want to learn over here.¡±


    He squinted at the top of the page, and after taking a few moments to confirm that she wasn¡¯t binding him into slavery, quickly scribbled in his name and moved his eyes further down the form. There were a surprising number of options, basic classes on almost a dozen different weapon types, monster hunting tactics, and even a few elementary-level courses in magic theory. It took him a while to consider them all, but he eventually settled on just two.


    Daggers were likely the only weapons he could afford, and the monster class seemed like it was the most useful, given his future plans.


    The cat-eared clerk smiled when he turned the form back to her. ¡°Ruben, is it?¡±


    He nodded.


    ¡°Follow me.¡±


    She began to move around the counter, but a tail grabbed her by the wrist before she could escape.


    ¡°Wait,¡± said the other clerk. ¡°If you leave. Who¡¯s going to manage the desk?¡±


    ¡°You, of course.¡±


    The white-haired lady made an annoyed face and settled back into her seat. ¡°Fine. But don¡¯t blame me if everything goes wrong.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine.¡± The cat-eared lady smiled as she peeled the long scaly thing off her wrist and proceeded through a pair of double doors.


    Following her, the tiny bear cub found himself in a large auditorium. He was thrown a wooden knife almost right away, with the lady taking up a stance in the middle of the massive room.


    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re gonna teach me?¡± he said, wide-eyed. ¡°Aren¡¯t you just a desk lady?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly.¡± The air around her suddenly changed, warping from friendly to hostile, outright murderous. His fur stiffened and stood on end and his paws shivered in his boots, completely overwhelmed by the raw terror.


    But his lips soon regained their smile.


    He couldn¡¯t help but marvel at the wild discrepancy.


    She was the real deal.


    Under her wing, he would learn to fight. And earn the freedom his mother had lost.

 Chapter 273 - Cooks and Crooks V

    Chapter 273 - Cooks and Crooks V


    The days following the shop¡¯s launch were largely uneventful. They were on the slower side, spent sitting at the counter with little to do. Olga¡¯s visit had certainly bolstered the flow of traffic, but it was largely a temporary increase. The surge in visitors lasted for only a few days, slowing to a crawl again right after. That wasn¡¯t to say that the business was a failure, of course. A few people did still stop by each day, often to ask Natalya to help them pick something off the board. Many of the customers were repeats, but it was difficult to say if that was because the service was genuinely valuable. Some, Claire suspected, were only after the thirty-odd minutes in which they monopolised the catgirl¡¯s attention.


    With a store of her own, Lia was even more popular among the city¡¯s bachelors than she had been as an ordinary adventurer.


    Whatever the case, their day-to-day remained the same. Every morning, the girls would go about their respective routines and convene in the shop after breakfast. Natalya was always responsible for opening the doors. She arrived before rush hour and took care of the early-risers, but perhaps because she was not exactly a morning person herself, she could often be found napping in the infirmary come midday. She would deal with the second wave of customers when she woke up in the evening and teach the kid when he came in at night.


    Though technically responsible for dealing with customers while Natalya was busy or asleep, the halfbreeds found themselves with much less to do. The moose had eventually decided to spend her time working on her abilities; she was often training with Boris in the gym or meditating in her seat. For once, she was making decent progress. Sparring with the erdbrechers every morning taught her more about the nuances of close combat, and Alfred¡¯s advice had proven surprisingly helpful. She was finally starting to get a better grasp on the manipulation of her divinity, though for the time being, she was focused entirely on the orderly variety. The more difficult sort would come after she was confident in her mastery.


    As stupid as it seemed, the most effective piece of advice that the man had given was for her to grow a pair of horns. She hadn¡¯t the slightest clue why, but sprouting icy nubs from her forehead would always better her fine control. With that said, her pride prevented her from leveraging them long-term. She hated how they distorted her silhouette and gave from afar the impression of a bull. When she did use them, she would always twist them out of shape and ensure that they looked anything but moose-like.


    Sylvia was not nearly as productive as her favourite chair. The fox spent most of her time sleeping, often only waking for cuddles and meals. Boris, on the other hand, had happened upon a new hobby. He vanished for hours at a day, sometimes only returning home when called.


    As one of the first in the party to reach level 500, the lizard should have already ascended, but he appeared to be stalling for some reason or other. It was possible that he wasn¡¯t quite satisfied with the choices presented, and that he was doing something or other in hopes of unlocking more classes. Whatever the case, Claire had largely kept out of his business and never confronted him directly. Things were peaceful for once. And if they weren¡¯t going to be actively working on their levels, then there was hardly any reason to rush the lizard into a decision.


    Of course, not all was well in paradise.


    ¡°We¡¯re in the red.¡± Natalya mumbled to herself as she flipped through her journal. It was already late into the evening, too late for anyone to bother stopping by.


    She was ignoring the strictly negative cash flow for the time being. But even with the land depreciated over a twenty-year period and only the sold goods¡¯ cost considered, the shop was operating at a net loss. Granted, it wasn¡¯t a significant loss. They only needed a few more sales to turn things around, but the cat was unhappy about it either way. At the rate that things were going, they would have to do some monster hunting of their own just to keep up with their expenses.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to need to figure out a way to knab more customers.¡±


    ¡°Oh, oh! I¡¯ve got an idea!¡± Sylvia interrupted the catgirl¡¯s thoughts by leaping atop her head. The sudden weight nearly led the soldier to bash her head into the desk, but she managed to stop herself short. Unlike the first few times. ¡°We can set up a stage and sing and stuff. You know, like how all the taverns do it.¡±


    ¡°I doubt we¡¯d be able to afford any decent performers,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m super good at singing!¡± She stood up on her hind legs and prepared to demonstrate, but Lia silenced her with a gentle scratch behind the ears.


    ¡°We all know you¡¯re a great singer, Sylvie, but you¡¯d probably get bored of it in less than a day.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnnn¡­ yeah, I guess you¡¯re right. Singing a bunch just reminds me of leveling, and leveling was boring as heck.¡± The fox paused for a moment to think. ¡°Oh! What if we set up a lounge where people could play games and stuff? We¡¯re basically using the desk for that already.¡±


    ¡°That would just attract deadbeats,¡± said Claire. She walked out of the auditorium as she stifled a yawn. She wasn¡¯t sweaty. In fact, she was never sweaty, given the nature of her constitution, but the subtle, satisfied smile on her lips was evidence of a session gone well.


    ¡°I know they¡¯re supposed to be extremely profitable, but I¡¯d rather not run a gambling den,¡± said Lia, with a frown. ¡°It might be nice to throw in something like a snack corner.¡±


    ¡°None of us know how to cook,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ It kinda looks like Ciel¡¯s got it all figured out, and she¡¯d probably be happy to help,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°That honestly doesn¡¯t sound like a bad idea. We could ask her to make something simple with a longer shelf life, like cookies maybe. It¡¯ll be hard to compete with the sweets shop, but the queen brand might drive sales up.¡± She muttered for a bit before shaking her head. ¡°But I can¡¯t possibly do that to her with how much she already has on her plate.¡±


    ¡°I doubt it¡¯s as much work as you think,¡± said Claire. ¡°Stop for a moment and consider how much she must¡¯ve wasted on her cooking skill.¡±


    Lia smiled awkwardly. ¡°That was just her way of telling us how much she loves us.¡±


    ¡°Now you''re just making it weird,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°You know I didn¡¯t mean it like that,¡± said the cat, with a sigh.


    ¡°Maybe not. But the fact stands that she invited us to join her harem.¡±


    ¡°I know, but she has her reasons.¡± Natalya adjusted her glasses with the back of her quill. ¡°She''s actually really sweet, you know?¡±


    ¡°Mhm,¡± agreed Sylvia, with a nod. ¡°You''d think she''d be a little more on guard around us, after Claire tried to kill her that one time. But she wasn''t even bitter about it the next time we met.¡±


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    The statement was followed by a moment of silence. The cat moved her eyes back and forth between the fox and the snake, opening and closing them at least a dozen times. ¡°Claire?¡±


    ¡°I''m innocent.¡±


    ¡°Sylvia, can you please elaborate?¡±


    ¡°Well, you remember that thing Matty said about Claire almost blowing up their HQ?¡±


    The cat leaned forward in her seat for a few moments before nodding. ¡°I vaguely remember him mentioning something like that.¡±


    ¡°Well it was right after Claire finished ascending, and she was like really, really, reaaaaaaaaaally excited to test her breath attack,¡± giggled the vixen. ¡°So uhhh, Ciel picked a fight, and Claire blew up her whole castle thingy.¡±


    ¡°Of course she did,¡± mumbled Natalya.


    ¡°I''m innocent,¡± repeated the lyrkress, with her eyes averted. ¡°Now stop talking about me and start coming up with ideas.¡±


    ¡°Ideas?¡± Lia blinked a few times before looking back down at her notebook. ¡°Oh, right. While a gambling den is less than ideal, I think Sylvia hit a pretty good point. We¡¯ll be more likely to get requests if we have more traffic. Auntie''s still the only one that''s given us anything.¡±


    As one of the busiest women in town, Olga hadn''t personally stopped by after her first visit, but one of her lackeys had dropped off a binder full of documents. It was filled to the brim with generic requests for high quality materials. There were hundreds of items with their prices and specifications listed, but the mountainload of work was not quite enough to drive traffic on its own.


    Only particularly experienced hunters would be able to satisfy Silkroad Company¡¯s needs. It took a fair amount of knowledge to understand which pieces were valuable to begin with, and a significant amount of skill to subjugate the associated creatures without damaging the goods.


    For the most part, common parts like pelts and meats were practically worthless. There were few monsters that tasted as good as domesticated livestock, and their skins were typically too frail to serve as armour while also being too coarse to use as clothing. It was only when they had special properties that they were worth anything at all, and not even that was any sort of guarantee.


    It was simple supply and demand. The fireproof leather harvested from the infernal hare, for example, was an expensive commodity on paper. Its properties made it the perfect protection for anyone looking to enter a burning building. It was useful in business and private residences as well; any flame covered with the material was almost sure to find itself extinguished.


    But in reality, the leather had little to no value. While high-level mages were rare, half-baked casters were common enough amongst the populace that fires were typically handled by passersby. Though just about anyone would suffice, fire mages were considered the most effective; they could easily seize control of any organic blaze and see it immediately suppressed.


    One could argue that an adventurer intent on summiting a volcano could find some use for the fabric, but that too was a false assumption. Monster hunters were only ever interested in acquiring gear made from creatures in their own level range or above. Infernal hares rarely came in anything beyond the single digits; their skins could easily be melted by fire mages only double their level. There was simply no market for their pelts. No matter how useful its fireproof properties might have seemed.


    The same logic was often applied to stronger monsters as well¡ªthe only parts of value were the special ones, those that were particularly tough, luxurious, or magically endowed, and it just so happened that those parts were often tied directly to the monsters¡¯ key abilities. Natural catalysts like unicorn horns, snake eyes, and golem gems greatly empowered their owners while still intact, and destroying them was a common tactic to better one¡¯s chances of victory.


    That was where the hunter¡¯s skill was factored into the equation. To acquire more than just experience, one would have to carefully deal with a monster¡¯s greatest strengths and subsequently eliminate them without breaking or even striking the wrong thing. Of course, lower-end shops would take damaged goods as well, but an enterprise as prestigious as the Silkroad Company refused to deal in any such goods, and any monster hunters capable of supplying them likely already had pre-existing agreements with some rich patron or other.


    ¡°Mmmnnnn¡­ so what you¡¯re saying is that you need more people to put jobs on our board?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± affirmed the cat. ¡°I know food is out of the question, but I was thinking we might be able to set up some sort of bar or something.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°That¡¯s not going to work. If you have drinks, people will want food.¡±


    ¡°Right. Good point.¡±


    ¡°Oh, oh, oh!¡± Sylvia raised a paw. ¡°What if we sold them imaginary food? We can say it¡¯s good for diets and stuff.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you know what a diet is,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°What the heck is that supposed to mean!?¡±


    ¡°You have an infinite stomach.¡± The abyssal horror lifted the hat off the cat¡¯s head and poked at her belly. ¡°Is it even possible for you to get fat?¡±


    ¡°Uhhhh... hmmm... I''m not really sure,¡± said the fox. ¡°I''ve never really tried.¡±


    ¡°You gorge yourself every single time you have the chance.¡±


    ¡°I dunno if that counts ''cause it''s not like I''m actually getting full. But anyway, that doesn¡¯t really matter right now! Imaginary food sounds like it could be super neat. We could make people feel like they''ve totally eaten a bunch of stuff even though they''ve just been gulping air.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a great idea, but I feel like it''ll attract the wrong crowd,¡± said the cat. ¡°No one that fights a lot is going to be all that worried about having to go on a diet.¡±


    It was only post-retirement that most wealthy spelunkers and monster hunters would inflate, and at least typically speaking, only mages ever did. Most other classes had at least some degree of inbuilt obesity resistance, be it the overinflated muscles sported by warriors, the passive skills granted to chefs, or the heavenly blessings granted to dancers.


    ¡°I guess you have a point.¡± Sylvia¡¯s ears drooped as she collapsed onto the desk. ¡°I guess we gotta find someone that can cook.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said the cat, with a nod. ¡°Do either of you know anyone?¡±


    ¡°Windia?¡± said Claire, with a tilt of the head.


    Lia pursed her lips. ¡°That involves poaching her from Gulfweed Reef, and I¡¯d rather not sour our relationship with the manager.¡±


    The orcaped in question was both a waitress and chef, working for one of the restaurants located in close proximity to Olga¡¯s hotel. She had an unenthusiastic air about her, and her cooking was fairly average¡ªmore than good enough for their purposes.


    ¡°Oh, oh! What about Kally?¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Kal¡¯syr will be hunted by the lion god¡¯s lackeys the moment she steps out of the dungeon,¡± said Claire, with a shake of the head.


    ¡°Mmmnnnn¡­ I dunno then.¡±


    ¡°I might¡¯ve been able to ask Mom if we were closer to home,¡± said Lia, with a frown.


    A brief silence ensued, with each of the girls failing to suggest any additional candidates. It lasted for roughly two minutes before a child made his way into the shop. The nervous bear cub walked through the door in his usual grubby attire, a torn up cloak, a few rags, and an excessively oversized pair of boots. It was doubtful if he would ever grow into them, but according to the child in question, they were free.


    ¡°I¡¯m here for my lesson,¡± he said. He began heading over to the auditorium immediately, but Lia waved him towards the desk instead.


    ¡°Over here,¡± she said, with a cheeky grin. ¡°I¡¯ve got something special planned today.¡± She looked across the desk and immediately earned herself an annoyed, suspicious stare. ¡°I think you¡¯ve got most of your basics down pat. Let¡¯s move on to some practical training.¡±


    She grabbed a bag from under the counter and plopped it down in front of him.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Some basic weapons and armour. Go get changed, and meet me back here.¡± She pointed at one of the private rooms before turning back to the others. ¡°I¡¯m going to close up shop so I can take him into the forest. You¡¯re free to do whatever for the rest of the night, but I¡¯d really appreciate it if you could try thinking up a few more ideas.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try, but no promises,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Lia! I¡¯ll think of something awesome,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± A bright smile on her face, the cat grabbed the building¡¯s keys and stepped out from behind the counter. It was time to give her apprentice his first taste of blood.

 Chapter 274 - Cooks and Crooks VI

    Chapter 274 - Cooks and Crooks VI


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ I know she told us to come up with something, but I dunno where we¡¯re even supposed to start.¡±


    A fairy-shaped Sylvia pondered the question from her position atop her mount''s head. The two halfbreeds were wandering aimlessly through the city, in search of an evening meal and an accompanying chef. While Natalya had headed west, towards a known hunting ground for beginners, the other two were southbound. There was nothing in particular that fueled their decision. Claire had simply picked a random direction and started walking.


    "We can start by looking for a chef," said the lyrkress. "There might be some looking for work. Now that half the noble houses have fallen."


    There had been a number of rather gruesome executions as of late. To the queen''s enemies, the mantid warrior in her back pocket was an icon of death. He wandered haphazardly into their estates, destroyed all their guards, and claimed their lives for the throne. It didn''t matter where in the country their homes were, or even where exactly they ran. He would remove their heads all the same. The only ones he spared were warriors that impressed him. It was technically against his orders¡ªhe had been instructed to leave no one alive¡ªbut his bad habits remained exactly as they were.


    By the time he had been transformed into a eunuch, the reaper had ended seventeen of the thirty-six bloodlines that stood in opposition. He would be continuing the duty following his recovery, for while there was a comprehensive list of candidates available for the queen''s choosing, as well as a number of officials hounding for her to produce an heir, the royal harem was yet empty. The squid knew her duty, but she remained somewhat reluctant to admit any individuals with which she had little personal connection. Her hopes were pinned on Alfred¡¯s abilities; she wouldn¡¯t be forced into reproduction if he was able to repair her kin.


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ maybe. But we¡¯re not just gonna randomly find one walking around. It¡¯s not like they have their chef clothes on in public.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± said Claire, with her eyes averted.


    ¡°And plus, they¡¯re probably just gonna go check the job board anyway,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°So we¡¯re probably better off just posting something and waiting for someone to show up.¡±


    The longmoose shrugged off the reply as she closed her eyes and considered the options, her ears keeping her feet on track in the meantime.


    In and of itself, finding a skilled chef was not an impossible task. Asking the erdbrechers and arviads was all it would take; the newcomers were still looking for work in the city and had plenty of talent to spare. But the problem there was the cultural gap. While they would likely find success opening restaurants branded expressly as foreign, they were less likely to draw in the locals long term. And for that, they would need someone well-versed in traditional Vel¡¯khanese foods.


    ¡°We could try asking the pirates,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Mmnnn¡­¡± Sylvia plopped herself down in her seat and crossed her arms. ¡°I guess that could work, since we can just beat them up if they start acting up. But are pirates actually any good at cooking?¡±


    ¡°They might be.¡±


    The lyrkress spun around and started heading north instead. While the southern wharf had once been rather pirate-infested, a particularly boring grinding session had more or less emptied it out. Since then, it had been repurposed into a minor military base, taken over by one queen and then the other.


    They made a few stops on the way through the city, pausing every time a food stall grabbed the fox¡¯s attention. Though barely any larger than a stack of copper coins, fairy-Sylvia had been placed in charge of handling the money and given a hand-sewn purse just for the occasion, containing only as much cash as the two halfbreeds needed for dinner.


    Claire wasn¡¯t particularly interested in the cheap eats, but she shoved a few random things down her throat nonetheless. She needed to keep her energy up¡ªor at least that was what she assumed. The chimeric abomination of a body provided by her second ascension continued to prove itself a mystery. She had no idea how much food she needed exactly, or even how frequently she needed to eat. Her stomach rarely ever complained, and it was easily sated in the few cases that it did. Sylvia had suspected that her needs had to do with the size and frequencies of the forms she assumed, but that hypothesis had already been proven false. A full day¡¯s worth of qiligon combat had left her no more hungry than an idle day of humanoid rest.


    By the time they reached the port, the pair had already eaten their fill. They had stopped by a total of ten different stalls, almost all of which had sold some sort of fish or other. It was a clear bias, but Claire didn¡¯t complain. It wasn¡¯t as if she had anything against the fox¡¯s favourite.


    While the northern wharf was certainly home to an unhealthy number of outlaws, it was difficult to determine whether a given individual was a pirate or simply a regular citizen. Eavesdropping certainly would have allowed the pair to gradually pick out individuals from the crowd, but the lyrkress had a much better idea. She marched straight towards a familiar pet shop and snuck a glance through the glass.


    ¡°Hey, wait a second! Isn¡¯t this that one place with the really weird sheep?¡±


    ¡°Goats,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°They were goats.¡± She moved the fairy over to her shoulder and pulled her hood over her head as she opened the door.


    A familiar female clerk was at the desk. Though a few weeks had passed, she looked no less haggard than she had been on their first encounter. She was pale, sporting heavy bags beneath her eyes, despite the number of expensive-looking pharmaceuticals sitting on the shelf behind her. When the sleep-deprived desk lady spotted the customer, courtesy of the bell attached to the door, she immediately twisted her face into a scowl.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± asked the unenthusiastic siren.


    ¡°Tell me about the pirates you¡¯re with.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± The clerk moved a hand under the counter as Claire approached the desk. There was an accompanying metallic clink as she grabbed a weapon of some sort, likely a dagger or other small arm.


    ¡°We¡¯ve been here before.¡± The lyrkress pointed in the hatch¡¯s general direction. It didn¡¯t quite seem like her voice was jogging the animal doctor¡¯s memory, so she continued with a list. ¡°Talking fox. Metal lizard. Floating manatee.¡± She pulled her hood as well, albeit only until the siren¡¯s eyes flashed with recognition.


    ¡°You¡¯re the one that came during the storm,¡± said the brunette.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Yeah! I was here too!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Remember?¡±


    The vet furrowed her brow and shook her head. ¡°Sorry. I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°What the heck!? How come you remember her, but not me!? That¡¯s just rude!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t remember every face that walks through the door.¡± She pulled her hand out from under the counter and leaned forward. ¡°So what do you want to know? Oh, and before I get started,¡± she pulled out a small card, made of sea-stained timber and stamped with a lizard¡¯s skull, ¡°I am technically registered, and I charge the standard fee.¡±


    Claire and Sylvia took a moment to exchange glances, with one blank, and the other clearly confused.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ what do you mean, registered?¡± asked the fox, after a brief delay.


    ¡°Oh boy.¡± The vet pinched her nose. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ll leave if I ask, will you?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± said Claire, with a shake of the head.


    ¡°I figured.¡± The vet spun around in her chair and pointed at one of the posters behind her. ¡°I¡¯m an information broker, and this card means I¡¯m registered with the state. I deal in facts and rumours. The standard rates are on the chart. No haggling.¡±


    ¡°Oh uhmmm¡­¡± Sylvia placed her hands behind her back and turned her eyes away. ¡°We kinda just spent all our money on food. I¡¯m pretty sure we only have a few coppers left.¡±


    The vet¡¯s eye twitched. It didn¡¯t stop until she grabbed a vial of Liquid Happiness and swallowed its contents in a single breath. ¡°Get out.¡± By the looks of it, the drug was completely ineffective.


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait!¡± Sylvia waved her arms. ¡°You¡¯re a vet, right?¡±


    ¡°Get. Out.¡± A second vial was drained.


    ¡°What if, instead of paying you the normal way, I healed all the pets you have upstairs?¡±


    ¡°First of all, that isn¡¯t possible. And second, I don¡¯t have any time to play your little games. Get out.¡±


    ¡°Ughhhhh! Now you¡¯re just being stubborn.¡± The fairy puffed up her cheeks. ¡°You know what? Fine! I¡¯ll just do it then!¡±


    She clapped her hands together and warped the whole group to the building¡¯s second floor. A trio of alarmed birds and mice started to squeak and bark at the top of their lungs, while a tiny shoggoth shrieked like a maniac. Still, she continued to bring her hands together until she wove the noisy chorus into a haphazard melody. Visible notes worked their way into the various pens and cages. Some of the animals shied away, while others curiously greeted the magic with their paws and snouts. Either way, they were enveloped in a faint purple light that did away with their wounds. Mangy fur was made pristine, improperly healed limbs were snapped back into place, and missing teeth were regrown. Even the particularly ill were revived. A coughing cat had its lungs cleaned out, and an unlucky fox, which for some odd reason was completely lacking in elven ancestry, saw its brain stem freed from the rabid plague.


    ¡°There! Done.¡± With one last clap, she brought the impromptu performance to an end, leaving the animals to chirp excitedly, and the vet to stare in stunned silence. After taking a few moments to flap her mouth open and closed, she ran to each of the holding areas and inspected her various patients. She was careful at first, taking a solid two minutes to inspect a poorly grown bone for any signs of improper shape, but each examination was faster than the last. After the fifth, she pulled out a box of delusionaid from one of her pockets and applied a strip to her nose.


    ¡°You have to be kidding.¡± When she finally broke the silence, she did so with her eyes on the tiny fairy. ¡°That was just a basic healer¡¯s hymn.¡±


    ¡°Yup!¡± said the singer in question.


    ¡°You¡¯d have to be nearing a thousand for it to work that well.¡± She carefully observed the bipedal vixen, who gulped and hid herself behind her noble steed. Only her head would poke out eventually, but the animal doctor¡¯s eyes followed her regardless. ¡°Alright, you know what? Fine,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what you want for now, and you can pay me for it later.¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡± Sylvia climbed up onto her usual chair, only to freeze again. ¡°Hey! Wait a second! We still have to pay!?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°What the heck!? I literally just saved you a whole buttload of work!¡±


    ¡°And did I ask for any of it?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°I never accepted your proposal. You went ahead and did it on your own.¡± The chronic medicine drinker crossed her arms and leaned her back against the nearest pillar.


    ¡°Now you¡¯re just being unfair.¡± Sylvia puffed up her cheeks.


    ¡°We were talking business,¡± said the clerk, with a casual shrug. ¡°If we come to an agreement, then it¡¯s always fair.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± said Claire. ¡°Methods don¡¯t matter.¡± She slowly channelled her mana through her body and formed an icy dagger in her hands. ¡°And I don¡¯t care if you talk.¡± She played with the blade, lightly tossing it around, even as her eyes remained perfectly fixed on her prey. ¡°Your allies will come running if I just destroy your shop.¡±


    There was a brief pause, a staring contest that the vet soon lost.


    ¡°Alright, alright. I get it.¡± She raised her hands and showed her empty palms. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help myself. Your friend was just too easy, and I figured it wouldn¡¯t hurt to try an extra little bit,¡± she muttered. ¡°And it¡¯s not like that spell cost her much. Maybe just a couple points of mana.¡±


    ¡°Hey! It was like a couple hundred,¡± said the fox, with a pout.


    ¡°And how many do you regenerate in a second?¡±


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ like a couple m¡ª¡±


    Claire pinched the half-elf¡¯s mouth shut. ¡°Stop. She¡¯s just trying to get more information out of you.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ Wow, what the heck! That¡¯s plain evil!¡±


    ¡°Information brokers are awful people,¡± said the two-legged chair. ¡°I bet she¡¯d sell out her own father, for the right price.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± said Sylvia, wide-eyed.


    ¡°Really. You have to keep your guard up.¡±


    ¡°Mmmk¡­ I¡¯ll try.¡±


    ¡°I hope you realise I¡¯m still listening,¡± muttered the double-crosser.


    ¡°I do,¡± said Claire, with a smile. ¡°Now how about you tell us about those pirates? For free, of course.¡±


    ¡°Fine. But let¡¯s relocate first. I don¡¯t like leaving the storefront unattended.¡± She pushed herself off the pillar and started walking down the long, open hall with her hands in her pockets. Though they could have teleported just as easily, the halfbreeds followed her two flights of stairs. It was only the third floor that served as an animal hospital. The second was more shop-like, featuring animal feed, litter boxes, and other supplies aplenty.


    ¡°Uhhhh, is it just me, or are you guys kinda understaffed?¡± asked Sylvia, with a tilt of the head. Though the store was large enough to merit a whole team, the vet was the only worker in sight. Of course, there were a few others underground, but they were hardly willing to help with the more honest side of the business.


    ¡°We are,¡± grumbled the brunette. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m a bit tempted to quit myself. I¡¯ve had enough. I¡¯m supposed to be a doctor, not a vet.¡±


    ¡°Is there a difference?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Claire. ¡°Now stop distracting her. She needs to tell us about pira¡ª¡± Claire paused for a moment before grabbing the information broker by the shoulder and stopping her from descending a second flight of stairs. ¡°Wait.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°What will you do when you quit?¡±


    The vet met the lyrkress¡¯ eyes with a suspicious, studying look. ¡°What¡¯s it to you?¡±


    ¡°I might just have an offer you can¡¯t possibly refuse.¡± A grin emerged upon her lips, a predatory smile that sent a cold shiver down the animal doctor¡¯s spine.

 Chapter 275 - Cooks and Crooks VII

    Chapter 275 - Cooks and Crooks VII


    Lia silently crept through the underbrush at a fifth of her usual speed. She took care to exaggerate her movements so that the boy could learn them, but he still struggled to keep up. His body was much smaller and his steps were more hesitant. Even though he was more natural on four legs, he had to glance at his paws each time he moved, to ensure he wasn¡¯t crushing some branch or other beneath his claws.


    They hadn¡¯t quite taken any jobs from the board, but Lia had put an imaginary objective into the kid¡¯s mind. He would be eliminating goblins and carving out their hearts. In practice, not even the greenskins¡¯ most vital organs were of any notable value. They were a poor catalyst at best, sometimes used in the training of alchemists and apothecaries not yet trusted with more expensive ingredients. On the market, they would cost maybe a copper piece fresh, and less than half that if dried or otherwise preserved.


    It was precisely the monsters¡¯ worthlessness that made them the perfect target for a newbie. Ruben had gotten the hang of basic sword fighting, and he had a few elementary spells under his belt, but he was still a kid without a class. That wasn¡¯t to say he didn¡¯t have any unlocked. It was more a matter of indecisiveness. A poor orphan like him hadn¡¯t the funds to beseech Xekkur¡¯s church to remove an unwanted choice at a later time.


    They had decided that he would choose after he was done with his first round of training. In the meantime, he was mostly working on his fundamentals. Claire had refused to teach him per se, but she discussed basic magic theory with Sylvia in his presence. It was difficult to say exactly how much he picked up on, but Lia knew that the boy was sharper than the average. He wasn¡¯t a genius¡ªfar from it¡ªbut he had taken to her lessons like a natural. Seeing his rapid progress warmed her heart. In a way, he almost reminded her of her sister, who had adapted to her master¡¯s teachings with all the same ease.


    ¡°There they are. Three standard variants, and based on their equipment, they should be pretty low level.¡± She spoke in a whisper as she stopped in front of a clearing. She had been tempted to use a set of hand signals instead, but she gave up after failing to decide on a standard. As a former military woman, she was most well-versed in Paunsean orders, but they didn¡¯t seem as useful given the Vel¡¯khanese environment. The local signs would be useful for cooperating with other adventurers from the area, but they would also be the easiest for third parties to read.


    That left the Cadrian signals. They were certainly useful to know, with the foreign force planning to establish a long-term presence, but they otherwise shared the same problem as their Paunsean counterparts. Lia had given the problem quite a fair bit of thought. She had even brought it up with her friends, but Sylvia was too confused to answer, while the moose had replied with a glare, a flick, and an accusation.


    Natalya disagreed with the accompanying claim, of course. She wasn¡¯t overthinking. It was her job as the child¡¯s instructor to ensure the best possible outcome.


    ¡°Did you say three?¡± The boy stiffened up, his tiny brown tail trembling behind him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Just stick to what I¡¯ve taught you, and three will be easy.¡±


    ¡°O-okay.¡± Ruben slowly inched through the undergrowth, with a dagger in his trembling hand.


    Lia frowned when she realised he was using the blade to pull himself along. She was going to have to lecture him once he was done.


    The dulling of his weapon aside, Ruben was largely proceeding as instructed. He crept along the forest floor and circled around the group, springing only as he was perfectly positioned behind the largest and most threatening-looking goblin. The monster spun around when it heard all the rustling and spotted the boy in the middle of his charge. It didn¡¯t manage to grab its weapon in time, nor did it leap out of his path, but it did at least raise its arms in a last-ditch effort to protect its vitals. The dagger aimed for his throat dug into his forelimb instead, tearing at its muscle, but failing to secure a kill.


    Ruben immediately dug his feet into the ground and buried his knife deeper with a sickening twist. The howling goblin retaliated with a desperate overhead punch. It was a weak, powerless hit, even for the greenskin¡¯s spindly arms. The pirates¡¯ fists hurt a hundred times more. And yet, the cub felt a shudder run up his spine. A primal fear spread throughout his body. Because he could see it in the warped creature¡¯s eyes. It wasn¡¯t just trying to hurt him. It was trying to kill him.


    He fought back the urge to run and stabbed the monster again. The second attack was not aimed as well. He found the creature¡¯s gut when he was hoping to rip through its chest, but the end result was the same. With blood foaming from its lips, the biggest goblin spasmed one last time before losing strength and collapsing on top of him. He was almost about to cheer when he heard a sudden whoosh. He managed to duck out of the way as a fist flew over his head, only to be struck in the side.


    There was a gut-wrenching crunch as something dug its way into his ribcage. He couldn¡¯t stop a wailing scream from working its way up his throat. Waves of pain coursed through his body as he was sent tumbling to the ground. It was in that tumbling motion, as he was being thrown around, that he understood what had happened. A goblin had struck him with a club almost twice the size of its body.


    The wooden weapon, likely scrounged from one tree or other, had been split in the attack. But even then, its durability was greater than the bear¡¯s. His pelt had done nothing to protect him. Try as he might, he could hardly get to his feet. His vision was blurry, and his head was spinning. He almost wanted to give up. It hurt so badly that he didn¡¯t think there was any point in struggling. Even as the two laughing greenskins closed in.


    Natalya stepped out of the shrubbery only as the grip of death threatened to close. The reaper¡¯s scythe¡ªor rather the reaper¡¯s stick¡ªwas kicked away from his neck right as it dug into his skin. The weapon¡¯s wielder was launched alongside it, with both flying above the canopy. Goblin number three dashed in to seize the opening, but it too was repelled with a swipe of the catgirl¡¯s feet.


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    She pressed a greave against its face and lightly booted it into a tree. It had looked like a casual, half-hearted motion, but the result spoke for anything but its gentleness. The ancient willow split in half, just like the goblin¡¯s skull as its contents were permanently removed.


    ¡°So what do you think?¡± she spoke with a gentle smile in spite of the overwhelming brutality. ¡°How was your first taste of combat?¡±


    The boy could feel his nose trembling as he was made the subject of the catgirl¡¯s attention. He turned his eyes away before he lost the rest of his composure and spoke in a grumble. ¡°Three was too many.¡± It hurt to speak, but his shame dulled the pain.


    To listen to the laugh that ensued was nothing short of disheartening. The boy had meant his words, and for them to be shrugged off so casually left him wondering if seeking her tutelage had been the right choice to begin with.


    ¡°If you¡¯re hunting monsters, then you can almost always expect to be outnumbered,¡± she said, with a small smile. ¡°Sometimes, it¡¯s a hundred to one, and it can get even worse. You¡¯ll just have to get used to it.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean I¡¯ll be fighting three again next time?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I was thinking five, now that you know what to watch out for,¡± she said. His otherwise kind teacher pulled him to his feet with no regard for his injury and returned his fallen weapon to his hand. ¡°Follow me. Try to keep up.¡±


    He almost wanted to voice a complaint, but the boy eventually tightened his grip on his weapon and followed the catgirl deeper into the forest.


    ___


    Three hours later, the master and disciple returned to town, the former all smiles and the latter beaten ragged. The very temporary equipment that Natalya had procured for him had been completely obliterated three times over. The leather breastplate was turned to scrap, the boots were worn and torn, and the dagger was without its edge. Evidence that the exhausted, freshly traumatized youth had survived his first session.


    Her methods were questionable, but the results spoke for themselves. His level had more than doubled, going from six to fourteen over the course of roughly ten different encounters. By the end of it all, he had found himself capable of taking five goblins on at once. Not that such an ability meant much in the face of the thirty-strong hordes that had been forced upon him.


    Lia knew that the cub was skeptical, but there was a certain method to her madness. Her own teacher had guided both the Vernelle sisters through the exact same process, and according to the famous Paunsean swordsman, it was one of the few ways for a teacher without an instructor class to effectively pass their mastery onto another. The more common method was to spar, and Natalya was planning on doing just that in due time, but it was important for him to tackle the goblins first. The mock battles would only be even more brutal.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you made me do that. I thought I was going to die.¡± The orphan grumbled as he bit large chunks of meat off a hearty skewer. Perhaps because she was also somewhat peckish, his master had grabbed him a quick meal on their way back to the shop. But while land meat was a rare treat¡ªalmost everything he normally ate came from the sea¡ªthe boy found that he was struggling to enjoy it. His mouth still stung; he had been slugged in the face at least a couple hundred times, and though mostly closed, the cuts came with a strange phantom pain.


    ¡°I was expecting it to go a little bit smoother,¡± said Natalya, with an apologetic smile. ¡°We can give it another go once you¡¯ve picked your class.¡±


    The cusp of the problem was that he was being made to bite off far more than he could have possibly chewed, and he had raised that exact argument after his third battle, but she had shrugged it right off with a lecture on the relationship between risk and reward. Ruben understood the explanation, of course. It was practically common knowledge that danger was the key to power. What he didn¡¯t understand was why she had gone out of her way to raise the stakes each time, when he hadn¡¯t so much as a single triumph.


    When they arrived at the store, they each entered a private room and washed off their bodies. The water was a little cold; the showers drew their water directly from the canals, but they were happier with the blood and guts rinsed off regardless. Ruben was quick about it¡ªthe salt in the water clawed at his still-open wounds and left him teary¡ªwhile Natalya took her time and carefully washed every nook and cranny. She would be going home right after, and the last thing she wanted was for her roommates to wrinkle their noses. Assuming they were still awake to begin with.


    She had laid out a change of clothes for the boy, but she emerged from her room to find him in his usual rags. He was already asleep, his head against the counter and a line of drool dribbling down the side of his cheek. Though she suspected that it would be for the better, she decided not to wake him. He was clearly exhausted from all the near-death experiences.


    ¡°This must be how my master felt.¡± She closed her eyes as she recalled the aging man¡¯s face and pressed her fingers to her own matching smile. ¡°I wonder how he¡¯s doing.¡± Her other hand moved to the blade on her waist, the handle of which she tightly gripped. ¡°Maybe I should be giving this back.¡± She immediately began to recall her sister, but she shook her head clear of the thought and lifted the boy onto her back.


    She moved him to one of the private rooms and set him down in the bed. Taking him home wasn¡¯t an option. She hadn¡¯t the slightest clue where he lived. And regardless of where it was, the shop was no doubt at least ten times as comfortable.


    Giving her back a stretch, the cat closed the door behind her and climbed up onto the roof. The streets were nearly devoid of life. The road would have had hundreds of people walking down each side in the daytime, but in the dead of the night, there were only three. The canals were a little less lifeless. She could see at least a dozen glowing creatures slowly swimming about, but they carried themselves with far more lethargy than they did during the usual waking hours.


    It was a scene of peace, tranquility. And that was precisely why her mind began to wander.


    When she looked upon the castle, whose otherwise perfect white was still marred from the coup, she found herself recalling the witch¡¯s invitation. Her face went red and her heart sped up as well. Arciel had used their familiarity as an excuse, and while it was certainly an undeniable factor, the cat knew better than to assume that it was the whole truth. She had been too disappointed, following the rejections, for someone that was simply seeking comfort.


    To be the target of the queen¡¯s affections was like something out of a fairytale. But as much as Natalya would have liked to live that life, she found it impossible to convince herself to accept. Ciel was by no means the problem. The imperial bloodkraken was a lovely young lady with a beautiful smile and a gravity-defying chest. She was kind as well, and incredibly sweet on those that were close to her. If the others had accepted, Lia would have happily followed suit. But given the status quo, she had chosen to remain exactly where she was. On the wrong side of the fence.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to try a little harder.¡± She hugged her tail to her chest as she closed her eyes and turned onto her side. It was so quiet that she could hear her heart beating against her rib cage and begging to be set free.


    Pressing a hand to it, and curving her lips into a gentle smile, she took a deep breath and continued on her way.


    They were already living together. She had already stopped her from running off.


    One last push was all she needed to break down the walls that still remained.

 Chapter 276 - Cooks and Crooks VIII

    Chapter 276 - Cooks and Crooks VIII


    Lia awoke the next morning to a quiet sunrise. It was colder out than usual, thanks to the chilly morning breeze, but as a ball on the roof of her shop, she hadn¡¯t noticed until she stirred to life. Half falling off the building, she dropped down in front of it to find the doors already open. Hardly a surprise. She had expected her apprentice to wake up and run off come first light. She had never asked for the details, but he always had some sort of business in the mornings.


    What did surprise her, however, was the fact that Claire and Sylvia were already seated at the desk, with one attentive and the other unconscious. The sleepy, wide-eyed cat immediately spun around and looked down the street. Surely enough, the sun was exactly where she thought it was, just high enough above the horizon for the orange, morning glow to have finally faded away. And it remained in position even after she cleaned her glasses and pinched her cheeks.


    It was not because she had the only key that she was so utterly bamboozled, but rather that they were present at all. Neither had a particularly strong work ethic, and their regular schedules dictated that they shouldn¡¯t have arrived for another three hours.


    ¡°Good morning.¡± Lia waved with one hand while stifling a yawn with the other. ¡°You¡¯re here early.¡± For some odd reason¡ªshe couldn¡¯t quite tell what exactly¡ªthe shop felt a little more spacious than usual, but she soon shrugged it off as a figment of her imagination.


    ¡°Welcome to the ridiculously named shop on Fourth Street. How might I be of service today?¡± The moose returned her greeting with a picture-perfect smile. The contents of her words aside, she was putting on a masterful performance, exactly as expected of a star employee. Not that any such employee existed.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with the name,¡± huffed the cat. ¡°It rolls right off the tongue.¡±


    ¡°Wrong.¡± The friendly air vanished, replaced in a heartbeat by the lyrkress¡¯ usual blank stare. Just cold and empty enough to send a shiver up the catgirl¡¯s spine. ¡°It¡¯s a mouthful.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not having this argument again.¡± Natalya was about to enter the counter when she looked towards the private rooms. ¡°Looks like Ruben¡¯s still here.¡±


    Because it was difficult to determine if a room was in use at a glance, the trio had devised a system that made use of the fox¡¯s magic. If the room was empty, the door would appear as usual, but if it was occupied, an illustration of the occupant would be carved into its panel. Technically, it was the second iteration. The original system had made use of a paper ledger kept at the front desk, but Natalya was the only one that had ever bothered to keep it up to date.


    ¡°He tried to leave a few minutes ago,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°I told him to sleep in. We¡¯re going to be having breakfast soon.¡±


    ¡°Breakfast?¡±


    Lia followed the lyrkress¡¯ eyes, but even then, it took her a while to realise that something was amiss. For the first few seconds, her groggy mind failed to process the scene laid before her. But the longer she stared, the stranger it seemed. The dining hall was much larger than it had been just a few days prior, and the kitchen at its far end was no doubt a new addition. Just like the person standing inside it.


    His species was the only familiar thing about him. He had a massive, ten-foot frame covered in thick, silver hairs, many of which were tinged by a gold faded in days long past. His arms, which were just as lightly fuzzed as the rest of his skin, were so muscular that they were thicker than her waist, and his head was adorned with a flowing mane slicked back and tied with thick leather bands. His emerald gaze was sharp but mellow, gentle but judging, kind but cruel.


    As far as technicalities were concerned, they were derived from the same race; he was a cat-sith that had strayed far from the norm, a man that had chosen to forgo the humble, laid-back nature typically possessed by one of his sex. And he had the battle scars to match. His body was marred by faded cuts, evidence that he had been heavily wounded by a cursed weapon and subsequently repaired by some unskilled priest or other. Either that, or they had been left intentionally, as a means of refining his image.


    His darkened nose was a tell-tale sign of his age, even more distinct than the colour of his mane. He could have easily been her grandfather, or perhaps an ancient ancestor. Which of those was true, only the man would know. For while his second ascension, like hers, had granted five hundred years of life, it was impossible to tell when exactly it had been earned.


    ¡°Are you the owner?¡± He spoke in a rough growl. His voice was so deep that it rattled the cutlery as it pulsed through the floor.


    The catgirl¡¯s half-awake brain was immediately shaken free of its shackles. Her bleary vision cleared, and her slouched back snapped straight as a rod. She nearly assumed him an intruder, but Claire¡¯s inattention was reason enough to deduce that he was only present with her consent. Of course, that much was given from the kitchen¡¯s remodelling. Sylvia would never have made the mistake of randomly following a stranger¡¯s instructions.


    ¡°I am.¡± She walked up to the man and extended her hand. ¡°I¡¯m Natalya Vernelle, Armidian Fastpaw, and the general manager. Who might you be?¡±


    The much larger cat eyed her mitt for half a second before grabbing it with his own. ¡°Garm. Panterloch.¡± He gave it a solid shake before crossing his arms and looking her over again. ¡°I heard that you were looking for a cook,¡± his voice was relaxed, but his eyes were still sharp, ¡°And I figured that we could help each other out. If we happened to impress each other.¡±


    Natalya paused for a moment to examine him more closely. ¡°You aren¡¯t Paunsean, are you?¡±


    ¡°My parents were, but me, I¡¯m Vel¡¯khanese through and through.¡± He continued to speak as he got to work. He gently picked up half a dozen eggs in his claw-tipped hands and broke them in a bowl. ¡°Allergic to anything I should be aware of?¡± Though his tool of choice was a massive, lion-sized ladle, he had no trouble beating the unborn seabirds into a creamy, homogenized paste.


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    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± He threw another handful of eggs into the mixture before pouring it into a large pan. Even without a fire, the cast-iron skillet was red-hot, courtesy of the lightning he ran through its frame. ¡°I can make most things if you get me the ingredients, but this is pretty much all I can do with what we¡¯ve got on hand.¡± He pointed at the chalkboard behind him. The menu was on the simpler side, featuring a small list of omelettes and meats. ¡°But you¡¯ll probably be better off just trusting me and letting me do my thing.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take your word for it,¡± said the relatively hairless cat.


    ¡°Good choice.¡±


    A toothy grin on his lips, the obscenely muscular lion grabbed an onion off the counter. He chucked it into the air, just to bash it into his pan with his ladle. He flattened it with a second strike and cubed it with a third, cutting it easily with the metal spoon¡¯s edge. While it looked somewhat ridiculous, it was an ability that proved his prowess as a chef. Using the right tool would certainly facilitate the process, but cooking was not the sort of task that required some specific implement or other. Cutting a watermelon with a boulder, for example, was not impossible¡ªit only took more time and patience than it would to saw it apart with a knife. A more malleable chef could make do with an even cruder tool, or perhaps even find a way to prepare the melon without a tool at all.


    Before long, the building was filled with the scent of sizzling meat, dressed perfectly with spices from the underwater forest nearby. The delicious aroma wafted outside, attracting the attention of the local commuters as well. They veered into the shop, two or three at a time, just to inquire about the food. But alas, with their chef still in the midst of negotiating the terms of his employment, Lia had no choice but to apologize and turn them away. On the lion¡¯s end, it was a good impression. He was already proving himself an asset, capable of providing an uptick in business with just his standard fare.


    ¡°Alright, it¡¯s done.¡± He tapped a small bell atop his counter as he frisbeed a set of plates onto a nearby table. ¡°Five orders of honey wheat pancakes with sausage omelettes and Ryllian herbs.¡± The food and cutlery followed soon after, flying through the air and onto the plates, where it was arranged with haphazard perfection. ¡°Give it a shot. Tell me what you think.¡±


    ¡°It looks really good,¡± said Lia. She pulled up a chair and sat down, with everyone else joining her at the table soon after. Boris was first. He warped straight onto the wooden platform and positioned himself on top of a dish, while everyone else slowly wandered over.


    Sylvia began to stir when her face was placed next to her plate, her nose twitching all the while, but Ruben had to be shaken, though it was difficult to say if he was made more conscious by the lyrkress¡¯ efforts. The killer-turned-receptionist had churned him with such vigour that he wound up collapsed at the table, his eyes swirling like a storm.


    ¡°Of course it looks good,¡± said the man, with a snort. ¡°I used to make hundreds of these a day.¡± He walked out from behind the counter and approached with his arms crossed. ¡°Now what are you waiting for? Hurry up. Dig in before it gets cold.¡±


    Nodding, the cat picked up her tableware in a way that immediately earned the lyrkress¡¯ disdain and set her sights on her omelette. The eggy outer layer was every bit as fluffy as it looked, bursting with a few hints of a still silky yolk when she cut it with her fork. When she pressed a piece into her mouth, she found her eyes sparkling and her tastebuds flooded with flavour. Thick, meaty juices poured out from within and escorted her tongue to the realm above.


    ¡°This is delicious.¡±


    When she looked around the table, she found her opinion very clearly shared. The kid was still not conscious enough to eat, but Sylvia was humming and Boris had already finished his portion, plate, fork, and all. Claire was the only one who hadn¡¯t reacted, though that, Lia felt, was a given.


    ¡°Glad to hear it.¡± The man threw his apron over his shoulder and cracked his neck. ¡°Now it¡¯s your turn.¡± His knuckles soon imitated the bones in his spine, popping as he flexed his bulging muscles. ¡°Meet me in the other room when you¡¯re done.¡± He marched into the auditorium, humming a popular children¡¯s song as his face became a predatory grin.


    Lia waited until the door was fully closed behind him before she started to speak. ¡°I was definitely expecting something, but not this,¡± she said, in a whisper. ¡°Where the hell did you find him? This is even better than most of the stuff you find in high-end restaurants.¡±


    ¡°The northern wharf,¡± said Claire. ¡°Where else would you find a pirate?¡±


    ¡°You know that¡¯s not what I meant,¡± mumbled the cat, as a second bite reached her lips.


    ¡°He¡¯s not the only one we found either!¡± said Sylvia, her chest puffed up with pride. ¡°We even managed to get this doctor lady thing. I think she¡¯s supposed to be coming in a little bit later.¡±


    ¡°After lunch,¡± said the longmoose. ¡°Now hurry up and eat.¡± She magically lifted the rest of the omelette off the cat¡¯s place and bumped it against her cheek.


    ¡°I¡¯m tryi¡ª¡± Her breakfast was crammed into her mouth the moment she opened it to speak. Claire slid it down her throat without mercy¡ªomelettes, pancakes, toast, and all¡ªand denied her both the opportunity to taste or chew. There was a brief moment of silence after the fact, followed by a gulp as the cat¡¯s throat flapped about in confusion. ¡°Claire!¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I was going to take my time with it.¡± The strength drained from the Paunsean¡¯s limbs as she realised that her delicious breakfast had been thoroughly denied.


    ¡°You can do that at lunch. Now go beat him up.¡± She assumed her lyrkrian form just to pluck the cat out of her chair. ¡°You¡¯re keeping him waiting.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay. I get it already. You don¡¯t have to be so pushy.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not being pushy.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnnn, I dunno Claire,¡± said Sylvia, with a fork still in her mouth. ¡°You¡¯re literally pushing her right now.¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not.¡± The lyrkress wheeled the cat forward as she spoke, not even blinking as her lies were brought to light.


    Lia was still a little suspicious, but knowing that Claire would have done a much better job of hiding her feelings if she was up to no good, she decided not to mind it. For the most part, her evaluation was not incorrect. Claire was mainly ushering her along as a means of recouping time lost. Planning and executing the morning event had cost her a fair bit of sleep, and she had every intention of getting it all back. With that said, she still wasn¡¯t quite sure if she needed it in the first place¡ªshe wasn¡¯t the slightest bit tired¡ªbut whatever the case, she was in the mood for a nap. And with Sylvia so dysfunctional, she would need the cat to return to desk duty before she found herself a bed.


    ¡°Wait a second!¡± shouted the humanoid hat. ¡°You were just thinking something super rude, weren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    A faint smile on her face, Claire dropped the cat inside the auditorium and returned to her seat. There was already a customer approaching the empty front desk, but he would just have to wait his turn. Delicious as it was, her breakfast wasn¡¯t going to savour itself.

 Chapter 277 - Cooks and Crooks IX

    Chapter 277 - Cooks and Crooks IX


    Lia placed her hands on her hips and huffed as she watched the double doors close behind her. The lyrkress¡¯ expression¡ªa subtle smile by most standards but a blatant smirk by hers¡ªleft the cat with a headache and a half. She wanted to scold her for the inconsiderate prank, but she knew that she wouldn¡¯t listen. In all likelihood, Claire would simply fall asleep without so much as hearing the fifth word to come out of her mouth.


    Even worse was her own take on the event. She couldn¡¯t stay mad, not after seeing the mischievous glimmer in the halfbreed¡¯s eyes. For some ridiculous, unbelievable reason, she was more cross with herself than she was her companion. She hated her inability to approach the problem with a clear and rational mind¡ªa spark that only served as a downward spiral that plagued her already aching brain.


    ¡°Looks like your friend liked the food.¡± The pirate greeted her with a toothy grin. He was seated in the middle of the massive room, legs crossed, and his arms held in a meditative pose. His shirt was gone, revealing a bare chest covered in the same old wounds as his arms, and his dress pants had been replaced by a pair of shorts, ripped at the end of each leg by his bulging, muscular thighs.


    Of course, that was not to say that his clothes had simply upped and vanished. They were carefully folded in a neat pile and placed in the far corner, right beside the weapon rack. His ladle was there too, doubling as a weight to keep his garments in place.


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty rare for her to like something,¡± said Natalya, with a faint smile. ¡°You must be one skilled chef.¡±


    The lion shrugged. ¡°It comes with time. Anyone that¡¯s been at it for as long as me is bound to pick up a few tricks.¡± He took a swig from one of the wine bottles seated beside him while offering the other to his prospective employer. ¡°What are you doing still standing up? Come on, relax.¡±


    ¡°Relax?¡± Natalya adjusted her glasses as her tail curiously rose into the air. ¡°I thought we were going to spar.¡±


    ¡°Spar? Why the hell would we spar?¡± he asked, with a hearty laugh.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you just crack your knuckles?¡±


    ¡°My joints aren¡¯t what they used to be,¡± he said, with another crack of the neck. ¡°I didn¡¯t even realise that this was an indoor arena. I assumed it was an office.¡±


    ¡°Right. We should probably carve a few windows into the doors.¡± Smiling awkwardly, she sat down in front of the lion and accepted the drink. ¡°So what were you looking to talk about?¡±


    ¡°I wanted to hear more about this whole thing you¡¯ve got going on. Thing is, I¡¯m looking for something that¡¯ll be stable in the long run, and the little birdie I know that told me about this place said that it¡¯s got good prospects. And a connection with the Silkroad Company. Is that true?¡±


    Natalya flicked the cap off her bottle and took a small sip. ¡°The Silkroad Company¡¯s proprietress happens to be a personal contact of mine, but she has no stake in this business,¡± said Natalya. ¡°However, we were provided with a written guarantee that the Silkroad Company will purchase any high-quality goods that we happen to procure.¡±


    ¡°So they aren¡¯t backing you, but it¡¯s not like they¡¯re leaving you out to dry either.¡± The lion scratched his head, a pensive frown on his lips.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± said Lia, with a nod. ¡°We have a few other connections as well, but I would rather not discuss our network in detail for the time being. It doesn¡¯t matter how well acquainted we are if we aren¡¯t profitable.¡±


    ¡°And how¡¯s everything going on that front?¡±


    ¡°There have been a few good signs, but we¡¯re still a little bit shy of hitting our target. I¡¯ve been drafting up a few plans to put us back on the right path, and hiring a cook is near the top of my list.¡±


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­ Sounds like you have the right attitude at least. I thought you¡¯d just be another rich brat, but you seem pretty earnest.¡± Garm crossed his arms and gave her an appraising look. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m in.¡±


    Lia produced her notebook and quickly scribbled in a few lines. ¡°That¡¯s great,¡± she said, with a smile. ¡°Based on your skill level, your salary should be in the range o¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hold on. I wasn¡¯t done.¡± The lion raised a hand. ¡°Now the thing is, we pirates have a rule. And I might be retired from that sorta life, but it ain¡¯t exactly easy to abandon your old habits.¡± He emptied the rest of his bottle and slowly got to his feet. ¡°And the rule is that we only listen to people that are stronger than us. So either you or yer crew has gotta put me in my place if ye ain¡¯t wanton¡¯ no ideas aboot some mutiny.¡±


    Natalya closed her notebook and pressed its spine against her forehead. Her eyes were closed, and her breath a tired sigh. ¡°Didn¡¯t you just say that we weren''t going to spar?¡±


    ¡°That fur ah wasn¡¯t taken¡¯ ye seriously.¡± His eyes twinkled and his words accelerated. ¡°I thought you was just a dumb wee lassie wi¡¯ too much cash on her hauns, aye? Bit it turns oot ye¡¯ve git a good hauf gid head on yer shoulde¡ª¡± He clasped a hand over his mouth, prompted largely by the smaller cat¡¯s raised brow. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said, with a cough. ¡°Force of habit.¡±


    Lia smiled awkwardly. ¡°Right.¡± She placed her drink by the weapon rack and drew a wooden longsword. ¡°What do you normally use?¡±


    ¡°A sharpened oar would be great, even better if it had an arbalest on it,¡± he said, with a chuckle. ¡°But a regular spear¡¯ll do just fine.¡±


    ¡°We can arrange for one,¡± said Lia. ¡°One second.¡± She pushed the door open and stuck her head outside. ¡°Sylvie! Can I borrow you for a second?¡±


    ¡°Uhhhmm¡­ sure? What¡¯s up?¡± The fox, who was already done eating, wandered over to the gym in her elven form.


    ¡°Can you make him a weapon really quickly? He has something really specific in mind.¡±


    ¡°Mmmk.¡± She took half a moment to look into the man¡¯s eyes before lightly humming into existence the object lingering in the back of his head. One moment, it was a chunk of magic, and the next, it was built perfectly to spec. There were a dozen arrows set down on the floor beside it, as well as a quiver, the design of which featured a lion¡¯s skull with a thick mane scribbled into its tassel.


    ¡°Ye hae git to be kiddin me. I hadn¡¯t hauf a chance to even describe the damn thing.¡± Garm picked the weapon up in his massive claws, and after prodding himself in the cheek and drawing a sliver of blood, immediately returned to his seated position. His weapon was set down in front of him, and his hands were held in the air. ¡°I yield.¡±


    Lia smiled awkwardly. ¡°Yeah, I know what you mean. She¡¯s always been a little¡­ ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°Uhhhmmmmm¡­ I¡¯m not really sure what¡¯s going on, but does this mean he¡¯s gonna join us?¡± asked the fox.


    ¡°That¡¯s the plan,¡± he said. ¡°So long as the job comes with room and board, on top of a half-decent wage.¡±


    Lia placed her blade back on the shelf and arranged the oar beside it as she considered his terms. ¡°I was going to start by offering two silver pieces a month, which should easily cover both.¡±


    Even in a bustling metropolis like Vel¡¯khagan, one silver piece a month was enough to comfortably get by. Though the precise value would change, based on the market¡¯s conditions, a single silver piece was usually worth about two hundred and fifty coppers. A sizable apartment in the nicer part of town cost about a hundred a month, and decent grub ran the same number. Taxes had previously required yet another hundred, but with the new queen¡¯s most recent reforms, that particular expense had fallen closer to sixty. Two silvers was enough to indulge in luxury, as a chef so skilled would surely desire.


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    ¡°But if you¡¯re looking for room and board specifically, I¡¯ll have to have a bit of a chat with the others first. Would you mind waiting here while we sort that out? It should only be a few minutes.¡±


    The lion nodded. ¡°¡®Course.¡±


    ¡°Great. We¡¯ll be right back.¡± Foxgirl in tow, Lia stepped out of the gym and closed the door behind her, only to be immediately met with a prod. A less lyrkrian Claire was standing on the other side with an unhappy glare sitting on her face.


    ¡°I¡¯m not living with an old man.¡±


    ¡°I figured you¡¯d say that,¡± said Lia, with a quiet giggle. ¡°I was thinking that we could maybe add another floor to the shop instead. Like a dorm for the employees.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t we just stick him in one of those?¡± asked Sylvia. She pointed to the napping rooms, all of which were vacant, courtesy of a certain tiny bear¡¯s departure.


    ¡°I know that would work, but I don¡¯t like the idea of an employee having full access to the store after hours. I wouldn¡¯t mind if it was one of you, but I can¡¯t really trust a new hire the same way.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ That¡¯s a good point,¡± said the fox. ¡°But how would having another floor fix that anyway? Wouldn¡¯t it still be the same?¡±


    ¡°I was thinking that we could make it so that the second floor¡¯s rooms are only accessible from the outside,¡± explained Natalya. ¡°Like how some of the apartment buildings do it.¡±


    ¡°Rejected,¡± said Claire. ¡°That would ruin the building¡¯s aesthetic.¡±


    ¡°Right. I guess it would look a little strange for someone to be randomly living on top of the business,¡± muttered the cat.


    ¡°Oh, oh, oh! I have an idea!¡± said Sylvia, with a hand raised. ¡°What if we added a thingy that floats above the building instead? So kinda like one of those giant battleship mansions that Claire¡¯s people have, but not a castle. I dunno how their stuff works, but I can probably make ours with magic. It can be like, a giant flying boat or something, since he¡¯s a sailor.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t address the problem,¡± said Claire, with a roll of the eyes. ¡°It¡¯d still ruin the aesthetic.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! It¡¯ll look awesome,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°People¡¯ll probably come see it just ¡®cause it¡¯s neat.¡±


    ¡°If we¡¯re worried about how it looks, why don¡¯t we just use the warehouse instead?¡± suggested Natalya. ¡°It¡¯s not like we¡¯re getting much other use out of it right now anyway.¡±


    The cat had tried to make use of the gambled space, but there was far too little product to justify its continued existence. The number of goods stocked was hardly enough to fill one of its corners; they could have very easily moved it all into the store without adding to the clutter.


    ¡°That could work,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I still kinda wanna do the floating boat thing, but that¡¯s okay too I guess,¡± agreed Sylvia.


    ¡°Great. I¡¯ll go give him the news.¡± Lia jotted a few things into her notebook as she made her way back into the gym and discussed the updated conditions. His pay would be docked accordingly, down from two silvers to one and a half, but he would be allowed to use the shop¡¯s ingredients as he pleased, free of charge. The extra seventy-five coppers served as a buffer or allowance that would cover any days wherein the shop happened to be closed. She didn¡¯t have any such events planned for the foreseeable future, but they seemed likely enough, all things considered.


    Garm had happily taken the deal without bothering to negotiate. It was decided that he would move in later that week, following the building¡¯s renovation. As for the work itself, that began as soon as he signed the contract. He was already sitting in the kitchen, brooding over the various menu items that he intended to serve.


    Everyone else had more or less returned to their posts. Lia and Sylvia manned the desk, while Claire slept in one of the many vacant rooms. There were even a few customers rolling in on occasion, most of whom asked Lia for some sort of advice or other.


    For a brief moment, it looked like the rest of the morning would proceed as usual, but there was a knock on the door just as the thought passed through the catgirl¡¯s mind. A lady in a white coat walked through, her hands in her pockets and a smoking pipe in her mouth. Her leathery wings were slumped behind her, dragging along the ground with her cetacean tail. The siren¡¯s eyebags were ever present, the impression of which was only worsened by her monocle.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t really look like a clinic. Am I in the right place?¡± She muttered the question to herself as she looked around. She even stepped out for a moment to look at the sign before returning to the store¡¯s interior. Once back inside, she slowly looked around, nodding first at the familiar lion and then directing her attention towards the front desk.


    ¡°Oh! Hey Stella!¡± said Sylvia, with a friendly wave.


    The freshly unemployed vet raised a brow. ¡°Do I know you?¡±


    ¡°What the heck! This is literally the third time we¡¯ve met!¡± huffed the fox. ¡°How the heck did you already forget!? We talked for like a whole hour yesterday!¡±


    ¡°Your voice seems familiar, but¡­¡± The doctor looked the girl up and down. ¡°You seem a lot bigger, and your bone structure doesn¡¯t seem to match.¡±


    ¡°Well, yeah! Fairies don¡¯t need that many bones,¡± huffed the fox. ¡°Anyway! I¡¯m glad you finally made it! Claire¡¯s asleep right now, but Lia can probably tell you everything.¡± She grabbed the other girl by the shoulders and moved her between them.


    ¡°Good morning.¡± The catgirl smiled awkwardly and extended her hand. ¡°I¡¯m Natalya Vernelle, Armidian Fastpaw, and the owner of The Misguided Adventurers¡¯ Consulting Company.¡±


    ¡°Estelle Dupont, Starsand Siren.¡± The vet pulled a pale hand out of her coat and lightly shook the catgirl¡¯s extended mitt. The limb was retracted as soon as they were done. She wiped it on the hem of her coat and shoved it back into her pocket. ¡°I¡¯m a doctor, and I was told that this was supposed to be the clinic of my dreams.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not so sure about the dreams part, but we are looking for medical staff,¡± said Natalya. ¡°Our healer is great when it counts,¡± she turned her eyes on the fox in question, ¡°but she spends most of her time napping, and isn¡¯t trained in classical theory.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmnnn, I don¡¯t nap that much,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯m definitely up for at least four hours a day.¡±


    ¡°Setting that aside for now,¡± said Lia, with a chuckle, ¡°would you like to take a look at the facility?¡±


    The doctor nodded. ¡°Please.¡±


    ¡°Right this way then.¡± Lia got out from behind the counter and walked to the far side of the building. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure what Claire told you, but I wouldn¡¯t get your hopes up. It¡¯s pretty much a standard medical ward. We¡¯re short on supplies at the moment since Sylvia just handles everything with magic, but we¡¯d be happy to stock up on whatever is needed.¡±


    The infirmary was fairly high-traffic; the average citizen was fairly slow to regenerate their health, given the lack of a reason to invest any points in vitality. As such, it was common practice to stop by the nearest healer¡¯s when injured, even if the wound was likely to close over the course of the day. It was simply more efficient to throw away a few spare coppers and jump back into work than it was to take a day of leave, in the case of an accident¡ªand oh so many accidents there were.


    Because of the widespread availability of medical services, each labour site was prone to seeing a few injuries a day; the only safety precautions taken were present to ensure that no one was instantly killed, for a man with even a sliver of health could immediately be restored to working order with a casual touch. There were a number of medical offices on the main street, but the cat¡¯s shop was the only one on fourth, and it just so happened to be slightly more convenient for those working in the surrounding area.


    Sylvia hadn¡¯t quite minded the first few patients, but she was steadily growing more annoyed with constantly waking up just to fix some idiot¡¯s broken shoulder or twisted ankle.


    When Lia entered the ward, she found that it too had gone through a number of changes since she had last seen it. Most notably, there was another room at the far end, guarded by a glass door. It was a highly vertical space with a number of small cauldrons hanging above a hearth. Everything else was still the same, albeit a little less messy than usual. The bandages, for once, were in the cabinets as opposed to strewn about, and only the fox¡¯s favourite bed was left with its sheets unfolded. The rest were prim and proper, sporting only a few random medical tools scattered atop their mattresses.


    While Lia was somewhat embarrassed, mainly by the bed still covered in fox hair, the doctor had a gleam in her eyes. She looked around for a few moments, inspecting the various materials before finally plopping herself down on the examination table. ¡°Not bad,¡± she said, with a puff of smoke. She pulled a few items out of her pockets and threw each at the cat in turn. One was her information broker¡¯s license, while the other was a medical equivalent issued by the local college. ¡°One silver a week and I¡¯m all yours.¡±


    ¡°H-huh?¡± The catgirl¡¯s cheeks reddened. ¡°I¡¯m flattered, but I¡¯ve alre¡ªer, I mean, that seems a little high.¡±


    With five weeks in a month, she would be earning more than twice as much as the chef.


    ¡°I¡¯m worth it,¡± said the siren, as she regarded the cat with a raised brow. ¡°I¡¯ll double as a broker while I¡¯m here, and I¡¯ll use what I know to hook you up with anyone you need. Hell, I¡¯ll even volunteer any information that seems like it might be relevant.¡±


    ¡°Let me think about it for a second.¡± Lia grabbed her notepad and quickly scribbled in a few numbers. She moved a few of them around and repeated a number of transactions. When she finally snapped the book shut, roughly two full minutes later, she did so with her lips twisted into a frown. ¡°Four a month is the best I can do for now, but we can bump it up if your information brokerage brings in enough customers. Let¡¯s say¡­ at least twenty a week?¡±


    The siren spent a few moments with her arms in her pockets, fiddling with some object or other as she crunched the numbers. ¡°Alright. Deal.¡± Her lips were twisted into a smile. A content but fierce grin.


    The silver-haired girl was right. The misguided-whatever-it-was-called was the perfect place to start anew.

 Chapter 278 - Cooks and Crooks X

    Chapter 278 - Cooks and Crooks X


    Claire slowly straightened her back, yawning as she pushed herself out of a warm, fluffy bed. Even without fully opening her eyes, she could already tell that she was back in Cadria. The first days of spring had already passed, but the castle was still a little colder than it was in the summer. Not quite enough to bother her, given her inbuilt resistance, but chilly enough that she could easily feel the difference through her false skin.


    Perhaps because of their last shared experience, the fake was giddy, readily welcoming her into her body, and even greeting her with a mental glomp. She was excited as a small child, bouncing up and down inside her mind as she begged to see the faraway land again. Alas, the request was denied with a shake of the head. Claire had a goal in mind. And she couldn¡¯t just up and leave without attempting to see it through.


    The fake was a little reluctant at first, citing the whole act¡¯s futility, but it soon acquiesced and relinquished full control. Claire couldn¡¯t help but agree. Even as she changed out of her nightgown and into a dress, she found herself dreading all the possible encounters. The guards had likely just wrapped up their training, given the hour. They were sure to be out and about, doing whatever they wanted on the castle¡¯s grounds, and Durham was not the only one she wished to avoid.


    She could only enviously recall her squid friend¡¯s circumstances as she pried open the window and climbed outside. The castle was more difficult to scale than the manor, but her vector magic was more than enough to make up the difference, even with her prowess greatly diminished.


    Floating unsteadily, she landed on top of the building and scampered along its slanted roof. The guards positioned across the sky were quick to take note, but while some immediately grew ripe with concern, their worries were quickly dismissed by their more seasoned peers. Had she still been alive, Lady Violet surely would have scolded anyone that got in the way of the half-snake¡¯s climbs. And her wishes were well respected by those that still had her in recent memory.


    Claire carefully scanned the castle grounds from her elevated position and plotted a route that would evade most persons of interest. She had no idea where her father was, but avoiding the barracks would steer her clear of most of the fighters she had in mind. Durham would likely still be in the library, meditating in silence while his direct reports patrolled the halls.


    The gardens were to be avoided as well, as Alice was likely to be visiting them. Claire had nothing against the younger girl. In fact, she would have loved for a chance to see her, but she had no time for the resulting distraction. The longer she stayed, the more likely it was that she would be discovered.


    Sprouting wings from her back, she hopped from roof to roof with all the speed and grace the fake¡¯s body could produce. For the most part, the journey was smooth. The guards hovered nearby, in case she fell, but otherwise stayed out of her way. Better yet, no one had made any mention of sending word for her father, or any of her other family members, for that matter. And despite what some of the greener knights thought, it was every bit the right decision. She had no intention of hearing a sermon given by anyone besides her mother.


    There was the rare occasion where she took Allegra¡¯s advice as well, but that was mostly because the rabbit refused to stay silent. For a moment, Claire felt an old twitch in the back of her chest, a faint longing. It was less a set of words or sounds, and more so an intangible stream of feelings. Sadness, lament, concern, and affection. They were not her emotions, but the fake¡¯s. And though they hadn¡¯t quite gone through the same experiences, she was not entirely inclined to disagree.


    The grand magus had always been an eccentric woman. And it was precisely said eccentricity that was the source of her charm. She always made ridiculous decisions in complete defiance of common sense and got herself in all sorts of trouble, but every time, she would keep her wits about her and power through with her head held high. Claire respected that part of her¡ªnot the whole ridiculous part, of course, but her ability to follow through on her commitments. She surely would have been willing to learn from the woman had she only been a little less naggy and annoying. It didn¡¯t help that the witch had never been able to read the room; she always got carried away whenever her favourite topics were discussed, in spite of the other party¡¯s disinterest.


    But for all her faults and flaws, the rabbit was still the woman to have raised her following her mother¡¯s passing. Allegra was there when her father never was. And that was why she missed her. She didn¡¯t want to talk to her, gods forbid her ears were lectured off, but she still did want to see her. At least briefly.


    Alas, it wasn¡¯t meant to be. She hadn¡¯t the slightest clue where she had gone in the wake of the previous king¡¯s death. The fake had heard nothing, even after asking around. Though it was perhaps thanks to her dubious methods that she had hardly seen any results. Because she couldn¡¯t talk, the homunculus had run around the castle pointing to an illustration that she had personally crafted. And that therein lay the problem.


    The snide remark immediately earned an indignant huff from the creature in her head, but she ignored it and pressed on. After all, a few random squiggly shapes did not a rabbit witch make. The continued protest echoing through her mind was cute in a way. She almost wanted to pet the fake¡¯s head, or perhaps tug her cheeks like she often did to her favourite cheese-coloured dog, but she refrained. Performing any such action on her own body felt ridiculous and undignified at best.


    After a long trek across the rooftops, Claire finally arrived at her destination, all the way on the far end of the northern wing. It was there that the king went about his business in private and performed his duties throughout the day, and it was there that his meals would be prepared.


    Her presence was certainly a surprise to the servants inside. The northern wing was meant to function as the king¡¯s private quarters, wherein only he and his servants were allowed, but no one openly objected to her presence. Though there was much reasonable doubt¡ªgiven his reputation as an invincible commander and hers as a lazy wallflower¡ªthat she would ever come close to outliving him, the lyrkress was technically her father¡¯s designated successor.


    If he was to fall, for whatever reason, she would take his place for the brief few moments in the country¡¯s history to follow. It was her job to serve as Cadria¡¯s final ruler, and to bring about an amicable ending for its populace as the enemy armies closed in. And to take the fall so that the Cadrian flame could one day be ignited again.


    In short, her role was unchanged. In the fatherland¡¯s eyes, she was still a sacrifice.


    The mere thought was maddening. Had she been in private, she surely would have shattered her teeth with a violent grit, bloodied her hands with her fists clenched, and perhaps even pulled out her hair in a last-ditch attempt to cope with her rage. She wanted nothing more than to strangle everyone around her for daring to consider the possibility.


    But she showed exactly none of that on the surface. She walked around silently instead, avoiding the various guards and maids as she carefully navigated the halls.


    By following a woman with a half-empty trolley, she eventually found her way to the kitchen, where she spotted a familiar chef. Amereth was bouncing back and forth as quickly as her giant shark tail could carry her. There were six other cooks in the space, but she was personally putting everything together and watching over all her subordinates to ensure that the results met her standard of quality.


    She continued fussing about for a few minutes before she noticed the guest in her domain.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Good morning, Claire.¡± She hopped over after a brief delay. The way she smiled was intimidating for the uninitiated, but Claire had known, for a long, long time, that she only meant well when she flashed her teeth. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen you since we moved into the castle. Have you been doing well? Frank isn¡¯t botching your meals, is he?¡±


    Claire paused for a moment before nodding her head and opening her mouth. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Amereth. Never happier.¡±


    There was a bit of a pause, with the kelpfin nearly dropping the half-frosted cake she had in her fins, but she caught herself in time to prevent the freshly baked sweet from slipping off the plate. Setting it down on the nearest countertop, she took a few breaths and finally returned her eyes to the lady whose meals she had once carefully handcrafted.


    ¡°So you really can talk again.¡± She pressed a fin to her apron and breathed a sigh. ¡°I¡¯m glad there was some truth to the rumours.¡±


    ¡°Only sometimes,¡± she said, at the fake¡¯s behest. ¡°It depends. On a few things.¡±


    ¡°Better than never,¡± said the shark, with a smile. ¡°Are you here for a snack?¡±


    ¡°Not this time.¡± Claire shook her head as she reached behind her back, and after pretending to fiddle around, produced an ice-cold vial. ¡°This is for my Father.¡± Its contents were a deep, saffron gold, produced by envenom and concentrated enough that even a bull moose was sure to feel its effect.


    ¡°Is that¡­ honey?¡± asked the shark.


    Claire shook her head. ¡°Close. It¡¯s royal jelly from a thrice ascended daggerwasp hive. It¡¯s a rare Vel¡¯khanese import, but I managed to get some through my connections.¡±


    A half-truth. While the country of origin was certainly correctly enumerated, the product itself was not. Daggerwasps, after all, were entirely fictional beings that she had made up on the spot. In the most technical terms, the yellow-red fluid was leviathan urine, a powerful laxative and diuretic taken straight from the bladder of a legendary beast with a thousand levels. She had learned to produce it following an unfortunate incident, wherein an unorthodox attack had subjected her to its unfortunate effects.


    Amereth was no fool, of course. She raised a brow when confronted with the unknown ingredient and carefully inspected it. She even popped the cork and sniffed its contents for good measure. But perhaps because it was genuinely considered a food-grade ingredient, to be used in alchemy and the like, her suspicions were soon dismissed. ¡°Since when have you had connections?¡±


    ¡°Since a few months ago,¡± said Claire. ¡°You would have known. If you still cooked my meals.¡±


    The shark grimaced. ¡°I would if I could.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Claire met the former vagrant with a kind smile before pointing her finger at the vial. ¡°It¡¯s sweet. A little bit acidic, but it¡¯ll go well with a bitter drink.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s see.¡± Amereth dipped a fin into the vial and gave it a lick. It was a choice that she would later regret, but for the time being, it had no effect. The slow-acting poison would only show up in her logs when its effect took hold. ¡°It does seem quite pleasant. I¡¯ll make sure to put some in your father¡¯s breakfast.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Amereth. And please don¡¯t tell him it was from me until he¡¯s finished it. I¡¯d like to know his unbiased opinion.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing,¡± said the shark. ¡°Do you want me to skip the preamble altogether? He might end up a bit suspicious, but it¡¯s probably better than mentioning it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. He¡¯s probably too busy to listen in the fir¡ª¡±


    The claim was cut off by a sudden motion; the whole world seemed to shift as she was lifted into the air, held by the scuff like an unintelligent pet. Claire glanced into the shark¡¯s eyes, and nearly scoffed when she saw the familiar figure reflected within them.


    ¡°Good morning, Father.¡± The pricey clothing that adorned his frame was hidden beneath an equally pricey cloak. It wasn¡¯t quite as decorated as the various silks and velvets that made up his wardrobe, but as could be seen from the runes woven into its fabric, it was a rare enchanted artifact that provided a unique ability to its wearer. And in the case of the silvery-red garment, said ability was stealth. It had perfectly silenced his footsteps and kept her from taking notice.


    ¡°Good morning, Claire. It is always a pleasure to see you so full of energy.¡± He restrained her arms before she could reach for her key. ¡°Now if you will excuse us, there is a matter that we are due to discuss.¡±


    ¡°Please, be my guest,¡± said the chef. ¡°You¡¯re the king around here.¡±


    Nodding, the giant moose turned around with the girl still in his grasp, and silently walked down the hall. She started to struggle as soon as the door closed behind them, kicking and scratching, but his grip remained as tough as iron.


    ¡°Let go of me.¡±


    ¡°I will, once we speak.¡±


    ¡°I have nothing to say to the likes of you.¡±


    ¡°Then you will remain restrained.¡±


    Rolling her eyes, the halfbreed warped her hands into sludge and wriggled out of his grasp. She reached for her chest immediately, but a hoof caught her in the back before she could hit the ground. The fake¡¯s body reeled and deformed from the force of the blow, breaking into a thousand pieces as it splattered against a faraway wall.


    ¡°Resorting to violence is not my intention, Claire. Do not force my hand.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right.¡± She broke into a fit of laughter as she pulled her borrowed body together. The bits splattered all over the wall were sucked towards her core, where they were remodelled and reformed. ¡°Violence is the only answer you know. It¡¯s the only answer you¡¯ve ever known.¡±


    The older moose breathed a sigh. ¡°Goad me all you wish. But you know just as well as I that there is hardly any other choice. You will escape, the moment I allow you to do as you please.¡± He stepped over and mutilated her arms with another light kick, right before they could assume their usual shape.


    ¡°And what¡¯s wrong with that?¡± She tried to fix her expression, to reset it to neutral and speak in her usual tone. But she was unable. Her face was scrunched, her teeth were clenched, and her eyes were glowing with a bitter rage. ¡°Are you so insecure that you¡¯d rather kill your own daughter than allow her to escape your influence? I guess you would be, with a heart so shrivelled and dry.¡±


    ¡°I will take care not to kill you.¡± He crushed her arms again as he spoke. ¡°Now tell me, Claire Augustus. Where are you?¡±


    He gave her a calm look, equal parts expectant and disappointed. He was more sober than he had been back then, but she recognised it in a heartbeat. It was the same look that he had given her when he asked her to die.


    Her rage flared. But so too did an equal dose of fear. She couldn¡¯t stop her fingers from trembling, nor her eyes from wavering. Because it was the same cold, confident look he always wore when he was in control.


    ¡°Two strands of magic, divinity, a hint of close combat,¡± he said, nonchalantly. ¡°You should have chosen two close combat classes instead. As it stands, you¡¯ll be too reliant on your spells.¡±


    She narrowed her eyes.


    ¡°I happened to learn it from a group of travelling merchants, several of whom sank into prayer immediately upon seeing your portrait. They weren¡¯t as specific, of course, but they provided enough information for me to deduce your abilities. And your location as well.¡± He bludgeoned her arms again and locked his gaze on hers. ¡°You are operating from Vel¡¯khan. And in all likelihood, you have negotiated some sort of deal with Lord Pollux.¡±


    Claire said nothing. She slowly worked away at her emotions, suppressing them in a bid to return her face to neutral. She knew that he couldn¡¯t read her. It was her one chance to prevent a leak.


    ¡°I will not ask you to come home.¡±


    The claim that followed nearly ruined her plans. It took every last bit of her willpower to stop herself from stiffening up and staring at him with her mouth agape.


    ¡°You will do that in due time, on your own accord.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°There is no way to escape Vella¡¯s web, Claire. You may not see it yet, but you were trapped from the very moment of your birth.¡± The older moose chuckled. ¡°For now, I would like you to meet me in the garden on the second morning of each week. I will teach you to fight.¡± He stepped away once he said his piece and allowed the fake¡¯s arms to be restored.


    ¡°And if I refuse?¡±


    ¡°Then you would be a fool.¡± A self-derisive smile on his face, her father spun around and walked down the empty hall. ¡°Choose reason, Claire, not sentiment, or you will only come to regret your mistakes.¡±


    It appeared that he had achieved his goal. But so too had she hers. Because later that day, the moose would find his bowels so violent that the castle would lose a wall.

 Chapter 278.5 - Prelude of Storm V

    Chapter 278.5 - Prelude of Storm V


    A pair of cloaked figures dashed through the night. Hand in hand, they swam as fast as they could, darting from building to building and shadow to shadow as they desperately fought to escape their enemies¡¯ sights.


    It was a losing battle. The so-called police force had caught them in an encirclement, the noose tightening with every passing moment. Each step taken was one that only led closer to their eventual capture and subsequent demise. Still, the pair pressed on. They couldn¡¯t quite best the hunters, but they didn¡¯t need to. Their ship would arrive in another two weeks, and they had all the necessary funds and supplies secured. To escape and lie low was to emerge victorious.


    On paper, it was easy. They had done it a dozen times already, but the Cadrians were slowly learning their tricks. And with them, the city¡¯s secrets as well.


    Case in point, the men that stepped out in front of them. The alleyway that they had entered was invisible from both above and below, and yet, their pursuers had perfectly traced their location.


    Using their combined strengths, the three policemen threw a large weighted net. Fae steel was the main material used in its construction. It was a durable metal, tougher than cast iron and more flexible than a spider¡¯s silk. Its magic-resistant properties made it perfect for catching wary unicorns. But Nymphetel was not a unicorn. Her crimson blade flashed through the air, shredding steel and soldier alike as she forced her way past the three-man defense. Trails of fresh blood leaked into the water. Dark, syrupy clots, exposed by the light of the moon.


    Her partner cast a spell in the meantime, creating a current that lifted them up into the open seas. Their centaurian pursuers were unable to keep up. Their soaked wings and heavy bodies bogged them down and held them back. But where their bodies were lacking, their weapons certainly were not. A veritable storm of projectiles cut through the sea as if to make up the difference. Each disproportionate blade was fully equipped with the size, shape, and function of a harpoon. To be hit by such a bolt would be unfortunate to say the least. Amputation was the only way to escape a contest of strength, and not every body part was so easily removed.


    Charlotte was already running on fumes. They had just returned from exploring a dungeon when they were suddenly ambushed, but seeing the deadly projectiles, she rattled her bones and squeezed out another spell. The magical pulse she fired through the water transformed into a submarine whirlpool. It swallowed the arrows whole, tangling their ropes as they were introduced to the spiralling waves.


    Another current whisked them away in the meantime. It sped them not towards the surface, but deeper into the city and sea. It was only beneath the waves that they stood a chance. Fighting on land meant dealing with fliers, and neither of them had the necessary tools to avoid their diving strikes.


    It was not just their wings that the marine environment sought to deny. Centaurs were far from hydrodynamic; though they could easily cross rivers if they stayed afloat, their powerful legs were hindered by their ridiculous shapes when they were fully submerged. It was a glaring problem second only to the lack of air. Their lower halves required an excess of it to function, far more than what a standard magical respirator could readily provide.


    That was why their pursuers had carried stone slates on their backs, heavy-duty artifacts that would provide them with all the oxygen their two pairs of lungs so desperately demanded.


    ¡°Do you think we lost them?¡± Nymn spoke aloud as she settled in an alley, her back to the wall and her breathing apparatus fogged up with hot air. The one she carried was the standard model, a thin grey cloth that covered the bottom half of her face. If not for the magical embroidery weaved into its edges, it would have looked no different from an ordinary mask.


    ¡°I think so,¡± said Charlotte. Her voice came not from her fleshless throat, but the stone phylactery that served as her core. ¡°We should give them a bit of a runaround.¡± She tightened her bony fingers around Nymn¡¯s hand. ¡°They¡¯ll figure out the safehouse¡¯s location if we don¡¯t.¡±


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    ¡°Good idea,¡± said the elf, as she scanned their surroundings. Normally, they would have mixed themselves into the crowd and wandered home, but even with many sea creatures still active at night, the oceans were too empty for them to blend in. After all, it simply wasn¡¯t all that difficult to pick out an elf and a lich from a school of fish and shrimp.


    Grimacing, Nymn stretched her legs and began to swim, but warned by her warrior instinct, she backed off just in time to avoid a massive bolt. Even bigger than any of the others fired her way, the whale-hunting harpoon completely destroyed the wall on impact. The fish inside the stained-glass building screamed in terror, but the assailant paid them no mind. Returning the projectile to her shieldlance with a flick of the wrist, its wielder entered the alley with a pompous grin. There was pride in her steps. Though she looked no older than the average heifer, the pony-sized predator was a true seasoned veteran.


    Nymn knew her name. She was Fausta, Fausta Silvanus, one of Pollux¡¯s most deadly elites and a veteran of a dozen wars. Much like Nymphetel, she had been taken under the duke¡¯s wing and trained. The key difference? The pony had successfully completed the ten-year regimen, while her elven counterpart had survived no more than two.


    Gulping, she tried to push Charlotte away, to encourage her to run, but the lich did no such thing. She tightened her grip on her staff instead. And after waiting for enough of her mana to return, called upon the oceans for aid.


    Alas, no mere current could deter the pedigreed warrior. Walking it off with a shrug, Fausta drew her weapon and raised her hands. ¡°Surrender, and you will be treated with mercy. Resist, and we¡¯ll beat you black and blue.¡± Her voice was somewhat muffled by the oxygen mask resting atop her face, but her words rang loud and clear.


    Scowling, the blackroot elf drew a blade from her waist and closed the distance. She dashed right up to the pony and delivered a full-forced swing, but it was easily evaded. The veteran swerved past the attack and countered with a spinning kick.


    Nymn pushed herself off the ground and backed away, but she was unable to escape. Fausta''s hooves dug straight into her gut, shattering two of her ribs. Enduring the pain, she threw up her blade and caught the horse¡¯s shieldlance right before it dug into her side. The two weapons made contact, only for the swordman¡¯s to snap. Blade and elf alike were broken apart and sent crashing through a wall of glass.


    Gritting her teeth, she forced the wounds to recover. Her broken bones bit at her flesh as they were pushed into place, and her muscles cried as their fibres were forcibly connected. It was a process that only pained her to endure. But it was also what allowed her to emerge from the rubble unscathed. Her breaths were short and shallow and her heart was pumping erratically, too gripped with fear to maintain its regular beat. Frankly, she was shocked that she had even survived their first exchange, accepting the outcome only as she recalled that Pollux had no use for her in death.


    A shiver running up her spine, she drew a second sword from her waist and took up a stance. She charged as soon as the centaur entered her range, blasting through the water with enough force to superheat the pocket behind her. Though her cloak didn¡¯t help her speed, the wetsuit beneath it certainly did. It was not just another set of clothing, but a specially crafted garment pillaged from a dungeon nearby. And by channelling her magic through its threads, she had boosted her velocity threefold.


    Still, it wasn¡¯t enough, Fausta caught her midcharge with a light slap of the lance, batting her through another building with a lazy swipe of the blade.


    Charlotte finished another spell right as her partner ate a second hit. With a hefty swing of the staff, she crafted a dozen watery hands and flung them at the centaur¡¯s face. But though they were completely invisible, not a single one of the projectiles was able to land on target. Fausta dodged them with minimal movements, blocking only those too inconvenient for her to evade.


    She bore down on the skeleton right after, dashing toward her with her shieldlance dragging along the ocean floor. She was going for the kill; her blade was aimed at the lich¡¯s jewel, ready to eliminate her once and for all. And she was moving at a speed that made it impossible for Charlotte to react.


    Bursting from the rubble, Nymn inserted herself between them, taking the hit with her stomach as she swung her own blade to deliver a haphazard counter.


    But perhaps as was expected, the elf¡¯s desperate attempt only ended in failure. Fausta caught the shortsword in her free hand, her gauntlet shielding the prehensile appendage from the weapon¡¯s sharpened edge.


    Nymn released her weapon with a click of the tongue and quickly bolted in the other direction. It was a swift retreat, but not swift enough. Fausta kicked her to the floor and grabbed her wrists, effortlessly suppressing her with her free hand. She looked just about ready to take her in, but a watery blade detonated her oxygen tank before she could complete the arrest.


    Charlotte grabbed ahold of her lover¡¯s hand in the chaos, and summoning up one last bit of energy, swept them off into the abyssal night.

 Chapter 279 - The Sharpest Lizard That Ever Sharped

    Chapter 279 - The Sharpest Lizard That Ever Sharped


    Boris lifted his tail over his head and stretched his tired limbs as he prepared to set out. It was just past noon, but the sun was nowhere to be seen. The sky was covered in a blackened, woolly blanket, and the air was thick with moisture. It was a wonder that the clouds had yet to burst. Still, the ikarett was undisturbed. Bidding his mistress farewell with a nod, he crawled off the counter and made his way out the door.


    He scuttled along the familiar street, stopping only to greet the usual faces as he passed them by. He didn¡¯t turn until he reached the first major intersection, at which point he  descended the city¡¯s main road with his eyes set on his destination. It was the biggest landmark in sight, the giant white castle that lay at the center of town.


    The lizard was not just another pedestrian, but an obstacle as well. His height often rendered him invisible to others that shared the street. Those unfortunate to step atop his smoothened back would slip and fall, with many twisting their ankles, but the perpetrator himself was indifferent. He did not exactly have an immunity to physical damage, but he was certainly working his way towards one. Had anything as light as an accidental step hurt him, he surely would have found himself incapable of surviving his intended purpose.


    When he arrived at the castle¡¯s gates, he was greeted by a familiar sight. Marcelle was already sitting outside, rolling around on her tummy as she awaited her lizard-shaped friend. She casually raised a flipper when she saw him, the same greeting she always gave.


    Technically, she was skipping work. The manatee was on duty throughout her waking hours, but she was rarely summoned in broad daylight. It was much more common for her to fly out at night, when her massive, blubbery frame would not be so easily detected. Lest there was an emergency, the flying pet was generally free to do as she pleased from dawn till dusk. Or at least that was what she assumed, given that she had yet to be scolded.


    Whatever the case, it was none of Boris¡¯ business. With a quiet bark, he lazily climbed up onto the manatee¡¯s back and lightly thwacked her blubber with his tail. She started to move the moment she was struck, flapping her tiny flippers with a squeal and rising into the sky. With another sound, even higher pitched than the first, she ripped a hole in spacetime and dove right through. The environment changed immediately; the gloomy, overcast sky was dyed red by plumes of magma. A dozen volcanos grew out of the skyline, each spewing hot ash and soot into the heavens above.


    Taking a few moments to look around, Marcelle shook her head, squeaked some more, and crafted another portal. The second instance was nowhere near as threatening. Beneath the floating pair lay a grassy plain lightly rustled by a gentle wind. Giant, winged rabbits hopped around in the flowery field, idly munching on phallic grasses and enjoying the warm, spring breeze.


    But while it was certainly a relaxing scene, it met exactly neither of their standards. So the manatee activated her signature ability and displaced them once again. Realm Warp was extremely resource-efficient; all the mana that went into its activation was returned by the time she slipped through the portal. Its cost came instead as a lack of control. While she could certainly return to a fixed anchor without any trouble, she was otherwise limited by the luck of the draw. To attempt to move to another location was to roll the dice, for every portal opened would always lead to a completely random dungeon in a hundred-kilometre range. As was easily determined from its sheer absurdity, it was not an ability that the sea cow had evolved or otherwise acquired with her own efforts, but one gifted by a certain mischievous celestial, a prize that every Llystletein native received, upon touching the gate to the great outdoors.


    It took seventeen tries for the pair to happen upon a suitable location. They eventually found themselves in the middle of a desert, stationed right next to a shimmering oasis. The watering hole was the perfect location; the palms lining its pool provided shade for Marcelle to sleep under, as well as food for her to snack on. Wordlessly, Boris climbed off her back and left her to do as she pleased. Her role as taxi had come to an end; it was finally his time to shine.


    Climbing atop the nearest dune, the lizard spread his body as far as he could, closed his eyes, and napped beneath the warmth of the sun, serving as a beacon for its brilliant rays.


    ___


    He slept for a solid three hours before he next stirred. With a stretch and a shrill, reptilian yawn, he shook the sleepiness from his bones and gazed up at the blazing sun. It was still high in the sky; there would be a few hours before his mistress called for dinner. His first thought was to go back to sleep with the sun still on his back. He loved how the naked goddess embraced his body when he sat beneath her, heating him to the point where his mind practically turned to goop. But it was not meant to be.


    Something strange happened when he tried to close his eyes. The light suddenly grew stronger, but the warmth that fed his drowsiness faded away. The sand beneath his belly was replaced by a sea of clouds, soft, pillowy clouds. His previous experiences dictated that the fluffy beds could not hold his weight, but strangely enough, he didn¡¯t fall through. His legs sank into the cotton balls, but he otherwise remained perfectly in place.


    When he raised his head, he found himself staring down a peculiar creature. Its body was covered with iridescent scales, each shining in a medley of dark purples and blues. Its hair was largely the same colour, with tiny specks of white dotting its various bits. On the tip of its head, there was a single horn, a dark purple blade as long as its neck. The rest of its body was largely familiar. It was reminiscent of the strange centaurs with no upper halves, its chests and arms replaced by a simple, long face.


    ¡°Welcome to the divine realm.¡±


    He tilted his head as its voice echoed through his mind. It was a familiar sensation, the very same one he often experienced when his mistress spoke in her colossal form. Looking at the creature again, he found himself unable to determine if there was a resemblance. His gut was screaming that there was, but the reason eluded him no matter how hard he stared. While their scales were arranged similarly, the strange being before him sported a far narrower snout. Its eyes were not as sharp, and its nose was more rounded. The greatest difference between them, however, stemmed not from their physical appearances, but their demeanour; while his mistress was wild as a raging buck, the deformed centaur was enveloped in a gentler aura.


    It looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to respond, but Boris did no such thing. He could only silently sweat as their eyes remained locked for a veritable eternity.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Eventually, the towering beast turned away with a smile upon its lips. It¡ªshe¡ªtook a few steps and then turned around, silently beckoning for the ikarett to follow. His first steps were hesitant, but he soon cast his worries aside and trod through the fluffy field.


    The environment distorted as they moved, shifting to a graveyard, a swamp, and a rainbow bridge before settling on a secluded, wooded land. It was an ordinary patch of forest; the trees were adorned with songbirds aplenty, their nests carefully hidden between their branches. The neighbouring creek was filled with bugs and frogs, evident from the constant buzzing and croaking that filled the lizard¡¯s ears.


    If there was one thing about the scene that stood out, it was the old loghouse placed within the clearing. Smoke billowed from its chimney as the clanging of steel rang through the otherwise untouched land.


    When the four-legged purple lady opened the door, she revealed a strange creature hovering over an anvil. For a moment, the lizard found himself struggling to understand the entity laid before him. Its shaggy beard aside, its only recognizable feature was its stout frame. It was not a skill that blocked his perception, nor his inability to understand what he saw, but simply the being¡¯s construction. The glowing, faceless blob had a vaguely humanoid shape, but it was effectively a cocktail of raw energy somehow attached to a glob of hair.


    The blob didn¡¯t speak or even acknowledge the visitors¡¯ presence. He continued to silently swing his hammer, to strike at his anvil and shape his blade. Together, Boris and the purple creature entered the building, where they sat in the corner of the room and watched as the blob continued to work. The silence lasted for over a thousand strikes, after which the blob picked up the resulting falchion in its glowing green hands and gave it a careful inspection.


    The humanoid nodded to itself with an amused grunt, as if to say that it was done, only to shove the blade right back into the furnace. After heating it up a thousand degrees and nodding happily again, the dull green freak started the hammering process anew. It was an interaction that repeated, once, twice, ten times, before the glowing beard finally set aside its work


    Humming in satisfaction, it spun around to face its guests, with beads of sweat still dripping down its nonexistent brow.


    ¡°Hello, Flux,¡± it said. Its¡ªhis¡ªvoice was distinctly masculine, a low, grumble almost too quiet to hear.


    ¡°Hello, Dorr,¡± she replied. ¡°I see that you are incomprehensibly ugly as ever today.¡±


    ¡°That last bit was unnecessary,¡± muttered the god of the inner flame. The talking beard shook his head and breathed a tired sigh as he placed his freshly crafted weapon atop a nearby shelf. It stayed put while he arranged it, but the blade disappeared as soon as he nodded to himself and stepped away. ¡°Can you do something about that tongue of yours already? I swear, every damn time.¡±


    ¡°I will not,¡± said the goddess. ¡°Perhaps you would understand if you possessed a more competent brain, or a brain at all for that matter.¡±


    ¡°Y¡¯see? That right there is exactly what I¡¯m talking about.¡± The blob god shook his head before turning to his other guest. ¡°And who are you, exactly?¡±


    Not expecting to be addressed, the lizard stared blankly. It was a stark contrast from his usual behaviour, which would have involved the arduous and verbose task of silently looking at the man with his eyes wide open.


    ¡°Boris, eh? Not a bad name. Bit strange for a weapon though.¡±


    The god walked over to the metal iguana and crouched down by his side. Lightly, he tapped the lizard with a silhouette vaguely resembling an arm, muttering to himself all the while. He even struck him a few times with his hammer, which to Boris¡¯ surprise, led a pleasant sensation to spread throughout his frame. Alongside each strike was a tinging sound that echoed through his core, and for some odd reason or other settled inside his belly.


    When the lizard looked up at the divine smith, he found the only distinguishable part of the man¡¯s face furrowed in confusion. He hummed and hawed as he ran a hand through his misplaced pubic hair and rested his hammer atop his shoulder.


    ¡°That¡¯s strange. It shouldn¡¯t be doing that,¡± he muttered a concerning evaluation as he lifted the lizard onto his anvil and flipped him on his back. ¡°Your construction¡¯s decent, and your circuits aren¡¯t terrible, but there¡¯s something wrong with the way it¡¯s flowing,¡± he said, after another casual tap. ¡°You busy today?¡±


    Boris paused for a brief moment before rapidly nodding his head. He still had a solid two hours of napping before he finally reached his quota, soon after which he was sure to be summoned for his evening meal. He wasn¡¯t exactly sure of the glowing stranger¡¯s intentions, but the only free time he had was late at night.


    ¡°Hm, guess we can do it the slow way then.¡±


    The glowing man grabbed the lizard by the tail and slowly pushed him into the furnace. Like the hollow strikes, the flames were more comforting than painful. They heated him to his core, embracing him much the same way as the dazzling desert sun. He was tempted to sleep then and there, but his curiosity kept him from nodding off.


    It was a tough battle, but he managed to last until the man retrieved him from the flames and raised his hammer overhead. Gazing upon the god led Boris to slowly blink in confusion. The one-handed stance he had used before was nowhere to be seen. The hammer was held between three limbs instead, with two of them having grown from the back of his head just for the occasion. The power that fueled the strike was different as well. It was driven not by a precise movement, but the divinity and mana that leaked out from his beard and into his body.


    There was a strange bell-like sound when the smith¡¯s tool made contact. It came alongside a flood of divine power, a flash so intense that it threatened to burn his circuits. And then, it was gone, dispersed through his body as if nothing had ever happened.


    With a curious blink, he looked up at the deity, whose beard curved into a wide grin.


    ¡°What did I do, you ask? I fixed you,¡± he said. ¡°Technically, I tweaked your digestive function so you could fix yourself. I would¡¯ve been able to hammer you out the old-fashioned way if we had a few more hours, but this¡¯ll do the job just fine. It¡¯ll take maybe another day or three to kick in, but you won¡¯t be blocked from ascending anymore once it has.¡±


    Again, the lizard blinked.


    ¡°What do you mean you didn¡¯t notice?¡± asked the glowing blob with an incredulous chuckle. ¡°Didn¡¯t you think there was a reason all your progress suddenly hit a wall?¡±


    Boris paused for a moment, lowering his head just a bit before shaking it from side to side. His mistress had coincidentally stopped killing things as soon as he had hit level five hundred, and because he hadn¡¯t been prompted, the lizard had failed to realize that he was supposed to have ascended. Even knowing that the option was on the table, however, left him largely unperturbed.


    He wasn¡¯t particularly interested in the pursuit of power. He would seek it if demanded by his mistress, but they were both already satisfied with his performance. That, of course, was not to say that he would reject it, just that he could not be bothered to go out of his way to acquire it. The same could be said for his approach to combat. There was nothing stopping him from going above and beyond in fulfilling his mistress¡¯ requests, but he couldn¡¯t be bothered. He was happy with his idle existence, whether that entailed eating a flavoured plate or simply napping his days away.


    Evidently, the god was capable of reading his mind; Dorr sighed as he mumbled something or other about wasted potential, but the lizard could not be bothered to listen. His evaluation already made, he closed his eyes, surrendered his consciousness, and basked in the warmth of the forge.

 Chapter 280 - The Sharpest Lizard That Ever Sharped II

    Chapter 280 - The Sharpest Lizard That Ever Sharped II


    Boris yawned as he slowly crawled through the seaside city. The afternoon had just turned to evening; the sun was starting to set, and the streets were flooded with traffic. Having finally escaped their employers, workers of all shapes and sizes were out and about, with some heading back home to their families and others in search of a meal to wrap up a long day''s work.


    As far as the ikarett was concerned, he fell cleanly into the second group. Head held high with pride, he joined a pod of tired-looking construction workers as they vacated the castle grounds and lumbered through the streets. It was difficult to say which among them was most drained. One of the particularly exhausted-looking orcapeds was dragging his tentacles like a zombie, while the elf standing behind him had his back at a ninety-degree angle. Boris trailed behind the group and opened his mouth wide, an action driven by the recency of his latest nap. With the length of the yawn, he was confident that he had demonstrated himself the hardest worker, but much to the lizard¡¯s chagrin, it soon spread contagiously through the crowd; his cowalkers began opening their mouths and expressed their extensive fatigue.


    Frustrated and defeated, he parted with the group on Fourth Street and made his way back to his second home. On some days, Marcelle would accompany him to the shop, but she had refrained for the past week. Apparently, the castle had upgraded its feed. She needed to be present as soon as mealtime began so that she could consume her portion before it was stolen. The local turberi and weird centaurs were ravenous and would break out of their stalls just to get their hooves and flippers on anything left unattended and unconsumed. Though it was certainly an inconvenient development¡ªthe manatee''s ability to fly would have made it easier for them to cut the line¡ªthe lizard was far from discouraged. He crawled under the other guests instead, weaving between their legs as he made his way indoors. Though some of the newer faces were surprised or annoyed, the regulars paid him no mind. Some even went out of their way to greet him, and while he wasn''t quite a fan of all the petting they would do before he assumed his station, he did at least blink in each of their directions.


    Perhaps because they had just launched a new dish, the shop was operating beyond its maximum capacity. There were a few people spread throughout, examining the goods placed on the shelves, but most hung around the bar, where the new pet was earning his keep. His presence was one that the lizard enjoyed. The new fuzzy thing knew that he sat at the bottom of the pecking order; while the mean chicken-lady mostly ignored him, the big cat-man always fed his reptilian overlord on demand. Boris didn''t quite understand the siren''s mentality. But he didn''t bother correcting it. It wasn¡¯t his duty to guide her on the right path.


    A bubble appeared around him as he navigated his way to the bar. The magical sphere removed the sand and grime that had accumulated all over his body and banished it to the void. He briefly glanced at the spell''s caster, who was pretending to nap on the counter while leaving all her work to his mistress, and lightly flicked his tongue in appreciation before continuing towards his goal.


    His dinner was ready by the time he entered the big cat¡¯s space. Delicious potato skins, large seeds, and fresh bones aplenty were piled up onto his plate, ready to be savoured and consumed. He dug in immediately, albeit without all the zeal he would have liked. For whatever reason, the otherwise submissive newcomer threw a fit whenever he ate the plates and forks. He didn¡¯t quite see why; no one else could tolerate their flavour, and his mistress had always given him as many as he wanted. Perhaps, he reasoned, it was a quirk of the strange newcomer¡¯s personality to be emotionally attached to individual pieces of food.


    Whatever the case, he was able to eat his fill, even without any metals or ceramics. More or less satisfied, he scuttled out of the kitchen and retreated to the counter, where he positioned himself beside his mistress¡¯ documents with his eyes closed and his face resting on the cold marble. It was his new favourite spot. His old flame, a bed by one of the infirmary¡¯s windows, was no longer an option courtesy of the evil chicken. She didn¡¯t chase him out per se, but there was always something bubbling while she was around, and he wasn¡¯t a fan of the smell.


    Though certainly comfortable enough to travel through time, the lizard did not doze off. In the evening, his duty was not to sleep, but rather to be petted; he actively lowered his spines whenever any hands approached, moving them to one side so that it was easier to access his flank. It was not just his mistress and her friends that scratched and patted him, but random customers as well¡ªevidence that he was doing his part.


    And so the evening passed. The shop closed at the usual time without incident, and the commute home was as vanilla as ever. Everyone went their separate ways upon arrival; Lia headed up to her room, Sylvia fell asleep on the dinner table, and Boris took up his usual spot. His mistress was the only one not to stay. She headed back into the night, presumably to join the strange long-nosed people in their evening training. He would sometimes accompany her as either an observer or head-bonker, but only if he was summoned or expressly brought along. He had little investment in the strange grey-skinned people or their ivory tusks.


    Snuggling up to the fireplace, Boris closed his eyes and prepared to greet the next day. Only to realise that he couldn¡¯t. His stomach was making strange noises, and while the ikarett was not particularly hungry, he did find himself with an abnormal amount of energy. His legs jittered, his teeth chattered, and his tail wildly swished about.


    He noticed that something was off as he skittered out the window and into the open. His body was glowing, lightly illuminating his surroundings in a distinct, pale light. Not minding it one bit, he followed in his mistress¡¯ footsteps and entered the erdbrechers¡¯ domain. He picked up speed as he scuttled, moving faster and faster until the environment became a blur. Before he knew it, he was no longer among the firelit houses, but deep in the Vel¡¯khanese forest.


    He blinked a few times as he came to a stop before slowly turning around. For whatever reason, the jungle behind him was untrodden. There was no trace of his prints anywhere to be seen, nor even his lingering scent. His eyes flashed with a curious glint as he walked around and lightly flicked his tongue at each strange plant in turn.


    He didn¡¯t quite understand why they were shaped, coloured, and scented so strangely. One particularly purple flower was so big that he could walk right into it. In retrospect, he realised that it was a little rude, but the flower was kind enough to offer him a lick nonetheless. Returning the greeting with a light head bump, he backed out of its giant bud and resumed his investigation.


    It took a grand total of five minutes for the ikarett to determine that he was totally lost. He recognized none of the plants; loosely classifying them as trees, shrubs, grasses, and flowers was about the extent of his ability. Still, he was not discouraged. He continued wandering haphazardly around the strange environment until he happened upon a distant campfire.


    He scuttled towards the flame without a moment¡¯s delay and waltzed right into the clearing as if he had always belonged. He didn¡¯t look at the shadowy figures until he was basking by the raging heat lamp, at which point he determined that he recognized none of their races.


    One was a large man with red skin and giant muscles, one was a safe with a face drawn on its door, and the last was a tiny person that vaguely reminded him of Sylvia when she shrunk. They were roughly the same size, but the cloaked figure had a pair of butterfly-like wings growing from her back. Her tail wasn¡¯t quite missing, but it was fleshy rather than fuzzy and grew from her front instead of her back. She also seemed to be sick; bits of dust sprayed off her wings whenever she flapped them, obscuring her otherwise naked figure in a cloud of pink particulates.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Perhaps because they were already arguing amongst themselves, they didn¡¯t notice him until he was already halfway to falling asleep.


    ¡°Wait, what the hell is that thing?¡± The first of the three to question his existence was the talking safe. The illustration on its door twisted in an exaggerated display of shock when it found him, going so far as to grow a pair of illustrated hands.


    The large red man scratched his head. ¡°Good question.¡± He lightly tapped the lizard¡¯s chassis. ¡°But it feels like it¡¯s made of solid steel or something. No idea how we didn¡¯t notice it crawling over.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it was always here?¡± asked the fairy. Unlike the safe, who spoke in a squeaky high pitch, the pixie¡¯s voice was deep and masculine.


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible. Someone would¡¯ve seen it,¡± said the red man. ¡°Anyway, it doesn¡¯t seem hostile, but I¡¯ll move it a bit away just in case.¡±


    He reached under the metal lizard and attempted to lift him, but Boris, unwilling to move from the fire, magnified the weight of his otherwise fifty-pound body by a factor of a thousand and sank deeper into his seat. It was the heaviest he could get, and thankfully, it seemed to do the trick.


    ¡°The hell is wrong with this thing!?¡± The man put his back into the effort and leveraged every bit of strength his bulging muscles could produce. ¡°It won¡¯t fucking budge!¡± His face turned even redder as he continued to strain himself to no avail. He tried for a minute, pushing, pulling, and prying from all different angles, but Boris remained exactly where he was. ¡°Fuck!¡±


    ¡°You know, the more I look at it, the more familiar it seems,¡± said the pixie. ¡°You think we might¡¯ve seen it somewhere?¡±


    ¡°Nah, no wa¡ª¡± The talking safe was about to dismiss the claim when her chalky hands shot to her equally chalky mouth.


    ¡°What?¡± asked the fairy. ¡°You recognize it?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the lizard that lives in the MACC,¡± said the box. ¡°Shit! They must be onto us.¡±


    ¡°Aw, fuck,¡± grumbled the red man. ¡°I told you we shouldn¡¯t have tried to cheat. The hell are we supposed to do now?¡±


    ¡°Your brain not working or something, musclehead?¡± said the safe. ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear what happened to Piper¡¯s party? We¡¯ve gotta skip town. We¡¯re in deep shit the moment this thing makes its report.¡±


    ¡°We could just make it so it never gets to talk.¡± The red man pushed himself to his knees and grabbed the disproportionate battleaxe by the fire. ¡°Whaddya say?¡±


    ¡°I say you¡¯re an idiot,¡± cried the walking rectangle. ¡°That thing¡¯s probably a familiar! Its master heard every damn word that just came out of your mouth! God! This is why I can¡¯t stand muscleheads!¡±


    Wide-eyed, the buff red man turned to the tiny pixie, who confirmed the claim with a nod and a grimace. ¡°I don¡¯t know how long it¡¯s been here, but the fact that it¡¯s revealed itself means their agents are close. Get packing. We need to make a run for it.¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    Boris watched in confusion as the group went from relaxing by the campfire to suddenly packing everything up. It was a scramble. They grabbed most of the lighter things and ran off into the night. For a moment, it looked like they would simply disappear into the jungle and leave him by the flame, but a massive web spread across the sky just before they vanished. Silky strings fired from the matrix and latched onto each of the party¡¯s members, all of whom spun around and returned to the campsite with a series of jerky, unnatural motions.


    Boris ignored them at first. The soothing fire numbed his mind and continued pushing him towards the void of sleep, but he was soon torn from his reverie when the red man suddenly leapt through the air with a feral scream. He brought his axe upon the lizard with madness in his eyes and foam bubbling from his mouth. The phenomenon held Boris¡¯ attention for a whole tenth of a second. He zoned out again right after, even as the weapon met his skin. In fact, it was the assailant¡¯s axe that was broken; a large crack ran down its length, starting from the point where it had impacted his spine.


    The living weapon found the whole ordeal surprisingly enjoyable. He wasn¡¯t oblivious to the man¡¯s intentions, of course, but neither was he particularly concerned, even as the other two pelted him with their spells. His durability only dropped a total of seven points over the course of a minute-long assault, all of which were recovered before more numbers were claimed; their desperate attempts came off as more of a light massage than an expression of violence. Still, they continued to pelt him, puppeteered by the silken strands attached to the sky.


    It was on those same strands that the other assailants descended. A dozen spiders fell out of the net, their sticky tethers barely keeping them from hitting the ground. They were not made of flesh and blood, but rivets and plates. The metal used in their construction was unfamiliar, their forms were strange, and they were less than half his size. But Boris could tell. They were the same. Living weapons, just like him.


    The metal arachnids didn¡¯t hesitate to show their cards. Six of them went to the man¡¯s side. One attached to his head and injected its legs straight through his skull, while the others quickly transformed. They turned first to individual blades and cut the threads that bound him before becoming a single entity. Morphing their parts accordingly, they perfectly slotted together and formed an exaggerated version of the weapon that the man had broken. The giant axe¡¯s artificial glow cut through the darkness and dyed the forest in a piercing dapper red.


    Both his party members were met with much the same treatment. One spider jabbed a claw through the pixie¡¯s head, while another breached the safe and crawled inside. Their staves were replaced by large metal rods, each tipped with a collection of glowering, arachnid eyes.


    Each took up a stance, but they did not attack immediately. Their lips moved in sync instead while their weapons projected their voices.


    ¡°This is a divine missive. The goddess of war demands the return of the Thirsting Blade. Fail to comply, and you will be eliminated.¡±


    Boris tilted his head and pointed a foot at his face. He was genuinely confused, but the spiders only seemed to see it as a taunt. Their legs twitching uncontrollably, even in weapon form, the metal arachnids skreed with rage.


    ¡°Do not lie! We can sense it. You are carrying it at this very moment. Return it immediately, or we will take action!¡±


    Their voices came not only from the twelve that had taken over the party standing in front of him but all around. Hundreds of them were in the sky, all slowly falling from the massive web. And it was at that moment that Boris made a decision. He curled into something that vaguely resembled a ball as he turned his back to the attackers and rolled away.


    He wasn¡¯t very quick at first, rotating his body only once every few seconds, but he soon picked up the pace and accelerated to over twenty times his scuttling speed. He blasted right through the trees in his path, crushing their trunks without any thought or effort as he set his mind on escape. Frankly, the lizard wasn¡¯t sure where he was going. The web seemed to grow in every direction, so he focused on getting as far away from as many of the spiders as he could.


    He recalled, halfway through his escape, that he could return to his mistress¡¯ side through the use of his Soul Link skill, but it failed when he tried it. Something was blocking him from teleporting, communicating even. Nothing about the skill was working; all his commands were outright ignored.


    It was a solid predicament, but the lizard shrugged it off and continued to roll, not because he was desperate to escape, but because he found the sensation oddly amusing. There was something inherently fun about ploughing through everything in his path, be it a plant, a spider, or an unsuspecting bear.


    When he eventually arrived at the edge of the web, after spinning around for an indiscriminate amount of time, he discovered that it was not as robust a barrier as he had otherwise imagined. The silk that made up its base was certainly thick, but there were tree-sized gaps between the massive, intertwined strands. Even with a much larger spider in his path, he had no trouble breaking right through.


    The world distorted as he crossed beyond the boundary and slid to a stop. Gone was the foreign plant life, replaced by trees and shrubs that he often saw in great excess. So too vanished the webs and spiders; the forest behind him was pristine and without any traces of intrusion.


    He pondered the problem for a few moments, only to dismiss it with a shrug and scuttle away. Just in time to miss the spider that escaped the invisible rift.

 Chapter 281 - The Sharpest Lizard That Ever Sharped III

    Chapter 281 - The Sharpest Lizard That Ever Sharped III


    Though Boris made it home safe and sound, he spent the night largely sleepless. His body continued acting up, shifting between phases of excitement and lethargy. It was not necessarily the lack of rest that bothered him, but rather the inability to burn his excess energy. Though he could certainly exhaust himself by heading outdoors and chasing his tail, the lizard was unable to shake the jittery sensation that continued to pulse through his body. He simply had to wait around until it finally abated.


    Of the six hours he had lain in his bed, five were spent dealing with the annoying palpitations and their aftermaths. Had he not been a weapon, the lack of sleep would surely have ruined the next day, but his constitution ensured that would not be the case. His consciousness only faded as a means to stave off his boredom between the more entertaining bits of his mistress¡¯ journey. Like all the times when food was served.


    It was precisely during one of those times, and not during any of his midnight misadventures, that the lizard finally understood the scope of his problem. When presented with a full plate of food, including the forks and knives that he typically enjoyed, Boris found himself completely disinterested. The dish¡¯s quality was certainly a contributing factor, but it was not necessarily at fault. He had a solid track record of gulping down his mistress¡¯ cooking, regardless of how burnt or raw it may have been. And yet, he was paralyzed, stuck staring at the pitch-black shoggoth eggs with none of his usual fervour.


    He focused on the burnt shells for a total of ten seconds, enduring his mistress¡¯ expectant stare before turning around and returning to the weapon rack. He was under the vague impression that he heard his mistress drop a plate, but he was unable to process the words in detail. Another attack had started right as he returned to his place.


    Each pulse would start in his core and bounce back inside of him when it reached some extremity or other, radiating through his body in waves. It was precisely the bouncing that caused his discomfort. It pushed against his frame, wanting but unable to burst from the seams. When he directed his consciousness towards the echoes, he found that the individual bits of discomfort did not last quite as long as expected. It felt like his body was growing, even though his physical size remained unchanged.


    It took a random experiment¡ªthe idea for which suddenly popped into his mind in the middle of a yawn¡ªfor Boris to realise that he could control it. It didn¡¯t always listen, but he could shift it around in his body whenever he put his mind to it. With just a bit of practice, he found that he had no trouble keeping it suppressed. And the more he played around, the more malleable it became. The energy soon found itself listening to his whims, cycling in, out, and through his body on demand. He had the idea to shape the energy into a blade, but his experiment was interrupted when he spotted a large spider with its face glued to the window.


    The mechanical arachnid scrambled out of sight almost immediately. Curious, Boris climbed outside and followed it to the roof, where he found the creature waiting with a net between its feet and jaws. It released the sticky web on top of him, knocking him to the ground and gluing him to the garden. The confused ikarett flailed his limbs, but he was only further entangled. Transforming his body didn¡¯t work; even with his limbs turned to sharpened blades, he was unable to cut through the webs. He grew to his maximum weight when the spider approached, but unlike the red-skinned man, the machine wasn¡¯t discouraged. It wrapped him up in a ball and lifted him with ease. Boris considered teleporting to his mistress¡¯ side, but he dismissed the choice as he recalled that she was still cooking. He didn¡¯t dare imagine how cross she would have been if he happened to deface the already ruined dishes she had in progress.


    Thus, he found himself at the arachnid monster¡¯s whims, with no option but to sit around as it put him on its back and transported him out of town. The spider proceeded without concealing itself, but while many of the arviads were already awake, none thought to stop it and help. The few that labelled it an abnormal sight were disparaged by their peers, who decried that life in Vel¡¯khan was already inherently abnormal.


    After roughly ten minutes of walking¡ªthe other living weapon wasn¡¯t very fast on its feet, and his weight certainly worked against it¡ªit brought him to the forest where it set him down, transformed its front legs into a pair of scythes, and swung them at his face.


    Though it certainly looked the part of a telling blow, the attack neither fazed the lizard nor left a mark on his otherwise perfect body. It was a result that the spider seemed to have expected. It lowered its head with a sad chitter, popped him back on its back, and continued towards the city.


    They lined up outside the gate as would an ordinary pair of travellers and prepared to enter the city. The guards were competent enough to react with caution when they spotted the unfamiliar spider monster, but their intervention came to an end with the advent of a large spiky lobster. The blue-grey crustacean, who had emerged from an office of sorts, lightly petted Boris on the head and waved them right through.


    Once past the gate, they proceeded through the rest of the city unhindered. A few quick twists and turns took them straight to Temple Street. The devout were plentiful despite the hour; there were hundreds of people heading up and down the cliff, some with offers or donations in hand, and others feeling refreshed with the combined weights of their prayers and sins taken off their chests. Of those that laid eyes on the two weapons, most were surprised or concerned, but there were some that stared with fervour and adoration.


    Not even all the attention put a halt in the spider¡¯s steps; it carried the lizard roughly halfway up the cliff before entering a cathedral with two massive spears crossed over its entrance. Many of the churchgoers immediately clasped their hands and bowed, with one particularly pudgy nun even crying at the sight of the visitors. Boris was confused. He had never heard of the spider-like weapon and refused to believe that it was so popular; he was supposed to be the most well-recognized mascot in town.


    While he stewed over the horrifying revelation, the spider took him deep into the temple, bringing him up to the second floor and into a large, open atrium. The room changed immediately as he entered it, much as the forest had the previous night. The skylit room turned dark as it was replaced with a long marble hall, filled with all sorts of people, statues, and weapons. A lady appeared right in front of him, not a weird, armless centaur like the nice lady he had met the previous day, but a normal lady with a torso and arms growing out of the front of her many-legged body.


    She had shockingly pale skin, rosy red lips, and eyes of the same colour. There were a pair of horns growing from her head and a strange metal-looking thing growing from her back. Upon closer inspection, he found that her lower half greatly resembled the creature that had escorted him to the location, albeit with a few differences in the various details.


    She didn¡¯t seem very happy for some odd reason. Her lips were twisted into a frown, and she advanced through the building with a series of heavy stomps. The floor came apart with every step. Every tile in her path was either punctured, cracked, or flipped, and the pillars hardly did any better. She ran right through them, collapsing them behind her as would a living storm.


    ¡°Return my dagger.¡± Her chest heaved, dramatically rising and falling with every weighted breath. ¡°Undo whatever you have done to the Thirsting Blade and return it immediately!¡±


    Boris tilted his head. It was the same demand the smaller spiders had made, but he didn¡¯t recall touching any daggers.


    ¡°How dare you make a fool of me!¡± The goddess raised an arm and formed a simple magic circle at the tip of her fingers. A trio of glowing chains was ejected from the spell, each pulsing with a distinct reddish-pink as they captured the lizard in their grasp. Raising him up to eye level, she stuck a hand through his gut and felt around, only for her face to pale. ¡°It¡¯s gone? No, no, that can¡¯t be right. I still sensed it yesterday.¡± She narrowed her eyes and looked at the lizard again. What started as an intense gaze, however, soon shifted to a nervous sweat. ¡°Mruh!? Wait, I swear¡­ But the energy¡¯s still there, so? Huh!?¡±


    Boris made a squeaking sound before she could get too carried away and pointed a foot at his stomach.


    ¡°Oh, uh, oops, sorry.¡± She retracted her limb and set him down on the ground as she sank into thought, muttering something or other under her breath all the while. ¡°Wait so if he has its energy then¡­ but no that can¡¯t be right. That shouldn¡¯t be possible.¡±


    With the fresh wound already closed by the time he hit the ground, Boris had little to do but sit around and stare while the goddess sorted through her thoughts. And oh so very long a while it was. If not for his body¡¯s strangeness, the ikarett was confident that he would have long fallen asleep. When she finally sorted through her thoughts, after what seemed like an entire hour, the spider goddess first began by snapping her fingers. Hundreds of massive, glowing chains erupted from the ground and put everything back into place. They vanished as soon as the work was done, leaving only a trail of pink particles in their wake.


    With that done, the goddess teleported the pair to her throne and seated herself upon it. Her arachnid legs were crossed, while her humanoid half had its back held perfectly straight.


    ¡°Welcome, mortal, to the divine realm,¡± she said, in an unbefitting, magnanimous tone.


    Boris began to tilt his head, as if to ask her about all the events previously transpired, but she refused to acknowledge the inquiry. A chain caught his face halfway through the motion and unmouthed his silent question.


    ¡°I-I am Vella, the goddess of war,¡± she said, with a stutter. ¡°And I greet you now with the opportunity to become one of the lucky few that shall receive my blessing. All I will need is for you to pledge your undying loyalty.¡±


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    The lizard paused for a few moments before attempting to shake his head, but again, he was denied by his glowing fetters.


    ¡°It is an honour to be able to serve me,¡± said the goddess, through gritted teeth. ¡°Now be a good boy and let me take control of your life.¡±


    His third refusal was met with the same failure as the previous two. The blatant denial almost seemed to pop a vein in the goddess¡¯ forehead, but she calmed herself with a series of deep breaths and slowly approached him, face to face. ¡°You will become my servant. Now take my hand and accept.¡±


    Creaking against the chains, the lizard finally managed to shake his head. Albeit just barely.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand, lizard,¡± she hissed, her voice laced with venom. ¡°I am not giving you a choice, I am making a dema¡ª¡±


    ¡°I would say that you are the one that is failing to understand.¡±


    Vella¡¯s already snow-white face paled as another female voice echoed through the chamber. Gulping, the spider raised her eyes to see the door to her cathedral flung open. Two humanoid figures made their way inside soon after, one a goddess with a cosmic glare, and the other a god with a refined air about him.


    ¡°I told you to stay out of her business.¡± The goddess¡¯ horns shone with a dazzling purple light as she made her way down the aisle. ¡°Did you think that I would fail to see through this idiotic, harebrained mess you call a scheme?¡±


    ¡°Uhhhmmm errr¡­ W-what are you going on about, Flux?¡± Vella stepped in front of her ikarett guest and forced a smile. ¡°A-are you okay? D-did you hit your head or something?¡±


    ¡°You lie like a child.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not lying!¡±


    She opened up a light blue pane with one of her legs and slid the back of her temple forward as stealthily as she could. The resulting squeeze sent Boris¡¯ spirit into another dimension, where he would not be so easily discovered¡ªor at least that was what would have happened had she succeeded. Her control panel flashed with a bright, red Access Denied, no doubt in part thanks to the dragon plugging away at a pane of his own.


    When she looked at him, her mouth agape with horror, he only returned a gentle smile. There was not a shred of guilt upon his handsome features, even as he condemned her to her fate.


    ¡°For the record,¡± he said. ¡°I am sorry.¡±


    ¡°You liar!¡± shouted the spider. ¡°You¡¯re enjoying this even more than she is!¡±


    ¡°I said I was sorry,¡± replied the god of accursed destruction, ¡°not that I wasn¡¯t enjoying myself.¡±


    ¡°Damn you, Builledracht!¡± shouted the spider. ¡°You¡¯re despicable!¡±


    ¡°I will be taking that as a compliment. Now how about you step aside? I¡¯m not quite sure how long Flux¡¯s patience will last.¡±


    Vella gulped as she looked both gods in the eye, her spider set focused on the dragon, and her humanoid set on the qilin. ¡°C-come on! I wasn¡¯t even doing anything against the rules! I-I was just getting my divinity back from this l-lizard thing!¡±


    ¡°If you used either of your brains for half a nanosecond, you would know that we already caught you red-handed,¡± said Flux, with a sigh. Holding out her hand, she apported Boris into her grasp and set him down between them. ¡°I will not be so unreasonable to say that you cannot exert any degree of influence on him.¡±


    Vella¡¯s face lit up immediately. ¡°Then does that mean I ca¡ª¡±


    Flux raised a finger and cut her off. ¡°But I will also not allow you to act unsupervised. You will abide by the standard procedure and offer one option for ascension laden heavily with your influence. If he fails to select it, then that will be the end of that.¡±


    ¡°What!? That¡¯s just plain ridiculous!¡± shouted the spider. ¡°The whole point of the dagger was to stop him from ascending! I can¡¯t just backpedal on that now! Especially not after he¡¯s stolen its power!¡±


    Flux breathed a tired sigh. ¡°And I am saying that going so far is completely unreasonable.¡±


    ¡°How else am I suppose¡ª¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t,¡± said the qilin. ¡°Mortals are not toys, Vella. They have wills of their own, and we cannot force ours upon them. Sometimes, oftentimes, they will make choices that do not coincide with our plans, and that is simply something that we must accept. Certainly, we can praise or condone their choices, or perhaps deliver judgement upon those within our own fold, but that is not to say that we should behave as tyrants. You must understand, they have wills of their own, thoughts and feelings to be considered in earnest.¡±


    ¡°I know that.¡± Vella bit her lips and balled up her fists. ¡°You do realise that I¡¯ve been a god for much longer than you, right?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± said the other goddess, ¡°and it is precisely the extent of your experience that serves to express your sheer incompetence.¡±


    ¡°Flux, I think she¡¯s had enough,¡± said Builledracht, with a wince. He couldn¡¯t help but notice the not-so-crocodile tears welling up in the spider goddess¡¯ eyes. ¡°We should get on with our business.¡±


    The goddess of the eternal flow frowned briefly, but soon lowered her head with a nod. ¡°Yes, let us move on.¡± She raised one of her hands and slowly swept it from left to right. The spider goddess¡¯ domain expanded as she did, growing to five times its previous width. Just enough room to show the ikarett his choices.


    ¡°Hey! I didn¡¯t say you could mess with that!¡± shouted the goddess of war.


    ¡°Stop complaining. Finish your entry quickly, or I will initiate the process without your input.¡±


    ¡°Bwuh!? Huh? I haven¡¯t even started! Wait, hold on! Just give me five minutes!¡±


    ¡°You will have no more than a millisecond. I do not have the spare time to deal with the likes of your idiocy.¡±


    ¡°One millisecond to make a class!? That¡¯s just plain ridiculous! Not even Flitzegarde can pull something like that off!¡±


    ¡°Unlike you, some of us are busy,¡± said the goddess of the flow. ¡°Now hurry along and configure your option before I decide to configure your mind.¡±


    Gulping, Vella shied away from the piercing, nebulous glare and pulled up her panel without another word. She worked as quickly as she could and created a new class object with several parameters defined. To work within the restrictions of the system was rather difficult; there was only so much that she could change without an outright denial¡ªthe very same limitation that prevented Flux and Builledracht from simply reviving their extinct species.


    She would not have encountered any particular issues if she had simply focused on her own goals, but it was impossible for the goddess to simply overlook the countless suboptimal flaws that littered his design. His original creator had very clearly intended for him to be fodder, and it showed in the way his circuits were arranged. She had to reorder each by issuing instructions to the system to redefine their paths and flows in real time.


    ¡°You have half a millisecond remaining,¡± said Flux.


    ¡°Stop rushing me! I¡¯m working as quickly as I can!¡± Next, she altered the type, and with it the list of properties available to be applied. With so much of her divinity already ingested and incorporated into his body, it was a surprisingly easy task, but the same could not be said for the section that followed. To optimize within the given limits was a nightmare and a half, but she somehow managed to cram in everything she wanted, right as the other goddess narrowed her eyes into a glare. ¡°I¡¯m done,¡± she said, with a tired breath.


    ¡°You went two full milliseconds over. That¡¯s thrice the time I gave you.¡±


    Though she allowed her mouth to serve in its usual capacity, the goddess of the flow had waited until Vella finished her work before laying the lizard¡¯s ascensions bare. As was often the case with living weapons, there was an almost countless number of options; there was effectively a choice for everything he had ever damaged, with each victim offering up its properties to be taken into his fold. It was not necessarily just individuals that provided his options, but mixed groups as well, some logical, others completely random and lacking in coherence.


    Slowly, Boris panned his eyes across the room. There were a number of interesting choices hidden in the crowd, such as the Strike Ikarett, which had the ability to transform into a full-body suit, the Magical Stikarett, which could turn any wielder into a twelve-year-old girl, and even the completely unrelated Reaper¡¯s Scythe, which would grant his blade the property of instant death. But while they were certainly novel, the lizard knew better than to select them. His mistress would surely be annoyed if he was to lose any of his previous functions.


    After looking through a few others, he eventually found himself focused on a very slightly shinier version of himself. He backed away when he noticed the spider lady light up, but after scanning through the choices again, he pressed his snout against it and made his choice.


    His class classification changed from Weapon to Relic and his body was created anew. He would become the sharpest lizard that ever sharped, or as named by the goddess of war, the one and only Ikarett Type Infinite Arms.


    ___


    Boris


    Durability: 706980702/706980702


    Mana: 32697/32697


    Durability Restoration: 196204/second


    Mana Regen: 7/second


    Ability Scores - 0 Points Available


    - Agility: 2011


    - Dexterity: 1657


    - Spirit: 7586


    - Strength: 1517


    - Vitality: 565520


    - Wisdom: 379


    Racial Class: Ikarett Type Infinite Arms - Level 500.00


    - Air Resistance Resistance - Level 1.00


    - Greater Pain Amplification - Level 1.00


    - Infinite Armoury


    - Ironclad Defense - Level 597.58


    - Napping - Level 1209.41


    - Perfect Replication - Level 1.00


    - Shapeshifting - Level 379.01


    - Soul Link - Level 120.32


    - Weight Manipulation - Level 91.23


    Primary Class: Lord of Naps: Level 717.83


    - Napping III - Level 2916.77


    - Sensory Deprivation - Level 812.92


    - Sovereign Might - Level 31.20


    - Status Ailment Negation - Level 102.10


    Secondary Class: Blunt Force Instrument - Level 588.02


    - Impact Damage Amplification - Level 198.12


    - Napping II - Level 2027.15


    Tertiary Class: Holy Relic - Level 1.00


    - Blessed Aura - Level 1.00


    - Divine Enforcer - Level 1.00


    - Napping V - Level 1.00


    Unclassed Skills


    - Napping VII - Level 8967.11

 Chapter 281.5 - Violence Is Always the Answer

    Chapter 281.5 - Violence Is Always the Answer


    A woman in a full suit of armour breathed a sigh of relief as she removed her visored helmet. Her dirty blonde hair flopped out of the rusty bucket with a squelch; the once flowing locks were drenched with sweat, forming large clumps that stuck tightly to her skin. Only three weeks had passed since winter gave way to spring; summer was still a long way¡¯s off, and it was supposed to be cold inside her metal death trap. And yet, the iron suit was searing out, literally steaming, thanks to the three hours she had spent fighting inside of it.


    Taking a careful look around with her field of view expanded, she quickly determined that all of her challengers were dead. It was an overdue conclusion; her arms were heavy, her blade was dulled, and the metal plates that adorned her body were bent and broken. Force of will had been the only thing that kept her standing. And with all the cultists gone, that too was quick to fade. She fell onto her back; the metal ground uncomfortably against her skin, but she ignored the irritation and closed her eyes.


    For a moment, she was tempted to fall asleep, but she knew better than to allow a lapse of consciousness in the midst of the enemy¡¯s domain. Worse yet, she was lying in a sea of blood, drawn from the fifty-odd corpses that littered the yard. If she continued to remain still, the iron decorating her person was sure to rust and degrade¡ªan expense that the adventurer could hardly afford to pay. Though certainly in bad shape, her armour was not so heavily damaged that it was unsalvageable. She could very well take it to the local smith and have him hammer it back into shape. It was already her tenth time repairing the shabby suit. She was due for a new set, but such a purchase was sure to run her a full week¡¯s worth of cash, and with all her debtors soon to knock, she was too tight on money to afford the expense.


    More importantly, to sit still was to forgo her earned loot. All three of her companions had gone on ahead¡ªsome gentlemen they were¡ªwhile she remained as a distraction. In the meantime, they would loot and pillage, claiming all the false temple¡¯s riches from the hands of the dead. On paper, there were no issues to be raised. They were to split the profits four ways, with each member of the party taking only their fair share. Reality, however, was not so kind. It was standard practice to secretly pocket the most valuable items without contributing their worth to the communal pool.


    The unspoken rule was not the issue in and of itself, but rather that she would miss out if she sat still. The sword in her hands stemmed from the same source; she had claimed it for herself following a trek into the depths of a previously unknown dungeon. And her allies had said nothing, even knowing that it was enchanted.


    After recalling the potential value of a good find, the woman forced herself up with a groan and placed her helmet back atop her head. The bucket was certainly somewhat uncomfortable, but she didn¡¯t quite feel right without it. Hildegarde¡¯s race was uncommon in the Vel¡¯khanese domain, and she was always made self-conscious when the others stared at her peculiar features. Confidence was another key factor; perhaps because she had grown up in Vel¡¯achkan, a rural town much further out at sea, she always found her own appearance somewhat strange and unsightly.


    There was hair almost all over her body, with much of it serving no purpose. In fact, she only ever noticed it when she leapt into the water, where it blatantly slowed her down. As much as she hated it, she knew that the relative lack of in-water ability was a given. Her species was poorly adapted to life at sea; she could only hold her breath for an hour at a time, and the salty ocean currents always stung her eyes. Her limb count was limited to four. If they were all the same length, she could have at least swam like a jellyfish, but two of them were uncooperative and much longer than the others. The general design of her extremities was too sleek to aid her in the water, and her fins¡ªor feet as they were technically defined¡ªwere barely of any help when she paddled.


    Most damning of all were her ascensions. Her technical specifications adapted well to her needs, but the system refused to change her shape. She was always just human. A curse her late mother had shared.


    Shaking her head free of the dark thought, Hildegarde¡ªHilda for short¡ªpushed open the temple¡¯s double doors and made her way inside. There were corpses strewn all over, common cultists dead in the pews, and a priest with a fancy gold-rimmed hat impaled upon the altar. It almost looked like a scene out of hell. The people present were typical members of the Vel¡¯khanese populace, scyphs, lizardmen, kelpfins to name a few, but they were people that had walked the wrong path.


    The state itself had put a bounty upon their heads, marking them for death for the generous price of twenty silver coins. Because there were so many of them, nearly a hundred by the initial estimate, it meant that each was worth no more than a few days¡¯ labour. Truly a miserable existence.


    Stepping over a dozen corpses, Hildegarde made her way underground and wandered around the temple¡¯s depths. For the most part, she found nothing but bodies and empty rooms. Bedrooms, dining halls, and so on and so forth. But at the very far end of the building, she happened upon a large vault, where she found her companions already present and deflated. The golem that was their rogue was sitting on a rock with his head cradled in his hands, their werebear mage was fiddling with his staff, and their winged scout was practically plastered to the door.


    ¡°Why the hell is Jeremy the one messing with the lock?¡± The human¡¯s voice was distorted by the tin can, just as it always was.


    ¡°Gromp gave up,¡± said the tawny owl. ¡°I doubt I¡¯m getting it anywhere, but I figured I might as well give it a shot.¡±


    He taped an explosive to the mechanism¡ªthe same kind he normally stuck on his arrows¡ªand after lazily gesturing for everyone to back away, damaged their eardrums in a massive detonation. The size of the explosion had made it seem like a success at first, but the giant door remained without a scratch.


    ¡°Damn, that¡¯s tough,¡± grumbled the flier. ¡°I just wasted a whole silver¡¯s worth of clay, and it still didn¡¯t work.¡±


    ¡°I told you so,¡± said Hammer, the mage. He pulled his fingers out of his beary ears and pressed a paw to the rusted steel. ¡°We should just report it. If we¡¯re lucky, they might even have whoever opens it split a piece of what¡¯s inside.¡±


    ¡°You think anyone would actually give us a cut? Keep dreaming kid,¡± muttered the two-pound owl. ¡°We¡¯re better off hiring a locksmith and bringing him out here ourselves.¡±


    ¡°By your logic, the locksmith could just pretend he doesn¡¯t know how to open it, and hire someone else to bring him here later. Or worse, he could head over himself,¡± said Hammer.


    ¡°Both of you, shut up,¡± said Hildegarde. ¡°Arguing isn¡¯t going to help, and we clearly don¡¯t have any way of opening it, so let¡¯s just head back and decide what to do later.¡±


    The ranger looked ready to scream another objection, but the rogue lightly tapped him on the shoulder and made his way out of the room. With the tides turned three against one, he could only bitch and moan as he followed them back to town.


    The fort that the cultists had taken over was only a few hours out from the capital. Getting on their mounts¡ªhorses as opposed to the usual turberi¡ªthey dashed through the woods and made it through the capital¡¯s gates just as the sky turned orange. The owl¡¯s incessant hooting aside, the trip was largely uneventful from start to end.


    A few weeks prior, they would have split up and reconvened the next morning. But with the conditions as they were, the adventurers wordlessly proceeded together as soon as they stabled their horses. Their destination was one of the newest shops in town, known affectionately among its clientele as the MACC.


    Hilda was still somewhat skeptical of the business and its practices. No one seemed to know where it had come from¡ªit had suddenly sprung up one day with a number of professional services already available. She suspected foul play, that it was likely run by some gang or other, but she didn¡¯t dare bring up the theory in public. There was no telling how the organisation¡¯s executives would react if she hit the nail on the head.


    Still, in spite of her concerns, she was not against the use of its services. Though somewhat rustic and frankly overly traditional, the food was always good and the portions were generous, perhaps even abnormally so for the price. The other services were of a fair quality as well, or at least that was the word on the street. Hilda herself had only tried their potions, which were cut precisely at the efficacy described.


    When they arrived at the tavern-cum-hospital, the party found it just as crowded as ever. They didn¡¯t have to wait outside, as they sometimes would on its busiest days, but finding a seat was a struggle. The only empty table was in the far back, where it often proved difficult to grab the chef¡¯s attention. Still, a table was a table, and they were soon gathered around it.


    Drinks were served immediately, thrown across the room with just enough force to come to a sliding stop in front of each guest. They were freezing cold, courtesy of the icy mugs in which they were served. Only hot drinks were provided in more standard containers, but no sane person would ask for such a blasphemous accompaniment to their evening meal.


    ¡°Damn, that hits the spot.¡± Jeremy rapidly flapped his wings as the liquid fire flowed into his tiny body. There was hardly any way to tell the man apart from a non-sentient animal. Brainpower aside, the talons on his wings were the only real differentiators. It was precisely they that allowed him to effectively wield his weapons.


    ¡°You¡¯d think they¡¯d need more security if they serve something this strong on the regular,¡± said Hammer. He wasn¡¯t quite as expressive as the birdbrain, but his fuzzy bear ears were twitching in bliss.


    Hilda had to agree with the assessment. She still wasn¡¯t sure exactly what the drink was, but it was much more potent than the ale and mead on the tap at most other locations. It burned the back of her throat as it went down, a sensation she had quickly learned to enjoy.


    ¡°I realise now that I have not seen any of this establishment¡¯s customers behaving in a way that may be described as violent or otherwise inappropriate in a public space,¡± said Gromp, as he took a sip. As a golem, a literal living rock, it was difficult to determine if the liquor had any effect, but drunk or not, he and nearly every other member of his species would rattle off so many words that any inebriated fool would be put to shame. ¡°What is more curious is that they would lack the vital role in an establishment that contains such a number of attractive young ladies given the propensity of a drunken adventurer to incorrectly consider the consequences of an attempted violation.¡±


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°Which one of the girls would you rate the highest?¡± asked the owl. ¡°For me, it¡¯s gotta be the catgirl. I¡¯d polish my talons for her any day of the week.¡±


    ¡°The white-haired girl is objectively more attractive if we are to consider their faces but her lack of enthusiasm leaves some to be desired,¡± said the clumped dirt.


    ¡°Eugh.¡± The owl shuddered. ¡°I don¡¯t know man, reptiles are a bit too far off the deep end for me.¡± He ruffled his feathers, loosely rearranging them as he turned to the mage. ¡°How ¡®bout you, kid?¡±


    ¡°H-huh? M-me?¡± His face reddened immediately. The werebear had been with the party for three years already, but he was still unused to their teasing.


    ¡°Yeah. Don¡¯t be shy, tell us which one you think is hottest.¡±


    Hilda rolled her eyes. She had been content sitting around while the two older men let the alcohol do the talking, but she drew the line at involving the youth. ¡°Stop corru¡ª¡±


    ¡°T-the doctor.¡±


    But she was cut off by the boy himself, outright silenced by his uninhibited claim.


    ¡°Damn kid, you¡¯ve got some weird tastes,¡± said Jeremy.


    ¡°S-she¡¯s not weird! She has really pretty eyes! C-can you imagine what it¡¯d be like to lick them?¡±


    ¡°Fuck this. I¡¯m out.¡± Hildegarde emptied her mug and stood up from her seat. ¡°Have him give me the usual.¡± She slammed the frozen container onto the table and marched straight for the bulletin. Despite having replaced the job board¡ªat least for adventuring and mercenary work¡ªthe MACC didn¡¯t list quite as many assignments. Those that were present, however, had the tendency to be either better paying or of greater interest. The cult extermination had been one such task. Hilda had grabbed it off the list just the previous night, after realising in a drunken stupor that it was a rewarding, government-issued job. It had certainly been tough, and they hadn¡¯t been allowed to take it until they had been vetted by the staff, but their bank accounts would very soon be swimming in cash.


    She scanned the board carefully again, and while she was unable to find anything particularly rewarding, she did end up with her eyes on a fairly promising request.


    It was a simple escort job; they were to take a merchant to Vel¡¯rulm and back. The particular path to be traversed demanded a high wage for its guards, given the time of year. With the coming of spring always entered the season for cultists. Driven mad by all the time spent cooped up in their homes, the particularly desolate and downtrodden would often emerge as the snowstorms faded and profess the new beliefs that had offered salvation in their darkest times.


    The cultist-to-population ratio was generally quite low, with only a select few individuals converting each year, but it had gradually seen a steady uptick over the course of the previous queen¡¯s rule. While she had good intentions, the monarch¡¯s lack of political skill left her blind to the embezzlement of her funds. Much of the money intended for the poor was stolen instead by the local magistrates, pocketed directly without so much as a need for a forged paper trail.


    The previous year had been the worst of all; too many of the nation¡¯s resources had been funnelled into military affairs, with much of the cash coming from reserves typically drawn upon for financial aid. Left with minimal food and no husbands on which to vent their frustrations, lonely housewives across the nation had found themselves with little choice but to sign up with whatever organisations were willing to fulfill their most basic needs.


    Though she knew that guarding a caravan was effectively akin to damning the poor, Hilda reached for the request regardless¡ªmany adventurers doubled as bandits to begin with and she frankly cared little for the social ramifications¡ªonly to have it snatched out from beneath her.


    When she looked down, her face already twisted in annoyance, she found a particularly tiny krana that stood at only a third her height. The midget was geared like a ranger. She had a shortbow mounted on each of her four arms and a large crossbow strapped to her back. Her whole body was covered from head to toe in projectile weapons, bombs ready to be ignited and thrown at whatever unfortunate creature happened to find itself in her way.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be taking that,¡± she said, in a particularly whiny voice. The monkey ranger¡¯s face was completely red, no doubt evidence that she had drunk far too much for her liver to handle.


    ¡°Drop it, midget,¡± snarled Hildegarde. She was already in a sour mood. She didn¡¯t have the time or mental bandwidth for another pint-sized problem. ¡°I had my eyes on that, and you know it.¡±


    ¡°Then you shoulda grabbed it when you had the chance,¡± said the chimp. She dangled the paper in front of her, holding it as high up as she could. Hilda immediately moved to snatch it from her grasp, but the monkey was faster, pulling it out of reach right as her fingers threatened to graze it. ¡°Too slow! Try harder next time.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fuck off!¡± Hilda drew the sword on her waist and pointed right between her eyes. ¡°Give it back, or I pry it from your corpse.¡±


    ¡°Hah! My corpse?¡± the monkey scoffed, ooing and aahing as she danced around her. ¡°Good luck with that one. A rust bucket like you ain¡¯t ever getting the better of me.¡±


    ¡°You think so?¡±


    The warrior stepped forward and swung her blade without warning. It was aimed at the simian''s neck, delivered with the full intent to kill. But with her frame so small, the tiny ranger was able to duck under it without issue. She dodged the kick that followed as well, laughing as she backflipped onto a nearby pole.


    ¡°Get the fuck back here, you little shit!¡±


    ¡°Hah! Looks like you¡¯re all talk after all,¡± she said, with a toothy grin. ¡°Must be humiliating, huh? Getting your ass run around by a shrimp like me.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you!¡±


    Already half seething, the human dug her feet into the ground, raised her sword in a two-handed grip, and lowered her stance. She cast the one spell she knew and prepared to kick off, but a chill ran up her spine right as the lightning crackled at her feet and scarred the polished, wooden floor.


    Spinning around, she found herself face to face with two of the MACC¡¯s receptionists. The silver-haired lady had a perfectly neutral face, while the foxgirl hiding behind her was half panicked. Though it certainly made for a curious sight, her attempt at stealth was laughably ineffective. She stood a full head above her coworker, with her ears poking even higher. Though she couldn¡¯t quite hear the fox¡¯s whispers, it was clear from the way that she was holding the other girl back that she was pleading for her not to get involved.


    ¡°If you want to fight, do it outside,¡± said the bolder receptionist. ¡°Or in the gym.¡±


    ¡°Just try and make me.¡± The furry gremlin responded with a cackle. Her obnoxious laugh lasted for all of three seconds before she found herself pinned to the wall with a hand against her throat.


    The monkey¡¯s eyes opened wide in fear, no doubt in part because of the tightening grip. She struggled against it, punching and kicking, but the silver-haired receptionist effortlessly kept her exactly where she was.


    ¡°Claire! What the heck!¡± shouted the fox lady. ¡°Lia¡¯s gonna throw a fit. You¡¯re supposed to throw them out gently! Not crack the wall!¡±


    ¡°This is gentle.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. right! She¡¯s literally gonna die if you don¡¯t let go in the next like five seconds!¡±


    ¡°She is?¡± The lady named Claire briefly turned her eyes back on the gremlin, who was not only unconscious, but foaming blood at the mouth. ¡°Oh. Oops.¡± She loosened her grip and set her down on the floor, where she lay twitching with her eyes rolled back into her head.


    When Hilda realised that the girl¡¯s eyes had moved to her, she immediately sheathed her sword and raised her hands. ¡°Sorry. Didn¡¯t mean to get carried away.¡±


    Claire examined her for a few brief moments, her eyes focusing primarily on the fresh stains on her armour. ¡°Come to the desk.¡±


    The human¡¯s first instinct was to turn around and run, but she couldn¡¯t. Not only did she not have the confidence to outrun the receptionist, who had moved quickly enough to appear as a blur, but she was also afraid that they would remember her face. Her cozy career in Vel¡¯khagan hung in the balance. There would always still be a few idle tasks she could find on the job board, but most of the monster hunting and adventuring work was already MACC-exclusive.


    Her head hung, she slowly followed after the reptile-like creature whilst shooting pleading glances at the members of her party. The rogue was the only one to spot her, but even then, he immediately averted his gaze, leaving her to the penalty at the end of her journey.


    She gulped as she arrived at the desk, her eyes flitting around nervously as she awaited her sentence. The receptionist, however, appeared to have other plans. She slowly sorted through a pile of papers without a word, leaving the human to sit tight, her worries compounding with every tick of the clock.


    ¡°Hildegarde,¡± she said, eventually, as she settled on a specific file.


    Hilda¡¯s breath was stuck in her throat. Her blood ran cold and her whole body tensed up as she slowly turned to meet the receptionist¡¯s gaze. ¡°H-how do you know my name?¡± she asked, nervously. Her mind was racing. With the way the conversation was going, she was sure to find herself removed and banned. ¡°I-I mean, sorry. It won¡¯t ever happen again. I shouldn¡¯t have let her taunting get the better of me.¡±


    The receptionist slowly shook her head. ¡°This isn¡¯t about that.¡±


    ¡°I-it isn¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°How many cultists were there?¡±


    The human cocked a brow. Her mind didn¡¯t catch up until she lowered her eyes and recognized the document as the request she had taken off the board the previous night. With a shake of the head, she cleared her head and recalled the most relevant facts.


    ¡°Almost but not quite a hundred in all. We slew most of them, including a priestly fellow, but a few stragglers escaped.¡± She looked around briefly, lowering her voice and leaning in as she continued. ¡°Err¡­ actually we found a vault as well, but we couldn¡¯t get it to open,¡± she said. ¡°We had our rogue try his hand at it, and threw some bombs too when that failed, but nothing.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Claire scribbled down a few notes with the pen in her hand whilst placing a series of coins on the counter with her tail. ¡°We can arrange for it to be cracked open in the morning, and have that double as the inspection that will confirm its completion,¡± she said, as she continued to write. ¡°Would you like to take the caravan request as well? You should have enough time. It isn¡¯t leaving for another three days.¡±


    Hildegarde eyed the woman curiously. ¡°Is that okay? Didn''t I just cause a bit of undue trouble? I thought for sure that I would be penalised.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a big deal. Happens all the time,¡± said Claire, with a shrug. ¡°How early will you be there? For the vault.¡±


    Hilda lightly tapped her fingers on the desk. ¡°I was thinking we¡¯d leave at around ten and get there around noon.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said the silver-haired receptionist. ¡°We¡¯ll have someone ready. Be here at ten.¡±


    A sigh of relief held in her throat, the human filled out the paperwork and quickly returned to her seat. She had not expected the MACC to be so generous or forgiving, with all the rumours as they were.


    The next morning, Hildegarde¡¯s party would be surprised to find the receptionist herself accompanying them on the trip. Through that encounter, and the subsequent vault break, the human and her companions would engrave a universal truth straight into their hearts: if the question was doors, then violence was always the answer.

 Chapter 282 - The Cursed Cavalier and the Lovely Lich

    Chapter 282 - The Cursed Cavalier and the Lovely Lich


    ¡°I¡¯m tired.¡±


    Claire flopped onto the desk as a satisfied customer walked out the door. It had almost been a month since the shop had opened. Business was booming, and there was always someone stopping by for either a last-minute potion run or a quick meal on the go. But while the new hires drew the most attention, it was not they that were burdened with the majority of the work.


    ¡°We need a better way of confirming when things are done,¡± muttered the lyrkress. ¡°I¡¯m tired of flying back and forth every single time anything needs to be checked.¡± Naturally, it was not every request that demanded the lyrkress¡¯ attention. Those that were particularly high profile would be dealt with via contracts¡ªFlitzgarde¡¯s magic would see to their fulfilment and provide immediate updates for completion or violation.


    Lower profile tasks demanded much less enforcement; they were handled primarily through the provision of physical evidence when possible and the client¡¯s signature or testimony when it was not. Of course, such an approach was not applicable to every scenario, hence the need to occasionally evaluate the results in person.


    ¡°Oh, come on! It¡¯s not that bad,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°You shut up. You¡¯re half the problem.¡± The lyrkress pinched the mascot¡¯s cheeks. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have to work so much if you didn¡¯t spend ten hours napping every single day.¡± She slowly shifted her glare to the catgirl at the counter. ¡°We need more staff.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± said Lia, with an awkward smile. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to find someone, but it hasn¡¯t been going so well.¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re setting the bar too high,¡± grumbled the lyrkress. ¡°We just need more people to deal with all the negotiating and paperwork.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s half the problem,¡± said the cat, with a shake of the head. ¡°You know how Ciel is still trying to restaff? The government has been snatching up anyone with half a mind for documentation.¡±


    ¡°Of course it¡¯s the stupid squid¡¯s fault.¡± Grumbling aloud, Claire grabbed her stress fox and gave her a squeeze. ¡°What about chicken?¡±


    ¡°Last I checked, she was muttering to herself over a bubbling cauldron,¡± said Lia.


    ¡°And the lion?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s out on another grocery run. We ran out of ingredients early again.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯d be useless anyway.¡± Squeezing the not-so-stuffed animal again, Claire slowly turned her eyes to the stack of papers seated on her half of the desk. Each document in the pile was a request to be analyzed and filtered; only decent work that checked all the boxes would be put up on the bulletin. Those for non-adventurers would be shipped off to the job board at the end of the day, while anything that lacked detail or otherwise failed to meet the requirements would be mailed back to its requestor. And much to Claire¡¯s dismay, most of the listings offered fell into the second and third categories. Of every ten submitted, only three or four would be posted, with another two or three eventually making it onto the board post revision.


    In most cases, it was the monetary value of services rendered that was the cause for contention; the shop negotiated on the adventurers¡¯ behalf and demanded specific minimum payouts that scaled with the amount of work and risk involved. The reception among task-givers was mixed. Some complained that their efforts made it difficult to hire orphans and urchins for cheap, while others were glad to discover that they had been previously overpaying and could easily save on expenses by offering a lower rate.


    ¡°Why are we so busy?¡± muttered Claire.


    ¡°It¡¯s a good thing,¡± said Lia, with a soft smile.


    ¡°For you, maybe.¡± The lyrkress placed her squeeze toy on the other girl¡¯s head. ¡°I¡¯ve had enough of running errands.¡±


    The cat lightly tapped the back of her quill against the tip of her nose. ¡°I guess we have been going at it nonstop for a while now. It¡¯d probably be good to take a break.¡± She flipped through her notebook and double-checked a few numbers. ¡°Last time she visited, Ciel mentioned that we would be able to borrow a few of her staff members if it ever came down to it. They¡¯re not quite good enough to sort through requests, but they should at least be able to man the desk and ledger.¡± She nodded to herself as she scribbled and circled. ¡°We should be good to take some time at the end of the week if we spend the next few days working just a little bit harder than usual.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not doing it,¡± said Claire. ¡°I¡¯ve had enough. I don¡¯t want any more work.¡± She cast the cat a resentful gaze. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I let you rope me into this in the first place. I¡¯d much rather be killing things.¡±


    ¡°We can go somewhere with monsters if that¡¯ll make you feel better,¡± suggested the cat.


    Claire paused for a moment before slowly shaking her head. ¡°I¡¯d rather not. Levelling up just sounds like more unnecessary work.¡± The experience was certainly tempting; it had almost been a month since the last kill was added to her logs, but she was far from sitting at a standstill. Her true form had entered a growth spurt of sorts; it was gaining a few meters each week, with her talons and teeth elongating to match.


    Her skills were also making a fair bit of progress. Even without any murder to boost her experience, she was gaining a skill level or two once every few days. Most came from weapon mastery, and perhaps because she relied so heavily on death¡¯s dance, her essencethief class was also chugging along.


    ¡°If you¡¯re okay with somewhere normal, then that¡¯s even better,¡± said Lia. ¡°Now the only question is where.¡±


    ¡°We can try asking Stella,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Ask me about what?¡± The doctor emerged from her den with a cart full of fresh potions in hand. She was looking as tired as usual; her eyes were baggy and lifeless, and her hair was a ragged mess, though that was almost a given with the scorching heat of her atelier. Sylvia had offered a window, but the siren had rejected it on the grounds that an increase in ventilation would only interfere with the potion-making process.


    ¡°Oh! Hey Stella, perfect timing!¡± said the fox. ¡°We were thinking of going on a company vacation thingy but we weren¡¯t really sure where. Do you have any ideas?¡±


    The former vet paused for a moment to fiddle with one of her jars, lightly swishing it in her hands as she watched the fluid jiggle. ¡°Depends. Is this supposed to be a day trip?¡±


    ¡°I was thinking that we could take a few days off, but not too many,¡± said Lia. ¡°The temps can only hold down the fort for so long.¡±


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°In that case, it¡¯d be best for us to stay local. Normally, I¡¯d suggest one of the resorts, but Garm¡¯s bound to be sick of them.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia tilted her head. ¡°Why would he be sick of ¡®em?¡±


    ¡°He used to run one,¡± said the siren. ¡°It was a bit of a pet project, but he gave up on it and sold it off to the Penhorns a few years back.¡±


    ¡°I guess that crosses that off the list then,¡± said Lia. ¡°I''d like it to be something we can all enjoy.¡±


    The doctor leaned back against the potion stand and scrunched up her brow. ¡°If that''s all you want, we could just all take some of this and call it a day.¡± She produced a small vial from her shirt and tossed it across the room. The clear liquid swished around inside the container, but its cork kept it tightly contained.


    A quick inspection of the label, written by an incredibly messy hand, revealed that it was a bottle of instant ecstasy. Neither Claire nor Sylvia were familiar with the substance or its properties, but the cat flushed immediately. Her face piping hot, she carefully set the vial down on the desk and pushed it back towards the doctor.


    ¡°W-why do you even have that?¡± she asked, as she adjusted her glasses in a fluster.


    ¡°It''s more or less a byproduct of making health potions,¡± said the doctor, with a shrug. ¡°You can keep it if you want.¡±


    ¡°I-I''ll have to pass, thank you,¡± said the blushing catgirl.


    ¡°Your loss,¡± said the doctor. She lifted the vial off the table and placed it back in her robe.


    ¡°What even is it?¡± asked Sylvia. Her eyes glowed in a faint green as she inspected it, but her head remained tilted. ¡°I know its got a whole lotta magic, but I can''t really tell what it does.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a pretty simple concoction,¡± said Estelle. ¡°Throw the scum off a layer of potions into a pot, add a couple mistroses, a chunk of bull shark milt, and a few more catalysts. Heat that for a few hours, and this is what you get.¡±


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ I dunno what that means,¡± said the fox.


    The doctor tucked her hands into her pockets with a grin. ¡°It¡¯s a love potion, and a real strong one.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice. ¡°Does that mean whoever drinks it is gonna fall in love with someone or something?¡±


    The doctor laughed. ¡°The only love potions that work like that are the ones you¡¯ll hear about in songs. This does something¡­ a little more realistic.¡±


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ can you just get to the point? I¡¯m still lost,¡± said the oversized squirrel.


    ¡°I-it¡¯s an aphrodisiac,¡± said the cat, in a whisper.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± said the doctor. ¡°Just one sip and you¡¯ll be quivering for hours.¡±


    ¡°Ohhhhhh¡­ now I get it,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯s kinda like the stuff Al has sitting around the library. I wonder why he had so much of it¡­ I¡¯m pretty sure some of his spells have the same effect.¡±


    ¡°The more important question is why the stupid cat knows about it,¡± said Claire, as she turned a skeptical stare upon the party¡¯s resident feline. ¡°What do you have to say in your defense, Pervert?¡±


    ¡°I-I¡¯m not a pervert, Claire!¡± cried Natalya. ¡°I-it¡¯s just that my master liked to collect them, so I just ended up learning about them.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said he didn¡¯t molest you,¡± muttered the lyrkress.


    ¡°He didn¡¯t, I swear! I-It¡¯s just that my sister and I ended up sharing one once because we wanted to know what they were fo-wait! What am I saying!? Why did I just tell you that!?¡± She buried her face in a pile of papers as her blush crept down to her neck.


    ¡°I knew you were a pervert,¡± muttered Claire. ¡°What kind of freak fools around with her own sister?¡±


    ¡°I-I-I don¡¯t know what you''re imagining, but w-w-we didn''t do anything like that!¡± shouted the cat. ¡°A-anyway, we''re getting off-topic. W-we were supposed to be pitching ideas for the vacation.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnnnn... oh, I know! We could go to the new colosseum thingy that the one weird horse guy set up!¡± suggested Sylvia.


    The temporary arena made of snow had been replaced with a massive limestone construct. Almost three-quarters the size of the Valencian colosseum, it had several configurable waterways running through the arena for fighters of a more aquatic make. The thirty-meter-wide pipes, which were enchanted to withstand thousands of times the amount of force that their otherwise glass bodies could typically endure, ran all the way up the sides of the building, leaking into an amorphous, watery blob that floated well above the arena. The pool intertwined its way through the airspace, doubling as an obstacle for those that relied on their wings.


    In the time since the Cadrian''s takeover, the battleground had gone from a desolate gambling den to a well-known attraction. The man''s strategy certainly played a key role; he had hired the best Vel''khanese warriors he could find and transformed them into symbols of the city''s power. By bringing in fighters from other townships and countries, he could easily deliver a narrative that stirred up the locals¡¯ pride and readily bought their interest.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not,¡± said Lia. ¡°I¡¯m not really a fan of that kind of stuff.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Didn¡¯t you totally join in last time? I remember you fighting like a whole bunch of people.¡±


    ¡°T-that was just because there was money involved,¡± said the cat. ¡°Didn¡¯t you see how lucrative the prizes were?¡±


    ¡°Great, this again.¡± Claire breathed a sigh as she rested her chin on top of a stack of papers. ¡°This is why everyone thinks you¡¯re a pervert.¡±


    ¡°First of all, I¡¯m not a pervert. And secondly, I don¡¯t see how those two things are even remotely related,¡± huffed the catgirl.


    ¡°You were literally rolling around in a pile of gold in your room last night,¡± said Claire.


    Lia¡¯s face, which had only just returned to its usual shade, was once again made as red as a tomato. ¡°Y-you saw that?¡±


    ¡°We both did!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And I guess technically Ciel kinda did too because I made her dream about it.¡±


    ¡°You did what!?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d hate to interrupt, but I have to head back to the atelier before the next cauldron is ready.¡± The siren placed a piece of paper between the three receptionists. ¡°Here¡¯s a list of everything I could think of.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± said Lia.


    The doctor replied with a halfhearted, lazy wave as she returned to her lab, leaving the trio to crowd and contemplate her list.


    ¡°Mmnnnnn, some of these places actually look kinda fun,¡± said Sylvia, as she pawed through the options. ¡°The aquarium sounds really tasty, but I think the zoo would probably be more fun.¡±


    ¡°Stupid fox.¡± Claire scratched vixen''s brow. ¡°Aquariums are for looking. Not eating.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know!¡± she said, with a huff. ¡°That¡¯s why I said it wasn¡¯t gonna be fun. It¡¯s basically a huge tease unless we go to some super fancy seafood restaurant later.¡±


    ¡°We could go see a play,¡± said Claire. ¡°Or maybe an opera.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Lia. ¡°That seems a little too stiff for a casual break. I don¡¯t think we¡¯d be able to spend more than just a few hours at the theatre without getting bored.¡± She traced her finger down the page, lightly tapping it as she considered the options. ¡°This is a lot harder than I thought it¡¯d be. It¡¯d probably be easier if any of us had something we¡¯ve always wanted to do.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I mean I¡¯ve always wanted to explore ¡®n stuff, but I dunno where we¡¯d even start,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°There is something,¡± said Claire, quietly, ¡°that I¡¯ve always wanted to do.¡± She grabbed a book from under the desk and opened it to a map of the region. ¡°The Ryllian Sea is supposed to have all the best chefs in the world,¡± she said, as she traced a finger from city to city. ¡°We could go around trying all the best restaurants.¡±


    ¡°So like a food tour?¡± said Lia. ¡°That could work, but it¡¯d probably need a bit more planning. I doubt we¡¯ll be able to get any reservations unless we call a few months ahead.¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°Not a problem.¡± She directed her eyes out the door and stared at the city¡¯s most prominent landmark. ¡°We just need to kidnap the stupid squid.¡±

 Chapter 283 - The Cursed Cavalier and the Lovely Lich II

    Chapter 283 - The Cursed Cavalier and the Lovely Lich II


    Claire fought back the urge to giggle as she wandered around the castle grounds. Technically, she was trespassing¡ªshe had slipped past the guards and entered the squid¡¯s domain in the middle of the night. In reality, there was no reason to sneak around. She had a face pass in both her humanoid and true forms, and Arciel had promised on account of their friendship to see any of the party¡¯s members at any point in time. But she didn¡¯t want an official visit. The lack of detection was precisely what made the prank so amusing.


    She was not at all operating with the cat¡¯s consent. Natalya¡¯s interpretation of the plan had not been very literal; she had given the snake-moose the benefit of the doubt and assumed that she would tackle the assignment¡ªrecruiting the queen¡ªthrough more conventional means. Alas, she had made an oversight, and Claire had taken full advantage.


    The plan was simple. She would sneak in, rip the squid out of bed, and bring her home. With so little on the checklist, it was practically foolproof, guaranteed to succeed, but she would not have been wandering if it was truly as easy as it seemed. The problem lay with the second step. She had no idea where Arciel¡¯s bedroom was. She had checked the towers first and foremost, as well as a location akin to her father¡¯s quarters, but the defective vampire was nowhere to be seen.


    ¡°Stupid squid,¡± she muttered, as she continued drifting about. She eventually gave in and tracked the monarch with her detector skill, but it gave a hazy response. It wasn¡¯t dysfunctional per se. She could tell that Arciel was somewhere in its range, but something was interfering and preventing her from pinpointing the queen¡¯s location.


    With a solid twenty minutes of walking and flying under her belt, the rabbit-eared deer caught wind of a familiar voice. It was distant but clear enough to be identified as belonging to someone she knew. Tracing it to its source, she found a gaggle of maids gazing hungrily into the kitchen. Their eyes were glued to the pies sitting on the counter, the scent of which pleased even the lyrkress¡¯ tongue. The most voracious servant, as well as the most familiar, was on the far edge of the group. She stood out not only for standing taller and drooling harder than the others, but because she was the only member without any fishy features.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± The maid, once responsible for handing out pounds of silver, didn¡¯t react even as she was tapped on the shoulder. Her coworkers paid a little more attention, but they returned to their prior business when one of their members was singled out. ¡°Chloe.¡± Likewise, her name failed to grab her attention. ¡°Chloe!¡± Claire grabbed her head and turned it as far as it would go, but the maid¡¯s eyes remained on the pie all the while.


    ¡°Ow!¡± cried Chloe. She rubbed her neck as she finally turned her body to greet the guest. ¡°You almost broke my neck!¡±


    ¡°Your fault,¡± said Claire. ¡°You should¡¯ve listened.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡± Sticking out her tongue, the maid arranged herself in front of the noble lady and lifted her skirt with a curtsy. ¡°I know that it may have seemed out of line, you would certainly understand if you tried one of Mr. Moreau¡¯s snacks.¡±


    ¡°I doubt that,¡± said Claire. ¡°The chef I had back home was better.¡± The miffed cook was clearly within earshot, but the lyrkress ignored him outright. ¡°Where¡¯s Arciel?¡±


    ¡°Ciel should be in her room. It¡¯s on the fifth floor. You can¡¯t miss it.¡±


    ¡°Show me,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I¡¯d love to, but¡­¡± the maid reluctantly glanced at the pie. ¡°Can it wait? Just a few minutes. I¡¯ve been looking forward to this all day.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then could you at least take one of the others?¡± she said with a pleading pout. ¡°It¡¯s really far, and Josephine and Coralie need the exercise way more than I do.¡± The blatant attempt at passing off the responsibility led two of the larger maids to shoot Chloe a pair of zero-degree glares, but she brazenly ignored both the walking sea urchin and the floating anemone.


    ¡°You can come on our food tour if you show me the way.¡±


    The maid¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Did you just say food tour?¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°Three days. As many meals as you can eat.¡±


    Chloe brought a hand to her chin, the thoughts racing behind her eyes clear as day. Some of the other maids showed interest as well, tearing their eyes from the cooling pie to discuss the idea among themselves. A taller orcaped adorned with a crown of curly blonde hair stepped forward and tried to volunteer, but an older kelpfin pulled her back with a shake of the head.


    ¡°Where were you planning to go?¡± asked Chloe, after a long pause.


    ¡°East,¡± said Claire. ¡°We might skip a few borders along the way while we¡¯re at it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m in.¡± The human grabbed Claire by the wrist and yanked her right out of the kitchen. ¡°Follow me!¡± She brought the halfbreed through a series of halls. The guards they passed were curious, but none questioned the maid or tried to stop her. For better or for worse, Chloe was a member of the castle¡¯s upper caste. ¡°By the way.¡± She spun around and looked the armoured halfbreed up and down. ¡°I¡¯d suggest a different outfit if you¡¯re planning to bed Ciel tonight. Roleplay¡¯s great and all, but she¡¯s still a virgin. You¡¯re probably taking it a bit too far for her first time.¡±


    Imitating a certain fox, a very confused Claire blinked exactly three times. ¡°I¡¯m not going to sleep with her.¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t?¡± It was Chloe¡¯s turn to be taken aback. ¡°Weren¡¯t you one of the ones she proposed to? I was sure you were here to tie the knot.¡±


    ¡°That was her idea of a joke.¡±


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­.¡± The maid narrowed her eyes into a suspicious stare. ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is that you¡¯re capitalizing on one of her mistakes? As one of her maids, I can¡¯t say I condone the behaviour, but personally, I think it¡¯s probably for the better.¡±


    Claire sighed. ¡°I liked you better when you didn¡¯t talk.¡±


    ¡°I get that a lot,¡± said the maid with a giggle. ¡°So while you¡¯re here, can you do me a quick favour?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to change anyway.¡± The maid continued unabashed and dragged Claire into a room filled with clothes and mirrors. ¡°I don¡¯t really know what you had planned originally, but I¡¯d really appreciate it if you could wear one of these.¡± She rummaged through a series of hangers and retrieved a maid outfit. ¡°You see, us maids have been trying to mend Her Majesty¡¯s poor broken heart after she was so wrongly rejected by the fair maidens three,¡± she said, in a parodied, theatrical voice, ¡°but she refuses to look our way. If you¡¯re going to deflower and manipulate her anyway, we¡¯d really appreciate it if you could give her a maid fetish while you were at it.¡±


    ¡°For the last time,¡± said Claire, with an annoyed glare. ¡°That¡¯s not why I¡¯m here.¡±


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    ¡°Please?¡± begged the maid. ¡°I¡¯ll do anything.¡± A blush creeping up on her face, she produced an awfully phallic object from under her skirt.


    ¡°Why does the stupid squid keep you around?¡± Claire pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°Knock it off.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fine.¡± Chloe sighed as she placed the wooden eggplant atop a nearby drawer, its tip standing tall. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to have to do this, but¡­¡± Her expression hardened. ¡°Lady Augustus, I am afraid that I cannot show you to Her Majesty¡¯s room unless you don the appropriate clothes.¡± In spite of her words, she almost seemed regal, like somewhere in her sorry excuse for a brain, she really did have the circuits required to function as a queen¡¯s maid.


    There was a moment of silence as the two parties stood staring, with the human emitting an ominous aura and Claire pressing her face into an open palm.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Eventually, the lyrkress gave in, breathing a tired sigh as she magically snatched the uniform out of the other girl¡¯s hands. ¡°Stupid humans and their stupid permanent heat.¡±


    The maid had appeared fully intent on watching, not bothering to move even as Claire put a hand on her armour, so she magically spun her around and shoved her out the door. Moving as quickly as she could, she turned her armour into a pair of fashionable ear braces and threw the uniform over her body.


    Still indignant, she moved everything back to its rightful place and stepped into the hall, her arms crossed and her lips twisted into a scowl.


    ¡°You look dashing, My Lady,¡± said Chloe, who was for some reason completely out of breath.


    ¡°Please just shut up and show me to the stupid squid¡¯s room already.¡±


    ¡°Right away,¡± said the maid with a bow and a grin.


    Much to the lyrkress¡¯ chagrin, it turned out that Arciel¡¯s room was just down the hall. The former princess was face up in her bed, her tentacles sprawled all over and a line of drool slowly dripping down the side of her cheek. Perhaps aware of her slovenly, unpresentable appearance, she started to stir as soon as the pair entered. So Claire grabbed a chair and bonked her over the head.


    It was an effective strategy. Though the royal seat certainly suffered some damage in the incident, Arciel went right back to sleep.


    Ignoring the appalled maid, Claire grabbed a piece of paper off the squidgirl¡¯s desk and scribbled a quick note.


    I¡¯ve kidnapped the queen. She¡¯ll be back in a few days.


    - Claire


    She signed the page with her usual scribble, as well as a quick drawing of an angry lyrkress, before throwing Arciel over her shoulder and beckoning the maid toward the window. She was about to leap out of it and fly away but changed her mind after a moment¡¯s delay.


    Raising a hand in front of her instead, she made a claw grip with her open palm and twisted the empty space. A rift opened up, leading into the sky above the sea. It wasn¡¯t exactly her destination, nor even anywhere near it, but she dismissed the mistake with a shrug and stepped through.


    The maid was hesitant despite her previous experience, but Claire grabbed her with her tail and chucked her into the portal. Revenge for the earlier shenanigans.


    ___


    Despite having gone out in the middle of the night, Claire awoke early the next morning. She got out of bed with a yawning stretch. And after glancing at the fox curled up by her pillow, wandered out into the hall.


    When she headed into Arciel¡¯s room, she found Chloe already standing by. Her back was straight, held against the wall, and there was a briefcase in her hands. She had no idea when the servant had put it together, but it apparently contained everything that she and her mistress would need.


    The maid turned towards her as soon as she entered and greeted her with a sad pout. ¡°Good morning, Lady Augustus,¡± she said. ¡°I can¡¯t help but notice that your uniform is missing and that Her Majesty¡¯s purity is unfortunately still unstained.¡±


    ¡°Really? First thing in the morning?¡± Claire groaned. ¡°Humans, I swear.¡±


    ¡°I will have you know that this is typical maid behaviour,¡± said Chloe. ¡°Our purpose is servitude and we exist to be used to satisfy all of our master¡¯s desires.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a blatant lie and you know it,¡± said Claire, with a roll of the eyes. ¡°None of my maids were deranged perverts like you.¡±


    Chloe cocked her head. ¡°I¡¯m afraid that¡¯s impossible, Lady Augustus. Why else would they become maids, when there are so many higher-paying positions that could be chosen with the same skillset? The answer is clear.¡±


    Claire buried her face in her open hand. She couldn¡¯t be bothered to deign the maid with a response. And fortunately, as it so turned out, she didn¡¯t have to.


    ¡°What¡¯s with all the noise? Is it time to go already?¡± Lia yawned as she groggily pushed open the door to her room. The cat was a mess and a half. Her hair was an untamed jungle, her glasses were crooked, and she was dressed in an oversized blanket. It was exactly how she was every morning, even as she grew more accustomed to rising early.


    ¡°I kidnapped the stupid squid,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Oh, they¡¯re here already? I¡¯ll go greet them.¡± Fixing only her glasses, the cat started down the stairs, only to stop as she caught sight of the maid. Craning her neck just a little more, she found the vampire. Arciel was still asleep, or perhaps unconscious, fearfully dreaming of chairs. ¡°Uhm.¡±


    ¡°She stole us away from the castle in the middle of the night,¡± said the maid.


    ¡°Wait¡­ the middle of the night? But then¡­¡±


    ¡°I told you,¡± said Claire. ¡°I kidnapped her.¡±


    ¡°Great. Of course, you did.¡± Lia pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed. ¡°Was she too busy to come?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Claire, with a shrug. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask.¡±


    ¡°Why am I not surprised?¡± sighed Lia. ¡°I¡¯ll have to apologize to the admiral, er, prime minister, later.¡±


    ¡°You sure got over that quickly,¡± said a wide-eyed Chloe.


    Lia flashed a strained smile. ¡°This is par for the course, as far as Claire¡¯s concerned.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware that Ciel preferred the wilder types,¡± muttered the maid, under her breath. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I can pull that off exactly, but¡­¡± She continued whispering something or other, her eyes glassing as she sank into thought. She continued to be lost in her own mind until Arciel started to stir, some ten awkward seconds later, at which point she suddenly snapped to attention and straightened her back. ¡°Good morning,¡± she said, with the sweetest of smiles.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± replied the squid. She idly looked around the room as she rubbed the bump on her head. ¡°And here I had assumed that my violent kidnapping was merely another figment of my imagination.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said Claire.


    Arciel gave the lyrkress a bit of a look. ¡°Then would you care to explain how I slept in one bed and woke up in another?¡±


    ¡°Simple. You sleepwalked.¡±


    ¡°Even if I was to sleepwalk,¡± said the squid. ¡°It would be within the castle. That also does not explain Chloe¡¯s presence. She would have awoken me had she found me wandering the halls in my dreams.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Ciel,¡± said the maid. ¡°But I was bribed. I was told that I would be taken on a wonderful food tour if I showed Claire to your room.¡±


    ¡°Whyever a food tour?¡± asked Arciel, with her brow wrinkled.


    ¡°Because I said so,¡± said Claire. ¡°Now hurry up and get dressed. We¡¯re leaving in a few minutes.¡± She moved towards the window, but stopped shy of jumping outside. ¡°Do you have anything on you that can prove your royalty?¡±


    ¡°I do not see why I would,¡± said Arciel. ¡°There are several seals in my drawers, but I would not have them on my person.¡±


    The lyrkress lightly flicked her tongue. ¡°I guess we¡¯ll have to stop by the castle again.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry.¡± Chloe opened up the briefcase and produced a sparkling sapphire cut into the shape of the moon. ¡°I figured that something like this would happen, so I grabbed everything we needed while you were changing.¡±


    There was a moment of silence. Claire stared at the maid with her face completely blank.


    ¡°What? Did you think I made you dress up for no reason?¡± Chloe flashed an impish grin.


    ¡°I¡¯m starting to think inviting you was a mistake.¡± A throbbing pain in the back of her head, the qiligon pressed a hand to her temple and returned to her room. Speaking to the maid had been a stark reminder of the reality that Alfred had long instilled. She really, really, hated dealing with humans.

 Chapter 284 - The Cursed Cavalier and the Lovely Lich III

    Chapter 284 - The Cursed Cavalier and the Lovely Lich III


    The vacation went swimmingly. After enjoying breakfast in one of Vel¡¯khan¡¯s finest establishments, the party hopped back on the road and sped to Sielleux for lunch. And it was there, in the famous city-state, some three hundred kilometers away, that they spent the remainder of their trip. Sielleux was a unique settlement, located between the powerful nations of Graton and Crechaux. It literally toed the line, with its city hall built directly atop the border and its sprawl growing equally in both directions. Many years ago, it had belonged to at least one of the two tiny nations, but with neither willing to yield or resort to war, it soon grew independent, becoming a self-governed territory with obligations to both and neither.


    Despite its bizarre political climate, wherein both nations¡¯ most patriotic were annoyingly vocal, it was a famous tourist trap. Its accessibility was a key factor in its success. The city was located in shallow water; the ocean floor was just a meter or two beneath the surface. There were tiny islands scattered throughout the settlement, forming small breaks in the sea with precise details always in flux. Few were large enough to host a building, and those that were often found themselves returned to the water or swallowed by trees at different times of the year. But while the fiercely natural islands were certainly as beautiful as they were famous, the midocean city was hardly known for its scenery. No, the visitors that entered its walls were far more invested in its absurdly high-class cuisine, too busy gorging their stomachs to care for something as tasteless as the view. For all anyone cared, Sielleux could have been built atop a dump.


    The Ryllian Sea was always a popular destination for food. It produced the best chefs across both its neighbouring continents. And as far as the hungry were concerned, Sielleux was its shimmering capital.


    It was not strictly just the quality of the food that drew consumers, but its availability as well. Restrictions in the city of chefs were so lax that it was the only Ryllian settlement where it was impossible to tell if a given Kelpfin restaurant was run by sentient sharks or specialized in their preparation.


    Goods considered illegal in many other nations were also freely available in the former pirate sanctuary. And while there was certainly the ability for some buyer or other to inebriate himself with deadly narcotics, it was for use in medicinal dishes that they were often sold.


    And that was the crux of the local government¡¯s strategy. With so many ships using it as a central port to rest and repair, a monopoly on rare materials, and low fees on import and export, Sielleux had an endless supply of exotic ingredients to work with. Celebrity chefs ventured from all around the sea to leverage its peculiar circumstances. Their gathering fueled an endless cycle. As more prestigious cooks arrived, the imported goods would be better tailored to their needs, both factors that would attract more of their kind. And so began the endless spiral.


    Five hundred years of repetition was all it took to create a cultural aberration. Sielleux had become the sort of place where the various carts and stalls lining the streets sold better food than the royal courts of many major powers. Chefs of all levels came to the city to study, to hone their skills and better themselves through careful, constant practice. Even the city''s bums were reputable cooks; there was even a prominent homeless man who brewed in his boots the most delicious ale to have ever seen the light of day.


    Delicious food was quite literally present at every corner, with every twist and turn filled with the faces of passionate artisans and content consumers.


    And it was in that revelrous elysium that Claire and Co spent their vacation. For a full two and a half days, they gorged themselves, eating and eating, and eating away. It was not with the power of their digestive systems that they dealt with their excessive consumption, but Sylvia¡¯s magic. Each time someone ate too much, she would open a rift in their guts and immediately do away with the problem. Of course, while it took up most of their time, the tourists were engaged in more than just mass consumption. They lounged by the beaches, swam through the sea, and shopped in the plaza. They paid each major destination a quick visit, staying for just long enough to get a sense of the food and relaxation that came therewith.


    But alas, fun as it was, all good things had to come to an end, and the vacation was no exception. They left on the third night, after their seventh dinner, and set out for Vel¡¯khan. With Claire at the helm, the trip was not instant. She couldn¡¯t quite pinpoint the location of Arciel¡¯s domain. But even with every fourth portal necessitating some time for recovery, they soon found themselves in the sky above the massive white castle.


    The guards were not at all thrilled by the forty-meter-long moose¡¯s sudden advent, but enough of them recognized her to prevent any notable commotion. Claire returned to the sky after four of the seven passengers disembarked and slowly drifted her way home. Her mood at a high, she slowly looked down at the city and took a moment to observe its near-empty streets.


    It was precisely because they were so empty that her eyes caught a flicker of motion. There was someone running through the alleys, their shadow growing and shrinking as they fled from a group of winged pursuers. The centaurian hunters were flying low to the ground as they often would in dealing with anti-air defenses.


    Neither Sylvia nor Boris were awake enough to notice the commotion, but Lia snapped to attention. Her hands shot to her waist and her back, but both weapons were missing; they had failed to accompany her on their trip.


    ¡°Claire.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really feel like it,¡± said the lyrkress, with a yawn.


    ¡°It¡¯s your knight,¡± said the cat. ¡°They¡¯re going to corner her soon if you don¡¯t step in.¡±


    There was a brief pause, with the flying moose tilting her head and nearly throwing her passengers into the sky. It took a moment, and raising her ears, to determine the root of the claim. ¡°Nymphetel isn¡¯t my knight. And he¡¯s a man.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush. You know what I meant.¡±


    ¡°Not at all.¡± Claire eyed the elf as he scrambled onto Main Street. Her telescopic sight soon confirmed that he was bleeding all over. His tunic was ripped in at least a dozen places. One of the blows had landed on his face and torn out an eye, while another had broken an ankle. His shoulders were even worse off. His back was filled with arrows; from a distance, he had looked more like a humanoid porcupine than anything even reminiscent of an elf. And yet, he had continued to run, a glowing orb cradled in his hands and his chest violently heaving.


    Turning lyrkrian, and eliciting a silenced scream from the cat, she halted her wings and plunged into an alley. A few moments later, she was on Fourth Street, just in time to magically seize the elf and force him to turn. He panicked at first and drew his blade when he noticed the snake moose, but lowered it when she shook her head and silently pointed at the shop. No words were exchanged¡ªthe enemies¡¯ spies could easily enhance their hearing and catch the interaction if they spoke¡ªbut he bowed his head and ran inside.


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    Natalya followed the elf into the building and reached for the sword under the counter, but her mount discouraged her with a shake of a head. When that didn¡¯t quite convey the message, she threw her vectors into the mix and quickly disarmed her.


    She closed the door and quickly lit one of the lamps before the pursuers could make the turn. She even scattered a few papers across the desk and placed a bottle of ink beside them. The set was perfect but pointless. The elf¡¯s pursuers no doubt had the Tracking skill or an evolved variant, and they would know that he was being sheltered. Still, the lyrkress remained confident in her success.


    A violent knock came almost immediately, with several soldiers bursting through the door before the residents could answer. The advance party consisted of five winged horses, the tallest of which immediately began to speak.


    ¡°There is a fugitive taking refuge at this location. Surrender her immediately.¡±


    ¡°Stand down, soldier,¡± said Claire.


    It took a moment for the warriors to determine her identity, their eyes flashing with recognition as they glanced upon her ears. They were no noblemen, but they hurriedly composed themselves and bowed, with their hands to their chests.


    ¡°L-Lady Augustus!? What are you doing here?¡± cried the man in front.


    ¡°I work here,¡± she said. ¡°Might you be Sir Pollux¡¯s men? Whyever are you doing something as rude as barging onto private property?¡±


    ¡°Forgive our discourtesy, Princess,¡± said the leader. ¡°We are in the midst of pursuing a heinous criminal. Might you have seen an elf with long orange-red hair?¡±


    ¡°Whether you are pursuing a fugitive or not, that is no way to behave.¡± She imitated Sylvia as she spoke, inflating her cheeks with an obvious pout. ¡°To answer your question, I have not, and I will not permit you to search the grounds.¡±


    ¡°Princess! Please do not be so unreasonable!¡± begged the soldier. ¡°The fugitive has taken up residence in this build¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stand. Down. Soldier,¡± she said, with a huff. ¡°I¡¯ll report you to Father if you keep making me repeat myself.¡±


    The man looked awkwardly to his comrades, who shook their heads and shrugged. It was not a predicament that they had expected. As non-commissioned officers, they had been briefed that the princess was in town, for some reason or other, but they lacked the security clearance to be given any information regarding her location. There were a few that occasionally came to the shop, but Claire had always made sure to hide immediately upon spotting a centaur.


    ¡°Evenin¡¯, Princess.¡± The bulk of the pursuers caught up as the advance party debated its approach. The second group was led by one of Pollux¡¯s highest-ranking officers, a miniaturised horse by the name of Fausta Silvanus. Unlike the other centaurs, who were dressed in armour, the tiny, flightless pony was wearing a loose uniform. It was not inferior to the armour by any means. The spiggerin threads used in its weaving offered even more protection than a standard steel suit.


    ¡°Good evening, Lieutenant Silvanus!¡± said Claire, with an amicable smile and a bubbly giggle. ¡°To what do I owe the pleasure?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s not have any of that, yeah?¡± said Fausta. ¡°You already know what we want. Give us the elf, and we¡¯ll be out in a flash.¡±


    ¡°I am terribly sorry, Lieutenant. I have not the faintest idea what you are talking about.¡± She stuck out her tongue. ¡°We have many sensitive documents on hand and I cannot allow these soldiers to inspect them.¡±


    Fausta crossed her arms and tapped a hoof against the floor. The stare lasted for a few minutes before she spun around and led her men back out the door. They shuffled after her in spite of a lack of orders, with some casting glances in the princess¡¯ direction, and others whispering questions to their friends beneath their breaths.


    ¡°They left? Just like that?¡± asked Natalya. She blinked as she looked between the lyrkress and the door.


    ¡°They knew they would die if it came down to a fight.¡± Claire shrugged. ¡°And that I would¡¯ve been happy to engage.¡±


    The catgirl smiled awkwardly. ¡°Right. Cadrian.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    Magically closing the front door, the lyrkress walked across the lobby and opened the entrance to the infirmary. Further pushing open a set of curtains, she revealed Nymphetel collapsed on one of the beds with his wounds yet to heal.


    It was purely on a whim that she had aided him. His fate was no concern of hers¡ªtheir relation extended only as far as having escaped from the same man¡ªbut she was curious. He may have been a Blackroot with typical elven beliefs, but he was hardly enough of a fool to needlessly leave himself exposed to danger.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± he mumbled. ¡°I owe you.¡±


    Claire didn¡¯t bother acknowledging the gratitude, only staring coldly as she sat down by his bed. ¡°Why haven¡¯t you fled the country?¡±


    ¡°You make it sound like I haven¡¯t tried,¡± he said, with a grimace. ¡°The damned count¡¯s men make it impossible for us to leave. They¡¯ll always cut us off, no matter where we try to go.¡± The elf massaged the bags under his eyes. ¡°We even tried hitching a ride on the ocean liner, but it was a no-go. They bought out the whole thing the moment they caught onto our plan.¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t they have caught you already if they can read that far ahead?¡± asked Lia.


    Nymn bit his lips. ¡°They probably would¡¯ve, if the old bastard wasn¡¯t so twisted. He¡¯s toying ¡®cause he thinks it''s fun.¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°Sounds like him.¡± She pointed at the lich, or rather the core that was supposed to exist in the pit of her stomach.


    ¡°Is she alive?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Just tired and out of mana,¡± said the elf. ¡°We¡¯ll be out of here as soon as she wakes up. We managed to contract a group of traffickers. They might be able to smuggle us out tomorrow morning if we¡¯re lucky.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother,¡± said Claire. ¡°Knowing Pollux, he probably already has them in his back pocket.¡±


    Nymphetel grimaced. ¡°It¡¯s not like we have any other choice. We¡¯ve tried everything else.¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence, with the cat soon stepping forward. ¡°Do you have any experience with paperwork?¡±


    The elf raised a brow. ¡°Of course. I may have been a squire, but I was still technically a knight.¡±


    ¡°Then you ca¡ª¡± The sentence devolved into a squeal as the cat was made the victim of a vicious pinch.


    ¡°Not a good idea,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Why? Is there something wrong with him?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll make an enemy of the marquis.¡±


    Natalya met the lyrkress¡¯ warning with a smile. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll deal with him when it happens.¡±


    Claire was hesitant, but eventually released the cat¡¯s cheek and stepped away from the bed.


    ¡°You can just stay with us,¡± said Lia. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like they¡¯re willing to do anything to you with Claire here, and we¡¯ve been looking for more people to help us with documentation. It¡¯d probably be best if you stayed in our house, and it just so happens we¡¯re lucky enough to have the spare rooms to host you. As for the pay, how does a silver a month sound? Given that lodging is included.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯d be glad to expand the scope of our responsibilities if you¡¯d raise that to two,¡± said the elf. ¡°I put on a pathetic showing just now, but I¡¯m good for more than just deskwork.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll have to depend on the specifics. What kind of responsibilities¡­¡±


    Claire¡¯s mind wandered as soon as they began exploring the details. It took only a few dozen words for her brain to totally shut down and fly above the Cadrian sky.

 Chapter 285 - Prelude of Storm VI

    Chapter 285 - Prelude of Storm VI


    Claire fought back the urge to yawn as she swam through the blushing aether. She moved at a leisurely pace, soaring over Vel¡¯khan so slowly that even the non-eldritch birds could easily pass her. It had been a week since they returned from their vacation; ten whole days had gone by in the blink of an eye. The elf and his accompaniment had both settled into life at the shop, and it was precisely thanks to their efforts that Claire could spend so much of her time journeying through the skies.


    It was perfectly timed. With spring in full force and many monsters producing fresh litters, the number of extermination requests had spiked tenfold. Alongside the increase in the job count grew an unfortunate need for verification. It was always difficult to determine if a request for culling had been successfully fulfilled given that they often required extensive research and careful consideration. The shop did of course post guidelines outlining expectations for clients on both sides of the equation, but even then, claims were frequent. The commissioners often found themselves unhappy when new monsters moved in to take a removed threat¡¯s place, and while the hired blades were responsible for identifying and culling any likely candidates ahead of time, it was impossible for them to nip every problem in the bud. Snake-mooses were not the only creatures that could go from worthless to powerful practically overnight, and aggressive monsters often saw themselves favoured in the struggle for survival.


    Hence, it was up to the MACC¡¯s inspector (read: Claire) to determine if their contractors completed their assignments in good faith.


    The number of intentional offenders was surprisingly low, perhaps thanks in part to the longtime establishment of the job board and its associated culture. In Cadria, there surely would have been at least one cheat for every ten do-gooders, but the local population was compliant enough that the lyrkress alone could handle the inspector¡¯s role with ease.


    Prior to the new hires¡¯ arrival, she would have had to return to a mountain of paperwork, but the new hires had taken to their role in stride. Or at least one of them had. Though technically qualified for the task, Nymphetel was hardly any good at it. It took him five hours to finish what any other employee could finish in two, and he showed no signs of improvement over the course of his tenure. The lich, on the other hand, sat on the opposite side of the scale. She worked with the speed of a clerical prodigy and cleared out three days of documents in no more than an hour.


    According to the elf, it was typical behaviour for members of the Drohk clan. She, Charlotte Juliette Eloise Drohk, was effectively an embodiment of its principles. Like most other liches, the Drohks put their clan names first and abbreviated the rest in the interest of time, hence she was Drohkchar before the public eye. Of course, between friends, or apparently coworkers for that matter, the official designation was unnecessary, and she was fine with simply being referred to as Charlie or Charlotte.


    Regardless of the name used, the lich¡¯s competence remained unparalleled. Her casual efforts freed the rest of the staff from the horrors of documentation and allowed them to further engage the business¡¯ other offerings. Natalya had shifted to a role focused on consulting and instruction, with the latter taking up the majority of her time. It was all thanks to her first apprentice, who had already graduated from her lessons and gone on to become a breadwinner in his own right. He wasn¡¯t exactly outstanding¡ªas far as adventurers went, he was very much a greenhorn¡ªbut he was doing well enough to keep his clients happy and his friends fed. And it was precisely on that result that the locals had set their eyes.


    Children and adults alike signed up for Lia''s classes, not only orphans like the bear cub, but common folk and members of the lesser nobility as well. The sudden change in the monarchy''s approach to handling its funds had left many without their old jobs, and killing monsters was a fair way of making ends meet. In the worst case, the resulting prey could simply be eaten. Common pests like goblins and the like were effectively unpalatable, but they were surprisingly nutritious in spite of their rancid flavour.


    With so many newcomers excited to take her lessons, Lia was effectively running a school and taking care of kids all day. When she wasn¡¯t engaged in the lessons themselves, she was actively planning them, tailoring specific assignments to specific students and debating the various methods she could employ to pass on her knowledge and experience.


    And it was precisely because she was so busy that Claire was surprised to find her standing outside the shop upon her return. She and Boris were chatting with the neighbours, namely the bipedal dogs and the less-bipedal pigs that operated the shops a little further up the road.


    There was no commotion, neither when the qiligon arrived in her true form, nor when she suddenly shrank to a humanoid size. For the people that lived in Vel¡¯khagan, the flying moose had become an ordinary sight. And although the sudden advents and disappearances were very much a reason for the snake creature to be worshipped, there were few that could be bothered. The particularly keen-eyed among the public had determined that she was shapeshifting and subsequently spread the knowledge around.


    While the information¡¯s availability certainly reduced the number of curious investigators, so too did it come with its own set of problems. The city¡¯s mermaids had unilaterally decided that she was an illusory beast and that the consumption of her flesh would grant them her shapeshifting abilities. One particularly shameless group had even asked for a sample. When news of the ensuing rejection spread, an even bolder party requested a few scales for use in their armour. Naturally, they too were rejected and greeted with fists to the face, which to the snake-moose¡¯s annoyance, only furthered the rumours¡¯ spread.


    Lia broke free from the neighbourly crowd and walked over as Claire escaped the sidewalk. She seemed awfully full of energy for someone stuck dealing with children all day, perhaps even happy to have settled into the role.


    ¡°Welcome back! How did it go?¡±


    ¡°Same as usual,¡± said Claire. ¡°Nothing to report.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s great,¡± said the cat. She peered at the moose¡¯s face for a moment, her eyes shimmering beneath the evening light. ¡°It¡¯s getting a bit late. Want to go grab some dinner?¡±


    There was something about the question that sounded off. It was unnatural, perhaps even recited. Still, Claire responded with a nod. ¡°Okay. Where?¡±


    ¡°I was thinking we could check out the restaurant that Melly opened up recently.¡±


    The shop in question was located on the edge of Birdtown, a stone¡¯s throw away from the forest¡¯s perimeter. It was so close that its shadow extended into the dense jungle, though that was in part thanks to its design. Engineered primarily for fliers and their ilk, the restaurant¡¯s height was over a dozen times greater than its width. The vast majority of its seats were out of the average ground-dweller¡¯s reach¡ªperches and overhangs with tables suspended from up above. Likewise, the food was just as bird-oriented, often featuring items that were partially or entirely uncooked.


    ¡°I¡¯m not eating bugs,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I know!¡± said Lia. ¡°Falgwyn mentioned that she came up with a few dishes with better wide-market appeal. She wants us to try them and tell her what we think.¡±


    Claire blinked. ¡°Who?¡± The name was entirely unfamiliar. Try as she might, she was unable to match it to a face.


    ¡°Melly¡¯s mother.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Now hurry up, let¡¯s go!¡± Lia started walking immediately, eliciting another confused stare from the snake.


    ¡°Is it just us?¡±


    ¡°Sylvia ate already,¡± said the cat. ¡°And uhmmmm¡­.¡± She lowered her head. ¡°I noticed that you¡¯ve been getting a bit antsy lately, so I thought it¡¯d be nice if we could spend some time together before you took off.¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°We can stay a few more weeks. But I want to be gone by summer.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Lia twisted her lips into a strained, sad smile, ¡°I figured.¡±


    A moment of silence.


    ¡°Do you already know where you¡¯re going next?¡±


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    ¡°Not yet.¡± Claire shook her head. ¡°Anywhere but here. Father knows where I am. The last thing I want is for him to suddenly show up in front of my door.¡±


    ¡°Well, in that case, how about coming with me to Paunse?¡± suggested the cat. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking of going back and visiting a few old friends.¡±


    Claire blinked. ¡°Aren¡¯t you wanted in Paunse? For desertion.¡±


    ¡°Paunsean laws aren¡¯t nearly as bad as Cadrian ones,¡± said Lia. ¡°And it¡¯s not like they¡¯ll know they¡¯re supposed to arrest me in the first place.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Claire nodded. ¡°Not a princess with obvious features.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s normally supposed to be the norm, not the exception,¡± mumbled the cat.


    Claire shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it, but heading north only brings me closer to my father.¡±


    ¡°I know. It was just a shot in the dark,¡± said Lia. ¡°Oh yeah, that reminds me, I have some good news. I submitted an application the other day, thinking that it would probably be shot down, but it turns out we¡¯ve been approved for incorporation.¡±


    ¡°Why did you even bother?¡± asked the lyrkress, with a tilt of the head.


    ¡°The tax benefits are so good you wouldn¡¯t believe them. We¡¯d only be charged half as much as a standard business.¡±


    ¡°You could¡¯ve just spoken to Arciel. She¡¯d happily exclude you from taxes.¡±


    Lia shook her head. ¡°That wouldn¡¯t do. I¡¯ve become one of this country¡¯s citizens now, and I¡¯d like to fulfill all my duties. Besides, Ciel¡¯s already having issues with the budget as is and we pull a decent sum.¡±


    ¡°Then why incorporate in the first place?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fair game because it¡¯s available to all members of the public,¡± said the cat. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have done it if it needed special permissions.¡±


    They continued to chat idly as they passed the city¡¯s wall and ventured through its suburbs.


    For them to be alone was a development that Claire found somewhat bizarre. Sylvia was usually attached to her like a limb, but she had left earlier in the day at Alfred¡¯s behest. Apparently, she was needed to finalize some of the procedures involving Arciel¡¯s kin.


    According to the celestial¡¯s report, thirteen of the forty-seven women rescued were miraculously still in their right minds. There was a bit of instability when it came to the details of their higher brain function¡ªthe trauma forced upon their artificially extended lives had certainly taken its toll¡ªbut they were otherwise as functional as imperial bloodkraken were meant to be. Of those thirteen, three would be heading home to the castle, while another nine would remain in Llystletein to take care of those still battered and broken. The final squid girl had apparently volunteered to work under the ancient human¡¯s wing. And though they had never met, Claire immediately assumed that particular individual clinically insane.


    It was debatable if the remaining bloodkraken would ever be unbroken, but Alfred pledged that he would continue to do what he could so long as his temple remained standing.


    They happened to pass by the building in question as Claire entertained the thought. The shape was hardly out of the ordinary. Its form was that of a standard cathedral with few outlandish features. If there was one thing to note, it would be its cleanliness. Alfred had no pastors or priestesses. The church was clearly unserviced. And yet it remained as spotless and polished as it had on its opening day.


    The locals had already discovered the mysterious phenomenon, with many among their number subsequently choosing to acknowledge the deity described by the documents within. Flitzegarde¡¯s worshippers were somewhat suspicious at first, but the state¡¯s sanctioning and explicit funding ensured a positive outlook overall. It was well known that the queen was one of Griselda¡¯s faithful, and if she and her god backed Alfred Llarsse, then there was hardly reason for any common citizen to stand in denial.


    Meltys¡¯ shop was just a little bit beyond the chapel. It was visible from the same street and served as one of the tallest buildings in a part of town where verticality took center stage.


    Entering the building revealed a completely foreign space. There were perches all over, populated by birds and their feeders. Only the ground floor had any tables, all ten of which were devoid of guests.


    A group of hand-sized shoggoths greeted the party as they stepped through the door, gathering around their feet and crooning as they rubbed their blobs against the guests¡¯ ankles. A flustered server followed soon after in their wake, holding a series of broken leashes in her bright yellow talons.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± she cooed. ¡°They¡¯re not used to ground-dwelling guests.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, we don¡¯t mind,¡± said Natalya. She played with one of the eldritch puppies as she spoke, patting it on its strange, amorphous head and scratching the spot beneath one of its eyes. She had been somewhat put off by the slime-like creatures at first, but her aversion to them had long abated with how frequently they wandered Birdtown¡¯s streets.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad.¡± The owl ruffled her feathers as she landed in front of the party. ¡°Most of the natives around here don¡¯t seem to understand how cute they are.¡± Her glasses were half fallen off her face, the rims clearly too large given her lack of a nose. It was only on top of her beak that they rested, uncomfortable enough that she needed to lean forward to see through them. ¡°Wait, aren¡¯t you Lia?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Mrs. Falgwyn asked us to stop by when we had the chance.¡±


    ¡°Gotcha. I¡¯ll let her know. You girls can take a seat anywhere that¡¯s open.¡±


    The group moved to the nearest table and sat down. They were asked for the choice of drinks and brought food a moment thereafter. It was clear that the birds had at least done some amount of thinking. There were no bugs on any of the platters and the food was largely hearty and stewed, perfect for anyone looking to grab a quick bite away from home. But while it was pleasantly warmed, the pine nut goulash was far from correctly adapted to the locals¡¯ preferences; few would explicitly venture to the edge of town for what was effectively a bowl of oatmeal and hummus.


    Falgwyn considered their feedback earnestly. She scribbled a series of notes onto a piece of scrap paper before thanking the girls and returning to the kitchen. She muttered under her breath as she went, listing off ways that the recipe might be improved.


    And so dinner ended. The pair stepped out of the restaurant with their stomachs full and their opinions given. Claire immediately began walking in the house¡¯s direction, but stopped when she felt a tug on the hem of her blouse.


    Spinning around revealed a wistful smile. The cat¡¯s tail was down and her hands were trembling, her eyes a mix of yearning and hope. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Can we talk for a little longer?¡±


    There was a moment of silence as Claire watched the feline¡¯s glisteningly bright eyes. ¡°Okay.¡±


    Natalya led her in the opposite direction. Silently, they walked even further west of the town and made their way up a once-snowy hill with a swing still hanging from its crowning tree.


    ¡°This is my favourite spot in town,¡± said Lia, with a small smile. ¡°I¡¯ve always loved the way it overlooks the city. And it helps that it comes with a lot of fond memories here.¡±


    Claire nodded, even though Natalya was facing the other way. ¡°Like the picnics. And the napping contest.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Another moment of silence.


    ¡°You know, I actually came here every time I felt really homesick.¡± Lia¡¯s voice trembled. ¡°But staring at Vel¡¯khagan always made me want to stay.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m no¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I think it¡¯s the perfect place,¡± said the cat, cutting her off. She slowly spun around, her ears still drooped and her eyes watery. ¡°Claire. I know you¡¯re going to go and that there¡¯s nothing I can do to stop you.¡± She picked up the lyrkress¡¯ hands and clasped them in her own, bringing them close to her chest. ¡°But I want you to know that I¡¯m going to miss you.¡±


    Claire nodded, but said nothing. She simply stood still and lowered her eyes as the tears slowly trickled down the cat¡¯s smiling face. It was forced, blatantly, obviously forced. And soon, it began to crumble. She lowered her face, but her trembling shoulders left the message loud and clear.


    It took a few minutes for her sniffling to calm and lend itself to speech. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure what to think of you for a really long time.¡± Her voice was quiet, barely audible with the insects chirping the night away. ¡°You¡¯re selfish, overbearing, and proud to a fault. You never listen to anyone and you always try to solve your problems with violence. Your father killed my sister. And no matter how much time passes, that will never change. I¡¯d always assumed that you¡¯d be just like him. Cold and unmovable. Like a mountain in the snow.¡±


    A brief pause.


    ¡°But it turned out you weren¡¯t as cold as I thought. It¡¯d be a stretch to say you¡¯re kind, but that¡¯s only because you¡¯ve always been afraid to reciprocate, with how unkind the world has been to you.¡± The cat smiled softly. ¡°You weren¡¯t a bad friend to me. But I still think it¡¯s kind of weird.¡±


    Another pause as she took a breath.


    ¡°That I ended up falling in love with you.¡±


    She kept her eyes on the ground, not daring to raise them.


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know how or why it happened. But I¡¯ve never been able to take my eyes off your back. Not since the day we met.¡± She finally raised her eyes, her puffy, tear-stricken eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Claire shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t feel that way about you.¡± Her face was blank. Perfectly, perfectly controlled.


    ¡°I know.¡± Lia¡¯s whole body shook and trembled as she squeezed out her next words in a whisper. ¡°Sorry, but can you leave me alone for a bit?¡±


    Nodding, Claire turned around and descended the hill. Her ears were held close to her head. Tuned to mute the catgirl¡¯s whimpers.

 Chapter 286 - Return to Form

    Chapter 286 - Return to Form


    It didn¡¯t take long to see the status quo restored. Despite having bawled her eyes out the night prior, Natalya was back to usual by the time she crawled out of bed the next morning. From then on, she immersed herself in her work with vigour, giving to her students all of the affection that she had previously kept bottled inside.


    Claire remained on guard for a few days, somewhat concerned that Natalya was unwilling to accept the outcome, but she also returned to form by the end of the week. And so went business as usual.


    The only notable change was to the shop¡¯s identifier. According to all official documents, the MACC had become the MACCI, though there existed exactly zero customers or stakeholders willing to voice the label. The modification made to the storefront signage was just as haphazard as its new moniker. The letters that Natalya had ordered were hammered directly into the corner of the signboard, further ruining the shop¡¯s already appalling exterior.


    Unsurprisingly, Natalya¡¯s business was not the only one to incorporate. It was a popular trend around the city, and the local smiths, artists and woodworkers were all sick of the accompanying orders. Some had even banned such commissions outright, stating that it was an affront to their pride that they were unwilling to accept. But while the old blood was stubborn, younger opportunists welcomed the flood with open arms, taking on jobs that their peers lost out on and expanding the base of their clientele. And it was precisely one such individual with whom Claire was stuck conversing.


    ¡°What do you mean you couldn¡¯t get any more psalmbark!? You filled every other order!¡± The angry customer, a young, hot-headed craftsman, slammed his fist against the counter as hot ash spewed from his stone face. ¡°How the hell am I supposed to wrap up my work now!?¡±


    Claire¡¯s smile remained perfectly solid. ¡°I¡¯m terribly sorry, sir, but as you were informed previously, we cannot post your assignment with the payout as is. You will have to raise your offer or wait for the forest to calm.¡±


    ¡°Raise my offer!? This is literally exactly what I paid last week!¡±


    ¡°As I¡¯ve mentioned three times already, the area was recently invaded by a herd of bicorns. I warned you when you picked up the last batch that we would not be able to service another request unless you were willing to raise your prices.¡± Claire retrieved a piece of paper from under the desk and presented it to the woodsmith. ¡°As you can see here, it was noted in the record. We suggested a twenty-five percent hike, but you failed to comply.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a whole extra coin, lady.¡± He pressed his palm into his brow and groaned. ¡°How the hell am I supposed to make a profit with prices like these?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it would be an easy task, given that you have doubled your own prices upon noticing the surge in demand.¡±


    ¡°Huh!? Wait, so you¡¯re just doing this because I¡¯m upselling my stuff!? What the hell kind of scam is this!? I¡¯m not paying five whole silver for some dumb timber!¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯m afraid I will have to ask you to leave,¡± said Claire, her smile still unblemished. ¡°We have both already laid out our terms, and it¡¯s become clear that we won¡¯t be able to reach an agreement.¡±


    ¡°The fuck!? I¡¯m not leaving until I get m¡ª¡±


    The rock man was suddenly cut off by a hand to the face. The porcelain white fingers dug through his skin, unflinching even as they were touched by the magma that leaked from his skull.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid, Sir, that I told you to leave. And if you won¡¯t be doing so of your own accord, then I will be forced to remove you.¡±


    He was already flying through the air by the time she finished speaking, sent straight out the door and onto the street, where he wound up lying unconscious.


    As for the perpetrator? She was nonchalant. The coldblooded serpent turned towards the other receptionists and lightly dusted off her hands, her face already returned to its usual blank look.


    ¡°And that¡¯s how you do it.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure that was supposed to be a good example?¡± asked Nymphetel, with a crease in his brow.


    He was in the middle of onboarding. With the lich capable of handling all the paperwork on her own, Nymphetel was quickly shuffled into a number of other roles, eventually settling in at the front desk. There simply wasn¡¯t anywhere else he could really fit. A few preliminary trials had confirmed he lacked the skill to work in the kitchen or infirmary. Teaching was also not an option. He wasn¡¯t patient enough around kids and beginners to be left in charge of their handling. And so, he wound up out front, dealing with customers in spite of his distaste.


    ¡°I know it doesn¡¯t exactly seem intuitive,¡± said Lia, with an awkward smile, ¡°but sometimes it can¡¯t be helped. I¡¯d prefer you didn¡¯t resort to violence as quickly as Claire, but don¡¯t hesitate to protect yourself if the customers start getting aggressive.¡±


    ¡°Does it really get that bad?¡± asked the elf, with a cock of the brow.


    ¡°Sometimes!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It used to be a lot worse, but nowadays I think we only get a few people trying to jump the counter a week.¡±


    Nymphetel pushed back his hair and breathed a sigh. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not like I don¡¯t know where they¡¯re coming from, but still. A few a week is absurd. You¡¯re saying that¡¯s less?¡±


    ¡°It used to be a few a day,¡± giggled Sylvia. ¡°But then Claire beat them all up, and now they¡¯re mostly docile.¡±


    And so the day continued, with Claire demonstrating the explicitly Cadrian solutions to the many problems encountered. Work came to an end as night fell and the trickle of customers slowed to a stop, with most of its employees flooding out of the shop. Estelle and Garm remained, however, with the former working on her personal projects and the latter offering a dinner service for those still looking to drink.


    Though it ran late into the wee hours of the night, the shop was always clean by morning. Surprisingly well organised for a bachelor, Garm would always line the unconscious customers out back and clean up the store before he locked it up. No one knew exactly how much sleep the male cat was getting, but it couldn¡¯t have been much. Breakfast was always cooking by the time anyone else arrived.


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    According to the man in question, the behaviour was perfectly normal. His many long years at sea had seen him equipped with a sleep resistance skill that kept him going around the clock. That, however, was not to say that he was entirely immune to fatigue, hence why he could often be found dozing off in the middle of the day.


    Like Estelle, the retired pirate had taken advantage of the change in his career to chase a number of pet projects. There were several different barrels of wine fermenting in the shop, as well as a variety of pickles and dried meats. He had started by commissioning the adventurers to bring him the goods he needed, but the details changed as the shop''s reputation grew. It had long become commonplace for the regulars to bring the old chef any items that caught their interest, offering them in exchange for a portion of the final product.


    Though the Cadrians had never quite attacked following Claire¡¯s intervention, Nymphetel flitted his eyes around as they moved through the streets. He couldn''t help but suspect that they were still watching, waiting for him to separate so that they could capture him for their master''s pleasure. Shuddering at the thought, he continued to stand at attention, reacting to every shadow and sound with a gulp and a leap.


    He didn¡¯t calm, even as they neared their home base. He charged straight towards the front door as soon as it was in sight, leaving the others to greet the neighbours in his stead. He didn¡¯t have a key, but he didn¡¯t need one. A set of vectors undid the lock as he reached for the doorknob and granted him free access to his borrowed home.


    But despite his prior enthusiasm, driven by both his fear of the Cadrians and the urge to see his girlfriend, the elf froze in place as soon as he creaked it open. He stood perfectly still, his eyes wide and his hand unmoving.


    He sealed and reopened the building after a brief delay, but found the same mind-numbing result.


    Fed up, Claire shoved him aside and inspected the hall for the source of his confusion. She quickly deduced that it was Boris. Or more accurately, it was also Boris, just like every other ikarett that filled the living room¡¯s space. He was unmistakable. The collective shared the same derpy, vacant look, and though their sizes and shapes differed, they all greeted her with their usual slow blinks as she entered the building.


    ¡°What the heck, Boris!?¡± cried Sylvia. ¡°Why are there so many of you?¡±


    The army of Borises looked at each other, with each shrugging and further consulting another. The game of broken telephone continued for a while, with the lizards eventually turning back to Sylvia and answering with a collective shrug.


    ¡°What the heck do you mean you don¡¯t know!?¡±


    A second set of blinks and stares spread throughout the crowd like a ripple on the surface of a lake.


    ¡°Wait, so you took a nap, woke up, and it was pretty much already like this?¡±


    Boris (plural) nodded.


    ¡°That¡¯s weird¡­¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Have you tried disabling the skill?¡± asked Claire.


    Boris (still plural) tilted his head.


    ¡°So you¡¯ll take up less space.¡±


    The ikaretts conferred amongst themselves for a while before shaking their heads. Evidently, they hadn¡¯t the faintest clue as to how they were supposed to go about ceasing their existence.


    ¡°Maybe we need to kill the fakes,¡± presumed the lyrkress.


    ¡°Uhhhh maybe? Can you even tell which one is real?¡± asked Sylvia.


    Claire shook her head. ¡°I assumed you could.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ They pretty much all seem the same to me,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Maybe Boris knows.¡±


    The legion shook its head.


    ¡°Stupid lizard,¡± mumbled Claire.


    ¡°Oh wait! I remember reading about something like this in a book once. We just have to ask him a bunch of questions that only the real Boris will know! Then we just beat up all the other ones.¡±


    Claire sighed and pinched the fox¡¯s cheeks. ¡°Sometimes, I think you¡¯re even dumber than the lizard.¡±


    ¡°Huh!? What the heck!? Now that¡¯s just rude!¡± cried the vixen. ¡°I¡¯m way smarter than Boris! There¡¯s literally no contest!¡±


    ¡°Intelligence is relative. It depends on exactly what you¡¯re looking to compare.¡± Nymphetel said something or other, but nobody looked his way.


    ¡°You are definitely not smarter than Boris,¡± said Claire.


    Sylvia puffed up her cheeks. ¡°You know what? Fine! Me and Boris are gonna have a brain-off! If I win, then you owe a hundred belly rubs.¡±


    ¡°And if I win, you have to be my pillow for a week.¡±


    ¡°A whole week!?¡± cried Sylvia. ¡°Isn¡¯t that kind of unfair? A hundred belly rubs is only like five minutes worth.¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if you¡¯re really smarter than him, does it?¡±


    ¡°Ughhhh¡­ Fine. There¡¯s no way I¡¯m losing to Boris even if you do something underhanded.¡± Sylvia grumbled. ¡°So how are we supposed to figure out who¡¯s smarter anyway?¡±


    Claire paused briefly to think. ¡°We could try a math test. I¡¯ll ask seven questions. Raising a hand or tail and answering correctly gets you a point, and the pet with the most points at the end wins.¡±


    ¡°Mmk, you¡¯re on!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Hey! Wait a second! I¡¯m not a pet!¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Shrugging off the complaint, Claire formed a tablet made of ice. The backside was stained like an expensive piece of glass and coloured purple with a dose of divinity. It was impossible to correctly make out the numbers being inscribed on the opposite side.


    ¡°Okay. Are you ready for round one?¡±


    ¡°Yup!¡± said Sylvia.


    Boris (offensively plural) was not quite as vocal, but the hivemind¡¯s members eventually replied with silent nods.


    ¡°Okay. Then here goes.¡±


    She flipped the board around and revealed the first question, etched forever into the ice as 1+1=?.


    ¡°Wait a second! I thought you were supposed to be testing how smart we were! Why the heck is that one so easy!?¡±


    But while she complained, her opponent took advantage. One of the metal lizards sitting in the back of the room lazily raised his tail.


    ¡°Yes, Boris?¡± said Claire, completely ignoring the out-of-turn fox.


    The chosen lizard walked through the parting crowd like a prophet through the sea. Confidently, he raised his face to the tablet and, after a moment of second-guessing, grew a dagger from his nose and carved his answer into the ice. He held his head up when he marked his win, a musical feature almost seeming to play in the background as the jaws around him dropped in awe.


    Awe and disappointment.


    ¡°Want those belly rubs now?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Yes please!¡± said the fox. She immediately flipped onto her back and giggled as she was treated to a moment of bliss.


    The competition was decided with zero points on the board.


    For the number that Boris (not singular) had written was slightly greater than ten.

 Chapter 287 - Return to Form II

    Chapter 287 - Return to Form II


    It was an afternoon like any other. The cool spring breeze flowed through the shop¡¯s windows, and its receptionists stood lazily at their shared desk. Adventurers of all experience levels went in and out the door, some drunk, others ready for another long day at work. The traffic was regular, progressing at a fairly steady pace until one supposedly reputable dungeon diver decided to block the front door.


    ¡°What the heck is that!?¡± Sylvia opened her eyes wide as she watched a giant frog squeeze its way through the entrance. The shout prompted not only the other receptionists but also some of the customers to turn their eyes towards the source of her surprise. Despite its size, the magical anuran was not a real monster, but rather a stylized recreation closer in nature to a doll or stuffed toy.


    Perhaps because it was somewhat difficult to transport, the plush was filthy, covered in footprints and mud. The person pushing it inside was no cleaner, having tussled with the massive amphibian for however long it took to deliver.


    ¡°Fuck if I know,¡± she said. The speaker was an armoured human warrior. She, Hildagarde of Vel¡¯achkan, was known among the locals as one of the MACC¡¯s regulars. Her party picked up at least three jobs a week, sometimes more if there was no need to travel. Unlike many of the other groups, they were not at all afraid of the more powerful foes that occasionally popped up around the city.


    According to Silvia, it was courtesy of their level. They averaged around three hundred¡ªlow by Cadrian standards, but fairly high by their Vel¡¯khanese counterparts. They could have easily earned high ranks in the military if they had chosen to enlist, or perhaps made a killing in a dungeon-based city. But they chose neither path on account of their late leader¡¯s wish.


    ¡°We found it in some ruins, and we were hoping that one of you girls could take a look and tell us what it¡¯s worth.¡± The bright green frog almost seemed to grow when it entered the building, standing so tall and wide that it barely avoided the shelves and chandeliers.


    ¡°Why the heck did you bring it inside!?¡± cried the fox. ¡°If it¡¯s that big, you could¡¯ve just left it out back.¡±


    ¡°My bad,¡± laughed the human. ¡°But I figured this would be the best way to show you how it works. From what we can tell, the damn thing pretty much grows to the size of whatever room or container it¡¯s in. It¡¯s got a pretty big default size too, but it only takes that when it hasn¡¯t got a space to fill.¡±


    ¡°Wait, really? That seems kinda silly,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem silly. It is silly,¡± said her chair. ¡°How does it work?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure, but based on the fact that it heals itself, probably the same way as a runecloak,¡± said Hilda. ¡°We accidentally banged it up a bit when we were dragging it around, and the damn thing¡¯s still in perfect condition.¡± The human drew her sword and gave it a quick slash to demonstrate. Surely enough, the runefrog saw its wound immediately patched.


    ¡°Strange,¡± said Claire, with a tilt of the head. ¡°An artificer might want it. But it¡¯s difficult to price.¡± She walked out from behind the counter and looked the giant frog up and down. It stirred something in her chest, a faint violent urge, but it was quickly suppressed. ¡°Nymphetel.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I know.¡±


    The elf heaved a sigh as he picked himself off his seat and headed for the infirmary, returning after a few minutes with the resident doctor and information broker in tow. Estelle was hardly in a presentable state. There were bags under her eyes, her clothes were stained, and her hair was as messy as seaweed. It was clear at a glance that she had pulled yet another all-nighter, working on some personal project or other, and her lunchtime nonpresence suggested that she had only awoken when Nymphetel had disturbed her.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing this is what you wanted me to look at?¡± She yawned as she approached the toy with a series of lazy steps.


    ¡°If you could, yeah,¡± said Hilda. ¡°You think we can sell it?¡±


    ¡°Not happening,¡± said Estelle. ¡°Doubt anyone¡¯s got the space to store anything that big. Not unless it¡¯s worth its weight in gold, anyway.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not as bad as it looks,¡± said Hilda. She produced a small jar from inside one of her pockets and grabbed the stuffed animal¡¯s legs. It didn¡¯t look like it was even remotely possible for the toy to fit, but miraculously, with a few minutes worth of effort, she was somehow able to force it into the container. ¡°That¡¯s the other half of its ability. It can fit in pretty much anything, but getting it in is always a tight squeeze. It¡¯s pretty fluffy too, so I thought it could make a decent toy for some noble kid.¡±


    ¡°I doubt you¡¯d get any more than a silver or two if you sold it as a toy,¡± said the broker. ¡°Claire¡¯s probably right. Pawn it off on an artificer, and you could get as many as twenty.¡±


    ¡°Twenty!? I could renovate my house for twenty!¡± Hildegarde¡¯s eyes lit up, and she immediately began pestering the doctor for all the juicy details. ¡°Hell yeah! Take that, Gromp! I knew it wasn¡¯t worthless!¡±


    The pair soon began discussing the details, with Estelle listing off a number of possible buyers and their likely offers and quirks. In the meantime, the receptionists took the opportunity to return to their work¡ªnot that there was much work to be done. With a whole four and a half people manning the front desk, it was rare for any given individual to be busy outside of the morning and evening rushes.


    ¡°That has to be the weirdest thing anyone¡¯s ever brought in,¡± said Sylvia. She hopped off her favourite seat and took up a position atop the counter.


    Potion-related materials aside, the shop was not in the business of purchasing items from its clientele. But as an information broker, Estelle was often tasked with evaluating the worth of whatever goods were found on the spelunkers¡¯ expeditions. She was not a state-approved appraiser by any means, but her connections allowed her clients to find far better prices than what they would have on their own.


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    ¡°The singing door was weirder,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°There was a singing door?¡± asked the fox, her eyes wide.


    ¡°You missed it because you were napping.¡±


    ¡°What the heck, Claire! You should¡¯ve woken me up if there was something that weird!¡±


    ¡°Singing doors aren¡¯t weird. They¡¯re quite common where I¡¯m from.¡± Having wrapped up her business with a customer, Charlotte walked away from her counter and joined the group conversation.


    The lich was not purely skeletal, as she had been during their initial encounter. Her bones were certainly visible, but overlaid directly atop her frame was a translucent, phantom body that displayed a humanoid form. Though it could be easily seen through, so too could it be touched; her clothes sat on the phantom flesh as opposed to the bones that lay beneath it.


    In that form, her features were clear. She had short black hair, bright red eyes, and a brilliant smile that could easily charm anyone not put off by her visible skull. By Claire¡¯s evaluation, her ears were too small, far closer to that of an elf¡¯s than a centaur¡¯s or faun¡¯s.


    ¡°Wait, really?¡± asked Sylvia, wide-eyed.


    ¡°She had at least three on the first floor alone,¡± said Nymphetel. ¡°Her parents used to teach them obscene songs because they thought it was funny.¡±


    ¡°They still think it¡¯s funny. Last I heard, they were waking up the neighbours in the middle of the night.¡± It was a response that prompted a laugh from the lich and a groan from the elf, with the pair exchanging a series of matching smiles right after.


    ¡°That reminds me! How long have you two known each other anyway?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Since he still looked like a boy,¡± said the magical skeleton.


    ¡°Oh, shut up,¡± grumbled the elf. ¡°It¡¯s not like I want to look like this.¡±


    ¡°Wait a second¡­¡± Sylvia tilted her head and blinked three times. ¡°I mean your face is a bit girly, but can¡¯t you just like cut your hair? And uhm, wear something that isn¡¯t a skirt?¡±


    ¡°He can¡¯t,¡± said Claire. ¡°He¡¯s cursed.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice. ¡°Wait, really?¡±


    The elf brought a hand to his brow. ¡°It¡¯s a long story.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay! We have plenty of time,¡± said the oblivious fox.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be¡­¡± Nymn mumbled a complaint under his breath and rubbed his temples. ¡°Alright, fine. I doubt there¡¯s any hiding it with Claire here anyway.¡±


    He sat down in a chair, heaved a series of sighs, and finally, with one last hefty breath, opened his mouth to speak.


    ¡°It all began in the winter of my eleventh year, roughly six seasons after I proposed to Charlotte. I was out exploring the woods. Nothing unusual, happened a lot when I got into scuffles with my old man.¡± The words were his, but the voice was not. Looking around in confusion, he found the resident lady with a smirk on her face and a glint in her eyes. ¡°So a bit of background note,¡± she continued, ¡°my dad¡¯s the sort of guy that represses shit and lets it loose on his family. Awful bastard, really.¡±


    ¡°How do you know all that?¡± asked the elf, his face twisted into a grimace.


    ¡°I overheard you explaining it to Mariabelle when you were trying to seduce her,¡± said Claire, nonchalantly.


    ¡°Nymn!?¡± cried a mortified lich.


    ¡°T-that¡¯s an entirely baseless accusation!¡± he shouted. ¡°You know I¡¯d never betray you, Charlotte!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve cheated on her at least seven times, by my count,¡± said Claire. ¡°But anyway, on with the story.¡± She cleared her throat as the elf¡¯s was wrung. ¡°So one time, the old piece of shit was hitting my mum and screaming that he hated how she looked. I got sick of it, jumped him, and ran off when I realised he was gonna kick my ass. Little did I know that I would grow up to inherit his taste for whorehouses. I can hardly believe it myself.¡±


    ¡°Lady Au¡ªClaire! Please!¡± The elf wheezed as his girlfriend¡¯s eyes formed literal tears of blood, but Claire only stuck out her tongue.


    ¡°Uhmmm, Drocksie?¡± Fortunately, Sylvia was there to keep her reigned in. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure Claire¡¯s only saying that stuff to mess with you.¡±


    ¡°She is?¡± The rage vanished from the lich¡¯s face in an instant. Suddenly serene, she looked curiously at the lyrkress, who only returned a vague smile.


    ¡°I heard that liches were murderously monogamous,¡± she said. ¡°And I wanted to see the truth for myself.¡±


    ¡°Oh, whew.¡± Charlotte breathed a sigh. ¡°Please don¡¯t scare me like that. I was about to kill him and then myself right after.¡±


    ¡°Charlotte,¡± groaned the elf, as he coughed. ¡°Didn¡¯t we agree that you would always hear my side of things first?¡±


    ¡°And I did,¡± said the lich. ¡°But your rebuttal sounded like some sort of awful excuse.¡± She was already back to being mad, albeit not mad enough to return her hands to his gullet.


    ¡°So uhmmm, can we get on with the story?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Fine,¡± said Claire. ¡°So there I was, smack in the middle of the forest in the depths of wint¡ª¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to hear,¡± said Nymphetel in a fluster. ¡°I met the Goddess of the Frozen Wilds, mistook her for a man, and got cursed. Big deal.¡±


    ¡°Cursed to look like his father¡¯s ideal woman,¡± added Claire. ¡°And with all your exposure to Alfred, I¡¯m sure you can imagine everything that followed.¡±


    ¡°Oh uhmm¡­ wow,¡± said Sylvia, with one less blink than usual. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know who this Alfred character is, but it probably isn¡¯t as bad as whatever you¡¯re thinking,¡± said Nymphetel. ¡°I ran away from home before he could get any ideas. That¡¯s how I wound up in Cadria.¡±


    ¡°And he didn¡¯t even take me with him,¡± complained the lich. ¡°Can you believe the nerve of this man?¡±


    ¡°How awful,¡± said Claire, with an obviously fake pout. ¡°I can hardly believe that you would give such a terrible gentleman the time of day.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes I think the same thing,¡± said Charlotte. ¡°But a promise is a promise, and our souls are forever bound.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you have to entertain his nonsense. For example, you could always¡­¡±


    Nymphetel could only sigh as the lady stoked the lich¡¯s flames. Claire was clearly doing it for fun, but his beloved was unlikely to notice. The adorably earnest undead would surely take keenly to the ideas presented and spend the next few days treating him in the manner the lady had described.


    It was certainly not an ideal development. But neither did he find it particularly distasteful.


    He had been worried when the lecherous marquis had foiled all their plans.


    But in the end, everything had turned out just fine.


    He had to thank Natalya. Her efforts had allowed him to protect her smile.

 Chapter 288 - Return to Form III

    Chapter 288 - Return to Form III


    Claire stood silently before a door in the infinite darkness. After one, two, three moments of hesitation, she placed her hand on its knob and slowly twisted it open. She expected to see the castle when her eyes regained their function, or perhaps the Cadrian skyline sitting beyond the horizon. But all that awaited her was an infinite field of tall, bright grass lit perfectly beneath the morning sun.


    She was seated in a coach, surrounded by maids of all shapes and sizes, as it slowly bumbled its way across the countryside. Two of the servants were centaurs, and another three were thorae, but there was plenty of room to spare. Each lady was allotted a moose-sized space, even in the case that said lady was a meter-tall rabbit. The Cadrian transport that held them all was an impressive piece of work. Drawn almost entirely by magical means, it was another masterpiece designed and handcrafted by the most famous artificer in all the lands.


    The sheer size of the final product revealed that it was too large for most city streets, and for good reason. Its belly was filled with smaller, deployable units that could carry its passengers through any tighter spaces. And though there was certainly one present, the artifact didn¡¯t require a driver. If left unsteered, it would default to following any similar units located ahead of it, like the one that housed her father.


    Claire was somewhat put off by the development, but the fake was practically bubbling with joy. It celebrated her arrival with an internal squeal and wrapped its mind¡¯s arms around her soul. The reason for its elation was clear as the sunny spring day¡ªit was bored out of its mind, and she was a fresh source of entertainment.


    Feigning an exasperated sigh, Claire backed away and greeted the fake with a small smile. She couldn¡¯t give it her undivided attention right away. First was the matter of her father.


    The lyrkress raised her ears above her head and carefully observed him. He had clearly reacted when she first descended into the fake¡¯s body. Half-expecting him to burst from his carriage and charge her, she reached for the door and prepared to flee, but he did no such thing. He simply remained where he was, his eyes fixed on her through two sets of walls. She couldn¡¯t see him, of course, but she could tell from the pressure that threatened to crush her that he was watching her every move.


    There were countless guards present, circling the carriage and marching alongside it. Still, she responded to the provocation with a flash of divinity as bright as the fake¡¯s body could allow. A chuckle escaped his lips, clear as the thundering of the guard that rushed to her carriage. When he looked inside, confused, she only greeted him with a smile. A perfect, practiced smile.


    Though completely bewildered, the man quickly backed down and returned to his position to confirm that there was nothing to report.


    It was then and only then that Claire returned her attention to the sulking fake. Not-Claire was holed up in one of her mind¡¯s corners, hugging her nonexistent knees to her nonexistent chest with her cheeks puffed up and her ears deflated. When prodded, she only faced the other way, huffing instead of offering a real response.


    But while such an approach certainly worked on the maids and melted their hearts, the original was not quite as malleable. She continued poking the fake¡¯s ethereal cheek, jabbing it over and over until she finally gave in and faced her.


    And then, together, they looked beyond the window, across the plains and up the Langgbjern mountains.  Towards the bright Cadrian sky.


    What would have been boring by oneself was a fun activity for two, with the fake pointing at various landforms and Claire explaining them in detail. For a moment, she felt like she understood what it meant to stand in Allegra¡¯s shoes. And the cat¡¯s as well. There was certainly some joy to be derived from tutelage, to sate someone else¡¯s curiosity and wonder. But for as much as she would have liked to bask in the sensation, it was soon cut short by the thorae across the aisle.


    Lady Beatrice Gallia, the insectoid ogress that doubled as her personal hairdresser, eyed her suspiciously. Bea¡¯s antennae twitched as she continued to watch her charge, the halfbreed¡¯s figure mirrored a thousand times in her compound eyes.


    ¡°What is it, Bea?¡± Taking matters into her own hands, Claire greeted the maid with a curious tilt of the head. ¡°Is there something on my face?¡±


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    She had to fight back the urge to giggle as she watched the familiar face bounce between states of curiosity, shock, and confusion.


    ¡°No, but¡­ something about you seemed different,¡± she said. It was a natural trait of her species that had spurred the observation. Thoraen antennae were particularly sensitive to magic, and though she had perfectly maintained the fake¡¯s otherwise deflated outward demeanour, the bee-ogress had eventually caught on.


    ¡°That must be because I¡¯m feeling well enough to speak,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Of course. That is wonderful news.¡± Beatrice scrunched up her face, as if not quite convinced, but Claire ignored her and returned her eyes to the window. She had said enough. There would be no way for the maid to question her any further without coming off as rude.


    As she continued gazing upon the fields, she found herself recalling one of the trips she had taken with her mother. They had taken the same carriage and travelled the same westerly path, only it had been a bit later in the year. With summer at its peak, the grasses had turned golden, endless threshes of wheat and hay as far as the eye could see.


    It was still beautiful in its vibrant green, there were few sights that could match a flaxen field lit by the setting sun. Perhaps it would be ready by the time of the fake¡¯s return, but she lacked the knowledge to draw a conclusion.


    According to the homunculus, she was to spend the better part of two months away from the capital. The king and his daughter were to visit the three most powerful houses across the western territories and spend a week with each. Officially, it was to perform an audit of the land as to better determine the direction of any further development. But knowing her father, she suspected the story to be a coverup for some military affair or other. The western nations had always been a thorn in Cadria¡¯s side. Their alliance trapped the Cadrian advance to the continent¡¯s easterly side, with a combined force over a million heads strong.


    And it was precisely to deal with that threat that the three marquis had been instated. Like Pollux¡¯s, the titles borne by the frontier¡¯s governers were technically not hereditary. They were held instead by powerful and trustworthy warriors¡ªmen whose lifespans could not be measured in mere hundreds of years. Of the thirteen marcher lords, only four had been replaced since Cadria¡¯s initial expansion, all of whom had fallen at her father¡¯s hands.


    For a moment, Claire pondered the possibility of ruining his plans by informing his enemies, but she quickly gave up on the idea. They were too far to contact and had no reason to trust her words. She was much more likely to be attacked, and the last thing she wanted was to accidentally lighten Virillius¡¯ load by acting in self-defense.


    A sigh escaped her lips as she returned her eyes to the window and joined the fake in studying a distant windmill. She could feel the boredom slowly creeping up on her, so she soon shook her head and closed her eyes. For a moment, she considered leaving on her own, but the body¡¯s other inhabitant insisted on a visit. So she cast the realm, fried her circuits, and brought them both to Vel¡¯khagan.


    The darkness only lasted a few moments. When she came to, she found herself lying in bed with a familiar fox held close to her chest. Sylvia began to stir, but a scritch of the ears quickly put her back to sleep. Claire had always been the earlier riser. That was also why she was typically responsible for breakfast, however bad her cooking may have been. But on that particular morning, she wouldn¡¯t have the opportunity.


    The fake was already wide awake, pulling her tail around the room as it curiously inspected her personal space. It was already on its fifth visit, but it went through the motions all the same.


    Claire sighed. She quickly transformed her silken nightgown into a set of outerwear and climbed out the window. It was a bit of an old habit, derived from her time in the manor, and that was precisely why she found it so hard to shake. She spread her wings, closed her eyes, and ascended to a height that provided the fake a full view of the city.


    The homunculus¡¯ whims had them dive towards the central plaza first and foremost. They flew through the streets, their ears fluttering and their hair billowing in the wind. It was still early enough that there were hardly any commuters, but the few floating around were readily inconvenienced by their reckless speed. They darted between the buildings, spun through the alleys, and whirled past the scattered landmarks before rising above the city again with breakfast from a random stall in tow.


    The fake looked around a little more, but the excess of choices saw it completely frozen. Eventually, it turned to her, teary-eyed, and asked to be taken to one of her favourite places. Claire immediately started heading for the usual hill. She paused for a moment as she recalled the previous week¡¯s awkward encounter, but before long, the princess and her double found themselves basking in the spring breeze atop the old wooden swing. Back and forth their body went, with every repetition taking them higher and further than the last. It was nowhere near as thrilling or invigorating as diving through the sky. Their speed was negligible, and the forces that computed their movements even more so. And yet, it filled them with a sort of liberating joy.


    A joy that lasted until the fake started to tire.


    The rhythmic swinging slowly put her to sleep, causing her to retreat from the original¡¯s body and return to Cadrian soil.


    ¡°Sweet dreams.¡±


    The other her was already gone.


    But with her eyes on the horizon, towards her distant homeland, she whispered the words regardless.

 Chapter 289 - Return to Form IV

    Chapter 289 - Return to Form IV


    Claire brought a cup of fresh water to her lips as she wrapped up her midday meal. Lunch had been a simple but delicious affair. They had enjoyed a rich clam chowder made from the early morning catch, with Sylvia heading to the market in person to pick the juiciest morsels. The remaining ingredients were just as fresh and delicious, sourced directly from a field managed by one of Garm¡¯s former acquaintances.


    ¡°All done?¡± Sylvia raised her head with a yawn. She had been lying face-down on the table, equal parts bored and drowsy. The fox-tailed fairy had finished eating some twenty minutes prior. To her dismay, she was given seconds but not thirds. The pirate-turned-farmer that supplied the requisite vegetables hated the idea of growing crops for commercial use, and only ever sold the shop enough for personal consumption. Unfortunately for the local foxgirl, he couldn¡¯t be bothered to account for the volume of her stomach.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± The lyrkress slowly pushed herself out of her seat and, after nodding at the elf and the siren that shared her table, meandered towards the front door.


    ¡°Where are you headed?¡± A voice from the desk stopped her before she stepped out. The cat was all smiles, leaning against the counter with her face in one hand and a pen in the other. She had been scribbling something in her diary, stopping only to cover it when the lyrkress¡¯ eyes began to wander.


    ¡°Abelsville,¡± said Claire. ¡°The Saint-Jerome inspection will have to wait for tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Be careful!¡± said the cat. ¡°The Waveriders were a pretty decent group. You probably won¡¯t want to be as reckless as usual if whatever¡¯s there is strong enough to wipe them out.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Lia!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure to keep her out of trouble.¡±


    ¡°Somehow, that only makes me even more worried,¡± muttered the cat.


    ¡°Wow! That¡¯s just rude!¡± cried the fox.


    ¡°Not really,¡± said Claire. She pulled her hood over her eyes and left the shop with Sylvia sitting on her shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re a bit of a troublemaker.¡±


    ¡°How!?¡±


    ¡°Figure it out.¡±


    No sooner had the door closed behind her than the smirking longmoose spread her wings. She shot into the air like a missile, assuming her true form and turning towards the west as she broke past the clouds. The incident that she was set to investigate was that of an abnormal disappearance¡ªa reputable party of adventurers that frequently visited the MACC had set out on a quest roughly a week prior and subsequently vanished on the job. Their assignment was to exterminate the cultist base that had suddenly popped just south of the village¡¯s location. With Abelsville less than ten hours away on turberusback, it should have been a quick mission that spanned only a few days. But a week had passed since, and neither the village nor any of the party¡¯s members had sent any reports.


    They were presumed dead, and it would be up to Claire and Sylvia to confirm the cause and resolve the accompanying scenario.


    ¡°Do you think the cultists decided to kill everyone?¡± asked Sylvia, with a tilt of the head.


    ¡°I doubt it was them. They¡¯re usually not that bold.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Sylvia tilted her head. ¡°I swear half of them set up their bases in plain sight.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because they¡¯re stupid,¡± said Claire. ¡°Not because they¡¯re belligerent.¡±


    Cultists were already targeted and marked for extermination even if they kept their activities nonintrusive. Any group to step out into the limelight would only paint a larger target upon their backs. In most countries, they were considered pests. Nearly every sovereign nation ironed an extermination clause into their legislature¡¯s core. Some countries handled it with their armies, sending them in to stomp out any groups before they could grow too big, while others, like Vel¡¯khan, tasked local governments with employing mercenaries and adventurers to do the work instead.


    But while anyone judged to be a cultist was effectively marked for death, one could not simply eradicate their members on sight without any prior consultation. It was the local church of order that would declare, following a judgement by the goddess herself, if an eccentric religious organisation could truly be described as a cult.


    Her ordinance was a strict requirement. With so many gods and celestials already in existence and their numbers trending upward with time, one could not simply assume that every new target of worship existed to be scorned. Moreover, there existed many local gods, especially in areas where contact with the outside world was limited. Said gods were often powerful and benevolent individuals under whose protection the frontier towns and villages lived. Meltys was one such example. The system did not acknowledge her as a true deity, but her people believed, and the faith they held in their hearts provided her with far more power than an individual of her status would have otherwise possessed. Such characters were typically accepted and described by Flitzegarde¡¯s adherents as holy beasts based in local tradition. In many cases, continued contact with the worshippers would eventually lead to their integration into the pantheon, perhaps as a servant of another existing god. Assuming that the individual in question was powerful enough, of course.


    Likewise, worshippers of false idols were not always discredited. It was strictly religious scams and the reverence of the dark gods that drew the cat goddess¡¯ ire, hence why some organisations, like the Saints¡¯ Collective and the Church of Ears were able to avoid the label.


    The group south of Abelsville, however, had been explicitly decried by the holy enforcer. A quick investigation on the church¡¯s part had revealed no deities worth noting. The idol in question, whose form was forged of pure gold, was crafted from the funds pilfered by the area¡¯s already poor citizens and further used to entice them into making greater contributions. In other words, it was a scam run by a local con artist that had gotten in over his head. Hence the call to adventure.


    That was what Flitzegarde¡¯s people had unearthed, at least. But with a party of adventurers missing, it was difficult to determine the accuracy of their judgement.


    ¡°If I¡¯m lucky, we might run into something worth fighting,¡± said Claire. If left alone for long enough, the object that a cult worshipped would accrue enough divinity to come to life. There was the occasional positive outcome, but it was more typically a vicious monster that would result. It was largely believed to be the purity of the prayers that determined the precise outcome. And because they were often driven by the malicious and manipulative, the life birthed from the cultists¡¯ faith was typically far from prim and proper.


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    Knowledge of the process and its outcome was not particularly widespread. The gods generally kept it to themselves, looping in only celestials responsible enough to handle it. As to who had judged that Alfred was a reliable enough individual, Claire hadn¡¯t the slightest clue or understanding. But the end result was that his knowledge had been passed onto her. He had phrased it lightly, roughly presenting the idea to her as it was, but she knew better than to take it at face value. It was a warning. Flitzegarde would not hesitate to order her elimination if she stepped too far out of line and misguided the lost lambs that awaited her direction¡ªnot that she was looking to interfere with their business in the first place.


    The only thing she knew about Carter¡¯s group was that it had made its way back up to Cadria. And that it had accidentally informed her father of her location. And that it was led by a bunch of idiots.


    ¡°Yeah, right,¡± giggled Sylvia. ¡°Melly was only so strong ¡®cause that thingy her people pass down has been getting worshipped for thousands of years. You¡¯ll probably flatten whatever¡¯s caused this whole mess in a heartbeat.¡±


    ¡°Probably,¡± said Claire, with a frown. ¡°We should probably leave soon, shouldn¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°Mhm,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Did you end up deciding where we¡¯re gonna be going?¡±


    ¡°I was thinking south.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ So Primrose¡¯s part of the forest? I dunno if there¡¯s gonna be anything for you to fight there. She probably keeps it all tidy n stuff.¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°I meant further south. Where the erdbrechers came from.¡±


    ¡°Oh! You mean the desert?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°That actually sounds like it could be really fun,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Who knows what kinda stuff we¡¯ll find buried under the sand.¡±


    ¡°Monsters, probably,¡± said Claire. ¡°Maybe a few dungeons if we¡¯re lucky.¡±


    ¡°Or the ruins of some sort of ancient civilization,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I can hardly wait! When are we leaving?¡±


    Claire paused for a moment to think. ¡°I was thinking next week, but it depends. We¡¯ll have to talk to the others about it when we get home.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess you¡¯re right.¡± Sylvia smiled. ¡°Lia¡¯ll throw a fit if we just vanish overnight.¡±


    Their destination appeared on the horizon as Claire contemplated the specifics. She magnified it with her eyes, seeing through the trees en route and into the settlement, only to breathe a tired sigh. Somewhat confused, Sylvia followed her gaze to find a village bustling with festive joy. There were about a hundred people gathered in the town square, singing and dancing, drunk out of their minds in the middle of the day.


    It didn¡¯t take long to find the missing adventurers. They were at the group¡¯s center and livening up the party with their hearty cackles.


    Though completely inebriated, their scout¡ªa giant ground squirrel with a ribbon tied to her head¡ªsoon perked up and waved at the incoming pair. Her face was a slovenly grin, no doubt due to the empty barrel sitting next to her. The villagers panicked when they followed her gaze, but her party¡¯s members, a pair of sea otters and a three-legged walrus, calmed them down in time for the qiligon¡¯s landing.


    ¡°Hey guys!¡± hicced the rodent. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°Checking on you idiots,¡± Claire grumbled as she shrank down to her humanoid form. ¡°You were presumed dead.¡±


    ¡°The hell, Roger?¡± said one otter to the other, ¡°I told you to file a report!¡±


    ¡°I did! I sent it off right when we finished. Maybe it was lost in transit or something.¡±


    Claire sighed. ¡°And what, exactly, are you still doing here in the first place?¡±


    ¡°Partying, duh,¡± said Roger. ¡°We¡¯ve been celebrating ever since we put down those cultists.¡±


    ¡°And how long ago was that?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know, it¡¯s been a bit of a blur.¡± The otter cracked a grin. ¡°But the villagers here have got some damn good drink, bought it for real cheap from a wandering merchant, apparently.¡±


    ¡°You should try some,¡± said the squirrel. ¡°It¡¯s some real good stuff.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not,¡± said Claire.


    Shooting a glance at the barrel, Claire found it marked with the Merdle company¡¯s stamp. That very same imprint labelled it as a lightly distilled, lower grade version of a familiar product. Because its 7% alcohol by volume rating was far less than the 85% required to be legally described as vekratt, the aged hay liquor was sold as velvesett instead. Alcohol concentration aside, it was effectively identical. Both liquors were crafted from the same raw materials and aged in the same cherrywood barrels. She hadn¡¯t any clue as to its price on the market, but it was the sort of product that even the lesser nobility would have been ashamed to serve. Still, it was a Cadrian import¡ªa product that had come from a thousand miles away. Its mere presence proved Pollux¡¯s success. His economic outreach was extending her father¡¯s influence across the land.


    ¡°Aw, come on. Don¡¯t be such a spoilsport.¡± The walrus, who spoke with all the gusto of a drunk middle-aged man, pushed a mug in her direction. ¡°I know you¡¯re uptight, but no one¡¯s gonna notice if you sneak a pint or two.¡±


    ¡°Sylvia will,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s not like she¡¯s gonna report you. Look, she¡¯s already drinking.¡±


    Surely enough, following one of the blubbery swimmer¡¯s flippers revealed a fox with her face buried in a freshly opened barrel. She only raised her head to lick the spillage off her lips before returning to the filling of her infinite void.


    ¡°I can see that.¡± The lyrkress brought her hand to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°She¡¯s going to be in a lot of trouble when we get back.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on!¡± cried the furball with a barrel for a face. ¡°It¡¯s not like I can get drunk anyway. It¡¯s totally free! And pretty tasty.¡±


    ¡°See?¡± said the ground squirrel.


    ¡°That was a blatant lie.¡± Claire plucked her furry friend out of her container and played with her cheeks. ¡°Remember what you did to Gulfweed Reef the last time you were allowed to drink?¡±


    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± Sylvia averted her eyes. ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°You just had three times the amount you had last time,¡± muttered Claire, as she looked between the orange rodent and the empty container.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay! I¡¯m fine!¡± She giggled as she slipped out of Claire¡¯s hands and warped onto her head, where she plopped down on her stomach in her tiniest form. "I can just sleep it off whenever I want.¡± She buried her face deep into the lyrkress hair, rubbing her cheeks against its silky strands. She rolled around for a little, purring and yawning before suddenly rising to her feet. ¡°Claire. I think we have a problem. I can¡¯t find the tracker I put on Lia anymore.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what happens when you empty a barrel three times your height.¡±


    Sylvia shook her head, her eyes clear as day. ¡°We need to go.¡± She clapped her paws, but the resulting portal fizzed out in the blink of an eye. Furrowing her brow, she tried and failed again.


    The vectors had refused to distort.


    Something was getting in her way. Preventing their teleportation.


    Claire¡¯s eyes narrowed. Throwing the furball onto her head, she assumed her true form and shot through the sky. Only there, above the clouds, did the portal finally function, with all the pieces falling into place as they gazed upon the other side.


    Everything that they had spent the past month and a half building had been completely destroyed. The shop was almost unrecognizable. Its ceiling was half collapsed and the walls were shredded and burned. There were bloody hoofprints all around the entrance and crimson puddles still spreading from the wreck.


    Even the sign had been battered, thrown onto the ground and stomped a thousand times.


    There were people gathered all around, curiously inspecting the scene and whispering wild rumours.


    But Claire heard none.


    Her eyes were too busy for her other senses to function.


    Fixated on the corpses that lay within.

 Chapter 290 - Prelude of Storm VII

    Chapter 290 - Prelude of Storm VII


    Natalya fought back the urge to yawn as she sat at the front desk. It was a slow hour on an already slow day. The lunchtime rush was over, her classes had adjourned, and there would be another hour before the job-takers returned. The only customers present were drinking or browsing the aisles¡ªan elderly couple having an early dinner, a fresh student in search of supplies, and a pair of fools too inebriated to work¡ªfive people in all.


    On another day, she likely would have been engaged in crafting some lesson or other, but there wasn¡¯t much else left to plan. She was ready to teach every active course from start to end, even with her students¡¯ particularities considered, and she couldn¡¯t put any more on offer with her abilities alone. There was simply nothing to do but sit at the front desk and idle her time away.


    She wasn¡¯t alone in her boredom. Nymphetel had her head facedown in her arms, while Charlotte had retreated back into her core. Even Garm was passed out, his feet up on the kitchen counter and his eyes covered with a crossboned hat. Estelle was the only other person not in the midst of a nap, albeit only because it was too early for her to have risen. In other words, no one but Natalya was awake. And no one but Natalya noticed when the door swung open.


    The man who entered was so tall that he barely fit through its frame. His horse-like body was not quite conducive to browsing the shelves, and it came as no surprise that he headed straight for the counter.


    ¡°Good afternoon,¡± the centaur greeted the cat with a practiced fake smile, ¡°are you the owner of this establishment?¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± said Natalya. ¡°How may I help you today?¡± Her expression was just as strained. She still wasn¡¯t quite comfortable around Cadrians, and the pompous horse looked anything but friendly.


    ¡°Perfect. It just so happens that I have a warrant for the search of this shop.¡± He produced a document from the bag he had around his shoulder. ¡°And I believe it states that we are free to seek out any criminals that may be taking refuge at this location.¡±


    Natalya adjusted her glasses as she inspected the document. ¡°Sorry, but this isn¡¯t valid. The only signature on it belongs to Lord Pollux. This shop effectively belongs to Her Majesty the Queen, and you¡¯ll need approval from a relevant Vel¡¯khanese authority to conduct your search,¡± said Natalya. She spoke calmly but raised her voice just enough to awaken the others.


    Nymphetel was the first to stir. She reached for her weapon as soon as she saw the centaur, the drowsiness vanishing from her face in the blink of an eye.


    ¡°Please leave,¡± said the catgirl.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t.¡± The horse-man glanced at his target. ¡°Now hand her over. You don¡¯t want to do this the hard way.¡±


    He reached over his shoulder, but a plate shattered his fingers before he could grab ahold of his spear. Garm practically flew across the shop, bouncing off the tables and shelves as a feral roar escaped his throat. The centaur sidestepped the pounce, only to be caught by a lariat to the gut. His spine shattered with a sickening crack; a non-Cadrian would likely have found himself disabled for hours, or perhaps even murdered outright, but the fearless warrior grabbed his hips and violently shoved them back into place. Another moment, and he was back to normal, the dent in his armour the only evidence of the wound he suffered.


    Of course, Garm did not simply sit around while the horse regenerated. He climbed atop his back and grabbed hold of his neck, locking it between his forearm and his massive, rippling bicep. In theory, it was an effective means of attack. Depriving his brain of oxygen would render him unconscious and end the cycle of healing, but the warrior was not so foolish as to fall for his ploy.


    He drew the sword from his waist and stabbed himself through the stomach. The blade emerged out the other side, piercing horse and cat alike. He twisted the blade, mauling both their organs before ripping it towards their shoulders and tearing a hole in both their bodies. For one of the two, the wound was easily regenerated, healed in an instant. But the other was not as resilient. He collapsed from his mounted position, falling to the ground as the strength drained from his rusty frame.


    His breathing was pained and ragged and his blood soon stained the floor.


    Even without a weapon, Garm should have had the upper hand. His level was almost twice the horse-man¡¯s, and the surprise attack should have given him the opportunity to seize the advantage. But there he was, half conscious with his foe out of reach. The gap between an outlaw and a knight.


    Natalya was not anywhere as inefficient, however. Her blade flashed through the air, removing the centaur¡¯s arms and legs before he could do any more harm. She wasn¡¯t planning on finishing him, but his head rolled nonetheless, removed by the dagger that had come through the open door.


    ¡°Oh my, oh my. Now whatever do we have here?¡± A group of three centaurs entered the shop. One was an aristocrat, dressed in a fancy suit, while the others were a pair of knights sure to obey his every word. ¡°Murdering a police officer in broad daylight? I do believe that is a felony, Ms. Vernelle.¡±


    Natalya gulped as the man slowly approached. He rested his hand on his chin, stroking his flaming, pencil-thin beard. His eyes were narrowed, curved the opposite way of his vulpine smile.


    ¡°Y-you were the one that finished him off.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to lie, Ms. Vernelle. Our witness caught you red-handed.¡±


    ¡°Witness?¡± Natalya furrowed her brow.


    ¡°Why, of course. Private Titus, would you mind?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir.¡±


    The head, which had at some point reattached to its body, rose and stood at attention, its arms in a fresh salute. ¡°I was present and on sight when a Cadrian soldier was attacked. She amputated all six of his limbs, and he was then subsequently decapitated before he could plead for his life.¡±


    ¡°There you have it,¡± said the marquis. ¡°Now, Ms. Vernelle. I believe that you and everyone else present will have to come with us.¡±


    Lia opened her mouth to speak, but the marquis continued before she could.


    ¡°Now, I know what you¡¯re thinking. This is bullshit, a farce, yada yada. And yes, you¡¯re right.¡± He got right up in her face, his lips a cruel smile. ¡°But answer me this. Let¡¯s say that, your dear friend the queen happens to stand up for you and condemn this as some sort of international crime. What do you think would happen? Who do you think would win, in a clash between Cadria and Vel¡¯khan?¡±


    The cat¡¯s face paled.


    ¡°There are witnesses,¡± she said.


    ¡°Certainly, our side has many.¡±


    He glanced towards the tiny pony following behind him, who nodded and swung her shieldlance. Eyes widening, Lia shouted at the customers to run, but it was far too late. The weapon¡¯s tip flew from its body, weaving through the store like a snake and executing everyone in its path.


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    The old couple was dead.


    Her student was slain.


    Not even the adventurers had been able to mount a defense.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you already know this by now, with our little princess treating this as her playground, but it is might that makes right.¡± Pollux¡¯s words were spoken in a whisper, a cold, sneering whisper. ¡°And the only thing that stands a chance at beating it is the proper use of a hostage. Now if you don¡¯t mind coming with me, I have a role for you to play.¡± He placed a hand on her shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You¡¯ll be reunited with all your friends soon. In my bed, of course.¡±


    Shuddering, she leapt out of the way just in time for a crimson flash to meet the centaur¡¯s waist. Nymphetel¡¯s blade struck true. It shredded his clothing and exposed his skin, but even the direct hit amounted to nothing. No wound. Not even a tiny cut. The sword had stopped perfectly where it had met the man.


    ¡°Oh, why hello, Nymphetel,¡± said the marquis, with a cordial smile. ¡°Finally decided to jump into my arms?¡±


    ¡°Hell no! Die, you deranged freak!¡± She dug her feet into the ground and twisted her hips as hard as she could. But the sword refused to budge.


    ¡°Well, I mean, I have been practically dying to finally see you.¡± Laughing, the centaur scooped the elf up before anyone could react and lightly brushed her hair aside. Nymn struggled, flailing her arms, but there was nothing she could do before the horse-man¡¯s raw power. ¡°Oh, so you were a man after all?¡± muttered the noble, as he brushed the knife-ear¡¯s body with his wings. ¡°Rather unfortunate, but I suppose I don¡¯t mind too much. Your face is the only thing that really mattered in the first place.¡±


    ¡°Let go of him!¡± The lich behind the counter shrieked as she fired a raw arcane blast at the centaur¡¯s face. But again, there was hardly a scratch.


    ¡°Hmmmmm¡­ You¡¯re not so bad, girl. Oh, and I mean your face, not your magic,¡± he said. ¡°Shame you don¡¯t have anything to penetrate.¡±


    ¡°Look at her like that again and I¡¯ll fucking kill you!¡± shouted Nymphetel.


    ¡°With what? Some sort of venereal disease?¡± laughed the horse. ¡°It¡¯s your best bet.¡±


    ¡°With my sword.¡±


    She vanished from the centaur¡¯s grasp, appearing again directly above his head with her weapon midswing. It was glowing with a crimson light¡ªan enhancement cast by the lich that amplified her power threefold. The marquis eyed it for a brief moment, only to break into a grin. His hand moved faster than the elf¡¯s blade, catching her by the wrist and smashing her into the ground.


    Both the knife-ear¡¯s arms were broken, and her spine likewise. But like the other Cadrian soldier, she shot to her feet without a moment¡¯s delay and launched her skull into his chin. She rattled his brain, attacking his one weakness. But he shrugged it off and kicked her in the gut. The force of the hoof blew her body to bits. It parted her legs from her upper half, which flew straight into the nearest wall. Her hands, likewise, were no longer attached, torn off when he tightened his fingers into a vice.


    ¡°Fausta,¡± ordered the marquis.


    ¡°On it.¡±


    The smaller soldier was on the elf before she could regenerate, pinning her to the ground with her two front hooves.


    Charlotte immediately targeted the pony with a powerful spell¡ªa bolt of red lightning backed by a hundred thousand points of magic¡ªbut a strum of the lyre saw it deflected. The other soldier played his weapon with his face a tired frown.


    The barrier lasted until he was split in half. Having finally retrieved her weapons from the auditorium, Lia closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Pollux was the only one to react, raising his brow and bringing a hand to his chin.


    Knowing his ability to regenerate, the already enraged berserker swung her weapons a thousand times, turning the soldier into a pile of scraps. She moved onto Fausta as soon as she was done. The pony¡¯s shieldlance repelled her longer blade, but the spinning rapier tore through her weapon and armour alike. The trick would have worked on her subordinate, but the veteran was not as easily slain. Grabbing her severed head out of the air, she reattached it to her neck and backstepped the following attack.


    She dodged another three blows before countering with her broken blade. The weapon was on point to meet the cat between the eyes, but Nymphetel, who had regenerated her arms, grabbed the horse¡¯s legs and yanked her off balance. Natalya twirled past the disrupted shieldlance and ran her longsword through the pony¡¯s gut. Her rapier followed suit, carving itself into the space between her eyes. And then, the two weapons traded places, ripping her cleanly in two.


    There was a feral, dying scream.


    But it was not the horse that perished.


    On the other side of the room was a lich with her core crushed, broken between the marquis¡¯ fingers. And between them, a bipedal lion with an arm sticking straight through his heart. He had thrown himself in the centaur¡¯s path in order to protect the mage. But his sacrifice had amounted to nothing.


    Both had met their ends.


    Nymphetel was on the other side of the room in a heartbeat. Even with no weapon in hand, she charged, roaring with the rage of a thousand. But she was easily subdued. The marquis threw her to the ground, applying pressure to her shoulders with his hooves and locking her in place.


    He didn¡¯t release her even as Lia charged. The marquis ignored her harmless longsword and focused his eyes on the other blade. He watched it carefully as it arced through the air. Its trajectory was clear, marked as the weapon was slow. And that was precisely why he was caught off guard by a sudden slash.


    A set of five lines crossed his chest, shredding his clothes and exposing his flesh.


    Claw marks.


    Cuts left by her disembodied blades.


    They were shallow, barely deep enough to draw blood, but they drew his attention for long enough that he failed to catch her rapier¡¯s acceleration. By twisting her body and pulling the sword with it, she forced Balyaev¡¯s Whistle to move at twice its previous speed. It dug into his collar and drilled through his flesh. It ran its full length, parting his arm from his shoulder and his shirt from his sleeve.


    But it was back by the time she blinked.


    Unrelenting, the cat continued with a flurry of wild blows, each faster and heavier than the last. The centaur began to evade as they dug deeper, sidestepping and ducking only her shorter sword.


    Her mind was clouded by rage. Every swing was backed by her seething hatred for Cadria and everything that its people stood for.


    But even as her class converted her emotions to strength, she slowly began to understand.


    She couldn¡¯t win.


    He was faster, stronger, and more durable. It was only by his indifference that she continued to live. He could capture her whenever he wanted and force her to obey his will, to use her as a tool in dragging her closest friends through the mud. In dragging Claire through the mud.


    There were any number of ways he could force her to obey. Anything was possible if she was forced to swear obedience. A power enacted by Flitzegarde that not even the fox could deny.


    She didn¡¯t know how Claire would react. But there was a chance that she would not prioritize herself¡ªthat she would fall into his trap. And knowing that terrified her. More than anything that would happen to herself.


    So she took a risk and prayed.


    She prayed for the god of lightning to take root in her body.


    Only to be met with a firm refusal.


    But where her god had abandoned her, another stepped into his place. Vella, the goddess of war, took the catgirl¡¯s hands between her fingers and offered the berserker her power.


    Lia¡¯s frame began to glow with a coral-pink light as her internals were fried. She could not handle the divine weaver¡¯s power. Everything from her muscles to her magic circuits to her nervous system was scarred by the resulting enchantment.


    She would never forge a rune again.


    She would never swing a sword again.


    She would never walk again.


    And her weapon was the same. Its tip was slowly eroding, giving way to the power that flowed through her frame.


    But for everything she lost, her next strike was empowered. Fueled by the might of an all-powerful god, it was more than capable of ending his life.


    It was a shame then that it never landed on target.


    His hand pierced her gut as soon as she lowered her blade, and with a sickening twist, emerged from her back.


    He clicked his tongue as she collapsed, a smile making its way to her lips as her holy aura dispersed, fizzling out like the final spark still left in her corpse.


    Her health was at zero.


    And he was still alive.


    But she had accomplished her goal.

 Chapter 291 - The Stirring Wind

    Chapter 291 - The Stirring Wind


    Claire silently gazed upon the scene laid out before her, the colour slowly draining from her world as she continued to stare. Her heart beat loudly in her chest, filling her ears with a constant, dull ringing that threatened to mute her mind.


    Her feet moved on their own, bringing her to her side. But her hands didn¡¯t dare to budge.


    She was too afraid.


    Afraid that her sense of touch would prove the reality her eyes had dared to claim.


    It was a warrior''s death, an honourable end, something that should have been celebrated and showered with praise.


    But Claire felt no joy, no inspiration, and no urge to better herself.


    In fact, she felt nothing. Or at least nothing whose name she knew.


    The only emotion that stirred in her chest was the dawning bitter cold of a snow-white mountain. She could feel her fingers trembling, her eyes blurring, her chest sinking deeper and deeper and deeper into the void.


    Her breath ran short. It was stuck in her throat, refusing to budge and make way for the welling scream.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    The only sound that eventually emerged was a whisper, a quiet ghost of a breath. And with the silence broke a heavy dam of emotion. The tides surged, threatening to crush her beneath their colossal weight.


    ¡°I should have known better.¡±


    It was her fault for allowing Nymphetel to remain. She should have spirited him away, warped him to another part of the world and left him to his own devices. She knew that Pollux wanted him, that with his fire lit and the end in sight, the old warlord would stop at nothing to achieve his goal.


    The attack was blatant, written on the wall with no sign of censure or deception. And yet, she had failed to prepare. In fact, she had done nothing but idle and enjoy the days as they passed.


    The peace had dulled her senses. Its continuation had remained an unquestioned fact in the back of her mind. And he had taken clear advantage. Their blood, her blood, was on her hands. And there was nothing she could do to wash them clean.


    Slowly, fearfully, she raised a trembling finger to the catgirl¡¯s face and brushed her hair out of her eyes.


    She was supposed to be numb to the cold.


    But she could feel her freezing skin, the missing warmth that once flowed through her veins.


    Her tears began to trickle. Slowly. One drop at a time. Wetting her hands. Deepening the colour of the blood that already stained her clothes.


    ¡°I did love you, Lia,¡± she said, quietly. ¡°Just not the way you wanted.¡± She pulled the catgirl into her arms, holding her tightly to her chest. A final embrace. ¡°You were like a sister to me. A dumb, older sister.¡±


    Setting her back down, she removed the catgirl¡¯s broken bandolier and laid it carefully by her side. Her belt was next. Claire tenderly unfastened its hooks and allowed her friend to breathe. Not that she would, or could, again.


    ¡°I still remember the night you realized who I was. I knew why you were crying back then. But I didn¡¯t really understand. Not until I saw the kindness you always showed.¡±


    A faint sniffle.


    ¡°You always put everyone else first even when it hurt you. I kept everything bottled up too. Because I was afraid to let it show. But you did it so that no one else would have to worry. And when push came to shove, you always faced your fears head-on, embracing them in a way that I never could.¡±


    She began to take off her clothes.


    One layer at a time, she folded the uniform¡¯s ruined pieces and laid them with the rest of her belongings. Her sword and her glasses were arranged as well, retrieved from across the broken room.


    With everything sorted, she pressed their foreheads together, brushed her lips with her fingers, and squeezed her hands.


    ¡°I¡¯m not strong enough to carry on your will. To do things the way that you would have done them.¡±


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    And then, finally, made a small incision on Natalya¡¯s body right in the center of her chest. From it, she retrieved a vital organ¡ª


    ¡°But I¡¯ll try. I¡¯ll try my best to be more like you. I¡¯ll try my best to show mercy and be kind. To love, to forgive, and to forget. To carry everything that you had in your heart. Forever as a part of mine.¡±


    ¡ªand raised it to her lips.


    A sickening sweetness spread across her forked tongue. It was cold and unbeating. But warm and gentle. And yet, bitter and painful. A flavour she would never forget. Just like her mother¡¯s.


    It was her fault that it was so difficult to swallow. For failing to give her closure. For thinking that it was better not to open up. For being so unbearably weak that she knowingly took advantage of her hurting friend¡¯s kindness.


    If their positions were switched, Lia surely would have stayed behind. She would have held her hands and stayed by her side until her tears had finally stopped.


    But Claire? She had only run away.


    ¡°But that will have to wait until I¡¯ve seen you avenged.¡±


    Another bite.


    And then another.


    And then a last.


    She was supposed to have grown stronger. That was what the ceremony claimed. But the freezing despair only continued to assault her.


    Unable to bear it, she assumed her true form and escaped into the sky with the cat between her jaws. She crunched and swallowed, taking every part of her into her body as she flew through the clouds. The colour didn¡¯t return. The world was still muted, its sounds converted to a single high pitch.


    But she forced herself to descend, to return to her humanoid form and put everything back into order.


    She started with the sign¡ªsalvaging what was left of the broken letters and placing them with the rest of the late cat¡¯s belongings.


    Claire felt something warm wrap itself around her as she thought to reclaim the corpses. A warmth that only blurred her already distorted world.


    Sylvia was crying too.


    Sylvia was shaking too.


    Sylvia was mourning too.


    She buried her face into the back of Claire¡¯s head. Comforting them both in her gentle embrace. Eventually, Claire turned around and found that not everything was black and white after all. There were only faint hints. The oranges of her hair and tail, the rosy hints in her skin, and the pumpkin shade that filled her eyes.


    Just enough colour to slowly dye her surroundings, spreading from the one source of warmth that still remained.


    ¡°Not everything¡¯s going to be able to go back to the way it was,¡± whispered Claire. ¡°But let¡¯s fix as much of it as we can.¡±


    The fox didn¡¯t say anything, but she nodded, peeling herself off the lyrkress¡¯ frame as she sang a heart-wrenching tune. The building¡¯s pieces floated back into place. The scratches and burn marks covering the walls were healed, the blood was scrubbed from the wooden floor, and the rubble was carefully rearranged. It was a simple task.


    But even then, it was imperfect. Every sniffle created a minor distortion, a tearstain upon her paradise lost.


    Claire¡¯s handiwork, the signboard, was just as messy. She had tried to piece the whole thing back together, but too many of its letters were broken or irrecoverable. The latter half was especially damaged, hoof-marked into disrepair. Perhaps to serve his own vanity, or perhaps to leave a calling card, Pollux had left only the fresh corporate text untouched.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to need a new name,¡± she muttered.


    Sylvia lowered her gaze to the scrambled letters. ¡°I can fix them.¡±


    But Claire shook her head. ¡°There¡¯s no point. It isn¡¯t going to be the same without her.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± The fox hung her head, another whimper escaping her throat as she brought her tail to her chest and hugged it.


    Biting her lips, Claire returned to her handiwork. After a few moments of deliberation, and smooshing a number of broken letters together, she floated the sign overhead and returned it to its place. Though many of the letters were formed from bits of others, she was able to at least provide a hint of its previous identity.


    She ventured back into the shop once that was done and retrieved the other corpses. They were laid down out front, protected by a bubble so that the flies would never reach them. She barely flinched as she gazed upon the familiar faces. It wasn¡¯t the same. Pollux had stolen their lives, just like he had stolen hers, but she almost didn¡¯t care, perking up only as she realised that it was not just Nymphetel that was missing from the crowd.


    ¡°Estelle managed to escape,¡± she muttered.


    There were no signs of struggle in the lab, nor any of her feathers on the scene. The siren had managed to flee. Somehow, learning that filled her with relief. Even though she had hardly expected to care.


    She inspected everything once more before grabbing Natalya¡¯s things and locking eyes with the fox.


    ¡°No more moping,¡± she said, more to herself than her companion. ¡°Let¡¯s go. We have a horse to kill.¡±


    The lyrkress grew out her wings and prepared to take off, but a pair of hands grabbed her by the wrist and tethered her to the ground. When she looked down, she found Sylvia shaking her head, her face as pale as a sheet.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to lose you too.¡± Completely overpowering Claire, she yanked her into her arms and held her tight. ¡°Please.¡±


    She was struck by a pang of guilt, but the lyrkress shook her head regardless. ¡°I have to make him pay.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s just going to kill you.¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°I have a plan.¡±


    It was a lie. At least until she saw the fox¡¯s face, she had planned to storm the castle, but she quickly pieced a scheme together as she considered his fate.


    Killing him wouldn¡¯t suffice. His life alone could never sate her rage.


    She would do to him as he did to her, make him feel her pain a thousand times over.


    She would take everything he had ever had.


    Even the things that were not entirely his own.

 Chapter 292 - The Rending Squall

    Chapter 292 - The Rending Squall


    Marquis Timaios Pollux hummed a cheerful tune as he basked in the warmth of his firelit office. Everything was going as planned. He had finally extended his reach into the Vel¡¯khanese underworld. Its key figures were on track to fall under his wings; they would soon lose the ability to resist his commands, even if and when he ordered them against the queen. In the meantime, he spread his corporate ¡®ideals,¡¯ polluting the minds of the public to favour efficiency and mass production over the tradition that they so dearly held. Give or take another five years, and the country would be his in all but name.


    Even better yet, he had accomplished a work-agnostic objective. Nymphetel Blackroot was his. But while the marquis had certainly enjoyed his fair share of elf, he was not quite done with the corresponding case. His eyes moved over the file, carefully scanning it for clues as the reporting officers stood at attention.


    ¡°Still no movements on the queen¡¯s end?¡±


    ¡°None,¡± said Fausta.


    ¡°Strange,¡± muttered the marquis. ¡°I would¡¯ve expected her to have done something or other by now.¡±


    He scanned his documents and confirmed his notes on the kraken¡¯s behaviour. He had her pegged as a foolish, emotional ruler¡ªno rational actor would have slain a whole cabinet of ministers without a force of competent loyalists to replace them, but she had butchered them outright. Even if vengeance was her goal, her plans were poorly conceived. It would have been far more efficient to enslave the men into doing her bidding.


    According to his calculations, she should have attacked as soon as she heard the news. But there was nothing, not even the slightest hint of action in the week that followed her friend¡¯s demise.


    ¡°Continue keeping an eye on her in either case.¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    He didn¡¯t believe for a moment that she had grown wiser. She was undoubtedly scheming, plotting his downfall in some way or other. But the centaur didn¡¯t care. He was confident that his ploys would win.


    Admittedly, there were some holes in his plans. His most trusted men were still back home in Tornatus, and it would take a full month for them to reach Vel¡¯khan if ordered, though that number was closer to a week if he only counted those that would fit on his remaining ships. Even so, his hand was far better than hers. The Vel¡¯khanese queen had only three notable cards to play, none of which could shake his iron grip.


    ¡°Have you found the princess?¡± The question was directed to the other officer, a larger stallion half quivering in his boots.


    ¡°Unfortunately, sir, I have not.¡± The major lowered his head and prepared for a violent tongue-lashing. He had been hard at work since he was given the assignment, but he had failed to produce any results. It was like his target had vanished into thin air, with the freshly repaired MACC the only evidence that she had returned to the city at all.


    ¡°Unfortunate, but I wouldn¡¯t be too worried.¡± His boss, however, refrained from rebuking him, only nodding nonchalantly as he tapped a finger against his desk.


    Pollux only considered her a middling threat. He was not conducting his search out of concern, but rather as a point of personal interest.


    Though he had readily bluffed otherwise, he would not dare to lay his hands on his master¡¯s daughter. Such an act would surely be a betrayal of the king¡¯s trust, and perhaps even viewed as a play for power of which he had no desire. He did want her under his thumb at the negotiating table, however. To turn one of Arciel¡¯s own against her would no doubt have been a crushing blow.


    That was why it was a shame that he had lost the opportunity to capture her friend, and on account of his own entertainment to say the least. He recognized, in retrospect, that his capture target had become a threat precisely because he had egged her on. Alas, his choice was made and his fun was had.


    It wasn¡¯t the first time his selfishness had set him back a few years and it would hardly be the last, but he wasn¡¯t concerned. He would live for another five thousand, likely more if he slowly worked his way towards his fourth ascension.


    ¡°Should I continue searching, sir?¡± asked the soldier.


    ¡°Yes. Have some of the men go further south. It¡¯s possible that she might have fled.¡± He stroked his tiny beard.


    ¡°By your will.¡± The knight¡ªFausta¡¯s second, formerly third in command¡ªbreathed a sigh of relief, only for his breath to halt in his throat as the marquis snapped his fingers.


    ¡°Ah, yes, that¡¯s right. I told the artificers to craft a scryer¡¯s orb. They should be done by now. Pick it up, won¡¯t you? It¡¯ll help you in your endeavours.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for your consideration, sir. I will return to my duties posthaste.¡± Saluting, the overworked scout scuttled out the door as quickly as he horsedly could.


    ¡°Good.¡± the warlord nodded. ¡°You¡¯re dismissed as well, Fausta. Could you do me a favour and fetch Armando on your way out?¡±


    ¡°Got it, boss,¡± she said. She pushed open the doors and, after casually waving in his direction, vanished into the hall.


    Pollux chuckled at the brutish behaviour as he closed his eyes and entrusted his weight to his desk. His butler appeared to be taking his sweet time, so he reluctantly dragged a lukewarm cup to his lips and sipped away at its contents. It wasn¡¯t bad; the quality of the tea was high enough to ensure its flavour, but he would have preferred it with another few dozen degrees.


    He did understand, of course. Armando was often busy managing the various happenings around the manor, but it was unlike the man to leave his master completely unattended. He usually sent another butler if he was in the middle of something important. Timaios would have much preferred a maid, but unfortunately, his wife had forbidden the luxury.


    Even without Armando¡¯s explicit instruction, the butlers were scheduled to visit and check on him once every few minutes. But there was no one. Not even by the time he finally finished his cup¡ªa curious set of circumstances that he was not foolish enough to ignore.


    Furrowing his brow, he slowly rose from his seat and moved towards the balcony, but even with its lock undone, the door refused to open. The behaviour was shared by every single one of the room¡¯s possible exits. The windows were unmoving and the walls were reinforced to prevent his departure.


    There was nothing he could do, so he returned to his seat and settled down in his chair, waiting for his prey to come. He was so relaxed, in fact, that he even fell asleep. He had a pleasant dream, recalling the time he had spent as a child oh so many years ago, the embrace of the mother whose face he had long forgotten, and even the spark that ignited his warrior¡¯s spirit. But even with his mind numbed by nostalgic bliss, he never once let down his guard. He woke as soon as he heard the clacking of feet, the sound of a pair of high heels against the marble floor.


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    When the door finally creaked open, he saw exactly the person he had expected. She was adorned in a flowing red dress. Whether it was originally that colour, it was impossible to determine. The halfbreed was plastered in the blood of his men; everything from her fair skin to her obscenely large ears to her once-glimmering scales was completely covered in a gloopy layer of gore.


    She came with a partner in tow. The fox was sitting on her head, somehow coated in much less viscera.


    ¡°Good evening, Lord Pollux.¡± She spoke with all the innocence of a prancing fawn. Her face was a soft, sweet smile, carved to such perfection that he couldn¡¯t see it as anything but genuine, even in spite of the circumstances at hand.


    ¡°Good evening, Princess.¡±


    He met her bluff with a grin that put all his jagged teeth on open display. He couldn¡¯t stop the chuckle from leaking from his lips. By his calculations, Fausta should have easily been able to suppress her. The catgirl was the only challenge to the lieutenant¡¯s authority. And even then, it was just because of her sword.


    ¡°To what do I owe the pleasure?¡±


    And yet, there the NCO was, held as a severed head in the halfbreed¡¯s icy grip¡ªproof that Virillius¡¯ blood ran strongly through her veins.


    ¡°Oh, to think that you would be so cruel.¡± Dropping the dead soldier¡¯s skull, Claire brought both her hands to her cheeks and cupped them, her face flushing scarlet. ¡°I simply wished to see you.¡±


    ¡°I would much rather we skip the farce and get down to business.¡± He leaned forward in his seat with a chuckle. ¡°Your father might¡¯ve been able to kill me at that level. But you? You won¡¯t even come close.¡±


    She only smiled, so he nonchalantly continued.


    ¡°In the end, it all comes down to basic math. I regenerate more quickly than you can harm me. I could sit here and go right back to sleep if I wanted. You¡¯d still never kill me.¡± He could already tell that he was about to go overboard again, that his bad habit was making itself known, but he continued to speak until he felt a sudden chill.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so sure.¡±


    A block of ice formed around him in the blink of an eye, encasing everything from his neck down. His sides shaking with laughter, he flexed his muscles against the fetters, but strangely, the glimmering blue cage refused to shatter.


    ¡°It¡¯s true ice,¡± she said. ¡°It can¡¯t be broken.¡±


    The marquis cocked a brow. He knew what she meant, but he doubted that the lady could have acquired such a thing for herself. It wasn¡¯t just a matter of rarity, nor even affinity. Elemental power sources rejected beings of flesh and blood. Their adverse effects were barely noticeable at first, but they worsened with each passing day, eventually killing any mortal that dared to draw upon their power. That was why people created weapons and artifacts to contain them.


    She was a fool, a fool deluded by her own deception.


    ¡°It hardly makes a difference,¡± he said with a grin. ¡°You¡¯re still too weak to kill me.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t wrong. The thunderhoof was a pioneer in the field of active combat regeneration and the progenitor of the widespread vitality-centric build that so many Cadrian elites employed. Inflicting damage was pointless. The only way to kill him for good was to deal a single blow that could eclipse his maximum health. And with his defensive stats as high as they were, such a telling strike lay far beyond the realm of her abilities.


    Even presuming that her absurd claim was true, fully encasing him in ice would only seal him temporarily. The suffocation meant nothing; he could easily heal the resulting damage to his brain before it could accumulate in any which way. Eventually, he would outlast his prison.


    He was right. The math checked out, and it ruled in his favour.


    But that was why she had taken her time.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to die to suffer.¡±


    The entire manor, the entire fortress, was destroyed as she waved her hand. The walls, the gardens, the people, everything was dismantled by her magic and thrown out to sea. Even the soil was stripped, leaving only the rocky foundation that was the manor¡¯s floating base.


    Once its excess weight was shed, Claire applied her spells to the battleship itself and raised it beyond all its rated limits.


    Fifty thousand metres above the sea, they sat at the stratosphere¡¯s outer edge. The sun shone over the horizon, clearly illuminating their faces, but their breaths were white, cold as a winter¡¯s day.


    ¡°Behold, scum.¡± A pair of icy horns sprouted from her head. ¡°Beyond the northern sky lies the most technologically advanced marsh on this continent.¡±


    He followed the tip of her finger and looked beyond the firmament, at the lights that lay beyond.


    Their homeland stood out from the rest of the world. While everything else was dark, with the closer settlements¡¯ firelights only barely visible, the Cadrian cities were shimmering blurs off in the distance. Each dotted the sky around it with colour, vague hints of blue that almost seemed to rebel against the natural order enforced by the moon and the stars.


    The closest of the domains was practically a beacon. Its lights were particularly powerful, cutting through the night in a manner reminiscent of a line of fire. Like a jewel atop a clump of mud, the marquis¡¯ domain, the home of Cadria¡¯s artificers, and the forge where its magical fortresses were crafted, was impossible to miss.


    ¡°For hundreds of years, it has stood as a symbol of Cadrian power, a centre for the artisans and their successors.¡± She raised a second hand and pointed it towards the moon. Or more accurately, towards a distant speck illuminated by its light. ¡°It has always stood as your pride and joy. But tonight, no more.¡±


    The marquis was confused at first, but then the speck grew larger. One centimeter at a time, it slowly expanded until its shape was finally clear. It was an icy sword, an orbital blade stored beyond the heavens, ready to pierce the world.


    He continued staring at it, seemingly dumbfounded, until he broke into a fit of laughter. ¡°Your plan was a kinetic weapon?¡± Another cackle. ¡°Have you truly fallen so low, princess, that you¡¯ve forgotten your own identity? We are Cadrians. We are kinetic weapons. Every last soldier has a resistance hammered into their bodies by the time they¡¯re through basic training. At most, you¡¯ll kill some unlucky staff, or perhaps a few recruits. No real soldier would die to anything so trivially pathetic.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Claire returned a smile as she retrieved a vial from the hem of her dress, ¡°as am I now, it would amount to nothing,¡± and downed its eerie, aureate contents in a single pained breath.


    It burned her throat going down, scorching her veins and circuits as it spread through her body like a vicious, deadly poison. Her breath was stuck in her throat. Her eyes turned golden. Cracks formed in her skin where her mana lines were most prominent, their exaggerated forms etched like a runic tattoo.


    Her eyes and circuits flickered, cycling between eerie shades of red and gold. Her very presence threatened to swallow him. The raw magic was so intense that it eroded her body, slowly disintegrating her flesh and blood. It was a familiar state, much like the one he had seen in the catgirl before her death, only the rampant divine energy weighed down upon him even without the presence of a god.


    ¡°I will destroy everything that you have built, cleanse every spawn that you have sired, and kill everyone, everyone, that has ever aided in your efforts.¡±


    The marquis furrowed his brows; it took him a moment to make sense of her absurd claim. ¡°You would slaughter your own citizens for their political ties?¡±


    ¡°You thought nothing of the individual lives you took. Why care for them in aggregate?¡± The words were practically spat at him, spoken in a dark hiss.


    ¡°You are threatening our people, our technologies!¡± he shouted. ¡°That is hardly comparable to a murder of some Paunsean deserter!¡±


    ¡°That ¡®deserter¡¯ was one of the only people to have ever loved me.¡± He half expected her to fly into a rage, but her words were quiet, calm even. ¡°One of the only people to see and accept me for who I am. One of the only people to understand the things I left unsaid.¡± She clenched her fists, but they soon relaxed, returning to a more neutral state. ¡°But I do find it strange, Pollux, that you would condemn me for murder.¡± The final note rang with a hint of amusement, ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be worshipping me? Idolizing me? Isn¡¯t this proof beyond all else, of the blood that runs through my veins?¡±


    It was only then, as an empty, bitter sneer appeared on her lips, that the halfbreed invoked Griselda¡¯s name.


    And unleashed a spell that rent the world.

 Chapter 293 - The Bursting Sky

    Chapter 293 - The Bursting Sky


    The sky above Tornatus was always filled with clouds. It was not the climate that drove the phenomenon, but rather the industrious folk that called the city their home. Each of its seven hundred ateliers was constantly pumping smoke from its chimneys, with every last artificer working day and night to further his prowess and reputation.


    Such was life in the City of Progress. In other places, the people were derided for making slaves of themselves. And to some degree, it was not untrue. The city¡¯s denizens were always pushing their limits, working as hard as they could to chase their dreams, for the capital of the Pollux Marsh was nothing if not a paradise for the fiercely intelligent.


    Anyone could make it big, so long as their theories were correct and their hands stood up to par. There was no such thing as a brainless job involved with the industry. Janitors studied so that they would not accidentally ruin the work of others, suppliers emulated sensitive measuring techniques to provide materials exactly to spec, and even bards learned technical jargon so that they could sing thrilling tales of discovery and flaunt the minds that lay behind them.


    Gloria Lincoln was one such industry-adjacent individual. Working as a waitress at a cafe, she had initially only learned the various terms and theories so that she could sell gossip to the local broker. But that soon changed as she was swept up by the city¡¯s zeitgeist and impassioned by her studies. Every night, she returned home just to pore over the most recent books, articles, and papers. She often studied late into the wee hours, drinking mandrake extract to stay awake instead of allowing her body to rest.


    It was not at all the lifestyle she had expected when she first moved to the city. Being the most beautiful young lady in her hometown, Gloria had left the nest under the assumption that she would easily find a well-off husband. Alas, reality was not so kind. Back home, the average woman would bear roughly a hundred children in her life; she would have a litter of three or four every other year, with older groups helping to raise younger ones until they were ready to have families of their own. Tornatus, however, saw the ratio nearly flipped on its head. There was an average of one birth for every seventy-two women; only eccentrics had any time to waste on such pointless biological endeavours.


    At first, Gloria had found the concept appalling. There were many cottontails among the city¡¯s faces. Like her, they should have been stricken by an uncontrollable sex drive each time the mating season struck at the end of the week. And yet, it had only taken a month for her to find herself sucked into the city¡¯s fervour, for her entire salary to vanish into hardware and tools, and for an artificer¡¯s certification to fall soundly into her lap.


    In the two years that followed, she acquired a doctorate in applied circuitry, as well as a tier eight rating on the dexterity of her paws. Just one more licensing exam would open up the opportunity to seek employment at a high-end workshop, but she was yet undecided on whether she would jump the gun. The waitress-turned-scholar was not particularly fond of any of the three main schools of thought. The Clearminds were too traditionalist. They believed only in the lowest level of operation and refused to abstract their circuits, claiming that the logical processes were only slowed by the overhead baggage. Their resulting products were easy to follow, but almost impossible to read. Even if the flow could be traced, it made no sense for one looking to get a bigger picture of the part¡¯s function at a glance, though it could eventually be deduced with enough time and effort.


    Standing at the exact opposite end of the spectrum were the Syllogifaiths, who based their advancements on that of their peers without any concern for the inner workings. They were known for haphazardly sticking other people¡¯s circuits in their modules so long as they provided the correct results in enough of their tested scenarios. Their work had the exact opposite problem. It was easy to tell what a part was meant to do at a glance, but it was almost impossible to troubleshoot if anything went wrong. It was always a struggle to determine exactly which of the countless parts used was not quite functioning to spec.


    Finally, there were the Freethinkers. While they did occasionally leverage the strengths of the other two groups, it was largely not in their combination that they were based, but rather the invention of radical new approaches and techniques.


    Each school had its undeniable strengths. The Clearminds¡¯ products were most often used in military applications, thanks to their reliability, while the Syllogifaiths¡¯ drew the most attention. Their goods were in a constant cycle of innovation, with every new product applying the last in some creative way or other. The biggest jumps in technological advancement were guided by the Freethinkers¡¯ theories, however, as it was they who drove the principles used in the other groups¡¯ applications.


    Even with all three options laid out before her, however, Gloria was uninspired. A part of her wanted to open up her own workshop and chase her own school of thought¡ªas the god of the inner flame had ordained upon gifting his blessing¡ªbut she was still far from the requisite level of skill or knowledge. She had a few ideas loitering around in her back pocket, but there was no way for her to produce an innovation potent enough to cover the cost of such an expensive investment.


    Moreover, she had yet to give up entirely on her dream of marrying into wealth. The chance was still non-zero, and seeing so many faces going in and out of the bar, she could say with confidence that she was one of the prettiest young ladies around. Unlike the overworked researchers, she had time to take care of her grooming. The fur coat that covered her meter-tall body was pristine and without any tangles or knots, and her rabbit ears were more shapely than most others of their kind; the midsections were thin enough that she was at least somewhat confident in her ability to appeal to a potential centaurian mate.


    It was precisely to find such a gentleman that she greeted each and every tired researcher that made his way through the door, smiling and waving, and attaching herself to the arms of those short enough as she guided them to their tables.


    But as usual, a full day of effort yielded no results. She was greeted with no proposals¡ªthough one researcher had invited her to work at his lab, after they shared an extended conversation on the hereditary nature of magic circuits.


    And it was with his business card in her paws that she ended her shift and ventured out into the streets.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Lori,¡± she said to herself, ¡°there¡¯s always tomorrow.¡±


    Squeezing the card tight, she tucked it away in her pocket and looked up at the sky, where the moon was shining brightly through the clouds.


    For a moment, she thought nothing of it¡ªsuch sights were common where she grew up, after all¡ªbut she soon recalled her location and the oddity therein.


    ¡°Is it the summer solstice already?¡±


    There were only two occasions during which the city¡¯s workshops would shut down all at once. The Marquis himself had mandated the law after seeing the exhaustion that plagued his people, and ordered that there was to be no artificing done during either annual celebration. The date, however, did not check out. Her tier nine dexterity exam was to be conducted two weeks before the Day of Atonement, and that was still a fair ways off.


    Though it was certainly a strange phenomenon, she thought nothing of it until she approached her home near the edge of town. She was not so poor that she had to live right next to the wall, but with her finances dumped into books and tools, she was at least close enough to pick up on the commotion by the gate. And she was not the only one. There were a number of open windows with curious onlookers sticking out their heads and turning their eyes on the city¡¯s walls. The crowd by the entrance was growing by the moment, with large swaths of people gathered on both sides.


    It was certainly an uncommon event, but not so far out of the ordinary that she felt the need to stop and look. The bipedal rabbit went home instead, burying her face in her books until a voice rang clearly through her head. It began as a wordless song, beautiful, sombre notes that for some unknown reason drew tears from her eyes. She could tell, even before the words were formed, that the song¡¯s grief was something the singer had felt and weaved.


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    ¡°Greetings, people of Tornatus. The time for judgment has come.¡±


    A spectre formed in front of her, bearing the form of a shadowy, humanoid figure with a pair of massive ears and a sinister grin as dark as the night. A demonic beast sat on top of its head, a distorted four-legged creature with a massive gaping maw. Gloria screamed reflexively, nearly jumping out of her seat. Similar cries could be heard all around, filling the girls¡¯ dorm with cries of terror.


    ¡°And you have been sentenced to death.¡±


    Gloria scanned her desk in a hurry and grabbed the first weapon she could find. She pointed it in the intruder¡¯s direction as quickly as she could, but the person in question was missing. Looking around the room confirmed the thought¡ªboth the foul beast and the voice were gone. She pressed a hand to her chest and collapsed in her chair with a tired sigh. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths as she reasoned that stress was the cause of her confusion.


    But then, when she beheld the world again, it was right there in her face. Upside down, smiling, smirking, reaching for her neck.


    Another scream escaped her throat as she sprang from her chair and flew out the window. Her heart was beating like a drum, only accelerating as she realised that they were as many as the stars in the sky.


    ¡°We have been wronged.¡±


    The shadowy figures wandered the streets, giggling, cackling, running about as they basked in the chaos that ensued. Only those that ran were allowed to live. Everyone that stood their ground was slain, easily consumed by the jagged teeth that lined the creatures¡¯ smiling jaws.


    But then, all of a sudden, they stopped, opening their mouths as another set of words rang through her ears.


    ¡°It was your lord that committed the crime. And all of you that will pay the price.¡±


    A commotion spread throughout the city. Some screamed a lack of fairness, declaring that they had no hand or knowledge in the schemes the voice described, while others were simply panicked, unable to process the events as they were.


    ¡°It is only the faithful who shall be granted a chance at salvation. Those of you who know our forms are free to pierce the veil placed around the city, and to take with you the lambs who you believe should be spared the sword of judgement.¡±


    The confusion only grew. People began discussing the circumstances, with most, Gloria included, concluding that it was simply some sort of enemy attack. The voice, they reasoned, most likely belonged to a bard¡ªthere was a broadcast skill that would serve the function so long as one had the wisdom to overwhelm the target¡¯s magical defenses.


    ¡°Behold, raise your eyes and repent before the heavens descend and deny your chance at redemption.¡±


    It began with just a small handful of people. Only those gullible enough to blindly believe the voice¡¯s claims looked towards the sky, and even fewer among them picked out the glowing speck from the wayward stars that littered the cosmos. But there it was, glimmering brightly in the celestial sea, changing, warping with every tick and tock.


    People began pointing at it before long, detailing its existence to the non-believers and assuring them of their mistake. When Gloria was finally made aware of the object, she immediately returned to her room and examined it with one of the handheld magnifiers she had made for practice. The first thing she noted was its size and structure. It was a massive, crystalline object with a faint purple shade that made it difficult to spot amongst the stars. At a glance, it looked like a malformed arrow. The blade was circular, like a lance, with spiralled, sharpened edges growing out of the side of its tip. It could have easily served as a harpoon, had its shaft not been only a tenth of its total length. And it was spinning towards them, flying directly toward the city.


    She immediately ran for the gates after noting its rate of acceleration. She didn¡¯t know how far her legs could carry her, being as weak as they were, but at the very least, she knew she needed to run. Grabbing her tool belt, as well as a few other choice objects, she dashed downstairs and out the door.


    When she arrived at the city¡¯s outer wall, she fired a hook that allowed her to scale it. She climbed right over the top as soon as she was in range and leapt off the other side. A tiny hand glider only a few centimeters wider than her paw served as a parachute that carried her beyond. But soon, like everyone gathered on the ground beneath her, she crashed headfirst into an invisible wall.


    She tried firing her hook shot again. The rope contained within it was an artifact in its own right, capable of stretching as long as it needed, whereas the hook could track the top of any object, magical, physical, or otherwise. But there appeared to be no such end.


    The rope went on for almost a minute before the tool drained its battery and died in her hands.


    Gulping, the budding artificer spun around and looked towards the sky again. The sword had already grown to the point where its shape was discernible to the naked eye.


    It was already on the verge of eclipsing the moon, and it was only growing even larger yet.


    Gloria twisted her face into a grimace. She returned to the wall posthaste and immediately dug a hole near its base. She placed a number of star-shaped tools all around her, portable barrier devices she had developed herself, and activated them all to form a defensive matrix.


    The city¡¯s shield sparked to life in the meantime, enveloping the metropolis in a protective layer as powerful as the capital''s. Like most of Cadria¡¯s major settlements, Tornatus was built upon a leyline, and it could easily draw upon its power to ensure the integrity of its shield. The barrier itself was made with cutting-edge technologies and had been rated to withstand the Grand Magus¡¯ most powerful spells.


    But even knowing that, Gloria was too nervous to do anything as her drone observed the sky.


    She began to pray as she watched the sword draw closer, first to the god of the inner flame for his eternal protection, and then the unnamed goddess whose wrath the city undoubtedly felt. It drew closer and closer, soon hiding the aether itself from the city¡¯s inhabitants. A meteorite in such a scenario surely would have been glowing hot, but the heavenly sword experienced no such phenomenon. The air in front of it was magically parted, making way for a projectile that refused the concept of terminal velocity.


    It continued to accelerate, speeding up until the final impact.


    There was a moment of conflict, a brief pause when the sword met the shield.


    The sky burst.


    The heavens fell.


    The world shuddered.


    For the seventh time in its history, the planet known as Mara was struck and displaced by a piece of the moon. A distortion was introduced to its orbit, evident not only in the twinkling stars but also the land itself. If not for the gods¡¯ intervention, the lunar strike would have introduced an age of disaster. The system suppressed the scope. It prevented the impact¡¯s debris from catapulting into the atmosphere, orbiting the planet, and passing the moon. It suppressed the shockwave as well, allowing only the hundred kilometers around the attack to feel the full extent of the force.


    But even Flitzegarde¡¯s¡ªthe mightiest god¡¯s¡ªprotection was imperfect.


    The attack could not be fully contained.


    All of Pria shook. There was not a place on the continent entirely free from the impact. Everything from the thousand-leveled beasts that inhabited the Langbjernns to the southernmost tips far below the equator felt the violent, seismic shake.


    The shockwaves gave birth to towering waves that swallowed cities a full continent away.


    Needless to say, Ground Zero did not survive.


    People and buildings alike were ripped to pieces by the explosion, and Gloria was no different. Her flimsy shield failed to hold. She evaporated into thin air before she could even be sure of the impending doom.


    Those lucky or durable enough to survive the initial wave were hardly any better off. Sixty seconds after the lunar impact, the sword unleashed a second attack.


    Its mana swelled, spreading through the crater before igniting in an icy flame. The blast was so tall that it extended into the heavens, freezing everything within its permitted range. The air, the water, the ground, the survivors. Everything was held in place as the assailant assumed control of the shredding winds.


    One centimeter at a time, the storm shrank.


    It closed in on the city¡¯s center, swallowing its prey piece by piece and adding to its rich and vibrant colour. It didn¡¯t matter who it touched. The warriors, whose levels ran as high as eight hundred, were murdered with the same ease as the newly born.


    Everything was unilaterally destroyed.

 Chapter 294 - The Tempest’s Wake

    Chapter 294 - The Tempest¡¯s Wake


    Claire did not sit idly as the city was destroyed. Stumbling forward, she ripped open a massive portal in the sky and dragged the fortress beyond.


    It was a painful, difficult affair. The levels she earned did nothing to ease her torment. Her body had been ruined, mangled so horribly by the overwhelming force that the system could not repair her.


    She fell to her hands and knees, gasping for air, as Sylvia ran around the city. The fox was gathering souls, taking the fallen into her tail for temporary storage. Every fourth individual she gathered was offered to her creator¡ªa price they had agreed upon when he provided her with a dose of ether. It was hardly a fair exchange. It had taken the celestial only a thousand souls to craft the steroid, and he had walked out of the deal with nearly two hundred times the number.


    The golden drink was a means for a celestial to fight a god, a tool that a divine being could leverage to push himself beyond his limits¡ªcertainly not anything a mortal should be randomly ingesting. The sheer amount of magic and divinity it bestowed had completely and utterly fried her circuits.


    She felt like her consciousness would slip away, but a glance at Pollux¡¯s face kept her wide awake. His horror and confusion fed the lyrkress¡¯ flame and filled her heart with vigour anew. She took half a step towards him, ready to gloat her victory and deepen his despair, but the scenery warped before she could. The barren wasteland became a sea of clouds, with three divine figures scattered amongst them.


    Flux, the lady in the centre, stepped forward, her face somehow looking equal parts annoyed and amused.


    ¡°Good evening, Claire.¡±


    ¡°Good evening, Box.¡±


    The greeting was accompanied by a tilt of the head.


    ¡°I took the liberty of initiating your ascension before you fell apart and died,¡± explained Flux, with a smile.


    ¡°Alfred said it wouldn¡¯t kill me.¡±


    ¡°You cannot fool me, Claire.¡± Sighing, the goddess snapped her fingers and filled the night with half a million twinkling stars. ¡°You had intended on ingesting them and absorbing what you could to fuel your ascension.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Flux pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°There is reckless, and then there is insane. I don¡¯t suppose you need me to inform you that this harebrained scheme of yours falls into the latter bucket?¡±


    ¡°I need something strong,¡± said the mortal, as she averted her eyes, ¡°so I can kill him myself.¡±


    ¡°I am well aware. But before we discuss that matter, we must first concern ourselves with your other classes.¡± Flux waved her arms and produced a series of panels¡ªentries ripped out of the mess that was the halfbreed¡¯s log.


    Log Entry 720194


    Your secondary class, Cloudburst Sorceress, has failed to mutate. (Error Code: 28430 Forbidden Class Requested.)


    Log Entry 727189


    Your class module has been rebooted with administrator privileges.


    Log Entry 749587


    Your secondary class, Cloudburst Sorceress, has mutated into the titular class, Tempest Witch.


    Tempest Witch¡¯s level has been reset to 1.


    Log Entry 749594


    The system-wide multiplicity of the Tempest Witch class (2) exceeds the maximum cardinality (1) allotted for titular classes. Your secondary class authorization has been suspended. (Error Code: 10938157 Maximum Cardinality Exceeded.)


    Claire furrowed her brow and looked at Flux, who only gestured for her to keep reading. The other goddess in the endless space, however, interjected before she could.


    ¡°Tempest witch is my class, young one,¡± she said. ¡°Flitzegarde restricted its access after looking into its capabilities.¡± Griselda waited briefly, continuing only after the halfbreed tilted her head. ¡°She didn¡¯t like the idea of people throwing large objects at Mara, but you went ahead and did it anyway.¡± The space rock¡¯s face was twisted into a smug, triumphant grin. ¡°Serves her right for spoiling my fun.¡±


    Builledracht, who was seated in an invisible chair as usual, raised his wine glass to his lips. Its contents were neither red nor white, but cosmic, swirling with the same medley of colours as Flux¡¯s eyes and hair. ¡°It¡¯s truly a mystery how your worshippers might have mistaken you as anything but chaotic.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like they think that we can¡¯t have habits without being stuck-up prudes.¡±


    ¡°That is my thought on the matter exactly, see Dorr, for example¡­¡±


    The gods continued to chat, but Claire ignored their banter.


    Log Entry 769872


    Your secondary class, Tempest Witch, has mutated into the titular class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest.


    You have acquired the Heavenly Annihilation skill.


    Log Entry 769873


    Your class module has encountered an error. Titular classes cannot be preceded by non-titular classes. (Error Code: 912 Titular Class Validation Failed.)


    Log Entry 769874


    Your secondary class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has become your primary class. Llystletein Essencethief has been cannibalised and removed. Skill Assimilation Rate: 58%


    Log Entry 769875


    Your primary class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has consumed your secondary class slot. You may no longer select a secondary class.


    Your primary class has been enhanced. Functionality has been expanded, and your ability score growth has increased.


    Claire immediately opened up her status, but Flux raised a hand and stopped her, once again gesturing towards the filtered logs presented. Though reluctant, the halfbreed pursed her lips and followed the finger as directed.


    Log Entry 772109


    Systemic threat detected. You have been marked for elimination.


    Log Entry 798371


    An administrator has taken action and suppressed your primary class¡¯ functionality. Your ability to conduct planetary bombardments has been heavily restricted.


    Log Entry 798372


    Systemic threat neutralised. You are no longer marked for elimination.


    ¡°You will need approval from a minimum of ten gods to perform an orbital strike on Mara. There must be at least three representatives from either faction, and you can only be approved for one attack at a time.¡± Flux began to speak as soon as the final entry crossed the longmoose¡¯s eyes. ¡°Celestials may cast their ballots as well, though their voices are only a third the value, and they may constitute no more than half the effective votes.¡±


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    ¡°So the class is useless?¡±


    ¡°Not quite.¡±


    The goddess crafted a box with the snap of her fingers and provided the accompanying description.


    Witch of the Seventh Tempest


    A titular class granted to one who has destabilized the planet¡¯s orbit with an attack from outside of its inhabitable range. The ability to perform such a massacre can only be marked as a trait of the clinically insane. Please see a death-agnostic therapist at your earliest convenience.


    This class does not have a maximum level. Its potential for evolution cannot be determined at this time.


    Claire blinked a few times, looking between the box and the person behind it. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look very useful. The description barely says anything.¡±


    Her obstinance only prompted the goddess to chuckle. ¡°You will understand in time. Now, let us return to the other order of business.¡± The space between them suddenly widened, with a trio of true-formed Claires each appearing on a massive platform. ¡°There were over a hundred choices available. I have narrowed your options down to the most powerful.¡±


    The qiligon on the left was the first to warp. It grew larger, thicker, longer, expanding in every dimension into an otherwise identical creature almost ten times its size.


    Awakened Frosty Longmoose


    The adult version of the aberration created during your previous ascension. Still just as deranged and fueled by madness, this force of nature is an embodiment of destruction, effectively a dragon in the form of a wyrm. For reasons beyond the understanding of any rational being, this bizarre race bears the potential for infinite physical growth. A meter is added for every three days lived; it is only a matter of time before the awakened longmoose wraps its head around the world and finds its tail at the end of its journey.


    Awakened Frosty Longmoose¡¯s maximum level is 1000. This racial class¡¯ evolutions are currently unknown. All ability scores are increased by a multiplicative 10% for every kilometer grown.


    This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:


    - Ascend as a Frosty Longmoose


    - Demonstrate the extent of your wrath


    - Cast a spell with a total mana cost in excess of one billion


    Next to change was the moose in the middle. For the most part, it shrank. Its body shape was condensed, squished into an almost lizardman-like frame that stood at a measly seven meters tall. It had large, reptilian wings, massive claws, and a pair of horns that extended from the back of its head. But most striking of all were its eyes. Strewn all over her body, her pupils were no longer purely serpentine. The slits were still there, serving as a foundational layer, but each glowing red eye was marked with a complicated magic circle, large enough to leak into its otherwise pitch-black sclera.


    The organs were not entirely biological. They were much closer in nature to Vella¡¯s¡ªrelics grown from a base of flesh and blood.


    Apocalypse Dragon


    The Apocalypse Dragon is a veritable incarnation of mass destruction. She is powered primarily by a bottomless void, the negative energy of which is expressed through a lack of heat. Her chilling aura is capable of effortlessly and unconsciously draining the life force from her surroundings and repurposing it for her own use. This passive ability commands the weak to fall. Good riddance. May they be drowned in the darkness of the abyss.


    Apocalypse Dragon¡¯s maximum level is 1000. This racial class¡¯ evolutions are currently unknown. Ability points awarded from active combat are greatly improved.


    This class was unlocked through Builledracht¡¯s divine intervention. Congratulations. You have impressed even the gods with the sheer extent of your bloodlust and spite.


    The man in question smiled when she looked his way, lightly raising his cup before returning to his conversation with the moon.


    Returning the greeting, Claire directed her own eyes toward her final choice. It was by far the most peculiar, not a horned deer, as she had half expected from Flux, but an eight-legged centaur whose only serpentine traits were its cheeks and eyes. The design was almost too simplistic. Even with its winged hooves, she almost felt like it was more suitable for her first ascension.


    Reading its description, however, revealed a completely different story.


    Welkin Wanderer


    The Welkin Wanderer is the courier of death. Powered by an infinite source of energy, she is capable of running across the sky and ferrying her sinister message through to the end of time. For her magical heart, she pays only the price of compulsion. The wanderer must drift from place to place, sometimes venturing beyond the stars and other times to the depths of the sea. Whatever the case, she must continue to roam and to bring death to those whose paths she crosses.


    Welkin Wanderer¡¯s maximum level is 1000. This racial class¡¯ evolutions are currently unknown. Bonus ability points are awarded for every thousand kilometers travelled.


    This class was unlocked by losing your way. May you find peace again along the path you forge.


    Claire immediately began to pick the properties she wanted. She started with her existing form as a base and selected a few key traits from the others¡ªnamely the wanderer¡¯s engine and the dragon¡¯s void.


    There was a price for only picking the best parts, but she paid for it by dousing the stars and feeding their souls to the fire. But just as she was about to finalize her choice, the goddess twisted her lips into a grin.


    ¡°I have produced a more efficient version of the class that you are on the verge of forging.¡±


    She turned her panel towards the mortal.


    ¡°I believe you would only stand to gain from accepting.¡±


    Claire carefully glanced between her creation and the goddess¡¯ before begrudgingly relinquishing a nod. Flux¡¯s version was everything she had wanted but better. The only cost was to the system¡¯s restorative functions¡ªlevels would no longer fix her entirely, offering only a minor boost to her healing instead.


    Hardly a notable cost at all.


    Log Entry 848372


    Your ascension is complete. You have become a Caldriess.


    ¡°I named it for you ahead of time, so that you would not make the same mistake again.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± said Flux with a smile. ¡°Perhaps not.¡±


    Your base health has increased from 5000 to 100000.


    Your base mana has increased from 15000 to 500000.


    Your ability scores have been increased:


    - Strength increased by 50000


    - Vitality increased by 10000


    - Wisdom increased by 25000


    ¡°Just as how the lyrkress is a nymph that strums a harp and sings, as she treads her waterlogged garden, the caldriess is a feral beast with the wrath of a fiery mountain. She erupts when disturbed, and brings a chaotic tide capable of swallowing a civilization in a single breath.¡±


    The upper limit of your divinity has increased from 2715 to 1000000000. This change has led to an adjustment to its present value.


    The efficiency of your ability scores has been drastically increased.


    Corpus Imperium has evolved into Cataclysm Convergence.


    Claire could feel her body pulse as each line echoed through her head. Her damaged circuits were rebuilt and empowered. Her scorched flesh was healed, but the burning pain remained.


    Eyes of the Deep has been assimilated into Cataclysm Convergence. This assimilation has earned you a proficiency bonus.


    Your lifespan is no longer limited, but your outward appearance will be affected by your mental state.


    You have unlocked a quaternary class slot.


    Log Entry 848373


    Your primary class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has consumed your quaternary class slot. You may no longer select a quaternary class.


    Your primary class has been enhanced. Functionality has been expanded, and your ability score growth has increased.


    The first shape she took, as her spirit returned to the mortal realm, was her ascended point of origin¡ªher new true form. It was smaller, sleeker, and more equine than her previous incarnation. She stood at only three meters tall and ten meters long, with her tail making up most of her length. Her face was so thin that it felt more like a deer¡¯s than a dragon¡¯s, and it was marked with an icy, uncentered horn.


    Her true form¡¯s wings were gone, with the fins attached to her ankles growing to make up the difference. Perhaps thanks to the ether¡¯s still-lasting influence, her magic circuits were somewhat abnormal. The rigid lines could be seen running through her flesh, breaking up her scales with their ephemeral glow. Much like her mystic eyes and her frozen spike, their circuits¡¯ colour was constantly in flux, changing as the various sources of power ran rampant through her body. It took a moment to get it all under control, but she soon dismissed the black from her sclera and the red from her irises. The gold was thrown out as well, leaving only the usual icy blue.


    Becoming a humanoid proved more difficult than expected. Her first attempt yielded a largely draconic result. The size was right, but her hands were claws and her feet were hooves. Her ankles continued to sport their wings, the size of which had remained unchanged following her transformation.


    She focused on her limbs when she next made the attempt, but again, the result was unexpected. It was her head that became inhuman, retaining its qilin-like form. Her next few tries were similar, failing in some way or other, but she eventually managed to twist her body until it was more or less correct. The horn growing from her head was disproportionately large, her chest was more prominent, and her arms ended in talons, covered in scales from the elbows down.


    She flexed the accompanying claws until she was sure they were as dexterous as her fingers. They were more difficult to control. There was one less digit, but each had an extra set of joints that felt equally foreign and familiar. They facilitated her movements, allowing her to form a fist far tougher than one of flesh alone.


    Finally satisfied with the result, Claire nodded to herself and turned to her prey, her lips a predatory, hungering grin.


    The second act was over, but the curtain had yet to fall.

 Chapter 295 - The Raging Storm

    Chapter 295 - The Raging Storm


    The city-turned-crater was filled with the sound of clacking heels as she approached the marquis with a haughty smile. There was an almost painstaking delay between each step. She moved gracefully, waiting for each sound to fade before creating another.


    ¡°What have you done?¡± Pollux spoke as she drew near, his throat raspy and his words shaking like a leaf in the wind.


    ¡°Nothing worth crying over.¡±


    ¡°Nothing worth crying over? Nothing worth crying over!? You have just snuffed out a million of our people¡¯s lives!¡± he shouted through gritted teeth.


    ¡°The number was closer to eight hundred thousand,¡± she said nonchalantly.


    ¡°Surely you do not truly care so little.¡± The taunt was met with a glare. ¡°Do you not understand the gravity of what you have done? You have just destroyed so much talent, so much technology! It will take decades to regain what we have lost.¡± A breath calmed him down. Not completely, but enough that his next words returned to a normal volume. ¡°If vengeance was what you wished for, then you should have simply struck me down.¡± His eyes were hollow, welling with frustration. ¡°There was no reason to inflict such needless atrocity upon your own people.¡±


    The caldriess nearly rolled her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t have a ¡®people,¡¯ Pollux. Are you really so dense that you can¡¯t get that simple fact through your head? I don¡¯t care for Cadria. I¡¯ve never cared for Cadria. It¡¯s a stupid, barbaric nation with half a set of morals between its entire population.¡±


    ¡°Barbaric? We are not barbaric! If there is anything barbaric, then it is only what you have done!¡±


    ¡°What I¡¯ve done?¡± A contemptuous, mocking laugh escaped her lips. ¡°I¡¯ve done nothing but squash my enemies underfoot. Is that not the Cadrian mentality?¡±


    ¡°You murdered everyone. The scholars, the childre¡ª¡±


    ¡°How is that different from any of my father¡¯s killing sprees?¡±


    ¡°Your father is a compassionate man. Every citizen he stabbed was like a knife to his own heart. He only cut down those that he had no choice but to slay, and even then, it was in the interest of the greater good. You, you are simply a monster that feels joy in place of remorse.¡±


    ¡°What did you feel then, when you killed my cat?¡± Claire narrowed her eyes.


    Silence.


    Silence that only fueled her rage.


    ¡°Get up.¡±


    She snapped her fingers and undid his restraints. The block of ice that surrounded his body vanished in an instant, shattering into a thousand pieces and scattering beyond the stars.


    Though his mind was certainly clouded, Pollux did not charge her as soon as his fetters were removed. The warrior stood his ground instead, carefully examining the caldriess with an eagle eye. His lack of a weapon had little to do with his caution¡ªhe continued to remain where he was even as his flagpole was thrown towards his feet.


    It was the expected behaviour. He was not just a trained Cadrian soldier, but a warlord that had seen the nation through a millennium of service¡ªa tenure even longer than her father¡¯s life.


    Claire was not nearly as wary. She barely paid him any mind, opting instead to scan the changes to her abilities as she summoned Boris into her hands. Even in his lizard form, the living weapon fit like a glove. Her claws slotted perfectly between his spines, and his tail was just the right width for her hand talons to wrap around it. A premeditated crime on the goddesses'' account.


    She fiddled with his familiar heft, shifting him between a few random shapes before removing her shoes and kicking off the ground. Her agility hadn¡¯t changed, but the world almost seemed to fly by. She was behind him before she knew it, skidding to a halt with her weapon yet unswung. Her eyes spun as a throbbing pain spread through her body, pulsing through each of her magic circuits in turn.


    Something was wrong.


    Her body had been rebuilt from the ground up, forged anew with the change to her race. Her flesh had grown resistant to divine energy. Her circuits had, at least supposedly, been repaired.


    But the ether¡¯s side effects continued to haunt her. Everything hurt. It took clenching her teeth just to pick herself off the ground. Still, she swung her weapon. She grew his length by a hundred meters as she spun around and delivered a heavy sweep. Pollux stood firm. He blocked the blow with the back of his fist. Half his fingers were broken, but they were restored just as quickly. Flexing the digits, he grabbed ahold of the mace, only for it to vanish like a ghost.


    It was back in her hands, only one meter long with its lips a dopey smile.


    And as for the caldriess? She was in his face, her grasping claw extended towards his chest.


    Thinking nothing of it, the centaur stood his ground. It was standard practice. He could easily take a deadly blow from a monster over a thousand, often enduring even their ars magnae without a care in the world.


    His flesh was temporary. He could regrow his guts a hundred times a second.


    So he prepared to retaliate with a heavy kick.


    A plan that lasted until her magic flared.


    Mana erupted from her arm after she buried it in his chest. Everything from his ribcage down was blown away, evaporated in an instant by the ensuing attack.


    He wasn¡¯t sure what happened. One moment, all of him was there. And then in the next, it was gone. There was no splatter of blood, no scattered flesh. It was like he had been outright removed.


    Still, he was unconcerned. It had only taken a tenth of his total HP. It would only take a second to see it all restored.


    He looked up as he fell, expecting another heavy blow, but she didn¡¯t bother, only kicking him away and staring with her father¡¯s freezing glare.


    That was when he realised that his body had failed to return.


    His flesh was bubbling. The wound that had transformed him into a chest, two arms, and a head leaked blood as it violently convulsed, twisting and turning as it struggled to regenerate.


    Glancing at his status revealed that all but a sliver of health had returned. There was nothing in his log to denote the abnormal condition.


    It wasn¡¯t until a few seconds later that his torso suddenly regrew. Everything from his hips to his back suddenly appeared, sprouting from his guts like a tree from the soil.


    She attacked as he regained his footing. Her second rush was more precise, but she refrained from using her claws. The lizard was held in both hands instead. He knew what she was up to. She was experimenting, testing her abilities and toying with him as a cat would a mouse.


    An absurd, cocky mistake.


    And one he knew all too well.


    Pollux had done the same, many times, throughout his extended tenure. And each time, his prey had struck back with surprising strength, and each time, taught him the err of his ways.


    It was precisely those lessons that had culminated in the catgirl¡¯s demise.


    He knew better than to let a cornered rat bite.


    And he would make sure to subdue his foe before she learned the same.


    The marquis began by meeting her head-on. She was fast, but even with a blade in hand, her attacks were pitifully unrefined. They were closer to those of a feral beast¡¯s than a trained warrior¡¯s, wild and lashing, driven more by instinct and momentum as opposed to anything that could even remotely amount to technique.


    And precisely because they were so simple, he found them easy to predict. It was trivial, even with her weapon¡¯s shape in flux.


    He blocked her sword, parried her spear, and sidestepped her hammer. None of it took any effort. On either of their parts.


    Claire was simply stretching her limbs and confirming the changes in Boris¡¯ biology as she swung him. Before their ascensions, his response times had served as a limiting factor, but the coin had flipped when their bodies were remade.


    Boris was lightning fast. It took him no more than a tenth of a second to complete a change from one complex shape to another. It was only because Claire was explicitly ordering a longer delta that it was more gradual. And even then, it was just for aesthetics. She would have easily thrown them to the wayside and abused his maximum speed if she was going for the win.


    Accompanying the upgrade was a whole library of arms. Every weapon he had ever consumed or otherwise studied was listed in his possible transformations. For the most part, the catalog consisted of kitchen knives, forks, and plates, but sorting by type revealed a deity¡¯s dagger, a crimson blade, and a Paunsean sword.


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    Claire chose the shortest weapon following a moment of contemplation. A tail sprouted from its rear and wrapped around her arm as she gripped it in her hand. In the meantime, its blade extended, growing to a full two-meter length. According to the lizard, it was a part of the dagger¡¯s function. Vella had simply hidden it away, set it to awaken only if its wielder was on the brink of death. But Boris bypassed the requirement. It wasn¡¯t a modification. His Infinite Armoury could fix weapons and restore them to their undamaged states, but changing them was beyond the scope of its powers. Activating the hidden feature, however, came as naturally as changing the shape of his blade.


    The attack delivered with the weapon was heavier than most. Though it was a casual swing, it had enough power to knock him off his feet and launch him across the broken city.


    Claire chased, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. The exact set of choices that the marquis had been awaiting.


    He flapped his wings and righted his balance. Waving his flag activated a whole slew of skills, over a dozen buffs that enhanced everything from his perception and his reaction speed to the amount of raw damage dealt.


    On the battlefield, his purpose as flagbearer was twofold. The first was to draw enemy fire. That was why his ability scores were skewed so heavily towards his vitality, and why he could regenerate even when hit by a fortress-felling attack. The other was to inspire his allies and bolster their ability scores, so they could function like the elites they were.


    With the city in the state it was, he had no allies to buff, but the marquis was unconcerned. To fly a flag alone was precisely the condition he required to enter his most powerful state.


    And it was with that power that he swatted her weapon away and raised his banner overhead.


    Titan¡¯s Grasp¡ªhis tank class¡¯ ars magna¡ªembodied the concept of empowerment. It summed his already-boosted ability scores and applied ten times the value as a bonus to his strength.


    Castle Crusher¡ªhis knight class¡¯ ars magna¡ªallowed him to manifest a siege weapon¡¯s purpose by nulling his enemy¡¯s defenses. Be it a suit of armour or a massive wall in his path, his attacks would plough right through and strike directly at his target¡¯s flesh.


    And Loyalist¡¯s Might¡ªhis flagbearer class¡¯ ars magna¡ªepitomized a patriot¡¯s heart. It allowed him to borrow a single ability from the man whose banner he flew. And he knew exactly what to choose. If there was anything that could assure his victory, anything that could destroy his foe in a single attack, it was his master¡¯s technique, the ars magna that could split its target in two.


    The overhead strike was aimed at her head.


    His master would surely mourn. But Timaios took no chances.


    For a moment, it looked like she would die.


    But the head he struck was not the head he had made his target.


    She had parried the blow with a second lizard, which had suddenly appeared in her open hand.


    No matter to him. Castle Crusher bypassed the toy. It split the metal reptile in half and encroached upon the Caldriess¡¯ arm.


    To create a scenario in which their concepts clashed.


    The true ice in her bones was indestructible. But severance could cut anything. It was a direct conflict, one that ground the system to a halt.


    There was a lapse in time, an infinite moment of which the participants were all aware.


    The unmangled lizard looked at his other body in horror.


    The flagbearer pressed harder on his weapon, driving it to cut that which could not be broken.


    And the caldriess smirked.


    She already knew the outcome.


    Titan¡¯s Grasp was useless because ability scores would not reflect in a clash of concepts.


    Castle Crusher was useless. The ice was not a defensive measure, but rather part of her body¡ªprecisely the entity he had hoped to attack.


    And Loyalist¡¯s Might was useless because the marquis had chosen the wrong ability.


    True ice was a rare elemental power source hand-crafted by the gods, its unique properties bestowed by their divinity. It was hardly something that could be denied by some mortal¡¯s ability to lop random objects to pieces with a conceptual knife.


    And it was precisely with that decision that the moment was ended, with Flitzegarde reluctantly ruling in the caldriess¡¯ favour.


    A snicker escaped her lips as time resumed. Wasting not even a second, she drove Boris between his ribs and severed his lower half again.


    With no magic to impair it, his regeneration immediately healed the wound, bringing his two halves together while she repeated her attack. Each strike was delivered with more force than the last. But he neither broke nor died. His mind regained its function after a brief delay. By the third hit, he was parrying again, retaliating with sweeps and slashes of his own.


    He was able to ward her off even as she held a Boris in each hand. Hardly a surprising development.


    Swordplay was the one place where he had absolute confidence as her superior. It was his last bastion of hope, the only ability that he could still trust, and no doubt the saving grace that he had assumed would secure his win.


    Exactly as she had planned.


    She backed off after a brief exchange and nocked one Boris against the other. The first was transformed into a massive bow, a whole three meters tall. The second became an equally large arrow, long as a spear and heavy as a harpoon. The lizard¡¯s body lit up. Icy blue waves radiated from his frame as she charged him full of magic and pulled back on the string.


    Boris practically teleported as he was unleashed, drilling a hole in the centaur''s face and melting half his brain. The remaining flesh was frozen, transformed into an icy prison that took him a second to break.


    He found her in a dual-wielder¡¯s stance by the time his eyes had returned. In one hand, she held a blue rapier and the other a crimson Cadrian sword. She led with the second blade. It was thrust straight at his eyes, its edge glimmering with the same magical strength that adorned her clawed arm. Cautious of the crimson light, the marquis prioritized evasion. He twisted his head out of the way, only for the limb that held the blade to change directions. It was like it ignored the laws of physics. One moment it was flying straight, and the next, it was moving in a backward arc, cleaving like the moon through the night.


    He was able to parry it, but only barely. A twist of the flag knocked it away, but her second sword was quick to take its place. The rapier spun like a drill, crackling with her magic as she drove it towards his core.


    He moved to intercept, waving his pole-weapon, but again an impossible maneuver threw his defense for a loop.


    It was like the sword had been mirrored. It didn¡¯t stop, nor even slow. It simply went from going in one direction to going in the other.


    Even more confusing than the movement of her blade was that of her feet. She didn¡¯t need to balance. It was nonsense. Half the time he looked, they weren¡¯t even on the ground. And yet, her leg muscles tensed, like she was pushing off some surface or other, even though he saw no such thing.


    The barrage that followed was every bit as baffling. He couldn¡¯t wrap his head around it, even as she repeatedly tore him apart. Her defenses were just as enigmatic. Her body would move unnaturally whenever his weapon came close.


    Sometimes, she would ignore her momentum. And others, it was like she was simply relocated, picked up by some invisible entity or other and thrown in a random direction.


    She couldn¡¯t be read.


    Her stance, her muscles, her eyes, her limbs. It didn¡¯t matter what he watched. It was all equally as uninformative and impossible to understand.


    It would only be a matter of time before he was brought to his knees.


    That was why he played his final card¡ªthe skill that demonstrated his mastery over his racial class.


    He was a thunderhoof dreadnaught, not because he had the power to manipulate electricity, but because of the sound that was made as he tore through enemy lines. Following the line of thought, its ars magna was a stomp, a powerful, roaring stomp capable of shaking the battlefield and devastating all that stood in his wake.


    He needed to catch her underfoot to ensure her destruction, but that could hardly be done without any way to interpret her movements. So he reluctantly raised his hooves and bashed them into the ground.


    He expected a massive impact.


    But they stopped in place.


    When he looked back at his opponent, he found her eyes warped. The whites were black and the blues were red, pulsing with a powerful magic that commanded a budding, primal fear; he was a cat before a dog, a deer before a bear, a rat before a snake.


    More enemies appeared as he struggled to regain control. All of them were lizards, identical to the one she had once in her hands. They were floating in the air, face down, tails towards the sky, encircling him in a rigid, hexagonal formation.


    They all flew towards him when she snapped her fingers, autonomously diving into his chest with their bodies turned to blades.


    They froze on impact, anchoring his body to the ground, but he pushed forward, ripping out his own intestines as he forced another attack on the lizards¡¯ mistress. It was one of the cleanest swings he had ever delivered. The air parted before the tip of his flag, making way for a slash as smooth as butter. She didn¡¯t react in time. It was a direct hit on her ribs, a crushing blow that could shatter any bone beneath its weight. But it did little in the way of harm.


    She was knocked out of the weapon¡¯s path, but having killed so many before, he could tell from the way it felt.


    None of her bones were broken.


    In fact, from the way she landed on her feet, still steady and unflinching, it looked as if she had hardly taken any damage at all.


    The centaur began to tremble. The shaking intensified as she slowly approached again, her eyes as empty and uncaring as they had been before he struck her. The fear lasted until he steeled his nerve and dug his feet into the ground. Pushed to the brink, he delivered an even cleaner blow. It was an overhead strike that struck her skull. The force was poured straight into the catalyst that adorned her head. He tried to part it from her body. But it remained exactly where it was.


    He continued with a flurry of blows, each on her person, and each to no effect.


    It was because she redirected the force of his blows. Everything was poured into the air around her and dispersed before any damage was dealt. The first attack was the only one where she had botched the timing.


    His attacks grew more frantic as he swung and failed.


    But his desperation yielded no results. A clawed hand flew towards his shoulder, ripping it from his body with a magical blast. As with the first claw strike, he found his body only bubbling as his flesh tried to heal. A second attack, a sweep of Vella¡¯s sword, removed his other arm and sent his weapon clattering to the ground.


    It too, came with a destructive property. Neither limb could heal itself¡ªa problem only further enforced as a ring of ice was tightened around his shoulders.


    He took a step back when she marched forward.


    And then a second, and a third. He flapped his wings, preparing to escape through the air until his wounds were healed, but he was frozen in place. The magic circles in her eyes were glowing, locking his ability to run.


    And then a fist straight through his gut and a hand around his neck.


    Pollux could feel his health draining faster than he could heal.


    ¡°You were right.¡± He squeezed the words through laboured breaths.


    The numbers could not be refuted. It would only be a matter of time before his life was through.


    ¡°You really are his daughter.¡±


    To her annoyance, the man¡¯s face warped into a fearless grin as he cut his regeneration short.


    ¡°But know this, Claire Augustus. You will never surpass him with your heart as twisted as mine.¡±


    He had already accepted it¡ªthe fact that he was slain by a monster of his own creation. And that once again, his master would have to pick up the slack that he had left behind.

 Chapter 296 - Epilogue - Misadventures Incorporated

    Chapter 296 - Epilogue - Misadventures Incorporated


    A quiet sigh escaped Claire¡¯s lips as she watched the seconds tick by. She was supposed to be manning the front desk, but with the customer count a tiny fraction of its previous high, there was basically nothing for her to do. The entire morning was spent sitting around, bored out of her mind with her elbows on the marble countertop and her face resting in her hands. Her hair, which had grown to a surprising length, was tied up in a ponytail, and her eyes were adorned with a pair of ear-agnostic glasses.


    Sylvia was sleeping on the counter, Estelle was in the infirmary, and for whatever reason, there was a maid patrolling the premises and sweeping away any dust she found. They had liberated Nymphetel as well, but the soulless elf was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared on the night of his rescue without a word to anyone involved¡ªnot that it mattered. There wouldn¡¯t have been any work for him to do, even if he did wind up hanging around.


    The shop no longer offered its job-related services. Without Natalya at the helm, it simply wasn¡¯t possible to do all the work required. Claire couldn¡¯t handle all the documentation by herself, not to mention her lack of knowledge made it difficult to evaluate an appropriate wage for a given task. Predicting her plight, Arciel had offered to lend her some staff, but the lyrkress had ultimately refused and changed the business model instead.


    A few leftover items aside, the shelves were lined with nothing but potions and drugs¡ªgoods made by the doctor¡¯s hand.


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    With no alchemy skill of her own, Claire had no way of contributing. There was nothing for her to do.


    In her infinite boredom, the caldriess turned her eyes on her body, eventually focusing on the artifact strapped to her waist. She reached for its leatherbound cover, but quickly rescinded her hand after tracing her claws over its strap.


    She had kept the diary on her person ever since the incident. It was one of the few mementos the cat had left behind, but she couldn¡¯t convince herself to pry open its covers. Even the very thought caused her hands to tremble and her magic circuits to ache; only by petting her fox and playing with her fuzzy, orange tail did she return to her previous calm.


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll try again tomorrow.¡±


    Muttering to herself, she slowly raised her head to the door, right as it opened to reveal a customer. The lanky shark had no particularly defining features, but she immediately recognized him as one of the merchants that had come with the occasional request. He looked around the building, scratching his head and scanning the shelves as he plodded his way to the counter.


    ¡°Welcome to Misadventures Incorporated,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Hey uh, so what do you guys do here now, exactly?¡± he asked. ¡°It¡¯s not the MACC anymore, right?¡±


    ¡°We take people on misadventures,¡± said the clerk.


    The man cocked a brow, prompting Claire to breathe a sigh.


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s start over,¡± she said. Picking herself off the table, the caldriess greeted the man with a feline smile. ¡°Welcome to Misadventures Incorporated. Who would you like me to kill?¡±

 Chapter 297 - Prologue - The Scattered Stars

    Chapter 297 - Prologue - The Scattered Stars


    A fuzzy fox, an afternoon picnic, and a dead marquis. Claire Augustus, First Princess of Cadria, thought happy thoughts as she made her way through the castle¡¯s halls. It was an entirely foreign location. She was not in either of her homes, but one of the many fortresses scattered across the nation¡¯s western border. According to the fake¡ªthe homunculus that had taken her place following her escape from Cadria¡ªit was the primary residence of the warlord known as Marquis Cornelius Decimus.


    Though her tutor had certainly lectured her on all of the various details, Claire recalled little about the Decimus march. The only trait that immediately came to mind was its relative dungeon density. It was also lacking in terms of high-level locations, and as such, its people led poorer but more peaceful lives on average. That was not to say that they spent their days in poverty, however. Like all the western domains, the dungeon-deprived land was a producer of staple crops, and the hay harvested from its fields each season was what fed the country and fueled its army. It only took a brief glance out the window to really drive home the point.


    The fields went on for days, extending in every direction, as far as the fake could see. Claire¡¯s own vision would have extended much further, but she was hardly capable of expressing all her functions while she was possessing her replacement.


    Her eyes were only one of the many differences between the princess and the homunculus. The fake looked almost entirely human, minus her serpentine pupils, her scattered scales, and her massive, fuzzy ears. The original, on the other hand, was more monstrous, even in her most humanoid form.


    Real Claire could manifest four human-like limbs if she really put her mind to it, but the transformation could be maintained for no more than a few minutes at once. Even then, her other differentiating features were impossible to hide. Unlike the fake, she had a long elegant tail and a set of magic circles carved directly into her gaze. The replacement was also lacking the icy horn that grew out of her head and the equally icy spike that protruded from her chest, not to mention the inconvenient flipper-wing hybrids that grew from her ankles.


    They were all recent changes. She would have looked just like the fake a little over a year ago, but the time she had spent away from home had spurred her evolution.


    Claire had been put off by the homunculus when she first discovered her, but her outlook had shifted dramatically since their first encounter. Its adorable excitability and all-around optimistic outlook provided a fresh perspective on the life she once led. Perhaps she could have turned out that way as well, had her mother still lived¡ªa consideration that necessitated another wave of happy thoughts.


    The problem was her destination. Claire was headed straight to the person responsible for all of her misery.


    She would have preferred nothing more than to avoid him like the plague. In the past, she might have even fled through a door if he showed any signs of approaching. But the halfbreed pressed on. She stepped into the yard, ventured through the gardens, and reported to the training grounds, where he stood with a spear in his hands and his arms in constant motion. He was a giant of a man. His moose-like lower half was so far off the ground that she could walk beneath him if she crouched. His humanoid parts were scaled up to match, with everything but his ears much larger than her equivalents.


    The warlord¡¯s form was perfectly optimized for combat. Like most other warriors, he had long, almost disproportionate arms. Their lengths were extended so that he could reach under his body and touch the ground without bending any more than his knees. The lengthy appendages allowed centaurs to wield shorter weapons like swords and daggers without limiting their effective range, but most preferred longer blades regardless. They simply paired better with their massive, towering frames.


    Virillius was muscular, but not so muscular that it impeded his movement. There was, admittedly, some elegance to the shape of his frame. Even ignoring their near-identical colour scheme, it was not impossible to see how he had spawned Claire as his daughter. The resemblance surely would have been stronger had he allowed his hair to grow, but Virillius cut his mane short so it could not be used against him.


    And then there was his mana. It was difficult to tell with the fake¡¯s eyes, but the circuits that filled his body were arranged into their most optimal forms. There was a rumour stating that Vella, the goddess of war, had tweaked them herself, and Claire saw no reason to doubt the claim.


    His hands continued to move even after he noticed her approach, stopping only as she fearlessly stepped in range of his weapon.


    He knew that it was her.


    He had always been able to tell.


    ¡°Claire.¡± He set down his spear and rested his hands on its hilt.


    ¡°Father.¡± She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m here to take you up on your offer.¡±


    A sword with a lizard-faced insignia manifested itself in her hands. Even from so many countries away, he readily heeded her call.


    ¡°Teach me everything you know.¡±


    An unfittingly soft smile flickered across the cervitaur¡¯s lips. Even knowing her most recent misdeeds.


    ¡°Gladly.¡±


    ___


    A low growl escaped the god of the hunt as he accessed the mortal realm. His body expanded from a single point in space, growing from a divine speck to a golden beast no smaller than the citywide crater. There were plenty of birds and centaurs fluttering through the skies, with the latter group¡¯s members carefully inspecting the ruin. And yet, his massive, ethereal body went completely unnoticed.


    It was a feature of the system that masked his presence. He had not truly descended upon the world, only visited it by proxy by projecting his mind.


    Beneath the giant lion¡¯s glimmering feet, where his temple once stood, was a giant frozen sword surrounded by an otherwise empty void. The impact had swallowed his domain, followers and all, and the resulting tempest had completely removed his mark. It was practically a direct attack on his person. Even with his total divinity unchanged and his concept left intact, he was thoroughly enraged.


    His followers were hunters. That was not to say that they couldn¡¯t be culled; it was an everyday occurrence for one¡¯s prey to turn the tables. But what he could not forgive was how their lives were put to waste.


    The killer¡¯s classes had reached their upper bounds by the time his people had met their ends. She had gained nothing from their removal, not experience, not sustenance, nor even the thrill of the chase. Every one of his packmates, including the divine guardian he had instated to protect his temple, had met a wasteful, pointless end.


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    Had Flitzegarde not explicitly forbidden him from personally choosing his targets, he surely would have chased the perpetrator down himself. But the fire in the golden lion¡¯s heart was irrelevant while his feet were chained. Even passing the message along was a struggle. It was impossible to notify his priests without attracting the supreme goddess¡¯ attention, but he could sneak a revelation if he bestowed it to someone of little import.


    He accessed the system as he outlined his instructions and scanned the massive, towering blade for traces of the killer¡¯s magic. He didn¡¯t care much for the associated values¡ªit was simply the easiest way for him to grab her global identifier¡ªbut he did a double-take as he caught them in his peripheral vision. The familiarity of her wavelength grabbed, demanded, his attention.


    Furrowing his brow, the lion pulled up an ancient record and laid it atop his new prey¡¯s chart. It wasn¡¯t a perfect match, but it was close enough for everything to fall into place.


    The world shook.


    The lion snarled a dead man¡¯s name as he brought a mighty paw to his maned chest. There, beneath the fur, was a wound that no time or power could heal. The scar ached as he recalled the man who had inflicted it. It was a pleasant memory. He could only grin as he basked in the memory of his delectable flavour. And the thrill of hunting him time and time and time again.


    A dark scheme formed in the back of his mind as he checked the data again. He would not settle for just bringing down his nemesis again. He had finally recovered enough of his power to set his sights on the goddess that backed him.


    In due time, he would take her down and recover what she had stolen.


    And then, finally whole again, he would reprise his throne as the god of the eternal hunt.


    ___


    A middle-aged cervitaur rose from a bed of hay with a tired yawn. Even dreading the day ahead, he dragged himself out from within his blankets and made the painful trek to the nearest mirror. In another country, such a pristine piece of glass would have been a luxury impossible to afford, but as a Cadrian, Stan thought nothing of it. His only concern was the colour of his hair. The black was fading away for greys and whites, a fate shared by both his mane, his face, and even his body.


    While the state of his goatee certainly left the man forlorn, he didn¡¯t dally around for long. One quick wash later, and he was outside, trudging through the mud with a bucket in each hand. Both containers were filled with rancid slop¡ªthe unrefrigerated remains of the previous night¡¯s dinner. Stan himself would never dream of eating the waste, but the pigs and goats were happy to guzzle it down. The horses would have been just as eager, but they were given a slightly more luxurious meal. The spent brewer¡¯s grains were more nutrient-dense, and at the very least, were of a high enough quality that the cervitaur was willing to consume them himself.


    He went on to feed the chickens, the ducks, and geese before starting on the day¡¯s most labour-intensive task. Ferrying water between the well and the animals was his least favourite chore, but with all the other farmhands in mourning, he was the only one that could be relied upon.


    Stan lived roughly fifty kilometres north of the nation¡¯s southernmost border¡ªclose enough to have seen the cataclysm firsthand. Close enough to see the blade still glimmering on the horizon. Even some four weeks later, it remained perfectly unblemished, waiting for the god¡ªgoddess, according to some of the spared, whose account was admittedly rather suspect given their religious affiliation¡ªthat had thrown it to draw it from the world again.


    He still remembered waking in the middle of the night to watch the sword¡¯s descent. His barn had been toppled by the ensuing impact, and most of his crops had been completely obliterated. His neighbours fared the same. They had lost the better part of a year¡¯s harvest. But they were still better off than those that lived closer. Some of the other villages had lost everything but the people and the march¡¯s capital had been completely wiped off the map.


    The material goods themselves were hardly a concern. The government had already stepped in to compensate him and others like him. They had even enlisted their mages to help them recuperate and repair. Before long, all the buildings were rebuilt and refreshed, hence the roof still over his head.


    Of much greater import were the people lost. It was not at all uncommon for Rodna village¡¯s children to set out for the city. Tornatus was a popular destination for sparkly-eyed youth, be they academics or adventurers. Everyone had lost someone. Brothers and fathers, mothers and daughters, all evaporated by the heavenly blade.


    Stan was a rare exception to the rule. His parents had died long ago and he had no children of his own. His only sibling, his brother, lived far to the north, beyond the divine punishment¡¯s reach. In a sense, he was lucky, but so too was it a misfortune in disguise. There were already a number of rifts between the moose and his neighbours, and his lack of mourning only drove another wedge between them. With the way that things were looking, he would likely have to do something for the community to avoid any further ostracization.


    The middle-aged man scratched his ears and heaved a sigh. People were hard to get along with. He would have liked his neighbours more if they had been mindless animals, a prime example of which was the friendly neighbourhood dog that approached with her tail wagging up a storm. Cornelia was a member of the pack that protected the town. In all, the canines numbered roughly thirty. There weren¡¯t enough of them to form a fighting force by any means, but their scents and barks kept most livestock predators away.


    Smarter animals like bears, coyotes, and wolves knew better than to intrude on the guard dogs¡¯ territory. The risk of life and limb was hardly worth the meal when there was so much food to be found in the forests beyond the fields. Monsters were not as easily deterred, however, and often had to be fought back by the farmers themselves.


    A larger settlement likely would have been surrounded by walls or barriers, but tiny villages like Rodna were unable to afford such luxuries. Even ignoring the price, the resulting utility was questionable at best. Farmers were always looking to grow their fields, and the convenience wrought by the age of artifacts only further spurred them on. It didn¡¯t matter where they set their boundaries. The village would expand beyond them in the blink of an eye.


    One could argue that if artifacts were the problem¡¯s cause, then so too could they serve as its solution. The line of thinking itself was correct, but the government could hardly allow it. The autonomous turrets that they could have leveraged to protect their fields fell under the classification of military technology, and as such, could not be legally owned by the common folk. Some of the more daring villages, especially those in areas with less government presence, went ahead and bought them off the black market regardless, but it was an irrational risk. If there was one thing federal agents cared very much about, it was the misappropriation of their military secrets.


    As Rodna Village¡¯s chief was a coward, its inhabitants engaged in no such activity. They had to rely instead on the good old-fashioned approach of fending the monsters off themselves. A head-on encounter would have easily led to injuries, however, which was why Stan stepped in with the powers blessed upon him.


    ¡°How was the forest today?¡±


    He scratched the dog¡¯s chin as he asked the question. She leaned right into it, whining as she slowly worked out an answer.


    ¡°Not very exciting.¡± To anyone else, it would have sounded like a series of unintelligible dog noises, but as a tamer, the middle-aged man understood them as well as a person¡¯s words. ¡°The newcomers are still fighting for territory, but that¡¯s about it.¡±


    By newcomers, Cornelia meant the monsters that had fled from the area near the impact. Many had been displaced from their old homes, courtesy of the widespread destruction.


    ¡°Good. Keep an eye on them and tell me if I need to step in.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing, Stanley!¡±


    Still petting the pup, who had already gone belly up, Stan considered his future approach. The most aggressive monster introduced by the incident was a massive blue-skinned troll. If he wanted to appease it, he would likely need to collect a few fresh combs of honey and present them to bate its anger.


    The cervitaur was about to stand up from his crouching position when his ears caught wind of a familiar sound. The magical humming was followed by the whooshing of wind as a fleet of massive floating castles passed directly overhead. They were flying towards the south, guns deployed and prepared for war.


    Stan didn¡¯t know it at the time, but accompanying the armada¡¯s flagship were the actions that would ultimately seal his fate.

 Chapter 298 - A Midsummer Night’s Dream

    Chapter 298 - A Midsummer Night¡¯s Dream


    ¡°Whew! We¡¯re finally back!¡±


    A bright orange furball stood up on her back legs and stretched her spine as she crested a familiar hill. From its peak, she looked down on her favourite seaside city and basked in all its mundane glory. It had taken almost a full week of travel for the fox and her friend to head to the desert, terminate their target, and return to Vel¡¯khan. Of course, they could have easily compressed the trip by ripping a portal between their origin and their destination, but as a particularly depraved human once said, ¡®Where was the fun in that?¡¯


    Sylvia¡¯s only complaint pertained to the duration of their stay. They had barely spent a day touring the area even though they would have needed something closer to a year to hit every landmark worth a visit. The desert was filled with all sorts of mysteries. Countless tombs and dungeons were buried beneath the sand, ready and waiting to be explored. But they had seen none.


    According to Claire, her favourite chair, person, and means of transport, they would return sometime in the future to experience it in all its glory, but the fox was doubtful of the claim. Summer had come swinging through the door, bringing a fresh batch of requests along with it. There were at least another five misadventures in the queue, not counting the orders placed in their absence, and they needed to conduct a series of investigations before they could lock in their targets. The preliminary fieldwork was the most important and time-consuming part of the process; it was precisely through careful selection and scrutinization that they kept their friend¡¯s spirit alive.


    ¡°So where are we gonna go next?¡± The fox-elf scooted forward and looked down at her mount¡ªnot that there was any point in such an action. The qilin-dragon-snake-moose had an eternally blank face; it was impossible to read her expressions.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Claire. Her silvery-blue hair fluttered as the salty sea breeze embraced the hill. ¡°Ask our clients.¡± She glanced briefly at the grave beneath the tree before sitting on the swing right beside it.


    Slowly, the former lyrkress began to move, falling back and forth as she looked beyond the sea. Sylvia knew, in part because of her top-secret, totally-not-exposed mind-reading abilities, and in part because of their year-long friendship, that she wasn¡¯t nearly as calm as she might have otherwise appeared.


    The very act of seeing the grave had soured her mood. It had been a full month since Lia¡¯s death, but Claire was still far from recovered, and the fox herself was hardly any better off. A part of her wanted to return to Llystletein and idly pass her days like the rest of her species, lazing in blissful ignorance. It hurt to lose a friend. She didn¡¯t want to risk the pain again.


    At the same, its prevention was precisely why she had chosen to remain. She did still want to see the world, of course. To expand her view beyond the lost library was the reason she had first set foot outside her great-grandfather¡¯s domain, and she had every intention of seeing it through. But more importantly, she couldn¡¯t leave Claire unsupervised. Without her, the reckless dragon-moose would no doubt get herself killed in the blink of an eye, and that was the last thing she wanted.


    Claire was her pet. If horrible things were going to happen to her, then it would only be on her watch and with her permission.


    ¡°You¡¯re thinking about something stupid again, aren¡¯t you?¡± asked the pet in question.


    ¡°H-huh!? How did you kn¡ªI mean, no I¡¯m not!¡±


    ¡°I can see it on your face.¡±


    ¡°You''re literally not even looking at me!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Claire grabbed the fox off her head and pulled her into her arms as she turned her eyes on the city. It had changed drastically since the spring coup. Much of the initial damage had already been repaired and the foot traffic was back to its previous high. The streets and canals were swarming with people and fish of all shapes and sizes. Not all the travelers and city goers were sentient, however. Many were pack animals purchased as means of transport, but at a glance, it was difficult if not impossible for a foreigner to determine which species belonged to which group. Just as there were pets sitting in the carriages, relaxing alongside their masters, so too were there people committed to carrying others and their things along. The lines between the groups were muddied even further by their intermingling. Some of the boats were pulled by a mix of one and two-tailed sharks, with only the former group capable of speech and coherent thought.


    The beautiful half-submerged city was a veritable melting pot of races. Elves, lizards, spiders, rocks, and humans alike mixed in with their aquatic neighbours without a care in the world. For some, it might as well have been a paradise, but the halfbreeds were numb to the sight. If anything, they considered it as more of a pain in the rear, as it meant that their shop¡¯s design had to account for customers with drastically differing restrictions.


    Having to maintain one set of goods aboveground and another beneath the surface was a chore when the items in question could easily be carted out the door. Claire had made sure that no such incidents had occurred when she was present at least, but there was a noticeable uptick in theft when the doctor was left to tend to the storefront alone.


    They had tried asking Boris, Claire¡¯s weapon and pet lizard, to watch the doors by putting his infinite copies to work, but the self-replicating iguana failed the task spectacularly. He didn¡¯t need sleep. In fact, he had no use for it at all, and yet, all seven of the clones assigned to watch duty wound up napping on the job.


    That was about as hard as they tried before eliminating the underwater segment. None of the store¡¯s staff cared much for the decrease in profitability. Even with the potential customer count halved, the apothecary-cum-information broker did well enough to keep the shop afloat. Hefty as the payments were, the extra income that their less-savoury business brought in was just icing on the cake.


    Launching herself off the swing at the height of its ascent, Claire began to fly, or rather, fall towards the sky. She broke free from gravity and pulled herself towards the distant sun. It was the sort of slow, gradual motion that was impossible with natural flight, and yet, it was also the more familiar. She had mastered vector-based movement long before she grew her first set of wings.


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    ¡°Where do you want to have lunch?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Somewhere that sells fish, duh! We haven¡¯t had fish in days!¡±


    ¡°You ate a whole whale yesterday morning.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but that was a sand whale! That doesn¡¯t count. Plus, whales aren¡¯t even fish to begin with!¡±


    Claire paused briefly but decided to keep her comments to herself. Squeezing the fox just a little harder, she began drifting her way towards the northern wharf. She assumed her true form about a third of the way through the journey. The constant pain she suffered was not quite as sharp in the larger body. It did still throb, however, especially when she put her magic to work.


    Just over a month ago, the transformation would have entailed becoming a long, serpentine creature with an absurd length, but her most recent ascension had shrunk her body down to a more reasonable size. She was hardly ten meters from front to back, with her tail comprising roughly half her total length. Her eyes flickered black and red before returning to their usual tints, and her body was covered in a layer of thick, silvery scales. If not for the wings growing from her ankles and the talons that adorned her feet, she would have looked like a thin, stretched qilin.


    She changed her form again as she landed in front of a stall by the harbour. They very well could have entered one of the restaurants, but Claire didn¡¯t see the point. Her palate was unlikely to be satisfied unless they picked a place reserved for the upper class, and Sylvia lacked the manners to fit in. They would no doubt be kicked out after starting their meals, assuming they were allowed to be seated in the first place.


    The pair walked through the street after getting their food. The fox had munched her share down in the blink of an eye, while Claire took her time with it, taking the odd bite as she trod through the city. It was hard to see in the crowd. Standing at only a meter and a half tall, she could only see over the city¡¯s various two, three, and four-meter-tall residents by spreading her wings and taking to the skies. But while it was certainly inconvenient to be towered over by shellfish, it was not without its merits. She found it much easier to go unnoticed when everyone else was double her height.


    Slowly, following the waves of people, she moved from one end of the city to the commercial district at its core. The streets weren¡¯t quite as busy away from the harbour, but they were still flooded with pedestrians and wagons. She would have been readily overwhelmed had she been any less familiar with Vel¡¯khagan¡¯s arrangement.


    Twisting through one alley and out another, she arrived in front of the shop. The storefront was perfectly clean thanks to the maid they had borrowed from the castle, but there wasn¡¯t anyone to appreciate its polish. Estelle was holed up in her lab, and there wasn¡¯t a customer in sight.


    The maid in question bowed as they entered the shop, with Claire returning a silent nod, and Sylvia cheerfully breaking the silence. Josephine was a piece of sentient coral with a bright purple body made up of branching limbs like a tree. She didn¡¯t actually have a face, as far as Claire could tell, but the caldriess sensed her gaze coming from the tip of each extension. Fish would always gather around her when she was in the water, and she needed to soak at least once every two hours if she didn¡¯t want to die a sad and empty husk.


    That much, she had told them¡ªher lack of vocal cords did not in any way prevent her from speaking aloud. Unlike Chloe, Arciel¡¯s most debauched human maid, the coral chunk simply preferred to remain silent. Any mana wasted on voicing her thoughts was better used to keep her hydrated for longer.


    She wasn¡¯t the only maid responsible for tending to Misadventures Incorporated. The janitorial staff cycled through a pool of volunteers, with the switch happening once every three days. They wouldn¡¯t return to the castle until the end of their tenure, during which they would stay at the girls¡¯ house and tend to things there as well. It was certainly a rather spoiled lifestyle, and Sylvia had been somewhat concerned for their privacy, but Claire found it far more comfortable and familiar than the alternative. She hadn¡¯t the slightest clue how to clean. Lia had been responsible for most of the housework when she was still alive.


    The warehouse was the only place that had been allowed to rot. Being the queen¡¯s personal servants, the maids were driven and fiercely efficient, but not even they could handle an entire storage facility by themselves, and that was doubly true of one filled with miscellaneous goods. Its previous, feline owner had a penchant for gambling, and she thoughtlessly shoved everything she had won inside. Likewise, the same fate had befallen all the random souvenirs that their clientele had occasionally brought back when the shop was still the MACC. The employee housing once located on its second floor was the only thing that had been removed, magically erased in much the same way it was first constructed.


    No one knew exactly how the various things were meant to be stored, or if they could even be touched without specific considerations given that some of the objects were apparently cursed. For that, they would need a judge or an appraiser, but Claire couldn¡¯t be bothered to hire one. She was happier leaving the cat¡¯s things as they were. The sentiment had been applied to Lia¡¯s room at first as well, but she changed her mind after seeing it for herself. The entire bedchamber had been a mess of coins; the only way to get anywhere was to sneak between the various piles. The money had since been moved to Sylvia¡¯s tail, where it joined the million other things she kept in her pocket dimension.


    The two halfbreeds reported to completely different parts of the shop as the maid returned to sweeping. Sylvia ran right up to one of the walls, which was covered with a map of the continent, and turned into a tiny fairy with two distinct pairs of ears. The parchment transformed as she ran her fingers across it and marked the locations they had visited over the course of their journey.


    Most of Pria¡ªthe continent they were on¡ªwas still blank, but the bits that were filled in quite literally came to life. The animals wandered around their domains, the trees that dotted the woods fluttered as the wind blew past, and sand even rose from the burning dunes and fluttered its way onto the polished wooden floor. That, of course, earned the fox a glare from the maid, but Josephine¡¯s thoughts were outright ignored. The Llystletein forest critter had never asked for the cleaner¡¯s presence, and she was more than capable of containing the mess. A quick song or two would have everything fixed in no time. Singing was how she had constructed the building to begin with.


    While the oversized squirrel filled in her canvas, Claire went straight to the front desk and perused the notes that the maids had prepared. They made a list of visitors and allowed people to leave confidential messages for the half-lamia to sort through upon her return. In other words, they were requests, additional misadventures that she would have to consider adding to the list.


    The maids had been instructed to give the standard warning, and while their delivery was not quite as good as the lyrkress¡¯, they were certainly composed enough to inform the requestors that all parties would be equally judged. In fact, Claire had turned on her prospective employers on three separate occasions already when it was revealed that the circumstances were not quite as they had claimed.


    Naturally, the cleaning staff¡¯s handling of the scenarios meant that they were fully aware of everything that happened under the hood, and the news was passed along to their master. Arciel never complained about or otherwise condemned the business, only asking Claire to ensure that she properly documented everything that had been done. Every raid came with a writeup, and it was half to deliver them that the maids had been dispatched to begin with.


    ¡°Why are there so many?¡±


    To Claire¡¯s annoyance, there was a full stack of pages awaiting her return, nearly a hundred different documents in all.


    She doubted that most of the applications would ultimately result in kills. But either way, it looked like there was much work to be done. So she sat at the desk, grabbed her quill, and prepared to see it through.

 Chapter 299 - A Midsummer Night’s Dream II

    Chapter 299 - A Midsummer Night¡¯s Dream II


    The summer solstice was a more solemn affair than its frigid opposite. Often known as the Day of Atonement, the festivities would only begin the night after the gods had passed their judgment. Not all mortals believed in penance or redemption, however, nor did they necessarily trust that the divine pantheon would deliver the punishments desired. With their hearts heavy and their weapons drawn, they took matters into their own hands¡ªthe number of revenge killings trended straight up as the temperature reached its annual peak, and so too had risen the amount of work requested. Hence the stack of papers atop the front desk.


    Claire had spent the better half of the afternoon sorting through eighty-four potential assassinations. Some were summarily discarded¡ªthree had come from people too stupid to put two and two together. They had put in requests to eliminate the queen, in spite of the fact that Claire was known to be one of her closest associates.


    Of the remaining eighty-one, forty-seven were immediately torn in half. Some were ripped up because they were needlessly complex. Clients that requested specific methods of execution and clients that conveyed their messages in cryptic, nonsensical text were all summarily ignored. Likewise, any forms that lacked a reasonable point of contact were instantly thrown out. She understood why her clients were often afraid to leave any tracks, but there were countless ways around the problem, and she had no reason to help someone without half a brain to help themselves.


    Had she been present when they first walked in, Claire would have written the documents herself and pressured the answers out of the idiots in question, but the maids could not be expected to do the same. It wasn¡¯t their job, and the documents were intended to be kept strictly confidential. One could very well argue that Claire¡¯s dismissive attitude was unacceptable, as far as customer service went, but any clients that cared enough would eventually return to check the status of their applications.


    Even with the initial filtering out of the way, the lyrkress found herself with over thirty scenarios to investigate, almost ten times the number previously set on her plate. Naturally, the sudden influx of work came with the urge to procrastinate. She breathed a sigh, propped her face up with a hand, and turned her attention out the door.


    Her consciousness began to drift as the bright white light filled her vision, spreading into a sea of brilliant clouds. The goddess that lay beyond beckoned at her to approach, but Claire remained nonchalant, staying where she was and refusing to meet her gaze.


    It was a futile resistance that lasted until Flux closed the distance between them. She took the lyrkress¡¯ face in her hands and gently rotated her head so that their eyes were forced to meet.


    The swirling nebula that lay within the goddess¡¯ stare was warm and gentle, but also annoyed and reproachful.


    No words were exchanged, but her message was loud and clear.


    And then, as quickly as she came, she vanished, leaving the mortal to return to her shop with an even heavier sigh upon her lips. She had effectively abandoned the goddess¡¯ directive. Flux had entrusted her with a quest to earn the gods¡¯ blessings and favour, and she had neglected it ever since she settled down in Vel¡¯khan. Griselda was the last god to have offered her a real boon, and it had already been exhausted.


    There was a good reason for her hesitation and delay. Her act of vengeance¡ªthe destruction of Tornatus¡ªhad not left the city¡¯s temples unscathed. Some of the gods were likely to be more understanding, but even they could have been set off if any of their favourites were present at the scene. That was why they had avoided Primrose¡¯s Boundless Grove during their journey south. She was known as a nurturing caretaker, but even so, to enter her domain after obliterating one of her temples was no different from leaping headfirst into a pit of thorns.


    Even if the goddess of the flow demanded it, Claire had little intention of diving straight into the arms of an unbeatable threat. She would need a safer approach, and it just so happened that there was a hint in one of the request forms filed. The client was a priest from Aen¡¯s temple. Aen was the god that governed the concepts of travel and hospitality. He was worshipped most frequently by innkeepers and travelling merchants, and he was often depicted as a close friend to the god of commerce. Though he was typically considered a fairly generous man, his already sparse protection did not extend as far as those with belligerent intentions. He shied away from soldiers, mercenaries, and monster hunters, citing their professions and paymasters as problems in the way of his entertainment. Even if a traveller met all his requirements, it was rare for the god to intervene. There was always some risk inherent to stepping away from the safety of one¡¯s home, and in his eyes, the adventure was half the fun.


    That was also why he was commonly considered a pest that spirited children away. For those not looking to vacation, his presence was only a sign of trouble. And in this too he relished. That was why his faithful servants, the fairies and pixies scattered throughout the realm, would channel their elemental powers to play all sorts of tricks and pranks on its residents.


    Even as his servants, they were often attacked as recompense, and as such, it was safe to say that he would be one of the less irate. The problem was the request¡¯s legitimacy. The rules dictated that, after investigating a problem, she would kill all parties that deserved to die, regardless of who it was that called for her involvement. Technically, there was nothing that physically or magically prevented her from changing her mind, and she did judge on occasion that violence was not the answer, but to go back on her word on the god¡¯s account was to break the oath she had sworn on Natalya¡¯s heart. And with so little time past since the catgirl¡¯s swansong, she had no intention of doing any of that.


    True to her word, Claire had tried her best to take others into account. Pollux¡¯s downfall aside, she made herself out to be more amicable, despite always thinking that it was a pain as she went through the necessary motions. She was more vocal and she had even listened to a lecturing granny for a whole minute and a half before falling asleep. Small steps in the intended direction.


    Considering the priest¡¯s request was a risk. If he told the truth, and his target was really worth killing, then she could quite possibly earn the vacation god¡¯s favour. But if the priest was simply using her as a means to enact his malicious intent, then she would surely find the god more annoyed with her than he was already.


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll pay him a visit and see what he thinks,¡± she muttered. She never saw Aen present in World Chat, which meant the most convenient option was unfortunately off the board. She would have to visit one of his temples in person.


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    The remaining requests were not quite as difficult to consider. They consisted of all the usual affairs¡ªpunishing authority figures for abuse of power, eliminating unjust business rivals that blatantly skirted the rules, targeting specific criminals for injustices conducted long ago, and so on and so forth. A second pass through the files saw many of these disregarded as well. After touching Natalya¡¯s diary, which she had hanging off her waist, Claire decided that most of the claims were not quite worth the loss of life.


    The commerce-related hits were largely discarded. They had been written in a way to suggest the loss of fortune, but the offered payment was high enough to prove that her clients weren¡¯t as bankrupt as they claimed. And at least in her eyes, their rivals'' actions weren¡¯t quite as atrocious as the usual fare that drove her to action. She had no pity for the brokenhearted chap cuckolded by a corporate spy, for example. That particular problem was entirely his own. The only business-related request¡ªor rather requests, given that there were seven people begging for the same man¡¯s death¡ªshe considered involved a shady merchant that was supposedly poisoning children when their parents failed to obey.


    ¡°Sam Baker,¡± she muttered. ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound like he¡¯s from around here.¡± The same could be said for her, of course, but the man¡¯s name was decidedly lacking in Vel¡¯khanese or even Ryllian influence. If she had to guess, he was most likely one of the Cyreland folk, perhaps an ent or some sort of walking fungus.


    She was about to start writing up her notes when Josephine walked up to her desk and gestured at the stack of papers. Evidently, it was time for her to switch.


    Nodding, Claire retrieved a single letter from within her desk and handed it over. There wasn¡¯t much to report, besides that they had slain the target that the erdbrecher matriarch had requested.


    ¡°Chloe will be replacing me,¡± said Josephine. Her carriage hadn¡¯t quite arrived just yet, but there was nothing left for her to do. The whole shop was about as spotless as spotless could be.


    Claire nodded again, but internally, she was aghast. The perverted human was the last maid she wanted to deal with. Alas, there was nothing to be done. A Marcelle-drawn carriage with the problematic cleaning lady inside rolled up in front of the store before she could voice an objection. She expected the maid to burst through the doors and immediately get to teasing her, but her movements were conducted with far more elegance and grace than they were on any other occasion. She held her skirt as she stepped down from the carriage, took careful steps towards the counter, and greeted the lyrkress with a regal curtsy.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Lady Augustus.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s this about?¡± asked Claire, with her eyes narrowed. It seemed that Arciel was in the carriage as well, but as several previous instances had already proven, that was hardly reason enough for Chloe to be on her best behaviour.


    ¡°There is an important matter that requires your attention.¡±


    The lyrkress stared for a few seconds before rolling her eyes, reaching over the counter, and flicking the maid right between the eyes. ¡°Nice try.¡±


    ¡°Ow!¡± Wincing, Chloe backed away from the counter and breathed a sigh. ¡°I thought I¡¯d pulled it off pretty well this time. What gave it away?¡±


    ¡°Aside from the fact that we play this game all the time?¡± Claire breathed a sigh. ¡°Your mouth was drier than usual.¡±


    ¡°So you wouldn¡¯t have been able to pick it out if you didn¡¯t know me then¡­¡± muttered the maid.


    Thanks to their continued correspondence, she was getting eerily good at lying to people¡¯s faces. She had always been decent at it to begin with¡ªthe maid was one of the only people that had ever fooled Claire¡ªbut the improvements she made, each time she was given feedback, were so drastic that they were off-putting. She stopped blinking after the lyrkress told her of the habit, fixed her heartbeat when she learned that it hastened, and somehow even held back her sweat after being made aware of its creation. Maidhood was clearly a waste of her talents. She was much better off as an assassin or spy, but her degeneracy had ultimately led her down the path of a humble servant. Apparently, all so she could personally handwash the royal squid¡¯s garments.


    Sighing at the thought of the pervert¡¯s discarded potential, Claire reluctantly looked up and met her gaze. ¡°So? What were you supposed to say?¡±


    ¡°Ciel is waiting in the carriage. She has a rare break and was hoping to sit down for tea.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    Picking up her pet fox, Claire silently followed the maids to the carriage and locked the shop¡¯s door with a magical flick. There was no point in charging the doctor with the storefront¡¯s management. She would no doubt be too busy brewing some potion or other.


    ¡°Mmmnnn? Why are we moving?¡± asked Sylvia, with a yawn. She had decided to nap while her owner went through the paperwork. It seemed somewhat unfair at a glance, but most of the investigations not already covered by Estelle¡¯s intelligence network fell into her domain.


    ¡°Tea party,¡± said Claire, as she stepped into the coach.


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± The half-elf yawned. ¡°Hey, Ciel. Hey, Chloe.¡±


    ¡°Good afternoon, Sylvia.¡± The imperial bloodkraken smiled. She didn¡¯t look nearly as overworked as she had just a few weeks prior. Many of her reforms had already been pushed out into the wild, and there was much less on her plate given the relatively peaceful acceptance. Most of them started as local changes in Vel¡¯khagan¡ªthe nobility had much to say about using the capital city as a sandbox for her experiments, but the queen pushed forward in spite of their concerns and implemented them on a citywide scale. Only once they had proven fruitful were they allowed to leak into the rest of the nation. And even then, it was a process of gradual adoption.


    Not all domains were so slow on the uptake. Some of the more trusting followed the queen¡¯s example without being prompted, and there were others that even went on to iterate upon them with even stricter rules and regulations. It was only natural that they would try to suck up to the queen with her murderous mantis on the loose, but in Claire¡¯s eyes, they were a bit too eager to please. The whole point of experimenting on the capital was to prove that the policies worked. Emulating them without first evaluating their impact completely defeated the point.


    ¡°Did you enjoy your journey south?¡± asked the squid.


    ¡°Mmmmnnnn, I guess it was kinda fun?¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But we were in way too much of a hurry to get back. I wish we stayed longer, we barely had the chance to do anyth¡ªoh! That reminds me!¡± Sylvia reached into her tail and rummaged around, producing a wrapped box after a moment¡¯s delay. ¡°We got you a souvenir.¡±


    ¡°Why, how lovely. Thank you,¡± said Arciel. She gracefully undid the ribbon and found a set of cookies.


    ¡°They¡¯re made out of sand, but they¡¯re super tasty,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Sand?¡± said the squid, with a blink. ¡°I do suppose that it does not go uningested for those that live in the sea, but I do not see how it would find use as an ingredient.¡±


    ¡°Erdbrechers like sucking on rocks,¡± said Claire. ¡°This is just an extension of their usual behaviour.¡±


    ¡°How bizarre. I was not made aware of such a custom,¡± said the queen. ¡°No matter, I suppose there is no harm in having them with our tea.¡±


    Handing the gift off to one of the maids, Arciel looked out the window just in time for the carriage to grind to a halt. It was a twenty-minute trip, but with her old friends by her side, it had passed in the blink of an eye.

 Chapter 300 - A Midsummer Night’s Dream III

    Chapter 300 - A Midsummer Night¡¯s Dream III


    Claire¡¯s hair fluttered in the wind as she watched the sun sink beneath the horizon. A half-eaten meal sat in front of her. It was not because of the taste that she had yet to finish, but rather the sheer quantity of food presented. The royal chef tasked with making their meal was well aware of Sylvia¡¯s tendencies, and he had sized the portions accordingly.


    They hadn¡¯t dined in the great hall, nor any other room whose table typically served the purpose, but rather on one of the many balconies scattered throughout the castle. It was Sylvia¡¯s fault. She sang a beautiful, multi-hour saga that detailed the trip¡¯s ins and outs. It was not just her words that were present to entertain the listeners, but an accompanying slew of stylized illustrations, projected directly from within her mind.


    Surely enough, the eye-catching presentation drew a crowd of servants. It was just the maids at first, but others began to join as they noticed the commotion. With every newcomer and their mother asking for an encore, the fox was kept busy well into the afternoon. The sky had already started to redden by the time she finally wrapped up, at which point Arciel declared that they might as well stay for dinner.


    Claire was the only one that had yet to finish her meal. It was her bite size that drove the lack of speed. She only took small nibbles, thoroughly savouring the complex flavours as she considered the evening¡¯s work. They would have to scout their remaining targets by the end of the week if they wanted to make it in time for the solstice, and even that was cutting it close.


    It wasn¡¯t strictly a hard deadline. As far as she could tell, there weren¡¯t any requests that were particularly time-sensitive, but there was sure to be an influx of work following the Day of Atonement, and she wanted to get her existing tasks out of the way before it happened. Alas, the more functional scout was still in the middle of chatting with the queen.


    ¡°And then we tried these super sour fruits! I can¡¯t remember what they were supposed to be called, but they got shinier and sweeter the more you squeezed them without actually letting them pop. We bought a whole bunch, but Claire still isn¡¯t really used to her body yet, so she ruined most of them.¡±


    ¡°I must admit that it seems quite difficult to consume. Whyever would you go through the trouble?¡±


    ¡°I dunno, but apparently you can get a job squeezing them full time if you¡¯re good at it. I think everyone else just paid those guys instead, but Claire was really stubborn and wanted to do it all herself.¡±


    ¡°Did you consume the ones that you failed to sweeten?¡±


    Sylvia shook her head. ¡°I tried one, but they get too sour to eat if they burst.¡±


    ¡°Enough about the stupid cactuses.¡± Standing up from her seat, Claire lifted the fox off the table and pulled her to her chest. She didn¡¯t retract her shard, largely in part because it was no longer as dangerous. Thanks to her ascension, her bosom had finally grown to a size where most of the icy blade was hidden. ¡°We need to get to work.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Is it time already?¡± Sylvia peeked at the horizon. ¡°Ohh¡­ I guess it kinda is.¡± She glanced at the sun before leaning back into her mutual pet¡¯s embrace. ¡°Okay, bye Ciel! Have fun with boring queen stuff!¡±


    ¡°It is not quite as tedious as you may imagine,¡± said the kraken, with a faint smile. ¡°Do remember to write your reports once you have finished. Chloe has volunteered to join you for longer this time. We shan¡¯t be retrieving her until the solstice has passed.¡±


    Claire breathed a sigh. ¡°You want me to deal with her for a full week?¡±


    ¡°I am aware that she¡­ has her quirks, but she is every bit deserving of her position in spite of them.¡±


    ¡°I know. I don¡¯t hate her. But she¡¯s still annoying.¡± Prodding the queen between the eyes again, Claire flashed a smile, stepped over the railing and headed off into the night. The guards glanced at her as she floated through the airspace. Technically, it was a no-fly zone, but no one could be bothered to stop her. The royal guard¡¯s captain could throw as many fits as he wanted; it was hardly a problem of hers if he had no way of enforcing the rule.


    Sprouting wings from her ankles, Claire began to accelerate as soon as she left the castle grounds. Her destination was far to the west; the first target was a heinous tax collector in the city of Vel¡¯rulm. Because it was one of the cases she had fielded before leaving for the desert, she had already squeezed the requestor for his side of the story. There were just a few facts that she still needed to confirm.


    ___


    The fourth son of a poor aristocrat rubbed the bags under his eyes as he desperately fought the urge to crawl into bed. It was largely his brightly lit home that encouraged the behaviour. Being of a nocturnal species, the illivarian would have very much preferred to work in darkness, but alas, his eyes were worthless without the light.


    In the dark, the fuzzy, amphibious dolphin relied primarily on his ears for navigation. A quick sonic pulse was all he needed to visualize the world around him, to model in his mind a reproduction of the environment that contained all the information he required to go about his everyday life. It was precisely through its honing that his race was able to hunt and fight. But it was not without its weaknesses¡ªit could only outline the documents that lay on the desk in front of him.


    He needed more than just sound to see what was written on the paper. A few months ago, it would have been by a dim firelight that the ursine cetacean inspected his documents, but not knowing of his plight, his boss, the somewhat newly anointed minister of finance, had provided a series of potent magical lamps that left his whole house alight. To avoid their use entirely would have been an insult to his supervisor. His place of work was far from the castle, located closer to the nation¡¯s western front, but that did not necessarily rule out the possibility that a report would find its way to the minister¡¯s ears.


    And so he continued working throughout the night, yawning as he scribbled away at a pile of papers. He had to finish them while he was still able¡ªbefore the assassin invaded his manor.


    He had known for the past three days that a killer was coming to claim his head. The outlaw¡¯s calling card¡ªa small piece of paper with a date, a time, and a drawing¡ªwas situated on the corner of his desk opposite his unfinished work, as if to remind him of his impending doom. For a moment, the strange drawing caught his attention. It was difficult to interpret, and not necessarily because it was poorly constructed. In fact, the penmanship employed was among the neatest he had seen, but he could make no sense of it regardless.


    Depicted by the artwork was a strange creature with a thin snout and a long, stretched body. He had never seen anything quite like it before, but he had confirmed that it was certainly the assassin¡¯s mark. One such card was provided to every target slain without exception.


    It was an arrogant, ridiculous practice, but the murderer¡¯s record spoke for itself. Every individual gifted a genuine notice was slain without fail, and Lucas Gautier had already come to terms with the fact that he would likely be no different. There was no point in throwing bodies between them. Another target, the head of the Dumas trading company, had hired hundreds of bodyguards. The assortment of skilled adventurers and mercenaries had cost the merchant over ten times House Gautier¡¯s annual revenue, but he was dead regardless.


    His example demonstrated that resistance was to be conducted through alternative means. It was a message that House Gautier¡¯s servants had missed. Many had asked to stay behind, to remain with their lord and share his fate. He had certainly appreciated the notion, nearly crying in public when he was presented with the petition, but Lucas had shot it down. To task his guards with his protection was to ask them for needless sacrifice¡ªa punishment unbefitting their fierce loyalty. Only Henri, his sworn brother, had been allowed to remain in service¡ªa choice that Lucas had reluctantly made following an extended debate.


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    He didn¡¯t like it, but the man had a point. There was no telling if the assassin¡¯s calling card was genuine, and there was reason to suspect the whole thing a ruse. It would not be the first time. There had already been three cases where a supposed target¡¯s home was pillaged while they ran for the hills, and Lucas¡¯ was a prime target. He didn¡¯t have much worth reselling, but falsifying his records could easily earn an already well-off house a literal pile of gold.


    That, however, was not to say that an assassination was unlikely. There were any number of reasons for a bad actor to request an auditor¡¯s removal. Money was a sensitive subject, and tax collectors like himself were universally despised. There was a real possibility that his life was at risk.


    Knowing that, Lucas quickly lost the ability to continue his work as the hour drew near. Every few seconds, he would inspect his surroundings with a click of the jaw, just in case the killer was already upon him. And eventually, he managed to find him, or rather, her, from what his clicks said about her body. She approached the manor without any weapons, only a cloak that obscured her features and a pair of glasses upon her face.


    The gate almost seemed to welcome her as she approached. Its lock undid itself for no rhyme or reason, with the attached door following suit and swinging wide open.


    Standing up from his desk, he began pacing back and forth, his hands behind his back and his brow dripping with sweat. The calling card was legitimate. He was going to have to enact his plan and pray for its success.


    He observed her again with a louder sound, more carefully examining the details so he could loosely estimate her abilities. But she raised her head when he did, snapping to attention with her eyes locked on his room. The giant organs were twitching. He had failed to go undetected.


    Lucas immediately made for the secret passage near the back of his room, but she burst through the wall before he could pry it open. While her speed caught him off guard, the study¡¯s invasion was not at all beyond his expectations. The artifacts he had purchased from the Cadrians¡ªa half dozen mines, hidden beneath his rug¡ªwent off without a moment''s delay. The room was flooded by a burst of electricity, but the land dolphin was unaffected. The custom-made rings that dressed his left hand ensured his protection against the devices.


    He spun around and wrenched the secret passageway open, just for a clawed hand to seize his throat. Another artifact fired as soon as it grabbed him, but it dug right through the protective layer and shattered it with a squeeze. His body was dragged out from the tunnel and thrown against his desk. Countless papers fluttered into the air, with some documents settling on the ground and others escaping through the broken wall.


    Lucas opened his mouth to scan his assailant again, but a scaled foot buried his face into the scorched wooden floor before he could click his tongue. He half expected the perpetrator to end him then and there, but she started rummaging through his scattered documents instead.


    ¡°I have him pinned,¡± she said. ¡°Which file did you say I had to check?¡± The words were soft, too quiet for a normal person to hear, but the dolphin¡¯s sensitive ears picked them up with ease.


    ¡°Uhhmmmm¡­ I think it was supposed to be one of the ones from last month?¡± Another voice responded from afar, also spoken too quietly for anyone to pick up. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I wrote down the serial number somewhere but I kinda forgot my notes at home.¡±


    ¡°Stupid useless fox.¡±


    ¡°Hey! I¡¯m not stupid! I¡¯m just careless!¡±


    ¡°Same difference.¡±


    ¡°No, it isn¡¯t!¡±


    The banter lasted until the assassin stepped away and met his gaze. Her eyes were so icy and terrifying that he nearly forgot to breathe.


    ¡°Lucas Gauthier.¡± Her tone was completely devoid of warmth. A completely different tone than the one used with her direct report. ¡°Explain your biases against the less fortunate.¡± Her voice alone sufficed to reveal her thoughts. He was a sea urchin, and she was only dealing with him because she didn¡¯t have a choice.


    The contents of her words, however, were not quite as clear. He struggled to understand them, fumbling over their meaning in the back of his mind and ultimately failing to arrive at a conclusion. ¡°C-can you be more specific?¡± he asked, with a stutter. He didn¡¯t want to voice the question¡ªit ran the risk of setting her off¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t like he had any other choice.


    The assassin only seemed to find this frustrating. She narrowed her eyes, as if to express her annoyance, before lowering her head and breathing a sigh.


    ¡°You¡¯re stealing funds from the Cerise County.¡±


    Lucas furrowed his brow for a moment as he considered his words. The listed location had certainly jogged his memory, but he was unsure of how to respond. In all likelihood, she would kill him no matter what he said¡ªshe was only asking the question to sate her employer¡¯s curiosity. There was no harm in lying. In fact, one could argue that it was his final duty to confuse his proxy murderer with fabricated half-truths, but he only shook his head.


    Lies were like clothes. They had to be carefully crafted, else they would only be full of holes.


    ¡°I saw an opportunity to make some cash and I took it,¡± he said. ¡°The count¡¯s books are filled with errors. Everyone knows he¡¯s been lining his pockets for decades.¡±


    ¡°But your predecessor never intervened.¡±


    ¡°He must¡¯ve been a fool. These coverups are so obvious that a child could easily make them out.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever stopped to consider why?¡±


    The man raised both fin-paws into the air. ¡°No, but I understand now. I wasn¡¯t aware that he would be willing to put a price on my head for skimming just a few silvers off the top. I won¡¯t cross him again.¡±


    ¡°The damage has already been done,¡± said Claire. ¡°The orphanage funded by the embezzled funds has effectively gone under. Over half the children have wasted away.¡±


    Lucas scoffed. ¡°I don¡¯t see how that has anything to do with me,¡± he said. ¡°If the fat bastard really cared, he could have easily redirected some of the gold he wastes on pleasure.¡±


    Lord Cerise was one of Vel¡¯khan¡¯s most renowned gourmets. His team of chefs cost hundreds of silver each month, and the ingredients he imported were no less expensive. The auditor was right. He could have easily funded a thousand orphanages had he been so inclined.


    ¡°You misunderstand,¡± said the assassin. ¡°The count has no part in the embezzlement.¡±


    The half-bear¡¯s body floated up into the air on its own accord. He flailed his limbs, in an attempt to get back onto the ground, but he couldn¡¯t resist the invisible hand. Only when he was suspended high enough to face her did his ascent finally come to an end.


    ¡°The orphanage¡¯s headmaster sends his regards.¡±


    Her hand flew towards his neck, drawing blood as it pierced his fuzzy hide. He had half expected to open his eyes to see the divine realm, but the attack had, for some reason or other, failed to take his life.


    Confused, he looked at her, to find her face a frown. She removed her fingers from his neck and, after wiping the blood on his shirt, allowed him to fall to the ground.


    Henri burst through the door right then, screaming with his great sword raised overhead. Lucas closed his eyes as his old friend¡¯s weapon tore through the air, but he forced them open again. It was his duty to witness his lifelong protector¡¯s final hour. To look away as he was slain would be a disrespect to the sacrifice he paid.


    There was a loud clang as the assassin caught his sword, and another ringing sound as she destroyed it with a squeeze. But she didn¡¯t follow up. She looked at him instead, freezing him in his tracks with the spell in her eyes.


    The hired blade returned her attention to the documents instead, picking up various reports and silently inspecting them. The pages, which she further haphazardly scattered, rearranged themselves when she snapped her fingers. All at once, they fluttered to life, spinning around like leaves in a storm before placing themselves atop his desk.


    The only one she still held was the card that doomed him, which she tore in half and pocketed beneath her cloak.


    ¡°I was never here,¡± she said. The illivarian felt the need to object, but the assassin¡¯s gaze halted his lips. ¡°And anyone that thinks otherwise is free to speak up and die.¡±


    She exited through the broken wall, leaving the ursine dolphin to bring a hand to his chest and breathe a sigh of relief. He opened his mouth, only to freeze as she stuck her head back through the gaping hole. Cold sweat poured from his brow, and his heart nearly leapt from his throat.


    ¡°One final piece of advice,¡± she said. ¡°The minister knows what you¡¯ve been up to. It¡¯d be best to come clean.¡±


    The wall was fixed as she left again, just like his damaged carpet and the mines that were placed beneath them. The bewildered dolphin-bear saw it all happen. He could still feel the pain in his throat as his blood leaked from his wound. But even then, the sight was so surreal that he found himself questioning the entire experience.


    Perhaps, if he was lucky, it would be more than just a dream.

 Chapter 301 - A Midsummer Night’s Dream IV

    Chapter 301 - A Midsummer Night¡¯s Dream IV


    Claire watched carefully as her avatar moved across the glowing square, executing a series of attacks that only a vector mage could manifest. At a glance, it almost looked effortless, but she knew from first-hand experience that it was far more difficult than it seemed. The sudden changes in her momentum strained her joints and warped her flesh. She didn¡¯t feel it in small bursts, but continued abuse made her tendons scream. It was a pain only experienced in her humanoid form. She never felt the backlash as a slightly longer-than-average qilin.


    As if synced with her thoughts, the illustration suddenly assumed her true form. It fluttered around the magical box, mauling its foe with the sword between its jaws. It was a method of combat that she had yet to explore. And yet, it somehow seemed familiar. Just by looking, she felt like she could pull it all off.


    ¡°Those are just basic maneuvers,¡± said the ghost beside her. ¡°We can move on to more complex techniques once you¡¯ve mastered them.¡±


    Her eyes still on the screen, she replied to the claim with a silent nod. She could finally hear the man¡¯s voice, but somehow, she couldn¡¯t bring herself to reply out loud. There was something about the mysterious dream realm that stayed her hand, a fragile balance that she felt like her words would inevitably break.


    The phantom seemed to understand this as well. He didn¡¯t encourage her to speak, nor did he even give the opportunity. He would always begin rambling soon after she formulated her thoughts. The timing was consistent and precise; it was clear that he was listening in. Mind reading was an ability that he had never demonstrated before, but while it caught her off guard at first, she soon dismissed it as another needless consideration. It was just another part of the give-and-take that pervaded the rest of the realm.


    His distorted world did not strictly grow clearer as her body was changed. There were some parts of it where the clarity was undeniable. The magical boxes¡ªscreens, according to the phantom¡ªwere displayed in much higher fidelity. The individual splotches that formed the displays shrank; the images went from resembling works of embroidery to images made of coloured sand. Likewise, the details right next to her body were clearer. She could practically feel the silken blanket laid over the man¡¯s body, just as she could touch the strange, uniform fibres that bound the clothes scattered around the room. But everything outside her reach was foggier. The walls were blurry and some of the further set pieces looked more like amorphous blobs than the things she recalled from her previous dreams. Some of the objects wouldn¡¯t even appear until her head approached them, suddenly popping into existence only when her snout drew near.


    The realm¡¯s lord was the only thing that was clear from afar, but even then, there were hiccups. Sometimes, his spirit was more visible than others. It faded in and out, his transparency ebbing like the tide on a cold winter¡¯s night. Sometimes, he would even flicker, going out in the wind to return a moment later, unfazed and unbothered, despite his lack of continued existence.


    That same silencing wind was another source of curiosity. It was almost like they were outside; she always felt the draft coming from one direction or other. Again, it was proximity that drove their function. The only walls that blocked the night were those in front of her snout.


    ¡°That reminds me.¡± The ghost interrupted her thoughts as the room began to shift. ¡°You should spend more time in your true form. You¡¯ll heal faster that way.¡±


    Claire craned her neck and inspected the wounds in question. The frayed lines in her magic circuits were clearer in the dream realm. She could see them running down her length, with all four of her limbs just as plagued as her tail. Though, she couldn¡¯t see them all in detail at once. She had to snake her head around the tiny room, looking at each part of her body the same way she had to find every other object that faded in and out.


    In retrospect, becoming a room-sized qiligon had not been the best idea. Her bed chamber was already too small for her to stretch to her longest length, and his was maybe a quarter of the size. She wouldn¡¯t have been able to fit, had her body lacked its serpentine malleability.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have too much trouble fighting in it for now. Your scales have grown much tougher, and dragons tend to excel in close combat. You¡¯ll be impossible to injure if you manage to grow an osteoderm, but that kind of feature is too costly with your bones made of the stuff they are. Oh, and if you¡¯re wondering, an osteoderm is skin that¡¯s made of bone matter, like an armadillo¡¯s. It¡¯s a bit of a rare trait, but it¡¯d be pretty useful with bones made of true ice.¡±


    Perhaps because she was already asleep, Claire found it impossible to escape the lecture by way of nap. She could do nothing but sit around and listen as his words were etched directly into her brain.


    Perhaps realising her boredom, the ghost gave her a bit of an annoyed look and breathed a heavy sigh. ¡°Alright, I guess I¡¯ll leave it at that for today.¡± His realm began to fade, its set vanishing into the darkness as the clock ticked by, but the process reversed when he suddenly perked back up. ¡°On second thought, there¡¯s something you should see before you go.¡±


    He formed a dozen panels with a sweep of the hand¡ªsystem tools that looked almost suspiciously like the gods¡¯¡ªand navigated through the menus at a blinding speed. The room shifted as he continued his inputs, changing along with his form. He grew older and more muscular, sprouting a greying beard along with a set of equally grey scales. His only other inhuman features were his stellar eyes and the single horn that grew from his head. It was like hers, jagged and blade-like, but it grew from the opposite side of his skull.


    Far more drastic than the change to his body was that to the environment. His home was still a tiny room, but the materials were no longer the same. They went from smooth, painted surfaces to ridged partitions made of bamboo. The construction was more simplistic. There were no more windows or door frames, only openings with mostly rectangular shapes. From that, she could see right away that they were still above the clouds, located near the peak of a towering mountain.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    The spirit began speaking at length, but his words were obscured and his lips were blurred. She hadn¡¯t the faintest idea of what he was trying to say, but following his fingers out a particular window sent a jolt through the back of her brain. She didn¡¯t pay it too much mind at first, but it only took a single gaze at the scene for her to find it awfully familiar. The memories were hazy, dull, squirrelled away in some corner or other, but they were undeniably present nonetheless.


    Waves of nostalgia struck her one after another, as she gazed upon the world where the man had lived. Every mountain in the range was familiar. She could name the residents of almost every house she saw, and even recall bits of gossip spoken behind their backs. They were his memories, flowing directly into her brain through the realm that linked their minds. Through him, she could see their way of life, the seasons that came and went as they watched over the heavens. Through him, she saw Flux¡¯s smile, blossoming time and time again. And through him, she saw the pony and the snake, presented as gifts to commemorate the day of both their births.


    Turning around, the spectre flashed her a smile. It was not the usual boyish simper, but the exhausted grin of a working man. He began to speak again, but his words were masked by a high-pitched screeching, akin to a blade against a stone. The man clicked his tongue when he heard it and slowly shook his head. The previous scene, the dark room with the glowing screens, returned alongside his voice and form.


    ¡°I guess it was still too early.¡± The man brought a hand to his beard¡¯s last known location and heaved a sigh. ¡°A word of advice before I go,¡± he said, ¡°don¡¯t be fooled by Vella¡¯s facade. She isn¡¯t as dumb as she seems.¡±


    Claire furrowed her brow.


    ¡°Watch your back, sharpen your horn. We¡¯re already trapped in her web. It won¡¯t be long before her shadow looms.¡±


    With those words of warning, he faded into the darkness, leaving the ascended lyrkress to furrow her brow. It wasn¡¯t that she didn¡¯t trust him. He had always been there, teaching her for as long as she could remember. As far as she could tell, he had never been mistaken, but Vella was incapable of substantial thought. That much, she knew for a fact.


    She was about to reflect further on the goddess¡¯ inadequacies when she suddenly sensed the person in question. There was a rip in the darkness. A glowing pink claw tore its way through the cloth to reveal a grand cathedral. Claire took a moment to consider her options before drawing her key and rising from her bed. She didn¡¯t feel like dealing with her. She simply didn¡¯t have the mental bandwidth.


    Opening her eyes, however, revealed that escape was not quite as easy as she had hoped. Boris was seated on the side of her bed, sound asleep with a strange spider-like monster sitting on top of his head.


    She didn¡¯t need to focus on its magic to tell that it was one of Vella¡¯s brood. That much was clear from the construction of its body. It was largely mechanical; its mostly spider-like frame was made of a foreign, divine metal. She didn¡¯t know all that much about the substance¡¯s properties, but it was loaded with mana, enough to sideline any drowsiness that still remained. There was so much raw energy pooled in its claws that they glowed in a mystical light. They were a familiar shade; the spider wore the exact same colours as the goddess of war.


    It raised an arm and waved at her when it noticed her gaze, but Claire faked a yawn and went right back to bed. She even rolled over for effect, looking in the direction completely opposite the shocked arachnid. Puzzled by the blatant, poor act, the palm-sized spider froze for a few seconds before scuttling off her more metallic pet and climbing over to her face. It prodded her in the nose with its sharpened toothpicks, just lightly enough not to leave a cut.


    Annoyed, Claire seized the monster in one of her talons and yanked it away from her head. It struggled against her scaled fingers, waving its arms in a panic, but it was unable to break free. Eventually, it gave up fighting and resigned itself to being pinned against the sheets, at which point Claire finally sat up, smug and victorious.


    Still ignoring the thing in her hands, she scanned the room and found nothing else out of the ordinary. Sylvia was sleeping by her side, Boris had one of his clones on the bed, and all the windows were closed as usual.


    Chloe aside, they were the only people present in the home, and the maid was a late riser. She always tried to defend herself with the claim that she worked the afternoon shift, but Claire knew better than to believe her. After all, the human was just as lazy in the evenings. Though a much better cook than most of the other maids, she would only step into the kitchen if she was driven by a sudden craving. Curiously, it was never at mealtime that her fancies struck, but rather a few hours after lunch, or perhaps the middle of the night.


    Unless Boris was to blame, the guest had let itself in¡ªtwo scenarios that were equally likely, as was clear from the ikarett¡¯s freshly wakened but still thoughtless stare.


    Having determined that it wasn¡¯t a real guest, Claire finally released the goddess¡¯ envoy and greeted it with her coldest glare. Taking after its master, the living weapon crumpled like a house of straw. It fearfully backed itself into a corner, where it produced a web between its claws and weaved a series of words.


    ¡°I just want to talk!¡±


    Claire was skeptical, but she nodded her head. ¡°Talk then.¡±


    The spider breathed a sigh of relief and produced another batch of silk. But it soon discovered that its legs were stuck in place. Turning its eyes back at Claire, it found itself locked in a staring contest, with the spider hesitant and a teasing smile upon the snake-moose¡¯s lips.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± she asked, innocently. ¡°You said you wanted to talk?¡±


    Another moment of silence, with the metallic land crab breaking into an impossible sweat.


    Eventually, it gave in, lowering its head as a blush crept across its metal face.


    ¡°P-please let me use my webs,¡± it¡ªhe¡ªsaid. ¡°I-I don¡¯t really like to talk.¡± Neither his behaviour nor his mannerisms fit with the sheer depth of his voice. So gruff and manly it was that it almost seemed to linger, pervading through the room and echoing into the wood that made up its construction.


    It was such an off-putting contradiction that she was almost tempted to let him have his way, but a shake of the head saw the idea dismissed.


    ¡°You said you wanted to talk,¡± she repeated. ¡°So talk.¡±


    Though somewhat distraught by the development, the spider eventually resigned himself to his fate and clacked his mandibles again. ¡°I am Starrgort,¡± he said, ¡°humble servant to Vella, the beautiful and immortal goddess of war.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°And? What does the idiot you call your goddess want from me?¡±


    Starrgort blinked a few times, the lids across his many eyes closing in a wave, before finally piecing together a response. ¡°She wishes to warn you of the battles to come. Visit her temple and you sha¡ª¡±


    ¡°Okay. I don¡¯t care.¡± Claire magically yoinked the spider out of his corner and hurled him towards the window, but he extended his legs and caught himself in the frame before he could be ejected.


    ¡°Please wait!¡± he shouted. ¡°I swear she means no har¡ª¡±


    Claire flicked the bug and sent him flying with a vector. ¡°I told you. I don¡¯t care.¡±


    Closing the window behind her, Claire returned to bed and closed her eyes. The spider was still screaming something or other and disturbing all the neighbours, but she paid him no mind. It didn¡¯t matter what was put on the table. Vella¡¯s business was none of hers.

 Chapter 302 - The Bell Tolls

    Chapter 302 - The Bell Tolls


    Claire walked along Temple Street with brisk, confident steps. The gods¡¯ domains were as hostile as ever. Their divine auras radiated out from within their temples and threatened to squash her beneath their almighty weight. But though they were heavy, she no longer had any difficulty resisting them. They were less oppressive than the ether¡¯s ever-persistent backlash, only lightly prickling the skin beneath her scales.


    It was in her true form that she marched down the road. She was still shorter than the whales and lobsters mingled in with the crowd, but she was no longer so tiny that she could only ever see their feet. It helped that Temple Street was less crowded than the rest of the city. The solstice was still a few days off, and there was no explicit reason for the average citizen to visit until the longest day had come to pass. The only people still wandering around were those that had built worship into their habits.


    The sparser crowd allowed the spider to follow behind her, scuttling just quickly enough to keep up with her regular pace. His eyes were hopeful, but only because he had misunderstood her intentions. Claire was not visiting the goddess of war. She was scanning the street instead, in search of a temple whose identity she was unable to deduce.


    She didn''t know every deity that had set its roots in Tornatus, but generally speaking, guessing was hardly a difficult game. Different gods were worshiped in different regions. It was the people¡¯s need that drove their worship; mortals could only be bothered to pray to deities whose concepts affected their lives. Case in point, Flux was largely unknown in the northern lands. As far as Cadrians were concerned, the cycle of souls was irrelevant, for the people never wished to be returned to it to begin with. The greatest honour was to enter the Hall of Heroes, to be claimed by the goddess of war so that they could await the moment that she required their power. Nothing else mattered. There was no other outcome for which they would rally their banners.


    They did worship all of the primary gods and goddesses, of course. Regardless of nationality, all farmers prayed to Primrose so that their harvests could be rich and bountiful. Likewise, the goddess of order, the goddess of the sun, and the goddess of the moon were inevitably impossible to ignore. They were just as self-evident as the god of death and the divine collective of art and song, among others.


    Beyond the standard fare, Cadrians in general had the tendency to worship the goddess of the frozen wilds and the god of the inner flame, but each local group had its own preferences as well. With so much conquest in its past, the continent¡¯s northernmost nation was not strictly a religious monolith. It was impossible to say for certain who did and didn¡¯t have a temple in the Pollux march, but Vel¡¯khan was a faraway land. There was bound to be some god or other not praised in the centaurs¡¯ land.


    After about ten minutes of searching, Claire eventually settled on a massive temple with an angler¡¯s rod extending from its facade. Ignoring the protesting spider, who was desperately signalling at her with his webs, she took a deep breath and stepped through the gate. She was on high alert. Over half the eyes scattered around her body were open, carefully observing her surroundings for a potential attack. But none came. She was left to her own devices, even as she wandered towards the temple¡¯s entrance.


    The stairs didn¡¯t lead up, as they did in nearly every other case. Rather, they pointed down into the earth, into the soil beneath the chapel-plastered cliff. There were hundreds of steps in the flight and not even the slightest hint of illumination to guide a prospective believer.


    At some point, the downward spiral led into the water. While some might have judged the barrier an impasse without some magical device or other, Claire didn¡¯t need to breathe. Unperturbed, she closed all but her two primary eyes and slithered deeper into the sea.


    ¡°Welcome to the Church of the Darkest Depths.¡±


    A priestess greeted her at the end of her descent. The holy woman was of a race that Claire had only seen further east of the capital. Technically, she was a subspecies of arachne, like the goddess the lyrkress was actively avoiding. But while Vella was based on the spider, the priestess was more of a crab, albeit one with strange proportions. Her thorax was fairly small, only about twice as wide as her human-like half, but each of her legs was nearly as long as the caldriess¡¯ body. She would have been well over ten meters tall if she stood on the tips of her toes.


    A previous assassination had informed the halfbreed that the crab people were equipped with hidden stingers beneath their tails. They were fairly common in fully aquatic cities, particularly those too deep to see the light of day.


    Far more intriguing than the woman of the cloth, however, was the strange cathedral that contained her. Unlike most of the other temples, which were well decorated with silver and gold, the church of the darkest depths had next to nothing at all. There was a lonely platinum statue seated at the back of the room, but everything else was carved directly into the cliff. It was a haphazard construction. Not every piece of the floor was on the same elevation. There were occasional gaps in the rock, and it was not nearly as clean as any of the other churches. Adding to the impression of filth was the black, algae-like substance growing all around, but no one seemed to mind.


    ¡°Hello. This is my first time here,¡± said Claire. ¡°Can you tell me about your church?¡±


    ¡°Oh, of course!¡± The priestess happily clacked her feet. ¡°We are the humble servants of Ira, the god that governs the depths of the ocean through his mastery of darkness and isolation. If you¡¯re not uncomfortable here, then I suspect you will fit right in!¡± she said, with an audible clack.


    ¡°Why would I feel uncomfortable?¡± Claire tilted her head.


    But while she was confused, her response only earned another happy click. ¡°Being a part of his realm, this church feels just like the deep sea. If nothing seems off, then it means you¡¯re one of us!¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Claire took a moment to feel her surroundings. There was a little more pressure than usual, but she could only feel it if she went out of her way to pay attention. ¡°What kind of god is he?¡±


    The priestess bubbled happily. ¡°I¡¯m glad you asked. Ira doesn¡¯t really fit in with the image that most people have of the pantheon. He¡¯s from the deepest part of the ocean, like the rest of us, and believes that people should largely be self-sufficient. Some people have taken to calling him the god of monks and hermits, but that is not necessarily correct. He doesn¡¯t hate companionship, like some of his followers may have assumed, he just doesn¡¯t think it¡¯s strictly necessary.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± nodded Claire, unfazed by the priestess¡¯ fervour.


    ¡°If you do intend to take your worship along those lines, then it¡¯d be far more correct to refer to him as the god of meditation. Of course, how you practice that exactly is entirely up to you, but Lord Ira can certainly help you along.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Claire paused for a moment. ¡°I¡¯d like to visit the atrium.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± The priestess raised one of her legs and pointed to the right side of the underwater building. ¡°It¡¯s at the end of that hall over there. You can¡¯t miss it,¡± she said.


    Thanking the crab lady, Claire proceeded as directed, passing the plain decorations to arrive at an equally plain chamber. There were a few people inside already, gathered around a large stone tablet with their hands together in prayer. It had to have been the altar. It was the only thing in the room.


    Curiously, the monolith featured no text, nor any ancient drawings etched into its surface. It was simply a rock, a shiny black rock with a well-polished exterior, but a rock nonetheless. Claire moved towards it in spite of her confusion and picked an empty spot to take a seat. In any other form, she would have sat on her knees and prayed like a Cadrian priestess, but as a stretched qilin, such a feat was effectively impossible. Her legs didn¡¯t quite fold under her body as neatly, and she was too long. She surely would have driven her head straight into the ceiling if she decided to straighten her back.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    After a moment of contemplation, she settled for curling up like a snake. She formed a large circle with her head at the center and closed her eyes. She didn¡¯t know much about Ira, save for everything his devotee had listed, so she kept her prayer short and simple.


    ¡°O god of isolation and darkness. I beseech you for a task worthy of your favour.¡±


    She could feel his presence, but when she opened her eyes, she found the environment largely the same. The only difference was that the other worshippers were gone, leaving just the moose and the monolith behind. The rock started to shake after a brief delay. A purple flame flickered to life within its core. Oddly, the fire¡¯s light didn¡¯t radiate into the surroundings. If anything, it almost seemed to darken the area around it, obscuring even the caldriess¡¯ night-agnostic eyes.


    But though he made himself known, the god remained silent, and Claire did the same. She was awaiting his response, and as far as she could tell, he was simply nervous.


    ¡°I don¡¯t really have anything for you.¡± He eventually broke the silence, speaking in a whisper. His voice was boyish, sounding much closer to a preteen¡¯s than that of an ageless god¡¯s. ¡°But Flux told me to give you a quest.¡± There was another awkward pause. ¡°I have a tough dungeon in Kryddar, but people don¡¯t really seem to like it. If you can clear it and tell me why it isn¡¯t getting any visitors, then you can have my blessing.¡±


    Log Entry 849116


    You have received a quest - Crimson Rock


    Primary Objectives:


    - The dungeon known as Crimson Rock is cleared.


    - Provide feedback detailing your experience.


    This quest¡¯s completion rewards a minor blessing from the god of darkness.


    Claire furrowed her brow. She didn¡¯t mind the task¡¯s contents, but the location was problematic. Kryddar was one of the nations that shared a border with her homeland. Visiting would only bring her closer to the place she never hoped to return. It was also for that reason that she had avoided taking any commissions that took her beyond Vel''khan''s northernmost border. Still, she thanked the god with a nod of her head and spun around. Only then, as she set out to leave, did the deity finally speak again.


    ¡°I have a question,¡± he said.


    Claire cocked her head, silently asking him to continue.


    ¡°About your services,¡± he said. ¡°Do you accept gods as clients?¡±


    The qiligon stared at him for a few moments before slowly nodding her head. ¡°Yes. But the same rules apply.¡±


    It was the flame¡¯s turn to cast a curious gaze.


    ¡°I¡¯ll investigate everyone involved in whatever problem you present and kill all parties that deserve to die.¡± She narrowed her eyes. ¡°Even if one of those parties happens to be divine.¡±


    The god was, naturally, put off by the blatant threat. It took him a few moments to recover, with the cave brightening until he started absorbing the light from his surroundings again. ¡°Of course,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s only fair.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t so much that he was being magnanimous and simply allowing her insolence, but rather that he was so taken aback that he didn¡¯t quite seem to know what to think. Claire wasn¡¯t done, however. She put on her most receptionist-like smile and hit him again when he was down.


    ¡°Please refrain from explaining your request at this time. Unfortunately, we¡¯re closed at the moment. You¡¯ll want to visit the shop between ten in the morning and six in the afternoon. Please be aware that we do not take requests put in through proxies. You must show up in person while we are open. We can discuss the problem in detail as well as determine the appropriate remuneration once you¡¯ve paid us a visit.¡±


    Her part said and done, Claire lightly bowed her head and went off on her way before the god could sort through his thoughts. She casually vanished from his realm with a twist of the key and returned to the real world feeling more rested than she had been in the morning. She had nothing against the god of isolation. In fact, she thought he was rather amicable, but she had no intention of listening to someone rant about their problems outside of her working hours.


    The moose exited the same way she came, greeting the crab lady with a nod before climbing the steps and finding Starrgort waiting outside. He waved at her and scribbled some note or other into his web, but she ignored him and went on with the rest of her day. It was not so much anything to do with the spider in question but rather a matter of principle. If she taught the goddess of war that sending her minions worked, she would never be left alone.


    She crossed the street instead and scanned it for another candidate. It would be quite some time before she could complete the loner god¡¯s task, so she decided to pick up another in the meantime. After some deliberation, she decided that she was best off avoiding the travel god¡¯s temple. Likewise, she stayed away from his beloved wife, the goddess of consensual infidelity, albeit for a completely different set of reasons. Claire was at least fairly certain that she lacked a temple in Pollux¡¯s domain. Her worship was banned in Cadria on grounds of obscenity, as it was her creed that women should be loyal to their husbands, and that the husbands in question should pressure their wives to have salacious affairs with other men so that they could watch as the events unfolded.


    Opting for someone a little more tame, the lyrkress visited the goddess of order. She knew that Flitzegarde didn¡¯t like her, but she also recognized that she was unlikely to be eliminated for stepping foot on her grounds. The goddess was fair if nothing else, as could be seen from the fact that Alfred¡¯s temple still stood. Its construction was clearly a targeted attack, but according to the catgirl goddess¡¯ adherents, she had never voiced any opposition to its purpose or lord.


    The temple in question was just as she remembered. As was the case when she previously visited, the building was impeccably clean. The stones used in its construction were perfectly white, featuring individual bricks just as orderly as the line that stood in front of it. The guests stood in a perfect, single-file formation with precisely the same amount of distance between them, and the priests were likewise conducting their surveys in a perfect cadence; each of the three men noting the visitors¡¯ purposes bobbed his head and worked his quill in sync.


    Claire¡¯s body changed as she joined the line, assuming her humanoid form even without her explicit instruction. As was the case during her previous visit, she was glared at until she set her feet shoulder-width apart and straightened out her tail. A series of vectors seized her as soon as she did and corrected her distance from the person right in front of her. She tried resisting them, just for the sake of sating her curiosity, but she found herself unable. They were even more powerful than Alfred¡¯s.


    A completely different sort of magic generated a set of writing utensils. Compelled by something or other, she filled out the form while her feet moved on their own, stepping in time with everyone else in the queue. Her legs led her to one of the three priests almost immediately after she filed the purpose of her visit.


    ¡°Thank you for waiting,¡± he said. He was a bipedal dog, like one of the individuals running the patisserie up the road from the shop, but his head was shaved. The look was equal parts clean and jarring. It would have seemed like undue torture, had the other two priests not joined in the bareheaded behaviour. ¡°Your feet will take you to the atrium. May your prayers be heard and answered.¡±


    He bowed to her as the scene began to shift¡ªFlitzegarde pulled her through an almost invisible portal and warped her straight to her ultimate destination. Unlike the hermit god, the goddess of order did not keep her most sacred place beneath the earth. Instead, it was in an isolated location perhaps not even attached to the church in Vel¡¯khagan. The sound of the city was gone, replaced by a cold mountain breeze. There was no one else around, only the lyrkress, a grand cathedral, and a white stone platform where she could voice her prayers.


    Thinking that it was appropriate, given all the trouble she had caused, Claire retrieved a few coins from her purse and placed them atop the altar. She closed her eyes, sat on her knees, and clasped her claws together.


    ¡°O goddess of order, greatest of all deities and bringer of peace. I offer to you the one thing that I know will be of use to your people, so that it may perhaps be used to grant peace to the families that I have wronged.¡± The coins slowly faded from the table. She couldn¡¯t see the process, but she could feel them being taken away. ¡°If I may be so emboldened, I ask not only for your forgiveness, but also a means of earning your recognition.¡±


    There was a moment of silence.


    She could feel the goddess¡¯ stare, even as she opened her eyes to find no one else around.


    ¡°I can¡¯t just forgive you just because you bothered to ask,¡± echoed a voice, inside her head. ¡°But I know what these are worth to you, beyond their value as money.¡±


    Another moment of judging silence.


    ¡°She had a beautiful soul. I almost didn¡¯t realise she was one of that pervert¡¯s creations.¡±


    She could practically hear the goddess¡¯ conflicted frown.


    ¡°Come again some other time. You don¡¯t have to bring any more offerings. They won¡¯t make a difference.¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°But if you really insist, then I¡¯d like a bit of a snack.¡±


    With a standoffish meow, she left, removing not only her presence, but the entire cathedral as well. A somewhat disoriented Claire was placed just outside the church¡¯s ground and left to contemplate the goddess¡¯ haphazard response.


    It didn¡¯t make sense.


    She found it simply impossible to peg the goddess that had spoken into her mind as the central figure that upheld the rule of law.

 Chapter 303 - The Bell Tolls II

    Chapter 303 - The Bell Tolls II


    Claire pursed her lips into a frown as she drove her blade through an orcaped¡¯s face. His brain pulverized by her dagger-shaped lizard, her third kill of the night collapsed, twitching his final moments away in a growing pool of blood. The assassin¡¯s hands were still unblemished. Her vectors had kept his fluids from staining her fingers, but she wiped them on a nearby couch regardless.


    The dark green sofa had looked clean at a glance, but the lyrkress grumbled when she found her digits covered in dust. Somewhat annoyed, she rubbed them on her cloak before reaching inside it and retrieving a paper card. Sylvia had technically delivered an identical item, but believing that it was through the card that his death would be dealt, the silly merchant had gone ahead and torn it up. Naturally, that was simply not allowed. There had to be evidence of her mark at the scene, so Claire borrowed one of the corpse¡¯s quills, scribbled a sketch of a qiligon in the bottom corner, and listed the time and date. The sketch was haphazard, but she made sure to detail all the relevant parts before placing it atop her victim¡¯s corpse and leaving the way she came.


    As per the usual routine, Sylvia fixed the building as she stepped away. Her bardic song was not quite powerful enough to turn back time, but it could easily deconstruct the scene into its base components and remake them exactly as they had been before. Only alchemical reactions and the like could not be easily undone.


    Claire looked up at the moon as she paced away from the scene of the crime. Griselda was not always consistent; her fairly loose schedule made it difficult to tell the exact time from her position in the sky. The stars served as far better tools, but Claire lacked the knowledge to read them. The only thing she could remember from astronomy class was the fact that they were technically not a part of the sky.


    Casting the pointless tidbit from her mind, she pulled a wooden watch from her belt and glanced at its hands. It was just past midnight. The first target of the day had caused too much trouble and stalled her following kills. She had always known that some of the locals were particularly fast in the water, but she had never expected a portly, middle-aged marlin to outrun her. Even worse than that was his resistance to her magic. The ship-sized fish had spent a ludicrous amount of money on an amulet so powerful that it had resisted all the vectors she was willing to use. She could have overpowered it with a more potent storm, or perhaps a spine-numbing glare, but the damage to her circuits had ultimately stayed her hand. In the end, she had chased him until he tired himself out, some two hours and fifty lost pounds later.


    Still, the watch indicated that the final target had fallen a few minutes late. He was scheduled to die as the day ticked over, and she had murdered him an unacceptable five minutes past the hour. With everything done, she should have been due to go home and climb into bed, but there was too much work and little time to lose. She immediately set out for another destination.


    The man she was visiting had seven hits on his head, all from other merchants in the area on account of poisoning their children. The investigations, however, were still in progress. Despite the number of claims, there was little to no evidence of any wrongdoing. At worst, a few people had spotted him interacting with his competitors¡¯ successors, but that alone did not suffice to prove her clients¡¯ claims. Hoping to solve the problem sooner rather than later, she hopped onto the rooftops to avoid the twisting roads.


    The merchant¡¯s home was located on the opposite side of town. Like many other Vel¡¯khanese businessmen, he lived inside his store. It was a fairly impressive shop. It had only a single story, but it was as tall as a building with three. The reason was simple. It was equal parts workshop and showroom; a place where the craftsmen he had on site could interface directly with customers and sell their most prized creations in the exact circumstances that they were best presented.


    According to their investigations, there were five subsections in all, two of which were vacant and serving as storage. The others belonged to a smith, a woodworker, and a tailor, each of whom had come with a set of underlings and disciples. There were other employees as well¡ªa full team of salesmen, a couple of labourers to help transport supplies, and even a handful of bouncers to ensure that the guests remained well-behaved.


    It was that last group that had Claire surveying the building from afar. Had she been slated to kill the man outright, she would have happily stormed through the front, but investigations were more covert. She made note of their positions and paths, as to not alert them, before sneaking onto the premises and through the front door.


    According to the seven that were asking for his head, the man was a maniac. He had already harmed their children once, and had threatened to do it again lest they fell in line with his demands.


    ¡°Sylvia, give me a headcount.¡±


    She whispered the words into the wind, which responded after a brief delay.


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ It looks like there¡¯s twelve people. Three of them are walking around and everyone else is in the annex.¡±


    ¡°Same as what I hear then.¡± Claire mumbled under her breath as she stepped through the shop.


    Taking full advantage of the night, she carefully explored the property but found no clear signs of wrongdoing. There weren¡¯t any secret rooms, nor any condemning plans. Though she did find a few vials of arsenic lying around, they were located in sensible places. Namely, the tailors were using them in their dyes, and the smiths were using them to glue their metal. It didn¡¯t make him any more suspicious, but neither did it necessarily clear his name.


    Claire decided that there was nothing to be gleaned from further observation and marched out the way she came. She could have asked the man himself, of course, as she had interrogated the tax collector just the previous night. The lyrkress was confident in her ability to see through his lies and evaluate his character, but doing so would be akin to admitting defeat. Rhetoric was the least interesting approach, reserved only for the times when she otherwise failed to unravel the puzzle at hand.


    She lowered her ears to a more natural position as she slipped past the guards again. They seemed like they were roughly halfway through their first ascensions. They were strong enough to outmuscle most of the rabble, but their detection skills were still subpar. Even with her roguish abilities gone, Claire had no trouble sneaking past them.


    In the month since her witch class¡¯s acquisition, she had found it equal parts useful and annoying. Her grievances lay first and foremost with its impossible rate of growth. It was gaining less experience than her racial class, even when her vectors were used as her primary means of combat. She had visited the old lyrkrian lady and spent a few days ripping apart the leviathan at her door to confirm, just to find caldriess at level 504 and her titular class at level 2. Granted, that single level had come with an eye-popping 2500 ability points, so all was not quite as lackluster as it may have otherwise appeared. By contrast, each of her supposedly absurd racial class¡¯ levels had granted 777 a piece.


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    The ludicrous stat gain, however, was readily offset by a lack of functionality. The only new skill that her primary class had gained saw a strict restriction on the terms of its use. The rest of her abilities had certainly seen an improvement¡ªthe limit on her active spirit guardian count had been removed and her vectors were more powerful than ever¡ªbut it was not so great that she was happy with the cost, especially when most of her more mage-like functions were masked.


    Her racial class provided a similar experience overall. She was much stronger; the catalyst that was her horn had greatly improved her magical proficiency, and by that same token, manipulating her divinity had finally gone from a chore to a natural behaviour. Alas, the same restriction applied. She could leverage none of her more potent abilities without writhing in pain. She hadn¡¯t even been able to test her upgraded realm.


    She landed on one of her clients¡¯ businesses as she continued grumbling internally. It wasn¡¯t very far, only a few rooftops away. In fact, all eight of the parties involved did business on the same street, and the rumour mill suggested that the supposed poisoner was well aware of the others¡¯ distaste. And yet, for whatever reason, he still felt the need to involve himself with their children.


    Sneaking into the room of one such child, a young jellyfish with two wings and a beak, Claire carefully inspected her for any signs of harm. The poison and its aftereffects surely would have been long fought off by the system, but that wasn''t to say that all traces were gone. The easiest to track was the child''s mental state. Anyone that had suffered from such a traumatic event would likely recall it under duress.


    She focused on precisely that trail as she commanded her magical robe to take the form of the supposed poisoner¡¯s garments. The only part that differed was the headpiece. Rather than the shark¡¯s dumb-looking tiny hat, she opted for a hood that obscured her face. She positioned herself at the windowsill once the transformation was complete and magically shook the child awake. She only stayed long enough to watch her initial reaction, slipping away from the window as soon as the kid rubbed her eyes.


    She could have very easily been mistaken for the man in question through the bleary veil of awakening, but the child offered no obvious reaction. Instead she only muttered something to herself and went right back to sleep. The complete lack of fear was a sentiment echoed in the other children. None of them seemed to have any particularly negative reactions to the other merchant¡¯s form, suggesting that they at least did not think that he had a role in any potential poisonings.


    As far as Claire was concerned, that alone was enough to clear the man¡¯s name. It was unlikely that none of the children¡¯s parents would have warned them against the man that had supposedly offered them poison, and yet, none had reacted with any fear or distrust. In fact, one of the sleepy children had even calmly asked the man what was wrong, as if his presence was not entirely unexplained. Of course, speaking would have immediately given her away, so Claire put the kid back to sleep with a floating chair before she could be made to talk.


    All of her interactions culminated in a pair of conclusions. Either the man was a highly skilled pedophile, or the parents were lying. In either scenario, she was going to need to call her clients to the shop so they could justify their positions. She was starting to suspect that the whole thing was a load of nonsense that demanded none of her involvement.


    ___


    Despite the previous night¡¯s headache, Claire was early to wake the next morning. She rose with the sun, lifting her face from her bed right as its rays peeked over the horizon. Perhaps because she had slept in her true form, her head and her tail were the only parts of her situated on the bed. The rest was curled around the room, loosely forming a ring that ran around its perimeter.


    She slowly moved her head over to the window, taking care not to disturb the fox resting between her ears as she caught a breath of the early morning air. That, however, was the only part she paid any attention. Her tail was allowed to flick from left to right as she maneuvered her way out the window and into the sky. The spider that had camped out in the fluffy appendage was sent flying off in some random direction, discarded and summarily ignored.


    Boris, who had unfortunately shared the pest¡¯s post, was shaken off as well, but the lizard was too busy napping to make note of his sacrificial role. He didn¡¯t wake, even as he hit the ground hard enough to visibly dent the already downtrodden path.


    She didn¡¯t have any particular destinations in mind, so Claire began by heading away from the sea. The salty breeze was more likely to wake her companion than the gentler land-locked air. Her concern, however, quickly proved needless. Sylvia started to stir as soon as she turned, waking with a melodic yawn that echoed through the sky.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± she mumbled, as she rubbed her face against the qiligon¡¯s hair. It was one of her foxier behaviours, but perhaps because she was only half awake, she performed it in her humanoid form.


    ¡°Good morning, Sleepyhead,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Oh, shush. It¡¯s not my fault. Some of us actually need sleep, you know!¡± She stretched her back as she spoke, straightening it in a four-legged pose.


    ¡°I need sleep,¡± said Claire. ¡°Probably.¡±


    ¡°Sure you do.¡± Her joints finally loosened, she returned to her previous position with her arms wrapped around the flying serpent¡¯s neck. ¡°Just like how you need to breathe.¡± She tightened her grip just a bit and sealed her mount¡¯s throat.


    ¡°Stop that.¡± The moose prodded the fox with her tail. ¡°It makes it hard to talk.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just mad I¡¯m right.¡± Sylvia buried her face in Claire¡¯s mane again, rubbing her cheeks against it to her satisfaction.


    ¡°You weren¡¯t right,¡± pouted Claire. ¡°Just not entirely wrong.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± The fox¡¯s gaze turned skeptical.


    ¡°Really. I still need air to use my breath attack.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t count!¡± barked the foxgirl. ¡°And you can¡¯t even use it right now!¡±


    ¡°Yes, I can. It just hurts when I do.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s like someone with a broken leg saying that they can still walk!¡±


    ¡°They still can. It just hurts when they do.¡± Claire turned humanoid, wrapping her tail around the foxgirl¡¯s hand in the air as she flashed her smuggest smile.


    ¡°Now you¡¯re just being stubborn.¡± Sylvia puffed up her cheeks.


    ¡°Technically correct is still correct.¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you want to prove me wrong that badly, then you¡¯re going to have to catch me.¡± Sticking out a tongue, the willful princess released her favourite pet and dove right through the sky, initiating a game of tag that lasted until it was time for the shop to open.


    ___


    Claire Augustus


    Health: 477562/477562


    Mana: 8855702/8855702


    Divinity: 102765/102765


    Health Regen: 97.9/second


    Mana Regen: 2302.4/second


    Divinity Regen: 2.8/second


    Ability Scores - 29150 Points Available


    - Agility: 10269


    - Dexterity: 6668


    - Spirit: 9609


    - Strength: 69006


    - Vitality: 18448


    - Wisdom: 83471


    Racial Class: Caldriess - Level 504.46


    - Cataclysm Convergence - Level 135.10


    - Realm of Eternal Frost


    - True Ice Manipulation - Level 167.07


    Titular Class: Witch of the Seventh Tempest - Level 2.91


    - Catgirl Affinity - Level 25


    - Detect Vector Magic - Level 37.99


    - Essence Manipulation - 150.96


    - Heavenly Annihilation


    - Spirit Sorcery - Level 92.74


    - Vector Mastery - Level 673.59


    - Vector Resistance - Level 42.10


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 15


    - Cadrian Court Etiquette - Level 25


    - Digging - Level 7.14


    - English - Level 25


    - Fishing - Level 12.06


    - Llystletein Authority++ - Level 31.41


    - Marish - Level 19.76


    - Napping - Level 19.58


    - Singing - Level 19.40


    - Sneaking - Level 25.86


    - Weapon Mastery - Level 125.41

 Chapter 304 - The Bell Tolls III

    Chapter 304 - The Bell Tolls III


    Claire arrived in front of the shop roughly five minutes before it opened for its regular business. Technically, with Estelle living in the lab, it was never truly closed. A customer in need of urgent care could very well bang on the door until the perpetually tired doctor decided to respond. And in fact, that particular set of circumstances had played out on more than one occasion. Estelle was known for reluctantly accepting patients well past what could possibly be described as a reasonable hour.


    Just the other day, one of the pigs further down the road had accidentally chopped off one of his own legs whilst preparing the next day¡¯s stock. His brothers¡ªthe restaurant¡¯s co-owners¡ªimmediately rushed him to the hospital in the wee hours of the morning. It was not uncommon for such circumstances to lead to more work for the lyrkress. Estelle would only handle the patients¡¯ care for as long as she was awake, leaving specific instructions for their ailments in the absence of her waking mind. Of course, most patients did not require such careful, extended care. A few potions or healing spells could fix most problems on the spot, but longer-term status conditions were not so easily removed.


    Technically, all debuffs could wear off with enough time, but not all patients were willing or able to deal with them until said time frames elapsed. Specific ailments required specific cures, and not even doctors or healers could necessarily fix them on demand. Their jobs consisted of bolstering the victims¡¯ resilience and suppressing their most potent symptoms so they could outlast their negative status. The mixtures prescribed in such cases were typically anesthetic, calming, and perhaps anti-inflammatory, but they could not be simply applied and expected to work.


    Salves and patches required magically attuned third parties to carefully control the release of their medicinal properties. Too little, and the patient would not feel the medicine¡¯s effects, and too much would trigger unintended consequences worse than the problems the medicines were meant to treat. There certainly were military-grade variants that could function without such careful control, but their recipes were top-secret. Even with the necessary knowledge, they were not easy to produce. They required rare materials, the handling of which required equally rare equipment.


    Most of the people subjected to such potent status conditions were monster hunters, namely those tasked with eliminating highly specialized beasts. In Vel¡¯khagan, petrification was especially common. A newly discovered dungeon only a few hours from the city sported a number of powerful snake creatures whose stone gazes could kill if left untreated. By volume, the treatment of stone-faced guests served as the shop¡¯s third most popular product, following far behind the information brokerage in second.


    Fortunately, Claire found no overnight patients when she ventured through the door. In fact, she found no one at all. With no one to treat and her nightly brewing done, the doctor was sound asleep in her office, snoring the day away.


    The rest of the morning, likewise, went by without issue. Chloe bounced around the shop, removing all the dust she could find, Boris basked in the sun, and Sylvia curled up on the desk. Left to her own devices, Claire resorted to practicing her magic. They were just light exercises, conducted with the purpose of rehabilitation. She made tiny ice sculptures, messed up the maid¡¯s hair, and meditated at her desk for as long as her patience would allow.


    When her boredom reached its limit, she fell back on her newest hobby: wasting blank sheets of paper. Her drawings weren¡¯t awful per se. In fact, her dexterity ensured a somewhat decent outcome, but they certainly weren¡¯t worth the materials invested in their making. It wasn¡¯t correct to say that they were worth nothing¡ªthere was still an entire cult of mermaids obsessed with the collection and consumption of Claire-related goods and Pollux¡¯s deletion had only furthered their belief¡ªbut Claire was simply unwilling to sell them. There was no shame greater than associating her name with a set of inferior goods and intentionally putting them beneath the public eye.


    ¡°What are you drawing?¡±


    With all her cleaning already wrapped up for the day, Chloe approached the desk from behind and looked over the caldriess¡¯ shoulder. Though not quite proud of her work, Claire did nothing to hide it. She took a moment to narrow her eyes at the maid before leaning back in her chair and revealing her canvas. It was a sketch of a landscape, or more accurately, three landscapes packed into one. The sky was a forest, and the foreground featured something that was both a meadow and a marsh.


    ¡°A scene from a dungeon,¡± said Claire, with a frown. ¡°It would be clearer if it was coloured.¡± The whole thing was sketched in black ink. It was the only kind they stocked, so it wasn¡¯t as if she had much choice.


    ¡°None of the dungeons I¡¯ve been to looked anything like that,¡± said the maid.


    Claire paused for a moment to scrutinize the maid¡¯s expression. She scanned her face, carefully studying the individual creases before she decided to speak. ¡°You¡¯ve gone dungeon diving?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± huffed the human. ¡°I am a maid, after all.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that has anything to do with anything.¡±


    ¡°It has everything to do with everything,¡± said Chloe. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure what maids are like where you come from, but us Vel¡¯khanese maids are the cream of the crop. We have to go through vigorous training, and there¡¯s even an academy that specializes in maids and their courses. For the record, I graduated at the top of my class. I¡¯m a certified Grade A maid.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°Of course you did.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re doubting me. Maids never lie, right Sylvia?¡± The human turned her eyes to the freshly awakened fox, who was slowly stretching her grogginess away.


    ¡°Right,¡± muttered the vixen, with a yawn. ¡°Wait, what are we talking about?¡±


    ¡°Lunch,¡± said Chloe. ¡°I was asking if you wanted to try some of the fishcakes I made while you two were out on your morning flight.¡±


    While Claire was unamused, the mention of fish had Sylvia drooling up a fountain. Her sleepiness vanished in the blink of an eye¡ªthe exact same amount of time it took for the maid to produce a set of containers from beneath her dress.


    ¡°Is Stella awake yet?¡± she asked.


    Claire paused for a moment to listen before shaking her head. ¡°It sounds like she¡¯s still asleep. I don¡¯t know when she¡¯ll be up.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll set some aside for her then,¡± said the maid.


    There was a faint clang as she once again produced a series of impossible objects from under her skirt. Each of the four dinner-sized plates was accompanied by a full set of cutlery. The packages themselves were bundled up in pure white serviettes, each of which was tied in the shape of some sea critter or other.


    The maid¡¯s dress visibly lost a slight bit of volume each time she procured something from within. Somehow, to Claire¡¯s outright confusion, she was actively and stealthily carrying everything present on her person. None of it had made any noise when she walked around; the metallic pieces were invisible even to the lyrkress¡¯ ears.


    ¡°Keep staring like that and you¡¯re going to make me blush,¡± said Chloe, with her face flushed red.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a less genuine blush in my life,¡± muttered the moose. ¡°I literally watched you brush your face with makeup when you turned around.¡±


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    ¡°Details,¡± said the maid, with a dismissive wave. She served everything with her other hand, splitting the food into four less-than-even portions. Sylvia¡¯s, of course, was the most exaggerated. She had something in the realm of five pounds of fish on her plate. The few side dishes present were just there to cleanse her palate.


    The other three were given more regular proportions, with each person having a little more of their preferred foods than the others. There was even a pie set aside for dessert, half of which the maid would surely claim for herself. It was a wonder how she was still as thin as a stick.


    ¡°How come you always carry all that stuff around anyway?¡± asked Sylvia, between bites of fish.


    ¡°A real maid is ready for any challenge,¡± said Chloe, as she proudly puffed up her chest.


    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to her,¡± muttered Claire. ¡°She¡¯s spouting nonsense. Most maids are normal people, not deranged perverts carrying a hundred pounds of gear.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve clearly never flipped a maid¡¯s skirt then,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t, and I intend to keep it that way,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. My heart might belong to Ciel, but I wouldn¡¯t mind showing you two what I have hidden away from time to time.¡± The human¡¯s wink was met with a flick between the eyes. By the lyrkress¡¯ standards, it was still fairly light, but there was enough force behind it to leave a mark.


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ I¡¯m actually kinda curious now,¡± said Sylvia. She squinted at the human, only for her owner to grab her by the scruff and spin her around.


    ¡°No. Bad dog. No seeing through the stupid maid¡¯s clothes.¡±


    ¡°Wait, she can see through clothes?¡± asked Chloe. She shot to her feet with her face heated. Unlike the last time, it wasn''t just a silly prank. She was genuinely blushing.


    ¡°You can get embarrassed?¡± asked the caldriess, with a tilt of the head.


    ¡°Of course I can,¡± said Chloe. ¡°Do you know how shameful it is for me to be caught wearing panties as plain as these? At least let me change into some nice lingerie first!¡±


    ¡°Utterly shameless,¡± grumbled Claire.


    ¡°Mmmmnnn¡­ they¡¯re not that bad? I think they¡¯re actually kinda cute,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°The purple frills look pretty good with all the lace.¡±


    ¡°Aw, thank you, Sylvia.¡± The maid reached over the table and gave the furball a scratch.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe the two of you are bonding over the stupid maid¡¯s stupid panties.¡± Thoroughly confused, Claire set down her fork and pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°This is all Alfred¡¯s fault, isn¡¯t i¡ªwait a second.¡± She cast a suspicious glare across the table. ¡°How¡¯s someone that¡¯s never worn a pair of panties in her life supposed to be a fair judge?¡±


    ¡°Hey! That¡¯s rude! I wore them last week when we went to that clothes shop in that one desert town!¡±


    ¡°And how long did you wear them?¡±


    ¡°A whole five minutes!¡±


    ¡°Indecent.¡±


    ¡°Now you¡¯re just being mean,¡± huffed Sylvia. ¡°I told you like a million times already! Foxes aren¡¯t supposed to wear panties.¡±


    ¡°Of course not.¡±


    Ignoring the angry kit, who was playfully pattering her arm with her adorably fluffy paws, Claire directed her eyes at the box in front of her.


    Log Entry 849128


    You have been connected to World Chat.


    Claire: Is Alfred here?


    Alfred: Hello, Claire. Rather rare of you to seek me out yourself, isn¡¯t it? How can I help?


    Claire: Are foxes supposed to wear panties?


    Dorr: Excuse me, wtf?


    Dorr: Context?


    Claire: Arguing with my pet.


    Dorr: I¡¯m not really sure what that¡¯s supposed to explain¡­


    Alfred: Right, I can certainly see why the two of you might not agree. To put it simply, undergarments were initially designed as a solution to prevent discomfort. The goddess of chastity blessed them so that vulnerable, hairless mortals would be able to find a means of remaining decent in public without suffering from the chafing often produced by lower-quality clothing. In that context, there is little reason for foxes to wear clothes; they do not require any of the heat-related functions and their tails serve to preserve their dignity. The idea that we should wear clothes for warmth and comfort, however, exists largely in the past. Undergarments do not strictly exist to serve their historical contexts. Their main purpose has been transformed over time, and they are now considered first and foremost a means of seduction. Foxes, especially those of the Llystletein variety, are too long-lived to see any interest in regular reproduction and must resort to less natural means of encouraging their mates to take up arms, so to speak. That is to say that the answer to your question is yes. Foxes are absolutely supposed to wear panties. I¡¯ll advise on the precise styles shortly.


    Claire: That¡¯s unnecessary. Thanks. Bye.


    Log Entry 849129


    You have been disconnected from World Chat.


    Fully satisfied with the result of the half-second conversation, Claire triumphantly grabbed the fox¡¯s cheeks and tugged them as wide as they could go. When first subject to the unwarranted attacks, not too long after their meeting, the fox¡¯s fluff only extended to a reasonable length, but with a few months of training under her belt, her puffy face stretched nearly twice as far.


    ¡°Huh? What the heck is this for!?¡± cried the elastic vixen.


    ¡°I just asked Alfred,¡± gloated Claire. ¡°He said foxes are supposed to wear clothes.¡±


    ¡°He probably meant it in some weird, pervy way,¡± complained Sylvia, as her freshly relinquished face snapped back into place.


    ¡°That party trick is seriously freaky,¡± said Chloe. ¡°It really doesn¡¯t look like it should be possible. Are you using some sort of magic?¡± The human observed the dog for a few moments before her eyes suddenly lit up. ¡°Oh, right. Speaking of magic, did you manage that seeing-through-my-clothes trick you did earlier by casting a spell?¡±


    ¡°Mhm!¡±


    ¡°That means it¡¯s an enchantment, right? Can you cast it on other people?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ I think so? I haven¡¯t tried.¡±


    Claire¡¯s eyes narrowed suspiciously. She opened her mouth to change the topic, but the maid moved at an almost imperceptible speed. In just a tenth of a second, the human reached under her skirt and produced a box. She slammed it onto the table, and without a moment¡¯s delay, ripped off its lid to reveal another three people¡¯s worth of freshly cooked fish.


    ¡°Use it on me and this is yours.¡±


    ¡°Deal!¡± Sylvia opened her mouth wide before her pet could intervene and swallowed the container whole. That, however, was as far as she got. Claire seized her by the scruff and started stealing her mana before she could cast her spell.


    ¡°No. Bad.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on, Claire,¡± scoffed Chloe. ¡°What are you so worried about? You¡¯re naked half the time anyway.¡±


    The accusation earned the human a perfectly blank stare.


    ¡°I¡¯m talking about that big snakey form of yours.¡±


    ¡°I have scales.¡±


    ¡°Scales that don¡¯t leave much to the imagination,¡± said Chloe, with a wink.


    A disgusted look flashed across the snake-moose¡¯s face, but she refused to relinquish her fox. ¡°Either way. No means no.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnnn, I kinda already ate the fish, so I¡¯m gonna have to uphold my side of the deal,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Oh, I know! What if I make it so she can¡¯t see through enchanted stuff? That¡¯d mean your cloak makes you safe.¡±


    Still, the lyrkress shook her head. ¡°I cannot allow you to unleash something so evil upon the world.¡±


    ¡°It really won¡¯t be as bad as you think,¡± said Chloe. ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m planning to do anything too unbecoming with it.¡±


    Claire opened her mouth to voice her disagreement but stopped when her ears suddenly started to twitch. ¡°We should clean up. There¡¯s an interesting customer coming.¡± Her grip loosened as she spoke, just enough for the furball in her arms to squeeze free. She tried catching her again, but Sylvia evaded her claws.


    Chloe wasn¡¯t convinced right away, but a more serious look changed her mind.


    ¡°Okay, fine,¡± said the maid, with a reluctant sigh. She stood up and got to work, sorting the various goods off the counter just in time for the doors to open.


    Through the entryway walked a person with an eye-catching presence. It was so overbearing that Claire was able to identify him at a glance, despite having never seen him in person before.


    He was the god of hermits. And he had come to the shop as promised.

 Chapter 305 - The Bell Tolls IV

    Chapter 305 - The Bell Tolls IV


    The god of isolation entered the shop in an unassuming form. As a cuttlefish with a hat, a tie, and a cane, he hardly stood out from anyone else in the city. It was a disguise that worked perfectly on everyone but the rare few attuned to the powers of the divine. To Claire, his presence was stifling. The sheer weight of his divinity threatened to crush her underfoot as he slowly pulled his way across the wooden floor. It was far, far heavier than it was in his temple.


    Thanks to his size, it took the man a good minute to walk the distance. He wasn¡¯t very tall, just over half a meter from hat to mouth, and he had to shift his cane with every languid step. It was clearly an inconvenience, but he didn¡¯t seem to mind. Claire, however, was confused by the leisurely pace. The demigods and gods that she regularly interacted with were always busy with something or other. Griselda was the only one with any spare time, and even she was often preoccupied. In a perhaps ironic twist, given her history of planetary bombardment, she was responsible for redirecting the space rocks that threatened to strike the world.


    Her dominion over rockkind was governed by the same principle that allowed goblin kings to guide their armies. She was simply a superior variant with the power to command her kin, albeit one on an entirely different scale.


    The god of the abyssal depths was not quite as powerful, but he should have plenty of things to manage and consider; Claire had largely asked him to visit in person because she had assumed that he would refrain. It was clearly a waste of his time. Evidently, the deity was unconcerned.


    He greeted the caldriess with a cheerful smile upon finally arriving at the counter and even made himself at home by taking off his hat and setting down his cane. That, however, was effectively all he did. Perhaps because his social skills were lacking, the man simply stood around and awaited communication. Claire refused to greet him, however, leading to an awkward situation where both parties simply sat around and stared.


    ¡°Uhmmmm, hi.¡± A somewhat confused Sylvia broke the silence following a brief delay. ¡°Did you need something?¡±


    Having half broken into a cold sweat, the god was happy to jump at the chance to respond. ¡°Yes. I want someone dead.¡± He crossed his tentacles, pausing for a moment before looking up again. ¡°His name is Ignacio Alvarez, and he is one of the winter goddess¡¯ bishops.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°And you won¡¯t do it yourself because?¡±


    ¡°She would immediately decipher that it was my doing if I was to go in person,¡± said the god of darkness. ¡°I don¡¯t want to start a war. I simply want his existence brought to an end.¡±


    The lyrkress crossed her arms and scowled. ¡°So you want us to absorb the goddess¡¯ wrath instead? I refuse.¡±


    Aurora, the goddess of the frozen wilds, was no doubt cross with her already. The northern nations, like Cadria, were her stomping grounds, and she definitely had a temple or three in the dead marquis¡¯ domain. And given everything Claire knew about the goddess in question, there was hardly any chance that she didn¡¯t hold a grudge. Aurora was one of the pettiest deities there was; she was overly conscious of her unfathomably ugly appearance and anyone that happened to insult it would find themselves cursed in some way or other.


    Many considered the punishments justified, stating that they were meted out to the shallow, but in Claire¡¯s eyes, they were stupid and pointless. It was only really the naturally hideous that agreed with the goddess to begin with, but even they should have rejected her claims. There was no reason for Aurora to appear as masculine as she did. Though each had their preferred forms, the divine could freely adjust their appearances at will.


    ¡°I know it sounds like that, but it¡¯s not that simple,¡± he said. ¡°I would¡¯ve hired normal assassins if it was.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°He¡¯s nearly all the way through his third ascension, far beyond what most mortals can manage,¡± said the god.


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t see how that fixes the problem.¡±


    ¡°But you should, given the specifics of your background.¡±


    The caldriess furrowed her brow. ¡°Are you trying to say that he¡¯s Cadrian?¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± said the man, ¡°and that he accepts every challenge that comes his way. Slay him in an honourable duel, and I doubt the goddess will have much to say.¡±


    There was a brief pause as Claire considered her request. She moved just her tail, flicking it from left to right as she spun her wheels. ¡°I refuse. I¡¯m not going anywhere near that damned country.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Given his race, it was difficult for Claire to read his expression, but she was fairly certain that there was a certain smugness in his eyes. ¡°I will be back some other time then, to see if you change your mind.¡± And with that, he was gone. His body vanished, converting from mass to energy and dispersing into the air.


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ Claire?¡± Sylvia spoke up after a brief delay. ¡°What the heck was that?¡±


    ¡°What the heck was what?¡± asked the deadpan lyrkress.


    ¡°Why was there a literal god in the shop!?¡± cried the fox.


    ¡°A god? He was a god?¡± Chloe furrowed her brow. ¡°How could you tell?¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°You couldn¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°Not at all,¡± said the human.


    ¡°He had a really menacing aura thing,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯s the same kind you get around the churches but way stronger.¡±


    The maid raised a hand to her chin. ¡°Right. I don¡¯t think most normal people are all that sensitive to that type of thing, but as a maid I should probably¡­¡± Her voice trailed off into a mumble as she continued to work through her thoughts.


    ¡°So what the heck was all that about?¡± asked Sylvia again.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t feel like dealing with him earlier,¡± said Claire. ¡°So I told him to come to the shop.¡± It looked like Starrgort had a comment or two to make, but the lyrkress grabbed the mechanical spider and pushed him out of her peripheral vision. ¡°I don¡¯t really think it matters. I¡¯m going to keep refusing him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure that refusing a god is necessarily the best idea,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire. ¡°I never swore to him, and I never plan to.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± said Sylvia, dubiously. ¡°I think you might not be taking it seriously enough, but he didn¡¯t seem too mad, so I guess it¡¯s probably okay.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t a reasonable demand,¡± she said, with a frown. ¡°Going back to Cadria is too much of a risk.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s too bad,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I kinda wanna see what the place you grew up in was like.¡±


    Claire scratched the top of the fox¡¯s head with a frown. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t. There¡¯s a whole world out there and no reason for us to go back to Cadria of all places.¡± Her ears twitching, the lyrkress turned to the maid with a curious gaze. ¡°I thought you said you were staying for a week.¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± said Chloe, confused. ¡°What makes you think otherwise?¡±


    ¡°I can hear Marcelle,¡± said Claire. ¡°Which means Ciel is coming.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ strange,¡± said the maid, as she furrowed her brow. ¡°Normally she¡¯d let me know ahead of time.¡±


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    The maid stepped out of the shop, with the other two following right behind her. It didn¡¯t take long for the carriage in question to arrive. It swooped down through the air and parked itself on the street. The people beneath it only managed to get out of the landing zone thanks to the driver, who shouted for them to make way as he begged the manatee to descend.


    Surely enough, it was the royal carriage, and surely enough, the door opened to reveal the queen herself. One of the other maids was there with her, namely a slime girl made of a pinkish-purple goop. Her face lacked humanoid features, but Claire recognized her immediately as the person that often hung around while Arciel did her desk work. Her name was Myne, and she had a talent for being attentive.


    ¡°Get in. Quickly. The queen requires all three of you for an important, private conversation.¡± None of that attentiveness was on display, however. She grabbed all three of the people present with her cherry-coloured arms and reeled them straight into the coach.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± asked Claire, after magically locking the shop¡¯s door and floating a closed sign to its entrance.


    Arciel was pale¡ªthat was not a particularly unique or concerning circumstance in and of itself. The squid was always pale, thanks to her vampiric constitution, but her skin was even lighter than usual. More obvious than her lack of rosiness, however, was the troubled look that sat on her face¡ªnot to mention her presence. It was rare for her to accompany the maids on their excursions.


    The serious mood, however, was not shared by all that were present. Chloe and Sylvia were whispering under their breaths, with the human more panicked than not. She was flustered, with her eyes glowing, her cheeks flushed pink, and her gaze directed towards the floor.


    ¡°How am I supposed to turn this off!?¡± whispered the maid.


    ¡°Uhhmmm, just control it like you¡¯re controlling your mana,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯s pretty much the same as casting a spell.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a mage, Sylvia! I don¡¯t know how to control mana!¡±


    ¡°Wait, really? Aren¡¯t you like, really close to your second ascension?¡±


    ¡°How did you know? Wait, that¡¯s not relevant right now. My level has nothing to do with it. Maids are like rogues. We¡¯re basically purely dexterity and agility. My wisdom¡¯s only a few points higher than it was on the day I was born.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need wisdom! You just gotta feel it out.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not making much sense. How am I supposed to ¡®feel it out?¡¯¡±


    Sighing, Claire reached across the carriage, grabbed the maid¡¯s face, and drained her body of all its magic. Though shocked enough by the sensation to react with a startled ¡°Pgmrah!?¡±, the maid, whose eyes had returned to their usual shade, quickly assumed a more normal position and quieted down.


    ¡°Thank you, Claire,¡± said Arciel. The queen took a breath as she directed her gaze around the coach¡¯s interior. ¡°Now I am certain that you must be wondering why I have called for you so suddenly.¡±


    ¡°I was thinking we were just gonna have tea or something until I saw how stressed you looked,¡± said Sylvia.


    The squid smiled before lifting the fox off Claire¡¯s head and pulling her into her egregiously large chest. ¡°While I would certainly enjoy such an outing, this is not the time.¡± Still squeezing the furball with one hand, she produced the fan hidden in her sleeve and pointed it out the window. ¡°Cast your gaze upon the horizon and you shall see the cause of my concern.¡±


    Claire followed the tip of the fan and looked off into the sky, but she couldn¡¯t see anything obvious. The only thing she did note was the odd storm cloud, gathering in the skies a few cities away. ¡°I don¡¯t see how the rain could cause any major problems,¡± she said, with a tilt of the head.


    Her response threw Arciel for a loop. The squid slowly looked between the facepalming slime and the window before slowly rotating her fan so it pointed to the opposite side. Her cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red; they were even brighter than Chloe¡¯s.


    ¡°T-the north was to the left on the way here,¡± she said, with a cough. ¡°I did not realise that my recital would work against me.¡± The second line was spoken a little quieter, but Claire couldn¡¯t be bothered to tease her. She was focused on the horizon, looking beyond the sky. Even with her telescopic eyes, she couldn¡¯t see anything of note, but with the god¡¯s hint, and her friend¡¯s behaviour, she had an unfortunate clue.


    ¡°The Cadrian armada is coming.¡±


    ¡°Precisely,¡± said Arciel, with a frown. ¡°They were first sighted by the penhorns just the previous night. It is only a matter of time before they enter Vel¡¯khanese airspace.¡±


    Claire furrowed her brow. ¡°Did they use the scryer¡¯s orb?¡±


    Arciel nodded. ¡°A fleet of roughly thirty flying castles entered the edge of their vision early last night.¡±


    ¡°How far from the city were they?¡±


    ¡°The pirates saw them from Morosian waters,¡± said the squid.


    Claire took a moment to recall the surrounding geography. Moros, the country north of Vel¡¯khan, was an unstable kingdom ruled and populated by grugs. Though incredibly fertile, the maritime nation went largely uncontested by outside forces, courtesy of the eccentricities that came with the local species¡¯ twenty-day life cycles.


    ¡°How far away is that, exactly?¡± asked the lyrkress.


    ¡°Few days on turberus back?¡± said the squid.


    ¡°I said exactly,¡± muttered Claire.


    ¡°It¡¯s three hundred and twelve kilometres to the north if we¡¯re measuring the distance from the castle,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°Then they¡¯ll reach us tomorrow,¡± said Claire. The fastest Cadrian warships could reach cruising speeds of up to fifty kilometres an hour, but the heaviest and most well-armoured were unlikely to pass fifteen. Emergency situations aside, it was standard protocol for the army to match its slowest ships¡¯ speed. ¡°I should have left a clearer trail when I took Pollux¡¯s head.¡±


    She reached for the carriage¡¯s handle, but Arciel cut her off with her fan.


    ¡°Surely you are not planning to charge the fleet yourself?¡±


    The caldriess flashed a brilliant, toothy smile. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. I¡¯m just securing a means for negotiation.¡± Claire tried pushing past the fan, but one of Arciel¡¯s tentacles grabbed her wrist and held her hand in place.


    ¡°Oh, you most certainly do!¡± huffed the squid. ¡°We must first speak to their emissary. I doubt that they will begin their assault without an attempt at negotiation.¡±


    ¡°Any emissaries they send should be executed on sight.¡±


    Arciel raised her brow.


    ¡°Cadrian envoys don¡¯t negotiate. They declare war.¡± Finally moving her hand away from the door, Claire pinched the squid¡¯s cheeks and stretched her face. ¡°Idiot.¡±


    ¡°And they will not listen to reason of any sort? Would your word not suffice?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just a princess. Decisions are made by warriors.¡±


    The problem lay primarily with the soldiers¡¯ fervour. With how excited the nation¡¯s warmongers were, in the wake of her father¡¯s crowning, there was no way to convince them to simply turn the ships around. Her name might have been able to change their minds before they had sortied, but with their ships already on the way, they were unlikely to stop until they got a taste for battle. The brass would likely make up some story or other about the Vel¡¯khanese controlling her mind and order their troops burn the nation with even greater zeal.


    Given that there were only thirty ships, the deployment was most likely conducted without her father¡¯s permission. As per the old laws, Cadrian lords needed no such confirmation to move their armies. They were free to clash against both foreigners and each other, free to brandish their power however they pleased. Ferdinand¡¯s orders had kept them chained during the lattermost part of his rule, but Ferdinand was dead, and his dream had only joined him in the grave.


    ¡°The envoy will open hostilities and attack you no matter what you say or do, and the brass is going to act on the assumption that something horrible has happened to him,¡± said Claire. ¡°The only way to avoid an all-out clash is to provide a reasonable alternative.¡±


    ¡°Dare I ask why you might consider an attack a reasonable alternative?¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°It isn¡¯t. It¡¯s a show of force. They won¡¯t negotiate unless we shame them with defeat, but even that has to be done in moderation. If we blow all of their castles out of the sky and humiliate them, then the rest of the army will have to pick up the slack and prove that Cadria is mightier than Vel¡¯khan.¡±


    ¡°The logic is rather¡­ convoluted,¡± muttered Arciel, ¡°but I suppose I am not unable to rationalize it with the pride I have seen in the Cadrian people.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t overthink it. It¡¯s simple,¡± said Claire. ¡°Might makes right.¡±


    ¡°Wait, but if everyone just listens to all the strongest people, then shouldn¡¯t they just like, pack up their stuff and go home after you beat them up?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°How come you¡¯re still gonna have to talk after?¡±


    ¡°Losing a battle is hardly the same as losing the war,¡± said Claire. ¡°That¡¯s why we have to shame them. Let them taste battle and defeat so we can negotiate the shape that the rest of the war takes.¡±


    ¡°You truly believe that a longer-term conflict is unavoidable?¡± asked Arciel, with her brow furrowed.


    Claire averted her eyes. ¡°It has been.¡± She had at least tried not to involve Vel¡¯khan by handling everything herself, but she had known where her countrymen would lay the blame. ¡°Since I decided to kill Pollux.¡±


    Arciel put down her fan, and after a brief delay, leaned forward in the carriage and wrapped her arms around the caldriess¡¯ back. ¡°While I would have preferred that you had informed me of this particular consequence ahead of time, I understood from the treacherous marquis¡¯ actions that conflict with Cadria was inevitable. I would not have asked you to choose another path,¡± she said. ¡°But I do believe that you have made this choice with some manner of plan in mind?¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°I know exactly what to do.¡±


    ¡°Then I shall bear witness as you see it through.¡±


    Seeing the unrelenting smile on the queen¡¯s face, Claire reluctantly nodded her head, climbed out of the cabin, and replaced the manatee responsible for pulling the coach.

 Chapter 306 - The Bell Tolls V

    Chapter 306 - The Bell Tolls V


    The ships came into view after just a few minutes of flight. They started as distant dots on the horizon, but their forms became clearer as the distance continued to shrink. Each of the floating structures was a castle atop a pointed crystal, with different colours to represent their classes and designations. The massive blue castles were carriers, the vertical crimson cylinders were destroyers, and the sleek green arrows were dreadnoughts. None, however, stood out as much as the three white-cored motherships. Each was over ten times the size of every other castle; they were the homes of the lords at the helm of the operation, uprooted from their capital cities and transported abroad.


    Their banners made their identities clear. All three lords involved in the assault had territories that bordered the Pollux march.


    Two of them¡ªLord Ephesus and Lord Flaccus¡ªwere marquises themselves. Like Pollux, their domains interfaced directly with the neighbouring lands. The last was a count. As far as the court¡¯s structure was concerned, they were all on the same level. In theory, it was only the lands beyond their borders that differed, but in practice, the frontier lords were treated with greater respect. Given their mind-boggling tenure and their duty of guarding the nation¡¯s outer rim, it was only natural for their titles to bear more weight.


    However, while the marquises were certainly well praised, they were not commonly considered to be strictly superior. They were certainly more experienced when it came to keeping their neighbours at bay, but the outside forces were weaker than their intranational counterparts; territories with more dungeons often had troops with far greater combat experience and lords better versed in commanding them. The length of the marquises¡¯ careers was certainly worth noting, but they were not alone in their extended service. Even in single combat, they did not strictly rise above the rest, with haphazard estimates suggesting only above-average performance. It was difficult to say for certain. Unlike gladiators, nobles did not publicly release their status sheets, though the numbers would be difficult to interpret even if they did. Individuals could only be easily compared if the skills they possessed were, for whatever reason, exactly the same in all but level. And even then, the supposedly stronger individual would not always come out on top.


    That was not to say that the nobility refused to do battle. Decisions in court were settled more frequently through brute force than they were through logical debate. It was hardly the most effective method of government, but it had been ironed into its people through longstanding tradition. Such duels rarely ever ended in fatalities. The thrice ascended were durable, and with defensive builds like Pollux¡¯s as common as they were, deathblows were quite difficult to perform. More importantly, murder led to resentment. That was not to say that violently forcing one¡¯s rivals to submit was all that much better, but the resulting grudges were not quite as fierce as they were with an ally slain.


    Some were more often embroiled in duels than others. Count Titus, the neighbour sandwiched between Pollux¡¯s, Ephesus¡¯, and Flaccus¡¯ lands was precisely one such individual. The constant fighting allowed him to propagate his beliefs throughout the nation, despite the fact that he was typically looked down upon. Being a relatively new entry to the court¡ªa man of a mere three hundred years¡ªhis fleetfooted approach was tuned specifically for performance in duels. It was a strategy that only worked in the vacuum that comprised the court¡¯s proceedings¡ªhe was unlikely to survive the chaos of the battlefield with his defensive stats as low as they were. Still, the political system made it so he could have his way.


    His forward-facing attitude was made clear from their formation. Titus¡¯ mothership was front and center, leading the charge through the foreign airspace with its weaponry on open display. Seeing his banner renewed Claire¡¯s confidence; there was simply no way her father would have approved of a plan that entailed a foolish blind charge.


    ¡°So that is the Cadrian Armada?¡± Arciel climbed out of the coach and hopped onto the longmoose¡¯s back. ¡°It is certainly an intimidating sight to behold.¡± She sat with her heels down, like she was riding a horse. To the lyrkress¡¯ annoyance, it only made sense. In her true form, she was about the same width.


    ¡°It¡¯s just a small detachment,¡± said Claire. ¡°The real thing would be a thousand ships strong.¡±


    Arciel furrowed her brow. ¡°A thousand? Surely you jest.¡±


    ¡°Every small-time noble has his own ship. Higher-ranking aristocrats can have dozens to their name.¡±


    ¡°Woah. That¡¯s a lot,¡± said Sylvia, who was still captured in the squid¡¯s embrace. ¡°Imagine all the fish they could carry.¡±


    ¡°It would go bad before any reasonable person could consume it,¡± said Ciel.


    ¡°Mmmnnn, not really. I could probably finish a boatload by myself in an hour.¡±


    ¡°She said reasonable,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Wow! Rude!¡± cried the fox.


    ¡°Her words. Not mine.¡±


    When faced with the fox¡¯s questioning, unamused stare, the squid only scratched her ears and smiled. ¡°Now that we have drawn closer, might I inquire as to what it is precisely that your plan entails, Claire?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take down a mothership or two with my breath, make my demands, and then defeat anyone that tries to challenge them.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say that using your breath hurts?¡± asked Sylvia.


    Claire shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not that bad.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter how bad it is! If it hurts you shouldn¡¯t do it,¡± said Sylvia with a huff. ¡°It¡¯s not like it needs to be your breath anyway, right?¡±


    ¡°The attack needs to be powerful enough to break the ship¡¯s barrier and inflict enough damage to take it down.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnnn¡­¡± The fox stood up on her hind legs and looked beyond the horizon. ¡°What if I do it instead then?¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to get involved.¡±


    ¡°I know, but I do,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Things wouldn¡¯t have turned out this way in the first place if I did more than just sit on the sidelines. And besides! I helped you mess up that city, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    Claire closed her eyes, opening them again only after a few moments of silence. ¡°Fine. Just this once. All of the important parts are in the crystal. That¡¯s what you¡¯ll need to destroy. Make sure you take it down in one hit, but don¡¯t go overboard. It¡¯s better if most of them are allowed to live.¡±


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    ¡°Don¡¯t worry! I¡¯ve got just the thing.¡± She scuttled up the length of the qiligon¡¯s body and positioned herself on her snout. She was standing on her hind legs, with one paw to her side and another held in front of her. At some point or other, a wooden branch had appeared in her fuzzy grasp, a tiny twig that never would have stood out if not for the fact that the fox had never used it before.


    Ten magic circles appeared in front of her, each slightly smaller than the one next in line. The array was impressive, but the individual circles were relatively plain. Their shapes were simple pentagrams, the only runes they contained signified magnification, and they glowed in a uniform, scarlet red. It was arcane magic¡ªa spell backed by naught but an impossible amount of brute force.


    ¡°Alright, here go¡ª¡±


    Claire stole the fox¡¯s mana just as she was about to unleash the attack, disrupting it before its cast could complete and robbing it of its final result.


    ¡°Huh? What the heck was that for!?¡± cried Sylvia.


    ¡°You¡¯re using too much magic,¡± said Claire. ¡°I told you to take down the mothership, not mow down the whole fleet.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! It wasn¡¯t even that much. I barely used enough to break the barrier.¡±


    There was a moment of silence, with the fox blinking three times in confusion and the lyrkress lamenting her stubby arms. It was impossible to bridge the gap between her face and her palm without craning her neck.


    ¡°I believe that it is Claire¡¯s intention to inform you that the barrier is not quite as powerful as you have anticipated,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Huh? Really? I was only putting enough power into it to bust through something like the barrier around the city we blew up.¡±


    ¡°That one was powered by a leyline,¡± said Claire. ¡°Mobile barriers aren¡¯t nearly as strong. They¡¯re more like the one around Ciel¡¯s city.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ oops.¡± Sylvia innocently stuck out her tongue. ¡°Guess I won¡¯t be needing this then.¡± She put her stick back in her tail and raised both her fuzzy front paws instead. She only used three magic circles for her second attack, placing them in a triangular formation that spun as she filled it with power. ¡°Mmnnn¡­ okay that should be about right.¡±


    With a casual nod, the fox unleashed the arcane blast and dyed the sky in a brilliant red.


    They were still roughly twenty kilometers out from their target, but the spell had no trouble finding its mark. It pierced the bottom of the mothership in front and wrecked the battlecruiser right behind it as well, among a few other things and people.


    The attack was a product of the fox¡¯s quaternary class. Arcane magic may have seemed like a strange choice given the finesse exemplified by the rest of her build, but it was effective as a brute-force solution to the problems that her songs and vectors couldn¡¯t fix on their own. Soul warden was present for the same purpose, and though the legendary branch of magic was certainly effective in single combat, there was little to match the raw destruction that an arcane caster provided.


    Case in point, the two castles in the midst of falling out of the sky. They did not immediately plummet. Though certainly damaged beyond the point of repair, they descended slowly enough for the emergency escape vessels to fill and fire. They were crowded with servants and administrative workers. The soldiers themselves didn¡¯t jump ship until the evacuation was complete. The winged formed ranks in the air, while those still stuck on the ground did the same below. Lord Titus himself was the sole exception. Armed with a runecloak that allowed him to fly, the wingless rabbit joined the centaurs that lined the sky.


    The mage units took the front, with many of them lining up on the other floating castles¡¯ ramparts as well, but their retaliation never came. Spell ranges were supposed to be measured in meters.


    ¡°Amplify my voice,¡± said Claire, as she assumed her humanoid form. Her ear braces were turned into an accompanying suit of armour. She didn¡¯t want to reveal her identity. With all the confusion that it was sure to cause, the benefits were more trouble than they were worth. The coach and her riders were thrown off in the process, but they failed to share the mothership¡¯s fate. Supported by her vectors, they floated in the air behind her.


    ¡°Mmmk, one second¡­¡± Sylvia hummed a quick tune under her breath and enveloped her pet in a faint orange glow. ¡°Okay! It¡¯s ready.¡±


    Nodding, Claire further refined her armour as she floated towards the enemy lines. She obscured her ears with a pair of massive spikes, adjusted her visor so it was easier to see, and etched an intricate design into each of its parts¡ªspecifically in a style that was Valencian at its core.


    ¡°Halt.¡± Her words rang through the soldiers¡¯ minds, but not the area around them. It was quiet but heavy, spoken with an absolute, domineering confidence. ¡°Lower your weapons and return to your domains.¡±


    Unlike the city, which was less accustomed to enemy attacks, the fleet was largely unperturbed. Bards were key units on the battlefield, and there was hardly a veteran with no knowledge of their influence. But it was also precisely because they were aware of common bard abilities that they understood precisely how absurd it was for a mage to project her voice to each individual in the fleet¡¯s range. Still, the soldiers remained stoic, not stirring up a fuss as they awaited their masters¡¯ orders.


    A group of sensible leaders would have met to discuss their strategy, but the Cadrian warlords could hardly be labelled as such. Driven by his indignance, the count whose castle had fallen was the first to speak. Like the assailant¡¯s voice, his was amplified by a bard, but the Cadrian singer¡¯s technique was not quite up to par. He only magnified the sound, and poorly at that.


    ¡°And who are you to stop us from attacking the territories that have wronged our honour? Name yourself, vagrant! And prepare to die!¡±


    ¡°I have no name to give the likes of you.¡± Claire laughed, her dark, seething giggle echoing through the army¡¯s minds. ¡°But I daresay, you should know it, Lord Titus. It is truly a shame that you have fallen so low that you are unable to recognize my voice.¡±


    It was a ridiculous demand. Even before she had ¡®lost her voice,¡¯ Claire never said much in public. Living so far from the capital, Count Titus would have had even fewer opportunities than most to hear her speak. Their cultural norms only added to the absurdity. In the eyes of the warrior class, noble ladies were like flowers. Their lack of ascensions ensured that their lives were short, blooming and wilting as the men went about their regular affairs. It was only in their portraits that their images and images alone were ever preserved.


    That was not to say that there were no female warriors at all. A third of the standing army was of the fairer sex, but the ratio was further skewed when the upper classes were considered.


    ¡°A nameless warrior dares to criticize me?¡± She could practically hear the angry bulging of his veins. ¡°Know your place, Vel¡¯khanese mutt!¡±


    ¡°I would¡¯ve preferred if I was Vel¡¯khanese, but unfortunately, I share your Cadrian roots,¡± she said, calmly. ¡°If you were any more attentive, perhaps you might have noticed. But I suppose it would not be like you to see the truth. That was why you always failed to notice that the Grand Magus had no interest in your affections, after all.¡±


    The man¡¯s tail puffed up in a mix of rage and indignance. He had certainly made a number of advances on Allegra in the past, but it was not something that the public had ever known.


    ¡°I can still recall, as clear as day, the absolutely dreadful poem that you composed in her supposed image. It almost would have been funnier if she had replied.¡±


    ¡°Enough! You are spouting nonsense!¡± His voice was firm, but his spirit was shaken. The last thing he wanted was for his words to be repeated in front of his men.


    ¡°Unless your skill with the bladework is any more polished than your tongue,¡± said Claire, with an audible, snarky grin, ¡°I suggest you turn your army around. If you would rather not listen, then I am quite happy to field any objections as we might any other matter in court. Bring me your champions, and I will crush their spirits.¡± She floated towards the armada with a dagger-shaped Boris in hand. ¡°Just know that you will never win.¡±


    Count Titus gritted his teeth and tightened his grip around the base of his blade.


    She had injured his pride. The Grand Magus¡¯ friend or not, he would make her pay.

 Chapter 307 - The Bell Tolls VI

    Chapter 307 - The Bell Tolls VI


    Claire pursed her lips into a frown as she scoured the forest for a decent arena. There was nothing but an endless sea of trees. The only clearing between the fleet and the halfbreed was situated around a lake. The watering hole would have served as the perfect battlefield if her goal was outright extermination, but she needed to prove a point, and the terrain would only give her foes excuses.


    Left with little other choice, she picked a random spot and turned it into a ring. The hemlocks, birches, and maples were uprooted one at a time and flung in random directions. She could have completed the process with her vectors from afar, but she relied entirely on the strength of her arms. The less her enemies knew the better.


    It took roughly ten minutes to set up the arena and another ten for the Cadrians to converge. The shipless, flying division was the first to land, with a particularly angry count among their number. He was practically seething with rage, but he joined the others in silently awaiting the rest of the spectators¡¯ arrival. Duels were auspicious events and a common source of entertainment. It was only in good manners to allow everyone to see their fill.


    The spectators formed a ring, with many further mutilating the forest to better their personal perspectives. Those aboard the ship were hardly forgoing the spectacle. They were gathered on the ramparts, abandoning their stations just to get a closer look. They wanted to see what she could do. She had, after all, claimed that she would fell their champions. If not an overconfident fool, she would have to have been a warrior with some degree of skill.


    In her mind, she leaned closer to the former than the latter. She had certainly slain Pollux with relative ease, but he was a defensive supporter. While the man in question had certainly formulated the idea that drove the most effective warrior specifications, he was far from the epitome of what he proposed. At his core, the flagbearer was most fearsome when accompanied by a legion, not when he fought alone.


    The same could not be said of a true champion. The strongest duelists in the army were exactly that, duelists. They specialized in single combat, with their skills refined through long years of war. Still, Claire proceeded with utmost confidence. It wasn''t a choice. She had to stand tall if she wanted to shock her countrymen into submission.


    ¡°You will pay for your lies and accusations.¡± When the spectators finished gathering, the count was the first to rise to her challenge. The rabbit stepped out from a crowd of centaurs and drew a sword from his waist. The bright red ore used in its construction clearly revealed its nature. Like every other springrock blade, it was made to be as limber as a willow branch. ¡°I will fell you with my own two hands.¡±


    Claire raised her own weapon¡ªa Boris in the shape of a butter knife¡ªbut a third party stepped between them before the duel could begin.


    ¡°Father, wait!¡± The voice came from a slightly larger cottontail dressed in an officer¡¯s attire. ¡°Please allow me to fight this battle in your stead.¡±


    Claire remembered the boy. It was hard not to, given his rather striking appearance. He was a rare variant born of the otherwise common union of cottontail and thoraen blood. His form factor was still closer to his father¡¯s¡ªmost of his features were like that of a standard bipedal rabbit¡ªbut he had a stinger instead of a fluffy, round tail and six arms over the usual two. There was also a second jaw hidden inside of his mouth, but otherwise, he looked as any cottontail did. His name was Ignatius Titus, and he was the count¡¯s most likely heir.


    ¡°Her total level is barely five hundred,¡± he proclaimed. ¡°I¡¯ll win in three moves.¡±


    The count slowly lowered his blade. ¡°Very well.¡± He didn¡¯t like the idea of his son reclaiming his honour, but the boy was talented and needed a platform to make his name known.


    ¡°Thank you, Father. I will not disappoint you.¡±


    A grin appeared under Claire¡¯s helmet as she watched the half-bug raise his weapon.


    ¡°Begin at will,¡± she said.


    ¡°Gladly.¡± He rushed across the open field, but a vector mispositioned his feet and threw him off balance. He was sent crashing to the floor as the caldriess remained unmoving. He tried to get up, but he fell right back down on his face each time.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± asked Claire. ¡°Too scared to move?¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡± cried the indignant rabbit-bug.


    Though some of the soldiers had laughed at first, they realised, after his third attempt, that it was the fault of an enemy assault. She was doing something to stop him from rising to his feet. The men who served under the young cottontail were especially concerned. They were all well aware that he was hardly the laughing stock she had made him out to be. His low standing frame and his extra arms allowed for him to be far steadier on his feet than the average soldier.


    ¡°You should never have volunteered if you were such a coward,¡± said Claire theatrically. ¡°Now get up. Before I lose my patience.¡±


    His body almost seemed to snap into position as her words echoed through the crowd. He was forcibly raised to his feet with no input of his own; her vectors had simply coerced his skeleton into an upright position.


    ¡°Kneel.¡±


    Fear flashed through his eyes as his pose was altered again. He tried to open his mouth or raise his hand in hopes of forfeiting the match, but neither moved on his command. It was not as if she didn''t understand that he had lost his will to fight. That much was clear to every observer.


    ¡°Pathetic,¡± she said. She remembered the boy clearly. He had visited her home every time there was a public event, in hopes of receiving her father¡¯s tutelage. ¡°You claim that Virillius had personally taught you the way to hold a blade.¡± Whispers rang through the crowd. It was an event that Ignacio openly bragged about. ¡°Surely he must have reminded you that levels alone are not an accurate judge of power?¡± He desperately fought to whimper out a response, but his lips were still sealed, held together by a pair of powerful vectors. ¡°It''s a shame that you were unable to internalize any of his lessons. And I dare say that the punishment for such a crime is death.¡± She pointed her tiny butter knife right between his eyes. ¡°Kill yourself.¡±


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    He raised his sword to his stomach and slowly sank it through his flesh. He tensed his body in a last ditch bid to resist, but he was unable. Her vectors were stronger than his muscles. His wrists snapped beneath the weight of his resistance and his chest parted from his torso. And yet, though he was absolutely terrified, he somehow remained alive. Unlike his father, he was a pure warrior, built to the traditional standard. His training drove his blood vessels to extend from the two halves of his body, reconnecting the pieces as he collapsed in a pile on the ground.


    Fortunately for the man in question, the fear rendered him unconscious. He had managed to silently forfeit the duel before she could subject him to any more torment.


    ¡°Next.¡±


    There was no cheering, only a moment of silence as everyone watched the rabbit recover. The count returned to the ring before the process completed, kicked his son¡¯s half-healed body to the wayside, and drew his sword again.


    ¡°Cowardly fools, the lot of you,¡± he said, with a scoff. ¡°Mind domination is ineffective lest the target is caught unawares. There is no reason for any of you to fear, now that she has shown her hand.¡±


    The clash began in the moment to follow. Titus assumed the standard offensive stance that the Royal Cadrian Springblade¡¯s practitioners so often favoured and lunged at his highest speed. As a master of the style and the same precise race as its progenitor, he travelled at over thirty times the speed of sound. Or at least that was what was supposed to happen.


    When he tried moving his legs, he found that they were anchored to the ground. It was not the same phenomenon that had overwhelmed Ignacio. His feet were frozen to the mud, perfectly locked in place by a layer of true ice. He tried slashing at it, but his efforts failed to bear fruit. His sword was unable to scratch, let alone rend the impossibly hard material.


    The crowd grew abuzz when she willingly stepped into his range. He lashed out with a flurry of blows, but none pierced her defence. She parried every single one of his attacks with a tiny knife, warding them off with practiced ease.


    The man in question was thoroughly confused. His blade was being guided off course. It was not that she was intercepting his blows, but rather that they were drawn towards her tiny weapon in a way that he was unable to explain. He simply couldn¡¯t stop himself from walking right into the obvious trap that drove his humiliation.


    Before he knew it, his arms were frozen, tied like a prisoner¡¯s with shackles of ice. She stood behind him with another tiny knife in hand, held perfectly against his throat, just digging into the skin. He wanted to yield before he suffered the same fate as his son, but the point slowly dug into his flesh.


    ¡°You have lost,¡± she said. ¡°Turn your ships around.¡±


    The count snarled. ¡°Don¡¯t think for a second that you¡¯ve won. When the crown hears of this, he will only send more ships, more powerful warriors. There w¡ª¡±


    His words were interrupted by a bash to the jaw.


    ¡°Send another fleet and I¡¯ll drop a sword on every major Cadrian city.¡± Another chilling moment of silence. ¡°As you might suspect, I¡¯d rather not do something so horrible to my own countrymen. So I propose this, Count Titus.¡± It was a lie, of course, but with a strangely familiar icy weapon forming in the sky above, and its size swelling by the moment, the lie was easy to believe. ¡°Let us fight a war by proxy. Each side will choose their champions. And they will settle this through a sequence of duels.¡±


    ¡°Ridiculous,¡± he groaned. ¡°There is no reason for me to agree to your terms.¡±


    ¡°Think like that, and you will never earn your place by Vella¡¯s side,¡± she said, with a mocking sneer, ¡°for she is also the goddess of fair contests, and she derives no joy from unilateral destruction.¡± Claire looked him in the eyes, her own glowing red and gold through the slit in her helm. ¡°You have one month to decide,¡± she said. ¡°If I hear nothing by the fiftieth day, I will visit you in person and send you to your grave.¡±


    She drove the butter knife deeper into his throat before raising her eyes and scanning the crowd.


    ¡°Anyone else?¡±


    A thoraen glaivier stepped forward, but she was stopped by the goat and the deer that fell out of the sky. The warlords landed next to the count with annoyed looks on their faces and turned their eyes on the supposedly nameless knight.


    ¡°Marquis Ephesus, Marquis Flaccus,¡± she lightly nodded her head at each.


    ¡°If you knew who we are, then I¡¯d rather you didn¡¯t try and wrap up negotiations without us,¡± said Ephesus, the goat. The criocentaur was much shorter than most of his peers, standing at roughly the same height as Claire. He made up for his size with his massive horns, however. Each of the curved head blades was about as thick as his skull and three times as long. It was a wonder how he had managed to don his helmet at all.


    His intentions were only thinly veiled. It was clear, from the panic in his flattened slit eyes, that he didn¡¯t trust in the defeated cottontail¡¯s ability to negotiate a reasonable result.


    Claire shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve said everything I wanted to, and I have no intention of repeating myself.¡±


    ¡°It is not a negotiation if only one side lays its terms,¡± said Marquis Flaccus. The deer was larger than the other marquis, but he was still only two meters tall, far smaller than that of the centaurian average. He had white spots along his back and a small but puffy tail. His ears were large for his size, but like those of most other deer, they were too wide near the middle to appeal to anyone with a reasonable sense of aesthetics.


    ¡°You are mistaken, Flaccus,¡± she said, with a glare. ¡°I didn¡¯t come to negotiate. I came to make demands.¡± A chill ran up the man¡¯s spine. The icy look was just familiar enough that he felt like he knew it, but he couldn¡¯t quite say why. ¡°Abide by the war goddess¡¯ whims and face us in the arena, or fall to unilateral destruction. The choice is yours to make.¡±


    ¡°You have no proof that Vella woul¡ª¡±


    He cut his words short as a mechanical spider descended from the heavens. The living weapon, which had attached itself to Arciel¡¯s carriage without anybody¡¯s permission, was pulled directly into the lyrkress¡¯ armoured hands and presented to her foe.


    ¡°Is this proof enough?¡±


    It took a few moments for the shock to sink in.


    ¡°You¡¯re one of her chosen,¡± he muttered. The arachnid was a lesser gift, lower in rank than the divine spears granted to the king and his antecedent, but it was a gift nonetheless¡ªa weapon bestowed upon a warrior that had earned the war goddess¡¯ affections and confirmation beyond a reasonable doubt that the so-called nameless knight would enter the hall of heroes when her time came to pass.


    ¡°Then tell me, nameless, ¡®exalted¡¯ warrior.¡± While Flaccus wallowed in silence, Ephesus raised his voice with a begrudging frown upon his face. ¡°How do you see the shape of this war?¡±


    ¡°In the same way that feuds are always settled,¡± she said. ¡°Each side will produce three representatives to do single combat. The party with fewer victories will comply with one of the other party¡¯s demands.¡±


    ¡°And I don¡¯t suppose each duel¡¯s winner will be granted a say in the demand¡¯s fairness?¡±


    ¡°Precisely.¡±


    Ephesus scoffed. ¡°You dredge up all these old traditions, but work for the Vel¡¯khanese? I don¡¯t get it.¡± He stared at the slit in her helm for a solid few seconds before twisting his lips into a grin. ¡°You¡¯re practically asking to turn Vel¡¯khan¡¯s assimilation into a festival. You know what? Fine. We¡¯ll do it. But we aren¡¯t settling for three measly champions. This isn¡¯t some silly dispute between a pair of houses. Each of us is sending eleven. Take it or leave it.¡±


    ¡°My, attempting negotiations behind the king¡¯s back? How ambitious.¡± She narrowed her eyes. ¡°Let us defer the decision until we have heard Virillius¡¯ opinion. It is only when he is at the table that I will consider revisions.¡± She spread the wings on her ankles. ¡°Your point of contact will be the Vel¡¯khanese queen. Communications are to be directed to the castle in person.¡±


    Turning her back on the man, she took to the sky, and returned to the carriage that held her companions.

 Chapter 308 - The Bell Tolls VII

    Chapter 308 - The Bell Tolls VII


    Marquis Flaccus furrowed his brow as he watched the nameless knight depart. She flew on a pair of ridiculous wings. Located on her ankles, they should have thrown her completely off balance, but she glided off into the horizon without any distortions in her path. When she was out of reasonable earshot, he slowly turned to the shackled hare behind him and spoke as he furrowed his brow.


    ¡°What is the meaning of this, Lord Titus? Did you not ascertain that the destruction of Tornatus was the work of the divine?¡± He was all but outwardly scowling. The campaign was advertised to him as a free dose of glory, a chance to pick up the slack where Pollux had failed and avenge him along the way. But they had only been dealt the humiliating taste of defeat.


    ¡°It was,¡± said the cottontail, with a growl. ¡°It had to have been.¡±


    ¡°I probably should¡¯ve asked this earlier.¡± Lord Ephesus joined the conversation with a grunt. ¡°But how¡¯d you know a god was responsible?¡± He stroked his silky smooth beard as he examined the cottontail¡¯s shackles.


    Titus sucked in a breath. ¡°It was the churches,¡± he said. ¡°They were obliterated with the rest.¡±


    The marquises paused for a moment to ruminate.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s supposed to mean anything,¡± said Ephesus.


    ¡°Are you daft?¡± The count breathed a sigh and hopped to his feet. ¡°Churches and temples are protected by the gods. They are enveloped by thick layers of divinity that are capable of guarding them from hostile outsiders. To pierce a veil is to penetrate a defense constructed by a member of the pantheon. Do you know of any mortals capable of destroying even one temple in a single blow?¡±


    ¡°Our new king could pull it off, I bet,¡± said Flaccus.


    ¡°Perhaps, but Lord Virillius is an exception among exceptions. To use him as a standard of measure is to assume that we have transcended the realm of mortal capabilities.¡±


    There was a moment of silence as the noblemen deliberated the claim. Titus¡¯ argument was not without merit¡ªwith all of the achievements already under the man¡¯s belt, they would have been more surprised to find Virillius incapable of striking down a god.


    ¡°There is one problem with what you have proposed,¡± said Flaccus. ¡°Her presence lacked the overwhelming weight that a true god would have borne.¡± The tiny cervitaur spoke from experience. He was one of the lucky few that had encountered the goddess of the frozen wilds and walked away without earning himself a curse.


    ¡°Perhaps she was some sort of local deity then?¡± offered the count.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± said Ephesus. ¡°But with enough power to blow away a city, she¡¯s got to be more than just that. Maybe a guardian spirit, perhaps one ascended to the level of an aspect.¡±


    ¡°But if such a being existed, surely word of her would have passed through our ears?¡± wondered Titus.


    ¡°It appears that we require more information,¡± muttered Flaccus. ¡°It is in times like this that Lord Pollux¡¯s presence is most dearly missed.¡±


    In spite of his faults, the freshly deceased Minister of Foreign Affairs had been a competent man. Every time he invaded a nation, he would begin by learning of its mythos and traditions, for it was only by understanding them that he could see them overridden. The man himself had functioned as a walking calculator and encyclopedia in one, and his libraries had contained all the knowledge that he and his men ever gleaned. Alas, both had been lost to the Vel¡¯khanese assault.


    ¡°We will just have to make do without him,¡± said Ephesus. ¡°I am more worried for our own necks. The council is unlikely to let us off, given that we deployed without permission.¡±


    It was a problem born of their failure. No one would have complained if they managed to return with a new vassal state under their belts. But with the circumstances as they were, the three lords had brought the country nothing but a stain upon its reputation.


    ¡°The numbers are in, Pops!¡± An abnormally muscular cottontail, another one of Titus¡¯ sons, leapt through the crowd and rudely inserted himself into the conversation. ¡°I¡¯ve finished processing all the data. You won''t believe what I found.¡±


    ¡°Can this wait, Scorpus?¡± asked his father, as he brought his cuffed hands to his brow. ¡°We are in the middle of a discussion.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s relevant,¡± said the muscle-rabbit. ¡°I¡¯ve solved the attack that sank the Titan. It was an arcane blast that contained roughly four million points of mana, propelled at six hundred times the usual speed with heavily bolstered compression.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Son, bu¡ª¡±


    ¡°Now the part that¡¯s really interesting is that the caster cancelled a more powerful version of the spell before the attack was unleashed. We caught it on one of the scryer¡¯s orbs, but we were hit before the report could make it to the bridge,¡± he said. ¡°According to our measurements at the time, it was powerful enough to pierce the cities¡¯ shields.¡±


    Titus paled as his son continued.


    ¡°There were at least twenty million points of mana involved. Their estimated arcane mage level was roughly one thousand five hundred, total and racial levels are immeasurable from the few bits of data we have on hand. Whoever we were up against was powerful enough to take down the fleet. And here¡¯s the cincher. It wasn¡¯t the same person that froze your hands.¡±


    ¡°Not the same person?¡± Ephesus scratched the base of his horns. ¡°To think they were hiding not one aspect, but two? I am starting to see the reason behind the Eleven-Horned King¡¯s caution.¡± His words were filled with concern, but his lips were twisted into a smile. There was no rage, no fear, no anxiety in his voice, only a sense of excitement. In his old age, the marquis had mistakenly assumed that the continent was simply theirs to conquer, that there was no chance for anyone to stand against them. And for a fleeting, vanished moment in time, that was what he had oh so desperately desired.


    But the nameless warrior had reminded him of his mistake and realigned his understanding with that of his beloved goddess.


    War was only fun when it was not so easily decided¡ªwhen it was a struggle where both sides fought their hardest.


    And he would work to give them just that.


    With all the authority and influence at his disposal, he would compose a fierce song where powerful warriors would clash and fall.


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    ___


    Her armour still equipped and her chin resting in her hands, Claire watched silently as the Cadrian ships retreated. She wasn¡¯t quite satisfied with the outcome, but all things considered, negotiations had gone about as smoothly as they could. Vel¡¯khan wasn¡¯t on fire, the invaders were leaving, and no one was screaming for her father.


    ¡°Am I correct in the assumption that the resolution you have proposed was based in some Cadrian ritual or other?¡± asked Arciel.


    Like everyone but Marcelle and the violently deported Starrgort, the vampire squid was back in the coach, her eyes on the rear window pointing towards the north.


    Claire nodded. ¡°Dueling has always been a traditional method of settling arguments, but sometimes, just one duel isn¡¯t enough for both sides to be satisfied. So we add more.¡±


    ¡°It is certainly a rather Cadrian solution,¡± muttered the squid.


    ¡°Is that tradition something that has a name?¡± asked Chloe.


    ¡°Not an official one.¡± The caldriess slowly sank back down into her seat as her armour melted away. It was replaced by a frilly black dress that exposed the frown on her face. ¡°I¡¯m sure you heard, but the number of fights hasn¡¯t been decided yet, and I doubt you have eleven champions capable of reaching the Cadrian standard.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, I do not,¡± agreed the squid. ¡°It is rare for Vel¡¯khanese warriors to be thrice ascended, and even those that are may not be necessarily attuned for combat or willing to fight on the crown¡¯s behalf. Five is manageable if I am to include you and I, perhaps six if you believe that Meltys is up to par.¡±


    Claire breathed a sigh and leaned against the windowsill. ¡°Then I guess I have no choice but to convince my father of a smaller headcount. In the meantime, we should put together a list of candidates. We¡¯ll want to plan some sort of training regimen as well if we want to stand a chance.¡± She flicked her tongue. ¡°They¡¯ll be gathering the best warriors from around the nation, and the volunteers are likely to fight over the spots. Don¡¯t expect anyone lower than nine hundred.¡±


    Arciel pressed her fan into her forehead.


    ¡°I see now that I had previously misunderstood the level of performance that you were expecting. Claire, Sylvia aside, I do not think there exists a single individual in this nation capable of defeating an individual on the verge of becoming an aspect. I suspect that even you are likely to find the taste of defeat.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± said Claire. ¡°But there¡¯ll be a few months at least before the duels begin. We have time.¡±


    Arciel stroked the sleeping fox in her lap and took a deep breath. ¡°I do not see how it is even remotely possible to make up a four-hundred-level gap in a few measly months.¡±


    ¡°The whole world would be turned on its head if it was,¡± said Chloe. ¡°The system only works because it keeps getting harder to level.¡± She turned her eyes on Claire. ¡°Unless you start blowing up entire cities, of course.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t that hard.¡± The lyrkress directed her eyes northward. ¡°We just have to go somewhere that no one else will.¡±


    ¡°You cannot possibly be suggesting that we conduct our training within the Langgbjerns?¡±


    ¡°The final portion of it, at least.¡±


    ¡°And here I was thinking that you were sane,¡± muttered the squid.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think she ever has been,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°Mmmnnn, I dunno about always, but she¡¯s been like this for as long as I¡¯ve known her,¡± said Sylvia, as she groggily raised her head.


    ¡°Rude.¡± The lyrkress flicked the maid and the fox in turn. ¡°I¡¯m perfectly sane.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps I would be more inclined to agree had you not just suggested that we march to our deaths,¡± said Arciel.


    The Langgbjerns were considered uncharted territory. It was a dangerous domain filled with incredibly high-level monsters beyond any identifiable range. Cadria did send the odd expedition every once in a while, but the soldiers in question never dared to venture too far from civilization. Few that ever did would return alive.


    It was so impossible to traverse that Elysium¡ªthe land that lay beyond¡ªwas considered a myth. There was no record of contact. People only knew it existed because of oracles, technologies, and the whispers spoken by the gods. Claire was fortunate enough to have a rare first-hand account. She often saw it from space, but when placed on the same canvas as the rest of the world, the wintry landscape only failed to catch her eye.


    ¡°Are the monsters up there really supposed to be all that strong?¡± asked Sylvia, as she rubbed her swollen forehead.


    ¡°All the myths say that they¡¯re powerful enough to end the world,¡± said Chloe.


    Claire frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯re that bad. According to the reports, all the monsters are aspects. The weaker ones wander around in herds. The stronger ones are three or four thousand.¡± She flicked her tail around as she spoke. ¡°But those are just rumours. It¡¯s difficult to say how strong they really are,¡± she settled her eyes on the human, ¡°Whatever the case, we¡¯re going to need maids to help clean up.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you can take care of yourselves,¡± said Chloe, with a brilliant, beaming smile. ¡°Us frail, adorable maids would just freeze to death in environments like that.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you just tell me earlier today that ¡®a real maid is ready for any challenge?¡¯¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°I lied,¡± said the human without missing a beat.


    ¡°I suppose this is as good a time as any to ask, Chloe,¡± said Arciel, as she hid a devilish smile behind her fan, ¡°but might you have any idea as to why some of my undergarments have been going missing as of late?¡±


    The human froze, largely in part because there was a slimy tentacle wrapped around her neck, holding her in the air.


    ¡°Chloe! How many times have I told you to knock that off!?¡± cried the other maid.


    ¡°I¡¯m innocent,¡± she said. ¡°I gave them all back after I sni¡ªer washed them!¡±


    ¡°And was it your turn to do laundry that day?¡± asked Myne.


    ¡°It¡¯s never my turn to do laundry!¡± complained the human.


    ¡°Yes, for good reason,¡± grumbled the slime maid. She eventually let the human down and returned to her own seat with a curtsy. ¡°I apologize for the display, as well as her poor behaviour, Mistress, Lady Augustus. I will be disciplining the head maid at a later point in time.¡±


    Claire blinked. ¡°She¡¯s the head maid?¡± She turned an accusing glare on Arciel, who responded with a soft smile.


    ¡°Would you not agree that it would be nigh impossible to find another maid so loyal?¡±


    ¡°She is going to violate you in your sleep.¡±


    ¡°That just isn¡¯t true,¡± said Chloe. ¡°If I was to violate her, I would much rather do it while she was awake.¡±


    ¡°You see?¡± said Arciel, with a nod. ¡°There is no problem to be observed.¡±


    Claire was a little less convinced but pursed her lips and kept her complaints to herself. It wasn¡¯t her chastity at risk.


    ¡°That reminds me,¡± said the squid. ¡°Chloe, if you do choose to accompany us on this particular adventure, then I shall make you responsible for all of my laundry going forward, effective immediately.¡±


    ¡°Deal,¡± said the maid. ¡°Wait, you can¡¯t mean to say you¡¯re actually going? Shouldn¡¯t you be sending a warrior or proxy in your stead?¡±


    ¡°What choice do I have?¡± asked the squid. ¡°Do you believe there is anyone else willing to go along with Claire¡¯s insanity?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not insanity,¡± said Claire. ¡°And everyone you recruit will have to go through the same thing.¡± She sighed. ¡°The harder part will be convincing my father of a headcount and date. He knows I¡¯m here. I doubt he¡¯d be willing to entertain my suggestions.¡± She closed her eyes and leaned back into her seat. ¡°I¡¯ll speak with him now and let you know how it goes. Don¡¯t wake me up. You¡¯ll interrupt us.¡±


    ¡°Wait, how is sleeping supposed to accomplish that?¡± asked Chloe. ¡°Can Cadrians commune with each other through some sort of collective consciousness?¡±


    Claire flicked the maid with her tail. ¡°It¡¯s complicated. I¡¯ll explain later.¡±


    Lowering her ears, she engaged her napping skill and whisked her consciousness away.

 Chapter 309 - Pirates and Prayers

    Chapter 309 - Pirates and Prayers


    A cup of tea, a perverted guard, and an interim examination. It was a normal afternoon for the homunculus that had taken her place. Though Claire failed to understand the problems presented on the page in front of her, they at least looked less mind-numbing than the paperwork in which she was always embroiled. Fortunately, her assistance was not required. The fake wrote answer after answer in the original¡¯s perfect handwriting, filling out each question without stopping to think.


    While the homunculus was elated by Claire¡¯s presence, she maintained control and continued to focus on her work. It took her only ten minutes to fill out all three pages¡¯ worth of questions, but she spent another few checking over her answers. She didn¡¯t seem to find any mistakes, so she rinsed and dried her quill before placing it on her desk and pushing her paper towards her instructor. It was the same old bag that she saw back in the castle, even though they were still in the western lands. But though she appeared to be a functional teacher, based on the fake¡¯s extensive knowledge, neither of the two felt like she was capable of replacing Allegra. It just wasn¡¯t the same without her, even if Claire hated her lessons.


    ¡°Excellent work,¡± said the tutor. ¡°It seems that your understanding of the local geography is impeccable. Would you like to begin your next lesson immediately? Or perhaps enjoy a brief break for tea?¡±


    ¡°Apologies, Professor,¡± said Claire. ¡°But I would like to be excused for a second. There is something I need to see my father about.¡±


    The tutor was completely caught off guard by the sudden vocalisation. She could only stare and blink as the halfbreed rose from her seat, curtsied, and walked out the door.


    Frankly, Claire hadn¡¯t the faintest idea as to the manor¡¯s layout, but she was able to make out her father¡¯s location with ease. She could hear his voice echoing off the walls, coming from some conference room or other. With two maids following behind her, one of hers and one of Lord Decimus¡¯, she ventured through the manor and arrived in front of a door left ajar.


    Opting to stand outside, she waited for the men to finish their discussion on the taxation of hay. It was a terribly boring topic, wherein they talked about the various economic implications for what seemed like ages before finally coming to a pointless agreement whose terms both parties were sure to dance around. Her father stepped outside to greet her as soon as he was done and silently gestured for her to follow. Together, they walked down the hall and entered a study, likely the office that he had been temporarily assigned.


    ¡°Pollux¡¯s neighbours will be contacting you soon.¡± Claire broke the silence on her own accord. ¡°Through the council, most likely.¡±


    The man raised a brow. ¡°If this is about the sword that you used to massacre his citizens, then I¡¯ve already heard the reports.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°The sword that you used to massa¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°The sword that yo¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°The sw¡ª¡±


    ¡°I. Don¡¯t. Know. What. You¡¯re. Talking. About.¡±


    She met his unamused glare with a perfectly blank look.


    ¡°If this isn¡¯t about your childish outburst, then what?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what childish outburst you might be referring to, but Titus, Flaccus, and Ephesus happened to launch an attack on Vel¡¯khan.¡±


    ¡°Of course they did,¡± said the king, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°You repelled them then.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°Someone did. That someone also happened to suggest that we settle the score through a series of duels.¡±


    ¡°I would have chosen the same solution,¡± said her father. A grin crept its way up his lips. ¡°I will be willing to discuss this further if you attend at least one combat training session in person. There isn¡¯t much more to be gained from your proxied participation.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. The man¡¯s request appeared legitimate considering just the surface level, but his motives were unclear. Accepting came with the risk of capture. A simple mistake could leave her with no choice but to dance in the palm of his hand. She had to be careful.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she said, after a brief delay. Still, even in the worst case, she was confident that she could escape.


    Her father¡¯s expression was blank, but she could tell from the faint twitching of his cheeks that the answer had caught him off guard.


    ¡°Do you have time today?¡±


    ¡°I have already finished with all of my appointments. We¡¯re scheduled to leave the Decimus march the morning after the next.¡±


    Scowling, Claire returned control to the fake and escaped through a door in her mind. Only her father and the homunculus were left in the study, with the former still somewhat confused, and the latter entirely content. And for a while, that was how they remained.


    ¡°She should have at least specified a time.¡± Virillius broke the silence with a sigh. He walked over to his chair and ran his fingers through his hair, but a pair of tiny hands grabbed one of his legs before he could be seated.


    When he looked down, he found two of her fingers raised.


    ¡°Two hours?¡± he asked.


    She shook her head and made a pinching gesture, with her fingers just a little bit apart.


    ¡°Two minutes?¡±


    The homunculus bobbed her head enthusiastically. It was a bit jarring with her face as blank as it otherwise was, but he nodded along. Surely enough, she arrived before he could finish pondering the mode of her transport. A hole was ripped in the space in front of him revealing a scene with a distant sky, a fleet of fleeing ships, and an annoyed but familiar face.


    She had changed a lot since he last saw her in person, and not just in terms of outward appearance. Her demeanour had gone from that of a tiny, fearful creature to a seasoned killer with a bloodstained scent. But how could it have not, after she slaughtered an entire city¡¯s worth of people? He found equal parts pride and disappointment welling up from within his chest as he considered the feat. Because she was living proof of all his failures.


    The emotions were quenched in an instant, however. He made sure not to let them show on his face as he appraised her in more detail. Her scales looked slightly tougher than average, but nothing out of the ordinary for someone with three ascensions. Her total mana was absurd for her level¡ªher pool was nearing the size of his, despite her being a full ascension behind. But most curious of all was the non-negligible amount of divinity locked within her core. He could tell that she was actively suppressing it, but even then, it seemed oddly constrained.


    It was only that final aspect in which she eclipsed the demon that accompanied her. The fox-shaped abomination stood atop his daughter¡¯s head, with its copious magic leaking like blood from an open wound. The creature¡¯s sheer presence put him on guard without a moment¡¯s delay. The instincts bestowed upon all carnivorous moose confirmed that it was possible for him to kill it, though it was unlikely to go down without an extended fight. The demon¡¯s precise nature could not be immediately determined, but whatever the case, its very existence was downright unnatural. It was like one of the creatures from the north, a primal being whose will and strength served only itself. But what else could it have possibly been, if it was capable of ripping holes in the fabric of space itself?


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    Unlike the wary monarch, the homunculus ran over as soon as the guests stepped into the room. She tackled the real Claire with a hug, wrapping her arms around her waist and burying her face in her chest. The perturbed, older moose could only watch with a raised brow as his daughter welcomed the copy with a hug and gently ran her fingers through her hair. When Virillius tried to question her, he was immediately met with a silent glare that crushed any hopes of interjection.


    So, for a few moments, he watched, his mind still stirring with confusion. He had expected the homunculus to treat his daughter with animosity; the real Claire was practically a hostile entity as far as the replacement was concerned. She invaded her body and took it over so she could go about her selfish whims. That was always how he had seen the relationship between the two, but evidently, he was mistaken.


    ¡°Claire.¡± Both girls turned when he spoke his daughter¡¯s name, one curious and the other mildly annoyed¡ªthe homunculus was going to need another name. ¡°From now on, I¡¯d like to refer to you as Alpha and Be¡ª¡±


    A binder flew across the room, but he caught it before it could nail the bridge of his nose.


    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± said his real daughter.


    Virillius raised a brow.


    ¡°And we already have something for her,¡± continued Claire. ¡°It¡¯s Rubia.¡±


    She turned towards the homunculus, who immediately blossomed into a smile and responded with a happy nod.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter much to me either way,¡± said Virillius, ¡°as long as the two of you go by different things.¡±


    ¡°It matters,¡± said Claire. She took the satanic abomination off her head and handed it to the homunculus, who held it up and rubbed their noses together. They exchanged a few words of greeting, albeit with only the demon speaking as the girl pulled it into her chest. ¡°Now let¡¯s hurry up and get this over with.¡± The original stepped past her father and moved towards the window. The stained glass that shielded the study from the elements was supposed to be anchored in place, but it detached itself from the wall when Claire approached and exposed the room to the great outdoors.


    Though confounded, Virillius followed her, his giant frame barely fitting through the tiny opening. Claire¡¯s clothes changed as she moved, forming a thick suit of armour with a helmet that heavily obscured her face. It was a necessary precaution, pointless for guarding her body, but perfect for masking her identity.


    It didn¡¯t help that he made them the center of attention. Career soldiers and knights muttered to one another as they watched the pair land in an otherwise empty area. The homunculus and the demon followed, floating around in some sort of veil or other. He couldn¡¯t see them, but his sensitivity to magic allowed him to keep track of the spherical barrier as it floated through the air.


    ¡°We¡¯ll start with a light spar.¡±


    He grabbed a pair of wooden shortspears off the racks nearby and threw one to the girl. The weapons were two meters long and tipped with extended blades that stretched far enough to pierce a moose¡¯s vitals. Like the real things, they were fairly hefty. Their cores were made of metal rods to ensure that they were balanced correctly.


    The weapon was a little too large for the halfbreed, but she didn¡¯t seem to mind. She stood in the standard stance adopted by practitioners of the Royal Cadrian Godspear, with her left hip perpendicular to her foe and the tip of her weapon pointed straight towards him.


    When she charged, she did so lazily. He could tell that she put no effort into the rush, but she was still fast enough to eclipse the recruits that had gathered around them. Parrying the surprisingly heavy blow, and the accompanying pang of guilt, Virillius lightly swept her weapon away and responded with a textbook counter. Back and forth they went with the standard techniques, accelerating a little bit after each exchange.


    It was a pointless exercise. They were effectively going through the motions, confirming that the lessons she had taken in the fake¡¯s body had stuck. And in the first place, even that was a waste of time. Standard Cadrian spearmanship was meant for people with four-legged forms. With her body shaped like it was, shieldlance and springblade techniques were far more applicable. Still, she had insisted. Because familiarizing herself with Cadrian styles would better her chance of slaughtering its people.


    It wasn¡¯t as if he didn¡¯t recognize her motive. That was why she often disregarded the school¡¯s principles and attacked with wild swings. She was testing his reactions, learning from his responses, and developing countermeasures in the back of her mind. Or at least that was what he assumed. It was difficult to tell with how few cards she was willing to play. She didn¡¯t even use the things that he knew she had, perhaps to ensure that he wasn¡¯t made privy to the precise range and process of their function.


    He did, however, gain some insight as to the specifics of her ability scores. She was delaying her actions to throw him off, but he had already concluded, from watching the movements of her eyes, that her agility was likely between ten and thirty thousand, with the range stemming from the efficacy of her class. Most of her investment had evidently gone into brute force of both the physical and magical varieties. It wasn¡¯t the most optimal split¡ªpersonally, he would have opted to focus on one or the other, and make up the difference through the application of a concept¡ªbut neither was it entirely dysfunctional, assuming she had some way or other of ensuring that her attacks could land on target.


    Whatever the case, her dexterity was lacking. Her hands weren¡¯t deft enough for the more technical aspects of combat, and though she seemed fairly adept at reading his intentions, her punishes were not quite up to the par he expected. She was either hiding more of her abilities than he had otherwise assumed, or Pollux¡¯s death had been a team effort. Knowing his daughter, it was more likely the former. She was far too selfish to let go of her prey. Just as how he was too selfish to leave the mystery unsolved.


    Stepping just out of range of a horizontal sweep, he dug his feet into the ground and charged at a speed twice her apparent maximum. As was clear from the billowing green flame that suddenly encased his weapon, the attack was imparted with the property of severance. The wooden blade would take her head clean off her shoulders if she refused to react.


    Her eyes flickered, first to the spear, then to his face. She determined his goal in an instant. He could see it from the way she scowled under her helmet. They both understood. She had no choice but to play her hand.


    She suddenly accelerated to a speed that outpaced his swipe and closed the distance between them. It wasn¡¯t Haste or Windwalk¡ªneither rogue skill would have done the trick. The amount of force with which she kicked off the ground was disproportionate to the resulting thrust. The sand beneath her feet was barely distorted. There was something else at work.


    He continued to ponder the mystery as he twirled his spear and sent its butt crashing towards her shoulder. The added property was still in play. Though it was blunt, the end of the weapon could cleave her with all the same ease as its tip. And again, she moved unnaturally to evade it. The facade was there. She made it look like she kicked off the ground, but he could easily tell that no contact was made.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡± Moving at his top speed for just an instant, he grabbed her spear before she could retaliate and stopped her where she was. Any more, and he wouldn¡¯t be the only one that saw through her ability. ¡°Let¡¯s move on.¡±


    Claire seemed somewhat dissatisfied, but she released her weapon, stepped away, and wordlessly got into position to work on her forms. Together, they stepped through the standard motions, over and over, repeating them for each distinct weapon and style. The pace was much faster than it was when she possessed the homunculus¡¯ body, but it was still on the slower side. It was only her ninth session. She still needed the occasional reminder of all the things that the regular soldiers had ironed into their routines.


    ¡°So?¡± he asked, as they switched from swords to shieldlances. ¡°What exactly are your demands?¡±


    ¡°Three,¡± she said.


    Virillius paused for a moment to think. ¡°Three measly duels is hardly enough to appease our countrymen. You should know that. Even nine is cutting it short with how many will want to participate. The correct number is really much closer to thirteen, but they¡¯d likely begrudgingly accept a slightly lower number, given Vel¡¯khan¡¯s relative size and stature.¡±


    For a few moments, she was silent. ¡°Five then, but leaders are allowed to participate, and we won¡¯t demand any reparations following our win.¡±


    The rules typically banned the two parties¡¯ most important individuals from joining the fray. In the case of the usual family feuds, it meant that the clan¡¯s chiefs were barred from participating. And in the case of countries, it meant their sovereign crowns. She was giving him the opportunity to take to the field in person.


    ¡°Seven. Same conditions. Final offer.¡± Claire didn¡¯t respond, so the king continued to speak. ¡°My personal involvement will certainly silence some of the people¡¯s gripes, but even then, seven is as low as we can afford, given the scope of the conflict.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± said Claire, reluctantly. Finishing up the set of movements, she threw her shieldlance at him and stepped towards the observers. ¡°Seven it is.¡±


    She turned invisible as she entered the range of the demon¡¯s barrier, with both their presences vanishing following another moment¡¯s delay.


    Virillius didn¡¯t think nearly as much of it as the people around him at first. In fact, it wasn¡¯t until much later in the day, when the fake¡¯s tutors started looking for her, that he realised she had been spirited away.

 Chapter 310 - Pirates and Prayers II

    Chapter 310 - Pirates and Prayers II


    A fox-shaped hat stifled a giggle as she watched her favourite person perform a careful self-inspection. Claire checked everything. She examined her clothes, combed through her hair, and tested her magic circuits¡ªall in spite of the fact that there was no cause for concern. When done with herself, she moved on to examining the homunculus. She patted her down, squished her cheeks, and lightly doused her in mana, just to confirm the lack of adverse reactions.


    Only when finally done with the exercise did she turn to face the room¡¯s owner. Arciel¡ªwho had been teleported back to the capital some two hours prior¡ªwas watching with amusement from atop her throne, but the others in the room were not quite as entertained. Parliament had been called together for an emergency meeting; government officials from every key sector had gathered around a table for discussion, only for a certain unauthorized brute to pop out of a portal, interrupt the council, and completely ignore their silent demands. The royal guard¡¯s captain, who was present as the supposed security detail, was especially livid. He had marched towards her as soon as he spotted her, but alas, he was easily defeated. A vector kept him pinned to his post beside the door.


    ¡°I was not aware that you had a sister,¡± said Arciel.


    Shrugging, Claire released Rubia and replied with a nod when the homunculus silently asked for permission to inspect her surroundings. The blood golem nearly exploded with joy as she began examining the sandy, half-submerged room, bouncing from wall to wall like a child pumped full of sugar.


    ¡°He said seven,¡± said the caldriess. ¡°It¡¯s better than what I was expecting, but from what I¡¯ve seen, likely still impossible to win.¡±


    ¡°I suppose it was better than eleven,¡± said the squid, with a frown.


    ¡°Barely.¡± Claire stepped off the table, pushed two of the ministers aside, and made herself a seat of ice.


    ¡°Would you mind elaborating further? The rest of us haven¡¯t the faintest idea as to the topic of your discussion,¡± said one of the people whose chairs Claire had pushed. The floating starfish was Lord Moreau, the minister of finance, and a high-ranking commander in the revolution. She remembered him as one of the men responsible for leading the charge.


    ¡°Ciel didn¡¯t tell you?¡± Claire¡¯s question was met with a small shake of the head.


    ¡°We were discussing a less important matter whilst awaiting your return,¡± said the squid.


    Half the faces in the room paled as they processed the statement.


    ¡°Y-you cannot be serious, Your Majesty! There is an issue more serious than the possibility of a famine!?¡± The minister of agriculture, a treant with seaweed growing from his head, flapped his lips like a fish out of water.


    Arciel nodded gravely. ¡°As I am certain that many of you have already surmised, there happens to be a certain country that has found itself short a marquis. The poor centaur disappeared within the bounds of our lands, and his people have subsequently decided that there is justice to be served upon them.¡± She covered the bottom half of her face with her fan. ¡°Just earlier today, we repelled an enemy fleet. It was a veritable army made up of thirty airborne castles, nearly half of which were the size of the late Lord Pollux¡¯s craft, or perhaps further in excess. While we were able to momentarily put an end to the invasion, I regret to inform you that we have yet to emerge victorious. There are many more battles to come.¡± She paused to take a breath, during which no one dared to speak. ¡°Fortunately, we have negotiated a circumstance in which we will not find our lands bombarded by their ships, but it remains that Cadria has declared war by proxy. We are to select seven champions to engage the foreign nationals in a series of duels that will decide the outcome of the war. I understand that many of you may find this development utterly ridiculous, given the size of their army and the ease of our slaughter, but it is a tradition of theirs that we have every reason to leverage.¡±


    Murmurs shot through the room.


    ¡°I cannot believe they would do something as absurd as to pin the blame on us,¡± said the minister of foreign affairs. He was a withered old seagull with a patch over one eye and his bill slightly deformed. ¡°There might be hope in appealing against the decision. He was interfering with our local business structure without the consent of the crown.¡±


    ¡°Negotiation isn¡¯t going to cut it,¡± said Ray¡¯esce. ¡°He was only being as heavy-handed as he was because he knew that his people had his back.¡± The admiral-turned-prime minister¡¯s opinion was met with a series of nods. Having personally rallied more than half of the men in the room to her banner, his voice was nearly as well-respected as the queen¡¯s.


    ¡°That is how I have understood the circumstances as well,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Would you happen to have any other details, Claire?¡±


    The caldriess paused for a moment to think. ¡°No date has been decided, but it¡¯s safe to assume that we¡¯ll have the winter to prepare. Some of the strongest Cadrian duelists are thorae, and most of them hibernate through the colder months. No location was decided either, but they¡¯ll likely insist on the Valencian colosseum. It¡¯s where my father¡¯s always crushed his foes when they refused to meet him on the battlefield.¡±


    There was a moment of silence as the ministers absorbed the information.


    ¡°What will happen if we lose?¡± asked the minister of foreign affairs.


    ¡°It depends,¡± said Claire. ¡°Every warrior that emerges victorious will be granted a seat on a council that will discuss the final outcome. But really, it¡¯s not all that different from a traditional war. Cadria¡¯s goal is subordination. If they win outright, they¡¯ll likely request it. If not, then they¡¯ll ask for something to ease the process.¡±


    ¡°And if we emerge the victors?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°That¡¯s for you to decide,¡± said Claire. ¡°But if I had to guess, you¡¯re likely best off demanding reparations. Reverse subordination is impossible. The people will rebel, and Vel¡¯khan lacks the resources to bring Cadria to its knees by force.¡±


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    ¡°Your Majesty, surely you do not believe we are capable of sweeping the rug out from under our foes. If Marquis Pollux and his men were anything to go by, the Cadrians likely have us outclassed. This nation is home to only a select few individuals powerful enough to overcome foes so great,¡± said the minister of defense. He was a sea urchin, specifically one covered in rusty iron barbs.


    ¡°Whatever the case, I suppose it would be wise to begin with producing a list of individuals who might be willing to participate in this conflict,¡± the queen replied. ¡°I have written a number of names myself, but I am open to the consideration of any candidates that you may have in mind.¡±


    ¡°In that case.¡± The prime minister looked over his shoulder, at the maid always in charge of his service. ¡°I do have a few names lined up. Would you mind if I reported back first thing in the morning?¡±


    ¡°By all means,¡± said Arciel. She looked around the rest of the room. ¡°It is not only to Count Ray¡¯esce that this offer extends. If any of you have promising warriors in your employ, or find yourselves knowledgeable of such people, then refer them to the palace. If we wish to triumph, we must collect the most powerful individuals that this nation has to offer, for our foes will surely do the same.¡±


    ¡°If we are seeking the strongest warriors, Your Majesty, would it not be to our benefit to hold a public event? I am sure our citizens will be glad to heed the call should they find themselves with offers of wealth and power,¡± said the minister of defence.


    ¡°It¡¯s a good idea, but I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s worth the time.¡± Standing opposite the sea urchin was a portly shark with a monocle attached to his face. Known for his all-around good sense, he was a commoner that had quickly risen through the ranks and become the minister of domestic affairs. ¡°Weeks¡¯ll have passed by the time word spreads around the nation, and it¡¯ll take even longer for people to make time to travel and compete. If I had to guess, I¡¯d say we¡¯d need at least three months just to pick people out.¡±


    Arciel lightly tapped her fan against her chin. ¡°By the estimate that I have been provided, the journey on its lonesome shall necessitate the better part of a month. We have methods of circumventing it, but I would rather we obscure our hand. By that measure, we¡¯ve a scant five lunar cycles to gather and refine our forces, should we assume that the conflict will begin with the coming of spring. There is no time to spare.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s also risky,¡± said the pudgy shark. ¡°With how much time it¡¯ll waste.¡±


    ¡°But what else would we use the time for?¡± asked the minister of defense. ¡°The other candidates will continue to train in the meantime. I don¡¯t see what there is to lose.¡±


    ¡°Plenty of wasted manpower given the possibility of a famine,¡± said the minister of domestic affairs. ¡°The men that we pull away from the fields are men that¡¯d usually be fighting off the poor harvest. It¡¯s not like our vaults are full given everything that¡¯s happened recently. The treasury¡¯ll run itself dry before it can fill our people¡¯s stomachs.¡±


    The minister of defense curled his spikes. As much as he wanted to, the sea urchin couldn¡¯t deny it. The oversized kelpfin had a solid point.


    ¡°To think that Primrose¡¯s mind would darken at this of all times,¡± he muttered.


    The goddess of the harvest was a benevolent deity with a heart of gold. She expended her power each year, dispersing it across the lands to better the growth of crops of all shapes and sizes before finally hibernating the winter away. Every edible plant was affected by her magic, enriched and enhanced to produce more potent yields. But on occasion, her power would diminish. It was not a matter of waning faith, but rather a consequence of the goddess¡¯ mood. In some years, she felt brighter than others. In those, the harvests would be plentiful, with much extra to go around. But in others, she would feel dour and her blessings would weaken. Sometimes, the events could be understood and solved¡ªthe early death of a blessed child, a scuffle in the divine realm, or the refusal of her affections¡ªbut in others, they were mysterious, beyond any means of mortal understanding. And it was precisely one of those years that her believers had just forecasted.


    For those with primarily meat-based diets, it was hardly a problem. At most, they might notice a lack of herbs with which to season their sausages, or perhaps a lack of grain to accompany their meals. But for those that relied on the consumption of plants, it was quite possibly the end of the line. Life often hung in the balance; there was only so far they could stretch their resources without reducing the number of mouths to feed.


    Worse yet, when the crises struck, they were often global. It was rarely just from one area that the goddess¡¯ favour would vanish. Of course, the people were not so foolish as to not consider the possibility. Most communities had enough food squirrelled away to survive a few bad years, thanks to the usual generosity of the harvest, but Vel¡¯khan¡¯s coffers were hardly in the best of states.


    Queen Priscilla had spent the whole budget each year on programs to support the poor, and the little bit of cash retained for emergencies had already been blown on reforms, following the monarch¡¯s demise.


    ¡°While a significant prize will certainly function as a strain on our finances, It is not the potential for economic damage with which I am concerned,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I am most worried that it will be a wasted effort. We know most of those with power, and the few who have remained hidden are unlikely to rise on our behalf. There is little that this nation has done for its people. With only so little time passed since Priscilla¡¯s removal, we are effectively but a fledging nation yet to garner good faith.¡±


    In the first place, it was doubtful whether there were any powerful individuals hiding amongst the populace. The leviathan¡¯s dungeon was the only source of experience for fighters with higher levels. New trials did spring up throughout the land, on occasion, but none were challenging enough to cultivate any particularly potent talent. It was a fairly peaceful land, and while that was for the better when everyday life was concerned, it meant that the locals had little interest in the pursuit of power.


    The average Vel¡¯khanese citizen had zero ascensions. One in ten Cadrians had two.


    ¡°I suppose I do see your point,¡± muttered the metallic urchin. ¡°I doubt anyone that refrained from participating in the civil war will suddenly be appearing out of the woodwork. I apologize, Your Majesty. I appear to have wasted your time with this suggestion.¡±


    ¡°There is no need to apologize, Lord Rousseau. While the idea itself was refuted, it provided ample opportunity for discourse,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Are there any others with suggestions to share?¡± she asked, as she looked around the table.


    There was a moment of silence.


    ¡°Though I am without suggestions, I would like to request a point of clarification,¡± said the Prime Minister. ¡°How many of our opponents are projected to match Lord Pollux¡¯s prowess in combat?¡±


    Arciel lowered her fan to reveal a frown. ¡°I am afraid that Lord Pollux is not quite up to the par that we should be expecting. I will leave it to Claire to provide the accompanying details.¡±


    Everyone turned to face the lyrkress when the queen called her name, but she failed to respond in kind.


    ¡°So uhmmmm,¡± Sylvia, who was sitting on top of her head, stuck out her tongue and laughed. ¡°Claire¡¯s kinda been asleep for like ten minutes already.¡±


    It was a revelation that left the council outraged, but there was nothing to be done, no matter how much they shook her and screamed. For her spirit had long evacuated the meeting and joined a certain false flower in exploring the castle grounds.

 Chapter 311 - Pirates and Prayers III

    Chapter 311 - Pirates and Prayers III


    Sylvia hummed a cheerful tune as the group walked down the street. They were slowly making their way through the city, their feet carrying them towards the sun with each lighthearted step. Most of their movement was driven by Rubia, who was dragging Claire around by the wrist, investigating people, stalls, and shops in turn. It was her first time seeing the city during the height of its bustle. Normally, when she visited it during the early mornings, there were nowhere near as many people out and about.


    In a sense, she was doing the same thing she always did when she took up residence in her sister¡¯s tail, but with two feet of her own, it was far from the same experience. The lack of physical restraints allowed her to explore whatever caught her attention without the need for coordination.


    ¡°You know, your dad was actually a lot nicer than I thought he¡¯d be,¡± said Sylvia. She spoke the words from atop Rubia¡¯s head. Though slightly smaller and less comfortable, the newer chair¡¯s novelty was impossible to overcome.


    Claire scowled. ¡°You¡¯re a terrible judge of character.¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not!¡± said the fox.


    ¡°Your closest friend is a narcissistic psychopath.¡±


    ¡°If you know what your faults are, then you should fix them!¡± cried Sylvia.


    ¡°No. I like myself the way I am now.¡±


    ¡°I mean, I do too, but¡­¡±


    They bantered while Rubia looked through a stall, her eyes sparkling as she examined the fruits it sold. She didn¡¯t touch them, of course¡ªClaire had already pinched her nose and told her that she would be too full for dinner if she ate too much¡ªbut the unfamiliar shapes and colours held her rapt attention.


    There was a bright red melon in the form of a perfect cube, a large round fruit with a strange pattern scrawled across its exterior, and even a peculiar berry that changed colour depending on the angle from which it was observed. It was like a gemstone, shimmering in shades of red, purple, green and blue. The shiny fruits were certainly attention-grabbing, but they held her for only a few seconds before she moved on to a shop filled with swords and shields. Again, she didn¡¯t stay for long. In fact, she outright ignored the merchant that had happily called out to her and stuck her face into the water.


    Her eyes lit up when she looked through the canal. Sinking into the depths, and dragging Sylvia down with her, she dove straight at a fisherman peddling his latest catch, albeit not because she wanted to. She quickly discovered that swimming and walking required completely different skill sets, and her body was utterly lacking in the former.


    She fell straight to the bottom. If not for Sylvia, who grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her back up to the surface, she likely would have been there to stay.


    The homunculus-shaped distraction slowed their progress through the city. At the rate that they were going, they likely wouldn¡¯t make it home for another two hours. They stopped briefly on Fourth Street when they crossed it. It was only meant to be a quick detour, so the fake could peek at the shop from afar, but the crowd gathered in front of the building grabbed the group¡¯s attention.


    When they headed over and waded through the crowd, they found a gaggle of wealthy-looking sea creatures sitting out in front. They were tied up, with dunce caps on their heads and spider silk binding their mouths and limbs. Starrgort, their captor, was standing atop the pile triumphantly, while Estelle was slowly sipping at a flask of Stress Be Less.


    She didn¡¯t say anything in particular, but she was clearly angry. She bashed the prisoners with a long metal ladle every time they did anything at all. It was a humiliation that spurred a vicious cycle; they would try to speak in protest each time they were unreasonably attacked, which only led to another series of strikes. Several members of the city¡¯s guard were standing in the crowd, but none seemed interested in offering their assistance, in spite of the obvious assault and detainment.


    When she noticed Claire among the observers, Estelle immediately waved her over. ¡°They¡¯re your customers. Deal with them, won¡¯t you?¡±


    The victims started making noise again when they noticed the lyrkress, but she never faced or acknowledged them. She kept her eyes on the siren doctor instead and quizzically tilted her head. The fake inspected them in the meantime, lightly prodding at their cheeks and giggling when the veins in the foreheads threatened to burst.


    ¡°What the heck happened here?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°It¡¯s Claire¡¯s fault,¡± said Estelle. Having finished the first, she retrieved a second, identical portion from under her robe and downed it in a single gulp. It wasn¡¯t as if she needed it right at that moment. It was just a preventative measure for the headache sure to follow. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t shut up about her having summoned them. I told them to come back later, but they threw a fit and refused to leave,¡± said the doctor, with a yawn.


    The accused lyrkress took a moment to inspect the captives. She was almost tempted to ignore them. Leaving them out in the street would have been entertaining in and of itself, but after lightly touching the diary strapped to her waist, she begrudgingly approached and magically ripped the gag off of one of its members. Lia would have heard them out at least.


    ¡°I called for you idiots because you all asked me to kill the same person,¡± she said. ¡°And none of your children looked like they were poisoned.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because it isn¡¯t the type of poison you can see!¡± The chosen speaker, a middle-aged lady wearing a fancy dress and a string of pearls, shouted at the top of her lungs. She was an elf, albeit one that had mutilated her ears by inserting a massive, circular decoration into the otherwise perfect triangles. ¡°He¡¯s poisoning their minds!¡±


    Claire blinked. ¡°I highly doubt that. It would have to be a decently powerful neurotoxin for someone other than the victim to notice the effects, and none of your children were suffering any noticeable symptoms. You''re also all different species. I doubt the same substances would work on you in the same ways.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I mean,¡± she cried. ¡°He¡¯s poisoning their minds by feeding them lies!¡±


    ¡°How is that any different from speaking in half-truths?¡±


    The merchant bit her lips and lowered her head. At the very least, she seemed to acknowledge her own wrongdoing.


    ¡°Plea¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± said Claire. ¡°Leave.¡± She magically undid their ropes and pushed them down the street. Some of them tried talking, but her vectors tied their tongues and shut their mouths. She had already learned enough from their complaints. She would have to find some time to listen in on the man¡¯s supposed lessons to make a decision¡ªthough she highly doubted that any death would come out of the case regardless of what it was he preached.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Mrmphhh! Mmmnnhhh hmmhjhfmn!¡± complained a gagged fish.


    ¡°I said, I don¡¯t care.¡±


    The lyrkress could feel the irritation building in the back of her mind, but the person standing beside her pressed a chilly beaker against her face before it could boil over. When she looked at the concoction in question, she found a fresh serving of the doctor¡¯s emissively pink drink.


    ¡°You look like you need this more than I do,¡± said Estelle.


    Claire paused for a moment to double-check her expression, accepting the potion only after she confirmed that her face was every bit as blank as she had thought.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°Eh, it¡¯s nothing. I¡¯ve got a few vats of the stuff stashed out back. Just in case.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t her first time drinking the mesmerizing liquid, but Claire still hesitated before popping open the beaker and bringing the contents to her lips. It wasn¡¯t the taste that was the problem¡ªdespite its colour, it was earthy and sweet, like a tea made with a particularly expensive honey. Its effect was equally as unproblematic. The brew was just a light sedative that specifically targeted the associated receptors in the brain. It was such a tiny amount that it wouldn¡¯t have affected her had it been considered a toxin, but the substance¡¯s medical classification allowed it to bypass her defenses.


    She simply didn¡¯t like the idea of using a substance to make up for her own dysfunction. Once was enough. Any more, and it would leave a stain upon her pride.


    The drug covered her mind in a cool, refreshing blanket. Pulsing through her magical pathways, it calmed her thoughts and distracted her from the idiots at hand. But at the same time, it reminded her of a certain unpleasant dysfunction. She had spent the past few weeks looking for a way to fix her circuits, but the search had only ended in vain. Not even asking around had helped. Estelle had never seen her condition before, and neither had any of her associates. The gods, likewise, offered little in the way of advice. Flux had gone completely radio silent since her ascension, and Alfred, the steroid¡¯s creator and the man ultimately responsible for the adverse effects on her person, had only replied with a casual shrug.


    It seemed that she really had no choice but to sit around and wait for her body to heal.


    ¡°I heard about her,¡± said Estelle, her eyes on the fake inspecting the shelves. ¡°But I didn¡¯t think she was real.¡±


    ¡°They made her out of my blood,¡± said Claire. ¡°I doubt it was even all that difficult, with Allegra and my father joining hands.¡±


    ¡°Creating a homunculus is a lot of work regardless of the people involved,¡± said the doctor. ¡°Are you going to keep her around?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re putting her back tonight.¡± The caldriess closed her eyes and took a breath. ¡°She likes her life right now. I¡¯d be no better than my father if I tried to take it away.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re already killing people by the hundreds of thousands. At this point, it¡¯s pretty hard to say that the two of you are any different,¡± said the doctor, with a snarky smirk.


    ¡°That was one time.¡± Claire jabbed her tail into the siren¡¯s side, eliciting a faint groan of pain.


    ¡°How about resorting to violence less, to start,¡± offered the doctor.


    ¡°Shut up, Stella,¡± said Claire. ¡°No one asked you.¡±


    Cackling, Estelle shoved her hands into her pockets and started walking across the shop. ¡°I¡¯ll be doing the usual if you need me.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± muttered the lyrkress.


    ¡°Oh, and I almost forgot.¡± She stopped just outside the door to throw a bottle across the room. ¡°Try some of that. Honestly, I kinda doubt it¡¯ll do anything for your circuits, but it¡¯s supposed to be good for the flow of your magic,¡± she said. ¡°The only catch is that you can¡¯t uncork it. It stops working if you expose it to air, so you¡¯ve gotta swallow the bottle whole.¡±


    Claire blinked. ¡°Alright.¡±


    ¡°Do the usual meditation bullshit once you¡¯ve got it in your gut. You know, the stuff you used to do in the gym.¡±


    The doctor lazily raised a wing and waved it before vanishing into her lab.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Still, Claire muttered her appreciation under her breath. They were grasping at straws, but even knowing that it was likely in vain, she appreciated the effort invested.


    Setting the drink down on the counter for the time being, Claire joined the fake and the fox in front of a mostly empty map of Pria. Their most recent excursion had led the fairy to fill in a small speck far to the north. It showed a small castle, as well as the city around it¡ªin spite of the fact that they had never quite stepped foot outside.


    ¡°And this is where we went two weeks ago when Claire had to kill a funny mosquito-looking guy with a really shady beard.¡± Her index finger¡ªshe had swapped to her tiny pixie form¡ªwas pointed at a lake surrounded on all sides by dense, verdant forest. ¡°It was actually kinda weird. There were all these super buff farmer guys working on fruit trees. They could pretty much make them whatever size, shape, and flavour they wanted.¡±


    Claire frowned. ¡°I didn¡¯t like that place. Fruit is not supposed to taste like bacon.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnnn, I dunno,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I kinda liked it because of how crunchy it was. Oh, and the fish ones were pretty good too, but only when they were baked into the pies and stuff. It didn¡¯t really feel right for something that tasted like salmon to have so much bite.¡±


    Rubia¡¯s eyes lit up, but Claire shook her head. ¡°Maybe next time. We already have plans for dinner.¡±


    The homunculus pouted, but Claire stayed firm. She couldn¡¯t allow herself to be a bad influence on the developing child. The night¡¯s menu had already been settled. Chloe had giddily returned to the house a little ahead of the others with a bag of ingredients in tow¡ªRubia¡¯s presence had apparently motivated her enough to cook.


    As a homunculus, the fake didn¡¯t need to eat. She could easily subsist off of water alone, though the added proteins from a meat-heavy meal raised the efficiency with which she repaired her body. She did enjoy it, however, and she dearly missed the meals that they had prepared for her back in the Valencian castle.


    Perhaps driven by the praise layered upon her tea earlier in the day, Chloe had taken it as a sort of personal challenge to outdo the garbage produced by the incompetent chef employed at Decimus Manor. The human had made a claim about her pride as a resident of the Ryllian Sea, but Claire quickly wrote it off. She didn¡¯t believe for a moment that the maid cared much for matters of pride.


    ¡°One or two can¡¯t hurt,¡± said Sylvia. She began reaching for her tail, but Claire flicked her tiny forehead before her efforts could bear fruit and sent her tumbling across the room.


    ¡°No. Bad dog.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! It¡¯s not like it¡¯s gonna spoil her dinner. I snack all the time, and I still like my meals!¡±


    ¡°Unlike most normal people, you also happen to have a bottomless stomach,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Mmmnnnn, it¡¯s not entirely bottomless,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I think I could probably only fit like half of Llystletein. Maybe the whole thing if I really tried.¡±


    ¡°Which means it¡¯s functionally bottomless,¡± muttered Claire. Shaking her head, and looking down at the clone tugging on her sleeve, she found Rubia with a finger pointing at the middle of the sea.


    ¡°Oh! That¡¯s the place where we went on that one food trip,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I can tell you about it if you want,¡± added Claire.


    The homunculus nodded enthusiastically.


    ¡°Wait, wait, let me do it!¡± said Sylvia. She was already clapping her hands, forging an illusion with the resulting beat. ¡°I¡¯ll make it so she can taste all the stuff we had too.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll ruin her dinner.¡±


    ¡°I just said that I wasn¡¯t gonna!¡±


    ¡°And I didn¡¯t believe you.¡±


    Despite complaining, Claire loosely wrapped her arms around the fake¡¯s shoulders, rested her chin on her head, and lost herself in the fox¡¯s performance.

 Chapter 312 - Pirates and Prayers IV

    Chapter 312 - Pirates and Prayers IV


    Claire rested her face in her hands as she watched the strange contest in which Boris and the fake were engaged. It was the same game that he often played with Marcelle. They were running frantically around the garden, collecting various items so that they could compare, contrast, and determine a victor through a means that Claire simply failed to understand.


    In the interest of fairness, there was only one Boris actively collecting. The other three present were sitting side-by-side atop a small mound of dirt, supposedly poised to function as a panel of impartial judges. Claire wasn''t quite sure how that worked exactly. As far as she was aware, every Boris shared the same dysfunctional mind. Every clone shared the ikarett¡¯s three brain cells regardless of how many of them there were. The count was entirely inconsistent; the active number changed every single day. Sometimes, only the original would be present, but when he lost control, the headcount could balloon well beyond a couple hundred. There had been more than one occasion on which Sylvia had to repair the house, following an unexpected surge.


    That was not to say it was entirely uncontrollable. Having spent a full month denying his existence, Boris had finally become capable of dismissing the clones at will. That then begged the question of why clones appeared throughout the day in the first place. He never quite articulated the idea, even through the psychic link they shared, but Claire had more or less solved the mystery¡ªit was simply more relaxing to sunbathe in three bodies than one. Likewise, he enjoyed the sensation of waking up from a nap and would queue a number of sleeping clones just to experience it again and again.


    The home¡¯s other two residents joined Claire on the front porch right as her Boris-related contemplations came to an end. Sylvia was already half asleep. She was still in her fairy form, floating around with her tail functioning as the highest point in her frame. The rest of her body was allowed to hang like a jacket strewn over a chair. In all likelihood, the fox was only awake because the maid accompanying her carried a tray of evening snacks.


    The cake was supposed to have been their dessert, but with everyone but Sylvia having stuffed themselves full, they decided to delay it until later in the evening. Claire hated to admit it, but the maid¡¯s signature roast beef pastry¡ªthe entirely inappropriate name of which she refused to repeat¡ªhad taken her tongue by storm.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said the snake-moose, as she was handed a plate with a slice of cake and a cup of tea.


    ¡°You¡¯re very welcome,¡± said Chloe, with a smile. It was a calm, gentle look, a stark contrast from the perverted grin she wore when she was up to no good.


    Taking up a position right beside the lyrkress, she entrusted her weight to the railing and sipped from a cup of her own. Her raven black hair fluttered in the evening breeze, its colour shimmering in a deep shade of brown as the evening sun shone across it.


    When she noticed the lyrkress¡¯ gaze, all hint of grace vanished, replaced by a toothy, impish smirk. ¡°Like what you see?¡±


    Claire sighed. ¡°You¡¯d be such a good maid if you just stopped opening your mouth.¡±


    ¡°I get that a lot,¡± said the human, with a laugh. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s true though. Being true to myself is what keeps me motivated.¡±


    Again, Claire sighed. ¡°There¡¯s a time and place for everything. Idiot.¡±


    ¡°And is this not it? I¡¯m chatting with a friend over a cup of tea.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°What about all the fooling around you do on the job? And around Ciel?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say ¡®I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡¯¡± said the human, with a wink. That, of course, only earned her another cold stare, but she didn¡¯t seem to mind. If anything, she seemed to relish in its shivering chill.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think Ciel cares anyway,¡± said Sylvia, with a yawn. ¡°Mmmnnnnnn, in fact, I think she might like her better that way.¡± The fairy crawled over the edge of her cup and lapped at the liquid inside. ¡°Wow, this stuff is good.¡±


    ¡°I swiped it from the kitchen before we left,¡± said Chloe. ¡°We¡¯ve been getting it imported directly from the south. There¡¯s normally plenty of it to go around, but it might be a bit harder to get with the famine rearing its head.¡± She smiled. ¡°We¡¯ll have to squeeze Cadria for all the reparations it can possibly afford if we don¡¯t want everything to suddenly start sucking.¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯s everyone so sure there¡¯s gonna be a famine?¡± asked Sylvia, with a tilt of the head. ¡°Can¡¯t someone just cheer the goddess up or something?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes,¡± said Claire. ¡°It depends.¡±


    ¡°So just why is she feeling down this time anyway?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know,¡± said Chloe. ¡°She didn¡¯t tell any of the priests when they asked.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmrnnnn¡­ maybe we should go to her temple and try cheering her up anyway?¡± suggested the fox. ¡°I could sing and stuff.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not,¡± said Claire. ¡°It might be my fault. For blowing up the temple she had in Tornatus.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ right,¡± said Sylvia.


    There was a brief pause in the conversation, broken only as Starrgort scuttled out the door and climbed his way onto the table. The mechanical spider lightly thumped his legs against the outdoor desk as he spun a small web and wove a series of letters.


    ¡°Primrose is currently depressed because my mistress seduced the mortal that held her greatest affections and actively gloated about it in front of her.¡±


    Claire twisted her lips into a dark smile. ¡°So it¡¯s Vella¡¯s fault.¡±


    The spider trembled and immediately spun his web into another set of slightly shakier letters. ¡°Oh shit.¡±


    ¡°I guess I do have to pay the stupid bug¡¯s temple a visit after all,¡± she muttered, under her breath.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    That, of course, only unnerved the spider even further. He packed up his web, quite literally shoving it back into the orifice from which it had emerged, before skittering back into the house at his top speed. The message was loud and clear. What happened next was none of his business. In fact, none of it was any of his business at all.


    Still smiling, Claire turned her eyes back to the child frolicking about in the yard. Apparently, it seemed that the items she had managed to find completely trounced all of Boris¡¯, as the lizard was down in the dumps in spite of the fact that the judges were bursting with excitement.


    It didn¡¯t exactly make sense, but Claire wasn¡¯t about to complain. They were both having fun and that was all that mattered. She did, however, step in before the lizard could entice the fake into another match.


    ¡°It¡¯s getting late. Let¡¯s get you bathed and ready for bed.¡±


    It was a proposition that only earned a pout from the homunculus. She even pointed towards the sun, which had yet to sink beneath the horizon, and jumped in place a few times to show that she was full of energy. Still, Claire shook her head.


    ¡°Everyone¡¯s looking for you back home. It¡¯s better if we get you back before Bea gets in trouble.¡±


    Rubia paused briefly as the maid¡¯s face flashed through both their minds. Though still somewhat disappointed, she eventually nodded her head.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said Claire. ¡°The bath will be nice and long. And you can visit again some other time.¡±


    Taking the blood golem by the hand, Claire led her up the stairs and into the house, with everyone else following in a line behind them. Two of the members, she had expected. It was perfectly normal for Boris and Sylvia to join when it was time to bathe so that they could be pampered and scrubbed.


    The last person in the train, however, was not quite as easily accepted.


    ¡°Why are you following us, Chloe?¡± she asked, with a glare.


    The maid responded with a calm smile. ¡°Was I not supposed to? Helping out in the bath is par for the course, as far as maid duties go.¡±


    ¡°That only applies if the maid in question isn¡¯t a perverted freak.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re worrying too much, Claire. I¡¯m really not as bad as you¡¯re making me out to be. Sure, I might stare a little, but it¡¯s not like I¡¯m going to be sticking my hands where they don¡¯t belong.¡±


    The lyrkress pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°Perverted and way too honest.¡±


    ¡°Would you rather I lied?¡± asked Chloe.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather you were normal,¡± said Claire. She lightly prodded the other girl with her tail, using only enough force to mess with her balance.


    ¡°You know, I don¡¯t actually mind all that much,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°A little staring never hurt anyone, and Chloe¡¯s a lot of fun.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t the maid¡¯s only supporter. Even Rubia reached out and grabbed the hem of Chloe¡¯s sleeve. Her pout was hardly any different from Claire¡¯s own, but the lyrkress found it difficult to refuse her. Eventually, she begrudgingly heaved a sigh and acquiesced. ¡°Okay, fine. But you have to wear a blindfold and I¡¯ll punch you if you take it off.¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s what it takes for you to relax,¡± giggled the maid.


    And so the evening passed. Before long, the sun was beneath the horizon, and everyone was freshly cleaned. Rubia stood in the hallway, a Boris hugged to her chest and a fresh Vel¡¯khanese nightgown draped over the rest of her body. The portal was already open, and the room she borrowed was visible on the other side.


    She was hesitant to leave, however. She looked uneasily between the fox, the original, and the perverted maid as she reluctantly inched her way towards the portal. It wasn''t until Claire stepped through to the other side and extended a hand that her trepidation began to abate. With a gulp, the fake took the original''s hand, ventured beyond the veil, and crawled right into bed with the metal lizard still snuggly held in her arms. In the meantime, Claire took the homunculus¡¯ day clothes and placed them on the desk, where they could be easily found, before returning to Rubia¡¯s side and taking her hand under the sheets. Lightly, gently, she ran her fingers through her hair, waiting until she fell asleep.


    It was an event that was quick to pass. The homunculus and Boris raced to fall to the bed¡¯s devilish scheme, with the loser only a few seconds behind her new, iguana-shaped friend. Her mind was soon lost in its soft embrace, her breath slowing as her energy drained.


    Only when certain that the fake was asleep did Claire rise from the side of her bed. Smiling softly, she stuck a foot through the portal before whirling around with a twitch of the ears. Everything suddenly changed. Her muscles tensed, her eyes opened wide, and her expression distorted, going from one of bliss to rage as she raised her ears overhead.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire? What¡¯s wrong?¡± asked Sylvia, with a blink.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± she said. Her heart was pounding, but she slowly brought it back under control as she pulled the rest of her body through the portal. Right away, she moved towards the fairy, pulling the tiny creature into her chest as she gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. And for a while, that was how she remained. ¡°I heard one of Pollux¡¯s sons,¡± she said, after a long pause. ¡°One of the ones I recognized, at least.¡±


    It was difficult to say how many there were, exactly. The man had lived for over a thousand years, and his lecherous ways had caused him to sire a non-negligible number of children outside of wedlock, often when his wife grew too old to produce any more of her own. In total, there were at least three hundred people in Cadria attributed to him directly, and perhaps another few thousand if one was to account for the generations that followed.


    ¡°Are you gonna go kill him?¡± asked Sylvia.


    The lyrkress took a breath. ¡°Not today.¡± It was too risky in the middle of enemy territory. If she slipped up, and he called for help, she would be unlikely to get away unscathed, assuming she could get away at all.


    His most powerful men were deployed to the western front, but Decimus was still a marquis. He would not leave the security of his main castle so lax that a murder could occur unnoticed. There was always the option of opening a portal directly beneath the target, but that too would be seen and investigated, and the last thing she needed was for some master mage to spot and interpret the fox''s tricks. As Pollux had proven, prior to his death, there were countermeasures that sealed their ability to warp, and countermeasures that could be quickly engineered and produced to say no less. Whatever he had used to obstruct their teleportation had been potent enough to cover an entire village. She hadn''t tested it at the time, and the effects had faded upon her return, but there was a chance that it had the potential to negate vector magic in general. And if that were the case, then she would need to do everything in her power to prevent its recreation.


    ¡°Mmmk,¡± said Sylvia. The fox closed the portal behind her pet, flew over to the side of her head, and gave one of her ears a hug.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± said Claire. ¡°Stop worrying.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    Claire nodded before flicking Chloe, who was watching over them with a smug look, and dragging her feet back up to their room. Even just thinking about Pollux¡¯s kin had left her completely drained. With that said, it wasn¡¯t like she could simply join the fake in going to bed. She had an assassination slated for later that night, and she wasn¡¯t about to miss her appointment on account of some dumb horse whose death was set in stone.


    ¡°Did Stella give you any more information about tonight¡¯s target?¡±


    ¡°Nothing that would change your mind,¡± said Sylvia. She climbed up the side of the lyrkress¡¯ head and positioned herself on top.


    Claire sighed. ¡°Then let¡¯s go. The sooner we kill him, the sooner I can go to bed.¡±


    Assuming her true form and floating out the window, Claire set her eyes on the horizon and made off into the night. The usual start to a long night¡¯s work.

 Chapter 313 - Pirates and Prayers V

    Chapter 313 - Pirates and Prayers V


    Claire fluttered her way north while the sun rose off in the distance. The coast lay beneath her, slowly lighting up as she meandered through the early morning sky. She had been flying throughout the night, cruising along at a seagull¡¯s pace. The thousand islands scattered across the sea made up Vel¡¯khan¡¯s northernmost territory. Once governed by an incompetent Priscilla-aligned marquis, its ownership had since been transferred to the Penhorn pirates. Lana and Tessa Penhorn, the queens that lorded over the fleet, had been deemed the region¡¯s provisional governors, with equal power bestowed to each. As far as the official reports went, one was in charge of the land-based territories and the other ruled the seas, but the sisters themselves saw no such distinction. They put their minds together regardless of the problem at hand.


    It was behaviour typical of their species¡¯ members. Myraens, the tiny wolf-eared people, were always born in pairs. Though physically distinct, the twins were psychically linked. They couldn¡¯t quite share words from out of earshot, but all their senses and emotions were relayed regardless of the distance between them. By some biologists¡¯ accounts, the two were a single entity. Slaying each rewarded a log entry, but line of sight was all it took for one twin to revive the other and no experience was provided lest both lay dead at once. However, their consciousness was separate, they gained levels independently, and one could freely ascend without awaiting the other.


    Their properties meant that it was exceptionally difficult to kill a myraen pair, but their numbers were low enough that Claire had only ever seen four sets in person. Their species only assumed their fertile, adult forms for one week every three years and were otherwise incapable of reproduction.


    By Vel¡¯khanese standards, it was only really the Penhorns¡¯ captains that stood out as odd. The rest were like all the other sailors she spotted in the water beneath her. They were made of a hodgepodge of local species¡ªclams, lobsters, kelpfin, elves, and orcapeds, just to name a few. Most were ascended, thanks to the frequent combat they were exposed to on the high seas, and it was common for those with traditionally landlocked blood to land to pick evolutions that improved their function underwater. Hardly ever was there a veteran pirate incapable of swimming back to shore following their ships¡¯ destruction.


    Of course, with the gang-like structure that the pirates adopted, disputes between the various groups were commonplace. They frequently attacked one another for territory and revenge, and in some cases, they would even resort to violence for the sole purpose of asserting their dominance. One such example was in full swing directly beneath her. Two massive fleets, each roughly thirty ships strong, were going at it. The battle was well underway; it had gone through the night, with both sides blowing horns, firing cannons, and boarding each other¡¯s crafts in a desperate bid to emerge victorious.


    Claire didn¡¯t care much for their struggles, however. She flew right past them without even stopping to leech experience and scoured the seas for the only relevant banner. Though legally recognized, the Penhorn pirates continued to fly a distinct black flag. Two tiny, fuzzy paws were inscribed in white ink, with a pair of crossed daggers adorning the space between them. It was a nod to their leaders, in spite of the fact that neither specialized in the use of smaller arms.


    It took another few kilometres for the qiligon to spot the emblem in question. Cancelling her telescopic sight, she dove towards the cluster and dropped onto the flagship¡¯s deck. Though she was in her true form, she was only a speck when compared to the floating fortress. One could easily argue that such a massive object only made for an easily sinkable, irreparable target, but that was hardly the case. The primary Penhorn transport was a part of a twice-ascended turberus¡ªthe rooms, halls, and facilities were simply external organs.


    The sailors greeted Claire with nods and waves when she touched down. They were already well acquainted¡ªcomrades in arms that had fought beneath the same banner during Arciel¡¯s theft of the crown.


    Only one person, a particularly muscular elf lady, reacted with any sense of urgency. Knowing that no one else was responsible enough, she ducked inside the ship¡¯s interior and headed for the captains¡¯ quarters.


    Her concerns were proven immediately by Gaston, the first mate. He waddled right over to the guest with a fire lit in his eyes. His body held a curious shape. He was a halfbreed born from a swordfish and a hammerhead, with the shape of his skull conforming entirely to that of the latter. On land, he sprouted eight tiny legs. They were slightly longer than the average crocodile¡¯s and allowed him to walk around however he pleased. The front half of his body had a bend in it, resulting in a shape like a centaur¡¯s, albeit without any of the accompanying human-like parts. The six limbs that adorned his upper half were elongated toothless jaws¡ªfeatures that originated from his dagger-faced mother.


    Like most men of the sea, the sword-shark wore little. He had one cloth wrapped around his waist and another hanging off his neck. Both of the weathered rags displayed the Penhorn crest, but covered very little. A slight movement could easily lead to indecent exposure, but no one seemed to mind. Everyone was showing plenty of skin.


    ¡°Hey, been a while since you last stopped by.¡± He waved at Claire before looking over her body with a curious gaze. ¡°Is it just me, or did you shrink?¡±


    ¡°A little,¡± she said.


    The man¡¯s lips twisted into a grin. ¡°I hope that doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯ve lost your edge.¡± He started walking around her, clearing the area of debris as he continued to speak. ¡°It¡¯ll be a while before the captains wake. You up for a few rounds?¡± The rest of the Penhorns gathered around them, their fists and voices already raised in cheer.


    Claire nodded. ¡°Same rules as always?¡±


    ¡°You betcher ass.¡± The man started stretching his neck before turning around and shouting at one part of the mob. ¡°Someone get Olivier and his boys. It¡¯s time for them to earn their keep.¡±


    And then, brandishing all six sharpened arms, he kicked off the deck and charged. A headlong rush that lasted all of half a second before a tail sent him flying through the side of the ship and into the ocean below. The man was only one of many challengers; the Penhorns charged at her one by one¡ªperfect practice for her true form¡¯s martial techniques. Those that could still move following their defeats lumbered to the back of the line so they could ask for another bout, whereas those that couldn¡¯t were stacked in a pile just beyond the arena¡¯s bounds.


    The mound of defeated challengers had grown to the impressive height of fifteen meters by the time Claire first heard the captains. They slowly walked out from the ship¡¯s bowels. The pair wore matching clothes¡ªfancy pirate dresses and emblemed, tricorn hats¡ªbut they were easily distinguished both in terms of demeanour and appearance. Tessa, the more irate twin, had purple streaks through her shoulder-length bob-cut, while her earnest, bespeckled sister, who had her much longer hair arranged in a pair of braids, sported identical markings in red.


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    ¡°Good morning,¡± said Claire. She was seated next to the pile while Olivier, the ship¡¯s chief medical officer, hurriedly directed his men to and fro. She had created a lot of work for them, given the sixty-odd pirates she had downed over the course of her wait, but they didn¡¯t seem to mind. They were treating it as an exercise and emulating the behaviours they would have taken in a real emergency.


    ¡°Claire,¡± said Tessa, as she scanned the groaning, half-conscious pile. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s about to be a war.¡± Claire magically opened the pouch hanging from her neck and retrieved a letter from within. The government seal on the front glimmered in the morning sun as the document fluttered its way towards the pirate.


    ¡°Another war?¡± Lana looked over her sister¡¯s shoulder as she unravelled the scroll and exposed its contents. Together, they quickly scanned the page, with one sister thoroughly annoyed and the other somewhat curious.


    ¡°I doubt I need to explain,¡± said Claire, ¡°but Ciel wants the two of you to serve as champions.¡±


    ¡°More work? Really?¡± complained Tessa. ¡°Screw off. You can¡¯t just come crawling back to us the moment something goes wrong.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t crawl,¡± said Claire. ¡°I flew. Now hurry up and decide. I have more people to visit.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t something we can just decide,¡± said Lana. ¡°We¡¯ll have to decline if you keep trying to pressure us.¡±


    The snake-moose shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t really care. Neither of you are built for duels, and I¡¯ve never liked either of you much to begin with. I¡¯d be happy to do without you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to go through me if you want to take the captains,¡± said Gaston. He wobbled over on a set of half-broken legs with a pair of crutches under his shoulder and a bandage slung across his face.


    ¡°Did you not hear what I just said?¡± Claire turned an incredulous, exasperated look on the man in question. ¡°And I¡¯ve already gone through you. Twice.¡±


    ¡°Bet you can¡¯t do it again,¡± he said, as he threw up his crutches.


    The caldriess breathed a sigh before swiping her tail across the deck and sending the man overboard for the third time in half an hour. She was almost tempted to think that the pirates were Cadrian, given their love for battle, but it wasn¡¯t quite the same. Her father¡¯s people certainly believed in solving problems with violence, but combat itself was not necessarily the goal. It was simply the most effective method of conflict resolution, the results of which one could neither forge nor deny. There was certainly some glorification of the process, but it was really the destination and not the journey that mattered.


    ¡°Now hurry up and decide,¡± she said, as Gaston made a seven-hundred-pound splash. ¡°Are you joining or not?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t seriously think you can just dump this on us and expect us to agree,¡± said Tessa.


    ¡°It sounds like it could be fun to put the Cadrians in their places,¡± said Lana, ¡°but we¡¯re busy.¡±


    Claire cocked her head. ¡°Why would you be busy? All you do is steal things all day.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re fighting some fresh blood for territory,¡± said Tessa. She drew a pipe from her jacket and popped its golden rim between her teeth. There were no herbs inside the chamber, nor was there any source of flame, but smoke began drifting from its mouth regardless.


    ¡°Fresh blood?¡±


    ¡°The Kreente Pirates. They¡¯re from further east.¡±


    Mimicking her absent pet, Claire blinked exactly three times. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t the two of you be able to wipe out a fleet by yourselves?¡± From what she recalled, the twins were nearing five hundred.


    Tessa clicked her tongue. ¡°The fighting¡¯s hardly the problem. We¡¯d beat them easily if it came down to it, but their ships are too fast. We can never board them, and they steal our prey before we can even get to it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a real nightmare, and I hate to say it, but their tech has got us beat,¡± said Gaston, as he was hauled back up onboard. ¡°You¡¯d need to be able to fly to chase the fuckers dow¡ª¡±


    He suddenly stopped in the middle of talking and turned his eyes on the caldriess standing in the middle of the deck. And he wasn¡¯t the only one. Following the first mate, nearly every gaze on board suddenly found a certain Claire-shaped mode of transport.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a great idea,¡± said Tessa. ¡°You deal with them, and I¡¯ll let you borrow Lana.¡±


    Claire sighed. ¡°My stupid errand just spawned another errand.¡±


    ¡°This is why that queen of yours sent you, isn¡¯t it? So you could deal with shit like this?¡± said Tessa, with a hearty chuckle.


    ¡°Probably,¡± muttered the lyrkress.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go with her,¡± said Gaston. ¡°You know, so I can show her the way and who to kill and whatnot.¡±


    He moved to climb onto her back, but she smacked him with her tail and jerked away. ¡°At least put on a pair of pants.¡±


    ¡°How the hell am I supposed to find a pair of pants that fits this?¡± asked the man, as he pointed to his ridiculous, eight-legged frame. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m the first of my kind. I even had to name the race.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t know. Don¡¯t care. I¡¯m not letting a man in nothing but a loincloth and a bandana anywhere near my back.¡±


    ¡°Let me go then,¡± said Lana, stepping between them. ¡°I might as well prove that I¡¯m better in a fight than she thinks.¡± The slightly shorter twin had a glint in her eye and a sharp ring in her voice.


    ¡°Someone¡¯s bitter,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°And you aren¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Rather than lowering her body, so she could put the tiny wolfgirl up on her back, Claire used her tail to pick her up and throw her aboard. She was placed just behind the base of her neck, far enough that the qiligon¡¯s ears were out of reach. ¡°Where to?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll want to head straight east for now,¡± said the brat.


    Claire flapped her wings and began rising into the air, but she didn¡¯t launch herself through the sky. ¡°Did you forget your weapon?


    ¡°Do I need it?¡± she asked. ¡°I thought you could make whatever I needed.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Sylvia. Not me,¡± said Claire. ¡°Unless you don¡¯t mind something made of ice.¡±


    ¡°You mean the fox? Where is she? I thought the two of you were practically joined by the hip.¡±


    Claire turned her eyes to the southern horizon. ¡°Sylvia¡¯s busy today,¡± she said. ¡°Top secret fox business, apparently.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± The pirate queen frowned and continued with a shout. ¡°What the hell are you louts standing around for!? Go get my blade! And make it quick!¡±


    A group of three soon dragged the weapon out onto the deck. The giant axe was two meters tall, with a massive blade as wide as the girl that wielded it. The sharpened edge, which was adorned by a series of vicious-looking spikes, accounted for nearly half the weapon¡¯s length.


    It was absurdly heavy, but Claire didn¡¯t mind. She lifted it effortlessly with a vector, turned towards the east, and slithered through the sky.

 Chapter 314 - Pirates and Prayers VI

    Chapter 314 - Pirates and Prayers VI


    Claire flew for about an hour before the pirate called for her to stop. Retrieving a scryer¡¯s orb from one of her pockets, Lana sat up straight and focused her mana into the ball. The artifact reacted as soon as its circuits were full. They came to life, expanding the sphere threefold.


    The exact mechanism was outside the realm of Claire¡¯s comprehension, but the tool effectively compressed all of the surrounding sights into a single image and projected it straight into the user¡¯s eyes. That was why scryer¡¯s orbs were typically operated in groups. The artifact burnt out the retinas of its observers, necessitating a replacement following each soldier¡¯s temporary blindness. Such was the norm for military-grade devices. They were designed with the expectation that the soldiers using them were Cadrian, and they would be able to quickly regenerate any functions lost to the artifacts¡¯ effects. It was a measure that made it more difficult for other countries to capture their technology, as most foreigners were too pain-averse to become well-versed in active regeneration. Lana, however, remained unflinching. She stared into the light for a solid five minutes before casually putting it away.


    ¡°They¡¯re about fifty kilometers to the north-northeast,¡± she said. Following the wolf girl¡¯s fingers provided no clear identifiers. Claire didn¡¯t know how far fifty kilometers was exactly, and there were far too many ships sailing the open seas. There were even more of them out east than there had been near the shore, coming and going in all different directions. Summer was when the surrounding nations did most of their maritime trading. There weren¡¯t as many storms as there were in spring or fall, and more importantly, the seas weren¡¯t frozen over. The end result was a boatload¡ªor rather many boatloads¡ªof traffic.


    It didn¡¯t help that, unlike the in-combat pirates she had spotted earlier in the day and the legally exempt Penhorns, most hid their black flags until they identified a target to raid. In such a populated area, the pirates were much better off blending in and picking their prey than aggressively threatening to chase them down.


    ¡°How can you tell?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°I recognize their ships,¡± said Lana. ¡°They¡¯re the smaller pointier ones that still technically fit into the privean class.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to point them out when we get closer,¡± said Claire. It may have made sense to a sailor, but to Claire, the description was nonsense. She could tell that the ships were different sizes, of course, and it was easy to pick out the turberus-drawn boats from those propelled by sails or oars, but that was about the extent of her knowledge.


    ¡°Should I sink them?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Sink the two smaller ones,¡± said Lana. ¡°Let the last one get away. We need them to show us to their base.¡±


    ¡°So like with bandits then.¡±


    ¡°Pretty much.¡±


    Claire put a little more strength into her wings and accelerated towards the ships. They were far enough away from the capital that she had become an unusual sight. The sailors raised their eyes as her form was called to attention. Most stared curiously, but some were fearful enough to point their bows and ballistae towards the sky.


    Their targets were in that latter category. They had their weapons trained on her before she began her descent, but to little avail. She couldn¡¯t even be bothered to dodge. Sharp as they were, the arrows bounced right off her scales without inflicting a hint of damage. The pirates tried shooting their cannons at her as well, but they had to rip the weapons off their stands to get the right angle. And by then, it was too late. She crashed down on the first ship¡¯s deck, snapping its hull and sending it straight into the sea.


    She turned her eyes on its brethren, only to find them already in the midst of escape. They suddenly accelerated, boosting their speeds ten times over. The driving mechanism wasn¡¯t clear. The ships had no oars, and it wasn¡¯t like the winds had suddenly changed. Still, they only continued to accelerate. She could see why the Penhorns struggled to pursue, especially if their targets were given more advance notice. But Claire didn¡¯t share their problems. She magically pulled the smaller boat in the direction opposite its movement. It didn¡¯t suddenly stop or reverse. Unwilling to strain her circuits, she only used enough power to slowly sap its speed away.


    A quick hop later, and the menace was upon the second ship.


    Three cannoneers unleashed their weapons as she landed, but she barely felt it when they struck her. They felt more like flicks than real attacks. Her scales were dirtied by some of the soot that accompanied the violent explosions but otherwise remained unscathed.


    Somewhat annoyed, she struck the gunners with her tail, breaking the people and armaments in a single fell swoop. Lana leapt off her head in the meantime. She wrecked the ship¡¯s mast with a swing of the axe and jumped into the fray with her weapon dancing. Her blows were heavy but graceful, performed with none of the wild abandon that axe warriors typically embraced.


    Her careful evasion nearly convinced the lyrkress to change her approach, but she continued disregarding the enemies¡¯ attacks after a moment of consideration. Even ignoring the goddess¡¯ voice, which revealed that the pirates were only between level fifty and a hundred, she could tell that they were too weak to use as practice. Their swings and stabs were haphazard, completely lacking in any notable technique.


    Their elimination was such a boring chore that she couldn¡¯t bother to be thorough. She put her front talons together and smashed the ship, cracking through its hull and shattering it to pieces. Grabbing only the still-rampaging wolf, she threw her on her back and lazily chased after the final transport.


    For her, it was more of the usual¡ªher targets often employed some gimmick or other and ran for their lives¡ªbut the pirates were nowhere near as nonchalant. The unit¡¯s commander, a catgirl by the name of Larisa, was especially panicked. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she held the ship¡¯s wheel and engaged the pedal that served to control its speed.


    The Paunsean had never exactly wanted to be a pirate in the first place. In fact, just a year and a half ago, she had been a normal village girl, but the security in her nation had loosened when war broke out. Her hometown was raided; she had been kidnapped by a group of foreigners and sold into slavery abroad. Her pretty face allowed her to escape death by hard labour, but the work she was assigned was hardly any better. She served as a courtesan at an expensive brothel, where she eventually met and charmed the pirate that had bought out her contract and provided her freedom. He was the captain of the Kreentes, and he had made her both his lover and a key member of his crew.


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    And so came the present day. She had gone from kidnapee to kidnapper, doing unto others as they had done unto her. The guilt never quite left her, so when she saw the giant, sparkling creature, she couldn¡¯t help but think of it as punishment delivered by the gods themselves. She didn¡¯t know what it was. But its form had imprinted itself into the back of her mind and inspired a deep fear in her heart¡ªits hide was so tough that no weapon could pierce it, and its eyes were cold enough to show that it would slaughter them without remorse. But somehow, in spite of its gripping terror, she found the monster enchanting. Its scales glimmered in the morning sun like the gold of a crown and its piercing gaze shone like the jewels that adorned it. Even just seeing it for a moment robbed her of the ability to get it out of her head.


    ¡°What the hell was that thing!?¡± she muttered, with a shiver.


    ¡°No clue. Never seen anything like it,¡± said the man standing beside her. He was her second-in-command. Those were the official designations, at least, but everyone knew the truth. It was really the second that controlled the ship. Etienne was one of Captain Kreente¡¯s most trusted men, assigned to the ship to make up for her inexperience and inadequacy. ¡°But I think it¡¯s safe to say that it¡¯s out to get us. The girl on its back was one of the Penhorn sisters.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re telling me they managed to tame that?¡± said the catgirl. ¡°It was strong enough to snap a ship in half!¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter if it can¡¯t keep up,¡± said Etienne, as he looked to the rear. The beast was nowhere to be seen. ¡°We can still outrun it, so we don¡¯t really have to change up our strategy. Assign a few guys to watch the skies, and we¡¯ll be good.¡±


    ¡°Can I leave that to you?¡± she asked, as she spun the wheel. They were headed back to headquarters. The captain needed to know the news.


    ¡°Aye,¡± said the man.


    He stepped away from the helm, leaving the catgirl with her thoughts as she continued to navigate the seas. Their base was located in the middle of the sea. Specifically, it was set up on a ring-shaped island in a shallower patch of ocean. The location was one that most larger ships were unable to reach. Twice-ascended turberi could still climb their way over, of course, but there was hardly such a thing as a fleet with more than two.


    Larisa¡¯s heart calmed as she directed the ship towards the dock. They were safe at home. The whole island was a massive stone fortress, lined with guns much more potent than those aboard their ships. There was a mix of physical and magical cannons, dug up from the ruins within the island¡¯s underwater core. They were powered primarily by the leyline that ran right through it, and it was that same leyline that had prevented them from being found so far. The excess magic it gave off was released into the air as fog; the area was almost impossible to navigate without specific knowledge or explicit instruction.


    Breathing a sigh of relief, the catgirl docked the ship and hopped onto dry land. She didn¡¯t bother shouting any instructions at the men. They already knew what to do.


    She waited for Etienne to catch up before heading inside the stone fortress. A few turns later, they were in the dining hall, where the captain was merrily drinking the day away. Like Etienne, he was a lizardman, specifically one of the radioactive variety. For the most part, his grey scales were smooth, but a large crest erupted from the tip of his head.


    His arms took the form of a pair of giant wings, with tiny hands growing out of the middle. They were without function when it came to wielding a weapon, but they served greatly in his everyday life, allowing him to bring his mug to his massive jaw. In truth, she despised the man, but she put on her best lovestruck smile and greeted him with a wave.


    ¡°Kreente!¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯re back!¡±


    The man didn¡¯t say anything, only nodding as he waved them over to the seats beside him. There were already drinks on the table, still in their bottles with their corks intact, but neither Larisa nor Etienne immediately helped themselves. In spite of the wine¡¯s high quality.


    Seeing the unusual behaviour, the captain set down his own bottle and creased his brow. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°The Penhorns attacked while we were on our way back from a raid,¡± said Etienne. ¡°One of their captains managed to tame a strange flying beast tough enough to ignore all of our weapons. The orum class managed to outrun it, but it got both of our priveans. I don¡¯t know how much stamina it has, but we¡¯re going to need to start watching the skies.¡±


    Larisa bit her lower lip. ¡°I think it might¡¯ve been some sort of divine beast. It was so strong that it snapped one of the priveans in a single strike.¡±


    The captain¡¯s eyes gleamed. ¡°What¡¯d it look like?¡±


    ¡°It was long and slender and its body was covered in thick scales. Most of its body was white, with a faint hint of blue. It was kind of like a snake with legs and wings.¡±


    ¡°So like the thing standing behind you?¡± asked the captain.


    Larisa laughed. ¡°Oh, come on. I¡¯m not falling for that one.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m serious,¡± said Kreente.


    Gulping, Larisa slowly craned her neck and found a serpentine creature standing right behind her. Her whole body froze when she met its looming gaze. The only hint of movement was the shiver that made its way up the length of her spine.


    ¡°I would¡¯ve assumed you noticed it following you,¡± said Kreente, ¡°but I guess it doesn¡¯t matter. This just makes it easier to settle the score.¡± He stood up and grabbed the giant chainsword leaning against the table. ¡°You made a mistake marching in here alone, Penhorn. Did you think we were running away because we wouldn¡¯t kill your asses?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I think,¡± said Lana, as she grabbed her axe.


    She leapt off her mount and prepared to engage with the momentum of her fall, but there was a thud before she could swing her weapon. Where there was once a lizard-shaped pirate, she found only a limb covered in silvery scales. And where there was once a wall, she found an equally lizard-shaped hole.


    There was a brief moment of silence, with Lana slowly looking up at Claire, and the lyrkress not bothering to respond.


    ¡°What the fuck was that for!?¡± Kreente screamed as he pulled himself out from the hole. ¡°Face me in a fair duel, coward! We fight one on one, goddammit! Them¡¯s the rules of the seas!¡±


    ¡°I am just as confused as you are,¡± said the tiny wolf.


    ¡°The two of you were taking too long,¡± said Claire. ¡°So I fixed the problem.¡±


    ¡°We just started¡­¡± said Lana. ¡°I hadn¡¯t even attacked him yet.¡±


    ¡°You wasted thirty seconds talking,¡± complained Claire.


    ¡°Yes, bu¡ª¡±


    ¡°And there¡¯s not really much of a point in talking when both of you are idiots.¡±


    Again, there was a moment of silence, with both pirates slowly looking up at Claire, and the lyrkress not bothering to respond.


    ¡°Hey, Penhorn,¡± said Kreente. ¡°Whaddya say we join forces and teach this thing some manne¡ª¡±


    A thud rang through the hall before he could finish his sentence, accompanied by a second lizard-shaped hole and a third moment of silence.


    ¡°And so, the Kreente Pirates were subdued,¡± said Claire. ¡°With no other choice remaining, their captain gave in to the Penhorns and joined their ra¡ª¡±


    ¡°Fuck you!¡± cried Kreente, as he slowly crawled out of his hole. ¡°You piece of shit! Don¡¯t just go ending m¡ª¡±


    Thud.


    And so, the Kreente Pirates were subdued. With no other choice remaining, their captain gave in to the Penhorns and joined their ranks as a new recruit.

 Chapter 315 - Pirates and Prayers VII

    Chapter 315 - Pirates and Prayers VII


    Sylvia hummed a tune under her breath as she magically cleaned her great-grandfather¡¯s temple. Everything the tiny fairy passed was polished to perfection. The floor, the ceiling, the walls, and the decorations all had their dust collected and expelled by way of defenestration. It was the usual duty, at the usual time. Every week, she would visit the temple, cleanse all the impurities, and ensure that it was every bit as presentable as it needed to be.


    On most other days, she would have performed the chore with a spell from afar, but with it being Al¡¯s birthday, she felt that it was more appropriate to handle the task in person.


    The celebration of her own birth was coming up soon as well. It was just a few weeks after her great-grandfather¡¯s and a few days before she met Claire. She couldn¡¯t help but wonder if the lyrkress remembered it, but she didn¡¯t think she did. She had only mentioned her coming of age once or twice in passing, and she doubted that Claire had kept track of the date whilst exploring the dungeon, especially because, like all the other torches, she was put in stasis for a time before she was allowed to roam the dungeon.


    ¡°When¡¯s Claire¡¯s birthday anyway?¡± wondered the fox aloud. Given the length of their friendship, she was fairly certain that it had passed without mention. It was possible that Claire just hadn¡¯t been in the mood to celebrate, but it was just as likely that Cadrians simply didn¡¯t care much for anniversaries and the like. She didn¡¯t really know, but it wasn¡¯t a big deal, and there wasn¡¯t really much of a point thinking about it either way. Whatever the case, she would simply have to ask, assuming she still remembered when they reconvened.


    ¡°Okay! Looks like everything¡¯s clean.¡± Humming in satisfaction, she floated her way out of the freshly-polished temple and moved up onto its roof. ¡°Now I¡¯ve just gotta find Al a present.¡±


    The best choice was, of course, to procure a live catgirl. A certain goddess¡¯ heart aside, it was the single thing he wanted most, but alas, it was impossible. Flitzegarde had specifically configured the barrier around Llysteltein to reject catgirls. Even newly manufactured individuals were transported outside, beyond the point where Alfred¡¯s hands could reach. She suspected that the same would happen if she tried to smuggle one in through her tail. She could probably get one into the dungeon with her magic working the way it did, but they would surely be deported as soon as she withdrew them from the subspace. So left with no other choice, she resorted to gathering catgirl-related things instead.


    She began by jumping off the roof and floating into town. She hovered right past the city¡¯s walls and sought a very specific location just west of the northern wharf. It was a fairly well-known tea shop, albeit not necessarily for the quality of its wares. That wasn¡¯t to say that they weren¡¯t delicious¡ªSylvia always enjoyed the tea that they served¡ªbut her presence was driven by an entirely different purpose. Stealthing herself with a bubble, she floated through an open window and set her sights on a familiar figure.


    Standing at roughly one-hundred-and-eighty centimeters, the catgirl was a fair bit taller than the standard. She had a head of wavy black hair and a pair of bright green eyes that paired well with her taciturn persona. Her voluptuous figure was accentuated by a frilly uniform, much like that of a maid¡¯s, but without any of the unnecessary modesty baked in. Her skirt was well above her knees, barely covering everything it should, and her chest was practically spilling out of her unbuttoned blouse.


    She tried her best to look stern, but the catgirl was unable to hide her exhaustion. She stifled a yawn from time to time and her eyelids constantly threatened to droop. It was a circumstance that begged an observer to imagine the previous night''s activities as well as confirmation that Lyudmila, or Lewdmila as Sylvia had secretly dubbed her, was precisely the sort of girl that Alfred had hoped to create. With that in mind, the fox burned the catgirl into her retinas, carefully observing her from every angle so she could perfectly replicate her in song.


    It took roughly five minutes of careful observation for Sylvia¡¯s work to finish. She was confident that she could reproduce everything from the individual strands of her hair to the pores in her skin. The last thing she needed was a related holy relic so Alfred could experience the individual in question for himself. Panties were ideal, but it wasn¡¯t like she could simply steal the catgirl¡¯s while she was still wearing them¡ªnot that she would have wanted to do such a thing in the first place. She had certainly stolen panties on her great-grandfather''s behalf before, but she wasn''t about to do it again. Nay, she had grown too sensible for that.


    Her thieving paws¡ªor rather hands¡ªdrifted towards the catgirl''s tail instead. She picked out some of the shed hair still stuck to her person and stored it away. She wasn''t sure if it would make it through Flitzegarde''s barrier, but it was really the thought that mattered.


    Of course, an observation of just one catgirl did not quite suffice in and of itself, so she quickly vacated the tea house and flew towards her next location.


    Dispelling the bubble around her body, Sylvia casually fluttered her way through the town. She was small enough that most people didn''t notice her, even though she remained at shoulder height. The same, however, could not be said for the cat that ruled the northern wharf. He sprinted towards her as soon as he spotted her, pawing and biting in an attempt to capture the seemingly delectable meal. The fairy wasn''t worried much about the attempt on her life. She giggled instead as she flitted out of the way, occasionally meeting the cat''s pounces with a boop on the nose. Over the hills and under the arches she went, with the persistent, hungry feline chasing her to the ends of the world. When it eventually followed her into a dark alley, she assumed her full size and freaked it out to earn herself another fit of laughter.


    At her leisurely pace, it took almost an hour to reach her second destination¡ªnot that it was a problem. Both the catgirls that worked in the city''s most prestigious brothel were still sound asleep by the time of her arrival. Sylvia didn''t exactly keep tabs on them, but having checked in on all the local catgirls on occasion, at a certain celestial''s behest, she more or less understood the schedules that fueled their daily lives. Izolda and Ira were late risers. They woke in the early afternoon, ate a healthy meal unlikely to damage their physiques, and spent the remainder of their day on marketable hobbies or other forms of self-improvement. Exercise, song, dance, art. They did everything they could to bolster their value so that only the most high-class customers would be able to afford their nightly services.


    While such additional properties were prized by many, Sylvia only really cared for their bodies. She slipped into their shared bedroom and carefully scanned each, once again collecting their loose hairs and preparing a series of verses that would perfectly capture their forms. Again, it took a few minutes, but she soon slipped out of the adult-only entertainment centre and made for another destination.


    The fourth and final catgirl that resided within the city¡¯s bounds was the most difficult to stalk. She lived in a creepy manor that bordered the capital¡¯s southern treeline. It was surrounded by several layers of spells. Only two of them were physical barriers. The other seven were all configured to notify the caster of any possible abnormalities.


    Individually, they were fairly easy to sneak past. She was a level one, maybe two hundred caster¡ªnot anything that registered on the fox¡¯s radar, but with all seven thrown together, they served as something like a puzzle that needed to be solved each time the fox wished to venture through the gate.


    Like the courtesans, the social recluse was still sound asleep by the time of her arrival. Sylvia recorded her slightly chubby figure, retrieved a sample from her bright pink tail, and continued on her way.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    With all the samples finally gathered and all the verses refined in her mind, Sylvia floated up into the sky above the city and lightly hummed a tune. She opened and entered a pair of portals, one to get her into Llystletein, and a second that took her straight to Alfred¡¯s abode.


    The ancient human was already waiting for her, relaxing by the fireplace with a slice of cake crammed into his undersized pipe. Somehow, he was smoking it, enjoying the dessert as one would a batch of herbs. It wasn¡¯t quite her first time seeing the behaviour, but she questioned it nonetheless. There was no reason to ingest it so slowly when he could just as easily devour it in a single bite.


    ¡°Hey Al. Happy Birthday,¡± she said. As was clear from all the gifts lying around on the floor, she wasn¡¯t his first visitor, and though it was already past lunch, she was unlikely to be the last. It was still too early in the day for everyone to have risen.


    ¡°Thank you, Sylvia,¡± he said, with a happy puff. ¡°And welcome home. Would you like a slice of cake?¡±


    ¡°Maybe a little later. I had a pretty big breakfast today,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Right. The maid¡¯s cooking, yes?¡±


    ¡°Mhm. We had some leftovers from last night that Claire froze, and they were super tasty.¡±


    Alfred chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m sure they were.¡± He closed his eyes, leaned back into his chair, and clasped his hands in his lap. ¡°Have you been well lately?¡±


    ¡°Mhm!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Wait, shouldn¡¯t you know? I thought you were keeping an eye on us ¡®n stuff.¡±


    ¡°I was, until Flux started running me into the ground,¡± he said, with a chuckle. ¡°We had to spend a full two weeks sorting out the aftermath of that stunt you pulled with that murder-happy friend of yours. And now we¡¯re stuck catching up on the rest of the work we were putting off.¡±


    ¡°Oh uhmmm¡­ right,¡± said Sylvia, with a giggle. ¡°What happened to all the souls we gave you anyway?¡±


    ¡°The same thing that happens to all the souls I get my hands on,¡± he said, with a small smile. ¡°What else?¡±


    ¡°To be honest, I kinda thought for sure that Flux was gonna confiscate most of them,¡± said the fox. ¡°Since she doesn¡¯t really like it when people rip them out of the system.¡±


    ¡°She wasn¡¯t exactly in a position to complain after feeding Claire the rest.¡± He popped open a small box and skimmed through a book¡¯s worth of text at light speed. ¡°Speaking of, it looks like she¡¯s still not recovered.¡±


    Sylvia¡¯s tail flopped over. ¡°Yeah, at the rate it¡¯s going, it might take a few years before she gets back to normal. Is there really no way for you to fix her?¡±


    ¡°None that she would be willing to endure,¡± he said. ¡°Pretty much everything I can think of involves telling her too much or shoving her into one of the tanks.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ yeah, that probably isn¡¯t gonna fly,¡± muttered the fox.


    The so-called tanks in question were the large, cylindrical pods that Alfred kept in his lab. They were divine relics, system-defying creations born of his ability to embody the concept of creation. Any object or individual placed inside could be analyzed and tweaked at his discretion. Time, divinity, and the strength of the individual¡¯s mind were the only limiting factors.


    The only problem? Because the capsules were tied to his skills, and because his skills were as cultured as he, there existed a number of additional conditions. Each pod would be occupied by a single entity at any given point in time regardless of the input, and it just so happened that clothes were technically considered entities as well. It was impossible to avoid nakedness within the capsule lest one was willing to be combined with their garments.


    ¡°Oh yeah, before I forget. I have a present for you.¡± Sylvia reached into her tail and retrieved all the fur she had recently procured. There were only a few dozen strands, but the celestial¡¯s eyes sparkled nonetheless.


    ¡°Is that what I think it is?¡±


    Sylvia nodded. ¡°Mhm. I grabbed a bit from all four of the catgirls that live in Vel¡¯khagan.¡±


    Alfred smiled. ¡°Thank you Sylvia, that was very thoughtful of you.¡± He magically yoinked the fur out of the fox¡¯s hands, and crammed it into his pipe with the cake. ¡°I¡¯ll be enjoying it to the fullest.¡±


    ¡°I also made a bit of a song to go along with it. One sec.¡± She floated up into the air, pressed a hand to her chest, and took a breath. The lyrics that followed were delivered alongside a bright, upbeat tune. The notes soon induced a shared hallucination. A group of miniature catgirls frolicked through an imagined field, each a picture-perfect recreation of the model that served as the base.


    She didn¡¯t know what most of the girls¡¯ voices sounded like, but she made one up for each of the four and sang an accompanying verse. Her great-grandfather had teared up by the time the song was completed. He even lifted his handkerchief out of his pocket, lightly dabbed at his reddening eyes, and blew his nose for extra effect.


    ¡°That was wonderful. The only suggestion that I have for improvement is to ma¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not making them do anything weird, Al,¡± said Sylvia, with a huff.


    ¡°Too bad,¡± he said, regretfully. That, however, was about as far as he played the role. He snapped to attention as soon as she faced him again and met her with his most serious look. ¡°So? Why are you here? I¡¯m sure it wasn¡¯t just to celebrate, was it? This is hardly an important year.¡±


    Birthdays were common enough for Alfred that he didn¡¯t care all too much for them, save for when they ended in a multiple of ten. Taking a day-long break from work was about the extent of his celebration. And Sylvia, of course, knew that as well.


    ¡°Mmnnnn, I think so?¡± Sylvia lightly swished her tail back and forth before suddenly perking up. ¡°Oh wait, I remember now! I was supposed to ask you about something super important.¡±


    Alfred gestured for her to continue.


    ¡°Have you ever heard of the Langgbjern Mountains?¡±


    ¡°I do know of them,¡± said the old human. ¡°They were considered fairly perilous even when I was still an aspect, and I¡¯d imagine they''ve only ever gotten worse since.¡±


    ¡°Right so uhmmmm... I think we''re going there soon.¡±


    The celestial raised a brow. ¡°And why is that?¡±


    ¡°Well, apparently Claire has to get really strong really quickly, and it was pretty much the only place she could think of.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad to see that she''s about as insane as ever,¡± he said, with a chuckle. ¡°But I¡®d advise that you refrain from participating. I doubt that even you will be able to survive.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± asked the fox, with her eyes wide open.


    ¡°Let¡¯s confirm, shall we?¡± The celestial popped open a series of boxes and quickly scanned their infinitely scrolling contents. They were filled with images and numbers, but they flashed by too quickly for the fox''s mind to register the details. The only thing she could really make out was the sheer amount of white. Alfred had no such trouble, however. He hemmed and hawed as he looked over the data, with its details only accelerating the gears in the back of his mind. ¡°I¡¯m fairly certain, Sylvia, that if you are foolish enough to visit the Langgbjerns, you will no doubt die within three days. It will only be sooner if you task yourself with the others¡¯ protection.¡±


    Her eyes opened wide. ¡°It¡¯s that bad?¡±


    ¡°It is one of the three places in Mara where an aspect might become a celestial, and a celestial might become a god,¡± he said. ¡°You should discourage your friend from going. The base might have been fine for her to explore in perfect condition, but with her magic shackled, and her body in pain, she is sure to die.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really think she''s going to listen to me even if I tell her that,¡± said Sylvia. She paused for a moment to think. ¡°Oh, I know! Can you make the old ones a bunch of bodies? We¡¯ll probably be fine if they incarnate.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be against it,¡± said Alfred, with a grin, ¡°but I would like you to do me a bit of a favour in exchange.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm... what kind of favour?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said Alfred. ¡°It¡¯s nothing too difficult, just something that only you can do. We can even call it a quest, if you¡¯d like.¡±


    Though she doubted the claim, Sylvia continued to listen, even as the blush that appeared on her face spread past her cheeks and through her elven ears.

 Chapter 316 - Pirates and Prayers VIII

    Chapter 316 - Pirates and Prayers VIII


    Claire stared silently at Flitzegarde¡¯s temple as she weighed her options. She wasn¡¯t sure if she had the energy remaining to evaluate the goddess¡¯ intentions. It had been a long day¡ªshe had assassinated some idiot with a fetish for taxidermized bears, spoken to three of the possible representatives that Ciel had put on her list, and even beat up a group of pirates before returning to Velkhagan.


    It wasn¡¯t a problem with her body that stayed her hand. Her muscles were still brimming with vigour, ready for a full-on fight at any given moment, but her mental bandwidth had been used up in its entirety. All she wanted was to close her eyes and sleep for half a week.


    Still, she stepped onto the temple¡¯s grounds and made her way to the back of the line. The lyrkress had decided on the visit much earlier in the day, and she had even procured the goddess¡¯ snack in advance. And so, with a bag of freshly-baked kelp cookies in hand, she assumed her humanoid form, filled out all the forms, and abided by the goddess¡¯ instruction. Before long, she was in the silent cathedral again, beholding it in all its majestic glory. Rather than following the red carpet and heading straight for the altar, Claire decided to explore the holy space. She floated off the ground and fluttered towards the windows through which the brilliant sunbeams streamed.


    A quick peek confirmed that the church stood upon a mountain. She hadn''t the slightest clue as to where exactly they were, but it was high enough that the clouds lay far beneath them. Through the gaps in the fluffy white shields, she could see a number of idle hamlets, tiny villages off in the distance, too far for their architecture to ring clear. Despite the vertical distance, the mountain itself was completely devoid of white. There was not even a speck of snow in the sea of green. Blooming deciduous trees ran along its length, covering it in a dense jungle bustling with life. There was the odd pine mixed in as well, but the evergreens refused to take over, in spite of the seemingly colder environment. She knew that it wasn¡¯t quite as warm as Vel¡¯khagan, but Claire couldn¡¯t guess the temperature. The caldriess was never uncomfortable, regardless of how cold it got.


    She tried to squeeze her way outdoors, but an invisible barrier barred her from interacting with the outside world. Bearing with the accompanying pain, she created a small portal to see if she could reach beyond the wall, but to no avail. The goddess of order refused any outside interaction.


    Her attempts to walk out the front door were equally as futile. The barrier was more obvious there, clearly stopping her from heading outside, even after she opened the door. There was no choice but to walk up the aisle, return to the altar, and complete her act of worship. Reluctantly, Claire did just that. She placed her offering on top of the stone tablet, assumed the usual pose, and prayed to the cat that had stolen Alfred¡¯s heart.


    ¡°O goddess of order, ruler of the divine realm and enforcer of law. I bestow upon you a snack a dear friend of mine enjoyed and ask that you may be so kind as to provide a moment of your time and attention.¡±


    The deity¡¯s presence filled the room as the last word left her lips. It came with an overbearing, crushing weight¡ªthe weight of all the faith placed on her shoulders since her final ascension. Claire almost felt like she would be flattened beneath it, but she resisted the urge to become a pancake and kept her back straight as a rod.


    She had to fight to raise her gaze, but not because of the pressure. Her catgirl skill was going wild. She was normally able to ignore it, like she had when she met Larisa earlier in the day, but before Flitzegarde, its might was impossible to resist. Her whole body screamed in a way that she didn¡¯t quite understand. Neither the pounding in her chest nor the ringing in her ears were unfamiliar, but there was a strange burning heat that spread throughout her body, originating in the pit of her stomach. It felt like it was going to swallow her whole, even as she fought it back and raised her eyes.


    Cursed or not, she could not quite deny Flitzegarde¡¯s enchanting beauty. The goddess¡¯ skin was tanned a perfect bronze that only accented her golden slit eyes. Her tail and her ears were both a deep raven black, just like the long, flowing hair that ran all the way down to her waist. Her frame was on the more slender side, and the light clothing she wore did little to hide it. There were only two straps of cloth to obscure her chest. Each ran down from her neck and wrapped around one side of her body. The flimsy outfit was held together with a series of golden accessories, necklaces and bangles adorned with glimmering gems. Her skirt was very much the same¡ªan impossibly thin layer of cloth the same colour as her hair, locked in place by a belt made of several gilded braces. It was practically a loincloth, only much wider and longer, extending all the way from hip to hip and down the full length of her legs.


    And then there were her ears. They were much longer than the ears that most of Alfred¡¯s creations had, barely falling short when put next to Claire¡¯s own. They were shapely as well, and their position, while not precisely centaurian, was reminiscent of that which the lyrkress¡¯ would take when she raised them above her head.


    The goddess¡¯ almost childlike pout only added to her beauty; it sent Claire¡¯s mind spinning into disarray and nearly robbed her of all good sense. But again, she stood her ground, met the goddess¡¯ eyes, and spoke with her tone steady and controlled.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Flitzegarde.¡±


    ¡°Good afternoon,¡± said the cat.


    The statement was followed by an awkward moment of silence, with Claire awaiting another set of words, and the goddess only staring into her eyes. She was not too nervous to speak, as was the case with the god of the abyssal depths. She was simply choosing silence instead.


    ¡°I have returned, as you have requested, Goddess.¡± Eventually, Claire broke the silence.


    ¡°So you have.¡± But again, Flitzegarde¡¯s response was curt, short and blunt enough that the lyrkress was unable to respond.


    She tried to scrutinize the goddess¡¯ gaze, but she learned nothing. The only fact she could discern was that Flitzegarde was annoyed, even though it was she that had demanded the caldriess¡¯ return.


    ¡°Is the offering not to your liking?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± said Flitzegarde. There was another delay, another few moments of silence that ended when the goddess continued. ¡°I was waiting for the effects of Alfred¡¯s influence to leave your mind.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± said Claire, with a frown of her own.


    ¡°Now that you are free from it, I¡¯d say we¡¯re overdue for a chat.¡±


    Claire raised her brow. It was her first time hearing that the goddess had business with her, and frankly, she didn¡¯t see why she would.


    ¡°First, I¡¯d like to apologize for my handling of Alfred Llarsse. You never would have had to deal with his nonsense had the measures I put in place been any more robust. My barrier should have suppressed his divine powers, but I was unfortunate enough to underestimate the extent of his abilities.¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    Claire took a breath. ¡°I do hate his curse, but I never thought it was your fault,¡± she said. ¡°I would¡¯ve died, if not for his dungeon.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not so sure about that,¡± said Flitzegarde. ¡°Flux was ready to interfere, despite my explicit instruction.¡±


    ¡°And you wouldn¡¯t have stopped her?¡±


    ¡°I considered it, but I decided that I was better off appeasing her.¡±


    The lyrkress cocked her head. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be the strongest god? Couldn¡¯t you just beat her up?¡±


    ¡°I am, and I could,¡± said the cat. There was no pride backing the statement; she said it like it was a matter of course. ¡°But maintaining order doesn¡¯t necessarily always mean enforcing the rule of law. There are times when you have to take a step back and evaluate if overlooking a minor infraction or two might lead to a better long-term result.¡±


    The answer drove Claire to narrow her eyes. Flitzegarde was not at all as she had understood her. The church¡¯s reputation suggested that she could not be defied, and the contracts that borrowed her power generally ensured absolute compliance. And yet, there she was before her, casually claiming that there were exceptions to be made. She was once again struck by the sense of incongruency that had followed their first encounter. Something wasn¡¯t adding up.


    The goddess frowned. ¡°You seem confused, but it¡¯s really simple if you stop to consider it. It¡¯s the same reason that most crimes do not merit systematic punishment and why people aren¡¯t just given the classes that would best suit their talents from birth. Order exists to ensure the world¡¯s function, not to rob people of their will. Individuality has always been something that we have strived to protect. That was why the system was first created.¡±


    ¡°Was that your decision?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Flitzegarde closed her eyes for a brief moment and curved her lips into a smile. ¡°It was my predecessor that dictated the system¡¯s purpose.¡± There was a fondness in her words, as she recalled the antecedent in question. ¡°He has since departed, but we carry on his will. The core tenets were never once changed.¡±


    Claire knew of the god in question. He was referred to in myth as the god of all things, and sometimes described in lesser terms as the god of creation. It was precisely on his concept that Alfred had set his sights.


    ¡°Sealing Alfred was impossibly difficult. Unfortunately, he is more powerful than the average god in spite of his stage of ascension. He would have had the potential to become the greatest among us were it not for his twisted personality.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s that powerful?¡±


    ¡°To explain his abilities entails going beyond the scope of what I¡¯m allowed to say,¡± said Flitzegarde. ¡°But his abilities likely appear to be inert because you¡¯ve only met in his sealed state.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± said Claire, with an internal shudder. If there was one thing she learned from the encounter, it was that she did not want to see Alfred unchained.


    ¡°Now, moving on,¡± said Flitzegarde. ¡°You wanted me to forgive the orbital strike you launched on the planet.¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°In spite of how I, or any of the other gods might feel, you did nothing that warrants an explicit divine pardon. The system is simply a tool for deification, and it has always been configured in such a way that rewards violence. To condemn you for the destruction of a city would be an act of utter hypocrisy. We are only gods because we have performed executions at scale and earned our divinity by etching our names into the hearts of those that survived to tell the tale. Builledracht has cursed entire nations and condemned them to rot, Vella has taken countless kings and heroes with her blade, and Primrose¡¯s famines have brought the richest and most powerful to their ends through a desperate lack of bread.¡± The goddess¡¯ eyes shone, the golden light within them even brighter than the afternoon sun. ¡°Rule of power is primitive, but it remains a form of order itself. Rather than seeking forgiveness, you should live with the consequences of your actions. Stand tall, Claire Augustus. It will earn you more of the pantheon¡¯s trust than your false deference.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± said Claire, with her eyes narrowed. ¡°Why would you restrict my class, if not to demand my subservience?¡±


    ¡°That particular restriction was made in the distant past, a fault on Griselda¡¯s part. In her infinite boredom, she flung meteors at the planet and caused great disaster to do nothing but pass the time. The approval of ten gods is not a high hurdle to clear. Griselda is only denied because she never presents a reasonable argument.¡±


    Claire frowned. ¡°But I just earned their ire, thanks to Tornatus. They would never approve.¡±


    Flitzegarde shrugged. ¡°While I could certainly advise you on several methods to circumvent your problem, I would rather keep them undisclosed. For reference, I¡¯ve no plans to ever approve the action myself unless there is no other way to prevent some sort of large-scale blasphemy, or perhaps a threat to the world. I have nothing against you, nor even Griselda. It is simply the stance that I will always continue to hold.¡±


    ¡°How would I make you partial to me then?¡±


    The question earned her a suspicious glare. Flitzegarde carefully looked her over and scrutinized the depths of her eyes. ¡°Are you sure that you haven¡¯t let Alfred¡¯s influence corrupt you?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it like that,¡± said Claire. She paused for a moment, mulling over the goddess¡¯ words, before she decided to finish her statement. ¡°Pervert.¡±


    Flitzegarde was taken aback. For a moment, the otherwise annoyed mask slipped from her face in favour of an almost Vella-like reaction. Her lips flapped open and closed, like a desperate fish taken out of water. It took a moment for her to cough and regain her composure, her lips twisted open to reveal a fanged smile. ¡°Please refrain from likening me to Alfred¡¯s creations.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t really help it,¡± said Claire. ¡°They look just like you.¡±


    Flitzegarde meowed in annoyance. ¡°I told you to stand tall, not to get cheeky.¡±


    Claire smiled. ¡°Seeing as how you¡¯re not all that angry, I take it you¡¯d be willing to give me a quest in exchange for a blessing?¡±


    ¡°I am.¡± The goddess closed her eyes. ¡°You were headed north?¡±


    ¡°To Cadria.¡±


    ¡°Then my quest will be for you to make the journey on your own feet and wings.¡±


    Log Entry 849533


    You have received a quest - Walk the Path


    Objective: Travel from Vel¡¯khan to Cadria without any long-distance teleportation.


    Successful completion will merit a reward in the form of Flitzegarde¡¯s blessing.


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°That¡¯s a full month of travel.¡±


    ¡°And a perfect excuse to see the sights,¡± said Flitzegarde.


    ¡°I can¡¯t possibly defeat my father if I don¡¯t make optimal use of my time.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t possibly defeat him at all, even if you make optimal use of your time,¡± said the goddess. ¡°Flux may be the best predictor of the future, but even I can see that the result is predetermined. There is no purpose in contemplating the fall of Virillius Augustus with only a measly year and a half¡¯s worth of combat experience, regardless of how intensive it may be. He is a man capable of conquering foes with powers far in excess of his own. You have certainly inherited his blood, and with it a trace of his talent, but you will not defeat him.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± said the caldriess. Her eyes were clear and unclouded. ¡°But I will, I have to challenge him. Beating him is the only way I¡¯ll ever be free.¡±


    Flitzegarde frowned. She didn¡¯t quite seem to like the answer, but neither did she explicitly prohibit the mortal¡¯s choice. Instead, she simply meowed dismissively and allowed the cathedral to fade away.


    For a moment, even as she was taken back to Vel¡¯khan, Claire felt her presence over her shoulder. But then, the catgirl vanished, leaving only her image burned into the lykress¡¯ mind.

 Chapter 317 - The Northern Brigade

    Chapter 317 - The Northern Brigade


    It was evening by the time Claire finally got home. Feeling much more tired than usual, she creaked open the door without a word, slithered her way up the stairs, and sought the comfort of her bed. It wasn¡¯t exactly capable of supporting her full size, so she shrank to her humanoid form to better experience the softness of its embrace. No sooner had she shapeshifted than she collapsed on top of the mattress; she spent a few moments rolling around and relishing the full extent of its softness before surrendering her mind to the void.


    She didn¡¯t bother visiting any of the usual locations even as her consciousness was shrouded in the usual abyss. She basked in its comfort instead, enjoying the sensations that covered her body as the clock slowly ticked itself away.


    The gentle warmth lasted until her ears caught a strange sound. Something humanoid was making its way into her room, its feet carelessly tapping against the floor as it made its way across. At first, she thought it was Chloe. She was ready to fight the maid off and call her a pervert for sneaking into her room at night, but a more careful examination of the sound confirmed that it wasn¡¯t her. Chloe¡¯s footsteps were heavy, thanks to all the things she carried under her skirt. The person approaching the bed was nearly silent in spite of an unsteady gait and her tail made a swishing sound as it slowly passed through the air.


    It was Sylvia, present in her humanoid form. After reaching the bedside, the vixen seemed to hesitate for a moment or two before lifting the sheets, crawling in behind the lyrkress, and wrapping her arms around her waist.


    The actions themselves were normal¡ªthey always slept together, and one often ended up hugging the other throughout the night¡ªbut the accompanying ragged breath and pounding heart roused the lyrkress¡¯ suspicions. The warning bells in her head only grew louder when Sylvia heaved a hot sigh into her ears and slowly brought her lips closer and closer.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± She used the assaulted ear to smack the fox¡¯s nose before rolling over to face her.


    Sylvia tried pulling Claire closer instead of speaking a reply, but the lyrkress pressed a hand against her face and pushed her away. Her breath reeked of alcohol and her eyes were still spinning from its overconsumption. The only thing that remained clear was her embarrassment; her face was as flushed as the evening sky, dyed in a neverending sea of red.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± repeated the moose.


    The fox tried pushing forward again, but her face was held firmly in place.


    ¡°Stop pretending to be drunk. You suck at acting.¡±


    Sylvia blinked. She caught herself before she repeated the motion twice, but it was too late. She had given herself away. Still, she stubbornly refused to speak. She continued pushing forward, putting more and more force into the motion as her face grew redder and redder. Perhaps because her mind was genuinely clouded, she didn¡¯t notice when Claire suddenly stopped pushing back. She catapulted herself straight into the nightstand and smacked her head into the sharpened corner.


    ¡°Ow! What the heck!?¡± she cried.


    ¡°I should be the one asking you that,¡± muttered the lyrkress. She grabbed the fox¡¯s cheeks from behind and pinched them. ¡°Care to explain what you were doing?¡±


    There was no longer any way for her to deny that the cat was out of the bag, but she still didn¡¯t answer. The fox only buried her face in the sheets instead, with her cheeks somehow even brighter than they were before. It was a reaction that prompted a sigh on the lyrkress¡¯ part. Somewhat annoyed, she sat the vixen up and gently peeled away the hands she was using to cover her face.


    ¡°Be honest and I won¡¯t get mad.¡±


    Sylvia averted her eyes, but it was clear from the way they were wavering that it was only a matter of time before she gave in.


    ¡°Was it Alfred¡¯s fault?¡±


    The furball nodded as she placed her hands in her lap and twiddled her thumbs. She opened her mouth a few times, but her face only reddened again with each attempt to speak.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay. You don¡¯t have to tell me,¡± muttered the lyrkress. ¡°We can just pretend it never happened.¡± She moved to lie down again, but a hesitant tug cut the motion short and drew her eyes back to her vulpine companion.


    ¡°Uhmm¡­¡±


    ¡°Uhm?¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Alfred told me that he¡¯d help me help you with the Langgbjern stuff if I uhm¡­¡± She lowered her gaze and flushed again. ¡°N-nevermind! Y-you¡¯re right, let¡¯s just pretend this never happened.¡±


    ¡°Stupid fox,¡± said Claire, with a sigh.


    ¡°Hey! That¡¯s rude!¡± mumbled Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯m not stupid.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯re a pervert.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a pervert either!¡±


    ¡°Then why are you naked? You¡¯re either a pervert or an idiot that let her great-grandfather trick her into something dumb.¡±


    ¡°Ughhhh, gosh, Claire. You¡¯re so mean. I¡¯m just trying to help.¡±


    The lyrkress averted her gaze. ¡°Sorry. Habit.¡± She took the foxgirl¡¯s hand in her own and squeezed it. ¡°Now, how about you tell me what that stupid old pervert¡¯s put into your head?¡±


    Sylvia¡¯s face flushed again as she nodded. With her free hand, she played with her tail, twiddling the fluffy furs until she was finally ready to speak. ¡°He told me that I had to kiss you.¡±


    Claire blinked. ¡°I don¡¯t see how that has anything to do with you breathing all over my ears. Or pretending to be drunk.¡±


    ¡°Well uhmmm¡­ that¡¯s ¡®cause it felt like it¡¯d be kinda wrong to kiss you while you were asleep. I thought you¡¯d probably be more inclined to forgive me if I woke you up with something silly, kissed you, and then played the whole thing off like I was just being dumb ¡®cause I was super drunk.¡±


    Claire pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°Touching my ears isn¡¯t silly. It¡¯s lewd.¡±


    ¡°M-maybe for you, but for me it never really felt like it was supposed to be naughty,¡± she muttered. ¡°Foxes play with each other¡¯s ears all the time.¡±


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    ¡°I know,¡± said Claire. ¡°That¡¯s why you paw at mine whenever you¡¯re bored.¡±


    ¡°Mhm.¡± Sylvia nodded as she turned around and buried her face into the pillow. ¡°Ugh¡­ what the heck, Claire! Why did you have to go and figure everything out? Now I¡¯m never gonna be able to bring myself to kiss you.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s supposed to be a problem,¡± said the moose.


    ¡°It¡¯s a huge problem! We¡¯re not strong enough, and I can¡¯t use my ultimate without Al¡¯s help.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire. She leaned on the fox¡¯s shoulder and pulled the blanket over their laps.


    ¡°I dunno. Al¡¯s pretty sure we¡¯re just gonna get ourselves killed.¡±


    The lyrkress almost opened her mouth to retort, but she soon closed it again and wrapped her arms around the fox¡¯s. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine, Sylvia. I¡¯ll be careful, and we¡¯ll only push forward if we feel like we¡¯re ready. I promise I won¡¯t be reckless. I¡¯m not going to die.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnnn¡­ that doesn¡¯t really sound all that convincing, with how careless you are most of the time.¡±


    Claire frowned. ¡°I promise.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you,¡± huffed Sylvia.


    The lyrkress stared at her pet for a few seconds before digging her fingers into her sides and tickling her with the ferocity of a vengeful spirit. Sylvia squealed. Nearly jumping out of her skin, she broke into an uncontrollable laughing fit that carried her straight to the floor.


    ¡°What the heck!¡± she shouted, between air-deprived gasps.


    ¡°You¡¯re worrying too much. I never fail to kill things when I set my mind to it.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ what about Melly?¡±


    The obvious counter-example was met with an annoyed stare. ¡°Okay, fine. I¡¯ve messed up once.¡±


    ¡°Oh, and the frog I made. The really big one.¡±


    Claire stared blankly for a few seconds before initiating another assault. Unlike the first time, she kept going even after the fox started complaining about being completely out of breath.


    ¡°Stupid fox,¡± she muttered, as she finally removed her hands.


    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault you keep messing up.¡± Sylvia stuck out her tongue before allowing herself to fall back onto the bed and into the pillow. She spread her arms wide, almost as if to take up as much space as she could, and turned her eyes on the window. The sun had finished setting. The reds and purples that had dyed the sky were gone, and the moonlight kept the room just barely illuminated enough for her to watch the curtain as it fluttered in the evening breeze. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said. ¡°I should¡¯ve just asked, but it was really embarrassing and I figured you¡¯d just say no anyway.¡±


    Claire didn¡¯t reply. She got under the sheets instead and pulled them over their shoulders.


    ¡°And I mean, I guess it¡¯s kind of a weird request in the first place. I don¡¯t even like girls. I don¡¯t know why Al keeps tryi¡ª¡±


    Sylvia froze.


    Her mind suddenly stopped working in its entirety.


    It took a few seconds for her to finally process the soft sensation that had suddenly grazed her lips.


    ¡°I don¡¯t really see why you¡¯re making such a big deal out of it,¡± said the cause of the error.


    The words invaded her ears, but the fox was unable to reply.


    ¡°A simple greeting is hardly too steep a price to pay for power.¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah. R-right,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Stupid fox. Can¡¯t even run a simple cost-benefit analysis.¡± She was completely unfazed. Simply closing her eyes, as if nothing had happened, Claire was asleep in a matter of moments.


    The confused fox, on the other hand, was unable to send her consciousness away. Unable to even roll over, thanks to the qiligon wrapped around her arm, she lay wide awake until the crack of dawn.


    __


    Seven hours and one poorly made breakfast later, Claire was back on Temple Street. She stood in front of Vella¡¯s church with her eyes narrowed suspiciously and her guard up all the way. She really didn¡¯t want to visit her father¡¯s patron, and seeing the temple in person only served to amplify her distaste. It was too fond of its identity. Banners and broken weapons lay scattered in the courtyard¡ªspoils of war that, in all likelihood, none of the priests present had earned. Such was the norm for Vella¡¯s followers. Rare was the religious scholar with a thirst for combat. It was a trait whose scarcity fell second only to the propensity to clean. Vella¡¯s church wasn¡¯t filthy per se, but the dusty stone building was far from being neat and tidy. The stone bricks that made up its exterior were haphazardly stacked, with each jutting out to a seemingly random extent. There was a bit of a buildup of dust; it was especially visible where the sun streamed through the windows and highlighted the images of the spider god¡¯s heroes.


    The carpet that led inside was also tacky and distasteful. She hated the way its fibres were woven entirely with gold. The whole thing stank of the nouveau riche; it wasn¡¯t even a high-quality item. The bristles were so thick that she was worried they would scratch her scales, in spite of her ability to resist swords and arrows.


    Even worse than the aesthetic were the eyes resting upon her. Starrgort¡¯s presence drew an excess of attention. The people looked upon the spider on her head with their eyes shimmering and their hands clasped in prayer. The reverence only extended to the lyrkress after Starrgort was fully observed and praised. And even then, she hated it. It was like she was an accessory to one of the useless goddess¡¯ pets.


    She would have very much preferred her usual hat to the obnoxious substitute, but Sylvia was unlikely to wake in the foreseeable future. Perhaps thanks to the previous night¡¯s stressful event, she didn¡¯t even stir when Claire pinched her cheeks come morning.


    Boris, on the other hand, had gladly tagged along for the excursion. He was waddling a bit of a ways behind her, moving through the crowd with the lethargy of a snail. Every once in a while, after getting too far away, he would suddenly appear by her feet, so that he could start the process of falling behind all over again.


    It was a bizarre, eye-catching phenomenon. But even with his sudden teleportation, all eyes remained on Starrgort and his supposed handler.


    ¡°Good morning!¡± One of the priests walked over with a smile. He was a giant of a man with the face and hooves of a bull. His skin, which was only really exposed near his fingers, was nearly the same tanned brown as the fur that coated his frame. He was built with so much muscle that his biceps were as wide as Claire¡¯s body; two fully grown adults could easily sit on each of his shoulders. ¡°We¡¯ve been expecting you,¡± he said. His voice was gruff, completely unsuited to his reverent tone.


    ¡°Great,¡± muttered Claire, under her breath.


    Despite her complaints, she followed him into the temple and through its halls. The warriors contained within it were overwhelmingly male, but not for no reason. It was mainly to men that Vella appealed. It was commonly known that the goddess spread her legs more often than she swung her weapon, and many gathered in hopes of one day receiving her blessings. To be bedded by the goddess was to be acknowledged, be it as a powerful warrior already, or perhaps one with potential to grow. It was an honour that only played second fiddle to being granted a weapon and acknowledged as one of her champions.


    It was precisely the bed-related practice which caused many soldiers¡¯ wives to protest against the goddess. They accused her of thievery and harlotry, but their complaints fell on deaf ears. Vella only ever replied to gloat. And evidently, the Primrose situation suggested that the practice extended beyond the mortal realm.


    Claire¡¯s mind continued spinning idle thoughts until they reached the atrium. A sense of impending danger struck as soon as she stepped through the door.


    She dodged to the side, just in time for a massive, mechanical arachne to land exactly where she had stood.


    The world distorted with the goddess¡¯ advent. The atrium was transformed, converted into a massive corridor lined with long-dead guards. It was the Hall of Heroes¡ªthe realm that served as the goddess¡¯ domain.


    ¡°You dodged,¡± said Vella, with a smile. ¡°I knew you¡¯d dodge.¡±


    Claire didn¡¯t reply. She silently grabbed her lizard between her teeth and glared at the arachnid threat.


    There was nothing to be said.


    Their capacity for speech had regressed to a means of deception; the goddess¡¯ trial had already begun.

 Chapter 318 - The Northern Brigade II

    Chapter 318 - The Northern Brigade II


    Claire ducked past the incoming blade and launched herself at Vella¡¯s gut. Having avoided the goddess¡¯ sword, she found what should have been the perfect chance to counter. And yet, she had no choice but to flap her wings and back away. The goddess¡¯ front legs flew past her face, nearly carving her flesh asunder.


    The caldriess retreated to a distance of over ten meters. She was out of melee range, but not even that was enough to escape the goddess¡¯ assault. The mechanical carapace that grew out of her back suddenly opened up. Two hollow, rectangular blocks positioned themselves over her shoulders and each fired a magical blast. They were impossible to dodge. Travelling at light speed, the projectiles landed right on target and smacked her in the neck. She would have died then and there if the goddess used even a fraction of her power, but Vella held back.


    It wouldn¡¯t have been a trial if it was so unfair.


    There existed not a Cadrian that hadn¡¯t heard of Vella¡¯s Challenge. The goddess would lower her own ability scores so her total was equal to the challenger¡¯s and engage them in single combat. Of course, even with their numbers equalized, it was impossible for a mortal to overcome her¡ªshe had too many tools at her disposal and her skills were too refined¡ªthe goal was only to impress her.


    But even that was absurdly difficult. The few scars that ran across the goddess¡¯ body were present for a reason. They were the only wounds ever left by mortal men, proof that warriors of the past had managed to do her harm, scarce records of the rare successes there were.


    One problem was the lack of viable targets. It was only her humanoid parts that were made of flesh. Her wings and her spider-like lower half were both crafted of divine metal. Some parts looked less durable than others; there were exposed pipes and wires all over, but their pristine exteriors confirmed that they were impossible to pierce. It only made sense. Vella¡¯s body was practically comprised of divine relics, and it was not impossible to argue that she was one herself.


    Claire clenched her teeth as she leapt through the air. For a ten-meter-long creature, her acceleration was impressive. She closed the distance in the blink of an eye and slashed at Vella¡¯s side. Boris was repelled. Vella lightly parried him with her sword and threw him completely off course. But unlike her weapon, Claire refused to slide to a stop. She kept moving, twisting her body away from the goddess¡¯ legs as she delivered a strike with her claws. But again, the attack was blocked. The goddess effortlessly warded it off and fired another blast from her shoulder-mounted cannons.


    Again, the lasers landed perfectly on target.


    There was no movement of the goddess¡¯ eyes. She didn¡¯t even so much as twitch to hint at the incoming attack. It was only the flow of her mana that changed, and even that was almost perfectly obscured. Combined with the goddess¡¯ flawless marksmanship, the beams may as well have been impossible to avoid.


    Claire gritted her teeth. At a glance, it looked like she was unscathed. Her scales were unmarked and she had fully resisted the impact, but a quick glance at her status revealed that the damage had gone through regardless. Her defenses were ignored; Vella was targeting her health pool directly. She hadn¡¯t the faintest clue as to how it worked, and with her breath out of commission, she was unable to match it with any meaningful retaliation. A weak blast of ice would only be readily repelled.


    Claire leapt into the air. She moved directly above the goddess and looped behind her. She was clearly out of sight, but the shoulder cannons followed. Their barrels remained fixed on her core, no matter how far she moved to evade them.


    Though she could have easily secured the win from afar, Vella was not content to wait for victory. She shot a web from her rear, pulled herself up towards the ceiling, and swung at the caldriess with her blade at the ready.


    The glowing pink sword only barely missed the qiligon¡¯s neck. It was a perfect dodge on the mortal¡¯s account, followed by an equally perfect counter. Claire swung the blade between her jaws with all the force she could muster. And at the same time, she cleaved with her tail. The appendage was tipped with another jagged blade¡ªa massive, heavy sword that made full use of her strength and weight. It was driven towards the goddess¡¯ flank from behind, delivered from outside of her vision.


    And yet, she deflected it. In one swift motion, one beautifully crafted swing, she parried both the lizards in the lyrkress¡¯ possession.


    It was like she had eyes in the back of her head.


    Of course, Claire knew that wasn¡¯t the case. Vella was an arachne. She had two heads, but both sets faced forward. She couldn¡¯t see behind her. There had to be another explanation. But she didn¡¯t have the mental bandwidth to decipher it.


    Her mind was focused entirely on dodging Vella¡¯s next attack. Because it was still affected by the last parry¡¯s momentum, the spider goddess ignored her sword and engaged with an eight-legged charge. Each of her glowing feet slashed at Claire. The tips were sharp enough to pass as blades, vicious glowing blades that threatened to end her life in an instant. The lyrkress reeled back in time to dodge five of them, but the other three ripped past her scales, stopping only as they encountered her bones.


    Claire continued to retreat even as they dug into her flesh, ripping them out as she forced some distance between them. For a moment, it looked like she had escaped with just a few shallow wounds, but then she noticed. The legs that had been buried within her had lost their rosy glow.


    So where then was the magic with which they had once been bestowed?


    The answer was clear.


    It was buried within her body.


    The spells kicked in as soon as the thought crossed her mind. Raw mana coursed through her flesh, seeping deep within her core before suddenly exploding into a burst of blood.


    She was lucky.


    The goddess hadn¡¯t touched any of her vitals.


    Still, her neck was so thoroughly destroyed that her spine was visible through the gaping hole. It didn¡¯t hurt nearly as much as she had thought. She could barely feel it with her circuits already complaining as loudly as they were.


    There was no time to evaluate the lack of pain. The goddess had already lunged again, diving at her from the ceiling with her sword mid-swing. Knowing how deadly her attacks were, Claire took extra care to duck beneath them before retaliating with another sweep of the tail. Just like the first, it was aimed at the arachne¡¯s back, and just like the first, it failed to find its mark. Vella parried it without so much as looking its way and even delivered a counter to the scaly limb.


    The goddess¡¯ magic was transferred again, but having landed near a particularly bone-dense region, its detonation barely did any harm.


    Frowning, Claire spun around and fired a wad of icicles at the spider¡¯s web. She managed to pierce through the silk and detach the goddess from the ceiling, but she only achieved a temporary separation. Vella simply produced another glob and attached herself again.


    It only took a moment, but that moment was more than enough. Claire flapped her wings, closed the distance, and turned Boris into a set of infernal chains. She flicked him when Vella moved to parry and wrapped his body around her blade. She wasn¡¯t able to wrench it out of the goddess¡¯ grasp, but she did finally lock the blade in place for long enough to follow with a strike of the claws.


    Her trajectory was perfect. Her talons were only a few meters away from finding their mark.


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    But then the goddess smiled.


    And changed the shape of her weapon.


    Her sword shrank; it turned into a rapier too thin for the chains to grab, and then a spear to meet the lyrkress¡¯ attack. The tip went straight through the qiligon¡¯s palm, ripping through her scales with such ease that it was like they had never existed.


    And then, when it was firmly lodged between her bones, the blade was used to throw her. Vella swung the glowing green polearm with such force that it sent the caldriess crashing straight into the hall below. The rest of her colours changed with the weapon. The tip of every leg assumed the same emerald shade that adorned the spear¡¯s edge.


    Swinging her web again, she catapulted herself towards the caldriess right as she rose and delivered another hefty blow.


    Claire tried to resist. She turned Boris into an axe and matched it with a heavy strike of her own. The ikarett moved at twice the speed of Vella¡¯s blade, but the goddess had her outclassed regardless. She completely overpowered the snake-moose and launched her into a faraway wall.


    And then, when she gave chase, her weapon changed forms again. It turned into a massive scythe with a bright blue blade that accelerated her to ten times her previous speed. Her attacks were less devastating, however, as while she was able to cut through the giant snake¡¯s scales, the slashes were so shallow that they may as well have missed.


    A frown crossed the moose¡¯s lips as she swatted the spider away. Vella blocked, but her lack of power nearly allowed Claire to push past her guard. It was only a last-second pivot that allowed the arachnid to twirl past the flurry of slashes.


    But she was still caught. Claire coiled her body up and trapped the spider between her scales. She squeezed, holding her arms and legs in place even as her weapons poked into her flesh.


    She had the goddess locked down. But she failed to grasp her between her jaws. Vella¡¯s scythe turned into a spear again, and with a grunt, she forced the lyrkress¡¯ muscles to yield. They were all pushed aside, and the lyrkress¡¯ jaw was met with a heavy smack. It was an attack that was weaker by design. Vella could have easily run her face through, but she had used her weapon¡¯s butt and only pushed her away.


    ¡°Why are you holding back?¡± asked the spider, with a disappointed frown.


    Claire didn¡¯t answer. She only narrowed her eyes into a glare as she peeled herself out of the wall.


    ¡°Use your spells, Claire, the strong ones. Make me go all out,¡± said the goddess.


    But again, she stayed silent and unmoving, until she determined that it wasn¡¯t a ruse. Vella was genuinely confused.


    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± she said, quietly.


    Vella scratched the back of her head. ¡°What do you mean, you can¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°Are you blind, Goddess? Or daft?¡± asked Claire, with an annoyed stare. ¡°My magic circuits have been fried ever since I destroyed Tornatus. I haven¡¯t been able to cast anything decent ever since.¡±


    ¡°Oh, is that all? You should¡¯ve said something.¡±


    Vella formed a dagger in her hands and threw it at the qiligon¡¯s feet. It was a ridiculously fancy sword. The diamond blade was ensnared between a pair of golden serpents, and its hilt was adorned with a sparkling ruby that radiated with more magic and divinity than the goddess¡¯ body.


    ¡°That¡¯s Meicus, the blade of healing. It can perfectly repair anyone that it cuts. It can even fix the dead, though it can¡¯t exactly bring them back anymore with how pissy Xekkur¡¯s been lately.¡±


    Claire stared at the weapon for a few moments before she started to slowly lower her head. Using it was the correct choice. She might have hated the goddess, but her blessing was a boon, and she doubted she would be able to match her father with her circuits still in disrepair.


    But Claire had her pride. And Vella¡¯s proposal may as well have trampled it.


    ¡°Boris.¡± The blade turned back into a lizard and craned his head to meet his mistress¡¯ eyes. ¡°Consume.¡±


    The greedy ikarett immediately opened his mouth and got to work. His eyes glimmering, he tripled his length, extending the body until he reached the floor and took the divine relic between his teeth.


    ¡°W-wait! Stop!¡±


    Vella closed the distance between them and reached for the blade, but Claire tugged on the back of her feet and tripped her mid-dash. She immediately recovered and leapt forwards again, but it was too late. Boris had already swallowed.


    ¡°Give it back! Give it back right away, you stupid lizard!¡± The spider grabbed him and shook him as hard as she could, but nothing came out. She even pried open his mouth and reached into his gut. Claire clamped the ikarett¡¯s jaws shut, but it was too late. Vella had managed to retrieve the blade.


    Claire clenched her teeth. She had attacked the goddess with her tail in the meantime, but Vella had evaded the blow with a casual hop.


    ¡°Oh, thank the go¡ªmyself,¡± she said, as she breathed a sigh of relief. The weapon was still perfectly intact. When she looked up at Claire, whose flurry she was still avoiding, it was with a resentful frown. ¡°And here I was trying to help you out of the goodness of my heart.¡±


    ¡°You were doing it because you wanted a more entertaining fight,¡± said Claire.


    Vella clicked her tongue. ¡°Didn¡¯t Virillius teach you anything about manners? You were supposed t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Father taught me that not everyone is worth respecting.¡±


    The goddess¡¯ face twitched. Changing her weapon back to its speedy scythe mode, she lunged at the lyrkress with the healing dagger extended, but Claire shrank down to her humanoid form and twirled out of the way. The trick allowed her to dodge the goddess¡¯ first two blows, but the third found its mark. The blade was jammed into the qiligon¡¯s gut.


    But it failed to pierce her flesh.


    The dagger¡¯s point had flattened, revealing a lizard-like snout.


    And before long, the rest of its body followed. Reverting to his original, four-legged form, the Boris shook himself out of Vella¡¯s grasp, fell onto the ground, and scuttled away.


    Vella was thoroughly confused. She was so confused, in fact, that she almost failed to register that Claire had continued the assault. Had she not been in her fastest form, she surely would have found a brand-new scar carved into the side of her face.


    ¡°Now you have two choices,¡± said Claire, as she toyed with the tip of her tail. ¡°Either you end this stupid trial and give up on healing me, or I keep your dagger forever.¡±


    Vella groaned and lowered her weapon. ¡°There¡¯s really no point in the trial if you aren¡¯t at your full strength. Just let me heal you, damn it! It¡¯s for your own good!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not stoop to being healed by the likes of you,¡± said Claire.


    Vella groaned. ¡°I can ju¡ª¡±


    ¡°Try to take it back by force, and I¡¯ll have this Boris swap places with another one. You¡¯ll never see your dagger again.¡±


    The goddess¡¯ face twitched. She knew it wasn¡¯t a bluff. The function was one she had gone out of her way to add¡ªit was designed for seamless replacement in the case where the lizard had to face a weapon breaker¡ªbut as its creator, she also knew the amount of time required to invoke it.


    Removing the limits put in place by the trial, Vella raced across the arena and ripped the lizard out of Claire¡¯s hands. The entire sequence had taken no more than a microsecond. And yet, when she reached inside the lizard, she found that her sword was gone.


    There was only one possible explanation. Claire had swapped the lizards before she spoke the threat.


    When she looked up, Vella found the caldriess smirking. ¡°Alright, fine,¡± she said, as she breathed a sigh. It wasn¡¯t as if she couldn¡¯t give up Meicus, but the weapon had taken a millennium¡¯s worth of divinity to craft. It simply wasn¡¯t worth giving up. ¡°But only if you¡¯re willing to take my trial once you¡¯ve healed up.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll think about it,¡± said Claire.


    She summoned a Boris, retrieved the blade in his gut, and tossed it towards the goddess.


    ¡°Oh, and for the record,¡± said Claire, as Vella reached for the blade. ¡°Flitzegarde and I have been getting along quite well lately, and I do think she would be interested to hear it if you decided to go back on your word.¡± The arachne twitched; her intentions were clear as day. ¡°You know, just in case you were going to try to stab me with that stupid thing the moment you got it back.¡±


    ¡°O-of course not,¡± said the spider. ¡°A-anyway, goodbye! Come back when you¡¯re healed!¡±


    ¡°Only if you stop annoying me.¡±


    The goddess was already gone by the time the words left her mouth.


    She was back in the temple, in front of the altar with blood still leaking from her wounds. She had clearly escaped the spider¡¯s ploy. It was a complete victory.


    But she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that her father was right. And that though she had dodged her fangs, she hadn¡¯t exactly escaped the spider¡¯s web.

 Chapter 319 - The Northern Brigade III

    Chapter 319 - The Northern Brigade III


    Having dealt with Vella, Claire quickly visited the god of not having friends and confirmed her willingness to take on his request before heading straight for the shop. There was already a royal carriage waiting in front of it by the time of arrival, albeit not the usual one that delivered the maids and their master. Marcelle and her handler had been replaced by a turberus and an armoured driver, the latter of which watched the lyrkress with an annoyed glare.


    ¡°Took you long enough,¡± he said.


    Ignoring the man outright, Claire magically unlocked the building and drifted her way inside.


    ¡°Hey! Wait! Get back here!¡±


    He continued shouting after her, but she closed the door, barred it behind her, and restrained his limbs with her vectors. It was a necessary precaution. The obnoxious prick would certainly have knocked had she not taken the extra step.


    In the meantime, she proceeded towards the infirmary and performed the usual morning check. It didn¡¯t look like anything was wrong; Estelle was already asleep, and the only patient was a familiar face. Claire took a moment to examine him; she scrutinized the patch applied to the sleeping lobster¡¯s tail, and after confirming that it had enough mana in reserve, wandered back out front. Only after dusting the desk off and sitting down did she finally open the door and remove the angry knight¡¯s restraints.


    ¡°Welcome to Misadventures Incorporated. Who would you like me to kill?¡± She greeted him with a cordial smile as he stumbled into the door, not even flinching as she watched the twitching veins that adorned his hairless head.


    ¡°You know what I fucking need?¡± asked the orcaped. ¡°I need you to make your way to the goddamn castle! Be grateful. Her Majesty¡¯s going to be meeting you in person.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I happen to be a little too busy for that today,¡± said Claire, as she pointed at the calendar strung up behind her. ¡°I¡¯ve a few dozen assassinations to confirm by the end of the day.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t asking!¡± he said, as he slammed his fist into the counter. ¡°This is a royal decree!¡±


    Claire gave the man an annoyed look. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯m not listening to someone with no manners.¡±


    The man¡¯s veins were so swollen that they were about to burst. But in spite of his anger, he reluctantly took a knee and spoke through his gritted teeth. ¡°Lady Claire Augustus. The Queen requests your presence.¡±


    ¡°Oh my, how strange.¡± Imitating Arciel¡¯s mannerisms, Claire covered the bottom half of her face with a sheet of paper. ¡°Whyever would the captain of Vel¡¯khan¡¯s royal guard be bowing his head to a random citizen? Surely, it is not conduct befitting his station.¡±


    The man¡¯s face twitched like a drunken spider. He managed to stay in control for a solid three and a half seconds before his irritation finally took hold.


    ¡°Whose fault do you think that is!? Huh!?¡± he got to his feet and returned to the counter as he shouted, but Claire grabbed him by the face and stayed his approach.


    ¡°You do realise that she sent you here because she wanted you to work on your temper?¡± muttered the lyrkress. ¡°But here you are acting like a child. It¡¯s a wonder how easily the best of intentions is lost.¡±


    The man clicked his tongue.


    ¡°Shut up. I know,¡± he muttered. He took a deep breath and backed away. ¡°Sorry. You¡¯re right. I shouldn¡¯t be randomly flipping my top.¡±


    ¡°Good shark,¡± said Claire, as she patted him on the head.


    ¡°The fuck you say!? I¡¯m not a fucking sha¡ª¡± He caught himself in the middle of his sentence when he noticed the smirk on her face. ¡°Right,¡± he said with a cough. ¡°Let¡¯s go, Her Majesty awaits,¡± he said, as he started walking back out the door. Despite his poor attitude, he opened the carriage¡¯s door and waited for her to enter. ¡°Hold on,¡± he said, as he looked at the two creatures behind her. ¡°Where¡¯s Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°At home?¡± said Claire, with a tilt of the head. ¡°Did you really just notice? Are you sure you¡¯re cut out for this whole guard thing?¡±


    ¡°Shut it,¡± he grumbled as he closed the door behind her and crawled up front. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to pick her up before we head ove¡­¡± his words trailed off as he turned around to find the cabin empty and its door ajar.


    The girl he had been tasked with escorting had seemingly vanished without a trace. He likely would have found her had he been of the mind to look up, but the consideration of vertical space had never been his strongest suit.


    While he bumbled around and panicked, Claire did a quick loop around the city. She grabbed her remaining pet and flew straight into the castle with all three animals in tow. Unlike their obnoxious captain, the rest of the royal guard couldn¡¯t be bothered to stop her. They even opened the front door preemptively when they noticed her descending from the sky.


    Just a few minutes later, she was overlooking one of the castle¡¯s courtyards. Joining the queen, who sat facing the rampart¡¯s inner wall, she watched a series of fast-paced duels in the arena beneath her. The soldiers engaged in the exercise fought with sharpened blades; it fell to the medical staff to deal with any wounds that grew too worse for wear.


    There were twenty of them in all. Most wore banners on their sleeves, adorned with the crests of the nobles that had supported their nomination. By the sounds of it, there were another fifty-odd candidates slated for arrival. The only fighters already present were locals, namely the most elite guards and mercenaries the ministers had in their employ.


    Frankly, they were disappointing. Only a small handful were thrice ascended, in spite of the free experience that was the civil war. And even then, not all of them were worth their salt; three of the four were being pushed back by their twice-ascended peers. Claire was tempted to write them off as incompetent and send them straight home, but she had decided to postpone any decisions until the training regimen was put in place. If they were lucky, at least one of the idiots would find themselves enlightened by a flash of inspiration.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± said Arciel, as she brought a cup to her lips.


    ¡°Morning,¡± said Claire. She lifted Sylvia off her head and set her down in the queen¡¯s lap. The fox was still asleep; she had remained unconscious throughout the trip. ¡°You called?¡±


    ¡°I did,¡± said the squid. ¡°It just so happens that I received a revelation from Griselda last night. She instructed us against teleporting our way into Cadria and provided a path with several locations that might serve as fair training grounds along the way.¡±


    ¡°What a coincidence,¡± muttered Claire. ¡°Flitzegarde gave me a quest that effectively forbids the use of portals.¡±


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    ¡°A coincidence indeed,¡± said the squid, with a huff. ¡°I would have liked them to warn us of the impending decision before I completed the documentation.¡± She snuck a glance at the lyrkress. ¡°Assuming that it is our intention to comply, of course.¡±


    Claire frowned. ¡°I¡¯m still thinking about it.¡± She leaned onto the rampart¡¯s walls and rested her face in her hands. ¡°But it¡¯s starting to look like listening is going to be the better choice.¡±


    Arciel blinked. ¡°I shan¡¯t lie to you, Claire, I was expecting vehement refusal.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps if our fighters were more powerful,¡± she muttered, as she watched the warriors cross blades. None of them really stood out. ¡°This group isn¡¯t giving me much hope.¡±


    Arciel smiled awkwardly. ¡°The only two that have been decent enough to impress are currently resting, following a rather lengthy duel. I believe you are already acquainted with both, however.¡±


    ¡°The Penhorn brat and Ray¡¯esce¡¯s maid?¡±


    ¡°Precisely,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I have heard a number of rumours concerning another individual worth recruiting. Matthias is currently in the midst of fetching him, and I believe he is to arrive within the next few days, should negotiations progress as seamlessly as expected. Whatever the case, I would like to continue training this group, as well as any others that demonstrate a willingness to fight. There may still be a hidden talent or two whose potential remains untapped.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re hoping for too much,¡± muttered Claire. ¡°But fine. I¡¯ll go play around with them a bit and see if anyone catches my eye.¡± She stretched her back before assuming her qiligon form and stepping up onto the rampart¡¯s wall.


    ¡°I shall prepare a set of revised documents in accordance with Griselda¡¯s revelation,¡± said Arciel, as she also got up.


    ¡°And I¡¯m gonna keep napping,¡± mumbled Sylvia, who was still half asleep. She lifted her head, only to immediately look the other direction and start fiddling with her paws when she caught Claire¡¯s gaze.


    The behaviour was odd enough that it demanded a curious look from Arciel. ¡°Whatever is the matter?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°W-w-what are you talking about? E-everything¡¯s n-normal,¡± stammered Sylvia.


    ¡°You will have to inform me of the details at a later time,¡± said the queen, as she set Sylvia back down in her chair. ¡°Ah, yes. Before I leave, would you mind introducing me to that new friend of yours?¡± Arciel¡¯s eyes were on Starrgort, who had been following Claire like a shadow ever since her arrival. ¡°I do believe that he accompanied us on our previous¡­ expedition as well.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Him.¡± Claire frowned. ¡°That¡¯s one of Vella¡¯s minio¡ª¡± The lyrkress froze midsentence. After a few moments of awkward silence, she closed her eyes, lowered her head, and cradled it between her front legs.


    ¡°Claire?¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± she said, before kicking off the rampart and leaping onto the training grounds.


    Discussing Primrose with Vella would have to wait for another time. Even if it was important business that she forgot, crawling back to the goddess on the same day she supposedly outwitted her would be akin to admitting her loss.


    ___


    The weeks that followed the initial recruitment were busy but largely uneventful. Claire spent most of her days going between the shop and the castle, with the latter slowly seizing more of her time. She was swamped around and right after the solstice, but the volume of requests died down soon after. It was the expected outcome; there were only so many people wishing death on others, and most had gotten their grudges out of the way during the time of year when they were most easily recalled.


    It was not just the mortals that cleared their hearts during the busy season. Claire eventually visited Vella again and chastised her for her theft of the harvest goddess'' lover. The spider herself had been rather smug about the whole affair, even citing that famine was an excellent excuse to wage wars, but she quickly changed her tune after Claire spent a few days offering up her homecooked meals; it appeared that not even the so-called master tactician was immune to the beautiful scent of blackened, expired eggs.


    Primrose''s mood didn''t brighten up immediately, but finally free from the spider goddess'' constant harassment, she did at least renounce her status as a social recluse. Whether that meant that a famine could be avoided was still in the air, but whatever the case, Claire''s work was done. It was up to the goddess¡¯ followers to handle the rest.


    Cadria''s official declaration of war came by way of messenger around the same time, and true to form, the soldier responsible for delivering the statement made a failed attempt on the queen''s life following his proclamation. The rules were precisely as initially described. The two nations would wage war by proxy, with each selecting seven champions to duel before the public eye. The tentative date was listed as the following year''s summer solstice, plus or minus two months in either direction. Nothing outside of that range was negotiable; there were too many Cadrian races that were dysfunctional in the cold, and Virillius'' government had every intention of shaping the war into a public event.


    Though there was some resistance at first, the Vel¡¯khanese government had ultimately taken a similar stance. It was better for its image if it came clean, and at least some of the ministers figured that a public announcement would serve as bait to attract glory-seeking warriors confident enough to fashion themselves as champions.


    Sylvia had been responsible for air-dropping pamphlets on every major settlement to better inform them of the circumstances at hand. The resulting outing had doubled as an opportunity for the fox to clear her mind. Her awkwardness was gone by the end of the trip; she stopped avoiding Claire and returned to her usual clingy self.


    All was at peace, in spite of the conflict at hand.


    At least in Vel¡¯khan.


    The Cadrian people were not quite as carefree. The entire nation was embroiled in an endless cycle of pre-war violence. Every notable warrior was engaged in a contest with every other. Day in and day out, they trained and sparred, hoping that it was they who would be selected for the four positions not yet reserved.


    Of the three claimed, one obviously belonged to the king himself, for there was no fighter in the country capable of besting Virillius Augustus. The Invincible but Impotent Knight, General Durham Vespran, had claimed the second seat. He was the royal guard¡¯s chief instructor, and it was well-known amongst the populace that his fourth ascension was just a skip away.


    Prior to her retirement, the Grand Magus would have filled the last reserved slot. Like Durham, Allegra¡¯s level was nearing a thousand and her combat prowess was far beyond that of any competitor. Alas, having already declared that she would have nothing to do with Virillius¡¯ reign, the rabbit-shaped caster had ignored the king¡¯s summon.


    Her spot had nearly been claimed by an unexpected volunteer. In a bid to rekindle their friendship, and to mend the bridges between their nations, King Ragnar of Kryddar had offered to fill her void, but Virillius refused on account of the political ramifications. There were simply too many ways for things to go south for it to be worth the risk. The Kyrddarian king was instated instead as an arbiter and observer. His ultimate skill would be used to preserve the representatives¡¯ lives so that they could fight without having to worry about any consequences that extended beyond the contest¡¯s term.


    The third reserved position was presented to one Julius Antonius Evander instead. He was the lord of Cadria¡¯s second ducal house and a pureblooded cottontail with five hundred years experience. His father was the royal springblade¡¯s inventor, and he was the warrior that had perfected the art. But even with so many accomplishments under his belt, there were some that debated his legitimacy. Alas, the voices only lasted so long, for the rabbit soon silenced them with the edge of his blade.


    There were too many viable candidates for any of the remaining four slots to be final. Scattered throughout the Cadrian lands were over five hundred soldiers with their races thrice ascended. The headcount grew slowly year-over-year, but nearly half the individuals were cycled out with each count; hundreds of Cadrians were achieving their third ascensions each annum. And hundreds were dying in the pursuit of more.


    To consider adventurers, craftsmen, and other individuals unaffiliated with state institutions would only boost the numbers further. If they were all rounded up, the resulting headcount was no doubt beyond a mere thousand or two. The voluntary nature of Cadria¡¯s military service meant that those individuals could not typically be called to arms, but the fervour of the recruitment drive ensured that all the best came crawling out of the woodwork. Each of the four representatives would be paid a hundred pounds of gold¡ªan amount that no sane fighter could possibly disregard¡ªand etched into history¡¯s annals as one of the greatest warriors to ever step before the public eye.


    And so, within the Valencian colosseum, the selections began. The nation¡¯s brightest minds observed the candidates with their pens and papers ready and sought the four mightiest instruments with which they would orchestrate the fall of Vel¡¯khan.

 Chapter 320 - The Northern Brigade IV

    Chapter 320 - The Northern Brigade IV


    Claire scanned the street-side shops as she slowly walked through the beachside market. It was still so early in the morning that the sun had yet to rise, and yet, the makeshift shopping district was bustling with life. Housewives, restaurateurs, noble servants, and hungry gourmets scoured the shops in search of rare items and deals. The early morning was when the fishermen returned from their overnight trips; their freshest and most valuable catches would be gone by the time the sun awakened. It was a scene that had been impossible to imagine just a few months prior, but the cartels once in charge of the industry had all been dealt with and dissolved.


    With their criminal overlords deposed, the local fish suppliers were free to set their own prices and sell their goods to whomever they pleased, hence the morning market''s creation. Of course, as with all things, the cartel''s non-presence was not a strict benefit. Even the dimwitted leeches that were their common thugs had served some purpose or other.


    Without anyone to rein the fishermen in, the market had effectively devolved into a ball of chaos. People set up their shops wherever they wanted and a non-insignificant number of ne''er-do-wells went as far as placing themselves in the middle of the road. They were not the only ones that deterred prospective customers from simply walking down the aisle. The most reputable fishermen didn''t bother setting up in the bazaar at all. They parked their boats on the shore instead and waited for customers to approach.


    The idea was naturally poached as soon as it caught on; less-skilled fishermen with lower-quality products soon emulated the behaviour and eliminated all semblance of its worth, which in turn drove the more reputable fishers to change their presentations and the copycats to follow suit yet again. So on and so forth the war was waged, until there were people and boats randomly scattered all over the beach with no way of easily distinguishing between the skilled and inexperienced. Claire didn''t particularly care, however. She bought up all the salmon on the market, regardless of its source, and headed straight for the Vel''khanese castle.


    She invaded the kitchen upon her arrival, assumed her humanoid form, and filled the room with her recent acquisitions. After laying her purchases on the floor and loosely sorting by quality, the lyrkress grabbed the rest of her ingredients out of the cold room and got to work. She started by washing several Borises and turning them into a set of kitchen utensils. With him as both the knife and the cutting board, she chopped up all the salmon and dunked each in a bowl of marinade. Pulling out the bones was typically the most time-consuming part of the process, but her vector magic allowed her to handle it with ease.


    Likewise, it only took her a second to chop up all the vegetables and garnishes, so she was left with nothing to do but stand around as she waited for her pre-oiled pan to warm to the appropriate temperature. The only problem was that she didn''t exactly know what that temperature was. The chef had mentioned something or other about the need for sweltering heat, but Claire felt no such thing. She had no choice but to simply try it and see.


    Her first ten attempts resulted in horrible abominations. Half the results were burnt black, even though she took extra care to prevent them from catching fire. It was a mystery how the other half was practically raw, even though she had them in the pan for the same amount of time.


    Still, with over a hundred fish at her disposal, she was eventually able to whip up a functional dish and arrange it atop a silver platter. It wasn¡¯t perfect. There were still charred bits stuck to some of the pieces, but the taste was far better than any of her usual creations.


    With the dish finally prepared, she carefully covered it with a lid and made her way back home. She quickly plopped it down on the kitchen table as she arrived before climbing up the stairs and shaking her pet awake.


    ¡°Mnnnnn... Is it morning already?¡± The fox mumbled the line in a groggy stupor as she rolled over and captured Claire¡¯s hand between her paws. She continued rubbing her cheek against it, refusing to let go even as she was lifted off the bed and spirited away.


    ¡°It''s almost noon,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Noon?¡± Sylvia¡¯s eyes slowly fluttered open. ¡°Wait, really? Already!? Why the heck didn''t you wake me up earlier!?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t feel like it,¡± said the moose. She tickled the spot beneath the fox''s chin and scratched her belly as she slowly wandered her way back down the stairs.


    ¡°But the sho¡ª¡± A twitch of the nose froze the fox mid-sentence. ¡°Uhm, is it just me, or do you smell like fish?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Knowing that she couldn¡¯t possibly hide it for long, Claire squeezed the dog closer to her chest, turned the corner, and stepped into the kitchen. The table was already set; there was exactly one icy fork ready for use, the size of which had been tuned such that it was strictly fox-compatible. Normally, Boris would have been around, waiting for scraps to consume, but he had already eaten his fill back at the castle. All six incarnations active that morning had doubled their weight without the associated skill. Starrgort had done the same. He was still in the kitchen, in fact, belly up in the wake of the lyrkress¡¯ hundred-fish adventure.


    ¡°Wait a second¡­¡± Sylvia turned a pair of suspicious eyes on the cloche-covered plate abducted from the castle. ¡°Is that what I think it is?¡±


    ¡°I made breakfast.¡±


    Sylvia opened her mouth to complain, but Claire pinched her lips shut and revealed her creation before she could.


    It wasn¡¯t exactly the most artistic rendering, but she had more or less arranged the fish to form the shape of a rose. The individual pieces were slotted sideways and curled inwards to better form the flower¡¯s delicate petals. The whole thing had been lightly cooked in a dark braising sauce with the edges seared for extra flavour and the cores heated just enough that they were flakey to the touch.


    ¡°Wait a second. You made this?¡± asked Sylvia, with exactly three blinks.


    ¡°What are you trying to say?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmmm, just that it looks really good.¡±


    ¡°Everything I make is good.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t a literal goddess beg for mercy earlier this month after you sent her a bunch of your cooking?¡±


    ¡°She was simply so pleased with my dedication that she happened to change her mind.¡± Claire tenderly ran her fingers through the fox¡¯s hair and scritched the base of her ears.


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    ¡°Mmmmnnn, I dunno about that one,¡± said Sylvia, as she leaned back into the scaly talons. They looked sharp and intimidating, but they were surprisingly pleasant to the touch. They were especially comfortable in the summer months; a few hints of the true ice that made up their cores could be felt through the tips of their extremities.


    ¡°Shush,¡± said Claire.


    She pinched the fox¡¯s nose, set her down on the table, and pushed her towards the fishy dish. Sylvia was a little reluctant at first, but she eventually took a bite, and then another, and then a third. By the fourth, the dish was gone, taken into her infinite stomach and stashed away.


    ¡°How was it?¡±


    ¡°Some of it tasted a little burnt, but it was pretty good. Did you make it all by yourself?¡±


    ¡°I spent all morning putting it together.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± The fox opened her eyes wide. ¡°What¡¯s the special occasion?¡± The question only earned her an exasperated, silent stare, to which she replied with a tilt of the head.


    ¡°Stupid fox,¡± muttered Claire. She pulled the forest critter back into her arms and made for the front door.


    ¡°Oh, come on! Tell me already! I¡¯m never gonna get it if you don¡¯t explain.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t feel like it, so no.¡±


    Claire turned into a qiligon, threw Sylvia on her head, and took to the sky. The fox was still somewhat confused, but she didn¡¯t say much more. She turned her eyes to the sky instead and watched the glimmering horizon as they slowly rose above the city. It was the usual scene in the usual place, only a few hours later than the usual time.


    And yet, everything was different.


    The streets that were empty in the mornings were teeming with workers, tourists, and entrepreneurs, and the bioluminescent creatures that could sometimes be seen in the dark were muted by the light of the sun. It wasn''t as busy as it was during the morning rush, but people could be seen walking to and fro all over in search of their midday meal. For some, it was the only meal they would have that day, or perhaps even that month. Races that traditionally specialised in ambush hunting, like Arachne, often fasted for two weeks at a time.


    On a normal day, Claire would have looped around the city and perhaps even visited a nearby destination, but she bothered with exactly none of that. She set her sights on the castle instead and headed straight for its glimmering gates. She could have easily flown right over them and landed in the courtyard, but Claire went through the official process of waiting for the guards to process her admission. It was not exactly the usual behaviour, but visiting Ciel was common enough that Sylvia thought nothing of it. Together with her mutual pet, she walked down the path, entered the castle, and followed the maid that served as their guide.


    Normally, they would have gone up and around so they could await the queen in her private wing, but the servant led them to a larger hall on the first floor instead. Opening the door revealed a thirty-seat table covered in food and a number of familiar faces gathered around it. Many of the guests were friends she saw each day¡ªBoris sat on the table with a candle balanced atop his head, Ciel stood right by the door with her arms crossed, and Chloe stood right behind her with a tray of sweet treats in hand¡ªbut they were hardly the only people invited. Her mother was sitting on a plate, already half drunk in her fairy form and her father was sitting around with his lips in a bitter pout. Even Alfred''s wand had managed to make the occasion; the magical stick was working overtime to project its owner upon the world beyond his reach.


    Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, from a certain lyrkress'' perspective, a projection was all that there was. Alfred could see and hear everything in his wand¡¯s vicinity, but Flitzegarde''s rules ensured that his voice was never carried. Still, his presence alone was enough to bring Sylvia a smile. With so many other foxes gathered in the space, it was almost like she was back home in the village. Most of them were around her mother''s age or older; she had never made many friends amongst the other kits her age, but the elders had always praised the rapid growth of her strength. Even though it had only stemmed from her endless boredom.


    Her gloom only lasted for a moment. There was no point dwelling on the past when the present was so much more entertaining. So she sat up in her seat, turned to the guests, and greeted them with a wave.


    ¡°Uhmmmm... hey everyone. What¡¯s all this about?¡±


    Claire lifted the fox off her head and gave her an unamused stare.


    ¡°It¡¯s your birthday. Idiot.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice. ¡°Uhmmm... my birthday is next week.¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence. The Vel¡¯khanese were taken by a storm of confusion, while their queen joined the foxes in giggling up a storm.


    Claire was less amused. Slowly turning her head, she walked right up to the blood witch and slammed a claw into the ground beside her. ¡°Ciel. Explain yourself.¡±


    It was the Vel¡¯khanese monarch that had set the party¡¯s date, which was to say that it was the Vel¡¯khanese monarch that was the source of her embarrassment. It was clear from her giggling that she was in on the joke, but that particular aspect only grabbed Claire¡¯s attention at first. There was something strange about her laughter. The cadence was wrong, off by just the tiniest bit.


    ¡°You¡¯re not Ciel.¡±


    ¡°You could tell?¡±


    ¡°Easily.¡±


    The supposed queen''s face twisted into a grin as the statement was made, with her face and body changing soon after. She shrank a few centimeters, though she was still taller than Claire¡¯s humanoid form, and grew a little thinner, especially around the chest. Her features were still similar to Arciel''s, but the slant of her eyes made the impression of a more forward disposition. At the same time, the real Arciel stepped out from behind one of her guards with her giggling fit hidden behind the usual red fan.


    ¡°She is one of my aunts,¡± said the squid, ¡°and one of the few to have made a full recovery, in spite of the harlot¡¯s machinations.¡±


    ¡°I am Arceline Vel¡¯khan. It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person,¡± she said, with a curtsy.


    Sylvia tilted her head for a moment. ¡°Oh wait! She¡¯s the one Al fixed last week!¡±


    ¡°She shall be placed in charge of the kingdom during my time abroad, and it is she that will inherit the throne should the worst come to pass. This appeared to be as good a chance as any for the two of you to meet.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t explain why you told me the wrong day,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°The reason for that is rather simple,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I determined that we would simply not have the time. Our candidates have finally all gathered, and we shall soon initiate the training regimen as planned.¡±


    ¡°You could have told me that ahead of time,¡± muttered the qiligon.


    ¡°I certainly could have, but I found it far more entertaining to keep quiet,¡± she said, with a smile. ¡°Was the fault not yours, for failing to confirm the date with the person in question?¡±


    Claire returned the smile with a bright grin of her own. ¡°I guess this means we¡¯re not doing anything for your birthday this year.¡±


    ¡°Now you wait just one moment,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Is that not undue retaliation? I demand you reconsider.¡±


    ¡°Too bad.¡± The qiligon stuck out her giant, forked tongue and left Arciel gawking in her wake.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said Sylvia, with a giggle. ¡°She¡¯s probably just kidding.¡± She jumped off her favourite chair and landed in the queen¡¯s arms.


    ¡°Your lack of confidence is not what I would precisely describe as inspiring,¡± muttered the queen.


    ¡°Uhh¡­ sorry,¡± she said, as she was snuggled. ¡°It¡¯s kinda hard to tell sometimes, you know, with Claire being Claire and all that.¡±


    ¡°Certainly. I sometimes find that she has difficulty communicating her emotions.¡±


    ¡°You do realise that I can hear you.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmmm, we don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about!¡± said Sylvia, with a giggle.


    Ignoring the mildly annoyed stare that followed, she slipped out of Arciel¡¯s grasp and dove into a pile of fish. There may have been a few days left until her birthday, but surrounded by all the people she so dearly adored, she was the happiest that a fox could be.

 Chapter 321 - The Northern Brigade V

    Chapter 321 - The Northern Brigade V


    Arciel looked over a ledger as her carriage bumped its way through the busy streets. On a normal day, she would have climbed aboard Marcelle¡¯s airborne carrier, but the manatee was out on an adventure with her lizard-shaped friend. As such, she settled for a standard turberus-drawn coach and slowly made her way towards the western district.


    Her personal knight was her sole accompaniment; he was the only person in the castle ready to go at a moment¡¯s notice. Everyone else was too busy preparing for departure; the maids were packing clothes and food, the royal guard was reviewing its security measures, and Claire was in Cadria, attending another one of her father¡¯s lessons. Matthias¡¯ freedom stemmed from neither an empty schedule nor a feat of organizational competence. Rather, it was all thanks to his wife. The missus, who had visited the capital to see him off, had already sorted out his luggage and coerced him into completing his various tasks. She had recently joined the castle¡¯s staff as one of the queen¡¯s personal maids; the last of their children had finally left the nest, so she seized a post that would allow her to keep a close eye on the fool she called her husband.


    Said husband had just recently seen his genitalia returned. Alfred¡¯s operations had healed enough of Arciel¡¯s kin that her closest advisors were no longer concerned with the royal bloodline¡¯s extinction. Her family¡¯s revival had come as a great relief; Alfred had saved her from undesired reproduction. The rear palace¡¯s restoration was subsequently put on hold, with all the scheduled funds poured into community projects instead. The project was slated to resume following an economic uptick, but Arciel had every intention of delaying it for as long as she could. She had never been particularly interested in having children, and learning the process¡¯ details from her aunt had only further dissuaded her. Tentacles were not meant for such disturbing applications.


    Discarding the thought with a tired sigh, the squid turned her attention away from her squirming legs and looked outside the carriage. They were nearing their destination. The streets were almost perfectly clear, but not because the district was depopulated. The arviads simply preferred their aerial routes. The eldritch bird people came in a variety of different shapes and sizes, ranging from owls to pigeons to sparrows and hawks. Their approximate body shape was the only consistent thing about them, besides their impressive average level.


    Most prominent among all the arviads was the divine protector known as Meltys. With her abilities bolstered by a holy relic, the large pink duck was the species¡¯ most powerful member. She was a master of the primordial flame and one of the few Vel¡¯khanese citizens that the squid suspected she was unable to defeat. Not even her third ascension could make up the difference wrought by the bird¡¯s absurd divinity. She was a perfect candidate for the upcoming war, but she had never responded to the nationwide call.


    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± said Matthias. He stopped the carriage in front of a particularly tall building before opening the door for his master. ¡°Want me to come in with you?¡±


    Arciel paused for a moment to consider. ¡°That will not be necessary.¡± She stepped down from the carriage and approached the front door. By all means, it was an overdue visitation; there was only a week left before they would have to depart. She would have preferred a much earlier communication, but their schedules had never aligned. Ciel was too busy scouting the road ahead and filling in the gaps in Griselda¡¯s instructions; she had only a few rare moments of spare time, few of which were long enough to cover the bird¡¯s recruitment. In the meantime, Meltys had been flying back and forth between Vel¡¯khagan and the new arviad settlement located a few dozen kilometers away. The royal squid had considered sending a messenger on her behalf, but she had ultimately dismissed the option on account of its lack of sincerity.


    With the opportunity finally extended, the squid raised her hand to the door and gave it a knock. A confused squawk came from the building¡¯s interior. A bit of flapping and quacking later, the door was opened to reveal everyone except for the divine protector.


    ¡°Hello.¡± Falgwyn, Meltys¡¯ mother, stood in the hall with her younger child sticking his head out of a nearby room. She didn¡¯t recognize Arciel immediately. She was a little confused at first, snapping to attention only as she looked past the queen and saw the fancy carriage in which she had arrived.


    ¡°Good afternoon. Might I speak with Meltys?¡± asked the imperial bloodkraken.


    ¡°Of course,¡± said Falgwyn. ¡°Come right in. I¡¯ll show you to our guest room.¡± She spoke cordially as she led the squid further into the house. Her son followed the pair through the halls, though he stayed a fair distance and fled each time Ciel looked in his direction.


    ¡°Please have a seat wherever you¡¯d like,¡± said the bird, as she slid open a large room. There were a few cushions placed next to a low table, as well as a number of perches set at different heights. ¡°Would you like some tea while you wait?¡±


    ¡°I shall refrain, thank you,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Then she¡¯ll be with you shortly.¡± Excusing herself, Meltys¡¯ mother closed the door and left Arciel with her thoughts.


    The queen took the opportunity to look around and examine the room. The design was admittedly haphazard. The buildings that they had thrown together for the arviads certainly took their occupants into consideration, but at the end of the day, they were rush jobs. The carpenters responsible had focused more on the speed with which they erected the houses than on any of the particular details. Still, it looked like they were serving their purposes correctly.


    The numerous scratches on the removable perches confirmed that they were seeing continued use, and the bits and pieces of the house she had seen all looked fairly lived in. The room¡¯s outer edges were especially well decorated. The walls were covered in massive sheets of paper. Each had only a single piece to its name, which caught everything from one corner to the next. Though fragile enough to break at the slightest touch, the coverings were largely unblemished. The only visible damage sat right at the level of a certain duckling¡¯s beak. Perhaps that was why most of the illustrations were painted closer to the ceiling. The few on the ground level were simple scribbles made in messy ink¡ªclear evidence of the child''s misbehaviour.


    Artwork aside, the room was of a primarily minimal style. There were a few simple vases placed around the wooden shelves and some native flora placed within them, but that was about the extent of the decoration.


    The door slid open again right as she finished the thought. Meltys walked through the entrance with her eyes narrowed and her beak twisted into a pout. She was never exactly in the best of moods to see the squid and her friends, especially not after Claire had bothered her for more information on the use of her divinity.


    ¡°Hello,¡± said the duck, curtly.


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    ¡°Good afternoon, Meltys,¡± said Ciel. ¡°Have you already heard of the conflict looming over our heads?¡±


    The duck walked up to the tea table and sat down on a cushion. But even then, she didn¡¯t speak up. She spent a few seconds tapping a wing against the desk before she finally responded. ¡°I have.¡±


    ¡°I would appreciate it if you were to volunteer your services.¡±


    Meltys narrowed her eyes into a glare. ¡°I will not.¡±


    ¡°Might I ask the reason?¡±


    The duck ruffled her feathers and narrowed her eyes. ¡°Have you already forgotten how you attacked our people and drove us from our homes? We were never allies. I only worked with you to prevent my species¡¯ destruction.¡±


    ¡°I am well aware.¡±


    Arciel knew that there was nothing to be said. She had certainly provided an alternative to Pollux¡¯s eradication, but at the end of the day, the divine protector was entirely correct. The squid had slaughtered her people and ordered Skyreach Spire¡¯s destruction. And though she had offered some degree of compensation, her crimes weighed more on the arviads¡¯ mind than the helping hand extended. To assume that the eldritch birds felt any debt of gratitude was but a foolish delusion. And though she had hoped for her fantasies to establish themselves in reality, the squid was prepared to face the stage that she had set.


    ¡°Still,¡± she looked the bird straight in the eyes, ¡°I wished to make the request. You are one of the most powerful duelists that resides within this nation¡¯s borders. Even knowing of our history, I have little choice but to plead with you in person.¡±


    The duck met the admission with a hostile glare, but Arciel continued regardless.


    ¡°I have no intention of allowing your efforts to go unrewarded. I have budgeted two thousand pounds of gold for this district¡¯s development in the coming year. If you are willing to comply, then I shall not only triple that number but push forward legislation to provide you with a rank and fifty thousand acres of inheritable land. I shall even provide a contract, sworn before the goddess of order, that dictates your domain as irrevocable so that no future Vel¡¯khanese monarch may ever reclaim it for herself.¡±


    It was an absurd offer. And yet, Meltys remained silent. She tapped a bright orange foot against the floor as she closed her eyes and brooded. Her expression started to soften. But still, she shook her head.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Arciel, but I cannot accept. I do see that you¡¯ve done your best to treat us fairly and earnestly. As the leader of my people, it would likely be the right choice to take your hand and accept your offer. But I cannot.¡± She turned her head towards the doorway, and after a few moments of inspection, began speaking under her breath. ¡°I cannot possibly bring myself to risk my life if it means leaving my mother to bear the burden of raising my brother alone.¡±


    Falgwyn¡¯s restaurant was doing fairly well. It drew in a few dozen each night, and it was even growing in popularity among the indigenous Vel¡¯khanese. Money was not an issue, but the same could hardly be said for time.


    ¡°She works long hours, often fifteen or more a day, and she still insists on doing everything around the house. The only chance I have at stopping her from overexerting herself is to complete all the chores before she comes home. She¡¯ll work herself sick in the weeks or months that I¡¯m away. I don¡¯t want to even begin to imagine the state she¡¯d be in if I never returned.¡±


    Arciel clenched a fist under the table. ¡°I understand. I shall ask no more.¡± The queen rose from her seat and moved towards the door. ¡°I will leave you to your business. You are free to forget that this request had ever come to pass.¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± Meltys also got to her feet. ¡°There is no need for me to forget it in its entirety,¡± she said. ¡°While I have no intention of becoming one of your champions, I do intend on playing a role.¡± She paused briefly, her breath heavier than usual. ¡°Arciel Vel¡¯khan. I will defend your capital during your absence. I don¡¯t know what other enemies you have, but none of them will pass through the castle¡¯s gates for as long as my flame is lit.¡±


    Arciel smiled. ¡°Thank you, Meltys. I shall leave my people under your wings.¡±


    Not saying another word, the queen saw herself out. She reversed her way through the halls, wandered out the door, and after taking a moment to stare at the sky, climbed back into the carriage.


    ¡°No dice?¡± asked Matthias, from the driver¡¯s seat.


    ¡°She was more understanding than I had expected, but no, unfortunately not,¡± said the squid. She closed the door behind her and leaned on the window. The lazy pose crimped the edge of her giant witch hat, but she couldn¡¯t be bothered to care.


    ¡°You¡¯ll want to pull the curtains if you¡¯re going to do that,¡± said the thrice-ascended rhiar. ¡°That¡¯s not exactly the kind of look you¡¯d want the people to see.¡±


    ¡°I shall in a moment.¡±


    Despite her words, the queen¡¯s hands remained unmoving. She continued gazing out the window as the scenery started to move.


    She had always known that it was better not to depend on Meltys¡¯ cooperation, but it was not as if the prior knowledge had softened the blow. The fact remained that they needed to fill another four slots. The first three were owned by Claire, Matthias, and herself. She would have welcomed the erdbrecher matriarch with open arms, but the elephant people had long vacated the country. There were still a few weaker individuals, who had stayed behind because they happened to like the environment, but most had returned to the sands and dunes that they called their home; it was they that had led Claire across the desert when she murdered the target their boss had named.


    Though it was shameful to admit, an ideal lineup would have been made almost entirely of foreigners. Even Matthias was technically a transplant. He had lived in Vel¡¯khan for long enough to earn his citizenship many times over, but he had been born and raised in Primrose¡¯s grove; his people typically served as deterrents, tasked with guarding the goddess'' domain against unwanted outsiders.


    The lay of the land was the leading cause of Vel¡¯khanese weakness. More specifically, the fault stemmed from a lack of local threats. The dungeon density was simply too low, and the few that housed higher-level creatures were effectively without overflow. Sometimes, it was because they had installed defensive measures, as was the case with Farenlight¡¯s den, but in many other cases, the dungeons were simply configured in such a way that disasters were unlikely to occur. The Vel¡¯khanese people rarely ever felt the threat of violence. And that was why their levels were low¡ªso low that they had no choice but to request foreign aid when faced with a dungeon with a simple stormy shield.


    They were simply not prepared to face a nation whose average soldiers were as powerful as their elites. They might have stood a better chance had there not just been a coup. The previous queen''s most trusted men had been strong enough that they might have stood a chance with some training. Alas, they were dead. None had survived the night of her ascension.


    There were a few fighters making names for themselves through the colosseum, but it was not as if the individuals in question had broken away from the Vel¡¯khanese norm. They too were weak enough to be summarily dismissed. Even with Griselda¡¯s plan laid out before her, the squid was in a state of half-panic. Sylvia was the only person within the nation¡¯s borders already capable of standing toe to toe with a Cadrian champion, and she was banned from the roster.


    Claire had been vehemently opposed to her participation, citing matters of pride and prejudice. The fox herself didn¡¯t quite seem to mind helping; Arciel suspected that she could convince the lyrkress if the situation proved dire enough.


    Her only other hope lay with Matthias¡¯ friend, a supposed masterful fighter by the name of Ace. According to the mantis, who had paid the person in question a visit and confirmed his participation, he was sure to blow her away.


    But even then, assuming the best conditions, they were only up to five.


    She had no way to make up the difference.


    Not unless Griselda¡¯s plan produced a set of miraculous results.

 Chapter 322 - The Northern Brigade VI

    Chapter 322 - The Northern Brigade VI


    Claire flicked her tail to and fro as she crested a familiar hill. It was winter. It wasn''t supposed to be winter; the summer solstice had only recently passed, and fall had yet to come, but it was winter nonetheless. A thin layer of snow covered the grasses beneath her feet and the tree that sat upon the summit was painted in a layer of glimmering frost. There was a familiar silhouette sitting beneath the snowy branches, a humanoid creature adorned with two ears, a tail, and a head of short, orange-brown hair.


    She was hunched over, scribbling her thoughts into her diary with exactly none of her focus on the rest of the world. She didn''t perk up until Claire crested Catnap Hill and sat down beside her. Without a word, Lia leaned over, entrusting her weight to the lyrkress'' shoulder. It was the usual behaviour. The catgirl''s cheeks were hot enough to ward off the winter winds and her heart was pounding with the intensity of a roaring forge. In spite of the fact that she had initiated the contact.


    And for a while, that was how they remained. Neither said a word. They only enjoyed each other''s company in silence as the snow slowly fell on Vel''khagan. It was only a few minutes later, after she finally calmed, that Natalya tried to speak. But Claire heard nothing. Not from the catgirl¡¯s lips, nor the rest of the world. Everything was dead silent, as it often was in her dreams. A heart-wrenching pain coursed through her frame as she turned her eyes on Lia¡¯s lips and found herself unable to read them. It didn¡¯t make sense. They were clear as day, but somehow, somehow, they remained impossible to interpret.


    Her confusion mounted as she continued to stare. The world around her began to change. The hill vanished. Lia disappeared. Her body suddenly fell into a pitch-black, infinite abyss.


    She opened her mouth to scream, only for water to fill her lungs. She couldn''t breathe. It felt like she was choking to death, even though she knew that she had no need for air.


    And then, her eyes shot open. She rose from her bed, wheezing as she pressed a hand to her chest, only to panic when she found herself incapable. She flailed around as she desperately tried to find her limbs, knocking over her chair and her wardrobe before the world came into focus. It was only then, as she looked at herself, that she recalled that she was in her qiligon form.


    Despite the disturbance, wherein her bed shifted and jumped around the room, Sylvia stayed sound asleep throughout the ordeal, her face buried in the caldriess'' mane and her arms around one of her ears. The fox was in her larger, humanoid form; she had taken to sleeping in it despite spending most of her waking hours as an adorable, fluffy rat.


    Sighing to herself and laying her head back on the bed, Claire turned her eyes out the window and gazed upon the moon. It had only just started to descend; it was far too early to rise.


    She slowly shook her head before assuming her humanoid form and catching Sylvia out of the air. The unconscious vixen started reaching around in her sleep for something to hug, so Claire shoved the furball''s own tail between her arms and set her back down on the bed.


    With that matter settled, she grabbed a familiar object off the drawer and moved to her desk with it hugged to her chest. She bit her bottom lip as she fiddled with the leatherbound book. She had carried it on her person ever since its previous owner''s departure; it had long become as familiar as the shard buried in her chest. And yet, she had never once undone its clasp. She had tried several times before, but the thought of learning Natalya''s thoughts and discovering her hidden pain had always stayed her hand.


    But with the catgirl''s gentle touch still lingering on her skin, her fear was momentarily abated. Still shaking, she reached for the strap and carefully unhooked it from its belt. Thoughts of turning back immediately flooded her mind, but she discarded them with a shake of the head and flipped the diary open. An index appeared in the space in front of her, detailing all of the diary¡¯s contents, the sheer volume of which clearly exceeded the limits of a book''s physical frame.


    The table of contents was formed as a series of headers, each with an author and a date. The most ancient were over four thousand years old, written well before the lyrkress'' time. Though she was curious, she ignored the longstanding entries and flipped to the first penned by her late friend''s hand. It has been written over ten years prior, scribbled by what was clearly a child''s hand. The sheer disparity between the chicken scratch and the neat documentation produced later in the cat''s life sufficed to inflict a twinge of pain. It reminded the lyrkress how little she knew. She couldn''t even recall the catgirl''s age.


    Still, she pressed forward.


    Biting her lips a little harder and drawing a trickle of blood, Claire caught her breath and gently traced a finger over her friend''s lost words.


    109832 - 5 - 4 - 8


    Dear Diary,


    I don¡¯t really know what I''m supposed to write, but Lina''s gonna be sad if I don¡¯t use you. I think mom said that I''m supposed to write about everything that happened today, so I¡¯m gonna give that a try! Today was a really good day. Mom cooked lots for dinner. She made all of Lina''s favourites again. The stewed pumpkins were really sweet and juicy, but I still like corn better. I''m gonna try really hard at practice tomorrow so Mom makes my favourites too.


    Lia.


    It was a meaningless, silly entry written by a brat. And yet, Claire''s breath was stuck in her throat. Something in the back of her mind was begging for her not to continue. She tried to press on in spite of it, but her hands were shaking, trembling so violently that she found it almost impossible to flip the page. It was a pathetic display, an obvious show of weakness that never would have been allowed back home. But she was not her father and his rules were none of hers.


    Closing the book with a vector, she brought it to her chest and wiped her dampened cheeks with her nightgown''s sleeve. Silently, fearfully, she returned it to its position on her nightstand and crawled her way into bed. She assumed her smallest form, hugged Sylvia''s tail, and curled up into a tiny, trembling ball.


    And then, there was darkness.


    Her body went straight to sleep, but her mind was still active, taken into the usual empty void with all of her thoughts still perfectly intact. Normally, she enjoyed the extra time. It allowed her to plan the next day and even compute strategies that allowed her to navigate tricky situations. But with her mind where it was, the blessing was more of a curse. She was stuck, alone in the darkness with only her thoughts still swirling up a storm.


    She didn¡¯t know how long it lasted. But at some point, she shrugged off her surging emotions and reached into the depths of her chest. The key buried within it took her straight to the phantom¡¯s home. She lumbered through the doorway after making herself presentable and stepped into his living room with her ears held high.


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    There was another person within the space. Claire was suspicious at first, but sneaking around the blurry couch revealed a familiar, nine-headed beast present in a form long lost. The lizard in question was fiddling with one of the phantom¡¯s magical devices, manipulating the buttons and sticks with graceful dexterity while Claire contemplated its continued existence. None of her spirits had bothered her since her ascension. She had almost forgotten about them entirely.


    Her guardians had only ever spoken to her when she was alone, and there was far less of that than there had ever been. Most of her time was spent with Sylvia, and she was always busy with other things during the few moments they parted. It didn¡¯t help that Headhydra was the group¡¯s least noticeable member. She rarely said anything out loud, opting instead to ignore Claire while the other two blabbed away at every given opportunity.


    The rude thought appeared to be conveyed in some way or other, as one of Farenlight¡¯s heads suddenly whirled around and shot the lyrkress a glare.


    ¡°How dare you!¡± she said. ¡°You killed me! You can¡¯t just turn around and forget I exist!¡±


    Claire shrugged. In her mind at least, it wasn¡¯t really her fault. Headhydra was only one of the many large monsters that she had slain, and her killing had never been particularly memorable.


    Again, her thoughts were transmitted; the beast lowered its heads and sulked. ¡°Give me my life back.¡±


    The impossible request was met with a series of blinks; mimicking Sylvia, Claire fluttered her eyelids exactly three times and left the nine-headed snake equally frozen and appalled.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough of that,¡± said the phantom. He handed Claire an artifact and pointed at the glowing box. ¡°This is how we settle our differences around here.¡±


    Claire accepted his device with a frown and seated herself on the couch. Only the leftmost cushion remained; the man¡¯s body was in the middle and Headhydra was on the far right. All three of them had artifacts in hand, and all three of them manipulated the people that appeared in the glowing box.


    The contents themselves were not quite the same as usual. The humanoid that she controlled was seated on top of a miniature golem with just enough space for one. It bore a very slight resemblance to a carriage, given the four wheels on which it was supported, but there was no creature to pull it nor any reins to seize control. The golem itself was what raced around the track and competed against the entities manipulated by the other two.


    It was a strange experience. Her directions were relayed to the driver, who in turn spun a wheel like a ship¡¯s and manipulated the golem¡¯s path. The others had operators more accustomed to the golem¡¯s handling¡ªgiven the way that they spun their servants¡ªthe end result of which was an entirely unfair defeat.


    Headhydra gloated despite the clear disparity and left Claire with her fist itching and a vein bulging in the side of her head. She was about to issue another challenge when she realised that something strange had happened. Looking at the phantom, she pointed towards his body and opened her eyes wide.


    She had always assumed that the flesh was something pulled from a distant memory. But they had just interacted with it. He had been part of the race. And he had come in first.


    His ghost laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head. ¡°It¡¯s complicated, and there isn¡¯t enough time to explain.¡±


    As if on cue, Claire felt the morning sun against the lids of her eyes. If the fingers brushing against her cheeks were any indication, she was due to return to reality. She stuck her tongue out at Headhydra before opening her eyes and confronting the fox that was toying with her scales.


    ¡°Good morning, Sleepyhead.¡±


    Sylvia¡¯s face was only a few centimeters away. It was the only thing she could see, with a canvas of multi-coloured hair blotting out the rest of the scene.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ putting a smile on your face, I think?¡± said Sylvia.


    Her hands were doing just that. They were holding Claire¡¯s cheeks, pulling them outwards and up to force her lips into an upwards crescent. Claire was not quite as happy with the development. Lunging, she bit the other halfbreed right on the nose, just hard enough for her to recoil.


    ¡°What the heck was that for!?¡± cried Sylvia.


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me,¡± said Claire. She tackled the fox before she could recover and reversed their previous positions. From there, the lyrkress buried her face in her pet¡¯s shoulder and wrapped her arms around her waist.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire?¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    ¡°Bu¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡± A tight squeeze robbed Sylvia¡¯s lungs of any air still stuck inside.


    ¡°Claire! I can¡¯t breathe.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, ¡®good?!¡¯ You¡¯re choking me!¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    Ignoring any further complaints, the tiny halfbreed held the fox prisoner for another few seconds before suddenly returning to a seated position. Feeling much better, she stretched out her back and returned to her usual size.


    ¡°Ughhh, what the heck was all that for?¡± cried her victim.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just felt like it.¡± She lightly pinched the fox¡¯s nose, which happened to be wet for some mysterious reason, before climbing out of bed and changing her clothes. Though not usually an early riser, Sylvia did the same; she grabbed an outfit out of her tail and threw it over her otherwise naked body.


    Claire didn¡¯t exactly understand why the fox refused to use the dresser, but she refrained from raising the point. The pet would no doubt argue that she didn''t use it either.


    Neither halfbreed was wearing her usual attire. Their bodies were draped instead in Vel''khanese uniforms of the naval variety. Claire¡¯s was really just her runecloak with its form changed, so its silken fibres were not exactly representative of the regular fare. Sylvia¡¯s, on the other hand, was standard issue. She had taken it straight from the barracks after Arciel informed her that everyone had to match. The dark blue outfit was woven from a special variety of cotton with long, water-resistant strands. Its bottom half was a skirt, largely to accommodate people like the halfbreeds, who had to deal with tails that otherwise didn¡¯t fit inside of their pants. In another country, the men would have had a different uniform and a different solution, but the Vel¡¯khanese didn¡¯t mind. It was normal for men to wear women¡¯s clothes in formal settings and vice versa. Skirts were a welcome part of every well-off citizen¡¯s wardrobe.


    ¡°Do you have everything?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°I think so,¡± said Sylvia. The fox had already packed all of their luggage into her tail just the previous night, not that it mattered much in the first place. Sylvia could always teleport back if it turned out they¡¯d missed something important.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s go.¡± Claire grabbed Boris off the bed, turned him into a familiar Paunsean rapier, and hung him off her waist. For a moment, she considered giving Starrgort the same treatment, but she quickly dismissed the idea and made for the kitchen.


    Breakfast was ready and waiting. Myne, the maid responsible for its creation, was already sitting at the table with her portion half-digested. Being a slime, she had skipped all of the other steps by simply shoving everything inside of her stomach, though the precise part to which that referred was rather nondescript. Slimes were almost entirely stomach. Only ten percent of her body was meant for any other function.


    ¡°You¡¯ll want to hurry,¡± said the maid, as she moved to fill their plates. ¡°Her Majesty wants us there within the hour, and it¡¯s already half past.¡±


    ¡°Whym waleddy bwon vin aeck,¡± said Sylvia, with her cheeks stuffed like a squirrel¡¯s. She swallowed the contents a moment later and proudly puffed up her chest. ¡°See? All done. Now we¡¯re just waiting for Claire.¡±


    ¡°Stupid fox.¡± Sighing, the caldriess raised the plate to her mouth and shovelled its contents inside.


    It was unbecoming, but she put up with it nonetheless. They would need to arrive early if they wanted to make a half-decent impression.

 Chapter 323 - The Northern Brigade VII

    Chapter 323 - The Northern Brigade VII


    A qiligon-shaped Claire sipped tea from a wide dish as she watched the troops and their morning routines. Technically, her role was to scout for talent, and technically, she was not meant to be carrying out the responsibility just yet. Though there were a fair number of idiots that she fully intended to deny, she had been forbidden from kicking anyone out until the first three dungeons had been marked off the expedition¡¯s trail; it was only as they approached the nation¡¯s northern border that the judgement would be delivered.


    ¡°Why am I doing this?¡±


    The person standing in front of the lyrkress twisted her lips into a pout as she swung a mop back and forth. With each attack came a minor adjustment. Vectors prodded at her limbs and put them into the positions that a Cadrian would have likely considered appropriate.


    ¡°Because you said you were tagging along. Now shut up and keep swinging or I¡¯ll tell Ciel that you don¡¯t want to do her laundry anymore.¡±


    There was no guarantee that her countrymen¡¯s martial arts were in any way applicable to the human¡¯s frame, but Claire was largely unbothered. Nymphetel had done a fair job of adapting to the springblade¡¯s style; she saw no reason for Chloe to struggle.


    ¡°Ughh¡­ fine.¡±


    The maid took a deep breath and raised her weapon again, but a jab to the ribs stopped her before she could bring it down.


    ¡°Aim forwards. Not down.¡±


    ¡°How th¡ª¡±


    ¡°I was watching your eyes. You¡¯re also using the wrong muscles.¡±


    The maid sighed as she adjusted her stance and took another swing. ¡°Why did I sign up for this?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re a dumb pervert,¡± said Claire. ¡°That swing was a little better, but you forgot to use your hips. Put your back in it.¡± There was a swish and a clack as the maid followed through on her instructions. ¡°Good. Now do that another thousand times.¡±


    ¡°A thousand!?¡± complained the maid. ¡°How the h¡ª¡±


    ¡°Ciel said that you can grope her breasts for a few seconds if you can pull it off.¡±


    Chloe¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Really,¡± lied Claire.


    ¡°Consider it done.¡± The maid immediately resumed swinging. She took a breath between each and focused on her body. It wasn¡¯t as if all of her mistakes suddenly went away, but her movements were sharper and more refined.


    Leaving her to her own devices, Claire moved on to observing another group of housekeepers. Chloe was not the only one scheduled to tag along. Skilled as she was, it was simply impossible for a single maid to handle a hundred people¡¯s worth of chores. Of course, while they were certainly training for combat, the maids were not being considered for the competition. Their practice was a means of self-preservation¡ªa method of ensuring that they could at least try to protect themselves if they happened to come under attack.


    The prime minister¡¯s recommendation was the only exception. His personal maid and adopted daughter, Sophia Ray¡¯esce, was a trusted member of the secret service. Her race was that of an ascended kelpfin, though she didn¡¯t exactly look the part. Everything below her shoulders was entirely humanoid, save for the teal sharkskin that covered her body in its entirety. She had gills on her neck and an almost dolphin-like tail that grew from the back of her head. If not for its length and the flippers at its end, it would¡¯ve blended in with the rest of her hair.


    She would have been assigned more typical fieldwork had she a more benign appearance, but her unique frame disqualified her from the usual station. As such, she had been enlisted as the prime minister¡¯s personal guard. As was clear from her designation, she was highly skilled in combat. One after another, she had defeated the other candidates and proven her strict superiority. Not even the pirate brat won against her. Sophia¡¯s focus on blistering speed made for a poor matchup; Lana and her heavy weapon were simply unable to keep up.


    The pirate in question had retreated to a far corner of the training grounds ever since the loss. There, she swung her axe as quickly as she could, refining her movements so they would not be so easily overcome. She would have made for the spitting image of a warrior if not for a certain fox; Sylvia was standing on her head, imitating her motions and expressions for no reason that Claire could easily discern.


    It was as she contemplated the absurdity of the scene that the royal guard¡¯s captain finally stepped out onto the field. Technically, he was on time; he should have used his presence to encourage the others to begin their training earlier, but he had never been bright enough to come to such a realisation on his own accord.


    ¡°Attention!¡± he shouted. His voice was loud enough to echo through the courtyard. Still, while they all turned their heads towards him, not all of the troops were quite inclined to listen. Distaste and contempt ran rampant throughout the crowd; his reputation was hardly the best. ¡°I¡¯m Philippe Kha¡¯oen, the captain of the royal guard. I will be in charge of your training.¡±


    There was a moment of silence as the man scanned the training grounds.


    ¡°As we have already communicated to all of you independently, today marks the regimen¡¯s beginning. Over the course of the next half a year, we will be devoting our bodies and souls to further refinement. We will be following a schedule provided to us by the goddess of the moon herself. Her trail will take us northbound, towards our enemy¡¯s domain as we continue to struggle and grow. And that is why we will be the Northern Brigade.¡±


    The orcaped twisted his lips into a smile.


    ¡°We will depart with the midday bell. Gather your things and say your farewells. Let us meet at the city¡¯s northern gate once you have all prepared.¡±


    The announcement was largely just a formality. All of the participants had been provided a copy of the itinerary well ahead of time, and the maids that had delivered the information had gone on to answer all the accompanying questions and queries. That was why it was particularly strange for one of the men to raise a hand and query the captain directly.


    It was clearly an anomaly, but as he was, Philippe nodded in the man¡¯s direction and encouraged him to speak.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


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    ¡°There¡¯s something I¡¯ve been meaning to ask.¡± The speaker was a large clam with half of a humanoid body hidden within his shell. ¡°Why is someone that''s weaker than the queen supposed to be in charge of protecting her? Hell, why is someone that¡¯s weaker than us in charge of our training?¡± A murmur shot through the crowd. Few others were quite as forward with their antagonistism, but even those that disagreed with his outburst felt like the man was hardly without a point.


    Evidently, even Philippe himself believed the statements to be true, as he only sputtered without answering the question. He was level three fifty, and the average level of the men gathered was four seventeen. Not even throwing the maids into the equation could put him above the average. He knew that, of course, but knowing and accepting the truth were two different beasts in their entirety. Philippe''s anger flared. Had a certain magical glare not paralyzed him outright, he certainly would have blown a fuse and lost a physical altercation.


    ¡°Different people have different strengths. The captain¡¯s isn¡¯t combat.¡± Claire slithered over to the man in question as she spoke. Philippe immediately shot a glare, as if to accuse her of not defending him, but she ignored and gazed upon the crowd instead. Frankly, she felt like she was already doing him enough of a favour. She didn¡¯t even know what his strengths were meant to be.


    ¡°Who are you, his woman or something?¡± said the clam, as he cocked his shell. ¡°I¡¯m not about to listen to some dick suc¡ª¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes and flexed her talons, but another candidate bonked the clam before he could draw any more of her ire. The attacker¡¯s fist broke through the shellfish¡¯s natural armour and hit him right in the back of the head.


    The man in question flashed a toothy grin when Claire turned her glare upon him. The clam-puncher was a lizardman with a slender frame. He was just shy of two meters tall, and the fine graining of his scales suggested that he was more of a skink than a crocodile or iguana. His colouration was on the darker side. His body was a muddy brown, with a deep green highlight that was most prominent on his head and tail. His neck was inked with a series of tattoos, but the red scarf he wore obscured the details of their shapes and symbols.


    ¡°Sorry. I figured you¡¯d kill him if I let him ramble anymore.¡±


    ¡°No, not at all,¡± said Claire, with a gentle smile. ¡°I was just planning on taking him on a quick misadventure.¡± After watching his reaction for a moment or two, the lyrkress lost interest and returned to her previous position.


    The scarfed lizard didn¡¯t think much of the statement, but when he looked around, he found half the others as pale as ghosts.


    ¡°You guys okay?¡± he asked, with a curious scratch of the head. ¡°She wasn¡¯t really that scary, was she?¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s who I think it is, then you don¡¯t know the half of it,¡± said a bipedal shark. He briefly glanced at Claire¡¯s back before raising a fin to his mouth and whispering under his breath. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s the headhunter.¡±


    ¡°The who?¡±


    ¡°The headhunter, man. You ain¡¯t heard of her?¡±


    ¡°Ain¡¯t ringing a bell.¡±


    ¡°You must be new around here or something. The headhunter is the crazy assassin that¡¯s been running rampant in town lately. She¡¯s killed a few nobles like it¡¯s nobody¡¯s business, and plenty of high-profile businessmen too.¡±


    ¡°And they¡¯re letting her run free?¡± The lizard cocked a brow.


    ¡°They say it¡¯s ¡®cause she¡¯s untouchable. You can report whatever, and the crown¡¯ll straight up turn a blind eye. Her being here is pretty much proof.¡±


    ¡°Now hold on a sec. Ain¡¯t the headhunter supposed to be a real pretty girl?¡± Another man, a turtle with a moustache as wide as his body, joined the conversation with a confused mutter.


    ¡°Seemed like a looker to me,¡± said the lizardman. ¡°Those were some shiny scales.¡±


    ¡°The guy I heard that from was an elf. Doubt he was into scales,¡± said the turtle. ¡°Oh, nearly forgot to introduce myself. Name¡¯s Maurice, westwater draul.¡±


    ¡°U¡¯ula, greatreef kelpfin,¡± said the shark.


    The pair turned their eyes on the lizardman. ¡°Nice to meet you, gentlemen. I¡¯m Ace. I¡¯m an arclight lizardlord.¡±


    ¡°Ace? Doesn¡¯t sound native,¡± said Maurice. ¡°You not from around here or something?¡±


    ¡°Nah,¡± said the lizard. ¡°I¡¯m an adventurer, came from further west. Happened to be escorting a caravan when I heard about the situation.¡±


    The turtle cocked a brow. ¡°You¡¯re a bit of a weird one. Most adventurers would head the other way if they heard of stuff like this.¡±


    Ace laughed. ¡°Thought it would be fun. I¡¯ve always wanted to try fighting a Cadrian or two. Not to mention I¡¯ve got some friends in the area, so y¡¯know.¡±


    ¡°Good man,¡± said U¡¯ula. ¡°Extra hands are always welcome during tough times like these.¡±


    ¡°Just glad to help, Mister.¡± The lizardman chuckled. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯d love to stick around and chat some more, but I was planning on giving myself a tour of the city before we left, and it¡¯s looking like it ain¡¯t happening if I don¡¯t get started.¡±


    ¡°In that case, you might want to head over to the northern wharf. It¡¯s where all the tourist stuff is,¡± said Maurice.


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± said Ace. He lightly waved at the other men as he turned around and headed for the castle gates.


    Heeding exactly none of the turtle¡¯s advice, the lizardman haphazardly wandered around the city, inspecting the state of the business and people. It wasn¡¯t as if he had no interest in the tourist attractions¡ªit was always fun to see the kinds of experiences that locals prepared for foreigners like himself¡ªbut the man had higher priorities.


    He watched the people¡¯s faces as he paced through the city and carefully listened to the rumours whispered between them. His lack of ears made the latter exercise more difficult than it would have been for another agent, but spying on normal citizens was simple enough that he went largely unhindered. The supposed free rein of an assassin had worried him for a moment, but at the very least, nothing seemed wrong at a glance.


    ¡°Maybe it was just a baseless rumour.¡± Muttering the conclusion under his breath, the man stepped into an alley and released a faint, magical pulse. It was so subtle that it was nearly impossible to detect with the cityscape the way it was. And yet, his coworker responded in kind.


    Another man entered the space just a few minutes after the confirmation. Like Ace, he was of a race that didn¡¯t stand out in Vel¡¯khan. To be more precise, the man was a grug, namely an extremely rare ascended variety known as a thousand-year frog. It was impossible to tell him apart from an unascended peer based on his appearance alone. Increased stat growth aside, the only differences were his exaggerated lifespan and the faint golden glow that exuded from the tip of his tongue.


    ¡°Got any news for me, Mister Relay?¡± asked Ace.


    ¡°It¡¯s about what you¡¯d expect.¡± Even for people capable of telling grugs apart, Relay was especially unnotable. With bright orange cat ears, lime green skin, and the most boring facial features in the world, he was the spitting image of his species¡¯ average male. ¡°Everyone¡¯s settled into position, but nothing¡¯s been caught on the hook just yet.¡±


    ¡°Figured as much.¡± The lizard breathed a sigh and entrusted his weight to the wall. ¡°Guess that means I¡¯ve got my work cut out for me.¡±


    ¡°Best of luck,¡± said the grug, with a chuckle. He reached into his bag and retrieved a pair of cigars. One, he popped in his mouth, while the other was offered to his companion. ¡°Local brand. Won¡¯t give you away even if you give it a go.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± said Ace. He snapped his fingers and lit both their cigars aflame. For a while, neither man said a word. They simply sucked on their smokes and basked in the city¡¯s ambience. ¡°Doubt we¡¯ll have any more chances like these for a while.¡± Ace eventually broke the silence with a tired sigh. ¡°Almost makes me wish I wasn¡¯t stuck doing all this crazy shit.¡±


    The grug laughed. ¡°Says the idiot that picked the mission.¡±


    ¡°Hey, it was between this and the catacombs, and I don¡¯t know about you, but I ain¡¯t got a death wish.¡± The lizard flashed a toothy grin before patting the frog on the back and walking out of the alley. There was certainly more work to be done than expected. But to the lizardman in question, the only thing that mattered was that he had found an excuse to ignore the idiots that ran their HQ.

 Chapter 324 - The Guardian of the Ironclad Abyss

    Chapter 324 - The Guardian of the Ironclad Abyss


    ¡°Halt!¡±


    The captain of the royal guard brought the march to an abrupt end as the army reached its first destination. As per the sign, its name was Sunsand Beach, and it was a long stretch of sand with a distinct, yellow-brown hue. Colour aside, there was little about the area that stood out. They had been walking alongside the sea ever since they first set out; the long stretches of crushed shells and stones had occasionally been interrupted by the odd salty mangrove, but otherwise, it was all the same. The only landmark that Chloe could make out was a particularly large cave, carved into the side of a cliff.


    They were barely three hours out from the capital, but it had already become something of a distant memory. The commander¡¯s army-wide speed boost had allowed them to travel nearly thirty kilometers. That very same skill had kept the tiny brigade from tiring out, though it was largely the maids and mages that required the extra assistance. Most of the warriors appeared unbothered, perhaps with a light sweat on their skin at most.


    ¡°This location marks the first training ground,¡± said the commander, in his booming voice. ¡°As outlined in your instructions, you will be forming parties of four, each with three combatants and a maid to attend to your needs. Parties that fail to return with maids perfectly intact will be disqualified immediately; their protection is your top priority. Be aware that your parties have already been decided and that substitutions will not be accepted. Come up front as your name is called. U¡¯ula, Martine Lambert, Hugo¡­¡±


    Chloe breathed a sigh as she watched over the boring formalities. One by one, the summoned groups approached a portable shrine and formed the parties demanded of them, and one by one, they vanished into the darkness.


    Like all of the other maids, Chloe was already aware of her assignment, and like all the other maids, she was mildly annoyed. It wasn¡¯t the danger that bothered her, but rather the fact that her services were required at all. In the first place, the maids were not the only housekeepers. The butlers could have easily shared in the responsibility, but some idiot or other had suggested that the fighters would feel more motivated if they had cute girls doing their chores, and a poll among the trainees soon confirmed that maids were strictly superior.


    The rationale was clear. Female candidates preferred maids because they were uncomfortable with men handling their undergarments, and the males shared the preference because they were perpetually in rut. There''s always the potential upside of finding one¡¯s mate, as some of the other maids had noted, but Chloe was far from hopeful. It wasn¡¯t as if she had no interest in men per se. She was simply more attracted to Arciel than she was to the opposite sex.


    Even if she were to look for a husband, she was unlikely to find anyone suitable in the crowd. Rowdy soldiers and cocky, self-proclaimed heroes were completely outside the scope of her interests. An ideal male partner would have to be someone cold, distant, and domineering, perhaps like the man who had raised the moose standing behind the expedition¡¯s commander.


    His status as a widower was arguably icing on the cake, but she didn¡¯t have enough time to fully consider the ramifications. As the third party¡¯s attendant, she soon walked up to the stage and met with the rest of the team. According to her beloved queen, Chloe¡¯s group was expected to be among the frontrunners, though the group¡¯s outwards appearance gave no such indication. The first member was a wrinkly elven mage nearly too elderly to walk, while the other was a palm-sized rock with a disproportionately massive beard. Sophia, the last member, was known for her competence, but she didn¡¯t exactly look the part of the archetypical warrior.


    ¡°Sophia Ray¡¯esce, everglade landshark. Vanguard. Reporting for duty.¡± The prime minister¡¯s heir was the first to introduce herself. She spoke in a cheerful tone, albeit one that was more professional than friendly.


    ¡°I¡¯m Chloe. Human plus. I¡¯ll be taking care of cooking, setting up camp, and other miscellaneous chores.¡± It was the standard first-level ascension. Unlike many other races, humans were unable to diversify right off the bat. It was only after acquiring their second that they could adapt to specific lifestyles and environments. Chloe, for her part, had hers all planned out. She was living in a vampire¡¯s castle and drinking blood every evening to bolster her chances of becoming one with the night.


    ¡°Krail, greenwood high elf. I¡¯m aware that I don¡¯t quite look the part, but you can more or less think of me as an archer,¡± said the knife-ear, despite his lack of a bow.


    ¡°The name¡¯s Enrique Garcia, and I¡¯m best in a melee, but I can pretty much do whatever, depending on what we kill. I¡¯m a Dwarven Mindrotter, so I¡¯m pretty flexible.¡±


    The rock was the last to introduce himself. Somehow, he spoke in a booming voice despite the lack of a throat, or really any organs at all. For his race, such was the norm. Dwarves were effectively creatures made of energy, with their beards serving as their true forms. Not all of them were quite as abstract as Enrique, however. It took three full ascensions for beard people to discard their flesh outright, and his particular subspecies was well known for infesting inanimate objects, though it remained a mystery as to why the man in question had chosen a pebble.


    He was one of the few that Chloe had yet to see in combat. The rolling stone had refrained from sparring with the other candidates in public. The only impression he left was that of a lazy oaf; it was a mystery as to how he had found himself in a party of supposed frontrunners.


    Whatever the case, it wouldn¡¯t be long until she found out. Like all the other groups, they quickly formed a party and headed to the entrance, where the logistics department distributed their supplies. The task of carrying them, of course, fell onto the maids. Some groups were helpful, with candidates volunteering to handle the heavy burdens in their stead, but Chloe had no such luck. The rock was too small, the elf was too aged, and Sophia outright refused, stating that it would hinder her speed.


    Left with no other choice, the human begrudgingly threw all two hundred pounds of equipment on her back, breathed a sigh, and approached the dungeon''s entrance. She was about to step right in, as many of the other parties had done, but the elf grabbed her by the oversized knapsack and pulled her away before she could.


    ¡°Wait,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s much better to be cautious when it comes to times like these. I¡¯ve seen far too many lose themselves to a lack of knowledge.¡± He coated his staff in a thin layer of mana, raised it to eye level, and lightly pushed it forward. Chloe had assumed that he was lighting the way, but the glowing stick only sent a ripple through the darkness. Apparently, it was something that the mage was able to interpret. His lips twisted into a scowl, the elf holstered his weapon, clicked his tongue, and turned to the mission''s commander. ¡°What the hell is the meaning of this absolute nonsense?¡± he asked, with a low grunt.


    The knight returned an oblivious, entirely thoughtless stare, but the serpentine moose standing behind him met the question with an amicable smile. ¡°It¡¯s exactly what it looks like,¡± she said. ¡°A trial.¡±


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    ¡°You call this a trial!? Are you serious!? You¡¯re practically begging for casualties at this rate! Never in all my years have I ever seen an instanced dungeon that goes as far as sep¡ª¡±


    "I¡¯d rather you didn¡¯t say the rest out loud." Claire grabbed the old man by the face and threw him straight into the dungeon before he could finish his thought, leaving only a distant scream as he vanished into the darkness.


    There was a brief moment of silence, wherein everyone stared at the cave, followed by a wave of noise and murmurs.


    "Does anyone else have any complaints?" she asked, with her smile still pristine. That, of course, only spurred even more muttering, with some discussing her ruthless methods, and others pointing out the ease with which the elf had been endowed with the miracle of flight. "Good. Now hurry it up. We don¡¯t have all day." When the commander didn''t immediately respond, she drove her foot into one of his tentacled legs and ground it until its colour changed. "I said, we don¡¯t have all day."


    "R-right," said Philippe, as he struggled to keep a straight face. "Next, we have the fourth party. Ace, Maurice..."


    Smiling awkwardly, Chloe turned her eyes back towards the dungeon and marched straight inside. Claire had clearly ingrained the impression of an angry tyrant into the crowd, but knowing her personally, the maid could tell. She was far from angry. If anything, she was having fun, and that was all the more reason to escape the scene before the caldriess came up with another one of her crazy ideas.


    The cave continued to dim as they ventured deeper. Neither the kelpfin nor the dwarf seemed to mind, but Chloe had to light a torch to better see through the darkness. The sand beneath her feet was quickly replaced by a thick layer of stone. It was greyer than the beach, but there were still hints of brown running through the walls, likely streaks of rusted iron. She half expected the cave to open up into a larger cavern, or perhaps to at least see the flames lit by the parties in front of and behind her, but strangely, there was nothing.


    At least not until she was assaulted by a sudden dizzy spell.


    Raising her head again, she found that the whole world had changed. The stone corridor was gone. She was standing instead on top of a cliff that overlooked a massive mausoleum. The building itself was even larger than the castle, with hundreds if not thousands of pillars on each of its six sides. Once white, the structure shone a dim grey beneath the faint moonlight, which somehow streamed in through the gapless rocks above. The brilliant beams only served to highlight the many creatures that wandered around the circular cemetery. They were all undead, with skeletons and zombies making up the bulk of the crowd. There were wraiths floating around the air as well, their ghastly wails echoing through the massive chamber as they drifted to and fro.


    Chloe looked to the rest of the party when one of the spirits drew dangerously close, but no one was anywhere to be found. The only thing behind her was another piece of the wall. That was when it finally hit her. The elf had been complaining on her behalf. If everyone was scattered upon entry, then it would no doubt be the support mages and non-combatants that were in the most danger.


    ¡°Oh for gods¡¯ sake! Claire!¡± She cursed the lyrkress with a whispered shout before opening her log and double-checking for relevant information.


    Log Entry 14679


    You have entered the dungeon known as The Ironclad Abyss.


    This is one of my handcrafted trials, and it is of the standard variety. You may clear it by defeating the monster at the dungeon¡¯s core.


    The monsters that inhabit this dungeon typically reside within the level 400-500 range. More powerful monsters are expected to reach level 700, however, there is no limit to which this level may rise.


    She groaned as she looked over the landscape again. A closer inspection revealed that the various skeletons and zombies were not just simple grunts. Though they had long decayed, the fleshier monsters¡¯ robes had bits of embroidery worked into their hems. Likewise, many of their bonier cousins were wearing golden rings and equipped with fancy, bejewelled swords.


    The various add-ons and accessories would have served to highlight their pasts had they truly risen from their graves, but as dungeon spawn, they were simply decorations, extra pieces added by the goddess to hint at their abilities. In either case, Chloe wanted nothing to do with any of them. She didn''t know exactly what level they were, but she was willing to bet that the floating skeletons were liches, and not of the book-obsessed, friendly variety that could occasionally be found living among the blackroot elves.


    With her relative inexperience in combat and her impressively low level, the maid had zero intention of picking a fight.


    The smartest thing to do when lost in the middle of nowhere was to leave some indication of one¡¯s presence and sit still, but the wraiths were getting too close for comfort; they were bound to find her if she sat around. Fortunately, there was a clear landmark in sight. She suspected that all the others would be making their way straight to the mausoleum, and at least from what she could tell, there was only a single entrance.


    The path leading to it was a bit of a maze, however, with all sorts of twists and turns and far too many walls to count. Memorizing the layout was far beyond the scope of her capabilities¡ªthe maid forgot what she had hidden under her own skirt half the time¡ªbut she did have a secret weapon.


    Strapped to her thigh was one of the trump cards distributed to each of her coworkers. The enchanted parchment was a real-time map of the dungeon, which featured everything from her present location to the monsters nearby. According to the instructions at least, she wasn''t supposed to use it unless there was some sort of emergency, but as far as Chloe was concerned, the rule was more of a suggestion meant for less trying times.


    A few minutes of planning later, she rose from her seat and set out for her destination. Her weapons were held in her hands. Like most other maids, Chloe specialized in the use of small arms, most notably daggers, needles, and hidden blades. As a whole, the maid class was akin to a mutated rogue, retaining even the bonuses to assassination. Stealth was the only thing missing. It had been replaced instead with boons that aided in the completion of household chores.


    Cleaning up the undead was, unfortunately, not on the list of inclusions, and it was largely that bit of knowledge which drove the human to pretend she was a rogue. She slinked through the shadows, following her preplanned path as best she could as she tried her best to avoid combat. It almost looked like it was working. She got past a group of skeletons, a horde of zombies, and even a pack of wraiths by holding her breath and blending into the shadows. But there was only so long that her luck was able to last.


    Poking her head around a corner, she found herself face-to-face with a crowned zombie. For a moment, neither of the two reacted. Chloe stayed still in hopes that it would fail to see her, while the zombie, on the other hand, was desperately connecting its half-rotten synapses to register the sudden stimulus.


    The momentary dysfunction lasted for two seconds. For two, whole, magical seconds, it looked like time had stopped. But then the zombie opened its jaws. Grabbing her by the arms, it went straight for the head where her perverted but delicious mind was desperately deluding itself into a false sense of security. She barely dodged in time. Screaming at the top of her lungs, she somehow shook off the zombie and broke into a run. She didn''t know or care where she was going. All that mattered was that the zombie was behind her, sprinting at nearly the same speed with its hands grasping and its tongue hanging from its jaw.


    The panic completely offset the efforts she had put into avoiding her enemies. Everything in range of her screech suddenly swarmed towards her, attracted by the foreign sound.


    ¡°No! Stop! Go away! I didn¡¯t sign up for this!¡± Chloe continued to scream as her feet pounded against the stone beneath her. She pushed as hard as she could in a desperate bid to escape the mob, which only continued to grow every time she rounded a corner.

 Chapter 325 - The Guardian of the Ironclad Abyss II

    Chapter 325 - The Guardian of the Ironclad Abyss II


    Chloe''s legs screamed in protest as she rounded a corner. She didn''t know how long she had run, or even how long she would need to keep running. Whatever the case, her continued survival was clearly at risk; her undead pursuers showed no signs of slowing, while she, on the other hand, was running out of juice. Her legs had practically turned to jelly, her breaths were ragged, and her eyes were bleary with a mix of sweat and tears.


    The only pursuers that had fallen in the chase were those in the line of friendly fire. The skeleton mages would occasionally launch powerful spells without regard for those in their way. The maid was lucky enough to have avoided most of the damage, but her luggage was far from unscathed. Half the bedrolls were already gone¡ªan arcane bolt had blown them away. Common sense dictated that she ought to drop the bag, as well as the rest of the excess weight she had hidden beneath her skirt, but she refused to leave it behind. Claire would never let her hear the end of it if one of the supposed frontrunners failed on her account, and they were going to need all the resources they could preserve. Given that it was filled with the undead, the dungeon was unlikely to provide any edible materials. And if the first floor¡¯s size was any indication, they would surely starve if they lost the things she carried.


    She didn¡¯t want to imagine the crypt that lay beneath the mausoleum. The seven days of food she carried was starting to look like a fearfully tiny amount.


    Deciding that she was better off not worrying, the maid filled her mind with beautiful, bouncy breasts, but she could only distract herself from reality for so long. Eventually, the pain in her legs grew to such an extent that random thoughts no longer allowed her to ignore it.


    She nearly collapsed after a particularly sharp turn, though it was in part because her spirit was crushed by the scene that lay before her. There was a second horde of monsters, nearly thirty members strong, gathered in the middle of the corridor. Unlike her pursuers, they didn¡¯t immediately turn towards the maid and her clacking heels. They were too busy attacking something else, but she couldn¡¯t quite tell what at a glance.


    ¡°Hey! Maid! Give a man a hand, would you?¡±


    A closer look at the centre of the formation revealed a pebble in the midst of being kicked around. Though the zombies¡¯ attacks didn¡¯t appear to be doing much harm, they were bumping the rock around the mob.


    ¡°I can¡¯t!¡± she said, in a panicked shout. ¡°There¡¯s like a hundred of them behind me!¡±


    ¡°Just grab me and I¡¯ll gut the bastards,¡± said the dwarf. ¡°My skills don¡¯t work when I¡¯m being kicked around!¡±


    ¡°How am I supposed to grab you when you¡¯re in the middle of a crowd!?¡± she shouted.


    ¡°I don¡¯t fucking know! Dive in!¡±


    ¡°No way!¡± screamed the maid.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, they¡¯ll ignore you!¡± replied Enrique. ¡°I¡¯ve got a thing that makes them focus me, so hurry the hell up and grab me already!¡±


    Chloe was reluctant to play along, but she eventually gave in and dove at the bearded rock with her dagger extended. She cut through a wrist and a foot before bumping the tip of her blade against the dwarf¡¯s body and pushing him out of the crowd. Surely enough, the monsters continued to ignore her. They reached for him with their rotting, grasping fingers, but she restrained their movement by needling their shadows and tethering them to their umbral forms.


    Against such high-level monsters, the binding only held for a second. But a second was enough. She swivelled past the zombies, slid under the skeletons, and grabbed the talking stone. She came to a sliding stop on the other side of the crowd and raised the dwarf triumphantly, lifting him over her head while her ankles screamed in agonising pain.


    ¡°What the hell are you doing!?¡± cried the rock. ¡°Don¡¯t just lift me! Throw me goddamn it!¡±


    ¡°Huh? Throw you? Wou¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stop asking questions! Just do it!¡±


    ¡°Alright, fine!¡± Chloe turned around and winded up her arm, only to be yelled at again.


    ¡°Not that way! Into the crowd! Are you stupid!?¡±


    ¡°Why the hell would I throw you into the crowd!? Didn¡¯t I just ge¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up and fucking do it already!¡± he shouted frantically. ¡°We don¡¯t have the time for this shit! They¡¯re getting closer, goddamn it!¡±


    Thoroughly confused, the maid eventually followed through on the dwarf¡¯s instructions and launched him back into the mob. The rock hit the closest zombie dead on. For a second, it didn¡¯t look like anything would happen, but his body started to glow before its momentum was lost. And then, with a burst of magic, he launched himself through the corpse, the crowd, and even the walls. The hole he bored was anything but rock-sized. Everything within ten meters of his beard was bathed in holy light and cleansed by purifying flame.


    The pain in Chloe¡¯s legs abated. The system breathed life back into her tired, noodly limbs, righted her posture, and fixed her blemished skin. She didn¡¯t know how many levels she gained, but it was certainly more than just a few. Her whole body felt much, much lighter. The encounter had done wonders for her already inflated agility.


    Breathing a tired sigh, she collapsed where she stood and slowly caught her breath. It wasn¡¯t until the dwarf yelled at her again that she paid the world any attention.


    ¡°What are you doing? Don¡¯t just leave me here! Pick me back up already!¡±


    The beard-possessed rock was slowly rolling towards her. Oddly enough, moving seemed to be a struggle. He had definitely been more mobile up on the sandy beach than he was on the bare stone.


    ¡°Are you a priest or something?¡± Picking herself up off the ground, Chloe retrieved the rock and looked in the direction of the mausoleum. She held the dwarf by his bare rear; the sensation of his stiff beard against her skin was irritatingly uncomfortable. The individual strands were as tough as rusty nails.


    ¡°Not exactly,¡± he said, with a grunt. ¡°This rock I¡¯m on right now is a piece of moonstone, and possessing it lets me access its power.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t you have just used it when they had you surrounded?¡± She put her map away as she asked the question, strapping it beneath her skirt again for safekeeping.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t work like that. It only activates if the conditions are right, and me being thrown is one of them.¡±


    ¡°That seems a bit overly specific.¡±


    ¡°Well given the output, I¡¯d say it¡¯s probably well worth it.¡±


    ¡°I guess I can¡¯t argue with that,¡± said Chloe. ¡°Well, at least this makes everything a lot easier. We should be able to head straight for the centre.¡±


    ¡°Right, about that,¡± said the dwarf, with an awkward laugh. ¡°That blast actually used up all my mana. I¡¯ll need a quick nap to get it back. Shouldn¡¯t be out for more than thirty minutes.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡± said Chloe, with a blink.


    ¡°I ain¡¯t exactly much of a believer, so using the moon goddess¡¯ power is tiring and expensive,¡± he said. ¡°Napping¡¯ll kick off my meditation and get it regenerated in a jiff. Anyway, off to bed with me.¡±


    The maid could only stare in awe as the rock¡¯s beard deflated. He shifted from talking to snoring like a trumpet in the blink of an eye. The booming snorts were so loud, in fact, that they even drew the undead.


    ¡°Oh no, not again...¡± Her eyes teary and her legs already shaking, Chloe shoved the rock into her apron, retrieved her map, and started the cycle anew.


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    ___


    ¡°She got me good.¡± Krail Greenwood placed a hand against his aching skull as he slowly wandered through the maze. ¡°I haven¡¯t been hurt that badly by a single attack since the time I raided that one cultist base.¡±


    His steps were slow, assisted by his cane not because of his age, but because his wounds had yet to heal. He had acquired a certain unwanted status condition on his three hundredth birthday, and its awful effect reduced his health regeneration to a fifth of its usual effectiveness for as long as he stayed in motion.


    Only about a quarter of the damage that he had taken had stemmed from the undead creatures. The rest could be traced back to his method of entry; the girl had thrown him with enough force that he nearly died from hitting the wall. He would have to ask the dwarf to heal him when they met up. Either that, or he would require a safe space where the monsters couldn¡¯t reach. The latter seemed unlikely. There were always more of them no matter how many he killed, and they respawned so quickly that wiping them out was simply not an option. It almost felt like his victims would come right back to life each time he made a turn.


    Fortunately, the spawns were rather thin, and he was unlikely to exhaust his mana for another few hours. Case in point, he found only a pair of zombies when he rounded the corner. Lazily raising his staff, he drew the usual magic circle and chanted the usual spell.


    Six arrows formed in the space behind him, with three focused on the zombie on the left and the other three aimed at the one on the right. They launched in sequence, their metal tips and wooden shafts moving exactly as the so-called archer had envisioned. Both targets saw their right legs crippled; the arrows were lodged straight into their hips and placed right between the joints in their pelvic bones.


    A second barrage finished the job. The mage crafted another thirty-six arrows and buried half in each undead¡¯s skull. The monsters practically looked like pincushions; there was nothing left of their heads but bits of metal and wood.


    ¡°The monsters are easy to deal with, but I¡¯m totally lost. I remember hearing that I should keep a hand against the wall, but I doubt I have enough time for that. The damn thing¡¯s at least a full hundred acres.¡±


    Stepping right over the fleshy quivers, the archer continued his trek through the maze. He had lost the entrance some fifty turns ago, and heading towards the obvious centerpoint was proving itself a pain in the rear. His twists and turns had only carried him further away.


    ¡°If only I could do away with the fliers.¡±


    He had tried climbing above the walls and navigating them from a bird¡¯s eye view, but the approach was entirely untenable. The climbing part was hardly any trouble at all. Even with his back broken by old age, he could easily create footholds in the walls by way of firing his arrows. But getting on top provided more pain than profit. The wraiths were impervious to his attacks. Their ghastly bodies could only be harmed by objects of a magical nature, and his usual projectiles didn¡¯t count. Only one of his many abilities was able to take them down, but it was far too costly to use willy-nilly. He could manage maybe seven casts before running out of mana, and there were far more than a measly seven wraiths.


    He would have been dead in a heartbeat had they swarmed him outright, but they only ever attacked when he cheated the maze.


    Left with no other choices, the old elf continued wandering around the dungeon and killing everything in range. His warpath was practically unhindered until he came across a particularly large hall, though it would have been more accurate to describe it as a room. It was over ten times as wide as the three-meter paths otherwise spread throughout the maze. There were four entrances, each representing what the elderly archer assumed to be the cardinal directions.


    An undead warrior rose up from a shadow as he stepped inside. It was a skeleton. It stood a little taller than most of the others he had encountered, with a total height of roughly two and a half meters.


    ¡°Why, hello. Aren¡¯t you dressed handsomely?¡±


    The ancient fighter''s bones were made of glistening sapphires and its eyes were dim rubies. The same gemstone motif extended to its equipment. Its spear was a single cut of emerald, while its shield was an oversized diamond. It was practically a walking treasure trove, though the gems would no doubt lose their sheen by the time of the skeleton''s demise. He could tell at a glance that it was the type that would keep moving until he obliterated its body.


    A cursory test confirmed that it was immune to his normal arrows. All six of the projectiles he summoned and loosed bounced right off the monster¡¯s body. There wasn''t even a scratch on any of the gems that he had attempted to mar.


    The development was less than ideal. As an archer, most of his attacks depended on his ammunition''s effectiveness, and there wasn''t much he could do against a monster whose skin was too tough to pierce. It was fortunate then that the old man had a few more tricks in his bag. He began by working his racial trait. He silently called to the plants that inhabited their surroundings and offered his mana for direct control. The fallen trees readily obeyed. Their roots shot out from beneath the surface and seized the skeleton by the legs. The purpose was not to bind it. Rather, he ordered the plants to pull as hard as they could so that his foe would be drawn and quartered.


    It was a fair but unsuccessful attempt. A swing of the spear broke the skeleton free from its prison. The monster lunged. It closed the distance between them and swung its weapon with a feral screech, but the elf was unperturbed. He warded off its weapon with his staff and unleashed another barrage. The second set¡¯s projectiles were much larger than the first. They looked more like harpoons than regular arrows, but they were unleashed with the same speed as their smaller counterparts. Despite their mass, they proved equally incapable. Even the bolts that had landed dead center left only the faintest of scratches.


    They did, however, buy the elf an opportunity to chant. He recited an old poem whilst retrieving a talisman from one of his pockets. The aged paper, covered in crimson runes and azure markings, formed the shape of an arrow in front of him. And then, as the final words left his mouth, multiplied itself sixfold and fired.


    Only one of the six projectiles struck the skeleton. The wayward talisman found itself lodged directly between the skeleton¡¯s ribs, stuck in its chest with no damage inflicted. Exactly as the caster had intended.


    The other five papers lit up. Each projected a line from its place on the ground and formed a pentagram that perfectly encased the skeletal warrior.


    And then, with a shing, the magic circle unleashed its barrage. An explosion of harpoons erupted from beneath the skeleton¡¯s feet. The projectiles themselves were unchanged. They were exactly as they had been in his previous attempt, but the sheer quantity saw his foe overwhelmed.


    Five seconds and roughly sixty thousand projectiles later, the skeleton was defeated, leaving the arrow mage to scratch his ever-beardless chin as he pondered aloud.


    ¡°If a random monster under five hundred was that tough, then I¡¯m really not looking forward to the bosses.¡± The elf walked himself over to the skeleton¡¯s corpse and picked up a few pieces of jewelry. There was a surprising amount still intact, so he quietly pocketed as much as he could before setting off into the maze again.


    ___


    Three curious onlookers turned their eyes away from the elf as his battle drew to a close. Each directed their gaze to a different projection; there were a little over two hundred of them in all, with one following each intruder and an extra few to highlight key monsters and locations. The observation deck was located deep within the dungeon¡¯s core, far, far away from even its most ambitious explorer.


    The feature was one that most dungeons went without. Born of a long-lost technology, it allowed the dungeon¡¯s overseers to keep a close tab on everything going on within it. For gods, such a function would have proven itself entirely unnecessary. True deities were practically omnipotent within their own domains, and though dungeons were not quite churches, they fell under the same authority. Of course, even omnipotence was useless in the hands of the inept; while the system was capable of providing a near-infinite amount of information, it was up to the individual god as to how each bit would see itself used.


    It was most often celestials that would make use of the dungeon¡¯s built-in features. Much like their fully-ascended superiors, demigods experienced extreme time dilation, as well as modifications to their bodies that bolstered the efficiency of their brains. The individual responsible for the ironclad abyss, however, was no celestial, but rather a poor soul another full step down the hallowed ladder.


    As an aspect, she was a celestial¡¯s servant, a mortal with a single toe across the line that separated those that ruled over concepts from those that endeavoured to employ them. With nothing to do but follow orders all day, she was bored right out of her mind. To allow the intruders to live was strictly to her benefit, but the aspect was tempted to hit the kill switch and summon a horde of demonic beasts that would easily wipe them out. As the progenitor of nightmares, such a feat was as simple as breathing a lungful of air.


    In fact, she was rather confident that it was the right choice. She had been instructed against unnecessary murder, but she knew for a fact that at least half of the jury would vouch for the decision if it produced the results she projected.


    Still, Sylvia stayed her hand. She understood the importance of her duties, and she wasn¡¯t about to totally ruin Arciel¡¯s year on a random whim. She did complain, however. ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s just me, but all these guys kinda suck to watch.¡±


    ¡°I believe that particular fault stems from your point of comparison,¡± said Arciel. ¡°There are few fighters as absurd and unpredictable as Claire.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not absurd,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°And being unpredictable is a good thing.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps if your choices and conclusions fell within the norm.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said Claire, with a blink.


    It took Arciel a moment to recognize that, for once, the statement was genuine. ¡°I am uncertain if I am to find it more or less concerning that you fail to recognize the problem.¡±


    ¡°Definitely more,¡± said Sylvia. Taking her eyes off the many, many screens, she stuck her head out from the tentacle monster¡¯s lap and flashed her usual seat an unamused stare.


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with being creative.¡±


    ¡°Everything in moderation,¡± said the squid.


    ¡°Not levels,¡± said Claire. She curled up into a ball as she spoke. ¡°Wake me up when they clear the third floor.¡±


    The first part of the dungeon held none of her interest. Only after they passed the halfway point would the so-called champions be made to test their mettle.

 Chapter 326 - The Guardian of the Ironclad Abyss III

    Chapter 326 - The Guardian of the Ironclad Abyss III


    109832 - 5 - 5 - 10


    Dear Diary,


    Today I trained really really hard with Lina and Master B. We went super deep into the mountains and fought a whole lot of tigers. Tiger meat is really tasty. We brought some home for mom and dad too. They made weird faces when we told them how tasty it was, but then they tried it and they liked it a lot. Hunting is fun. I think I wanna be a hunter when I grow up.


    Lia


    ___


    Her breath heavy and her legs aching, Chloe collapsed into a pile of goop as she reached the mausoleum¡¯s entrance. She didn¡¯t know how long she had been running. The concept of time had lost its meaning by the dwarf¡¯s fourth nap. Not even her levels provided any meaningful measure. She had gained so many over the course of her misfortune that she couldn¡¯t be bothered to check. Moving her eyes was too much effort. She continued to lie where she was, with her face on the building¡¯s top step, her body splayed on the stairs beneath it, and her luggage dropped at her feet.


    She was still being chased. It hadn¡¯t been all that long since the dwarf had last fallen asleep, but it didn¡¯t matter. Sophia and Krail had already arrived, and they had moved on the horde as soon as they saw it; everything was dead by the time she could be bothered to push herself off the ground.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you made it through in one piece,¡± said Krail, as he sat down beside her. ¡°And before the dwarf, even. This almost reminds me of the time that my daughter bested me on a goblin hunt. She was only level thirty to my hundred at the time, but she managed to find their nest and wipe them out while I bumbled around on the other side of the forest. A real shame, really.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± said Chloe. ¡°So about the dwarf. I have him with me.¡± She reached into the apron, and after fiddling around for a bit, produced the bearded rock in question.


    ¡°Is he dead?¡± The elf raised a brow.


    ¡°He¡¯s sleeping, apparently,¡± complained the maid. ¡°He has to nap after every attack.¡±


    The old man stared, completely appalled. ¡°If he¡¯s thrice ascended with an ability like that, then I might as well be an aspect.¡±


    ¡°Negative,¡± said Sophia. ¡°Your ability is equally as absurd.¡± She sat beside a nearby pillar with her back as straight as a rod.


    ¡°And what¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± asked the elf.


    ¡°I apologize,¡± said the land shark. ¡°I did not mean to offend, but your class is equally as ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°Well it¡¯s highly effective,¡± said Krail. ¡°I¡¯m sure you would understand if you valued tradition over whatever silly gods you worship.¡±


    Sophia balled her hands into fists. ¡°I demand an apology.¡±


    ¡°As if,¡± scoffed Krail. ¡°All of you zealots are insane. Your faith in these so-called ¡®gods¡¯ is about as ridicul¡ª¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we settle down and have ourselves some dinner?¡± Chloe inserted herself into the conversation with a forced smile. She was tired enough to die, but she reached into her bag and rummaged around for supplies regardless. Fortunately, it was only really the bedrolls that sustained any significant losses. They only had two left, but one of the members was a rock that had no need for a bed, and they would most likely stand guard on shifts to begin with.


    While they still seemed eager to go at each other''s throats, the pair backed down by the time she distributed their rations. The jerky wasn¡¯t terrible. It was smoked for long enough to have a flavour reminiscent of maple wood smoke, but its fruity notes only fueled her need for tea. Unfortunately, the expedition had not budgeted for the luxury; the only leaves on the list of so-called necessities were medicinal in nature.


    Chloe was disappointed, but a quick observation of her teammates led her to believe that it was likely for the best. Like the unconscious dwarf before them, the elf and the landshark were quick to relax their guard. If a few bites of jerky were already enough to do away with their caution, then a decent meal surely would have robbed them of their vigilance in its entirety. At the very least, they were back to normal by the time the food was gone. Silently, or perhaps professionally, they got to their feet and continued their advance.


    The mausoleum¡¯s interior was every bit as grand as its outer walls suggested. The entire space was filled with pillars and statues, decorations that were made of finely crafted marble. One would expect that they had degraded with age, like the building¡¯s exterior, but they remained in perfect condition, just like the candles that lit the path ahead. Presented in the mouths of lions, bears, and wolves, the flames were ever-burning. Chloe was almost tempted to think them primordial, but a quick experiment proved that not to be the case. It was only on the walls that the candles were infinite. When ripped from their places, they would burn out and die within a matter of moments. Likewise, any torches lit by their flames were just as quick to be quenched.


    There were more monsters roaming the halls than the building¡¯s exterior. Denser mobs consisting of zombies and skeletons rose from the shadows and rushed the party, but they were quickly deleted. Those not filled with arrows were blown away by Sophia¡¯s attacks.


    Unlike the maze outside of it, the building¡¯s interior was fairly easy to navigate. It was an open-concept floor plan with only a few rooms and facilities placed off to the side. Otherwise, it was a grand hall that led into a deep, circular pit. The torches within it sparked to life soon after it came into view. The closest was the first to light, with each then triggering a reaction in the one beside it.


    Eventually, the whole circle was lit, showing off not only the distant sandstone floor, but also the boss monster that lay within. The most prominent part of its body was its skull. The undead creature had a massive humanoid head with a towering height of nearly three meters. The bulk of its features were troll-like; the canines that grew from its lower jaw protruded far above the rest of its teeth, and a line of spikes ran along the top of its head.


    But while the troll¡¯s oversized skull was present, the state of its body was questionable at best. The remaining bones appeared to stem from a wild assortment of different creatures. Its head sat directly inside a large pelvis with three slots for joints, each of which sported a leg which stood like that of a spider or crab. They were in a triangular formation, two in front, and one in the back for balance.


    ¡°It¡¯s level six hundred, legendary class, likely mindless,¡± said Krail, as his eyes glowed in the dark.


    ¡°Sounds like the fighter can handle it by herself then,¡± said the dwarf. ¡°Whaddya say, elf?¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t say no,¡± said Krail. ¡°I¡¯ve been needing a break anyway. The old back¡¯s been killing me.¡±


    ¡°And you, Girlie?¡±


    Chloe didn¡¯t immediately react. She continued to stare fearfully at the hundred-meter fall until the rock raised its voice.


    ¡°Girlie? Hello? Maid? You in there?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Oh, me?¡± said Chloe. ¡°I wasn¡¯t really planning on fighting much if I could avoid it.¡±


    ¡°Then it''s all yours, Sharkie,¡± said Enrique. ¡°You were acting like tough shit back at the castle, so let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got.¡±


    ¡°Request confirmed. I am willing to engage in single combat,¡± said Sophia.


    ¡°I know she just said that she was fine with it, but why does it sound like you¡¯re just trying to slack off?¡± asked Chloe.


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    ¡°Because I am, genius,¡± said the rock. ¡°Not like I can do much to it with this body anyway. I¡¯ve got one Holy Radiance in me, and that alone ain¡¯t exorcising anything in the legendary class unless someone does me the favour of beating its face in first.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll just need a few minutes if you¡¯d rather we tackle it together,¡± said Krail. ¡°I just need a quick break before the old back gives out. You¡¯ll know exactly what I mean when you get to my age. Everything¡¯ll start hurting when you wake up one day, and it¡¯ll never really stop.¡±


    ¡°I will have slain it before your rest is complete.¡± Her hands clasped into fists, Sophia jumped into the arena, fell a hundred meters, and landed opposite her newfound prey.


    The skeleton roared and kicked into a charge the moment she hit the ground, but the prime minister¡¯s maid stood her ground and raised her hands. Unlike most other fighters, she carried no blades, bludgeons, or catalysts on her person. But neither did she need them. Clad in raging magic, her fists were all those things and more.


    The ascended kelpfin led with a straight punch. Her hand met the skull¡¯s rush head-on and presented her with promised victory. It tore straight through the skeleton¡¯s jaw. The difference in their statures did not allow Sophia to finish the monster in just one strike, but the attack had borne enough power for Chloe to think it within reason. The shark girl¡¯s fists had pulsed right before impact, and the magic that enveloped them had suddenly changed its shape. It went from a bursting aura to a single point. It was like her hand had become a spear, a solid spear packed to the brim with mana.


    Like Chloe, the monster was completely caught off guard, but it quickly spun around and retaliated with a cleaving swipe. It didn''t falter. It was incapable of faltering. Even with all of its levels, it was simply an unintelligent, undead creature, driven by nothing but lust for battle and blood. In all likelihood, it hadn''t even noticed the damage it took.


    But for what it lacked in brains, the skull made up with raw aggression. Its claws were nearly impossible to dodge. Moving so quickly they blurred, they hammered the martial artist with a flurry of blows. Sophia was unbothered. She parried them with ease. Every strike the skeleton threw was brushed aside and guided away from her frame. She wasn''t quite fast enough to retaliate, but neither was she at risk of taking damage. At least until the monster howled. And shook the entire dungeon.


    So exceedingly powerful was the effect that Chloe nearly vomited outright. The one hundred meters between the skeleton and the maid served as no obstacle for its sound-based attack. Her whole body shivered with a sense of dread. Echoes burned themselves into the back of her mind, flooding it with inescapable thoughts of death. She could see its jaws as they wrapped around her head and threatened to swallow her whole. She could feel the punctures in her gut that followed as it ran her through. And she could sense her blood escaping as she lay half-conscious, body growing colder and stiffer with every passing moment.


    It was an undeniable, irrevocable terror. She wanted to run away. She needed to run away. Every fibre of her being demanded that she escape beyond its reach. Even though she already was.


    She was not the only one affected. The elf sitting beside her went just as pale. Cold sweat dripped down his brow, and his knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip. The dwarf shivered in a way that no rock should. And the kelpfin froze where she stood.


    Blood poured from her ears as her eardrums burst.


    Blood poured from her eyes as her brain rattled against its cage.


    Blood poured from her mouth as her stomach acid boiled over.


    It was not the status condition that crippled her, but rather the screech¡¯s overwhelming volume. She didn¡¯t even have a chance to process the accompanying fear with the force of sound as potent as it was.


    A claw dug into her gut before she could hit the ground and sent her flying halfway across the arena. Despite unleashing such a devastating attack, the skeleton showed no signs of slowing. It continued its assault, chasing Sophia each time she tumbled away and kicking her with its sharpened legs again.


    The first three attacks left punctures and gashes in the kelpfin¡¯s body, but Sophia regained consciousness by the fourth. Narrowly deflecting the creature¡¯s leg, she pushed herself off the ground and retaliated with a punch.


    But unlike the first, it did nothing.


    There was no crackling of mana or cracking of bone. It was a weak, flimsy hit. The problem wasn¡¯t a lack of muscle¡ªSophia was slender, but her body was made of finely toned fibres, interwoven for density over size¡ªbut rather a lack of aggression. She couldn¡¯t bring herself to use all her strength, for she too had been debilitated by the skeleton¡¯s roar and filled with a sense of dread.


    Her second attack was even less confident than her first. She tried pumping her fists full of magic, but it fizzled out before it could take on a half-decent shape.


    The skeleton struck her again. It rammed its head straight into her body and threw her into the arena¡¯s outer wall. She coughed and hacked as she peeled off of it and collapsed into a pile on the floor. The confident warrior that had challenged the skeletal beast was gone. Replaced by a crippled husk.


    ¡°Requesting assistance,¡± she said, weakly.


    ¡°Buy me five seconds!¡± shouted the elf. ¡°I¡¯ll bail her out!¡±


    Gulping, Chloe grabbed the dwarf and ran towards the pit. She was also still weighed down by fear, but having been far, far away from its source, she wasn¡¯t nearly as affected.


    ¡°Hey, wait a fucking second! You¡¯re not doing what I think you are, are you!?¡± screamed Enrique. ¡°I ain¡¯t touching that thing with a ten-foot pole! Throw yourself goddammit!¡±


    He tried to flee, but she hooked two fingers into his beard and, using it like a sling, flung him with all the might her terrified limbs could muster. Though reluctant, the moonstone eventually burst into a holy lustre and delivered an exorcising strike straight to the bone golem¡¯s face. It was the same attack that had cleared an entire legion of undead just a few hours prior, but against the floor boss, it worked exactly as poorly as he had claimed. A few bits crumbled off of the skull, and the odd crack or two was introduced to the rest of its body, but the undead creature refused to return to its grave. If anything, its malevolence was only furthered.


    It opened its mouth to shriek again, but having finished his preparations in time, the elf allowed for no such spell to be cast. He pelted it with a wave of arrows, staggering it with the sheer volume of projectiles.


    And then, finally, the shark recovered. Her ears and eyes were still bleeding, but she got to her feet with her stomach wound closed and her magic flickering to life. Kicking off the ground, she closed the distance between them and shifted the weight in her circuits. Her mana moved as her muscles activated, flowing from her toes to her soles to her tendons and her calves. It flowed up her thighs, through her back, passed her shoulders, and finally into her arms before being expelled out the end of her fingers. Every part of the rising uppercut was fueled by an empowering enhancement, a wave of mana that took the shape of a roaring bear.


    The overwhelming force of the impact ripped through the undead¡¯s skull; the shark girl emerged from the top of its head fist first, her body still wreathed in the raw energy she had ejected from her frame.


    Chloe breathed a sigh of relief as the monster¡¯s body collapsed. For a moment, it had almost looked like the party would be wiped, but they had managed to eke out a win.


    ¡°Lost your nerve for a bit there, eh?¡± laughed the rock.


    ¡°Please repeat following a brief delay. I am unable to hear you at this point in time,¡± said Sophia, as she tapped the side of her head. ¡°My eardrums were destroyed in the assault. They will require another ten seconds to heal.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± said the dwarf. ¡°Forgot you lot needed ears to listen.¡±


    He slowly rolled over to the monster¡¯s fallen frame and gave it a poke with his beard. ¡°This thing looks pretty decent. Bet it¡¯ll probably be better than the moonstone, even if the place is swarming with undead.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no harm in giving it a try, is there?¡± asked Krail, as he slid down the side of the pit. ¡°I was under the impression that dwarves with levels as high as yours could do as they pleased with corpses.¡±


    ¡°Wish that was how it was,¡± said the dwarf. ¡°I can only register one new host every half a day. I¡¯ll be shit outta luck if we find anything better, unless we¡¯re willing to stop and make camp, that is. It is getting kinda late, but I ain¡¯t got a clue how our stamina¡¯s holding up.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± said the elf. ¡°Then how about you stay here with Sophia while Chloe and I scout the second floor? We¡¯ll loop back around after an hour or two and let you know what we find, if it fits at all. Seems like it might be a bit tall, if the next floor is anything like the last.¡±


    ¡°Alright, sounds like a plan,¡± said Enrique, before raising his voice. ¡°What do you think, girls?¡± He didn¡¯t expect Sophia to answer, so he turned to the maid still hovering up above, only to find her incapable of providing a response.


    She was glowing with a bright white light. Her form was slowly changing, morphing as her body was rebuilt from the ground up. It was a process that each of the warriors had seen many times before.


    ¡°Looks like she¡¯s busy,¡± said Krail. ¡°I¡¯ll just scout ahead by myself. I might not exactly be a ranger, but I can at least check for enemies.¡±


    ¡°Be careful,¡± said Enrique. ¡°This place has clearly got more tricks than we bargained for coming in.¡±


    ¡°Maybe. But I doubt it¡¯ll pull the same bullshit twice in a row.¡±


    Propping himself up with his cane, he walked down the steps and immediately discovered that the dungeon did, in fact, pull the same bullshit twice in a row.


    His magical senses revealed that the dungeon had changed his location and placed him somewhere on the second floor. The only saving grace was that there wasn¡¯t much to the floor to begin with.


    It was comprised of a single room and a single monster.


    Another boss battle. Right after they had wrapped up the first.

 Chapter 326.5 - The Miffed Moose and the Scrambled Secret

    Chapter 326.5 - The Miffed Moose and the Scrambled Secret


    The first thing Virillius did upon arriving in Valencia was to return to his chambers and bury his face in his bed. He was tired, exhausted, weary beyond the point of willful continued existence. The only thing he wanted to do was sleep until his daughter¡¯s next visit. But he knew better than to put his weakness on display. Only Ferdinand, Allegra, and Cleveland were allowed to know it, and two of the three could be confided in no longer.


    In hindsight, his trust in the former king was both misplaced and one-sided. Ferdinand¡¯s methods wouldn¡¯t have been nearly as roundabout had he reciprocated his nephew¡¯s confidence and faith. Instead, he operated behind a veil of silence. Rather than informing Virillius that Ragnar had never betrayed him, Ferdinand had allowed the grudge to brew. It was his fault that military tensions between the lands had been on the rise for the better part of a decade.


    Just as how it was his fault that Violet had met her end; Ferdinand had refused to send an official request for aid, even when the lamian princess was on the verge of meeting her end. All out of the fear that Virillius would catch onto his lie.


    It was a thought that nearly filled the moose¡¯s frozen heart with fury, but he clenched his fist and fought it back. There was no point dwelling on the past. It would only be towards the future that he would set his eyes. To that end, the moose had even penned Allegra an apology and an explanation in hopes that she would return. But with his brother sniffing around, he knew that it would never reach her. Anything and anyone he sent would be intercepted along the way. As Constantius¡¯ power demanded.


    ¡°I need to track him down.¡±


    Rising from his bed, the cervitaur fixed his expression, combed his hair, and straightened out his clothes. He made sure that there was not a single flaw in his aesthetic before heading out the door and making his way to the usual study. He had spent a full month away from his late uncle¡¯s notes. Enough time to refresh his mind for another deep dive.


    He jumped right into the pornographic archives when he entered the room and started scouring the scrolls and tomes for details. He was in a good headspace and his work progressed at a satisfactory pace; he was even starting to feel like he was getting a sense for his uncle¡¯s code, but alas, found himself denied after just thirty minutes of progress.


    One of the maids knocked on his door and interrupted his thoughts. ¡°Your Majesty, Lord Ephesus would like to request an audience at your earliest convenience.¡±


    The moose nearly banged his face against the desk, but he reluctantly composed himself and spoke towards the door. ¡°I will see him shortly.¡±


    ¡°Then I shall have him seen to a meeting room immediately. Is the third the most appropriate for the occasion?¡±


    ¡°Yes, thank you, Iuliana.¡± The king begrudgingly set down an ancient scroll and pushed himself to his feet.


    As much as he wanted to order the man to return another day, the monarch could not simply turn down Lord Ephesus¡¯ request. The marquis was one of the key players that had arranged for the upcoming war, and though they had certainly shared their ideas through text, they were overdue for a much longer chat in person. The main problem was that it was far more difficult to exchange information while they were both away from the capital. The stone tablets used for long-distance communication suffered from several restrictions that limited their effective use to orders and reports.


    Only one of the two connected parties could send a message at a time, and their lengths were limited by the stone tablets¡¯ size. Longer messages required scribes on both ends to work through the painful process of sending and receiving acknowledgement back and forth. Complicating the situation even further was the need for a middleman. With both of them away from the capital, it was impossible for them to share a direct line. They had no choice but to write to the military¡¯s headquarters and wait for some poor soul to interpret and communicate the relevant details in code. A simple, two-page report could easily comprise a full day¡¯s work.


    Virillius thought back on Ephesus¡¯ notes as he made his way to the meeting room. When he opened the door, he found the marquis already sitting inside, his eyes on a notebook and a finger tapping against the desk.


    ¡°Good morning, Your Majesty,¡± said the marquis. The criocentaur was adorned in a warrior¡¯s garb. His spear had been taken when he entered the castle, but his spiral horns were filed to be as sharp and jagged as possible, and his tiny black and brown body was covered in jagged armour. Had his helmet not sat on the table, there wouldn¡¯t have been even a hint of his fur exposed. ¡°Thank you for taking the time to see me.¡±


    Virillius nodded. ¡°Your swift and decisive actions are always appreciated, Lord Ephesus.¡±


    The king¡¯s words were warm, but his expression featured the usual cold stare. One could easily argue that a more dynamic mask would have served him better, and while he did not disagree with the principle, his face happened to disagree with the execution. He could only make so many convincing expressions, and to fail one spectacularly would only reveal his true thoughts.


    Sticking to a single expression was the safest bet, and with his chilly reputation already preceding him, there was no reason to avoid leaning in.


    The strategy¡¯s main weakness was that it led to an unwelcoming impression, but he counteracted it by ensuring that the reception as a whole was warm. The meeting room was one of the castle¡¯s most extravagant. Meeting Room Three, as it was officially sanctioned, was only ever reserved for important guests. It had a ten-meter ceiling and contained a vast central area capable of supporting well over a dozen men. Everything within the space was gold-trimmed, from the carpet to the curtains to the cloth that covered the furniture. And while there was more than enough in the budget for pure gold to be afforded, the decorations were softer so as to not stink of new money. There were only faint traces of the metal interspersed into each item, and none of the decorations sported jewels or other bits of needless spending. Nay, the extravagance stemmed instead from the type of cloth used and the luxurious colour of its dye. The deep, reflective blue could only be derived from the heart of a Langgbjern mistwalker, a monster whose typical level range was seen between two and three thousand. Only a few had ever been slain in recent history, and even fewer had seen their organs perfectly preserved.


    The carpet was made from the fur of the same monster and served as a symbol of Cadrian strength. Even in the castle, there were only three such items, with one existing in the throne room, one placed in front of the king''s bed, and the last beneath their feet. To be invited to walk over it was akin to being presented with the nation¡¯s pride.


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    Naturally, Ephesus knew that as well. He may have lorded over a distant frontier, but he was still a man with over a thousand years of aristocratic experience. He had personally witnessed the mistwalker¡¯s processing, as well as the gradual shift in its symbolic meaning.


    ¡°I have already reviewed the details we previously discussed,¡± said Virillius, ¡°and after sorting through Pollux¡¯s report on Vel¡¯khan and its extant condition, I have decided that seven duels will have to suffice. Any more, and we run the risk of branding ourselves unjust.¡±


    ¡°Forgive my ignorance, Your Majesty, but how does seven appear any more reasonable than any other number?¡± asked Ephesus.


    ¡°The Vel¡¯khanese are unlikely to fill all the slots with seven, but that would not have been the case prior to their most recent civil war. They have no one to blame but themselves for executing the few powerful warriors whose names they could have called.¡±


    Though the argument was certainly convincing, it was one applied entirely in post. Virillius had known little about Queen Priscilla¡¯s champions until he read Pollux¡¯s report in the wake of his daughter¡¯s intervention. In reality, the number was seven because that was what they had agreed on, but like his frozen demeanour, the coincidence was simply too convenient not to exploit.


    ¡°What an astounding move,¡± muttered Ephesus. ¡°To think that you not only determined the extent of our enemies¡¯ forces but also discovered an opportunity to pin their problems on circumstances of their own making. I see that your talent for warfare remains in full force, Your Majesty.¡±


    The king solemnly nodded his head. ¡°We shall soon be launching an investigation into the two individuals listed in your report. I assure you that countermeasures will be completed in advance.¡±


    ¡°I happen to have discovered a few additional details myself and I believe that this news may be precisely what you have sought. By compositing the data, we have managed to determine the precise wavelength of the masked warrior¡¯s mana. It is similar enough to your own for there to be reason to suspect that it was your brother. The warrior had a woman''s voice and a frame unlike that of any cervitaur, but with a powerful bard as a close ally, both his appearance and his voice could have easily been faked.¡±


    Again, the king nodded. He knew that the report was wrong, but there was no way for him to reveal his knowledge without raising the marquis¡¯ suspicions.


    ¡°Excellent. I would appreciate it if you were to continue looking into the matter.¡±


    ¡°By your will.¡± The goat bowed his head. ¡°I have a few other things to report before I continue with this investigation. Our spies have confirmed that the Vel¡¯khanese have begun active recruitment and training. They are already northbound, even knowing that there is yet a year before the conflict will ultimately begin. Shall we hinder their progression?¡±


    The dark-horned moose paused briefly to consider the proposal. ¡°Do as you see fit.¡± He doubted that there was any stopping the man. The look in his eye was far too wild to be restrained.


    ¡°I will not disappoint you,¡± said the goat, with a dark grin.


    It took another hour for the meeting to draw to a close. With it being rare for Lord Ephesus to visit the capital in person, he took the opportunity to address all of his business with the king. They discussed his taxes and plans, as well as the overall state of his finances and army. Virillius didn¡¯t blame him. The man struck him as the type that was passionate about his work, so he at least did his best to listen to him until he finally left.


    For a second, Virillius thought that the marquis¡¯ departure would mean his freedom, that he would finally see the opportunity to return to the work that involved his brother, but he nearly fell over and died when he found his butler apologetically standing outside of the room with a stack of documents in hand.


    ¡°Virillius,¡± said Cleveland, after scanning their surroundings for eavesdroppers. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I know you were planning to return to your own business, but there are a number of issues that require your immediate attention.¡±


    ¡°Of course there are.¡± The man collapsed into a pile of mush. ¡°What is it now?¡±


    The thoraen servant handed his master the first of many parchments. ¡°The first matter pertains to your daughter. The guards have detained a madman claiming to be one of Kael¡¯aahrus¡¯ apostles.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± Virillius quickly read through the report, with the butler handing him another paper each time his eyes reached the bottom of the page.


    ¡°His testimony revealed that he was looking for a female moose with blue eyes, light blue ears, and a shorter stature. Of course, there are a few that might match that description, but he claimed that he was instructed to eliminate his target with no regard for her status.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Virillius lightly tapped a finger against his chin. ¡°Have him executed immediately. Do not allow any of this information to make its way to the hunt god¡¯s templ¡ª¡± Virillius stopped mid-sentence and drew the shieldlance that hung from his lower back.


    His caution lasted for exactly a tenth of a second. He returned the weapon to its place as his mind finished processing the ancient holy place to which he had been whisked away. Looking at its owner, he immediately bowed his head and took a knee.


    ¡°Do not remove him, Virillius Augustus,¡± said Vella. ¡°The board will be more interesting with the lion¡¯s pieces still intact.¡± The mechanical spider paused for a moment to smile. ¡°It is only because she has gone through trials and tribulations that your daughter has grown as she has. Deprive her of them now, and she will fail to surpass you.¡±


    ¡°I understand, Goddess. Shall we release the man back into the wild?¡±


    ¡°No. Leave him imprisoned within your dungeons without granting him the finality of death. The lion will only grow desperate as his plans fall apart. And it is then that we will find the chance to strike him down.¡±


    Saying only that, Vella returned the man to his previous place and continued her own preparations. She was the goddess of war. She loved large-scale conflicts capable of turning on a dime. She loved watching the machinations of mice and men as they decided the fates of hundreds of thousands. She loved providing all the necessary hints and bonuses to ensure that the outcome was always unpredictable. But above all else, she loved taking a place on the battlefield herself.


    There was no trumping the sensation of slicing through enemy lines, of trampling over hundreds of thousands of lives as she crossed the battlefield and forced duels upon the enemy commanders. And above all else, the sensation of squeezing out a narrow win, of triumphing over an unbeatable foe by way of a clever strategy.


    But in becoming a god, she had left it all behind. There was no longer anyone to match her.


    It was only against another god that she could relish in the thrill of combat, and squabbles among their own kind were almost always settled without all of one¡¯s power. There were too many alliances and too little fodder. No one would fight her to the death.


    Unless, of course, she happened to weave the perfect trap.


    And it just so happened that the god of the hunt was just the right target to fall for her ploys.


    She would foil all of his plans.


    She would defeat him at every turn.


    She would back him into a corner with a duel as his only out.


    And at the end of it all, she would personally take his head.

 Chapter 327 - The Guardian of the Ironclad Abyss IV

    Chapter 327 - The Guardian of the Ironclad Abyss IV


    109832 - 6 - 1 - 4


    Dear Diary,


    Today I tried to eat a grasshopper, but it kicked me in the tongue and jumped out of my mouth. Lina laughed at me for ten whole minutes.


    Lia


    ___


    Claire haphazardly threw a handful of pins across a magical board as another party made its way to the end of a floor. The resulting positions were entirely random; the lyrkress had scattered the enchanted objects without so much as taking a moment to think. Even the ones launched out of bounds were readily ignored; they would correct themselves in time.


    She hadn¡¯t always been so uncaring. The first few groups to reach each floor had certainly been placed with careful intention. Weaker fighters had been assigned to obvious, straightforward paths, whereas the more powerful were placed near tougher foes and larger mobs. She had found some joy in the chore at first, but she had completely given up on it by the end of the third day. Since then, it had effectively been left to the luck of the draw.


    If there was one thing she learned from the experience, it was that dungeon management was not her calling. She was so bored that not even her favourite pet was able to soothe her mind. They were flat out of things to discuss. Claire, Sylvia, and Arciel had spent half the last week exhausting every topic and question that happened to come to mind. There might have been more for them to talk about had they spent longer apart, but though Arciel had technically walked her own path, they all lived in the same city and kept up with regular correspondence.


    The only breaks from the tedium involved returning to the surface during mealtime. And even then, not all of them went together. Their shifts and schedules were slightly offset to ensure that someone was always awake and watching, just in case the dungeon and its parties needed any extra attention.


    That was not to say that their interference was particularly heavy-handed. They were only stepping in to save maids from certain death. The others were on their own, and there had already been a number of cases wherein a fighter had met an untimely end. Still, things were looking up overall. The casualty count was on the lower end, as was to be expected from a gathering of self-proclaimed elites. The overseers only really stepped in to replenish the parties¡¯ supplies. They placed extra bags in their paths, containing items that they were lacking, so that they could at least avoid an end as embarrassing as death by starvation. In the first place, it was the organizers¡¯ fault for failing to account for the differences in calorie intake and expenditure; each group was given the same standardized kit in spite of their differing needs.


    Fortunately, the tedium would not last for all that much longer.


    The frontrunners were approaching the final test.


    ___


    Ace flicked the rotting guts off of his sword as he dispatched the last zombie in sight. The lizardman was alone. For the sixth and hopefully final time, the dungeon had separated him from his party members and left him all by himself.


    The trick was getting old. The petty harassment remained consistent throughout the adventure, with separation as a gimmick around each and every turn. It was a clever trick that served its purpose well¡ªthe trial¡¯s goal was to pick competent duelists over individuals that functioned best in parties¡ªbut that didn¡¯t make it any less annoying.


    Being by oneself was exhausting. The lizardman needed to be checking all directions at all times, and he couldn¡¯t simply ask another to take his place while he rested off the resulting fatigue. Ace wanted nothing more than to scream his complaints at the top of his lungs, but he dismissed the idea on account of the wasted energy involved. His mental state was not yet poor enough that he absolutely needed to vent.


    Like four of the five floors before it, the sixth was an ancient crypt filled with wild, winding corridors and decrepit rooms flooded with hordes of monsters. The style of its construction was similar enough for him to recognize it as the same dungeon, but the aesthetic had changed dramatically. The walls had gone from sandstone to solid steel, and the monsters had undergone a similar metamorphosis. They were still undead, with zombies and skeletons still making up the bulk of their number, but they were equipped with powerful artifacts that shared the dungeon¡¯s metallic aesthetic. Many of them had weapons capable of firing lasers and launching explosives; they were far more powerful than the standard fare encountered on the first few floors. And yet, Ace had no trouble slicing right through them. His blade deflected their beams and cut through their breastplates without even the slightest hint of difficulty.


    It was the expected result. They were fodder, spawned by the dungeon to only combat a deficiency in levels. With how quickly everything around him died, it only took the man about an hour to map the floor and make his way to the boss pit. The mental model in his head was fully fleshed out, and his tracking skills were all active, but curiously enough, he was unable to find his companions. It was a strange development that left him scratching the back of his head. There were no signs of them anywhere to be found.


    After wandering around a little more and confirming his solitude, the lizardman returned to the boss pit and took the plunge below. The jump was transformed into an attack without a moments¡¯ delay. He slammed himself into the giant, zombified frog that awaited him in the ring and cleaved through its towering, armour-clad frame. His blade flashed through the darkness, illuminated just brightly enough by the firelight to reveal its perfectly straight path.


    And then, the frog fell over.


    Dead from a single attack.


    A heavy breath escaped through the killer¡¯s gritted teeth. He nearly let down his guard, in the wake of his herculean feat, but he snapped to attention again as a metallic clank pierced through the darkness. Spinning towards it, he found a centaur dressed in a suit of full metal armour.


    It was impossible to tell from looks alone if his foe was a skeleton or a zombie. The only gap in the creature¡¯s helmet was too thin to see through, and its metal skirt hung low enough that only its hooves remained visible. And to his annoyance, they were intact, providing no hints as to the optimal approach.


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    Still, the lizardman was confident. Until the distance between them was closed.


    There was barely any time for him to react. He only threw up his sword because his gut had screamed that there was danger inbound. One moment, the horse was a full ten meters away, and the next, it was driving its spear straight towards his heart.


    The lizardman stumbled, but he dug his rear toe into the dirt and pushed back against his assailant. Even then, he barely won the contest of strength. The horse¡¯s power was just as impressive as its mind-bending speed.


    It was fortunate then that its technique was lacking. A twirl of the blade was all he needed to knock the monster¡¯s weapon aside and drive his sword towards its chest. After glancing again at his opponent¡¯s arms and confirming his blade¡¯s trajectory, he activated its special ability and bolstered its power threefold. The effect had a cooldown; he could only use it once every five seconds, but he was confident that his strike was true.


    A result determined in folly. Because he had never fought a centaur before.


    The undead¡¯s body suddenly spun around. The upper half that he had set as his target swerved out of his blade¡¯s path as a set of plated hooves moved to take its place. The armoured feet slipped right under his sword and smashed him in the chest.


    He leapt backwards in time to mitigate the force of the impact, but it still blew the wind right out of his lungs. His ribs managed to escape unbroken, but he had to pound a fist against them to get them to take air in again. Worse yet, his foe did not sit idly while he corrected his lack of breath. The horse leapt into the air and catapulted itself towards him like a missile. It was too heavy to block and too quick to dodge. He had no choice but to take the attack.


    Swinging his sword, he delivered a counterattack that landed in time with the enemy''s lightning-fast strike. With its special effect on cooldown, his blade was not quite powerful enough to cut cleanly through the armour, but he managed to tear a hole in the metal regardless. It was a jagged, misshapen wreck of a hole, and one that came with not a drop of blood.


    The question that he had posed at the start of the encounter had finally been answered. His foe was a skeleton, a centaurian skeleton that could match his raw strength even with a complete and utter lack of muscle. A shiver ran through the lizardman''s spine, but he shook off his fear and replaced his usual blade with the bludgeoning tool he kept on his back. Technically, it was still a sword¡ªall of his mastery skills applied¡ªbut it was not meant for cutting. The twenty-pound blade had no edge. Both its sides were dull and flat precisely so it could be used for smashing.


    In hindsight, he realized that he should have drawn the weapon to begin with. The so-called horse-killer was best used against cavalry, and it was precisely that which a centaur was.


    ___


    Chloe panted heavily as she watched a skeletal centaur collapse two feet from her face. It was the seventeenth that had fallen that night, as well as the seventeenth that had decided to target her just moments before its demise. Of course, she was not responsible for its fall. Her ascension hadn¡¯t done much for her ability to combat the undead. Against them, it was summed up as a small bonus to her mobility. And even that was rather suspect.


    The tiny, membranous wings that grew from her waist were too weak to allow for flight, but like her brand new, heart-shaped tail, they aided in balancing her body even when her feet were off the ground.


    New parts aside, her ascension had done very little to change her features. Her tongue was a little longer, her canines had sharpened, her hair had turned blonde, and her eyes had gone from black to red. That was all. Those were the only changes anywhere to be seen. In the eyes of another race, they were nigh unnoticeable, but for a human, they were on the more drastic end. The fangs alone sufficed to inspire jealousy amongst her peers, and Chloe herself was fairly satisfied with the transformation. She didn''t unlock the precise race she hoped, but she had more or less set the groundwork for everything to fall into place well before her next ascension. In the meantime, she would have to decide exactly what it was she wanted.


    ¡°You okay?¡± asked the dwarf, as he batted the dead skeleton away. The bearded man was possessing a heavily armoured zombie¡ªthe fifth floor¡¯s boss. He had gone through a number of bodies over the course of the past few days, but he hadn''t switched since he took on the dead marlin¡¯s form. It was simply a matter of convenience. The former floor boss came with the ability to effortlessly swim through the air. Of course, being a zombie, the corpse reeked, but one of the dwarf¡¯s skills kept the scent from spreading.


    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m fine, thanks,¡± said Chloe. She took a breath as she lowered her dagger. Though no stranger to aggression¡ªshe was at a much higher level than the average citizen¡ªshe still wasn''t accustomed to the skeletons¡¯ last act. The sheer ferocity of the charge was what got her. It was far beyond anything else she had personally experienced.


    ¡°Can we get a quick snack in before the next battle?¡± asked Sophia. There was always a small break between one skeleton''s death and the next¡¯s arrival. That much, they knew for certain. They had been fighting them nonstop since they took out the frog earlier in the day.


    They were in the very same arena in which said frog had fallen. Its massive corpse had loomed over them for a while, but it vanished when the third skeleton spawned. Similar fates had befallen the other skeletons¡¯ corpses; each vanished in the wake of a third replacement. While the type of monster had more or less stayed the same, the encounters themselves were widely varied. Every subsequent fight was more difficult than the last; the centaurian skeletons gained between ten and twenty levels and changed their styles each time, and to the party¡¯s dismay, there was no clear end in sight.


    At first, they had suspected that there was some condition to their release. They had tried besting the monsters in duels, killing them in different ways, and even stalling them out, but to no avail. The stairwell to the next floor refused to appear.


    They had little choice but to sit around and wait for the problem to resolve itself. Hence the need to snack between rounds. It was more of a way to relieve their stress than it was a replenishment of their bodies¡¯ needs, but at the rate that things were going, even that would soon add to the pits of their despair. They were slowly running out of water. Of the twenty-four skins that they had been supplied, only seven were yet undrained. And that was with a beard that didn¡¯t drink among their number. Some of the other parties, she suspected, were having it even worse.


    Whatever the case, they continued munching on their dry bread as one of the centaurs¡¯ bodies crumbled. Its armour and bone were both eaten away, slowly, slowly turned to dust alongside the arrows anchored within its skull.


    A shadowy figure appeared in the arena once all traces were gone. Like the previous seventeen, it was a centaur, albeit one with a longer silhouette. Its tail was far fleshier and measured almost twice the length of its body. There were several gaps in its armour that revealed its skeletal form, but Chloe was not so easily deceived.


    ¡°Claire? Is that you?¡± she asked, with a blink.


    Though one might have reasonably thought the question to be nonsense, given the exposed bone, Chloe was rather confident in her assumption. Her nose had confirmed the presence of fresh blood, and the silhouette itself was too distinct and familiar to be readily overlooked.


    Her recognition, however, earned her little more than the supposed undead¡¯s attention. It rushed her down with a blade raised over her head. It was a charge that only spanned a blink. The only reason the shieldlance missed its mark was because Sophia had been sitting right beside her.


    Shooting to her feet, the everglade landshark got between them just in time to parry the weapon with the back of her fist. It was a perfectly executed block. She directed the weapon¡¯s edge away by touching the side of its blade. And yet, her hand was damaged.


    A block of ice spread from the point of contact and encased her arm in a layer of cold.


    And with that, Chloe was certain.


    Claire had decided to administer their final test in person.

 Chapter 328 - The Guardian of the Ironclad Abyss V

    Chapter 328 - The Guardian of the Ironclad Abyss V


    Sophia gritted her teeth and backed away from her foe as the ice spread from her fingers. The freezing cold slithered down her forearm and robbed everything it touched of all its function. The affected hand was unmoving; none of the muscles beneath her elbow responded to any of her commands. Her magic was just as heavily impaired. The limb refused to accept her mana, no matter how forcefully she tried to push it through. She was clearly open to attack, but her allies stepped in and covered her retreat. The elf unleashed a hail of arrows, and the fish-shaped dwarf put his body between them. It was a strategy that had worked on every other opponent, but the seemingly reliable arrows bounced right off their foe. It was not as if the mage had held back. He had thrown a talisman and created a barrage with over a thousand bolts within it. And yet, there was no apparent effect. They harmlessly bounced off its armour, leaving not so much as a scratch.


    The dwarf invested more than just a talisman and went all in right off the bat. Knowing that his flesh could easily be replaced, he catapulted himself at the enemy with his sword-like nose extended. He activated every bonus that his body knew. His spear grew sharper and harder. Magic poured from the tip of his blade and covered his frame in a protective layer. His beard¡ªhis real body¡ªpitched in as well. He bolstered the corpse¡¯s strength and greatly increased the precision of his kinetic vision. It was an attack that far exceeded that of the body¡¯s original owner.


    And yet, it was completely ineffective.


    He was caught by the enemy¡¯s blade in the midst of his charge and split perfectly in half. Neither his magical barrier nor his physical enhancements amounted to any sort of reasonable defence. The shieldlance cleaved right through him regardless.


    But Enrique¡¯s assault was far from over. Detaching himself from his host, the living beard possessed one of the skeletons nearby and engaged her again. He led with a flurry of blows, a perfectly executed barrage performed with the centaur¡¯s spear. But he failed to mar his foe. A flicker of the shieldlance saw his weapon repelled.


    His efforts amounted to little more than a brief window of opportunity¡ªa window that Krail immediately moved to seize. Having realized the target''s threat level, he immediately raised his staff like a bow and unleashed his ars magna. It was the kind that required a lengthier cast, but the words in his chant were spoken so quickly that they seemed to blur together. The magic circle was completed just as swiftly. It was centred around a hexagram, with each of its sides made of one of his verses. Written in ancient runes, they came together to form a circuit through which his mana could flow.


    The projectile born of the magic circle was at least nominally an arrow, but the tip was too large and heavy, with an extra bevel in the middle to give it two pairs of edges. Likewise, the feathering was enhanced to a ludicrous degree. Rather than a single plume taken from a single bird, it was adorned with a set of wings that grew from the middle of its shaft. And then, at the tail end, the feet of a crow formed the silhouette of a bird in flight. But despite its avian appearance and its almost spear-like size, it was undoubtedly a weapon that embodied the concept of an arrow.


    The projectile was guaranteed to strike exactly where its archer demanded. The act of unleashing it, in and of itself, was what created and assured the foregone conclusion of its target¡¯s penetration.


    That was its greatest strength. As well as its greatest weakness.


    Because the caster had incorrectly deduced that a skeletal mage could only have been a lich.


    Krail had ordered the arrow to track and pierce the stone that was its core. But it had no such part. And so the arrow did nothing. It sat exactly where it was constructed, leaving the caster equal parts stupefied and open to attack.


    The supposed lich, however, ignored the opportunity. It leapt across the room and chased Sophia down instead. The landshark could only grimace as the skeleton¡¯s blade shattered her frozen arm. But bearing with the pain, she dug her feet into the ground, charged her muscles, and retaliated with a rising uppercut. The attack was backed with all of her overwhelming speed. It was too fast for even the landshark¡¯s eyes. And somehow too slow to make up for her lack of range.


    One backstep was all it took for the skeleton to avoid the blow.


    The counter that followed swept across her chest. It had enough power behind it to rend her bone, but she managed to survive it. Sophia stumbled backwards with her remaining hand raised in front of her and only her clothes slightly torn.


    There was a glowing sash hidden beneath her uniform, revealed thanks to the outerwear¡¯s destruction. Every few seconds, it pulsed like a heart and exerted its presence on the world around it. There was enough magic moving through the item for the skeleton to raise its guard in case and brace for a powerful attack¡ªan attack that never quite came.


    The relic, House Ray¡¯esce¡¯s heirloom, was not offensive in nature. Its sole purpose was to protect and heal its wearer. And that was why the seventh pulse restored the kelpfin¡¯s arm. It wasn¡¯t as gory or savage as a Cadrian soldier¡¯s active regeneration. Her flesh didn¡¯t bubble, and a bloody limb didn¡¯t suddenly sprout from the stump where the last had been before. Rather, a veil of glowing mana extended from her shoulder, took the shape of the missing part, and seamlessly placed it back within the world.


    Sophia jumped into action even before the process was complete. Practically roaring at the top of her lungs, she pushed forward, into the skeleton¡¯s range, and engaged with a flurry of punches and kicks. Again, her opponent evaded her attack and retaliated with a sweep of the weapon. Though her instincts screamed for her to guard it, the landshark avoided the trap with a twist and dove past the blade.


    She aimed for the centaur¡¯s legs. A straight punch dented the metal skirt and another nearly broke through, but the undead horse batted her away with her weapon before she could pierce the ironclad defence.


    It looked like she had made some progress at least, but the metal undid its bends; the centaur¡¯s skirt returned to normal before Sophia hit the ground.


    That was when the other two finally caught up. Enrique was charging with his spear extended, while Krail grabbed ahold of his magical arrow and transformed his body into the vessel for its delivery.


    They closed in from the centaur¡¯s rear flanks, forming a perfect triangle with no room to escape. Sophia, likewise, charged up an attack of her own. With one hand supporting the other, she fired a blast of arcane magic. Her raw mana was hammered straight towards her target, a bright red flash as wide as a person was tall.


    For a moment, it looked like their attacks had landed. But when the dust cleared, the skeleton emerged unscathed.


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    Krail had been stabbed through the gut before his arrow could land, and Enrique had his lance parried and his face grabbed. The two of them were repurposed into a pair of shields, used to block the attack that Sophia had so kindly unleashed.


    Smoke drifted off their charred, broken bodies as they collapsed at the centaur¡¯s feet. Sophia took a breath and lowered her stance. The dwarf would be fine, but Krail was in need of rescue. Any moment now, and the undead could easily finish him by tearing its blade through the side of its body.


    Fortunately, it didn¡¯t seem all that interested. Flinging the man off its shieldlance like he was a spatter of blood, it rushed right up to the landshark with its weapon raised overhead. She threw up her guard, but it was meaningless. The shieldlance didn¡¯t freeze her hands like it had when they first made contact. Rather, it cut right through them, leaving her with two half palms and a blade buried in her shoulder.


    She barely registered the pain by the time the weapon was twisted. It dug through the gaps in her bones with pinpoint precision and severed her arm from her chest. In the next moment, her knees were gone. Given the same treatment, they had been instantly removed from under her thighs.


    It could have killed her at any time. But it didn¡¯t.


    The skeleton only turned towards the final target and pointed its bloody weapon at the maid in question.


    ¡°Wait, I¡¯m not supposed to be a part of this, am I?¡± asked Chloe, as she awkwardly backed away. ¡°I only signed up to do the laundry!¡±


    She hadn¡¯t participated in the battle, but Sophia didn¡¯t blame her. There simply wasn¡¯t any room for her to interfere. Even with an agility-focused build, she was too slow to match the skeleton¡¯s speed, and her attacks were too weak to pierce through its armour.


    ¡°You were the one that grew the most,¡± said the skeleton. Its voice was distorted, but the tone and the rhythm confirmed the speaker¡¯s identity.


    ¡°T-that was just because I was the lowest level!¡± cried the maid, desperately.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go easy,¡± said Claire. ¡°I¡¯ll dull the blade.¡±


    ¡°That really doesn¡¯t make it any better,¡± said Chloe. ¡°How is it that you look like that anyway?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you if you can beat me.¡± The skeleton raised its shieldlance in front of its face and started to close the distance.


    ¡°You already know that isn¡¯t going to happen!¡± screamed the maid. ¡°Look, I¡¯m sorry I groped you that one time back at camp! I swear, it wasn¡¯t my fault! My hands just have a mind of their own!¡±


    Claire paused. ¡°Right. I did still need to hit you for that.¡±


    The maid continued backpedalling as the lyrkress approached, with a scream welling up in her throat throughout. It was unfortunate then that it was not immediately unleashed. Having healed back up, Sophia charged the supposed undead yet again. She leapt into the air, in an attempt to get on the centaur¡¯s back, but she was knocked right out of the sky with a flick of the tail.


    Only after that, and another few thwacks to ensure that her limbs were broken, did Claire return her attention to her friend and confirm the changes that stemmed from her ascension.


    ___


    Roughly two minutes and one entirely unnecessary, one-sided beatdown later, Chloe¡¯s party was back on the surface. The injured were taken to a set of medical facilities set up outside the dungeon. It was really only the human and the elf that needed any transporting. The beard was never really hurt to begin with, and the shark had shrugged off all her wounds. Still, they accompanied them, silently meandering into the medical bay, faces clouded with gloom.


    Upon arrival, they found two other parties in the same predicament. Their injured members were lying on beds of sand, propped up off the floor and covered in thick, clean blankets. To say that they were feeling down was an understatement. Somehow, they were even more depressed than the freshly broken.


    Chloe couldn¡¯t help but notice that she was the only maid subject to any harm. The other two were in perfect condition, and not just because they had changed out of the garments torn up by their most recent adventure. They seemed to have noticed Chloe¡¯s predicament, as both kept shooting her glances as she lay in bed with her body still aching.


    The medical staff didn¡¯t do much. They simply set the fallen warriors down and returned to their previous posts without a care in the world. No one was administered anything specific; they were left to regenerate their health by themselves. For the most part, it was a reasonable decision. Only people with particularly strange constitutions would take more than a day to heal, and they were in no rush. She suspected, from what she saw back at the castle, that some of the weaker parties were more than just a few hours away from completion, assuming they would reach the finish line at all.


    ¡°Hey.¡±


    A lizardman walked over once the doctors left. He was covered in cuts, missing half his scales, and walking on a limp, but he approached the party nonetheless and casually waved his hand.


    Chloe didn¡¯t reply, but her party members were more open to discussion. Sophia greeted the man with a nod, Enrique fluttered his beard¡ªhe had gone back to possessing his rock ever since his last body was destroyed by friendly fire¡ªand even Krail propped himself up in his bed and sat at attention.


    ¡°You manage a clear?¡± asked the lizardman. His eyes were on the two uninjured, both of whom immediately shook their heads.


    ¡°We got our asses kicked,¡± said Enrique. ¡°Pretty badly too.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t look it,¡± said the lizard.


    ¡°Affirmative. A relic repaired any wounds she inflicted,¡± said Sophia.


    ¡°She?¡± The other soldier scratched the back of his head. ¡°Did you guys get past the skeletons?¡±


    ¡°Seventeen of ¡®em,¡± muttered Enrique. ¡°The eighteenth took us down.¡±


    ¡°Was that the one with the long tail?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said the rock. ¡°She pretty much ploughed right through us.¡±


    ¡°So it was the eighteenth for you?¡± He brought a hand to his chin. ¡°Was the fourth for me, and the second for the first group.¡±


    ¡°Weird,¡± said Enrique.


    ¡°There¡¯s really no point in trying to figure out how it works,¡± said Krail. ¡°I would like to go back in, all things considered, but it doesn¡¯t seem like we¡¯ll have time for it if they haven¡¯t sent you back in already.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± said the lizard. ¡°It¡¯s a shame, really is. Would¡¯ve liked to fight that last skeleton again.¡± He snapped his fingers. ¡°Right, how could you guys tell it was a she? Bone structure maybe?¡±


    ¡°Well, the maid seemed to know her. Even managed to convince her to talk,¡± said Enrique.


    All of the eyes in the room were immediately focused on the still-bedridden Chloe, who only responded with an uneasy twitch. She could feel the cold sweat dripping down the back of her neck as she came to the sudden realisation that the lyrkress had been hiding her identity. It was possible, likely even, that she would be reprimanded for revealing it. In the worst case, she would even be deprived of her laundry duties, and that alone she would not allow to pass. Perhaps, she thought, her loose lips were why Claire had decided to attack her in the first place.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know anything,¡± she said, with a perfectly manufactured face. It was made with all of the knowledge bestowed by Claire¡¯s criticisms and guaranteed to be impossible to see through.


    ¡°Negative. That is clearly a lie,¡± said Sophia. ¡°I do not recall it, but you stated her name earlier.¡±


    It was at that moment that Chloe came to a second sudden realisation. There was no guarantee that any of Claire¡¯s feedback had ever been genuine; she could very well have been stringing her along without really teaching her how best to lie.


    Of course, she knew that she was really just running away from reality. There was no way to lie herself out of the situation, but the maid continued to delude herself with the possibility until the soldiers gave up and left her alone.

 Chapter 329 - The Guardian of the Ironclad Abyss VI

    Chapter 329 - The Guardian of the Ironclad Abyss VI


    Chloe hummed a happy tune as she went about her duties. She personally cleaned each of the queen¡¯s garments, towels, and other miscellaneous belongings in turn, scrubbing each with all the care deserved by a newborn¡¯s bottom. Despite her concerns, she had yet to be penalized, even after three full days back up on the surface. Her silence had inevitably worsened her relationship with the rest of the northern brigade, but lifting a pair of freshly worn panties into the air, and spreading them to best appreciate them beneath the morning sun, she felt like it had been well worth the trouble.


    She took a few moments to languish in all of the undergarment¡¯s glory. She admired the beautiful black and purple lace that made up its form, as well as the fancy embroidery that surrounded it, before lightly planting a kiss along the gusset, inhaling its scent, and submerging it in a bucket of warm and soapy water.


    Though she certainly spent a few extra seconds admiring each of her mistress¡¯ unmentionables, the maid was not at all inefficient. It was precisely because she appreciated the clothes that she understood how best to wash them. Each article was given only the minimal amount of treatment required to be made pristine. She made sure to avoid overwashing so that they would last for as long as they could. Her careful attention to detail and her flawless technique came together to ensure that the task was wrapped up in record time.


    Once all the washing was complete, the maid moved on to drying. Back at the castle, there were artifacts they could use to speed up the process, but out on the beach, hours away from civilization, she had to resort to the old-fashioned approach. She began by placing the towels and outerwear. She hung them from higher lines strung around the perimeter while placing the queen¡¯s undergarments on lower clotheslines that were hidden from view. It was unfortunate; had they been back home, Chloe would have left them out in the open so she could see them from all angles, but she knew better than to allow the perverted masses to gaze upon the queen¡¯s most seductive attire.


    With the most pleasant chore of the day, unfortunately, attended to, Chloe moved on to cleaning everyone else''s clothes. Their belongings were given much less attention. She threw them in the wash basin, haphazardly swirled them around, and strung them up without any consideration for order or reason. It was not as if there was nothing interesting mixed into the crowd. There were plenty of thongs, garter belts and risqu¨¦ bras, given that some of the maids were looking for partners, but they failed to garner her interest. Their bodies were too bland. None of them had the beautiful bounce that accompanied her mistress¡¯ chest.


    The maid allowed her thoughts to wander as she continued to work, stopping only as she heard a scream from the expedition¡¯s commander.


    ¡°Attention! Your attention, please!¡± The man in question had only just returned from the dungeon earlier that morning. He was still covered in bandages and wounds, but his pride forced him to stiffen his back and straighten his face.


    With some more reluctant than others, the soldiers gathered nearby, forming a crowd just outside of the medical bay. Nearly everyone was present; there hadn¡¯t really been much else to do but for the men to sit around the camp and engage in personal training while they awaited the last few groups. And though the commander was far from well-respected, there was more benefit in listening to the announcement than not.


    ¡°With the final party¡¯s return, we have now concluded the first of our three preliminary exercises. Some of us have seen more success than others,¡± he said, as he scanned the crowd. ¡°Some of us may have already found that this was too tough to bear. If that sounds like you, then you should drop out immediately. It only gets tougher from here, but that also means we¡¯ll only be getting stronger faster. We will leave for our next destination in two days'' time. If you aren¡¯t present at sunrise, we¡¯ll proceed without you under the assumption that you did not wish to continue.¡±


    Chloe halfheartedly listened to the speech until she felt a tap on the shoulder. When she spun around, she found herself face to face with a beautiful witch adorned with a massive, pointed hat. Like the maid, she was sitting in the sand, albeit far more primly and properly.


    ¡°Good morning, Chloe.¡±


    ¡°Ciel!¡± The maid¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°You''re back!¡± After looking around and confirming that the laundry saw them obscured, she immediately pulled the queen into a hug and basked in the sensation of her monstrously large chest. It was her normal behaviour behind closed doors. Whether Arciel enjoyed the stifling chokeholds was another question altogether, but at the very least, she put up with them without any complaints.


    ¡°Claire has finally allowed for my return,¡± said the squid, with a tired sigh. Being only level five hundred herself, Arciel had been put through the gauntlet as well, albeit only after most of the other parties had wrapped up their clears. Her trial, however, was slightly different from any of the others. Rather than wasting her time exploring the dungeon, she had been thrown into an arena and forced through a series of duels, each with an opponent tailored to require her growth or warrant her defeat. It was Alfred¡¯s method¡ªthe most efficient method¡ªand they had even borrowed a few of his equitaurs to ensure the smoothest progression. Of course, it was also the most dangerous method. In fact, she would have died twice already if not for a certain fox¡¯s last-second interference.


    She wasn¡¯t exactly keen on the methodology, but she had gained seven racial levels already, and she wasn¡¯t in the sort of position that would allow for a more leisurely approach. Their opponents were level-nine-hundred warriors that had devoted their lives to self-improvement. Even if she had a talent for combat, which she most certainly did not, she would need a miracle to make herself a threat.


    ¡°Is she being tough on you too?¡± asked Chloe, with a grimace.


    ¡°She is simply doing what she must.¡± Arciel forced a smile. ¡°She likely would have ordered a longer session had I the mental fortitude to handle it.¡± Fighting the equitaurs was stressful, but they taught her a lot about her own strengths and weaknesses.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t really explain why I had to fight,¡± muttered the former human. ¡°I gained more levels in that dungeon than I have over the course of the last five years!¡±


    ¡°I do see that you have found it to be a rather fruitful affair.¡± The queen took Chloe¡¯s hair in her hands and carefully inspected its golden glow as it shone beneath the sun. ¡°Congratulations, Chloe, on your ascension. Would you mind enlightening me as to what it is you have chosen?¡±


    Chloe¡¯s face turned red as Arciel¡¯s drew closer. She knew that the gesture was only driven by curiosity, but her heart thumped nonetheless. ¡°R-right. I wasn¡¯t able to become a vampire just yet, so I chose to be a lewd ancestor instead,¡± she said.


    Arciel blinked. ¡°I do not believe I am familiar enough with human ascensions to have heard of the class.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s halfway between a true ancestor and a sex demon,¡± explained Chloe, as she proudly puffed up her chest.


    ¡°Were you not presented with the choice to become a true succubus?¡±


    ¡°I was, but I wanted to be more like you,¡± she said, with a playful wink.


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    In truth, the option was one she had debated for what had felt like a few dozen hours. Succubus was a rare ascension reserved for only the horniest of humans and it came loaded with powerful skills to match. Among them was Bewitching Form¡ªthe ability to assume the shape that her prey would find most attractive. She could become a little girl for those in need of imprisonment, or perhaps a mature lady for those that had been raised without any motherly affection. It also meant she could grow a phallus of any size or even become a man outright. It was an undeniable advantage that she could have easily leveraged in her effort to win the queen¡¯s heart.


    Still, she had refrained. It was both a matter of pride¡ªshe wanted her feelings to be reciprocated for who she was, and not the particular geometry of her genitals¡ªas well as a matter of mentality. To become a true sex demon meant that she would have no choice but to regard the sexually compatible as prey. And for that alone, she had rejected the option.


    The class¡¯ half-vampiric variant lacked many of the accompanying instincts and abilities, but it allowed for a compromise that allowed her to stop short of the line. The price was a heavily downgraded Bewitching Form. She could still determine the sex of a particular individual¡¯s ideal partner and grow an injector if needed, but the rest of her body was largely unmalleable.


    ¡°Have there been any changes to your dietary needs?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± said Chloe. ¡°I haven¡¯t really been enjoying my meals quite as much lately, but I think that¡¯s just because we¡¯re away from the castle.¡±


    Though they had certainly brought a few of the queen¡¯s personal chefs along for the excursion, the ingredients and tools at their disposal were not quite up to the usual par. It couldn¡¯t be helped. There were no markets anywhere nearby, and their fancy ovens were far too large to carry around. It didn¡¯t help that they had to cook larger quantities, which meant that they were unable to put quite as much into refining their quality.


    Arciel was a little less certain. ¡°I was informed that you were asking for water rather frequently.¡±


    ¡°Well, it is hot out here,¡± said Chloe, as she looked at the sun. ¡°And this stuffy maid outfit doesn¡¯t exactly help.¡±


    ¡°Then perhaps you ought to take after the others and replace it?¡±


    Chloe was one of the few maids still wearing her long-sleeved uniform. Nearly everyone else had swapped to a shorter version with thinner fabric, sleeveless shoulders, and a much shorter skirt.


    ¡°That¡¯d be an affront to my pride as a maid! Maids are supposed to be graceful and modest. Those ugly summer clothes are indecent.¡±


    ¡°To think that I would see a day where Chloe stands for decency,¡± muttered the queen. ¡°I suppose I cannot argue the point any further.¡± She extended her arm and removed her glove to reveal her wrist. ¡°Perhaps this then will sate your thirst.¡±


    The half-succubus gulped. She stared intently at the pulsing veins for a solid few seconds before shaking her head and turning away. ¡°I-I think I¡¯m okay.¡±


    ¡°Chloe of Vel¡¯ilum. I order you to drink my blood.¡±


    ¡°H-huh?¡±


    ¡°Do not make me repeat myself.¡±


    ¡°O-okay, okay. I¡¯ll do it,¡± she said meekly. A blush spread from cheek to cheek, Chloe gently took Ciel¡¯s fingers in her hands and slowly brought them towards her face. Her eyes flickering towards the queen¡¯s visage, she found a confident, domineering grin¡ªthe very same that had stolen her heart and loyalty when they first locked eyes so many moons ago.


    A shiver ran up her spine. Her whole body took on a feverish heat as she first pressed her lips against the tips of Ciel¡¯s fingers. She couldn¡¯t stop herself from everything that followed. Her tongue extended from her mouth all on its own and traced its way down the length of her mistress¡¯ hand. She planted a kiss on the kraken¡¯s wrists, and after turning her eyes upward, and seeing a look of approval, sunk her newly grown fangs past her flesh and into her veins.


    Thick, viscous honey flowed down her throat. In a moment, the thirst that had plagued her all day was gone, replaced by an inexplicable euphoria that spread from her lips to her throat to the pit of her stomach. Her head went blank. It felt like her consciousness had cut out and returned and then cut out again. A constant cycle of flickering sentience, echoing, pounding through the back of her mind.


    And then, all of a sudden, it was gone. When she reached for another bite, she realised that her mistress had taken her hand away. Looking up, she found that Arciel¡¯s confidence had been replaced by an amused but troubled smile, a smile that suddenly straightened her mind.


    ¡°More please.¡± But failed to change her behaviour.


    The queen sighed. ¡°It is not abnormal for a vampire to lose herself with her first taste of blood. I admit I was not quite expecting¡­ this reaction, but I suppose that is a miscalculation of mine, given the specifics of your ascension. I shan¡¯t fault you for your behaviour.¡±


    Chloe smiled bashfully.


    ¡°We shall supplement your meals with the blood of our prey.¡±


    A little disappointed, the half-vampire forced a nod.


    ¡°Good. I shall be returning to my duties shortly, but do not hesitate to make demands of the kitchen should your diet require any further adjustment.¡±


    With that, the queen got to her feet and left Chloe to return to her chores.


    The rest of the day¡¯s work was performed to the clanging of steel. Somehow motivated by Commander Kha¡¯oen¡¯s speech, the northern brigade had taken up its arms again for the purpose of self-improvement. Of course, not everyone was exactly inspired by his words. A small handful of people dropped out immediately; five people left the encampment that night, with another ten the morning after. There was also an oddball that refused to participate in any training at all, despite opting to remain behind.


    But for most, the news only sparked desire. Everyone that had survived the subterranean hell had come out of it with tangible results. An entire seven people had ascended¡ªgranted five of them were maids¡ªbut even without hitting important milestones, the warriors had still grown. Visibly. Obviously. Practically overnight.


    Lana and Matthias were among the most eager to train. As was the case with many of the other front-running parties, they had the full weight of the brass¡¯ expectations placed upon their shoulders. And unlike most of the others, they had actually delivered.


    Though they were among the latest to return, courtesy of a particularly lazy member that refused to put in any effort, the second party was the only one to have cleared the last trial. To Claire¡¯s annoyance, they had not only forced her into a corner and drawn out her vector magic¡ªwhich alone would have denoted a clear¡ªbut also nearly defeated her after the fact. In fact, they likely would have done just that had their third combatant not opted to take a nap.


    Lana had changed drastically over the course of the raid. She had become a therianthrope; she could take a more wolf-like form in combat, wherein her face was replaced by a canine visage, and her whole body was covered in white and grey fur. The bulging muscles that accompanied the transformation worked wonders, blessing her with enough might to overpower the near seventy-thousand strength at Claire¡¯s disposal. And yet, she was not the only or even the main threat.


    Having been tasked with cleaning up the corrupt nobility, Matthias had gained over a hundred racial levels since Claire had last seen him in battle, and the durability-focused class that he had taken, following his ascension, made him especially difficult to deal with. His carapace was tougher than her blade, and it was only by freezing it that she could break through his natural armour. Worse yet, he had taken a page out of Pollux¡¯s book and learned to regenerate in battle. He wasn¡¯t entirely immune to the pain, as was the case with many Cadrian elites, but it barely slowed him. She had no doubt that he would perfect the technique by the time they reached the Cadrian border.


    But while the soldiers were certainly improving, not all was well; Claire was incredibly annoyed to find the base camp¡¯s supplies raided upon her return. The foodstuffs storage had been completely ravaged by what appeared to be some sort of wild beast. Boxes were randomly flipped over and unpacked, with their contents spilled and stomped and half-eaten. Tempting as it was to make the assumption, she realised immediately that it couldn¡¯t have been an animal¡¯s work. There were no tracks to indicate such an attack. Whoever had orchestrated it had perfectly covered their trail.


    The timing suggested that it was likely one of the quitters, perhaps someone disgruntled by a candidate¡¯s death, or perhaps the training regimen¡¯s difficulty, so Claire wrote it off as a one-time occurrence.


    But much to her annoyance, it would happen time and time again.

 Chapter 330 - The Scheming God’s Apostle

    Chapter 330 - The Scheming God¡¯s Apostle


    109832 - 6 - 3 - 7


    Dear Diary,


    Today Master B took me to a place with a really big waterfall and made me cut it in half. It was really hard but then Lina showed me the trick. Master B says that I have to get used to being wet so I can get into people¡¯s pants. I don¡¯t really know why I¡¯d want to do that. I tried asking mom but she just said it means Master B has to eat out of a doggie bowl. Master B made a funny face when he saw it and asked why it had dad¡¯s name on it. Dad got so embarrassed his fur stood on end. I think dad might secretly be a dog.


    Lia


    ___


    Claire twisted her lips into a frown as she watched the soldiers engaged in practice. Two and a half weeks had passed since the events of the Ironclad Abyss, and the troupe was nearing the nation¡¯s northernmost border. Since then, the remaining men had raided and survived not only the Maka¡¯arak Ruins, an underwater dungeon filled with intelligent, man-eating beasts, but also the Nightless Jungle, in which there was never any time to rest.


    Like the Ironclad Abyss, the former was carefully crafted by Griselda and designed to challenge each and every individual that wandered into its depths. But having been made by her soul sister, the latter was not nearly as kind. Rikael¡¯s dungeon culled more than half of the participants. Considering themselves lucky to have lived through it, many of the survivors had quit the northern brigade right after.


    All the candidates that had kept at it improved by leaps and bounds. Claire herself was the only exception. Unlike Arciel, who had the liberty of training with the equitaurs, she was stuck with no good way of grinding out her levels. The moon priestess¡¯ training method was inapplicable. Alfred¡¯s creations did not take her damaged circuits into account when evaluating her strength. Each one she fought was so far beyond her extant power level that they were simply impossible to overcome.


    Her own progression was not the only problem that plagued her. Even with many of the troublemakers filtered out, it still appeared that someone was trying to sabotage the operation. The food storage was still being raided at random intervals. They had tried stationing guards outside of it, but somehow, the perpetrator never failed to sneak past them. Claire was almost tempted to pin the blame on Sylvia, but the fox vehemently denied her guilt. In the first place, it was not just the fish that were eaten, nor were food-related problems the only ones they encountered. There were an unnatural number of monsters between their various destinations, with many of them consisting of non-native species. The associated combat itself was hardly a problem, but the influx of aggressive beasts damaged the local crop yields and infrastructures, making it more difficult and expensive to acquire goods in the villages and towns they passed.


    Claire had every intention of very slowly strangling the perpetrator when she found him, and it wouldn¡¯t be long by the looks of it. Only twelve of the hundred or so initial candidates remained. She would be able to narrow it down to either one of five or one of seven once they picked their champions. And she was planning to track him down regardless of whether he was left behind.


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯d be better to pick six just in case¡­¡±


    She wondered aloud as she returned her eyes to the training grounds. Unlike Boris and Starrgort, whose staring contest was evenly matched, many of the spars and duels trended towards being entirely one-sided. It was a problem of compatibility. Different people were best at dealing with certain problems, and with that in mind, there were two different approaches to choosing their combatants. The first was to group the candidates based on their combat styles and select the best few under each umbrella.


    Her father would most likely allow them to select the matchups as a way of expressing Cadria¡¯s generosity and superiority, and having a wider variety of classes meant that they could be more flexible about picking the right people for each job. But there was a critical weakness to that particular approach¡ªit assumed that their foes would opt for a fairly even distribution. And Claire highly doubted that to be the case.


    Her father had decided to let the people fight over the positions themselves, which meant that they would be taken by all the best duelists. Coincidentally, most of them happened to be warriors, rogues, and their derivative classes. Allegra was the only pure mage that truly excelled at single combat, and the snooping that Claire had done in Rubia¡¯s body had revealed that the Grand Magus had no intention of participating. That wasn¡¯t to say that the Cadrian roster would be filled with meat-headed brutes. Thanks to her father, battlemages were still in fashion, the configurations and weaknesses of which were variable to say the least.


    That was why she was tempted to go with a method akin to her father¡¯s and simply choose the most powerful individuals regardless of their class groupings, but she couldn¡¯t quite commit to it right off the bat. There was an itching sensation in the back of her mind, a concern that there was a better way to go about the problem without carrying everyone forward.


    Alas, she had no time to arrive at it. She only had a few hours left to put together a list of the best candidates, as the council was to compare and contrast their choices later on in the afternoon.


    A sigh escaped Claire¡¯s lips as she scanned the various battlefields again. Everyone had an easily identified weakness.


    Enrique was at both the top and the bottom of her list. He would surely prove himself to be a powerful asset if they could knab a corpse from the Langgjerns, but his possession technique was easily defeated. The corpses he borrowed were exactly as described¡ªcorpses. Being already dead, they were incapable of any sort of regeneration, and removing Enrique¡¯s ability to draw out a body¡¯s full potential was as easy as starting a bar fight the night before his duel. Her countrymen might have been putting on an air of fairness, but it was all just theatre. They were happy to exploit such underhanded methods away from the public eye.


    They might have been able to overcome the problem by stashing the corpse up a mountain and teleporting it the day of. But not only did that method run the risk of defying Flitzegarde and exposing their vector magic, it was still unreliable. A random monster could easily happen upon the body and scavenge it for dinner while the dwarf engaged in the necessary formalities. Using Enrique was a gamble; writing him off was the far safer choice.


    She had similar complaints for many of the others. The class that Lana acquired in the wake of her ascension compensated for her lacklustre speed by allowing her to create a zone of domination. Inside of her domain, her perception and movements were sped up many, many times. She may as well have been invincible while she hung around inside of it, but it fizzled out as soon as she stepped out, and it required a few seconds of channelling to establish. More importantly, its static nature rendered it highly susceptible to area-based attacks. It was a major flaw that, by itself, was already grounds for disqualification.


    Sophia was no better. Her body¡¯s specifications eclipsed those of the other candidates, but mentally, she was always a few steps behind. Not only that, she was bad at paying attention to details¡ªtwo major flaws that the lyrkress was unwilling to simply overlook. In the first place, one¡¯s physical abilities were not the most important facet. That much was easily demonstrated by U¡¯ula, who was coincidentally also written off Claire¡¯s list. The priest was a talented apostle to the goddess of half-truths. His ars magna was an impossibly powerful ability that forced his enemies to answer his questions. Anyone that lied or refused to speak had their bodies bent out of shape by his goddess¡¯ might. Against her countrymen, however, it would no doubt be sadly ineffective. Bearing the excruciating pain that resulted was well within their wheelhouse and their rapid regeneration allowed for them to undo its effects.


    Compounding the already glaring weaknesses were a number of notable psychological flaws. Jules the clam was so lazy that he would rather let himself be knocked out than put in the necessary effort, Matthias was never serious from the start, and the royal guard¡¯s commander was so self-appreciative that it impeded his progression.


    Picking from the list was a nightmare; at the end of all her evaluations, Claire found a piece of parchment with all twelve names struck out.


    One could certainly make the argument that she was simply being too harsh, but seeing the results of the enemy¡¯s preparations, she could say for certain that it was a basic necessity. They needed someone with no obvious weaknesses. It was the only way they could take on a trained soldier two hundred levels up. But of course, such a person could not have possibly existed.


    To pick a class was to pick a specific set of tradeoffs. It was possible to compensate for one¡¯s weaknesses with one¡¯s other choices, but a configuration that had all of its sore points addressed was even weaker than one without any shortcomings at all. All-rounders were susceptible to the rampant brute force employed by their specialized peers. It was only by acquiring rare, powerful classes and subsequently inflating one¡¯s numbers that a lower-leveled challenger could mathematically overcome a higher-leveled opponent.


    Some rare classes required knowledge or happenstance¡ªit was only under specific conditions that they were unlocked. Being restructured by Alfred, for example, allowed for one to acquire Llystletein variants. Similar phenomena could be found even beyond the pervert¡¯s borders by performing feats that the world could not simply deign to ignore, with punching above one¡¯s weight class and impressing the gods among the most common. But for the most part, rare variants could be unlocked with diligence and effort. Simply dedicating oneself to a specific routine or way of life could earn the system¡¯s acknowledgement, as was the case with Chloe¡¯s most recent ascension. She had only managed to become something that was both a vampire and a succubus¡ªa combination previously known by only three other individuals¡ªbecause her everyday actions had deemed her worthy.


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    And therein lay the problem.


    They were up against the most diligent, warmongering nation on the continent. For the Cadrian people, strength was a necessity. There was no other way for them to survive the mana-rich, monster-plagued lands their ancestors had chosen to settle. Their armies were far more devoted to training and careful in the consideration of long-term improvement.


    Even an ordinary soldier¡¯s ability point gain was one and a half times that of their class tier¡¯s average. They still fell short of the doubled gains provided by exceptionally powerful mutations, like those of the Llystletein variety, but they were still impressive enough to blow the ordinary Joe straight out of the water.


    It was a discrepancy that left Claire anxious. She would have to figure out a way for the northern brigade to accomplish something absurd. If they simply followed Griselda¡¯s plan, even if the allotted time was indeterminate, it was unlikely that they would ever catch up.


    ¡°Uhmmm, Claire? I know you¡¯re worried, but you really don¡¯t have to stress that much.¡± The nuisance sitting on the lyrkress¡¯ head slid down her face and into her lap.


    ¡°I¡¯m not worried.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh, and I¡¯m not a fox,¡± said the dog. ¡°It¡¯s not like it matters who you pick anyway, right? Everyone¡¯s gonna listen to you as soon as you beat up your dad.¡±


    ¡°Even Flitzegarde agrees that it isn¡¯t possible for me to defeat my father.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! Don¡¯t be such a spoilsport. Just like, close your eyes and imagine what it¡¯d be like to totally kick his butt. I bet it¡¯ll make you feel better.¡±


    Claire shuttered her eyelids and, at her pet¡¯s behest, considered their relative battle prowess.


    ¡°What the heck!¡± cried the hat, after a brief delay. ¡°I told you to imagine you kicking his butt, not him kicking yours, silly!¡±


    ¡°Stop reading my mind.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not! I can¡¯t read minds!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve said that seventy-four times and I¡¯ve believed it zero.¡±


    ¡°Wait, why the heck have you been keeping count!?¡± cried the fox. ¡°And what the heck! Aren¡¯t we supposed to be best friends!? You¡¯re supposed to trust me!¡±


    ¡°I will. Once you stop lying to my face.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no point! It¡¯s your fault in the first place! You literally see through everything I say,¡± complained the half-elf.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s supposed to be my problem.¡±


    ¡°It totally is!¡± huffed Sylvia. ¡°You don¡¯t even need that stupid ability anymore anyway! You stopped being a noble like last year!¡±


    ¡°Considering you and your pranks, I¡¯d say it¡¯s well worth keeping around.¡± Claire scratched the fox¡¯s chin. ¡°And after all this is said and done, I doubt Father¡¯s going to just let me roam free.¡±


    ¡°Ughhh, this again. It¡¯s always the daddy issues with you,¡± grumbled Sylvia. ¡°I told you! You just need to imagine yourself totally kicking his butt.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine what isn¡¯t possible.¡±


    ¡°Stop coming up with dumb excuses and just do it!¡± The fox puffed up her cheeks. ¡°Or I¡¯ll get mad and bite you!¡±


    Claire sighed. ¡°Fine.¡± Closing her eyes again, she envisioned the impossible scenario of moving at a hundred times his speed and bashing her fist into his jaw until he eventually fell over.


    ¡°Finally!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I told you it would make you feel better.¡±


    ¡°Only a little,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Now you just have to do it for real.¡±


    ¡°Not happening,¡± said Claire. ¡°Do you remember what I told you about his ultimate?¡±


    ¡°You mean how it lets him nullify stuff and heal back up and stuff?¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°It makes him practically invincible. The only way to beat him is to completely destroy him in close combat.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you just like, weaken him with an ultimate or something and then finish him off normally?¡±


    ¡°Unlikely.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ well I don¡¯t think it hurts to try,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And your realm seems like it¡¯d kinda do the trick, maybe?¡±


    ¡°You mean the realm that I haven¡¯t been able to cast since I ascended?¡±


    ¡°Uhhhh, yeah. That one,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Oh! I think I forgot to tell you but Al said he thinks he can probably fix you if you let him stare at your privates for a bit. But he didn¡¯t think you¡¯d agree so he didn¡¯t even bother bringing it up.¡±


    Claire twisted her face in disgust. ¡°Absolutely not. Stupid, perverted fox.¡±


    ¡°What the heck!? Why are you calling me a perv!? It¡¯s not me! It¡¯s him!¡±


    ¡°I might¡¯ve believed you, if you didn¡¯t sneak into my bed and beg for a kiss.¡±


    ¡°T-that¡¯s just ¡®cause it gave me a cast of my ulti!¡± cried Sylvia. ¡°A-a-and you said it was worth it!¡±


    ¡°It was.¡± Claire paused briefly. ¡°Wait, just one?¡±


    ¡°Mhm. Al said one each.¡± She fiddled with her paws. ¡°B-but one should be enough anyway. I only really need it for emergencies and stuff.¡±


    ¡°How inconvenient it must be for your ultimate to be locked behind Alfred¡¯s whims.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on, it¡¯s not that bad. At least I don¡¯t need to beg the gods to use mine.¡±


    Claire pouted. ¡°I¡¯m going to pinch your cheeks.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no point telling me after you¡¯ve literally already started doing it!¡± cried the furball.


    ¡°Stupid fox.¡± Using her vectors to keep the hat¡¯s face stretched, Claire tightened her grip on the fox¡¯s midsection and returned her eyes to the crowd. The conversation had served as a decent break, but she couldn¡¯t afford to stay distracted. They needed to choose their champions. As the only member of the brigade familiar with Cadrian standards, the brunt of the responsibility was hers to bear.


    ___


    An old criocentaur stroked his beard as he silently walked through an empty corridor. His hooved feet echoed with every step he took, their keratin bases resounding against the stone that lay beneath them. He could have easily suppressed their sounds if he wanted. After all, the man¡¯s highest level class was delivered from the assassin tree, even though he feigned a warrior-like composition in front of the rest of the court. The deception was not one of a malicious nature, but rather a lie born of sheer necessity. There existed no such thing as an effective assassin that did not conceal his blade.


    That particular creed was something that the man had gone out of his way to pass along. It, like his many secret techniques, had been driven into his successor and used as the core tenants of continued existence.


    Even the most perfect mask, however, needed holes through which its wearer could breathe. And in Ephesus''s case, those holes could easily be used to expose his parallel existence. Case in point, the man¡¯s state of solitude. To walk through the streets alone at night was foolish, precisely because he was a noble with immense political sway. It was only sensible to proceed with a guard or seven in tow.


    To venture about by his lonesome was to either state that he was a fool, which stood in direct opposition to his image as a particularly intelligent man, or to declare that he was capable of escaping any situation that arose. And despite the fantasies of many of the men that lorded over the court, a pure warrior was capable of no such feat. By spotting him all alone, an enemy spy could easily make the connection and deduce that he was hiding the full extent of his might.


    It was a foolish move on all accounts. But one that Ephesus had made in confidence regardless. After all, he was known as the only criocentaur to squeeze his way up into the uppermost ranks despite not being a criocentaur at all. In fact, he was not even a he, but one of the few, undeniable its that lurked in Cadria¡¯s shadow.


    That much was made clear when the supposed goat entered its child¡¯s domain. After phasing through a solid wall lined with layers of magical traps, the creature took off its lower half and left it on a rack. The two feet that remained each featured five toes of increasing size, almost as if to suggest that it was human. But a quick glance at its nether regions revealed that not to be the case.


    After all, there was no such thing as a human with absolutely nothing between its legs. There was no phallus, no gonads, nor even a method by which such organs could be inserted. The creature¡¯s crotch was perfectly smooth, despite being made of the same skin that decorated its upper half.


    But of course, even that was a ruse. It could have easily taken off the top half of its body and revealed itself in its entirety, but Ephesus chose to do no such thing. Taking off one¡¯s lower half was considered customary, but to remove the remaining portion would leave it to appear obscene.


    ¡°Welcome,¡± said the marquis¡¯ child. Like the older counterpart it greeted, the younger lorturus was impersonating a nearly identical goat. Officially, they were father and son. Even though one had asexually spawned the other.


    ¡°I am here for the usual report,¡± said Ephesus.


    Its child nodded. ¡°The Vel¡¯khanese have finished with much of their initial training. The results are largely as you have predicted.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± said the marquis. ¡°Has your position been compromised?¡±


    ¡°Not in the slightest. I have been able to proceed with my observations undetected.¡±


    ¡°It appears that there is nothing but good news on all sides then.¡± Ephesus smiled. ¡°The king has approved our plans for interference. He has even gone as far as gracing us with a carte blanche to do whatever it is we please.¡±


    ¡°I assume we proceed as planned?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Ephesus twisted its lips into a sadistic grin. ¡°Let¡¯s put on a show that will entertain even the goddess of war.¡±

 Chapter 331 - The Scheming God’s Apostle II

    Chapter 331 - The Scheming God¡¯s Apostle II


    ¡°The council has arrived at its decision.¡± Arciel stepped onto the training grounds in her usual attire. She wore a short dress with a particularly revealing chest piece and a massive hat whose radius far exceeded her own. The silken uniform was disposable casual wear, but the queen¡¯s confidence enforced an impression of elegance and grace regardless. ¡°For those of you who were not selected, I bid that you do not despair. I thank you for the time and effort you have invested. It is because of your presence, drive, and dedication that your peers were able to improve as they were. There is a reward awaiting each of you within the castle¡¯s halls. You may let a member of staff know of a place to see it delivered should you not wish to return to the capital.¡±


    Claire, who had followed Arciel in her longest form, desperately fought the urge to pass out as the queen¡¯s longwinded lullaby wormed its way through the back of her mind. The words nearly stole her consciousness, even as she stared down the crowd and watched for anyone whose actions might have seemed suspicious. Her drowsiness was not entirely a function of the lecture. The debate had lasted through the night and into the early afternoon. There were only seven decision-makers¡ªClaire, Arciel, and five intelligence officers that had joined them on the expedition for the sole purpose of serving as an advisory body¡ªand yet, they had argued till morning. Claire stopped caring roughly halfway through the discussion, but much to her annoyance, the council had prodded her awake every time they wished for her input.


    In the end, they had decided on Ace, Krail, Lana, Matthias, and U¡¯ula. Sophia was taken along as an extra sixth, just in case one of the previous five happened to be the person that Claire had sworn to strangle. She was fairly confident that she could determine the person¡¯s identity through a series of interviews if it came down to the wire, but she wanted to wait until she had more information before she forced a confrontation.


    Shaking her head of the thought, she turned her eyes to the crowd and watched their faces as Arciel read out the names of the chosen. For the fighters themselves, the results were not particularly surprising. The participants sparred often enough to have a decent idea of roughly where they stood.


    ¡°The fuck!? This is bullshit!¡± There was only one person among them that had any interest in protesting the decision. ¡°Half this, I get, but you¡¯re seriously taking the priest, the elf, and the stupid fucking shark that¡¯s growing like a fucking snail!? What kind of dumb ass nepotism shit is this? I thought we were supposed to be trying to win, goddammit!¡±


    Turning towards the voice¡¯s source revealed a talking clam. His name was Jules. He didn¡¯t have a family name or a second part to his moniker, and from what Claire had gathered, he was either a mercenary or an adventurer. There was very little data on his past. The only thing they knew was that he was on the younger side. According to many of the others, it was clear from his outward appearance, but Claire found it almost impossible to tell. After all, the only thing that there was inside of his shell was an amorphous, off-white blob that would occasionally assume a humanoid shape.


    ¡°It was the council that decided the placements,¡± said Arciel, calmly. She raised a fan to her face and only barely hid the smile that had spread from ear to ear. ¡°But I admit that there is possible fault with its judgement. Speak. I shall allow you to air your complaints.¡±


    ¡°Your council is either filling you with horse shit or full of fucking idiots!¡± said the youth. ¡°That priest ain¡¯t worth shit in a fight to the death, the elf loses to anything that even remotely resembles a monk, and that fucking landshark is so damn stupid she can¡¯t think herself out an open door! She doesn¡¯t even grow fast! She¡¯s gained less power than anyone else here!¡±


    ¡°Your judgement is sound,¡± said Arciel, ¡°but there is no reason for us to believe that you are superior given your lack of effort. Surely you must understand, if you are so intelligent as to have noticed their flaws, that it was necessary to prove your worth and your drive to be considered?¡±


    The clam scoffed. ¡°I¡¯ve more than proved my worth in those dungeons you put us through. And why the fuck would I bother training with a group of scrubs? Even daydreaming is a better use of my time than sparring with those idiots.¡±


    Arciel tapped her fan against her chin and considered the clam¡¯s points while Claire thought back to his dungeon runs. There was at least some merit to his claims. He had never exactly demonstrated anything impressive. In fact, he hadn¡¯t demonstrated anything at all. When isolated, he simply avoided every encounter in his path and worked his way to the destination. When put in a group, he sat back and allowed his party to take care of the problem, throwing a spell or two only when it was required. His overall lack of enthusiasm and his refusal to demonstrate his powers meant that he was generally put in parties with more competent individuals, so they always managed even without his input.


    Given that they had only explored three destinations, one could easily write his success off as a product of happenstance, but he had certainly never once been the point of failure in any of the three dungeons in which the brigade had dived. In fact, he was part of the only party to clear the first dungeon and in one of the two groups to clear the last.


    Of course, not everyone was capable of deducing his competency from his dungeon-related activities. The only side of him that even his party members knew was that of the lazy bastard who kicked up his feet while everyone else diligently devoted themselves to training. That was why the council had, for the most part, misjudged and outright dismissed him. But evidently, contrary to popular belief, it was not sloth that prevented his participation, but pure, unbridled arrogance; he didn¡¯t think that his potential challengers were worth his attention. A less confident man in his position likely would have shown off his prowess, but Jules was so full of himself that he didn¡¯t care for anyone else¡¯s approval.


    ¡°Prove it then,¡± said Claire. Arciel had yet to respond, so she stepped between them and suggested a solution.


    The clam crossed his arms. ¡°You of all people should be able to te¡ª¡±


    ¡°Not to me.¡±


    There was a brief pause as the two of them exchanged a stare.


    ¡°Fine.¡± The man clapped his shell and detonated every tree within fifty meters of his person with a crimson blast. It was not one big explosion, but a chain of several hundred smaller ones that erupted in sequence. Whatever the case, the clearing that had become their base¡ªlocated just outside the last trial¡¯s dungeon¡ªhad its size dramatically increased.


    The detonations were his school¡¯s attacks, built upon a base of fire and pure arcane. The system described it as red magic, and it could only be acquired by combining one specific level five hundred class with another. It was similar to her titular class, but while the fusion still cannibalized his levels, it did at least refund the associated slot. Such combinations were common for higher-tier classes, and a pure fire mage could have easily erased the base class thrice by the time his second ascension was through.


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    What stood out most about the man¡¯s demonstration was the speed and quantity of his explosions. They were fast enough that they could be adapted for any use and numerous enough to jam his foes¡¯ senses with the accompanying clutter. If his laidback attitude had anything to say, then it was nowhere near his limit.


    ¡°Force U¡¯ula t¡ª¡±


    The blast went off before she could even finish the sentence. The priest¡¯s reaction was just as quick. He began erecting a holy barrier as soon as his name was called, but there was a fundamental difference in the speed of their magic. Everything below the kelpfin¡¯s pelvis was reduced to dust by the time his mana had started to escape the tips of his fingers.


    ¡°Not bad,¡± said Claire. She turned to Arciel, who folded her fan and nodded.


    ¡°Very well. U¡¯ula¡¯s position shall be claimed by Jules instead,¡± she said. ¡°Are there any objections? Or is there anyone else who wishes to contest a position?¡± The camp was silent. No one said anything of note until Arciel raised her voice again. ¡°Very well. Those who shall soon be departing, please reconvene with Captain Kha¡¯oen to arrange for transport to Vel¡¯khagan. The rest of you may report to Chloe, the head maid. And as for the medical staff, I bid you to attend to U¡¯ula immediately.¡±


    Brushing her hair, the queen found a half-destroyed log and took a seat on top of it. Though she hadn¡¯t been as willing as Claire to let it show on her face, the long night¡¯s discussions had left her no less exhausted.


    The crowd didn¡¯t stir until the medics arrived on the scene and broke the silence with their communications.


    ¡°Shame you didn¡¯t make it.¡± Ace threw an arm around a giant turtle with a rocky shell.


    ¡°With how that exchange just went, I¡¯m honestly kinda glad,¡± he muttered. ¡°That was ruthless.¡±


    ¡°Are you stupid?¡± Jules shot the turtle a glare. ¡°Being that soft is what got us here in the first place.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean she had to approve of you blowing the poor sap¡¯s legs off.¡±


    The clam snorted. ¡°Suck it up and deal with it. It¡¯s not like I killed him.¡±


    ¡°You pi¡ª¡±


    A clap interrupted the fight and drew everyone¡¯s attention to the head maid. ¡°That¡¯s enough for now, you two,¡± she said, with an awkward, forced smile. ¡°We don¡¯t really have the time for this right now. Please get your things ready so that we can move out as soon as possible. Make sure you pack everything you need. Only nine of us will be heading any further north and we¡¯re doing away with much of the caravan, so only bring what you can carry.¡±


    ¡°Where are we going, exactly?¡± asked Ace.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± Chloe smiled awkwardly. ¡°North?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re heading to Cadria,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°The fuck?¡± Jules raised a brow. ¡°Already?¡±


    ¡°We shall conduct our training along the way. Griselda has chosen for us a path that shall empower us both physically and mentally as we walk along it,¡± said Arciel. ¡°It falls upon us as our first order of business to see Moros through an impending crisis. I suggest you refer to your logs for confirmation.¡±


    Log Entry 850137


    You have received a quest - Guiding Light


    Objective: Travel to Cadria and complete your training under the Lunar Queen¡¯s command.


    Successful completion merits a reward from Griselda, goddess of the moon. Rewards are presented as divine relics or boons of otherwise equal value.


    Despite knowing that the queen was the goddess¡¯ priestess, many of the quest¡¯s recipients were surprised to see it delivered. They oohed and aahed as they looked it over, their eyes beneath the afternoon sun.


    ¡°A divine quest!?¡± exclaimed Ace, with his eyes wide open.


    ¡°Another scam, no doubt,¡± said Krail. ¡°It¡¯s always about the bribery with these so-called gods.¡±


    ¡°Damn. I would¡¯ve tried even harder if I knew the goddess was watching.¡± Even some of the rejected saw their moods uplifted despite having failed to take part. Perhaps it was simply reassuring to know that their queen¡¯s seemingly ruthless actions were entirely goddess-approved. Perhaps, some of them reasoned, the entire skit was arranged.


    Of course, not everyone was filled with energy. Some were disinterested, while others were full of regret. There was even a group that was more annoyed than not. Said category contained exactly three people. One was Claire, who was irritated by the vague, non-committal terms, and the second was the elf, who clearly did not believe.


    His lips were twisted into a scowl and his foot tapped against the ground in a regular pattern that oozed with irritation. Still, he refrained from voicing his opinion, even though another greenwood in his position surely would have flown into a full-blown lecture. Claire couldn¡¯t quite pin the reason for his silence but she appreciated it nonetheless. The last thing they needed was for the expedition to devolve into a theological debate.


    And as for the last? Her situation differed slightly from the other two.


    ¡°Wait! Why did I get the quest!?¡± cried Chloe. ¡°Please don¡¯t tell me this means I¡¯m going to have to fight.¡±


    ¡°Do you not think it to be appropriate? Your growth has far exceeded even that of many of the combatants,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be a maid!¡± cried the succubus.


    ¡°Perhaps, but your strengthening shall allow you to continue your service even in the most extreme conditions. This is no doubt a choice born of our goddess¡¯ foresight.¡±


    ¡°Yes, bu¡ª¡±


    ¡°I certainly would not mind offering you an additional reward in the case that the pace of your growth exceeds my own.¡±


    The maid¡¯s tiny wings fluttered like her heart as her eyes were filled with sparkles. ¡°I¡¯ll try my best!¡±


    ¡°Maybe we ought to start including her in the spars,¡± said Ace, with a chuckle.


    ¡°No thank you,¡± said Chloe. Imitating a certain someone, she met the lizard with a glare nearly icy enough to force him into torpor.


    ¡°On that note, perhaps it is worth mentioning that Claire and I shall be joining in on the training from this point onwards,¡± said Arciel. ¡°While you may be hesitant to attack me, given my position, I bid that you treat me as you would any other member of the brigade. It will only be to your own benefit to face me with the full extent of your power.¡±


    ¡°Enough.¡± Claire lightly prodded the queen in the side. ¡°Less talking, more leaving.¡±


    ¡°A fair point indeed,¡± said the queen. ¡°Let us each return to our tents so we may pack our necessities.¡± Nodding first at the group that would be accompanying her, then again at the rejected candidates, and finally her knights and servants, she returned to her tent and began doing as described. Few of the others followed suit until Chloe raised her voice.


    ¡°Please get your luggage sorted as quickly as possible. We¡¯ll be setting out within the hour.¡±


    It was only after the announcement that the people suddenly went from idly chatting to hurrying along. The chosen champions grabbed their things, organized their thoughts, and prepared to leave Vel¡¯khan.

 Chapter 332 - The Scheming God’s Apostle III

    Chapter 332 - The Scheming God¡¯s Apostle III


    Sylvia raised her butt and stretched her back as her mind was slowly reinstated. Like butterflies in the wind, her eyes slowly fluttered open and revealed the beautiful dawn sky, only to close again as an embarrassingly long yawn found its way up her throat.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± she said, as she settled back into her chair.


    ¡°It¡¯s not morning,¡± said the two-legged sofa.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t?¡± She turned her eyes to the horizon and confirmed its colour. ¡°It looks like morning.¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s evening.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± The fox blinked. ¡°Wait, really!?¡±


    She stood up on her hind legs and scanned their surroundings. Surely enough, a quick look confirmed that the camp was freshly established. The only maid chopped up their rations while the champions engaged in their evening routines. Some were sparring, some were practicing their forms, and some were resting, doing away with the day¡¯s fatigue knowing that they would soon be tasked with guarding the camp.


    Looking purely at the scene before her, the fox was almost, almost tempted to think that the head maid was living up to her title. It was only her ability to read the succubus¡¯ mind that convinced her otherwise. Chloe was surprisingly high spec; she had four separate streams of consciousness running perfectly in parallel. It was a shame then that three of them were occupied with lewd thoughts. Even the last was half consumed¡ªit was truly a marvel how she was functional at all.


    ¡°What the heck!? I swear it was evening when I went to bed last night too. How did I sleep for a whole day!?¡±


    ¡°I was wondering the same thing,¡± said Claire. ¡°I was going to dunk you into a river if you didn¡¯t wake up in another hour.¡±


    ¡°Wha!?¡± Sylvia looked into her pet¡¯s head and found a perfectly constructed image of her holding a fully conscious fox underwater. ¡°Now that¡¯s just mean!¡±


    ¡°I needed to check if you were still alive.¡±


    ¡°You can literally hear my heartbeat!¡± said the vixen, with her cheeks puffed up.


    ¡°I needed to check if you were in a coma.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you should try to drown me!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. It would¡¯ve been my last resort,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Liar!¡± cried the fox. She lightly thwacked her paws against her chair over and over. ¡°Ughhh. You¡¯re so mean,¡± she huffed.


    Though still annoyed, Sylvia eventually halted her paws with a humph and returned her eyes to the area around them. They had set up camp in a clearing along the side of a forested road. Both sides had large trees extending far and wide, as was the case back home, but the scenery was not exactly familiar. While Vel¡¯khan¡¯s forests were made up of dense jungle, the foreign land was not quite as overgrown. The soil was much sandier and its composition greatly limited what could and couldn¡¯t grow. Most of the trees were cypresses, palms, and ginkgos, with the occasional honey locust and zelkova mixed in. The ground was still covered in grasses, but there were a few shrubs and bushes present to hide the trees¡¯ roots. At least compared to what they were accustomed to, the landscape was empty and bare.


    There were only two tents set up around the site. They were identical, for the most part, but the men¡¯s faced towards the fire while the women¡¯s was directed away from it. Considering Arciel¡¯s position, it would have made more sense to bring three tents along, but the queen had explicitly spoken out against it.


    Given the headcount, the women¡¯s tent should have been a bit of a tighter squeeze, but it was only really the men who found themselves uncomfortable. Jules, whose shell had a diameter of three meters at its thickest point, took up as much room as Claire, Sylvia, and Lana combined. It wasn¡¯t like Ace or Matthias were much smaller, with the lizardman standing over two meters and the mantis nearing three. The reptile had an added tail to consider, and the mantis¡¯ shape was anything but compact. Krail was the only one whose size fell within the standard humanoid range, but the men took up more space than the women even with him entirely dismissed.


    Space wouldn¡¯t have been a problem had they used regular army tents, but the group had gone with something more standard for travellers. The smaller tents were not only easier to carry but far less off-putting and conspicuous.


    Parked just outside the sleeping quarters were half a dozen turberi. The three pairs took turns hauling the covered wagon throughout the day. And though they didn¡¯t quite share the responsibility, Boris and Starrgort were stationed alongside them. The two somewhat intelligent animals had been assigned the task of watching over the supplies; they were to ensure that no one got in while the lyrkress¡¯ attention was turned away¡ªnot that she was expecting them to succeed.


    Sylvia was so bored that she almost wanted to join them. The party had spent the past three days doing nothing but walking, in spite of the moon¡¯s supposed guidance. Groaning aloud, she turned her eyes towards the rising space rock and gave it a bit of a glare. Griselda almost seemed to respond; she could swear that her eyes twinkled and her hat twitched, but both changes were too subtle and momentary for her to say for sure. Her attention remained fixed on the floating object until her ears caught a distant crackle. Raising them overhead, she shifted her eyes to the road and waited for them to catch the disturbance.


    At first, it blended into the horizon, but its reds and yellows only hid it for so long. As it continued to approach, it revealed itself as a burning carriage. There were no animals out in front, but it barrelled down the road regardless. The driver was in much the same state as the vehicle. His body was covered in flames, with the few parts of it still visible charred a deep black. And yet, he was still moving, whipping his reins as he commanded the non-existent mounts that pulled his wagon along.


    A closer look revealed that he was not alone. There was a bipedal, cat-tailed frog in front of the burning coach. He was pumping his legs as hard as he possibly could and screaming at the top of his lungs. Though one might have suspected that he would rejoice, upon seeing other travelers, his face only paled when his eyes caught the encampment.


    ¡°What the hell are you doing!?¡± he screamed. ¡°Don¡¯t just sit there! Get to the water, quick! Before it changes targets!¡±


    His panic failed to spread, but Sylvia¡¯s chair slowly got to her feet and walked out onto the road.


    ¡°Are you insane!? Run, damn it!¡± The man tried to grab her when he passed, but she flicked his hand away and raised an arm in front of her. A wave of ice erupted from her palm and swallowed the monster whole, putting out its flames in the blink of an eye.


    Eyes wide, the man slowly lost momentum and fell onto the ground with his chest heaving up a storm. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, between heavy breaths. ¡°You saved my life.¡± When he finally found the strength to stand, however, his saviour was nowhere to be seen. She had already returned to her seat.


    ¡°What a strange monster,¡± remarked Arciel. With all its fire quenched, the creature¡¯s form was made clear. It was fairly wagon-like. It had the standard wooden frame as well as four large wheels to keep it steady. Its propulsion was derived from the equally wooden hands and feet that grew out from its underbelly. The limbs were so massive that they looked completely out of place. Their size only seemed to match the massive, three-holed face that sat beneath the driver.


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    ¡°It was a trent,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°How curious,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Its shape is strikingly bizarre.¡±


    The grug on the road stumbled over. ¡°You must not be from around here,¡± he said. ¡°Most domestic trents are shaped in ways that make them easier to use,¡± he said.


    Claire looked between the frozen tree and the man it had chased. ¡°Domestic?¡±


    He laughed nervously. ¡°That one just happened to catch the maddening disease that¡¯s been going around, so it weren¡¯t much in the way of friendly, but most of them are gentle.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± said Claire. She returned her attention to the half-made ice sculpture floating between her hands.


    To her annoyance, the frog failed to take the hint. Not moving from where he stood, he fidgeted around and kept shifting his eyes towards her and eventually raised his voice. ¡°You uhm, interested in the disease at all?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Not particularly,¡± said the lyrkress.


    The grug made a face, but Claire ignored it and continued to practice her magic.


    Sylvia couldn¡¯t be bothered to participate in the conversation at first, but she perked up after a delay, and half-panicked, trapped the frog in a bubble.


    ¡°Wait a second!¡± she said. ¡°Doesn¡¯t this kinda smell like an opportunity to fight something strong?¡±


    ¡°It is difficult to say without any additional information,¡± said Arciel, with her eyes on the imprisoned frog. ¡°What have you done to him?¡± He didn¡¯t seem to be moving or reacting to any external stimulus. His expression remained unchanged even as the world around him continued to move.


    ¡°I put him in stasis just in case. Since y¡¯know, it¡¯d be a bit of a pain to help him if he¡¯s not really the guy we¡¯re supposed to help.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps it would be best if I spoke to him myself then?¡± said Arciel. ¡°Claire is likely to drive him away before we are able to extract any meaningful information.¡±


    The lyrkress frowned. ¡°I¡¯m better than you at interrogating people.¡±


    ¡°I believe your use of the term interrogation suffices as grounds for immediate disqualification,¡± said Arciel, with an awkward smile, ¡°but very well. If you wish to deal with him, I shall gladly allow it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t wish to deal with anybody,¡± grumbled Claire.


    ¡°Okay, uhm I think we¡¯re probably ready, so I¡¯m gonna unfreeze him now.¡±


    Sylvia clapped her paws and popped the bubble that had formed around the man¡¯s body. He blinked a few times as soon as he was released and slowly moved his head around. He even scratched the spot right behind his awfully feline ears before turning back towards the lyrkress. ¡°Did something happen just now?¡±


    ¡°Not at all,¡± said Claire. ¡°Now leave.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait!¡± said Sylvia, after bubbling the man again. ¡°Didn¡¯t you just say you were going to interrogate him!? Why are you telling him to leave!?¡±


    ¡°I know what I¡¯m doing. Any minute now, he¡¯s going to volunteer everything he knows,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°Now stop complaining and let me work.¡±


    ¡°Well uhm¡­ alright, I guess.¡±


    With yet another casual clap, Sylvia once again removed the man from his bubble. He stumbled for a second when it popped and brought a hand to the side of his head. He was clearly disturbed, but he continued speaking nonetheless.


    ¡°Can you please just hear me out, at least? This disease, the firerot, it¡¯s hurting our village real bad. And it¡¯s not just ours. All the other villages in the area are in trouble too,¡± he begged.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. Go away,¡±


    The man hung his head. ¡°Right. None of a traveller¡¯s business,¡± he said. ¡°Sorry.¡± His face still fixed on the ground in front of him, he walked away from the campfire with his hands balled into fists.


    ¡°Oh, come on! What the heck!?¡± cried Sylvia, as she trapped the man in a third temporal anomaly. ¡°You literally had him! Why the heck would you tell him to go away!?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s part of the plan.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no way it is!¡± cried the fox. ¡°You¡¯re literally just doing this to mess with us now!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± said Claire, with a perfectly blank stare. ¡°I promise.¡±


    ¡°And I don¡¯t believe you,¡± huffed the fox. Despite continuing to complain, the vixen eventually put her paws together and released the cat-frog from his prison.


    That was when Claire descended upon him. Shaping her hand like a knife and raising it above her head, she knocked him out in the blink of an eye and left Sylvia with her jaw hanging open.


    ¡°Heal him,¡± said Claire, as she dragged him towards the campfire.


    ¡°Uhm¡­ okay.¡± The fox was too tired to argue, so she simply did as told and hummed a quick tune. The glowing notes that strayed from her lips circled around the man, and after a brief dance, entered his body and filled it with light.


    He began to stir as soon as it faded, rubbing his eyes, as well as the bump on the back of his head, as he slowly got to his feet. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± he muttered. ¡°I swear everything kept¡­ stuttering. Did I black out?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re awake. Good morning,¡± said Claire, with a bright, friendly smile. ¡°Are you okay? You hit your head awfully hard while you were running from that trent,¡± she said, as she pointed at the tree in question. The ice that had surrounded the creature was gone, and its body had been ripped in half by a series of vectors¡ªboth feats accomplished during his moment of unconsciousness. ¡°You probably would¡¯ve been a goner if my bodyguards didn¡¯t take care of it.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± The man snapped his eyes between the liar and the dead tree. He blinked a few times and scratched his bump again before giving his cheek a pinch. ¡°I guess I must¡¯ve¡­¡± he mumbled. ¡°Thanks for helping me.¡±


    ¡°No problem,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°Are you okay? Does it still hurt anywhere?¡± Her face drew a little closer with each word; he had no such thing as personal space.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m fine, thanks.¡± A faint blush crept up onto the frog¡¯s face, turning it from green to blue. ¡°O-oh, that¡¯s right! You really need to get out of here! These parts of the wood ain¡¯t safe anymore with the firerot spreading through.¡±


    ¡°You mean that thing that¡¯s setting all the trents on fire?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, making them lose their minds too. It¡¯s only been two weeks since we first spotted it, but it won¡¯t be long before it spreads through the whole forest. I know your friends,¡± he glanced at the men sitting around the camp, ¡°are probably real strong, but it¡¯s best if you make a run for it before they start shutting down the roads. I¡¯d appreciate it if you could file a report and ask for help once you¡¯ve reached the nearest city though.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm, sure,¡± said Claire. ¡°What are we supposed to tell them?¡±


    ¡°Make sure they know that there¡¯s something wrong with the forest, and that all the villages ¡®round these parts are gonna get wiped out if nothing happens.¡±


    ¡°Oh no! How awful!¡± gasped the fair maiden.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine,¡± said the man, with a grin. ¡°We¡¯ll hold out one way or another, so long as you get to town as quick as you can.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll do our best!¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Now I¡¯d better be off,¡± said the man. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta fortify our village before it gets even worse.¡± He broke into a quick jog and started heading for the road.


    ¡°Stay safe!¡± shouted Claire, after him. She waved and smiled until he turned around, in spite of the goofy grin plastered across his face. It was only when he was gone, completely out of sight, that her face returned to its usual blank state. ¡°That¡¯s about as much useful information as we¡¯re getting out of him.¡±


    ¡°I suppose so,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Somehow, I¡¯m almost not surprised it turned out like that,¡± muttered Sylvia. Her exasperation, however, only lasted for a moment; it was quickly converted to hunger. ¡°What are we having for dinner anyway?¡±


    ¡°I cannot say, but I believe it should be of a fair quality at least. The menu was by Chloe¡¯s design.¡±


    ¡°Oh! That means there¡¯ll be dessert!¡± cheered the furball.


    Of course, it was not only Sylvia and Arciel that had watched the events unfold. Most of the others were too busy with their own activities, but Jules had watched the whole thing from start to finish. Taking deep breaths, as soon as he found Claire¡¯s eyes upon him, the clam closed his lid and shivered within his shell.


    There was only really one thing he learned from the experience¡ªhe likely shouldn¡¯t have been so quick to judge his brother for his fear of women.

 Chapter 333 - The Scheming God’s Apostle IV

    Chapter 333 - The Scheming God¡¯s Apostle IV


    109832 - 7 - 1 - 5


    Dear Diary,


    Today I killed a really strong bear with three eyes. It was really tough and it made my arms hurt a lot, but I managed to beat it up before it ate me. Master B says I¡¯m gonna ascend soon. I can¡¯t wait! I¡¯m gonna be just like Lina.


    Lia


    ___


    Claire crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes as she carefully examined her surroundings. She was standing in the phantom¡¯s living room, surrounded on all sides by his glowing rectangles. The various walls and objects were out of focus as usual, but the tingling sensation crawling up the back of her neck insisted that there was something amiss. She couldn¡¯t quite put her finger on what it was exactly, but she suspected that it had to do with the lack of a host; neither the spirit nor his body were anywhere to be seen; she was free to explore his house with her goosebumps and rising scales as the only dissuaders. She checked each room, closet, and even cabinet in turn, half expecting something to jump out at her from around every corner, but she found nothing, not even when she gave up and ventured into the world that lay beyond his walls.


    She was all alone.


    Not even Headhydra, who had recently become a common sight, was present to invade the space. The circumstances were so bizarre that it was like she had entered a different dream in its entirety. Either that or something had happened¡ªsomething so absurdly horrifying that it had driven a figment of her imagination into hiding. Whatever the case, she spread her wings and took to the skies. Keeping her eyes on the ground, she explored the distorted world around her. She flapped her wings at a leisurely pace, often approaching the ground again to take in the foreign sights.


    The blurry neighbourhood was just as eerie and deserted, consisting of nothing but a series of near-identical brick houses set up in an imperfect grid. A long, paved road extended to each, with its sides wrapped in carefully mowed lawns and perfectly trimmed gardens. If not for the houses¡¯ tiny sizes, she almost would have thought it to be a district for the nobility, but there were too many inconsistencies that stood against the claim.


    Many of the paved roads had strange-looking carriages parked outside them, but for some odd reason, none of the metal boxes had any places to attach their mounts. To make matters even more confusing, their shapes were all different. Some were boxier, while others were rounder and more compact even though it meant having less space to carry their goods. She considered the possibility that the district was one for wealthy merchants wherein smaller homes happened to be in fashion, but again, the thought was immediately denied. She couldn¡¯t possibly believe a man of the phantom¡¯s demeanour could have succeeded in the peddling of goods. He simply wasn¡¯t the type.


    Still pondering the question, Claire set her eyes on the fuzzy horizon and slowly ascended above the clouds, only for the sky to crack. The split was clear, unlike the distant horizon. It was almost like it was her vision itself that had been broken; she could see each distortion, each break and glassy splinter.


    Once, twice, thrice they formed. Until the world was suddenly shattered to pieces. The individual shards collapsed and fell, littering the darkness around her with distant reflections of everything she had failed to see.


    In the infinite mirrors, the scenery was finally clear, but she was not allowed to observe it. The broken sky was flooded with a blinding divine light before she could examine it in detail. The shards of glass were unceremoniously deleted, replaced with as many clouds as the eye could see.


    For the first time since her ascension, the goddess of the eternal flow appeared before her. Flux¡¯s features were the only specks of black that polluted the blue and white canvas, and not even they were entirely darkened. Distant nebulae shone within her pupils just as they spread throughout her hair. More than ever, Claire could see the details that made up her form. More than ever, Claire could feel her presence. And more than ever, she could feel her power, her strange, heterogenous power. It was still welcoming, as it had always been, but there was something about it that felt off, unnatural even, compared to all the other gods that she had faced. But it was precisely that which made it feel so familiar.


    ¡°Wake up,¡± she said. ¡°Wake up before you lose your path of escape.¡±


    And then, without another word, the goddess was gone.


    She was back in the tent when she next opened her eyes, with Sylvia in her arms and a certain maid¡¯s foot deforming the side of her face. Claire wrestled it away, but that wasn¡¯t quite enough to break free from the pile. Arciel¡¯s arms were keeping her tail in place. The squid had hugged the scaly limb to her chest and buried her face in its fluffy tip.


    The lyrkress had to wonder how she had gotten herself into the awkward position in the first place. There was a solid meter and a half between each of the bedrolls, and she was still in hers. Arciel was at least somewhat explicable given that their beds were neighbours, but Chloe had to travel two full body lengths in order to reach her. There was no logical reason for the maid¡¯s foot to have extended so far, nor any reason for her head to be stuck between her mistress¡¯ thighs. It wasn''t as if a wind storm had swept through the camp overnight. Lana and Sophia were still in their positions and everything else looked more or less intact.


    Untangling herself from the mess, Claire slipped out of the tent and set her sights on the sky. It was still dark out, but the stars were starting to fade as a faint hint of the sun worked its way above the horizon. It was a little earlier than the time of her usual awakening, but it was close enough that there was no point in going to sleep. One could argue that she ought to have taken over the guard¡¯s post, given that the lizardman had long fallen asleep, but she pretended not to notice. Lightly stepping out of the camp, she found a small clearing a few minutes away and set her fox down atop a bed of moss.


    She summoned Boris after making sure her pet was comfortable and began her morning practice. Though sleepy, the lizard carefully followed each of her instructions and took on a different shape every time she moved her arms.


    Over and over, she repeated the same movements and transformations¡ªa set of standard forms. Its Cadrian roots were clear and her father¡¯s influence was undeniable, but the style was her own and it was far more aggressive than any he had taught.


    In Cadria, traditional martial arts were focused largely on the flow of momentum¡ªshifting from one motion to the next and cutting out the fat that lay in between. Boris allowed her to refine those movements further. By changing his shape and his weight, she could easily manipulate the influence of gravity so it would never work against her. She didn¡¯t need to worry about the risk that came with her attacks. Even in the worst case, she could nullify her momentum outright and completely change directions. It was a handy trick, but she made a point to rely on it as little as possible. Hiding the ability was key to catching her opponents off guard; her first use of it on a given foe would always be among the most likely to succeed.


    The caldriess continued to train by her lonesome until she heard a set of footsteps approaching. Turning towards the sound, she saw a lizardman lumbering over from the campsite, only half awake.


    ¡°Is it just you, Miss Augustus?¡± he asked, with a yawn. ¡°Thought it might¡¯ve been a predator or something with the way the grass was rustling.¡±


    ¡°I was practicing,¡± she said.


    ¡°This early? The sun ain¡¯t even all the way up yet.¡±


    Claire paused for a moment. ¡°I always wake up early.¡±


    ¡°That makes one of us,¡± he said, with a yawn. ¡°Would rather sleep another few hours myself.¡±


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    ¡°Then why are you up?¡± Her eyes narrowed.


    ¡°Calm down, Miss. No need to get suspicious.¡± He lazily raised his hands. ¡°Just didn¡¯t have the best night is all. I ain¡¯t exactly a bedroll kinda guy, and the lack of space didn¡¯t do me too many wonders either.¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°We weren¡¯t expecting to take the clam when we picked out the tents.¡±


    ¡°Jules? I¡¯m still surprised you took him at all, with his attitude the way it is,¡± said Ace.


    ¡°Attitude is irrelevant.¡±


    ¡°Guess so.¡± Ace shifted his hand to his blade. ¡°Interested in a spar?¡±


    ¡°Not particularly.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± he asked, with a frown. ¡°Weren¡¯t you supposed to be one of the fighters? It¡¯d be good to see what you can do.¡±


    Claire nearly rolled her eyes. ¡°Are you stupid? You¡¯ll wake the whole camp.¡±


    ¡°Right. Good point.¡±


    ¡°And I know you know.¡±


    ¡°Know what? I¡¯m afraid I ain¡¯t too sure what you¡¯re talking about, Miss.¡±


    Claire raised her weapon. ¡°Keep playing dumb and I¡¯ll stab you.¡±


    ¡°Alright, alright, sheesh,¡± he said, as he backed off. ¡°Look, Miss, I was just trying to play it off, you know, in case you were still trying to hide it. You know what they say about women¡¯s secrets and all that?¡±


    ¡°It was never meant to be a secret.¡±


    ¡°Then why¡¯d you disguise yourself in the first place?¡±


    ¡°So all the candidates would fight their hardest.¡± She pulled her blade back and planted its tip in the ground. ¡°They¡¯d have been less inclined to pull out their trump cards if they didn¡¯t think they were going to die.¡±


    The man laughed. ¡°Has anyone ever told you that you¡¯re a bit mean-spirited?¡±


    ¡°I do get that from time to time,¡± she said, with her eyes on the fox.


    ¡°Yeah, I wonder why?¡± The man laughed as he turned around and lightly waved his hand. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ll get back to camp and get breakfast going. Doubt it¡¯ll be too long before the others wake.¡± He vanished into the underbrush soon after, leaving Claire to work on her forms.


    The second half of her training was focused less on refinement and more on experimentation. She haphazardly swung her weapons around, with Boris constantly transforming, multiplying, and changing sizes as she searched for the best follow-up to each of her preferred actions. Her knife-based attacks were in particular need of attention, so she focused on linking them for about half an hour before wrapping up and returning to camp.


    The sky had assumed a stable, blue colour and the champions had already risen from their beds. Matthias and Lana had already moved on to doing their drills, but the others were sitting near the campfire with bowls of stew held in their hands.


    Notably missing from the picture was the individual tasked with most of the chores, but that was hardly a surprise. Claire had no doubt that they would have to rouse the maid when it was time to hit the road.


    ¡°Sylvia.¡± In the meantime, the snake settled for jostling the creature in her arms. ¡°Wake up.¡± Claire grabbed two bowls of stew and sat down with her fox still in her lap. ¡°It¡¯s time for breakfast.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn? Breakfast?¡± The fox¡¯s ears twitched as she slowly opened her eyes. ¡°Is it fish?¡±


    ¡°Not today.¡±


    ¡°Awww¡­.¡± Though reluctant, the furball slowly got up and slinked her way over to her bowl.


    ¡°Less sulking. More eating.¡± Claire pinched the vixen¡¯s nose. ¡°Don¡¯t expect to eat lunch. We¡¯re going to be on the road all day.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Despite complaining, the fox practically evaporated her dish. She asked for seconds, thirds, and so on and so forth, eating a total of eleven bowls before finally deciding that she was sated.


    The rest of the morning went fairly smoothly. Arciel rallied the troops shortly after breakfast and announced that they would be continuing north. She didn¡¯t say anything about investigating the firerot, however. The queen decided to adopt a more passive approach¡ªthey would only make it their problem if it happened to get in their way or otherwise prove profitable.


    In practice, that meant only eliminating the local monsters whenever they approached the party. But even then, it was hardly worth the effort. The trees were incredibly weak; none of the individuals that attacked the party were even close to being ascended, and it wasn¡¯t like they ever caught anyone off guard. The few they encountered were all right by the highway. The walking trees never stumbled out of the forest or left any clear tracks that seemed to lead within it. The only offroad wagon trail they found after half a day¡¯s investigation was that of a merchant whose horses had bolted.


    The lack of clues and attacks left most of the northern brigade off guard. They were still more or less in formation¡ªthe melee fighters took the outer edges and the ranged attackers sat in the middle¡ªbut that was about the extent of their caution. Ace, Lana, and Matthias were telling myths and legends about powerful warriors, Sophia and Chloe were squabbling over whose master was better, and Krail and Jules were working on their spells. Despite his less-than-social personality, the clam was not without some level of respect for the elf¡¯s knowledge. He certainly did not hesitate to scream about the knife-ear¡¯s supposedly stupid mistakes, but he always had specific, actionable solutions and openly acknowledged when the other man¡¯s criticisms correctly addressed his faults. Their discussion was the most productive of the bunch and it stood out in especially stark contrast to the singing in which the final group was engaged.


    Though there were certainly a few lulls and awkward silences, the overall joyous mood lasted until the party came upon its first village. Its first ruined village.


    It should have been a quaint little settlement situated at the bottom of a valley, but there were no homes, no fields, no people still standing. Everything from the local churches to the town hall to the fence erected around the village¡¯s square had been burned to oblivion. A few of the trents¡¯ corpses lay outside the barrier, but the remaining monsters were alive, well, and still roaming the torched ruins.


    Jules rolled forward almost immediately and started channelling his magic, but the hand that attached itself to his shell drained his mana, interrupted his cast, and pulled him into cover.


    The accompanying dizzying sensation threw him off balance; his shell rocked around in the dirt as his innards spun round and round. Still, it only took a moment for him to steady himself.


    ¡°What the hell was that for!?¡± he shouted in a whisper.


    ¡°Wait,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Wh¡ª¡±


    ¡°Killing them now isn¡¯t going to change anything. They¡¯re more useful alive.¡±


    Though he continued to tremble, the man eventually closed the lid to his shell and took a deep breath. ¡°The fuck does that mean?¡±


    ¡°We might be able to follow them back to their nest. If they even have one.¡±


    ¡°Would be more surprised if they didn¡¯t,¡± said Ace. ¡°Most tameable monsters like these live in herds or groups to begin with, and this one looks like it¡¯s got somewhat of a hierarchy to it.¡± He pointed to a slightly larger trent with an extra pair of legs. ¡°Probably ascended, that one.¡±


    ¡°It is,¡± said Krail, with his eyes glowing. ¡°It¡¯s about level eighty, whereas most of the smaller individuals are between twenty and forty like most of the others we¡¯ve seen. I don¡¯t suppose we could pretend we never saw them? Tracking them down really doesn¡¯t sound like it¡¯s worth our time.¡±


    ¡°I would rather we assisted in eliminating them in the interest of aiding the locals,¡± said Arciel.


    Krail cocked a brow. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be a waste of time. All it¡¯ll take for Moros to fix this is a handful of knights. Vel¡¯khan is in much more of a perilous situation, and if I had to choose I must say I would rather choose my own peo¡ª¡±


    He wasn¡¯t allowed to finish. Jules grabbed him by the collar before he could and raised him into the air. ¡°You wanna shut the fuck up? Or do I gotta make you?¡±


    The elf raised a brow. ¡°And what, exactly, has you so angry, child?¡±


    ¡°Open your eyes and look around, shithead.¡± The clam gritted his teeth. ¡°Why the fuck aren¡¯t you mad?¡±


    ¡°We have higher priorities than chasing down a group of monsters worth no experience.¡±


    ¡°Heartless bastard!¡± Jules raised the elf further into the air. ¡°This is why you knife-eared heathens shou¡ª¡±


    ¡°I would prefer if you were to leave it at that.¡± Arciel placed her fan on his wrists and shot him a glare.


    Jules gritted his teeth, and after slowly glancing again at the queen, reluctantly released his grip.


    ¡°While I certainly do see your point, Krail,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I remain of the opinion that we should endeavour to help, having seen the extent of the damage that is done. With how cheery our last source of information was, I had been under the mistaken impression that the villages had a means of defence. Knowing that they do not, I can turn a blind eye no longer to the circumstances at hand. Should anyone else disagree, I ask that you voice your opinions now.¡±


    She swept her eyes over her forces.


    ¡°Excellent. Then let us begin by following their lead.¡±

 Chapter 334 - The Scheming God’s Apostle V

    Chapter 334 - The Scheming God¡¯s Apostle V


    The trents were slow to leave the village. They spent a solid three hours lumbering about its ruins before packing up and heading down the road. Despite Claire¡¯s prediction, the burning wagons refused to disperse. They lined up in single file and followed the only road.


    The brigade stalked the trees for nearly two hours before deviating from the beaten path. Cresting a hill, they turned into the forest and wheeled their way through the dense wood. It was so thick with greenery that the sentient vehicles had to meander around the natural barriers, moving back and forth and to and fro before finally stopping in front of a fallen log.


    For a moment, it looked like they had reached an impasse, but one by one, they climbed into the trunk, or more specifically, an otherwise inconspicuous hole hidden beneath a pile of moss. The pit looked no larger than something dug by a ferret or a squirrel, but the wagons had no trouble squeezing their way inside.


    It shouldn¡¯t have made any sense, but everything clicked the moment the phenomenon was observed. The hole was a door into another plane of existence¡ªa dungeon. Without any more data, it was impossible to say if the flaming trents were plain old dungeon monsters or if they carried a pestilence that mind-controlled the domestic variants, but in either case, their advent was one for which the locals were awfully unprepared.


    In all likelihood, the subspace was either freshly changed or freshly created. Established villages rarely fell under any other circumstances, as the inhabitants would have already adapted or long passed away.


    ¡°How curious. It is rather rare to find a dungeon in an area so devoid of mana,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Perhaps it would be best to report this location to the local authorities so that they may incorporate its management into their plans.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ so are we not gonna try raiding it?¡± asked Sylvia. Her voice grew quieter with each word, albeit not because of the volume at which she spoke.


    ¡°There is no purpose. The local authorities are unlikely to consider it a threat should we clear it out, and it would likely take a fair amount of time to explo¡ªClaire!?¡±


    The lyrkress was already gone by the time her name was called. Likewise, her hat had been spirited away without a moment of warning.


    Log Entry 850142


    You have entered the Den of Flames. The monsters that lurk within this dungeon pose no threat to your person.


    Claire frowned. It was her first time discovering a trial that the system summarily dismissed. She spun around and immediately prepared to leave the way she came, only to change her mind again as a shiver sparked through her ears. It was a familiar sensation. She had felt it when Arciel had first attacked her, when Durham actually did his job, and whenever she appeared in public.


    She was being watched. Scrutinized. Beheld.


    It wasn''t the trents. The trees hadn¡¯t noticed her in spite of her lack of concealment. Her observer, or perhaps observers, were much further away, but she was unable to pinpoint their locations by the time the sensation upped and vanished. She was, however, at least capable of taking in the artificial environment.


    The world was another whose owner she struggled to identify. Though made of browns and greens, it lacked the sandy soil and vibrant greenery that polluted its unfortunate exterior. But even with the forest gone, the scenery was just as sylvan. The ground, the walls, and the ceiling came together to form a singular wooden shaft with large patches of algae growing all over. The verdant sheets were almost as frequent as the lanky mushrooms that brought the dungeon its light. The fungi themselves were not too bright, but the rays produced by their bioluminescent gills bounced off the walls and enveloped the subspace in a gentle glow.


    For something that felt so much like the inside of a tree, the dungeon¡¯s cylindrical corridors were surprisingly wide. There were roughly ten meters between the two walls and a similar amount of distance between the floor and the ceiling. A clinging dampness filled the whole space. The air was awfully humid, and the water that dripped constantly from above formed a series of puddles and ponds throughout the musty halls. Some even had lilypads growing within them, with frogs and dragonflies and snails and fish. Though the miscellaneous creatures appeared to be scaled appropriately at first, Claire suspected that it was only because they had joined her in shrinking. The mushrooms were massive, the algae had long, hairy fibres, and the individual lines in the wood were thick enough that they couldn¡¯t be missed. Considering how large the individual droplets were, she may as well have been an insect within a hollowed tree.


    Venturing through the corridor confirmed the plant-like structure. The root in which she started soon opened into a wider tunnel which further led into a massive, vertical shaft. Branches extended from the walls, reaching inside of the trunk to provide places for the many monsters living within it.


    The flaming monkeys were the first to catch the lyrkress¡¯ eye. The dungeon¡¯s fuzzy primates differed from the non-monstrous counterparts not only in the fiery nature of their fur but also the flaps that connected their wrists to their hips. They served as gliders when opened and allowed the simians to maintain their height as they vaulted from branch to branch. The monkeys¡¯ number was second only to the slimes that floated throughout the space, though they were much more conspicuous given the other species¡¯ translucence. Living alongside them were oversized mosquitoes, burning sloths, and sooty raccoons, just to name a few.


    Claire killed one member of each species as she made her way up the tree. The only duplicates she slew were those unfortunate enough to come across her as she rapidly ascended its length. Upon reaching the top, she literally punched her way through the boss monster¡ªa large, pre-fried chicken¡ªand moved to the next floor. So on and so forth. The process repeated itself three-and-a-half times before she finally felt the eyes on her again.


    The gaze stopped her roughly two-thirds of the way up the tree, boring into the side of her head like a naked dagger. The beholder was no longer so far that she was unable to place it. Making no obvious movements with her eyes, she thrust her hand towards the source and reached beyond the branch that shielded it from view.


    ¡°What the!? Hey! What gives!? Let go of me!¡±


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    When she finally moved her eyes, she found an awfully angry raccoon trapped between her talons. The furry creature flailed, clawed, and screamed as it tried its best to break free, but despite its best efforts, the beast had no such luck. Like all the others she had found of its species, the trash panda did not truly possess a coat of black fur. Rather, its colouration stemmed from the ash strewn about its environment.


    ¡°Wait a second. Did that raccoon just talk?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°What the heck!? That¡¯s super creepy!¡±


    Blinking exactly three times, the lyrkress lowered her eyes from one furball to the other and narrowed them into an icy glare. ¡°Why were you watching me?¡±


    ¡°Tell you what, kiddo, I¡¯ll cut you a super good deal and tell you if you let me down and pay me off.¡± It was still struggling, but the creature¡¯s mouth started rattling off like that of an experienced salesman.


    ¡°I¡¯ll consider letting you down after you tell me.¡±


    ¡°Come on, that isn¡¯t much of a deal, is it?¡± said the furball. ¡°You¡¯re literally strangling me here. Cut me some slack.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you way more if you just let me down. Come on, think of all the benefits!¡±


    ¡°Just give up,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Claire doesn¡¯t really like listening.¡±


    The moose¡¯s talons tightened as if to prove her claim.


    ¡°Advance payment only huh? I¡¯m not really into that, but I guess I don¡¯t have much of a choice,¡± choked the ring-tailed squirrel. ¡°Look, I was just trying to warn you about a group of Cadrian assassins.¡±


    The lyrkress¡¯ amused face went cold. Tightening her grip on the rat, to make sure that it couldn¡¯t move a muscle, she lifted it to her face and stared into its eyes. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m an insider,¡± he choked. ¡°A secret agent. On your side.¡±


    ¡°I said who. Not what.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m nobody important,¡± he said.


    ¡°And why, exactly, would nobody important know about a group of Cadrian assassins.¡±


    ¡°Look I¡¯m telling the truth here,¡± he wheezed. ¡°I¡¯m just a nobody with a grudge against your father. The heartless bastard turned my whole family against me.¡±


    She stared at him for a solid three seconds. It sounded like a blatant lie. There was no reason for a dungeon monster she met in the Morosian wilderness to be in the circumstances he claimed. The chances were far too slim for it to be anything but a part of an elaborate scheme, a means of deception of some sort or other, but his eyes told a completely different story. They were calm as the words he had squeezed from his lungs and cold as a midwinter¡¯s day. It was not the fiery hatred born of a recent grudge that burned within them, but the undying smolders of a deep-seated hatred. There was almost something familiar about the curious demeanour, something that called to the darkness still seeded within her heart.


    Eventually, she released him. She returned him to his branch and allowed him to catch his breath.


    She had no intention of trusting him¡ª


    ¡°Tell me everything you know.¡±


    ¡ªbut at the very least, she would hear what he had to say.


    ¡°I would if I had the time, but you need to turn around. The assassins they sent are in the boss room up ahead,¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s another group attacking your companions. You¡¯ll need to regroup before they realize you¡¯ve caught o¡ªhey! Wait! That¡¯s the wrong way!¡±


    Claire started floating upwards as the man laid down his knowledge. He was still ranting about something or other, but she had long stopped caring.


    The timing was perfect.


    She was in need of experience-rich prey, and there were no better pickings than that which her father had so earnestly raised by hand.


    ___


    Krail was the first to notice that there was something amiss. Slowly raising his gaze from the boiling pot in front of him¡ªthey had decided to set up a camp and have lunch in light of Claire¡¯s absence¡ªhe looked towards the forest with both eyes alight. They were not green, as they would have been had he been evaluating an individual¡¯s strength, but a deep floral purple. When combined with the two bright rings that had formed within his pupils, the shift was a telltale sign of Hawkeye¡¯s activation. The ability was a keystone skill that most archery-based classes unlocked upon entering the three-digit range. Everything that the man saw was put through a filter. Enemies and allies alike were outlined in bright and vibrant colours so that they could be picked out and never mistaken, and enemy projectiles were likewise highlighted so they could easily be dodged.


    Though outwardly manifesting the same effects, the old elf¡¯s variant was not quite identical. Stemming from a rarer class, it took the concept a step further and allowed him to see through any obstacles in his path. The layers of visual clutter were quickly stripped away, leaving only the designated targets behind.


    Given the circumstances, the man had filtered for individuals over level one hundred. And surely enough, he saw them, even clearer than he had before. Their shapes and sizes varied, with some standing shorter than his knees and others three times his height, but their identical uniforms revealed that they belonged to the same organisation.


    For the most part, the outfit was grey. A layer of thin, bandage-like cloths ran the length of their bodies, covering everything from head to toe. It was only the eyes and other key organs that remained exposed. Of course, that was not all that they wore. There was another layer of ambiguous black garments on top. The robes were loose and the bottom halves were expressed as skirts to obscure the movement and number of legs possessed by any given individual.


    If their clothing was not evident enough of their potential hostility, then their movements clearly gave it away. They made a beeline for the camp, stopping only around the one-hundred-meter mark to fan out and encircle the base.


    ¡°It appears that we¡¯re under attack,¡± said the elf. Gripping his staff, he slowly pushed himself to his feet and pointed his weapon towards the forest. ¡°There are seventeen enemies inbound, and while I would have liked to say that there is nothing to concern ourselves with given the low-level area, our foes don¡¯t quite seem to be local. They¡¯re approaching from the north, and I believe their average level is in the level five to six-hundred range. Be on your guard.¡±


    ¡°Enemies?¡± Lana, who happened to be sitting right beside him, was the first to perk up. She took a moment to sniff at the air before moving her hand to her axe. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±


    ¡°Five to six-hundred? In Moros?¡± Matthias raised a scythe to his mandibles and cocked his head. ¡°That would have to mean they¡¯re our friends from the nor¡ª¡±


    A thousand-pound missile shot out of the forest and collided with him mid-sentence. The force of the impact alone was enough to kill a man outright; the four-meter tall ogress had been moving at such a speed that she was inaudible to anyone stuck in her path. It wasn¡¯t until half a second later that the sound caught up with its maker and completely blew the campsite away.


    ¡°Well, that was rude.¡± And yet, the mantis was fine. He stood exactly where he had before, with his scythe held up to block the dagger thrust towards his neck.


    Eyeing her knight¡¯s thoraen foe, Arciel covered her face with the usual object and heaved a sigh. ¡°How awfully timed.¡± She glanced briefly towards the dungeon¡¯s entrance before snapping her fan shut and pointing it at the man closing in on her side. The movement was followed by a surge of blades; three jagged spikes erupted from her shadow and ran the assassin through. ¡°Claire shall no doubt be furious when she learns of the meal she missed.¡±

 Chapter 335 - The Scheming God’s Apostle VI

    Chapter 335 - The Scheming God¡¯s Apostle VI


    Claire assumed her true form as she flew towards the boss room''s entrance. The discount panda had briefly tried chasing after her, but he gave up soon after he began the pursuit. It was impossible for him to keep up when she was a hundred times faster. Paying him no mind, Claire continued to fly through the dungeon. She didn¡¯t stop until she reached the boss chamber, where she took a moment to focus her mind on the world around her, taking in everything she could through her big, fluffy ears.


    It didn''t seem like the raccoon was lying about the assassins. She could hear several heartbeats coming from within the room, but she couldn''t quite determine how many there were. The only one she could clearly identify was the man standing right beside the entrance.


    Flexing her talons, she charged the wall. The boss room was the only stone construction in the otherwise wooden environment, but her jagged claws effortlessly tore it down and split the hidden centaur in half.


    For a non-Cadrian warrior, it would have been a fatal blow, but the man stitched himself back together, drew his centaur-sized daggers, and plunged them towards her wrist. His arms glowed red, his blades turned blue, white, and black as his bulging muscles inflated to thrice their previous size. It was a powerful attack, but her lizard shattered his chest before he could see it confirmed. The blunt object was swung with such force that it obliterated over half of his torso¡¯s mass. Everything above the stomach and below the neck was gone.


    The tip of his tail aside, the Boris was unmodified. There was a large ring where his body should have ended, the perfect grip for his mistress to wrap her own tail around.


    Claire brought her claws down on the centaur again and kicked him into a wall as she scanned the octagonal chamber, where she found four additional assassins and a dead wooden bull.


    By all means, they should have long jumped on the opportunity to take her head¡ªshe had left herself wide open during the first centaur¡¯s fall¡ªbut her bait was left unclaimed. Claire narrowed her eyes. Their lack of action went unexplained until she scrutinized their uniforms. Her spirits fell. They were not her father¡¯s minions, just inferior incompetents.


    Irritation bubbled through her mind, but fighting it back, she narrowed her eyes and looked them over. Two centaurs, one lamia, one thorae. All pathetically weak.


    It was only as the dust settled that they finally got to attacking. The half-human buck chucked a massive spear, the donkey started casting a spell, and the bug-ogre rushed her with his scimitar mid-draw. The lamia was right behind him, rapidly closing the distance with a blade as long as her body.


    All of their attacks were perfectly timed to land one after another. The best way to evade each blow was to step right into the next, but Claire was unconcerned. She slithered straight towards the incoming spear and spun her body out of the way. The thorae reached her next, but another Boris appeared between her teeth and warded off his blow. Her weapon met the lamia¡¯s after tracing its way across her friend¡¯s, but unlike his sword, hers failed to survive the encounter. The metal lizard opened his jaws, clamped them around the blade, and snapped it right in half.


    Only the mage¡¯s attack remained, but a vector displaced his wrists as he unleashed his spell. The lightning bolt flew into the lamia¡¯s back instead and zapped her through her silken armour. Blood leaked from her eyes as her body was burnt and broken, destroyed from the inside as the violent energy ripped through.


    Claire attacked her again before she could recover. Swiping up with her claws, she carved several marks deep into her flesh. Ice sprouted from the snake¡¯s wounds and crawled all over her body. She screamed as the magic took hold, fearful of its ultimate effect¡ªthe bloody explosion to which it built up¡ªbut the sweet release of death took her hand before the spell could run its course. It came in the form of a foot, a massive, hooved foot. Claire kicked her in the face whilst dashing towards their backliner, completely crushing her skull and splattering her brains all over the chamber¡¯s walls.


    Her target, the mage, threw up his hands and formed a barrier between them. It was a powerful shield made up of six different layers of lightning. Not even a highly refined metal could pierce through it unscathed. And yet, the snake-moose charged right past. It was simply a matter of compatibility¡ªbad luck on the caster¡¯s part. The lightning resistance she had acquired during her second ascension had persisted through to her third; his wall amounted to little beyond a faint, uncomfortable tingle.


    While she was unscathed, he was stuck screaming. Boris transformed into a saw and pushed his blade back and forth. Not flesh nor bone could resist him; he tore right through the mage and forced his body apart. His victim tried his best to regenerate, but with his master¡¯s powers, the lizard stole his health far faster than he could recover and condemned him to an early grave.


    It was a blatant taunt, a spice laced with the man¡¯s dying breath. A less disciplined party would no doubt have taken the bait, but the three remaining assassins took the chance to regroup instead. They kept their guards up and their weapons high as they inched their way towards the door.


    They sprinted after a moment¡¯s delay, but a frozen lattice prevented their escape. It covered more than just the frozen doorway. All four walls, the floor, and the ceiling were encased in Claire¡¯s icy web. The magic was not without a significant cost, but she gritted her teeth and endured.


    Transforming Boris into a scythe, she delivered a sweeping swing as they struggled against the unbreakable ice. The thorae threw up his guard. His sword held true even as the lizard¡¯s tip bore into its blade, but the same could not be said for his stance. Beaten in raw strength, he was thrown into the nearest pillar, where he made a massive crater befitting his four-meter frame.


    The centaurs were not quite as lucky. The warrior that had so foolishly gambled on throwing his spear was still without a weapon. His ally, the man with the massive arms, was likewise missing his daggers. Still, he stepped forward to catch the scythe by the shaft, only for it to become a greatsword the moment he locked in his position. The snath-turned-blade cleaved right through his flesh and split him in two. The spearman tried ducking the blow, but without the speed to follow through, he only shifted the impact from his chest to the base of his neck.


    Claire breathed a sigh as she watched the horse-men struggle to put themselves back together. She almost wanted to walk away without finishing them, if not for all the risks and wasted experience that such an action surely entailed.


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    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be Cadrian.¡± She spoke as she swung her claymore. ¡°Why are you so weak?¡± Another swing. And then a second and a third and a fourth.


    Their attackers were some of the most pathetic warriors she had ever seen. It was hardly a matter of perception. She was no longer comparing them to the elites that her father hand-raised nor the heroic gladiators that sought fame and glory, but the so-called knights under the western nobles¡¯ employ. The ragtag soldiers were already weak, often weaker than the adventurers and vagabonds that wandered the lands. There were even times when mere bandits would give them trouble. And yet, the supposed assassins were even weaker. They were so pathetic that she could have easily overwhelmed them two, maybe three-hundred levels ago. It was like someone had scraped the muck off the bottom of the barrel and ordered it in their direction. Teamwork was the only skill they had.


    She was so disappointed by the training dummies that she felt the urge, the need, to deny their existence. And with her blade, she did just that. Again and again, she swung the weapon. Until their health was reduced to zero.


    Only then did she step over their bodies and turn her blade on the last survivor.


    He was no better than the rest of his ragtag crew. The only reason he lived at all was because his weapon was of a higher grade. Whatever the case, an interrogation was in order. An average Cadrian spy would surely stay firm in the face of torture, but she suspected it wouldn¡¯t be long before she learned the name of the thorae¡¯s master.


    Claire was about to grab him when the space between them was rent apart. There was a sudden flood of raw energy, a burst of power that felt like it would char her flesh right off her frozen bones.


    Her shard screamed. The divinity bottled up within it swirled with all the violence of a raging storm, threatening to burst free in defiance of his power.


    It was exactly what she had felt when the cuttlefish had entered the shop, when the spider had tried to ambush her, and when the cat had spirited her away.


    The undeniable, suffocating presence of an almighty god.


    Unmaking the flesh of those she had slain, the deity borrowed their components to form itself a body. Its shape was loosely humanoid. Two long legs, a chiselled midsection, a pair of fluffy, muscular arms, and a fiery, golden mane. He was a two-legged lion whose ancient tattoos shone in a brilliant blood red¡ªthe man known to the world at large as the god of the hunt.


    Her hands shook.


    Kael''ahruus was one of the oldest gods. He had been accruing his divinity since the first sentients began consuming each other for power. He was one of the most powerful beings to have ever existed. And unlike most of the other gods whose presences she had graced, he was entirely hostile. He wasn''t even looking at her. And yet, she could feel his thirst, his hunger, his desire to grip her between his jaws and tear her to pieces. But even with bloodlust pouring from every fibre of his body, he kept his focus on the fallen ogre.


    ¡°How pitiful.¡± His voice was deep, but his words were poorly enunciated. They were strung together in a low, guttural groan that could have been easily mistaken for a growl. ¡°You overestimated your prowess and let your prey turn the tables.¡±


    The thoraen warrior slowly raised his head and revealed a set of clouded eyes. His consciousness was barely present. Being struck against the concrete had shaken his brain and stolen his ability to think. He wouldn¡¯t have had any trouble getting back on his feet had he been one of her father¡¯s elites. But he was not. The ordinary citizen could do none of the things that his countrymen so easily accomplished. It took everything he had just to keep his mind afloat.


    He parted his lips and worked his throat, but no words emerged from within it.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said the god. ¡°I would never abandon one of my own. I¡¯ll lend you my power. It¡¯ll be just a tiny piece. But it¡¯s enough for you to defeat your crippled quarry.¡±


    Again, the ogre opened his mouth, and again no sound emerged. But the god nodded nonetheless and raised his clawed paws.


    Claire did not simply stand around and wait for the man to fix her foe. She knew that the best choice was to run away.


    And yet, she found her body propelled towards the threat. She ordered her arms, her legs, and her wings to stop. But nothing listened. She couldn¡¯t prevent herself from springing forward at top speed and driving her lizard-turned-axe straight into the deity¡¯s flank.


    No blood was drawn.


    Boris¡¯ edge slid right off his pelt, leaving not even the slightest scratch in his otherwise perfect fur. Even the lion¡¯s gear was undamaged. The seemingly fragile linen shirt that adorned his upper body was every bit as unharmed as its wearer.


    He didn¡¯t even seem to notice. He only continued to speak to the half-dead ogre without paying even the slightest bit of attention to the violent assault.


    She regained control of her body once the attack was complete, only to strike another blow. Driving her feet through the dungeon¡¯s floor and securing her position, she spun her tail with her lizard turned into a thousand-pound blade. His abilities further bolstered the attack¡¯s output. Boris raised his mass to the absolute highest value he could whilst sharpening his razor into a paper-fine edge. But it slid right off the lion¡¯s body. Again.


    There was only one thing that changed. The god had gone from completely unbothered to moderately surprised. He raised a brow and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his lips slowly twisting into a smile as she drained his health, his magic, and even his divinity.


    He flicked his tail after a brief moment of contemplation. The fuzzy whip moved so quickly she could barely tell it touched her blade. It was just a glancing blow. But she was blown away.


    By the time she steadied herself and rose to her feet, the lion was already gone. In his place stood the warrior that she should have defeated, albeit with none of the wounds she had inflicted on his form. His muscles changed, condensing into a cluster that was not quite as thick but nearly twice as dense. His once lime-green skin had turned a darker shade and the black bands that had stretched across his bee-like abdomen appeared on his arms and legs as well. There were three on each wrist and three on each ankle, along with a tattoo shaped like a lion¡¯s face etched right into his chest. His eyes shone with a golden light¡ªthe very same glow that filled her own when her divine powers were drawn, just a thousand times as stable. His hair grew out; his standard military cut was replaced by a flowing mane dyed in a rich honey blonde.


    It was not quite an ascension, but his race had clearly changed, and so too did each of his numbers.


    When he dashed, it was at thrice the speed that she expected. And yet, his performance was still lacklustre. Matching his swing with one of her own, she knocked his weapon out of his hands and buried her blade in his flesh. He tried to fight back, but she crushed him beneath one of her talons and drained his health away.


    It should have been his end. He couldn¡¯t move and not even Pollux could outpace her theft.


    But then the god¡¯s presence returned, followed shortly by her victim¡¯s disappearance. She groaned as she looked around the room. Much to her chagrin, her foe was gone with no hint of a log to prove his demise.


    Claire bit her lower lip. She was so annoyed that she likely would have smashed the floor had she not spotted a peculiar detail. Her doorway-destroying shenanigans had covered the room in a layer of dust. And the fighters had all disturbed it. Clear prints marked all of the places where each had touched the ground.


    All of the places but one.


    The spot where the god had stood remained completely unmarked.

 Chapter 336 - The Scheming God’s Apostle VII

    Chapter 336 - The Scheming God¡¯s Apostle VII


    109832 - 8 - 2 - 1


    Dear Diary,


    I finally did it. Today, I wiped out an entire army of goblins and got my first ascension. I wasn¡¯t given the same choices as my sister, but I think that might be for the better. She¡¯s a genius, and I don¡¯t think it¡¯s possible for an average person like me to keep up. I¡¯ve always wanted to pretend it wasn¡¯t real. But now that I¡¯ve ascended, it¡¯s only become even clearer.


    It¡¯s winter now, but I¡¯m feeling pretty good in spite of the cold. Knowing her strength only makes me prouder to be her sister. I¡¯m still going to do my best. But I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be following in her footsteps exactly.


    Lia


    ___


    Backing out of the dungeon and climbing through the entrance, Claire found herself greeted by a temporary base camp. Both tents had been set up, the surrounding trees had been cleared out, and they had even crafted several rings where the brigade¡¯s members could practice and spar. That much was normal, just like the campfire and the afternoon snack roasting atop it.


    Their decorations, however, were in dire need of reconsideration. Neither the strewn-up entrails nor the mangled corpses were particularly appealing, and Claire wanted nothing more than to rebuke the idiot casually enjoying a cup of tea amidst the carnage. Such accusations, however, were sure to fall on deaf ears. To the witch in question, the bloodstained battleground was hardly any different than an amusement park made of cookies and cream. It was precisely because she mixed the secret agents¡¯ lives into her cup that she enjoyed it as much as she did. And if the nearby corpses were any indication, she had even gone as far as blending lamian and centaurian ingredients to create a specific flavour. Apparently, it was a pleasant combination. Both bloodsuckers appeared to enjoy it.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Claire,¡± said the tentacled vampire. ¡°Did you happen to enjoy your excursion?¡± Though certainly the only one in a great mood, the queen was not the only one hovering around the campfire. Lana and Matthias were helping Chloe clean up, while Ace and the clam found seats nearby. Krail and Sophia were a little further away, with the former sitting under a tree and the latter in one of the tents. By the sounds of it, she wasn¡¯t alone, and the captive they had taken was not enjoying her presence.


    ¡°Not particularly.¡±


    There was a brief pause as they exchanged glances, with the squid raising her cup to her lips and the caldriess blank as ever.


    ¡°Are you not surprised?¡± Arciel eventually broke the silence and lightly kicked one of the bodies sitting beside her.


    ¡°Not particularly,¡± repeated the lyrkress.


    ¡°There were a bunch of them waiting for us inside,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But Claire kicked their butts.¡±


    ¡°That would certainly explain the delay, given the dungeon¡¯s¡­ inadequacy,¡± said Arciel, with a frown. ¡°Would you like to unwind with some tea?¡±


    ¡°Yes please!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± said Claire. ¡°But Boris does.¡±


    The lizard nodded energetically. The spider on his head¡ªwho had in fact tagged along throughout the dungeon¡¯s traversal¡ªalso weaved a web to secure a serving.


    ¡°And what of our guest?¡± asked the squid, as she looked at the group¡¯s final member.


    ¡°Oh uh, me? I ain¡¯t one to pass on a free meal.¡± The raccoon¡¯s presence drove Claire to furrow her brow. She had no idea where he had come from. She was sure that only Sylvia had accompanied her outside of the dungeon, but there he was, front and center.


    ¡°Chloe, if you would,¡± said the queen.


    ¡°Just a minute,¡± said the maid.


    The squid turned back to the ring-tailed rat and raised the usual fan to its usual position. ¡°I am Arciel Vel¡¯khan, queen of Griselda¡¯s chosen lands and chief priestess to the goddess of the moon. Who might you be?¡±


    ¡°My name is Panda. I¡¯m a firewood raccoon. I¡¯m technically Cadrian, but let¡¯s just say my friends and I have got a bit of a vested interest in your victory.¡± He crossed his arms and tapped his foot. ¡°Actually, that isn¡¯t exactly right. It¡¯s more like we want to see Cadria lose.¡±


    ¡°That is a rather interesting proclamation.¡± Arciel looked up at Claire.


    ¡°Half of what he just said was a lie, including his name,¡± she said. ¡°But his hate seems genuine, at least.¡±


    ¡°Well I don¡¯t exactly want you to know my real name, and Panda was the first thing I could think of,¡± said the trash panda, without missing a beat. ¡°Anyway, we¡¯ve got a lot to offer. Y¡¯see, we happen to have a reliable way of tapping into their information network. We can basically read all of their communications, sometimes even before it gets to the people it¡¯s meant for. Do good enough work, and it¡¯ll be yours at no cost.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t believe you for a second. The secret service is hardly that incompetent.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well they aren¡¯t exactly the best at what they do either. Let¡¯s just say we¡¯ve got some major leeway on our side, yeah? I doubt they even know we¡¯re listening.¡±


    It was difficult for her to believe that her father¡¯s information network was riddled with bugs. She knew the harsh training the members went through; each of their agents was level eight hundred at least. They were skilled enough to track individual grains of sand back to the rocks that had shed them. And yet, the self-proclaimed panda remained supremely confident.


    ¡°Looks like you don¡¯t trust me,¡± he said, with a smirk. ¡°Alright, tell you what. Ask me literally anything about Cadria and I¡¯ll tell you everything there is to know.¡±


    Claire paused for a moment to recall the topics her father discussed during his time in the west. It had been a month since the policies were ironed out, but they would only be made public when it was time for the tax collectors to make their annual trips. ¡°How will the Decimus march¡¯s taxes change this year?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s an easy one,¡± said Panda. ¡°The crown has allowed the marquis to lower taxes on alfalfa from thirty to twenty percent. Luxury goods will remain the same, while other commonly produced items will see a five percent cut. The marquis has already sent word to all his local governors and ordered them to increase the yield o¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± said Claire, as she fought back a yawn. ¡°Next, explain the circumstances surrounding Pollux¡¯s disappearance.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d know them better than me, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± said the raccoon, with a knowing, evil grin. ¡°With you being who you are?¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes.


    ¡°And who, exactly, do you think I am?¡±


    ¡°Claire Augustus, my archenemy¡¯s estranged daughter and Cadria¡¯s first princess. It¡¯s worth mentioning that most people think you¡¯re continuing to live your old life as a mute, but your father¡¯s long had you replaced by a puppet. For the record, we didn¡¯t figure that out ourselves until a few weeks ago, after we determined that you were responsible for Tornatus¡¯ destruction.¡±


    The lyrkress narrowed her eyes. They were facts that only her father should have known. It was impossible for him to have confided it in anyone else. He was the only one still in the castle that knew of Rubia¡¯s nature.


    ¡°That the truth, Miss? You really their princess?¡± asked Ace, who had been silently listening in. He leaned forward, creased his brow, and propped up his chin with the back of his hands. ¡°Then how do we know you ain¡¯t on their side?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s fine,¡± said Matthias. ¡°She¡¯s been with us since before the revolution. If she wanted to pull something, she would¡¯ve done it way back.¡±


    ¡°Might¡¯ve been working on something longer term. Y¡¯never know with these things,¡± said Ace. ¡°Hell, the whole damn war could be something she orchestrated.¡±


    ¡°It is my fault,¡± said Claire, nonchalantly. ¡°But it wasn¡¯t intentional.¡±


    Ace cocked a brow. ¡°Now hold the fuck on. What do you mean, it¡¯s your fault?¡±


    ¡°It means what I said,¡± said Claire. ¡°This war only happened because I killed Pollux.¡±


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    The open admission was met with a moment of silence. Most of the members seemed content to sit around and process the claim, but Lana opted for a different approach. The tiny canine pirate dropped the corpse she was carrying and sauntered over with her face a visible scowl.


    ¡°This is your fault?¡± she asked, in her usual quiet voice. ¡°All of it?¡±


    Claire nodded, which only prompted the wolfgirl to clench her fists. She took a few deep breaths and turned around. For a moment, it seemed like she was happy to walk away, but she soon spun back around with her veins bulging and her usual calm demeanour completely missing in action. She even lashed out, throwing a punch that surely would have landed on the lyrkress¡¯ jaw had she not ducked out of the way.


    ¡°Get the fuck back here and let me hit you!¡± shouted the pirate.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a request! It was a fucking order, you stuck-up, carpet-munching cunt! Why the fuck are you asking us for help if the whole goddamn thing is your fault!? How about you get your scrawny ass out of your stupid cum barrel and fix your goddamn fucking daddy issues instead of starting a war, you goddamn shit-for-brains twat waffle!¡±


    Much like the lyrkress¡¯ revelation, the pirate¡¯s outburst was followed by a moment of silence. The chain of insults that had left Lana¡¯s mouth very well could have easily contained more words than she had said the previous day.


    Even more alarming was the sense of normalcy. Lana didn¡¯t blush or suddenly switch tones. She only continued to swing her fists and scream at the top of her lungs.


    ¡°Get the fuck back here! I¡¯m going to rip out your fucking spine and shove it so far up your fucking ass it comes out your fucking eyes!¡±


    ¡°Is it just me, or does she kinda remind you of someone?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°I cannot recall any others with such,¡± the queen paused, ¡°colourful vocabulary,¡±


    ¡°Mmmnn¡­ really? Oh well, it¡¯s probably not important,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°You sure this whole thing ain¡¯t some sort of convoluted bullshit?¡± whispered Ace. ¡°If she¡¯s the reason this whole damn thing started, then we can just ship her off, can¡¯t we? Doubt there¡¯s any need to fight a war over it.¡±


    ¡°There are a number of other reasons that she has neglected to explain,¡± said Arciel. ¡°The Cadrains were never quite as compliant as they may have appeared. We have reason to believe that our nation was within their sights regardless.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re absolutely sure that Miss Augustus over there ain¡¯t a part of their schemes? If she¡¯s the princess, then she¡¯s literally enemy royalty, ain¡¯t she?¡±


    ¡°Claire has my utmost confidence,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°If you say so,¡± said the lizard, with an unconvinced frown.


    ¡°Hold the fuck on, why¡¯s that the problem?¡± asked Jules, as he flapped his shell. ¡°You guys believe that she¡¯s a princess!? There¡¯s no fucking way! If she¡¯s a princess, then I¡¯m a fucking god!¡±


    The lizardman stroked his chin. ¡°Well, I mean she¡¯s got the looks, don¡¯t she? Doesn¡¯t seem like much of a stretch to think she¡¯s some noble¡¯s daughter or other.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s more of a brute than me.¡±


    ¡°It makes a lot of sense if you just think of her as the princess of the barbarians,¡± said Chloe. ¡°Since that¡¯s really just what Cadrians are.¡±


    The clam hummed, hawed, and scratched his chin. ¡°Yeah, fair enough I guess.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a barbarian,¡± said Claire. Freezing Lana in place, she suddenly appeared behind the maid and gave the back of her head a light chop.


    ¡°I might¡¯ve believed you if you weren¡¯t so violent,¡± complained Chloe, as she rubbed the fresh sore spot.


    ¡°Wait, now that you mention it,¡± said Ace. ¡°If she¡¯s a royal, then why¡¯s her last name Augustus? Shouldn¡¯t it be Cadria? The place is a kingdom, ain¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°I can answer that,¡± said Panda. ¡°The crown is passed down through blood, but that isn¡¯t the only way it can change hands. Anyone that thinks they¡¯re strong enough can challenge the king to a public duel and try to take his place.¡±


    ¡°You see what I mean? Barbarians,¡± said Chloe, who was immediately met with another chop.


    ¡°That sounds like a dogshit system,¡± said Jules.


    ¡°Well that¡¯s ¡®cause it is,¡± agreed the raccoon.


    There was a span in Cadria¡¯s history where the crown changed hands several times each month. The warring tribes period, as it was documented, only came to an end when Ferdinand Augustus seized the throne and unified the nation under his rule. The man in question was not always an advocate of peace; in his earlier years, he too sought conquest and bloodshed like all the others that had come before him. It was only his raw strength that distinguished him from the other monarchs. He had passed his thousandth level by the time he claimed the throne and he only grew as he conquered the surrounding lands.


    But with the rules as they were, his strength was all he needed. He held an iron grip over the crown and defeated all the challengers that dared to consider its theft. His attitude did eventually change, however. The young buck matured into a wise bull with a good enough understanding of people and politics to overcome the weaknesses otherwise inherent to the Cadrian system.


    ¡°I would hardly say it is much better to pass the crown through a bloodline,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Though it is certainly best for a monarch to be educated in the necessary ways, there exists no guarantee that a particular individual shall bear the qualities required.¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°Some queens spend too much time gossiping with their friends to get any work done.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, but surely that proves itself a more responsible choice than simply running away?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes, running away gets more of your work done than not.¡±


    ¡°I believe that only to be the case if there are others to foist the work upon,¡± said the squid, with a reproachful stare. ¡°Perhaps I would have known the circumstance had you not refused.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Claire smiled innocently before turning to the raccoon. ¡°So? Who sent them?¡±


    Ciel frowned at the obvious attempt to change the topic, but said nothing more.


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty much what you think,¡± said Panda. ¡°They¡¯re some of Ephesus¡¯ disposables. He¡¯s erased most of their personal histories, so there was only really so much we could learn, but they¡¯re petty criminals or hunters down on their luck, for the most part. I could probably get you a bit more if I got my boys to take a closer look, but you¡¯ll have to make it worth my time.¡±


    ¡°They were real Cadrians?¡± scoffed Jules. ¡°If this is what we¡¯re up against then we don¡¯t gotta worry for shit. I bet I could take three of the bastards at once, even if they¡¯re nearing a thousand.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get too carried away now. They were basically over-leveled civilians with a bit of basic training,¡± said Panda. ¡°You¡¯d probably lose to anything in your range.¡±


    ¡°The fuck is that supposed to mean?¡± The clam flipped his lid.


    ¡°Exactly what you think.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re getting distracted again,¡± said Claire. ¡°Focus.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Ignoring the fuming bivalve, the trash panda scratched the side of his head. ¡°As I was trying to say earlier, the marquis has his eyes on you. The first few, as you¡¯d expect, are really just there to evaluate your strength, you know, double check his books so he can crunch his numbers. From what I hear, he¡¯s already got a real squad heading over as we speak, and I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯ll reach you by the end of the week.¡± It was already the sixth day. There were only another four before the aforementioned deadline. ¡°The good news is that it¡¯s only got two people in it. The bad news is that they¡¯re only slightly below average. Chances are, they¡¯ll wipe you out.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see about that,¡± said Claire. ¡°What do you know about the lion?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± said Panda. ¡°We¡¯ll look into it, but the only guess I¡¯ve got was that he happened to like the guy you were about to kill.¡±


    ¡°What is this about a lion?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°Nothing important,¡± said Claire. She flexed her claws. ¡°Just a little personal business.¡±


    ___


    The man known as Lucius Hyacinth pressed a hand into his side as he stumbled through the forest. He hadn¡¯t the slightest clue where he was. He was unfamiliar with the Morosian woods and he had only happened to find himself delivered to them by way of flying horse. He had no clue what dangers lurked beyond the trees, but he continued to wander nonetheless, driven by the fear that his last conflict had inspired.


    He could still see her cold, blue eyes boring right through his body. He didn¡¯t know exactly who she was. As a new recruit with only a few months of training, he didn¡¯t have the clearance for any such knowledge. But he had known that he was supposed to kill her. And that he was completely outclassed.


    His survival was nothing short of a miracle, a literal work of God. Two of them, in fact.


    The deity he had spent his life revering was one that had earned him much mockery. While the other children in his village dedicated themselves to the goddess of war, he saw no merit in seeking her blessing. He was a huntsman''s son, and the country had been at peace since well before his birth. It was only natural then for him to gravitate towards the god that lorded over his livelihood.


    He never neglected his basic martial training, given that it was part of his compulsory education, but he spent only the bare minimum effort and poured the rest of his time into refining his skill with the bow. He was weaker than the other kids as a result, and often picked last for the games they played. But when it finally came time for war, it was only he who was offered a seat among the marquis¡¯ retainers. It was an ironic twist, but the tracking skills that his hunter class provided allowed him to stand out in a way that his peers did not.


    The resulting post was unwanted, but the bee-ogre did his best nonetheless. Even though his combat skills were subpar, he racked up his accomplishments and quickly ascended the ranks. Before long, he was appointed as a tracker in a secret unit responsible for much of the marquis¡¯ dirty work.


    His master''s agents were not considered particularly elite, in fact, House Ephesus'' secret service was often regarded as one of the worst in the kingdom. Still, he held his head up and did his work with pride. It was a post that a lowly huntsman should have never dreamed of grasping.


    Knowing it to be his lord¡¯s grace that allotted him such a life of leisure, the hunter¡¯s faith in Kaelahruus stood firm. Lo and behold, it proved the only reason for his survival. The god he so dearly worshiped had stepped in on his behalf and ensured that his life would continue.


    And it was precisely his belief in said god that allowed him to overcome his fear. He could feel the holy lion¡¯s voice echoing through his head, calming him, teaching him, protecting him. It told him not to lament his failure or curse his weakness, but to look forward and seize the power that he had been bestowed. There were a few things that he needed to do before he encountered his quarry again. Some of them were outright damning, but the thorae was not afraid.


    His god was by his side.


    And together, they would destroy the infidel before she was enlightened again.

 Chapter 337 - Debts and Dues

    Chapter 337 - Debts and Dues


    Alfred Llarsse groaned as the puppet in his realm slowly came to life. It pushed itself off the ground and righted its spine with a series of disturbing snaps. A divine entity entered the doll after the process was complete, subsequently warping its face to match her own. It had been a year since they forged their alliance, but Flux was ever cautious. She refused to descend into his realm without a medium or means of escape.


    Alfred could not fault the choice. He would not have hesitated to turn on her if given the chance, and though he had lost during their last encounter, he had prepared several contingencies that would ensure his victory the next time they fought. But even so, his criticism was unchanged. The goddess of the flow was far too cowardly. She was a full-fledged deity with an abhorrent amount of divinity and he was a confined celestial with no means of bolstering his following; he would have liked it if she were to give him more of a fighting chance.


    ¡°What is it this time?¡± he asked, as clothes formed around the puppet.


    Normally, the goddess would have bitched and moaned in light of his disrespect, but the occasion was special enough that she couldn¡¯t be bothered. ¡°Kael¡¯ahruus has already made his move.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine why you¡¯re even the slightest bit surprised.¡± Alfred raised his pipe to his lips and ordered his wand to light it. Though mildly annoyed, the weapon¡ªthe mechanical spider leg in the shape of a magical stick¡ªfloated down from its shelf and reluctantly complied. ¡°Did you really think he was going to miss it? She slammed the planet out of orbit.¡±


    ¡°I knew that he would notice,¡± said Flux, ¡°but, even with his brain as dysfunctional as it is, I did not think he would miss all of the signs and warnings.¡±


    Alfred laughed. ¡°There is a reason we don¡¯t call him the god of wisdom.¡±


    ¡°But neither is he the god of fools,¡± said Flux. ¡°I suspect that there is something we missed. He may have stored more power than we had originally computed.¡±


    ¡°Bah, more power, less power. It¡¯s all the same,¡± said the ancient human. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if he calls himself a hunter or dresses himself in fangs. A mindless beast is still a mindless beast. You¡¯re worrying for nothing.¡±


    Of course, the man believed otherwise, and he doubted that the goddess would take his words at face value. Their goals may have aligned, but trust was hardly in the cards.


    ¡°Stop with the games,¡± she said, in a commanding voice. ¡°This isn¡¯t the time.¡±


    Alfred raised a brow. He was a bit reluctant to follow her orders, but he eventually yielded to the combination of the pressure and her unusual behaviour. He flipped open his console, scrolled through the logs, and checked his many filters, but he remained oblivious to the source of the goddess¡¯ hysteria.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see anything out of the ordinary.¡± When he looked up, he found a pair of dubious eyes.


    ¡°Are you stupid? Why would you check the logs? He¡¯s obviously had them sanitized.¡±


    ¡°What else was I meant to check?¡±


    ¡°You were meant to follow.¡±


    Flux snapped her fingers, and after a moment of delay, ripped open the space between the celestial¡¯s jail and a certain rock¡¯s domain. Alfred frowned. Had he only another hundred bottles of ether prepared, he would have been happy to march through the door and challenge the goddess of order. Alas, he was not quite that far along.


    That, of course, was not the only wrench in his plans. Far more apparent was the cat¡¯s presence. She was already there, sitting on a throne floating in space with her arms crossed and her lips an unhappy frown. There would have been no way for him to catch her off guard, even if everything was ready to go.


    ¡°You better have a good explanation for this,¡± said the most beautiful creature in the world. Her eyes were cold; it was like she was threatening to slay them all right on the spot.


    Dozens of servants stood in file behind her, ready to engage if needed. Zercesse, celestial lord of kept time; Woodrow, demigod of historical records, and Altea, goddess of half-truths were only three of the sixty-seven divine entities that had answered Flitzegarde¡¯s call.


    ¡°I was hoping that you would take part in the discussion. I would have called for you if this did not suffice,¡± said Flux.


    Flitzegarde focused her golden eyes on the qilin¡¯s own swirling depths. The glare felt like it lasted for an eternity, but eventually, she lowered her gaze and meowed.


    ¡°Explain quickly. I have business to take care of,¡± said the cat.


    Nodding, Flux stepped through the portal with Alfred in tow and took a seat in front of a table that had suddenly manifested. The human and the cat immediately did the same, with the floating space rock itself joining soon thereafter. Flitzegarde¡¯s retinue remained by her side until she dismissed them with a nod, sending each back to their various duties.


    Flux snapped her fingers once the last of them disappeared and conjured a recording. It looked like nothing out of the ordinary, in and of itself. It was that of a man wandering through the forest. But looking through the man¡¯s mind, and hearing the voice that the lion¡¯s divinity had intentionally concealed, drove two of the three unknowing observers to press their faces into their hands.


    There was going to be a war.


    And his first target was none other than the goddess thereof.


    ___


    The Vel¡¯khanese party crossed the border from Moros to Sunakprathese without any further trouble. Though nearly twice the lunar nation¡¯s total size, the frog-run kingdom took far less time to traverse. A part of it was because the roads were so well maintained. The Morosians had invested much into infrastructure to compensate for the short lives that their people experienced; there were hardly any blockers that got in the way of the people who wished to go from place to place.


    Sunakprathese, on the other hand, was much less friendly to travellers. Most of the roads were effectively downtrodden animal trails with no paving or effort invested into their construction. The soil was still a little sandy, but the forests were much denser than they were in Vel¡¯khagan, and though the land still bordered the ocean, it was also much drier. They had spent half a day travelling through the country, during which they had encountered exactly zero sources of fresh water.


    Before parting from the group and noting his eventual return, Panda had warned them not to expect any hospitality from the locals. Surely enough, the first village they crossed had proven his claim to be true. The inhabitants panicked when the group drew near and refused any attempts at entry and negotiation. The two smaller towns that they encountered exhibited much the same reaction. Claire¡¯s ability to conjure ice meant that the group was never really out of potable supplies, but it required time and heat to take a form that could be easily consumed, neither of which the party had been willing to spend.


    Fortunately, the major cities were slightly less hostile. The people were still wary of outsiders, but the guards eventually let them through following a lengthy interrogation. The locals perked up when they drew near and quickly scuttled out of their way. The behaviour was still bizarre. None of the other foreigners were given any such treatment. They were allowed to walk around the town without any of the terrified looks cast upon the group and its members.


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    It was an attitude that persisted throughout their stay. They were shooed away twice before they managed to procure the supplies they needed and even the cheapest inn¡¯s keeper balked when they walked through the door.


    ¡°H-Hello.¡± She forced a smile and shrank behind her desk. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but we¡¯re full for the night.¡±


    Similar rejections continued throughout the evening. The inns clearly had space; most of the accompanying stables were empty and few of the rooms had anyone in them. And yet, the party was denied wherever they went.


    ¡°I did not think that we would find ourselves rejected at every turn,¡± said Arciel. They were standing right outside of a luxury hotel. It was their last resort; the most expensive option was selected only after the cheaper alternatives were exhausted. And even then, they were turned away.


    ¡°What did I tell you?¡± said Panda. ¡°This place isn¡¯t exactly the friendliest. They¡¯re so dense they don¡¯t even want to talk business.¡± Again, Claire narrowed her eyes at his sudden appearance. She hadn¡¯t the slightest clue as to where he had come from, and being on guard, she had been listening carefully for any footsteps that might have approached.


    ¡°Yeah, but this is just weird,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°They¡¯re basically avoiding us.¡±


    Even more confusing than his inexplicable advent was the lack of surprise that came with his presence. Arciel had certainly eyed him curiously, but no one else seemed to be bothered by the way he had simply appeared.


    ¡°Sunaks are sensitive to mana,¡± said the raccoon. ¡°And with this many mages, we basically have enough of it to completely crush their spirits.¡±


    ¡°I had hoped for the opportunity to bathe,¡± said Ciel, ¡°but no matter, I suppose. Let us find an empty lot and make camp.¡±


    Panda looked towards the city¡¯s outer walls and raised a hand to the side of his head. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s the best idea. It sounds like Ephesus¡¯ men are moving faster than expected. My boys lost their exact positions too, so we¡¯ve no idea how long it is until they reach us. Might be tonight, might be tomorrow. Either way, we¡¯ll probably want to get out of the city.¡±


    ¡°So that we may avoid involving the sunaks and the prathesians? I suppose it would not help our image if we were to damage their city.¡±


    ¡°I was thinking more along the lines of the city having too much cover,¡± said Panda. ¡°It isn¡¯t worth it. You¡¯re only cutting yourselves a raw deal by holding up here.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯d be better if we stayed,¡± said Claire. ¡°We can study the terrain and use it to our advantage.¡±


    ¡°Man, fuck you and your petty ass bullshit,¡± said Jules. ¡°You¡¯re really about to involve all these innocent people for a minor advantage? Are you fucking insane? How the fuck does the terrain even matter? It¡¯ll be gone the moment a fight breaks out!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be up against Cadrian elites. We don¡¯t have the luxury to think about civilians.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re leaving. That¡¯s final,¡± snarled the clam.


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t come running to me when you die.¡±


    ¡°If anyone¡¯s dying, it¡¯s you,¡± he fired back.


    ¡°They¡¯ll have killed you ten times over before they get past my scales.¡± Flapping her wings, the humanoid caldriess slowly rose above the buildings and faced the northern gate. ¡°I¡¯ll scout ahead.¡±


    The rest of the evening went about as expected. Claire found a cave half a dozen kilometers north of the city and guided the rest of the brigade towards it. Perhaps because it wasn¡¯t too far from the road, the site was one that they wound up sharing. There were two other groups in the open space. One was a squad of adventurers with a huskar, a dwarf, and two harpies, while the other was a party of merchants. The traders were all of the same species, albeit one that Claire had never seen before. They loosely resembled muskrats; their bodies were short and ovular, and they each had four stubby limbs. Their mammalian features ended there, however, as every member sported a set of sparkling butterfly wings growing out of their ankles. But strange as they were, they went largely ignored; each of the three parties occupied a different part of the cave and kept mainly to themselves.


    Once settled in, Claire¡¯s group sat by the fire, ate a hearty meal, and chatted idly with their associates and neighbours. With combat possible at a moment¡¯s notice, not even the usual warmongers were interested in any exhausting training. Like Claire, who fiddled with her mana, they went about their evening routines and headed straight to bed. Panda, who had disappeared instead, was the only exception. Claire tried asking around, but no one seemed to know where the suspicious rat had gone, or even when he had vanished.


    The caldriess wasn¡¯t particularly tired even after investigating the ring-tailed rat, but she fell asleep almost as soon as she touched her bedroll. Of course, that was not to say that morning immediately came. Her mind did the usual and plopped itself into the void.


    Claire took a moment to contemplate her choices. Rubia was likely still awake and studying something, which made visiting her an appealing option. The two could enjoy the evening together, as they so often did whenever the lyrkress found herself in a lazier mood. But at the same time, she wanted to visit the ghost in hopes of freely exploring his world again.


    There was also always the option of experiencing a more standard dream and indulging herself in some delusion or other. It seemed like it would make for a relaxing time, a delightful way to blow off the stress accumulated over the course of the journey.


    Her eyes snapped open in the midst of her deliberation. Slowly sitting up, not even thirty minutes after she first fell asleep, she raised a hand to her head, only to find her fingers see-through. Confused, she narrowed her eyes and looked down at her body. If it could really be considered her body at all.


    Her everything was translucent.


    Her flesh was still exactly where she had left it. She was hugging Sylvia tightly to her chest as Arciel did the same with the tip of her tail. It wasn¡¯t as if she had lost control¡ªordering her body to twitch, she managed to lightly thwack the squid¡¯s cheek and startle her awake¡ªbut at the same time, she could also manipulate the glob in which her consciousness remained.


    It was the same behaviour that the phantom exhibited, as well as the same phenomenon that occurred each time a god spirited her up to their realm. She nearly thought that was exactly what had happened, but she sensed no divine presence; there was no pressure powerful enough to snap her soul in half.


    Strangely enough, she soon found her abilities all perfectly intact. In fact, they were better off than they were in her flesh. It no longer hurt to cycle her divinity; she didn¡¯t have to keep it locked in her chest just to minimize the pain. And it wasn¡¯t as if she was simply hallucinating. She pulled up her blankets with her vectors and even felt the fabric¡¯s fluff.


    The lyrkress spun around and headed for the tent¡¯s entrance, only to bash her head into its central support. She barely felt any pain, but the shock drove her to recoil. Blinking curiously, she stumbled a few steps back and fell onto her rear, with her hands touching the place where she had hit her head. She wasn¡¯t without form. She still interacted normally with everything in her vicinity that wasn¡¯t her own body, which she effortlessly phased through. Somehow, she knew that she could put her flesh back on, if that was what she desired.


    At the same time, she wasn¡¯t entirely corporeal. Focusing hard enough allowed her body to clip past the things in its path. She wanted to try to see if it would work on a person, but there was a chance that the inexplicable phenomenon would have lasting effects. That was why she picked Sophia; it was her or the tiny wolf, and being a backup in the first place, Sophia was far better suited for the lab rat position.


    Her face perfectly blank and her hands perfectly steady, the phantom slowly reached over and stuck her fingers through the kelpfin¡¯s body. She half expected a rush of information, perhaps even an access panel that would allow her to see the girl¡¯s stats and secrets. But nothing happened. There wasn¡¯t even an access denied message or anything else that might have indicated the potential for success. Her hands simply phased through the other girl¡¯s frame, leaving her to sit around and stare without any recompense at all.


    A bit of observation later, the lyrkress abandoned her guinea pig and returned to cycling her magic and divinity. She allowed both energies to course freely through her body, forging true ice and easily imbuing it with the power of chaos. Everything went perfectly smoothly. Until she felt a pair of eyes boring into her back.


    She thought it was just her imagination at first¡ªafter all, she had become a spirit and her body was exactly where she left it¡ªbut the sensation continued to persist until she spun around. And found herself staring down a sleepy squid.


    Arciel slowly looked between the tail she was hugging and the one hanging in front of her before grabbing both and going back to bed.


    ¡°What a peculiar dream,¡± she muttered.


    Claire tried pulling her ghost tail away, but the squid held it firmly, and she wasn¡¯t able to phase through the queen¡¯s body immediately on demand. In fact, she wasn¡¯t able to do it at all. It was the only part of her body that she couldn¡¯t phase through the world.


    And so the lyrkress was stuck. She was about to use force to break free, but then the phenomenon ended as quickly and suddenly as it began; for no clear reason at all, her spirit returned to her body of its own accord.

 Chapter 338 - Debts and Dues II

    Chapter 338 - Debts and Dues II


    109832 - 8 - 4 - 7


    Dear Diary,


    There are only three days left in 109832. I can¡¯t believe how well this year has gone! I¡¯ve gained a whole seventy levels and I¡¯m already almost 100. Lina and I wanted to keep training, but Master said that it¡¯s important to take breaks, so we¡¯re celebrating the winter festival with everyone else. Some of our cousins are going to be visiting tomorrow. My uncle is really creepy and I hate the way he keeps trying to grab Lina¡¯s tail. I finally unlocked the berserker class last week, so maybe I¡¯ll just enrage while Master isn¡¯t looking.


    Lia


    ___


    The sounds that accompanied the Sunakprathesian morning inspired nothing but overt confusion. The forest¡¯s beasts howled and roared as soon as the sun inched over the horizon, signalling the start to a long summer day. The warmest season wouldn¡¯t last for much longer. Fall was almost upon them if the wind was anything to go by, but the forest showed none of its signs. The trees were still lush and their branches were lined with half-grown fruit.


    While their relationship with the local wildlife was largely mutualistic, not all of the trees were so patient as to sit in the dirt and absorb their fill. It was not at all uncommon to encounter an individual capable of movement. Some were more like animals and fled once their mimicry was seen through, but others were more monstrous and attacked everything they happened across.


    Whether something was considered a monster or not was based on its level of aggression. Plants and animals never attacked without purpose. Wolves were classified as animals in spite of devouring children and livestock aplenty, as it was only to feed themselves that they enacted such violence. While the same could not be said for the murder machines known as ants, most tiger species fell under the wolves¡¯ umbrella; they mainly attacked to purge intruders from their domain. They were happy to back off and avoid the risk of trading blows so long as no trespassing occurred.


    Monsters, on the other hand, were more like Boris before he was tamed. They attacked whatever they encountered, even if the cons greatly outweighed the pros. Retreat and submission only came to mind if they felt like they were thoroughly outclassed. And even then, some species would press forward regardless, their survival instincts silenced by the urge to kill.


    Smarter species could fight back their violent impulses and evaluate their circumstances more logically. The ability to be tamed was a result thereof. Individuals with even greater intelligence, such as those capable of writing in the system¡¯s secondary numerals, could even find themselves lost in the pursuit of alternative interests.


    That particular trait then begged for one to draw the line between an intelligent monster and a dysfunctional person. And in fact, it was too difficult a separation for even Flitzegarde to determine. Arachne served as the classic example. The species was incredibly aggressive right after birth. Their minds were locked behind a mad fog that drove them to attack everything that moved. But after just a few weeks, the frenzy would fade, leaving a working member of society in its bloody wake.


    Goblins were just as troublesome. Scholars could not quite decide the point where their mindlessness abated and there existed many amongst the populace that protested their large-scale extermination. But despite the common misconception, it was not as if they strictly grew less ferocious following their ascensions. The opposite was sometimes true as well, even if far less common. One could easily argue that there was never a difference between monsters and people to begin with. And that was exactly what Claire told herself as she watched the adventurers that had shared their campsite overnight.


    The party was a mixed bag of different species. And while their identities certainly garnered some interest, it was their meal that stole her attention. She had certainly heard of slime-eaters before, but it was her first time seeing the practice in person¡ªlike arachne and goblins, slimes were another species that often skirted the line.


    Generally speaking, they were considered to be more monstrous and aggressive if they grew up in the wild, but they could quickly soak up knowledge if raised in the presence of other intelligent creatures. In fact, slime babies learned to walk and talk much more quickly than human ones, and as evidenced by their presence among the royal maids, they were easily employable. That was why her interest was piqued as the other party boiled one such creature alive.


    It tried to escape; the gelatinous blob extended its tendrils in a bid to work its way out of the pot, but they kept the lid on tight and scooped any bits that escaped right back into the container. The struggle lasted for the better part of a minute, but the slime eventually collapsed and succumbed to the burning heat.


    The party¡¯s cook, a bespeckled, bipedal wolf with slightly more youth than not, lifted the lid and peered intently into the pot. He swirled a ladle around, raising the slime only when it floated back up to the surface. Once extracted, he peeled away everything that wasn¡¯t its stomach and chopped the massive organ into a series of bite-sized pieces. He went on to fry them in oil before serving them alongside a portion of similarly prepared vegetables. Claire suspected that the dish was most likely like tripe, though the adventurers¡¯ faces revealed a general distaste for its flavour.


    Her curiosity dismissed, Claire turned towards their own campfire. Chloe was typically too much of a late riser to involve herself in breakfast, but having woken up early for the first time in two weeks, she was already out and about. She yawned constantly as she tended to the fire and cooked the eggs that they had acquired just the previous day. Like most of the other less convenient purchases, the unborn poultry was slated for immediate consumption. The perishability wasn¡¯t as much of a problem as the difficulty of transport. Like fluffy breads and delicate fruits, they were simply too much of a pain to haul around. They only had one wagon and much of its space was taken up by their clothes and camping supplies. The rest was filled with items that were more calorie-dense or otherwise easier to transport. Nuts, dried fruits, jerkies, cheeses and breads made up the majority of their perishables. Their meals likely would have been much better had Claire engaged her authority skill, but she refrained from showing it off. As a certain cat had once told her, it was the sort of ability that the greedy were sure to covet. And more importantly, the god of the hunt was likely to alter his approach if he discovered its lack of lethality. His first attempt at harassment had already been obnoxious enough to decipher. The last thing she wanted was for him to up the ante and rethink his petty games.


    ¡°Is it just me, or have you been more broody lately?¡± asked the maid.


    Chloe spoke in her usual friendly but nonsensical tone; the only other person that was awake, besides Lana, who had been in charge of that night¡¯s watch, was the praying mantis.


    ¡°It¡¯s just you,¡± said Claire, as she continued to brood.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Of course it is.¡± Sighing, the maid added a bit of water to her pan before moving over to the lyrkress and planting herself beside her.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Sit still. Stop trying to shuffle away.¡± She grabbed her by the wrist and pressed their foreheads together. The gesture was followed by a bit of a delay, after which the former human suddenly began to shiver. ¡°Why are you so cold!?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re a pervert.¡±


    ¡°I was trying to check if you were sick,¡± cried the maid. ¡°How is that supposed to be perverted!?¡±


    ¡°Ask your hand.¡±


    Looking down, the maid found her fingertips in a rather compromising position. The hand had, at some point, crept under the moose¡¯s blouse and crawled up the length of her thighs; the contact was skin on skin, and its destination was certainly not appropriate.


    ¡°That was an accident,¡± she said, as she gracefully withdrew the frozen limb and hid it behind her back. There was little reason to believe the claim given the maid¡¯s history, but the embarrassed, apologetic smile betrayed a genuine reaction. Ever since becoming a succubus, even if an odd hybrid thereof, she had found her hands wandering without permission.


    ¡°Pervert.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what a pervert would say.¡± The lyrkress thawed the imprisoned hand as she spoke and scuttled away. The sex demon¡¯s tail was getting a little too close to her own. ¡°And I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Great. In that case, would you mind letting me have a few sips of blood?¡± asked the maid.


    Claire blinked. ¡°Just how shameless are you?¡±


    ¡°Almost entirely.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why I asked.¡± The moose shook her head and spun Chloe around with a vector. ¡°Why don¡¯t you go drink some of hers instead?¡±


    She pointed to the wolf girl polishing her axe by the cave¡¯s entrance. Perhaps sensing the impending danger, Lana immediately spun around, but there was nothing for her to see. Claire had already returned the maid¡¯s eyes to their previous position.


    ¡°She¡¯s too flat,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why that matters.¡±


    ¡°Flat girls don¡¯t taste as good.¡±


    There was a brief pause.


    ¡°Liar.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the truth!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you.¡±


    ¡°I swear in Griselda¡¯s name,¡± said Chloe. Though Claire was still doubtful, the half-vampire was dead serious. For her race¡¯s members, the logic made plenty of sense. The best meal for a succubus was one in line with her fetishes.


    ¡°Fine.¡± The lyrkress agreed after taking a moment to scrutinize the former human¡¯s face. A sigh on her lips, she crafted a vial of ice and matched it with a blade of the same material. She moved to slit her wrist, but Chloe grabbed it before she could. ¡°What now?¡±


    ¡°Can I drink from your veins directly?¡±


    ¡°No. Pervert. I¡¯m doing you enough of a favour already.¡±


    ¡°What a shame.¡± The maid heaved an exaggerated sigh. ¡°I suppose I must settle for a second-rate meal, in spite of the delicacy that sits right before me.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you think imitating Ciel would help,¡± said Claire. ¡°And stop that. I¡¯m supposed to be the one copying people.¡±


    ¡°You let her do it all the time.¡±


    ¡°Because she isn¡¯t a pervert.¡±


    ¡°I swear it¡¯s not intentional.¡±


    ¡°I believe you.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    Claire wouldn¡¯t have minded if the blonde was an ordinary vampire, but she was hardly fond of the moaning fits that followed the maid¡¯s meals. The problem stemmed from her other half. For a succubus, copulation and feeding were effectively the same behaviour. The link between the two activities was wired right into the core of their beings, going as far as triggering the same neural pathways with the exact same intensity. Even her regular, bloodless meals came with indecent displays¡ªChloe¡¯s body would seemingly tremble with ecstasy and joy each time her tongue was presented a treat¡ªand vital fluids were by far her favourite.


    Though Alfred¡¯s antics had desensitized her to the fact that her blood would drive the interaction, she did not want to experience the maid¡¯s convulsions firsthand.


    The half-snake froze her wound when the vial was almost full and sealed the container with an icy lid. With her physiology as it was, the maid typically ate in private; Arciel had banned the alternative following a particularly delicious dinner.


    Her face all smiles, Chloe got up from her seat and returned to the fire. She was just in time for her fried eggs to finish. Shovelling them off the heat, she put them onto a plate piled high with food and presented it to the blood donor.


    Claire silently accepted the meal. Her expression was perfectly blank, but internally, she was cursing. The eggs were perfectly prepared; the yolks were so runny that they spilled over and coated her toast as soon as she broke them, in spite of the fact that they had been abandoned for a solid two minutes. It didn¡¯t make any sense. If she were the cook, they surely would have been black as coal, even with all the same conditions.


    The cooking skill alone could not have possibly accounted for the disparity. Claire had tried following the former human¡¯s recipes to the T, and she had even asked her to watch as she prepared her dishes. Chloe had personally verified that she was doing everything right. And yet, somehow, the meals she cooked would always catch fire. It was almost like there was some sort of divine intervention at play. And with the circumstances as they were, she was starting to think that the god of the hunt was the one to blame.


    ¡°Do you have any blessings?¡± asked Claire. ¡°Like maybe one from the god of cooking?¡±


    Chloe brought a hand to her lips and tried to stifle her laughter, but a few snorts leaked out regardless. ¡°I have one, but it¡¯s not from Ashbill.¡±


    ¡°Who then?¡±


    The human laughed awkwardly. ¡°A minor god. I actually just received his blessing the other day.¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°That¡¯s not very specific.¡±


    ¡°No one really seems to know him, so I didn¡¯t think there was a point in being explicit,¡± explained the succubus. ¡°He introduced himself as the lord of life and heavenly creation.¡±


    Claire pinched the bridge of her nose and slowly lowered her head. ¡°Of course it was him.¡±


    ¡°You know him?¡± asked Chloe, with her eyes wide.


    ¡°Unfortunately.¡± The half-moose got back to her feet and handed the maid her empty plate. ¡°Ask Sylvia about it when she wakes up. I¡¯m sure she¡¯d be glad to talk your ears off.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure she would,¡± laughed the vampire. ¡°Are you heading out?¡±


    ¡°For a bit.¡± Stepping out into the open, Claire nodded at Lana, who responded in kind, before spreading her wings and shooting into the sky. It was already well past her usual waking hour, though it was a bit difficult to tell with the day as dark as it was. It wasn¡¯t storming just yet, but the clouds were thick and heavy enough that it was only a matter of time.


    Still, the caldriess proceeded regardless. She wanted to find their enemies before they found her. Though perhaps more importantly, her morning flight was already a part of her daily routine, and she wasn¡¯t about to forgo it on account of a little rain.

 Chapter 339 - Debts and Dues III

    Chapter 339 - Debts and Dues III


    Claire turned back and headed for the cave as soon as the rain began to fall. She had been out for roughly an hour, during which she had scouted the perimeter and found nothing of note; Ephesus¡¯ men had yet to enter her range. It was always possible that they had managed to conceal themselves, but if they were really his men, she doubted that to be the case.


    Ephesus¡¯ strength did not come from his secret service, his standing army, or even his economic weight. Rather, it stemmed from his ability to take decisive action. He had a reputation for making good decisions on the fly, and as such, was able to compensate for his weakness by rallying proficient fighters under his banner in times of need. Though Panda hadn¡¯t specified as such, Claire suspected that the incoming assassins were borrowed troops of such a variety. And if that were the case, then they were sure to pose a threat.


    Kael¡¯ahruus¡¯ schemes only added to the danger. If the escaped hunter reconvened with his allies and provided his knowledge, then they would have at least some idea of what it was that she could do. And that was precisely why she had hoped to find her enemies and take them out before she was caught unawares.


    Alas, she was unable to find anything worth noting. The only creatures that roamed the vast jungle were those that belonged within it. Claire had considered checking the city, but she gave up on the idea as soon as it got into her head. The assassins were sure to stand out on account of their Cadrian races, but she didn''t have time to scour the settlement, and asking around would undoubtedly draw her prey¡¯s attention.


    With her effort spent and nothing to show for it, she found herself back at camp with her mood as sour as the weather. What started as a gentle drizzle quickly transformed into a violent storm. The winds howled with such vigour that their cries echoed through the cave, robbing its residents of the ability to sleep. Sylvia was the only one still unconscious. While everyone else groggily climbed out of their bedrolls, the fox remained stuffed in hers with a soundproof bubble to keep out the weeping winds.


    Having already voted in favour of a respite, everyone was settled around the campfire, with Krail emerging as the center of attention. The rambling old elf told tales of his past, enlightening his new companions on the journeys he sought with those that came before them. It was a bit of a curious development. In Cadria at least, the elves had a habit of keeping to themselves. Most outsiders had trouble getting along with them given their vehement denial of the gods above, but somehow, the old man had drawn a full audience to the fire. Like Arciel¡¯s group, the adventurers and merchants they camped with had chosen to shelter until the rain abated; everyone was leaning in to listen to his tall tales.


    Claire didn¡¯t think much of it. The merchants were hardly in enough of a rush to risk damaging their goods, and the adventurers had the tendency to follow their own schedules. With the way that the elf was drawing in the dirt, it was only natural for the spectators to draw closer. And that was precisely why she was too late to stop the sword that pierced his gut.


    The victim was one of the few not caught entirely off guard. Leaping backwards, he redirected the blow just in time to protect his heart. He waved his staff as he fell back and captured the responsible merchant in a root-laden bouquet. It was high elf racial magic¡ªthe ability to enhance and manipulate all manner of plants.


    The rest of the camp rose with the roots. The other merchants backed off in panic while the soldiers and adventurers all reached for their weapons.


    ¡°N-Niran!? W-what are you doing!?¡± stuttered one of the peddlers. Like all the other muskrats, he spoke in an adorable squeak.


    The man named Niran didn¡¯t respond. He only twisted his lips into a smirk before cracking his neck and flexing his muscles. The roots were unable to hold. They snapped under the pressure, easily as if they were never reinforced.


    A storm of arrows pelted the man from all directions, but he remained unflinching even as his organs were pierced. His mirage wore off, however. The shape of his body shimmered to reveal a rabbit with a coat of snow-white fur. The wounds that adorned it closed, but their traces were left behind. Bright crimson stains, just like his glowing eyes.


    Krail gritted his teeth. ¡°Be careful!¡± he shouted. ¡°I can¡¯t read his classes, but his le¡ª¡± Both his words and his spells came to an end as a stone broke through the elf¡¯s gut and brought him to his knees.


    Having fully broken free, the rabbit pressed one of his feet against the ground and suddenly disappeared. The movement was like Nymphetel¡¯s, only backed by so much force that it tore the cave apart. Everything shook and shuddered. The ceiling half collapsed and the tents were blown away. His target was the same man he had first struck; he was fully intent on finishing the elf, but Lana stepped between them, deployed her domain, and countered the blow with a swing of the axe.


    His predictable trajectory allowed her to catch him. But that was about the extent of her achievement.


    Her arms gave out before his raw strength. The bones in her wrists snapped as soon as their weapons collided. Her axe joined her in bowing to her enemy¡¯s power. The rabbit¡¯s sword ripped right through the cleaver¡¯s edge and left a two-inch impression in the side of its blade.


    She slowed him down for just a moment, but that moment was long enough for Matthias to descend upon his back. His scythes went straight for the ankles, a blow intended more for suppression than his foe¡¯s outright deletion.


    Ace was less naive. He drove his weapon straight into the cottontail¡¯s chest, piercing both his lungs and heart.


    Sophia arrived half a step later. She drove her fist straight towards the rabbit¡¯s jaw in hopes of rattling his brain. It would have been the perfect decision had she timed it with the others¡¯ blows, but having sat on the other side of the fire, her reaction was somewhat delayed. The rabbit recovered in time and impaled her fist before it was able to reach him.


    And then, with a solid sneer, he twisted his blade and put it to work. Sophia¡¯s fist. Lana¡¯s axe. Matthias¡¯ blades. Ace¡¯s arm. Everything within reach of his sword was delivered a flash of lightspeed slashes.


    Claire recognized the ability. It was not a skill, but an advanced technique practiced by all the springblade schools, and one that only a cottontail could perform. It took advantage of their unique biology. Their arms were short, flexible, and powerful, and when compressed with sufficient force, their tendons bounced back like springs. Combining each advantage in its optimal form allowed every trait to enhance every other.


    It was the same attack each time, varying only based on the length and flexibility of a given rabbit¡¯s arms. A knowledgeable Cadrian fighter would have movements to counter it. But none of the three had ever seen the flurry before.


    Sophia and Ace each lost their arms. Lana¡¯s weapon was completely destroyed, and Matthias only barely managed to weather the storm. His inbuilt weapons were nicked all over, covered from head to tail in tiny, bleeding cuts. But gritting his teeth and nearly howling in agony, he imitated his pain-resistant foe and forced his flesh to heal.


    The man disguised as Niran raised a brow and twisted his lips into a grin. He had been told that the enemies were cowards. And though that seemed to be true for most of the weaklings present, he was glad to see that there were at least some disciplined fighters among them. He had every intention of thumping his feet into the ground and testing the rhiar¡¯s tolerance, but a hail of blasts and arrows kept the rabbit at bay.


    He leapt up to the ceiling, where he compressed his legs and prepared for another jump. He had identified his next target. As a pure, finesse-based warrior, his specifications were tuned for melees; he lacked the spirit required to mitigate the magic¡¯s damage, and continuing to regenerate would cause him more trouble than not.


    Jules clicked his tongue when Niran spun around and faced him head-on. The man vanished by the time the clam had registered his direction. But having anticipated his movements, he was not without a reasonable defence. The space between the two exploded. Everything from one point to the other was wrapped in crimson flame, including the caster himself.


    And it was precisely that final set of attacks that caught the rabbit¡¯s tail. Half of Niran¡¯s fragile, fuzzy body was completely blown away, but the clam didn''t emerge unscathed. His detonations had half peeled his shell and a sword had stitched it shut.


    The Cadrian recovered before Jules could escape his range, but he was once again stopped short of an execution. Sophia inserted herself between them right as the world was robbed of shadow.


    It was only for an instant that the darkness gathered. But that was all Arciel required to construct her ars magna. The tiny black blob that resulted¡ªthe culmination of all the world¡¯s shadows¡ªshot from the tip of her staff. There was hardly anything intimidating about the miniature projectile, but the rabbit refused to fall for the trick. He kicked off the ground, leaving his sword in the clam as he retreated at top speed. It was only the natural reaction. The moment that preceded its creation was far too conspicuous to ignore.


    He swerved his body out of its path. He made sure that his dash was perpendicular. And yet, he was struck dead on. A vector altered the projectile¡¯s momentum and accelerated it straight into his back.


    The rabbit dug his fingers into his eyes as soon as he was blinded, but regenerating the organs failed to restore his vision.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The whole group followed with attacks of their own. Some threw ars magnae while others launched their weapons. But the cottontail remained unscathed.


    He evaded all of their attacks by further boosting his speed.


    He became a series of red and white blurs as he bounced from wall to wall. Tracking him was nearly impossible. The dashes were soundless, completely devoid of any resistance from the air that filled his surroundings. But it was not just his enemies that lost track of his position. The same skill that manipulated his friction prevented any sound waves from reaching him. And with his eyes blinded, his only source of navigation was through his sense of touch.


    There was a map of the cave still built into his head. His memory allowed him to retrieve his blade and kick his way through Sophia¡¯s gut. His next attack was aimed at Arciel, but she had already melded into the shadows and gotten out of his way. Likewise, none of the other targets stayed where he remembered them. He could do nothing but bounce around the cave whilst madly swinging his sword.


    It was not an ineffective strategy¡ªhe cut off one of Matthias¡¯ scythes, slew a random adventurer, and took half of Ace¡¯s tail¡ªbut he took as much damage as he inflicted. He rammed his face into the rocks and sometimes met the brigade¡¯s weapons head-on. His wounds were always closed. But that was the extent of his achievement.


    Niran was hardly the adaptable type. He would have instated himself as a gladiator had his mind been quicker on its feet. But it wasn¡¯t. He was only effective in high-speed combat because he had gone through the motions and baked them into his body. But the blindness that assailed him was beyond the realm of his practice. He knew he couldn¡¯t slow. There were too many enemies. They were sure to pin him down if he removed his veil, lowered his speed, and allowed their sounds to reach him. He had nothing but worry for the result of his rampage.


    And yet, when his vision finally returned, after his partner finally cleansed him of its effects, he found that he was victorious. The enemies were torn up. Some were even dead, though unfortunately, they were not his targets. Of those he had hoped to kill, half had missing limbs or massive gashes. He hadn¡¯t been able to finish them off because they had hidden themselves behind an icy wall, crafted in one of the cave¡¯s furthest corners.


    The cottontail slid to a halt and inspected the barrier from afar. It didn¡¯t seem particularly tough, but it was completely undamaged despite the dusty prints that his feet had left on its surface. Brute force was unlikely to prove itself effective.


    So he stepped behind it instead.


    Lightly tapping a foot against a nearby shadow, he appeared behind the half-conscious elf and stabbed him in the gut again. His second attack was more damaging than the first. He carved out the elf¡¯s liver and pillaged one of his bladders. With a second step, he warped behind the lizardman and stabbed him through the neck, while a third took him to the Vel¡¯khanese queen.


    Her shadow, however, was not quite as welcoming. Opening its jaws wide, it ate the bottom half of his body as soon as he slipped inside of it. Another smaller jaw emerged from the first and dug through his ribs, but he regenerated his legs and escaped its range before it could consume his brain.


    Though he had been forced to regenerate again, it was no doubt a fruitful venture. His sword had reached the monarch¡¯s stomach. The mage was nowhere near as durable as the warriors accompanying her, and like the elf, she coughed a puddle of blood and fell right down to her knees.


    A frown appeared on his lips as he flicked the gore off his trusty weapon. He didn¡¯t understand. The capital was in a fuss. The brass was gathering the most powerful fighters that the nation could offer, just to face a group unable to match a warrior too weak to give his name.


    It didn¡¯t make sense. He couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of the scenario, even as he settled his eyes on the barrier¡¯s creator. Coincidentally, she was the only member of the group lucky enough to have escaped unharmed.


    He knew who she was. She had put on her armour since the fight began, but the disguise came too little too late. He had already seen the face that lay under her helm and recognized it as would any half-decent spy. He didn¡¯t know what trickery she used to remain in the capital whilst simultaneously exploring the world outside beyond it, but whatever the case, her identity was clear.


    Knowing it, however, did nothing to quell his bloodlust.


    His master surely would have dissuaded her murder, but from what the rabbit had gathered, said master had no idea who the nameless knight was. And that was precisely why he would seize the opportunity. He could only imagine the outlandish bonuses he would receive for killing the one true king¡¯s daughter. If he were lucky, he would even be blessed with a bonus to his wit, maybe something gifted to him by Vella herself. He did worry for a second that she would defeat him, but the strength of the riffraff only worked to inspire his confidence.


    Perhaps sensing his bloodlust, she stepped out from the barrier alone. The only weapon in her hands was a metal lance. He hadn¡¯t the faintest clue as to when she picked it up or where she had even been storing it, but there was too much red in his eyes to care.


    The only thing he noted before he charged was that her stance was perfectly practiced. Contrary to the data in his base, she had invested time and effort into the mastery of the standard Cadrian styles. It was a shame then that she would never be given the chance to put it to use.


    The distance between them was closed in a fraction of a second.


    All twenty meters vanished.


    His sword shredded her armour like paper and pierced right through her gut as the shaft of her spear crashed into his shoulder. He followed with another slash aimed at the base of her neck, but strangely, his weapon refused to move. The blade only rattled in its guard when he tried to withdraw it.


    Thinking it no matter, he decided to release the sword. But like his weapon, his fingers refused his orders.


    Evading a stab with a casual bob, he looked down and frowned when he found his arms encased in ice. Still, he didn''t mind it. His limbs were easily replaced.


    He kicked off the ground with enough force to rip the joints on his elbows and grew them by the time of his landing. He didn''t have a weapon anymore, but he was not concerned. Niran was a cottontail. His legs would serve just as well as his sword.


    Lunging yet again, he twisted himself into a corkscrew and aimed a kick between the princess¡¯ ribs. But when he tried to balance himself, he found his body spinning out of control. It took a moment for him to realize that the lack of balance stemmed from a missing part. His foot had been left behind. It was like something had affixed it to the ground right as he tried to hunt the halfbreed down.


    It was most likely that same something which suddenly froze his body, but he cared little for the details. He was a missile regardless, and his body made contact with hers. The impact cracked his skull in exchange for peeling away her flesh. Given her lack of rapid regeneration, it was clearly a trade that worked in his favour.


    He wasn¡¯t afraid of her tricks. He had already heard of them through the grapevine. His magical defences were certainly still lacklustre, much like the soldiers she had duelled before, but he was more resistant than Titus¡¯ pathetically vulnerable brood. His spirit was further shored up by a series of magics and amulets. She could waste her mana all she wanted. His mind would never be dominated for more than a tenth of a second.


    Feeling rather invincible, he broke free of her invisible grasp, planted a foot on the ground, and prepared to drive the other straight into her neck when his body came to a stop. His entire one-meter frame was frozen.


    Even his eyeballs were incapable of movement. Still, he saw it loud and clear. A cold gaze that melted right through his icy prison.


    He tried to struggle, but like the sword in her gut, his body could not be moved. The whole thing was encased. There was no way for him to break free and regenerate the flesh he lost.


    The only saving grace was her exhaustion. Her expression revealed none of it at all, but the barrier that guarded her allies had already melted. Tiny trails of blood leaked out of the holes in her helmet, and he could clearly see that the magical lines in her body were pushed beyond their limits.


    He had clearly won.


    She drove her weapon straight towards his brain.


    But he escaped unscathed.


    Niran wasn¡¯t the best assassin. His techniques were below average, his speed was lacklustre, his power was pitiful, and he often underestimated his foes.


    He did, however, have a trick¡ªthe ability to vanish and reposition.


    Suddenly disappearing from within the ice, he crawled out of a shadow a few meters away and resumed his assault on her damaged form.


    He bounced around the arena at his previous speed, pelting her with cuts and gashes. She managed to protect her vitals, and on occasion, she even caught him off guard with some strange counter or other. But her damage never stuck. She couldn¡¯t pin him down for long enough to deliver a fatal blow.


    And none of her associates were powerful enough to help.


    Her head was his to take. Just like the arm he had already stolen.


    That was at least what he thought, however, until the heat in his body suddenly gathered between his loins. Thoroughly confused, he found himself unable to tear his gaze from the party¡¯s maid. There was something about her eyes, her ugly, furless body, that prevented him from looking away. But even that was a paltry distraction. He knew that, while it would have been a waste not to ravage her while she still held breath, he would only have to kill her first to return to his previous task.


    He wasn¡¯t worried. At least not until his partner cleared his negative status again.


    It was only then that he noticed that the Vel¡¯khanese queen was sitting atop a throne of blood. Sanguine fluid flooded from the chair and filled their surroundings. Dozens of ripples appeared on the surface of the lake, with a soldier of some sort rising from each distortion. He ploughed right through them. None of the unfamiliar summons were powerful enough to serve as a threat, and the bloodborne mantis was weaker than the already pathetic original. That was why he had expected the crimson lyrkress to serve as nothing but fodder.


    But he was wrong.


    The Claire clone was the only one that completely outperformed the original.


    Without any crippling pain to haunt it, its movements were sharper and its magic was more potent. Arciel was incapable of fueling its divinity, but the clone was deadly enough without its unholy powers. Freezing him in place with a magical glare and tearing at his body with a storm of unchained vectors, it left him open while the real Claire grabbed ahold of his unguarded brain.


    She ripped it from its cage and stole its health and mana away.


    Niran tried to escape her grasp again. But he was too late. With his grey matter squashed flat, he was unable to form the requisite thought.


    A few seconds later and he was dead, mind and body both completely destroyed.

 Chapter 340 - Debts and Dues IV

    Chapter 340 - Debts and Dues IV


    109833 - 1 - 1 - 10


    Dear Diary,


    Today is the last day of the winter festival. The first half was really fun because we got to eat all of our favourite foods, but I had to sit in a corner after Uncle visited. He tried to touch Lina''s tail, so I enraged and kicked his butt. Master wasn''t very happy about it, and neither was Mom, but it''s his fault for being a creep.


    Yesterday, we met Ms. Olga, Master''s ex. She¡¯s a middle-aged huskari lady with really pretty fur. She kind of invited herself, but Master was the only one that minded. She brought us a lot of food and gifts, including a pair of matching swords for Lina and I, so everyone else was happy to have her at the table. She still seemed to like Master quite a bit, and though he was really awkward around her, he didn''t really seem to dislike her either. It doesn¡¯t look like they broke up for real.


    She''s going to be joining us when we set out tomorrow. Master said it''s a long trip. We''re going south, and I think we''re even going to be visiting Ms. Olga''s home. She said it''s in a beautiful city that''s half underwater. How does that even work? I can''t wait to find out.


    Lia


    ___


    ¡°Your abilities are far too expensive.¡± The first thing Arciel did, as she confirmed the kill in her log, was to complain to the bleeding lyrkress. ¡°Why is it that staring at a rabbit incurs a four million point cost?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Claire. ¡°You¡¯re probably staring too hard.¡± She removed the blade in her gut as her missing arm floated over and froze itself to its bloody stump.


    ¡°While I do not doubt that there was fault in my use, its cost remains absurd.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad,¡± said Claire. ¡°The realm is worse.¡±


    The squid twitched. ¡°I do not understand how it is you manage without a staff.¡±


    ¡°Boris works.¡±


    ¡°I suppose he must.¡±


    ¡°Should we really be letting down our guards?¡± asked Krail. ¡°The raccoon mentioned that there were two of them, if memory serves correctly, and I¡¯d guess that the second assassin is going to be trying to finish us off.¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be a problem,¡± grunted Ace. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure his partner¡¯s a priest.¡± Like everyone not named Claire, the lizardman had been fully healed by the Cadrian¡¯s defeat. With their fatigue recovered, some of the members had already started on some task or other¡ªMatthias was practicing counters against an imaginary foe, while Jules was placating the surviving merchants and adventurers. It was a task at which he proved surprisingly adept, in spite of his rough demeanour.


    ¡°Priest or not, he could still be a decent fighter,¡± said Krail. ¡°One of my old parties was nearly wiped out by a priest during a quest where we were supposed to clear out some cultists, though if you ask me, everyone is basically a cultist these days. Indoctrinated, the lot of you, I swear.¡±


    ¡°If he was going to attack us, he would¡¯ve done it with the rabbit,¡± said Claire.


    The elf grimaced. ¡°If you were fully healed, maybe, but looking like that, you¡¯re practically begging for him to finish us. Did he not give you enough experience to level?¡±


    Claire shrugged. The man had only given her about a quarter of a racial class level, and the idiots she slew in the dungeon the other day only amounted to half that number. Her titular class was somehow even worse off. Its third level was still missing a tiny sliver. And in the first place, it was not as if leveling up would have helped, with her ascension¡¯s penalty being what it was.


    ¡°It is hardly a problem,¡± said Arciel. ¡°My mana has been restored and my faith stands firm. I shan¡¯t lose to any other priest.¡±


    The queen puffed out her chest, but Krail was not quite as confident. He continued to frown, even as Ace lightly thumped him on the shoulder.


    ¡°You¡¯re worrying too much, Mister Greenwood. How¡¯s about you kick back a bit? That last one might¡¯ve caught us off guard, but we¡¯ll be fine as long as it doesn¡¯t happen again.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t remind me. I should¡¯ve known that there would be an ambush of sorts,¡± said Krail. ¡°Normally, I¡¯d have sensed it in my bones, but it looks like I was off today. You know, this reminds me of that time some hundred and fifty years ago, when my fri¡ª¡±


    ¡°That is enough of that,¡± said Arciel. ¡°It is necessary for us to discuss our plans. We must hunt the second Cadrian agent if we wish to prevent him from informing his allies of our abilities,¡± she looked at Claire, ¡°and our identities.¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°I¡¯d love to. But my tracking skill isn¡¯t picking him up. Is yours?¡± She looked at Sophia. She wasn¡¯t actually sure if the shark had the skill in question, but it seemed apt enough for a member of the secret service.


    ¡°Negative. I cannot detect him.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve got that part covered.¡± Panda¡¯s voice suddenly came from a dark corner where no one happened to be looking. Stepping out from within it, the raccoon rubbed his dirty little paws together and continued in a casual tone. ¡°I know exactly where he was holed up and exactly where he¡¯s heading. I can do something about his letters, but it¡¯s up to you to make him pay his dues.¡± He looked around the crowd. ¡°But one word of caution, he¡¯s probably stronger than the one you just beat.¡±


    ¡°Why do you know?¡± asked Claire. ¡°And where did you come from?¡± Her eyes were even colder than usual.


    ¡°Trade secret,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re just going to have to trust me.¡± He clearly knew that he was asking for the impossible, and the shit-eating grin on his face reflected the sentiment.


    ¡°I refuse.¡±


    ¡°While I certainly understand your concern, Claire, I do believe that we haven¡¯t another choice,¡± said Arciel.


    The lyrkress only averted her eyes.


    Taking her silence as tacit approval, the squid looked around the room. ¡°Are there any objections?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t go.¡± Lana presented her broken axe, which had wound up as more of a jagged stick. Its missing blade was, arguably, even worse off than its handle. The cottontail¡¯s sword had melted right through the metal with little to no resistance. The few bits left uncut were equally unsalvageable; they were covered in the same cracks that decorated its supposedly hardened body.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°My main sword¡¯s done too,¡± said Ace. ¡°The piece of junk was pretty much standard issue, unlike Miss Penhorn¡¯s axe, but I¡¯ll still need it swapped before I can jump back into action.¡±


    Claire rose to her feet. ¡°Then go back to town. I can handle the runner myself.¡±


    ¡°You shall be doing no such thing until you have healed,¡± said Ciel. ¡°Perhaps it is time for us to rely on S¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s just you, the shark, and the mages, then you¡¯re probably better off not going,¡± said Panda. ¡°So whatever she¡¯s thinking is probably the best bet.¡±


    Claire pretended not to hear him. She did know the truth, of course. Engaging was risky. Their opponent was a level eight hundred that they barely knew anything about, and they had only barely managed to eke out a win against what was most likely his weaker partner. They were better off giving up. But she couldn¡¯t allow her identity to slip.


    The secret wasn¡¯t just a strategic advantage that she could leverage at a later date, but also one of the few things that ensured Rubia¡¯s continued existence. There was a chance her father would come clean and outright remove the homunculus in the case that the secret leaked too far. Even if he refrained from killing her, he was sure to take her out of the life that she so clearly enjoyed.


    But at the same time, she felt like revealing Sylvia¡¯s abilities was equally mistaken. Panda might have had a grudge against her father, but he was only working with them because their interests aligned. For all she knew, showing her cards was no different from donning a noose.


    ¡°What race is he?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Three daggers and I¡¯ll tell you,¡± replied the raccoon.


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°Put it on my father¡¯s tab.¡±


    The fake panda breathed a sigh and raised his shoulders with an exaggerated shrug. ¡°Cloudrunner.¡±


    ¡°Thunderhoof?¡±


    ¡°Blackmist.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire. ¡°I can take him down.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t trust the rat, but she was confident in her own ability. Blackmist cloudrunners were primarily attuned to infiltration, and Ephesus¡¯ men were clearly not elites. Breaking his neck would be a simple task.


    ___


    Lucius held his breath and studied his heart as he eyed his prey from over a hill. He was over three hundred meters away, well outside the range of the animal¡¯s upwind detection. Just two days ago, he would have needed to be ten times closer, but his god¡¯s blessing had bolstered his skills¡¯ efficiency. Still, even though he was confident he could kill it, the hunter refrained from culling his mark. It was not a concern with his accuracy that drove the inaction. He was simply following his master¡¯s instructions.


    Kael¡¯ahruus did not approve of hunters incapable of adapting their strategies. There was always an optimal way for one to subdue one¡¯s quarry, the broad strokes of which could vary based on any number of factors. In the first place, the goal itself was a moving post; different needs meant different optimal solutions. To kill an animal for food meant bleeding it out without wasting too much of the meat, and as such, destroying its heart was often discouraged. On the other hand, cardiovascular damage was practically ideal for population control. Pelt-focused harvesting called for strangulation, whereas capturing the target¡¯s young typically involved the use of traps.


    To arrive at a reasonable conclusion¡ªto provide an ideal solution for each desired outcome¡ªwas precisely the thrill of the hunt.


    Even a creature as simple as a deer was a clean canvas for artistic expression, a way to refine one¡¯s skills and differentiate oneself from the one-note fools that always called for pitfalls and projectiles.


    Lucius felt nothing but shame knowing that he had only just graduated from his theological illiteracy. For his whole life, he had failed to consider his prey, settling for traditional methods whenever they were applicable. But no more. His time of ignorance had come to an end. That was why he began by observing his target. He watched its movements as it stretched its head towards a tree and drank the sweet sap from its lactating knobs. He watched its bones as they creaked through each of their positions and revealed the weaknesses in its skeletal structure. And he watched its spirit as it raised its eyes and scanned for predators.


    In a way, it was like him, unable to identify a threat even as it was being watched. He knew his own failures. And he wouldn¡¯t be repeating them again.


    Gripping his weapon, the massive bee drew closer and closer and closer; the deer didn¡¯t notice his approach until its skull was struck by the back of his hand. It was more of a tap than it was a punch; he hit the beast with just enough power to destroy its spinal cord without damaging any of its vertebrae. There were no open wounds nor even any bruising underneath its skin. It was a perfect, silent kill, executed with all of the techniques that his god had hammered into his body ever since the time of their meeting.


    With the beast slain, Lucius immediately fell to his knees. Clasping his hands in his lap, like any good Cadrian zealot, he closed his eyes and waited.


    He said no words of prayer. Though he was not entirely uneducated, the former huntsman was no one of note. He did not know any words powerful enough to express the extent of his worship, so he simply remained silent so that his master would infer them.


    He could feel the immortal lion smiling upon him. He could feel the warmth of his presence and the pure kindness reserved only for members of his pride.


    And then, when he finally opened his eyes, he found that all of it was true.


    The god of the hunt stood before him with his arms crossed and his lips twisted into a grin. His form was more translucent than it had been when he last possessed a body, but there was no helping it. All of the accompanying flesh was gone, consumed by the thorae following the god¡¯s explicit instruction. Though he had only inhabited the shell for a few minutes at most, remnants of his power had leached into the vessel and transformed it into a steroid well worth its weight in gold.


    ¡°A good kill,¡± said Kael¡¯ahruus. ¡°You¡¯ve done well to master my power.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Lord.¡±


    ¡°No, Lucius. Thank you,¡± said the god. ¡°Thank you for becoming the instrument through which my will is done.¡±


    ¡°You saved me, Lord. There¡¯s nothing more valuable than blood and honour, and warriors always pay back their debts.¡±


    The lion laughed. ¡°You are no longer a warrior, Lucius. You are a hunter.¡±


    The bee-ogre only nodded.


    ¡°But while I do love all my children and brethren, I feel that it wouldn¡¯t be quite right to simply lump you in with all of the others,¡± said the god. ¡°You¡¯re better suited for this than most, more talented by leaps and bounds.¡± A smile crossed his lips. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m making you my champion.¡±


    Lucius didn¡¯t even have time to question the declaration. A pillar of light descended from the heavens and enveloped his body in its golden embrace. Power flooded through his veins, raw power that his body couldn¡¯t quite contain. It almost felt like his flesh would burn right off his bones, like it would all be stripped with nothing left behind. But then, just as he was about to howl, kick, and scream, it came to an end. The god¡¯s light faded, leaving only a faint golden glow that pulsed through his holy tattoos.


    Once again, he had received the deity¡¯s blessing.


    And not just any blessing, but a more powerful form thereof.


    His classes changed in response. The miscellaneous abilities he had gathered over the years merged into a single, titular entity.


    He had become the hunter of fables.


    ¡°Our brethren will recognize you as our champion. Every institution has already been informed.¡±


    The ogre silently nodded. He wanted to speak, but he couldn¡¯t find the words, at least not with his joy and gratitude fighting for control of his heart. But all that vanished when he recalled a certain individual¡¯s face. Replaced by a thirst for revenge.


    ¡°You¡¯ve obtained several times her power. You could easily crush her underfoot,¡± said the god, ¡°but there is something you must first do.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Lord. What is it?¡±


    ¡°I would like you to head north,¡± he said. ¡°Visit the churches in Fornestead and Zarkaahn, save their nations, and prove your might to the people.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Lord. By your will,¡± said the ogre. He was a little disappointed, but he refrained from protesting his orders.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said the big cat, with an even bigger grin. ¡°She¡¯s heading north too. You¡¯ll just be beating her to her own quarry.¡±


    Lucius pressed his head to the floor in an immediate display of reverence and apology. He had only felt it for the briefest of moments, but the man could only chastise his lack of faith. There was no reason to doubt. His lord had taken all of his interests and hopes to heart.

 Chapter 341 - Debts and Dues V

    Chapter 341 - Debts and Dues V


    109833 - 1 - 2 - 3


    Dear Diary,


    Today is only the third day of our trip, and we¡¯ve somehow already been attacked! A whole group of bandits tried to steal our stuff, but we took theirs instead. Master didn¡¯t even need to do anything! I beat up all the grunts, and Lina beat their boss in a duel. She didn¡¯t even enrage!


    Master keeps telling her off for it though. He says that not going all out right off the bat is a really bad habit and that it¡¯s gonna get her killed someday, but he¡¯s probably just overthinking it. Lina¡¯s super strong. I just wish she would stop going through my diary. She keeps telling me that I¡¯m supposed to be writing like I¡¯m talking to it, but that feels kinda weird.


    Lia


    ___


    Claire leapt from rooftop to rooftop as she dashed her way through the city. To the sunaks, she must have looked like a giant. Even the hundred-and-thirty-centimeter frame that accompanied her smallest form towered over the local snake-rats. It wasn¡¯t as if they were all that much smaller. The average sunak could have reached her height if it stood up on its back feet and stretched out its spine. Without the extra effort, however, the brown-banded ferrets only went up as high as her waist. Even the prathesians, who were effectively larger sunaks with purple and black fur, were barely three-quarters her height.


    She would have been incredibly conspicuous had the weather been brighter, but the dark clouds had yet to depart. Heavy raindrops battered the city¡¯s buildings and walls, pittering and pattering just loudly enough to silence the caldriess¡¯ steps. Unseen and unheard, she carefully followed Panda¡¯s instructions, turning each time he raised a hand and guided her in another direction. He was, of course, not granted the liberty of riding her body. Claire floated him two meters in front of her and made sure he never came closer.


    A few minutes was all it took for the pair to arrive at their destination. In and of itself, it hardly stood out. It was just another tavern located by the side of the road. Its location was nothing to write home about, but neither was it particularly substandard. It was located on a quieter street whose width implied a middling amount of traffic.


    Though he pointed her to the door, Panda scampered off before her final approach. She tried tracking him, but his trail vanished by the time he rounded the corner. She didn¡¯t know what exactly it was, but something was impeding her skill.


    A quick investigation proved fruitless. Despite having colluded in his escape, the alleyway had no hints to offer. It was just another back street identical to every other. There were certainly plenty of places for the raccoon to hide, but the only heartbeats she heard came from within the buildings. It was like the man had upped and vanished.


    She didn¡¯t know how he managed it, but after snooping around for about five minutes, she gave up and headed for the tavern. She began by walking around it and checking for exits. There were two doors on the ground floor and a few windows scattered all over. She only looked from far away. The dark cloak that covered her body certainly concealed her in the rain, but her figure was too foreign to remain hidden from up close.


    Though somewhat inconvenient, the distance itself was not a true impediment. Seeing into the building was easy with her telescopic sight as powerful as it was. A few moments of staring was all it took to find her target. The only centaur in the room stood out like a sore thumb. Being a blackmist cloudrunner, he was of a smaller make than usual. He was slender for a man, especially one that had gone through extensive training, and only stood at a height akin to that of her lyrkrian form. As with all blackmist variants, his mane, his eyes, and his coat had all taken the eponymous colour. Even among other centaurs, he would have been impossible to mistake.


    The man was slowly munching away at a plate piled high with grass, seemingly off-duty and off-guard. If the bits of ink and wax on his fingers were any indication, he had already penned his letters and sent them off. She might have been able to hunt down his birds had she been present for their release, but she was far too late. She would just have to trust that Panda kept his word.


    Claire took a moment to check on her once-lost arm. She knew that it was fully healed¡ªher allies had allowed her to drain some of their health as a means of topping up her own¡ªbut she flexed the muscles and tested her fingers before calling Boris to her side.


    He was already in the shape that she wanted. His long, arched body was many times her height, and his string was so taut that it was impossible to pull in her smallest form. She could have turned him into a crossbow instead, but the half-mechanized weapon lacked the force required to execute her plan. She addressed the lack of leverage by assuming her true form. Her tail held the bow¡¯s grip in place while she hooked its string with her talons and pulled it as far back as it would go.


    A second Boris appeared in the space between the sight and her hand. It was only her tenth time wielding a bow and her second manipulating one that stood at over ten meters tall. It was more effective to throw her weapons in the midst of melee, but the sniper¡¯s weapon held the advantage in terms of stopping power. Despite her inexperience, everything about the process felt natural. Her weapon mastery skill bestowed her with all the knowledge and muscle memory she needed to make the perfect shot.


    Like its partner, the arrow pointed at the centaur was of an inordinate size; Claire had to stretch her body as far it could go to draw him to his maximum length. His shape was also rather untraditional. He looked more like a barbed spear or serrated lance than he did an ordinary bolt.


    Claire poured her magic into both pieces; she channelled as quickly as she could, knowing that the sudden surge would easily give her away. The agent perked up, but it was already too late. Boris was released at the first hint of movement.


    He was so fast that she was unable to accelerate him with her vectors. One moment, he was right in front of her, and in the next, the centaur found himself destroyed. Boris passed through his humanoid upper half and his equine rear, nailing the two parts to each other and the ground beneath him. The earth-bending impact should have been accompanied by an explosion, but Boris froze even that by unleashing the mana stored within his body. He erupted into an icy bloom that consumed everything within ten meters of his core. The tavern, the surrounding buildings, the patrons, and the horse were swallowed without exception.


    Like the magical attacks she had leveraged against the cottontail, the blessed arrow pushed the lyrkress¡¯ limits. Her circuits were unable to handle the sheer exertion, and the mana that leached into her flesh destroyed it outright; both her talons and her tail detonated into pools of blood.


    Her chest roared with pain as her divinity ran amok. She had only released it for the briefest of moments, but it threatened to swallow her whole and crush her beneath its overbearing weight. If not for Griselda¡¯s training, she surely would have found herself consumed. She was barely, barely able to fight it back. That, in and of itself, was a gamble. Just like all of the strategy¡¯s other moving parts.


    Perhaps because it was not true ice, the glacier born of her attack was cracked open and broken.


    The centaur dashed towards her, brandishing his spear as he closed the distance.


    But that was as far as he got.


    The hole in his chest wouldn¡¯t close. Because each of the shards of Boris that lay within his body was actively draining him of everything he had.


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    Though a Cadrian agent, the centaur was not the recovering type. He lacked the critical warrior class that brought his allies their on-demand healing. But it wouldn¡¯t have mattered even if he was. Neither Pollux nor the unnamed assassin were capable of outpacing Claire¡¯s theft. And with Boris inside of his body, he had no way of escaping it.


    Three steps out the door, and the man collapsed, completely deprived of every resource he had.


    Log Entry 850214


    You have slain a level 736 Blackmist Cloudrunner.


    This feat earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 3 points of vitality


    - 72 points of wisdom


    Log Entry 850215


    You have levelled up. Your health and mana have been partially restored.


    Your racial class, Caldriess, has reached level 508.


    Your titular class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has reached level 3.


    You have gained 2444 ability points.


    Having gained a level for the first time in three weeks, Claire¡¯s body started to heal. She wasn¡¯t fully restored, courtesy of her ascension-related demerit, but at least one of her talons returned. Of course, the world did not sit idly and wait for her body to regain its function. The panicked locals rushed straight to the city guard, which was unsurprisingly already on its way.


    Deciding that it was better not to sit around, Claire retrieved both Borises, rose into the air, and propelled herself back to camp. With one arm and her tail missing, her flight was painfully unbalanced, but she was able to ferry herself above the clouds by compensating with her vectors.


    The first thing she felt, as she reflected upon the result, was a wave of frustration. She knew that she had done the best she could with the circumstances presented. If anything, she was satisfied with her approach. She just hated how limited her abilities were. Neither of the foes she fought were particularly resistant to magic. Both could have fallen to a single breath. But though she often told everyone otherwise, her body often outright refused. She could only use the attack on days with less pain. And even then, it would scatter her flesh and further damage her circuits.


    She almost, almost regretted ignoring Vella¡¯s offer, but she soon shook the feeling away. She had already decided that she would overcome her weaknesses on her own.


    Repeating the statement three times under her breath, Claire filled her lungs with fresh air and dropped beneath the clouds. Setting herself down gently, she landed in front of their campsite and slowly closed her wings. The cave had been destroyed during the battle with the cottontail, so they had put away their tents and thrown together a large log cabin to keep out all the rain. Looking closely revealed that the pillars were really just made of large, wooden arrows, but their tips were buried deep enough underground that it hardly made a difference.


    ¡°I have been awaiting your return,¡± said Sophia. She was standing guard outside, hovering right beside the door, where it was still protected from the rain. ¡°Have you completed your objective?¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Good work,¡± she said, in her usual, stiff but friendly manner. ¡°Any outstanding items that will require our attention?¡±


    ¡°None,¡± said Claire.


    Sophia raised a hand to her chest, performing a picture-perfect Vel¡¯khanese salute before stepping out of the doorway. ¡°Understood. I will relay your circumstances to Her Majesty at my earliest convenience. We have set up a medical bay in the room to the right, having anticipated the case of your injury. Please report to it immediately."


    ¡°Orders received,¡± said Claire, as she mimicked the prime minister¡¯s heir.


    Sophia didn¡¯t seem to think much of the salute. She simply held her position and silently waited for Claire to change forms and pass before returning to her position.


    The cabin¡¯s interior was neither particularly shabby nor particularly well-decorated. There was a large fireplace set up, with its smoke moving up through a wooden chimney and transporting itself outdoors. The few surviving adventurers and merchants were already gone. From his non-presence, it seemed likely that Krail had offered to escort them somewhere safer.


    Claire nodded briefly at Ace and Lana, the only two to look up upon her return. The group¡¯s other members were too busy staring down several sheets of paper, which at a glance appeared to describe some of the more likely Cadrian participants.


    Deciding to let them concentrate, Claire made for the supposed medical bay. It was impossible not to head over with Sylvia poking her head out from the other side of the doorway. The expression on the fuzzy fox¡¯s face was filled with concern. She looked like she was about to run over at any moment, but the lyrkress was largely unbothered. Neither her missing arm nor her missing tail hurt any more than the rest of her body. Her usual pain was so much greater that she barely felt it at all. If anything, it was the shard in her chest that hurt the most, but that wasn¡¯t anything that the fox could fix.


    ¡°Stop looking at me like that. I¡¯m fine.¡±


    The room was set up to look exactly like the infirmary back at the shop. There were imaginary beds, imaginary curtains, imaginary supplies, and even an imaginary doctor. Said doctor, of course, was the fox, who had put on a hat that sported a red cross right before her favourite person walked through the door. Her haste had left the hat a little lopsided, and careless as she was, the fox didn¡¯t quite seem to notice. Deciding that she liked it better as it was, the patient refrained from describing the error aloud.


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ you don¡¯t look fine to me.¡± Sylvia pointed at a gurney, but Claire didn¡¯t sit down until she put her paws on her hips and released an audible huff. ¡°What the heck even happened to your arm and your tail anyway? I thought your scales were supposed to be tough enough to take a few hits.¡±


    ¡°They are,¡± said Claire. ¡°All of this was from recoil. I used too much magic.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not even surprised.¡± Sylvia said the words in a singsongy voice and invoked her healing spell. With Claire¡¯s health pool inflated post-ascension, the magic was not quite as quick to heal her wounds, but the missing limbs and the corresponding third of her health were still fairly rapidly restored; the light that enveloped her body formed into its missing parts before blinking out of existence and leaving only her flesh behind.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Claire scratched the bridge of the fox¡¯s nose.


    ¡°You really need to take better care of yourself.¡± The furball inspected Claire again before crawling into her lap and leaning against her stomach.


    Almost habitually, Claire wrapped her arms around the critter¡¯s chest and pulled her just a little bit closer. ¡°You worry too much. Everything went according to plan.¡±


    That, of course, was a lie. The original plan was to kill the centaur with the physical damage alone. The spell was nothing but a contingency, but somehow, he had survived even that. She had nearly panicked when he started walking towards her; she was lucky that Boris¡¯ health drain had sufficed to finish the job.


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ Claire? What you¡¯re saying and what you''re thinking don¡¯t really match up.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you''re talking about.¡± Claire squeezed the fox just a little bit harder.


    ¡°Yes, you totally do!¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t.¡± Claire turned her eyes away, only to stop her hands as she spotted a raccoon on the windowsill.


    ¡°Sorry, didn¡¯t mean to interrupt.¡± The rat held up a scroll. It wasn¡¯t the garden variety that one could quite find anywhere, but rather a high-quality page reserved for the likes of a noble house. ¡°But there¡¯s something you¡¯ll want to see.¡± The letter was stamped with an awfully clear seal¡ªthe southernmost marquis¡¯ mark. ¡°You¡¯ve made an enemy of the Pollux march. And it turns out our dear friend Marquis Ephesus has been so kind as to share a bunch of information on the nameless knight.¡± He crossed his feet and leaned back against the window¡¯s frame. ¡°They¡¯re coming for you, battlecruisers, gladiators, and all.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Claire balled her talons into fists. ¡°Saves me the time of hunting down his kin.¡±


    ¡°Not good. With how much you struggled against one cloudrunner, I¡¯m more inclined to believe the opposite,¡± said Panda. ¡°You¡¯ve only about a week before you run into each other. Most of the Marquis¡¯ personal forces died with Tornatus, but it¡¯s not like that was his only major city. You¡¯re up against an army this time, and their commanders have still got the strength to back it.¡± The raccoon narrowed his eyes into a glare. ¡°Fighting isn¡¯t gonna cut it, especially not if you keep going the way you are.¡±


    Claire refrained from responding aloud.


    The raccoon might not have been in favour, but the fight was one that she had long picked.


    She didn¡¯t care how she did it or who she involved.


    His brood would pay the due it owed.

 Chapter 342 - Debts and Dues VI

    Chapter 342 - Debts and Dues VI


    Virillius pressed a hand to his brow and lightly massaged his temples as he shifted a report from one pile to another. He was so tired that he fantasized about abandoning his post and feigning illness in bed, but he knew that such tactics would bring no long-term relief. The fault lay with their system of government. While other countries allowed officials to finalize policies relevant to their areas of expertise, Cadria placed its trust in the crown alone. Virillius was the only person authorized to make decisions whose influence directly crossed provincial lines.


    He had assumed that learning more about the various topics would bolster his ability to understand them, only to discover, upon scrutinizing the associated material, that he had wandered down a rabbit hole and a half. Understanding his people¡¯s arguments only made it more difficult to decipher the bills and their intentions. The nobility was a mess of landmines that even the lightest step could trigger; he pined for the time when he was just a simple duke. Alas, said time had passed. He had no choice but to begrudgingly return to his work.


    The king read through a report concerning the overuse of the Aniere River, a bill arguing for increased taxes on weaponry, and a proposal for a law that expanded protections for patents and trademarks before dropping his stamp and pressing his hands against his temples. The next document in the pile was one of Ephesus¡¯ updates. That, in and of itself, was no source of trouble, but the contents filled the cervitaur¡¯s mind with pain. The mad goat was entirely convinced that the nameless, horned knight (read: his daughter) was in fact his brother. His report was ten pages long and was mainly comprised of further analysis that detailed the similarities between her mana and his own.


    His team was clearly putting in a lot of work, but their conclusion was wrong and their efforts were wasted. He would have liked Ephesus to direct his labour elsewhere, but he was unable to come up with a suitable excuse. He surely would have asked for the analysis had he suspected his brother¡¯s intervention.


    He was not explicitly covering Claire¡¯s tracks. Benefiting his daughter was simply a side effect that came with his perfect facade; he needed the fake¡ªRubia, as they called her¡ªto play her part for as long as she could.


    Though he wanted to leave the scheming goat to his misguided machinations, Ephesus¡¯ fervour was starting to get out of hand. He was piling resource after resource into ¡°Constantius¡¯¡± elimination, and he was sure to complain upon discovering that the king had the truth all along. Of course, Virillius could have simply played dumb, but he did not believe Ephesus enough of a fool to fall for the act; his only choice was to prepare adequate compensation and pray that it tempered the marquis¡¯ anger. Fortunately, it seemed that Ephesus was not bearing the burden by himself, given that he had managed to sic Pollux¡¯s army upon his foe.


    It was a mystery as to how the goat had even convinced the dead centaur¡¯s men to sortie. Virillius had gone out of his way to instate one of Pollux¡¯s less respected and loyal retainers as the new marquis, and yet, the territory had moved its forces in a bid for revenge regardless. It simply didn¡¯t make sense.


    Just like the enigma that had silently entered his office.


    He had known that she was coming. He had detected her as she had possessed the doll and followed her through the castle as she made her way towards him. Her ability to possess the fake¡¯s body was one that had always thoroughly confused him. He suspected it had something to do with the strange magic that she so often employed, but it was difficult to say for certain.


    She was unwilling to make use of its features, but having forced it out of her often enough, he had arrived at the conclusion that it was gravity-adjacent. Gravity magic was already considered an impossibly rare advancement. It was a branch of earth magic that had an abysmally small chance of appearing in place of a traditional evolution. Because it was so powerful, the unique school was highly coveted; scholars throughout history had invested an inordinate amount of time into identifying its method of acquisition, and they had eventually narrowed it down to an unfortunate truth.


    Like coloured magic, necromancy, and many other elusive abilities, it was reserved for the innately compatible.


    ¡°Good evening, Claire.¡±


    ¡°Good evening, Father.¡±


    ¡°What is it this time?¡±


    He wouldn¡¯t have been all that surprised if she had an even more advanced version of the class that required a specific attunement. Everyone had some potential or other, hidden deep inside. Finding that something simply came down to the luck of the draw.


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind leaving, if you think I¡¯m a nuisance.¡±


    ¡°You know that isn¡¯t what I meant,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯d never come to me without reason.¡±


    ¡°Because I hate you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m well aware.¡± Not even the slightest bit fazed, he answered with his usual icy look.


    There was a brief pause, but Claire soon broke the silence. ¡°When can you step away? For training.¡±


    Virillius briefly glanced at the report on his desk. The request almost seemed too perfectly timed for it to be anything but planned, but he dismissed the absurd conjecture as soon as it came to mind. She couldn¡¯t have possibly known. The paper had just been placed on his desk that morning, and the scenario was too outlandish to have been predicted. He almost wanted to laugh at himself for even considering it.


    Evidently, he was in need of a break.


    ¡°Now is fine.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    She vacated the fake¡¯s body and returned in her own after a brief delay. She was accompanied by her usual escort, as well as one of Vella¡¯s spawn. While the spider walked on its own legs, the demon was sitting on her head as always, its eyes more curious than guarded.


    Her advent, of course, was followed by the usual ceremony. Rubia exchanged hugs with Claire and the demon before vanishing alongside the latter. The trick had worked wonders on the western marquis¡¯ men, but in the royal house, it was a petty disguise. Virillius knew that his agents could see through it, and the demon seemed to be aware as well. The only reason no one said anything was because the king¡¯s guards believed that he was effectively invulnerable.


    Having visited nearly two dozen times already, Claire already knew exactly where to go. Dressed in a fresh suit of armour¡ªa dark red suit that featured a lizard-like motif¡ªshe led them to one of the private courtyards where they could conduct their business.


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    She grabbed one of the glaives from the nearby rack, took up the usual pose, and prepared to go through her forms, but Virillius stopped her before she could.


    ¡°Do the forms in your own time. You¡¯ve learned them well enough,¡± he said. There wasn¡¯t any time for them to waste on rudimentary refinement, not with Ephesus¡¯ schemes as they were. ¡°Today¡¯s lesson will differ from the usual fare.¡± Rather than grabbing a copy of her weapon, he reached for an extra large shieldlance, tailor-made for a moose of his size. ¡°Your goal is simple. Survive.¡±


    He flew through the courtyard as the words left his mouth. Propelled by wings of blood, he closed the distance so quickly that she was unable to react. Though his weapon was made of wood, he would have lopped her head clean off if he hadn¡¯t slowed the blade the moment it touched her. The violent strike became a light tap with just enough force to break through her armour and damage the tissue within.


    ¡°One,¡± he said.


    Shooting him a look of irritation, she immediately righted her crumpled posture and thrust her weapon toward his midsection, but he repelled it with a flick of his own and tapped her over the head again.


    ¡°Two.¡±


    She, of course, jumped into another assault. It was almost endearing, how she struggled. Staring at his eyes, she predicted his third attack. But while her weapon certainly moved to guard her flank, it was too slow to close the distance. There was another light hit, followed by another failed attack, and yet another slow guard.


    ¡°Three.¡±


    Of course, it was all by design. Having already determined her maximum speed, Virillius operated just a little bit beyond it. Over and over he struck, shaving off just enough of her health that she would feel like she was in danger. He could see it through her eyes.


    Her mind was being put to work.


    She was trying to learn, trying to adapt. She really was just like him. Her abilities, her classes, and even her uninstructed approach. It felt like he was looking into a mirror that reflected the distant past.


    The feeling only grew stronger when the shape of her body changed. Perhaps having realized that she was too slow to use her stature, she sprouted a centaurian lower body and another pair of legs to match. Her particulars were somewhat abnormal. Like her hands, her front legs were more bird-like than centaurian, featuring sharp claws ready to gouge at his flesh.


    Her speed itself was unaffected, but the added weight of her body allowed her to take his attacks without being knocked off balance. That in turn led to quicker reactions. She nearly parried his thirtieth strike. It would have been a perfect block had he not further bolstered his speed.


    It didn¡¯t show on her face, but he could tell that her frustration was building. Each subsequent parry was even faster and more careless than the last. One was so far off angle that it was unable to catch the attack. Or at least that was what he thought until he suddenly felt his arm pushed up by a mysterious force. He could have easily suppressed it, but curious, he allowed the ability to raise his lance and perfectly line it up with her blade.


    Virillius had to fight back the urge to chuckle. It was the most amusing thing. She was so caught up in meeting his weapon that she had ignored the opportunity to counter; she could have displaced his hand in another direction whilst retaliating with a strike of her own. But she was too smug to care. He could see it through the rebellious look that radiated through her eyes.


    Of course, he was not so foolish as to allow her celebration. Moving just one front leg, he kicked her in the chest. His jagged hoof cleaved right through her armour and dug into her solar plexus. But interestingly enough, she was not the only one to bleed.


    A strange, freezing blade dug into his fur and tore at his flesh. When he pulled his foot away, he found his wound half-frozen. There were bits of ice lodged between his toes, tiny shards that only gouged his feet when he tried to crush them.


    True ice.


    A chuckle escaped his lips. He couldn¡¯t stop it from inching its way up his throat. A deep, disquieting laugh.


    He had known that she could use it. Her access to divinity made that immediately clear. But he hadn¡¯t thought that she had an elemental power source buried right into her body. And the lack of side effects meant she had clearly acclimated to it already.


    Deciding to test the extent of its assimilation, he knocked away the blade that was aimed at his throat and drew a string of blood from his open wound. By tracing his fingers through the air, he ordered the crimson fluid to move like a whip, to race towards her flank at a speed that made it impossible to evade. He was confident that he had given her enough time to react. But perhaps because she was so thick-headed, or perhaps because her ice magic was slower to cast, she pressed on with the intent of giving up a limb.


    By all means, that should have been the end result. His whip was driven straight through her upper arm. But upon making contact, he found that it stuck on something that couldn¡¯t be cut. He would have accepted it if it was her armour. The outfit¡¯s physical defence was minimal at best, and he wouldn¡¯t have been too surprised if it was more magically inclined. But it was not her armour. His whip ate right through the metal and dug through her flesh. So what then was the thing that stopped him? The answer was clear, even though he had only time for the briefest of glances.


    It was a bone. A blue bone that shared the same translucent nature as the blade in her chest.


    Again, the cervitaur laughed. He almost couldn¡¯t believe it, so he attacked again just to be sure. Faster. Faster than she could see. Faster than she could take a step. In that tiny fraction of a second, he struck a dozen times and confirmed everything he saw. Her hips were the same. Her legs were the same. Her ribs were the same. Her skull was the same. Every bone in his daughter¡¯s body had been replaced with an identical structure made out of true ice. The only way to remove her limbs was to saw perfectly between her joints before she could react and redirect the action off course.


    She must have had the ability to manipulate it as well.


    He was convinced. There was no doubt in his mind. So drawing even more blood from his wound, he crafted a crimson torrent¡ªa tidal wave that could not be dodged¡ªand crashed it down upon her.


    She barely reacted in time. Stopping her charge, she threw up a spherical shield and endured the bloody downpour. It continued to hold as he swirled the blood around and transformed it into a vortex of tiny cutting blades. Unsurprisingly, the shield even continued to endure when he mingled his divinity into the whirlpool¡¯s composition.


    He stopped his attack and cocked a brow when it suddenly shattered nearly a dozen seconds earlier than his calculations foretold. But a look at his daughter revealed the reason. There was something terribly wrong with her magical circuitry. The supposed pathways were glowing under her skin, visible in a way that they should have never been, lest they were subject to extreme duress. And that wasn¡¯t all. They weren¡¯t just visible. They were visibly damaged.


    There were hundreds of tiny breakages scattered all over her body, and the seemingly unbroken pieces suffered from a variety of different maladies. Some had issues with energy transportation and leaked mana into the surrounding flesh. Some had clogs and unwanted dilations, leading to an uneven flow. And others yet were simply distorted, twisted completely out of shape and haphazardly rearranged.


    It came as no surprise that she nearly collapsed from the magical exertion. Her legs shook, even as she stabbed her sword into the ground and heaped most of her weight on top of it. Her mana was leaking into her muscles and disrupting their function, perhaps even ripping them apart whilst engraving their fibres with formulae. It was a nasty condition. He had no clue when exactly she had gotten it, but he doubted that it would be going away for the foreseeable future.


    Shaking his head, he lowered his weapon and retrieved his blood. As it couldn¡¯t quite go back into his veins, given that it was already contaminated and replaced, he compressed it into a tiny orb and captured it in one of the capsules that always hung from his waist.


    ¡°I would have arrived at a different solution if you informed me of your condition,¡± he said. ¡°Go rest. Come back once your body has recovered.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°You have a solution? To this?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± He paused briefly before speaking a line that, for some inexplicable reason, visibly got under his daughter¡¯s skin. ¡°But I do have a plan.¡±

 Chapter 343 - Debts and Dues VII

    Chapter 343 - Debts and Dues VII


    109833 - 1 - 2 - 9


    Dear Diary,


    Tomorrow is going to be our last day in Paunse. Master says that we¡¯re crossing the border around noon. I thought that there was going to be an official process where we had to fill out all sorts of super complicated papers, but apparently, it isn¡¯t really that hard. Master says we can pretty much walk across without telling anyone.


    Master said that Fornestead is the land of giants. He says that the food is good and that the portions are huge. Apparently, their pies are as tall as I am and ten times as wide. I can¡¯t wait to see them in person.


    Lia


    ___


    Knowing that it was still raining down south, and that she would likely heal by evening, Claire decided to spend the rest of the day within Valencia¡¯s bounds. She began by visiting her usual perch. Fox, homunculus, and for some odd reason Starrgort in tow, she assumed her humanoid form, ascended the airspace above the castle, and made her way up to Augustus Manor.


    Officially, she was assigned as Rubia¡¯s guard; the replacement had been excused from her duties for the rest of the day and her usual protector was given the same message. The rare bit of leniency only raised Claire¡¯s suspicions. Her father wasn¡¯t the type to allow the forsaking of duties, though in Rubia¡¯s case, one could certainly argue that it was well deserved. Unlike the original, who had struggled in all things academic, she was a model student. She sucked up knowledge like a sponge and found interest in nearly every type of material. Even Allegra had labelled her as a student worth teaching¡ªa descriptor that Claire herself had lost during her second month of tutelage.


    There were objections, of course. Durham had very audibly complained about the mandatory vacation, and he had gone on to rant about outsiders and trust. But despite all of his rambling, his arguments fell on deaf ears. Claire walked right past him without even sparing him a look.


    At first glance, the manor was still largely operational, though its security wasn¡¯t quite as strict as it had been before. Case in point, the guards stationed at the entrance quickly backed off when they saw Rubia all smiles and allowed the group to pass through unchecked. It was a circumstance that would have been unthinkable before Virillius took the throne. They would have been inspected at least, and as a weapon, even one that had quite literally never seen use, Starrgort would have been forced to stand by until Claire was ready to leave. But evidently, her father had moved his base of operations.


    If the lowered security hadn¡¯t made that clear enough already, then the lack of trainees surely would have stood in contrast. Like the secure documents that Virillius managed day to day, House Augustus¡¯ military programs had been taken to the castle.


    It was really just the house¡¯s servants that had stayed behind. The gardeners were still maintaining the flowers and herbs that Allegra had sowed, while the butlers and maids were still working their hardest to keep the manor spick and span. Claire was tempted to think that Alice was still present at first, given that her house had been safeguarding her from her brother, but it didn¡¯t look like it from the servants¡¯ behaviour. There was no one to stand guard over the lady in question. The units by the gate and around the airspace were the only ones still present.


    Deciding to put off any further investigation, Claire led Rubia through the courtyard and towards the floating rock¡¯s furthest edge. There, together, they basked in the late summer wind and gazed down upon the city.


    No one said a word.


    Even Sylvia, who was being hugged by the fake, remained uncharacteristically silent as she gazed upon the scene, though that was nothing new. She was always quieter during their visits up north. Claire wasn¡¯t sure why, but in either case, it made no difference. Their eyes swept across the city, the province, and the distant mountains before returning to the familiar manor. They all knew that it was her childhood home, or at least all of them except for the spider holding up a web covered in symbols of confusion.


    ¡°I missed this place.¡± For once, the lyrkress decided to indulge the unwanted pest. She even picked him up and gently set him in her lap. It was mostly because she just wanted something to hug, and she was in too much pain to conjure up a block of ice. ¡°I never imagined I would. I always thought that I would¡¯ve been too scared to come back and face my father. But it turns out, I¡¯ve missed it dearly.¡±


    She closed her eyes, took a breath, and inched her body forward. And then, all of a sudden, she fell through the sky.


    A smile crossed her lips as the wind rushed through her hair.


    It wasn¡¯t her first time flying through the air above Valencia. But it was the first time she did with nothing left to constrain her.


    Perhaps tempted by the original¡¯s joy, Rubia soon followed suit. Still hugging Sylvia to her chest, she kicked off the edge and spun through the air, her eyes on the world beneath her.


    Claire didn¡¯t catch her until they were about to hit the ground. Spreading her wings wide, she neutralized the weight of the fall and carefully touched down on a random building. None of the locals were too surprised by the entrance. Winged centaurs made similar landings all the time, and even if it were rough, it still would have been better than a cottontail¡¯s descent; some were occasionally knocked off the floating castle in the midst of their training. The spider was the only one that she hadn¡¯t assisted, but he landed just as calmly with a parachute made of the usual silk.


    The lyrkress briefly glanced at the fake¡¯s face before hopping off the roof and heading into town. Rubia didn¡¯t cling to her guard or even reach for her hand, perhaps knowing that it was inappropriate for a lady of marriageable age to do so in public, but she still stuck close enough that their fingers would occasionally make contact.


    Together, they wandered the streets, randomly visiting all the shops and markets that happened to catch their eyes. They didn¡¯t say much. In fact, Rubia said nothing, but her smile was more than enough to soothe the lyrkress¡¯ pain.


    At some point during the trip, the pair switched pets. Claire was returned her fox, while Rubia borrowed the metal spider and spoiled it in the furball¡¯s place. Most of the day was spent wandering the town, but that wasn¡¯t to say that it was uneventful. They visited a bathhouse, spooked the king¡¯s chef, and escaped Durham¡¯s capture before heading back over to the palace right as the sun began to set. Durham aside, there were no unsavoury individuals that had dared to approach. They knew better than to touch the king¡¯s daughter with his assassins so frequently afoot. Even with a ransom negotiated, escaping unharmed remained a pipe dream.


    Claire was tempted to circumvent the usual formalities and fly her way to her father¡¯s quarters, but she changed her mind when she saw the maids gathered outside the castle¡¯s front door. There were too many familiar faces among them to be easily dismissed, so with no other choice, she reluctantly landed in the courtyard, ignored the confused guards, and walked with Rubia until they reached the retinue.


    ¡°Welcome back, Princess,¡± said Beatrice. The familiar thorae bowed to the fake whilst keeping an eye on the outsider. For Claire, it turned out to be quite the interesting scenario; her own hairdresser was sizing her up like a foe. ¡°His Majesty has asked for you to report to his personal dining hall with your guest in tow.¡±


    Some of the other maids had certainly joined Bea in staring the real Claire down, but unlike the strict thorae, their focus was more easily divided. Their eyes wandered before long, with most settling their gazes on one of the pets. Two or three of the oddballs eyed Starrgort, while the remaining dozen focused their attention on the fluffy fox.


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ Hi?¡± She tilted her head adorably, so adorably in fact that one of the maids nearly tripped over her dress.


    Beatrice, who by all means was a far better head maid than Chloe, tapped her foot against the paved brick and shot a glare at each distracted servant in turn. She didn¡¯t say a word, but the guilty members immediately stiffened up and returned to their previous positions.


    Claire almost wanted to giggle. Nothing had changed. The bug was just as much of a stickler for the rules as she had been with Mariabelle in charge. And perhaps that was why she found herself so tempted to tease her.


    ¡°You¡¯re being too hard on them, Bea.¡±


    ¡°I most certainly am not. If I¡¯m not going to be hard on them when we have guests, then I might as well resi¡ª¡± She quipped out of pure habit; the maid didn¡¯t realize that anything was amiss until she was two full sentences into her lecture. For some odd reason, it felt like there was something wrong, like the voice hadn¡¯t come from her lady¡¯s position. ¡°R-resign.¡± Still, being the upstanding professional that she was, she faked a cough, finished the sentence, and dismissed the oddity as a figment of her imagination.


    ¡°Maybe. But it¡¯s not unwarranted. Sylvia is the fuzziest and most adorable fox you¡¯ll ever find.¡±


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    ¡°W-what the heck, knock it off! You¡¯re making me blush!¡± said the furball in question.


    The thoraen maid furrowed her brow and twitched her stinger. She was clearly confused. The increased word count had only made it more obvious that Rubia was not the one to have spoken; Claire¡¯s voice was clearly muffled by her helmet¡¯s visor. But at the same time, it was so perfectly recognizable that it could never have belonged to an imposter.


    That was why she looked at Rubia. She stared intently at the homunculus, who innocently tilted her head and furthered Beatrice¡¯s confusion.


    And then, just to add fuel to the fire, Claire spoke again. While the maid was carefully observing her charge.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go. We shouldn¡¯t waste any more of Father¡¯s time.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ suppose not,¡± said the maid. ¡°Please follow me.¡± She spun around and immediately started mumbling under her breath. ¡°Should I take the rest of the day off? No, I can¡¯t. I don¡¯t trust the others to handle the guests. Was it because I hit my head when I fell down the stairs last night?¡±


    Barely stifling her laughter, Claire handed Sylvia to the maid who had tripped and stepped through the castle¡¯s halls. She had noticed it a few times before, but walking through the corridors in silence, without Rubia¡¯s thoughts to disturb her own, she found herself pondering a bizarre curiosity. Her father had refrained from swapping out the decor despite having slain the previous king over a personal grudge. There were still paintings and statues of her great-uncle spread all around the building. Frankly, she found their presence a mystery in and of itself. She had only met the man a few times herself, but she hadn¡¯t the impression that he was the type to gloat or immortalize his achievements.


    It took twenty minutes to reach their destination even at a fairly brisk pace. They passed through a number of hidden passageways, some of them necessary, others much less; the maids exercised caution with a supposed outsider present and walked a much longer route than was otherwise required. And that, Claire suspected, was why the food was already plated by the time of their arrival.


    The twelve-person table was covered from head to toe in food, and Virillius was already sitting at its head. It was an odd development. Dinner had never been a part of the lyrkress¡¯ plan, and she knew that her father had no time to waste on such pointless and trivial affairs. He only ever ate with Rubia when guests were present. And even then, it was only an act; he assumed the guise of a family man to those who placed such values first.


    Claire was not one of those people. There was no reason for her father to waste his time with a silly facade, nor any reason for him to waste hers before presenting his solution. But in either case, she remained silent and waited until the servants were dismissed. The maid that was holding Sylvia tried to take her out of the room whilst saying something or other about a dish of milk, but the salivating fox squeezed herself out of the disappointed rabbit¡¯s grasp and darted to her pet¡¯s side.


    ¡°Take a seat,¡± said Virillius, once the door was closed behind them.


    Still shooting daggers out of her eyes, the caldriess retracted her helmet and walked over to one of the open chairs. She sat right next to her father whilst forcing the mechanical spider onto the opposite side. She hated it, but it was the only way to keep the fox and the homunculus out of the moose king¡¯s reach.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to be so wary,¡± he said, with a laugh.


    ¡°Why not?¡± she spat, ¡°Because you¡¯re not going to be ordering my death today?¡±


    ¡°No, that will have to be next week.¡±


    Sylvia was the only one to laugh at his joke. Claire rolled her eyes, unamused, while the other two were left confused.


    Perhaps slightly disappointed by the result, Virillius brushed it off and gestured at the food. ¡°We can talk while we eat. You will need all of your energy for the struggle to come.¡±


    Claire frowned, but retrieved a piece of steak off the central platter regardless. It had been a long time since she had eaten Valencian beef. They had bought some of it in town while they were out during the day, but it was still raw, unlike the perfectly seared servings that had migrated to her plate.


    ¡°Simply put, my solution is for you to make yourself unmatched in close combat,¡± said her father.


    ¡°That¡¯s easier said than done,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°Perhaps if you were to take the traditional approach.¡± He paused for a moment to take a bite of duck. ¡°But it just so happens that there is a shortcut.¡± There was a devilish smile on the man¡¯s face. His eyes were as bright as the moon and his lips as curved as its crescent.


    ¡°Stop being so needlessly cryptic and tell me already.¡±


    Her father laughed. ¡°What do you know of Vella¡¯s servants?¡±


    The lyrkress narrowed her eyes. ¡°I will never accept Vella¡¯s aid.¡±


    ¡°And I am not asking you to,¡± said Virillius. ¡°I am asking you what you know of her servants.¡±


    Claire sighed. It was a pointless question¡ªthere wasn¡¯t a Cadrian child that didn¡¯t know the answer¡ªbut seeing the firm look on her father¡¯s face, she reluctantly regurgitated the lessons she learned.


    ¡°She has two types of servants, heroic spirits and immortal champions. The spirits are dead warriors. She claims their souls in death and takes them up to her halls, where they are honoured as heroes to be called to battle again. The immortal champions are the celestials and lesser gods that aid in carrying out her duties.¡±


    It was a textbook answer. There was even an accompanying song to name some of the heroes, celestials, and gods, but Claire was not childish enough to sing it.


    ¡°That is correct,¡± said her father, ¡°but it is also not entirely correct. Have you never stopped to wonder why it is only Vella that we worship? And why she is always depicted alone?¡±


    Claire paused for a moment to think. She had visited the spider a number of times already, but while she had certainly seen her kidnapped heroes, none of the supposed lesser gods had appeared in the goddess¡¯ domain. But that was also true of all the others. She didn¡¯t know too much about Flux, Tzaarkus, or even the god of abyssal depths, but Flitzegarde had appeared by her lonesome, despite having a whole retinue of true deities at her beck and call. The feline goddess was often depicted to be working alongside or lording over her servants. The texts and art pieces flaunted by her temples and theirs had them joining hands for the betterment of others.


    ¡°They were her enemies,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Correct,¡± said her father. He set down his utensils and looked right after. ¡°What do you think has happened to them, knowing that they are no longer worshipped?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I know! I know!¡± said the fox. ¡°Sh¡ª¡±


    An entire duck breast was thrown into the fox¡¯s mouth before she could elaborate. She caught Virillius off guard by swallowing it without chewing, but he recovered from the brief moment and shot her a frosty glare.


    ¡°I was asking Claire.¡±


    ¡°Awwww¡­¡±


    The lyrkress considered the options as she treated herself to another three pieces of steak. Her intuition dictated something along the lines of murder. It was the most effective way of ensuring that a fallen foe would never oppose her again. But it was unlikely. Not only was Vella too dumb to select an optimal solution, the manner in which the question was presented suggested that an alternative was chosen.


    ¡°She imprisoned them.¡±


    ¡°Correct again,¡± he said. A small smile on his lips, he drew a dagger from his waist and stabbed it into the table. ¡°Final question. What do you think this does?¡±


    He twisted the blade before Claire answered and filled the hall with a burst of blinding divinity. When she opened her eyes again, the caldriess found that almost everything was gone. The dinner table, Sylvia, Rubia, and her meal. All of it had suddenly vanished. Starrgort and her father were the only two still present, sitting together in the dark, empty chamber.


    It took her eyes a brief moment to adjust, but she soon identified it as something of a circular gaol almost shaped like a small arena. Embedded within the walls, beneath the ten-meter ceiling, were cells lined with thick bars made of the same metal as the familiar spider, and within them, people and weapons bound with magical chains. There were no names to indicate the prisoners¡¯ identities, but each solitary unit was marked with a two-digit number, some repeating, others not.


    Her father stood up from his seat and paced over to one of the cages in question. Within it sat a redheaded elf with every part of his body restrained. Though it was difficult to see his face with his mouth bound and his eyes blindfolded, he seemed to be on the younger side. He was larger than Sylvia¡¯s father, at least, but his tiny frame was no taller or wider than her own. More interesting were the tattoos that ran all over his body. They were the same as the ones that covered his blade. Familiar characters, like the ones used by the phantom in her dreams. She should have known the language, but she couldn¡¯t read the words. The elf¡¯s characters were arranged in nonsensical strings, with added accents and scribbles all over.


    ¡°They are weakened,¡± he said, as he inserted the dagger into the lock. ¡°They are affected by a more powerful version of the principle that drives Vella¡¯s trial. Your ability score total will be exactly the same, and they have further restrictions that prevent them from using their world-bending powers.¡±


    She intuitively knew that the claim was true. She could tell from their presence. But that didn¡¯t stop the shiver that ran its way up the length of her spine.


    Even bound, the divinity they radiated was still far greater than hers.


    ¡°I will return in three days,¡± said her father. ¡°You have two choices. Master his technique or die. He will be out for blood.¡±


    He twisted the key twice.


    Once to unleash the prisoner.


    And then again to leave her behind.


    The chains that held the captive god began to break apart. One by one, they broke and snapped, unsealing the warrior within.


    Starrgort changed as the process neared its halfway point. He scuttled towards her, and closing his eyes, assumed the shape of the jagged sword that lay at the chained elf¡¯s feet.


    She drew her weapon.


    As her opponent drew his.


    Log Entry 850216


    You have received a quest - Vella¡¯s Call (1)


    Primary Objective: Survive the shadow of Victor Redleaf, God of Riven Blades for 72 hours.


    Reward:


    - 25000 points of divinity


    - A 1% modifier to all ability scores applied after all other calculations.


    There was no time to breathe.


    He was already upon her.

 Chapter 344 - Hubris

    Chapter 344 - Hubris


    The elf began with a lunge. He kicked off the ground and propelled his body across the tiny arena. Claire had expected the god to be fleet of foot, to close the distance and deliver a blow at a speed that far surpassed her father¡¯s.


    But there was no such life-threatening event.


    He proceeded at an almost leisurely pace and swung his blade at a speed that even a child could match. The attack was as telegraphed as it was slow. He simply raised his weapon overhead and brought it down in a perfect line.


    There was a spray of blood.


    She didn¡¯t know how it happened.


    She was certainly capable of processing the moment his blade bit into her skin. She saw all the details clearly. And yet, she struggled to understand how it was that he had managed to reach her. Her parry was perfect. She had raised her sword just in time to block his attack, and she had correctly estimated the lacklustre force delivered by his lanky arms.


    And yet, her guard was circumvented.


    It wasn¡¯t like he had overpowered her. Her arms had certainly been moved out of the way, but it was a faint pressure that displaced them¡ªa faint pressure that left her wide open to attack.


    The tip of his blade passed right through her armour. It didn¡¯t cleave it in two. In fact, it bypassed the metal altogether. The sword slipped right between the joints and prodded at her flesh directly.


    The wound was shallow, befitting the snail¡¯s pace at which it had been delivered.


    But that was only all the more reason for the lack of sense.


    Another clash followed right after the first. She was more wary during their second encounter, entirely to no avail. Again, their blades met. And again, her defence was completely negated. His sword danced through her mysteriously broken guard and shot towards her foot. He would have drawn blood again had his speed been less modest; taking a step back to widen the distance, Claire escaped his range unharmed.


    She went on the offensive as soon as she hit the ground. She flapped her wings and launched herself like an arrow. Her aim was his neck. She knew from his previous demonstration that his sword was too slow to catch her. She could slit his throat by the time he raised it into position.


    Her assumption was not strictly incorrect.


    He wasn¡¯t fast enough to perform a traditional parry.


    And that was why he matched her blade with his hilt.


    He blocked the attack with seemingly no effort and nearly stabbed her in the tail as he whipped his body around. Again, it was only her superior speed that saved her from harm.


    There wasn¡¯t enough room in the ring for her to make much distance. Though he was only half her speed, he was upon her by the time she nulled her momentum and spun around. Again, they clashed. And again, she found her swordsmanship defeated.


    Claire flicked her tongue as his first strike linked right into a second. She opened an extra thirty eyes as their blades flashed through the musty chamber. Two sat on her neck, while the rest lined the length of her tail and provided her a better view of the elf and his actions.


    That was how she discovered his ploy. Her wrists had started to yield even before their weapons met.


    All thanks to the hand not wielding his weapon.


    It was difficult to tell through her armour. Contact was brief, impossibly so. He only moved the limb when he swung his sword and dragged her attention towards its blade. While her focus was stolen, his filthy fingers slipped through a natural blind spot and gained free access to her joints. They lightly pushed down on her wrist as she swung and completely threw off the angle.


    Without any extra eyes, it would have been impossible to detect.


    She attacked his wrist during their next trade; she swiped with her tail, so she would at least displace it if she failed to break it outright. But the man''s hand went completely untouched. Though she was the snake in the equation, his motions were far more serpentine; his hand slithered right past her defences and relocated her blade with ease again.


    The caldriess could only groan as his weapon skittered up her metal skirt and hacked away at her legs. She was lucky. Unable to see through her armour, or his blindfold for that matter, he had struck a patch of scale that his blade was unable to pierce. Claire nearly transformed when the realization hit her. His physical abilities were, frankly, pathetic. His strength was maybe a fifth of her own, and he secured his advantage by exploiting the humanoid nature of her limbs and weapons. She could have easily defeated him by assuming her true form and crushing the supposed god underfoot.


    But that would only have defeated the purpose.


    Her goal was to steal his masterful technique, or at least the principle that drove it.


    So she continued to meet him head-on. Each time, she tried something different with her tail and her hands. But each time, her defence would crumble. Never able to outmaneuver his fingers, she had to fall back to prevent any lasting damage to her body. Of course, she was not without her own deception. Her armour was a runecloak. She adjusted its structure whenever he found a weakness to keep him on his toes.


    There were even a few moments where she thought well of her performance, a few moments where she forgot that she was fighting a god, even if one that was heavily restrained. And a few moments where she forgot that she was being tested.


    It was then, when her guard was at its lowest, that he suddenly changed the pace.


    Divinity poured from his body. A wild mass of raw power, a thousand times greater than he had shown in his prior state. He could have easily put it into his arms and cleaved her right in half. But the god did no such thing. He focused it on the chains instead, particularly, the bindings around his throat and mouth. It was a confusing choice. If anything, Claire would have thought that he would free his eyes, but his rationale was revealed as soon as he cleared his throat.


    His voice was laced with magic. Blessed, holy magic.


    A dry laugh escaped Claire''s throat.


    The sound bounced off the walls and filled the room with his presence, demonstrating that it was not his dexterity that had eaten the bulk of his ability scores. His skew was like her own. But sharper, even more heavily distorted towards the mystic arts.


    The song''s familiarity was its only saving grace. She recognized it vaguely as something Sylvia often sang, as a song that every Redleaf elf she had ever met was capable of reproducing. She recognized the way the world distorted, the way the wind picked up, and the way the once-missing trees wept beneath the blackened sky. There was one difference, however. The technique she encountered was not the derivative adapted for mortal hands, but the original score penned for the truly divine.


    His body was the most apparent distinction. Rather than retaining his elven shape, the man had become one of the trees that littered the ancient forest. He was distinguishable only for the blade that hung from his branches and the ragged remains of the shirt atop his trunk. The man had become the willow his song embodied. And yet, even without a humanoid body, he still continued to sing. The wind was his voice. It flowed through his branches and formed a whistling tune, easily audible above the raging monsoon. If anything, the pitters and patters only served to enhance the performance. The raindrops were the drums that carried his thundering beat, the harmony that pushed his melody to the forefront and echoed it throughout her mind.


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    It was so powerful that she felt like she would lose herself within it. And in a sense, that was exactly what had happened. His domain had swallowed her whole. She had become another random object under his sphere of influence, another nameless speck forced to obey his rules.


    She had no time to mull over the accompanying implications. The tree swung its bladed arm as soon as the realm was formed. The blade¡¯s arc was easily predictable. It carved through the rain at the same slow pace that the elf had previously demonstrated. It should have been an easy parry, but she nearly missed the timing. Her body was sluggish, and incredibly so.


    She was so slow that she couldn¡¯t avoid the tree¡¯s roots as they burst from the ground and grabbed her feet, nor could she stop another branch from reaching for her hands. She countered it with a vector; a magical push realigned her weapon with his own, but even then, she found that she was unable to drive him back.


    It was not his newfound weight, nor a boost to his strength.


    But rather the effect of his ability.


    The heavy rain that fell upon her back completely neutered her speed. It was not a linear or even a percentage reduction. But rather, the inability to move any faster than the realm¡¯s master.


    The lightning that fell upon the battlefield drained her strength with every strike. All the power she had in excess of his own was simply sapped away.


    The wind that played his whistling branches would surely have stolen her magic had it not fallen short of the absurd quantity that the deity possessed.


    Every numerical advantage she held was completely and utterly suppressed.


    Only her skills remained.


    But they would do.


    By stealing his health, she had already withered his roots and patched up her bleeding wounds.


    The damage that he had suffered, on the other hand, remained exactly as it was.


    It was a clear sign.


    She would win a battle of endurance.


    ___


    ¡°What the heck did you do to Claire!?¡±


    Virillius was greeted with an angry snarl immediately upon his return. The demon, his daughter¡¯s transporter, was standing on top of her plate with her tail puffed up and her fangs exposed.


    The hellspawn''s raw fury sent a shiver up his spine. It had been years, decades since he had last been confronted with such raw power and animosity. He had almost forgotten the feeling. He could tell at a glance. He had loosely surmised it when her guard was down, but observing her again, in her state of rage, confirmed that she was undoubtedly an aspect.


    His skin was tight with goosebumps, and the hairs all over his body were raised. During their previous encounters, his race''s inbuilt ability had only rated her to be a little more dangerous than Ferdinand and Ragnar. But it had been throwing up red flags ever since that morning. Something about her had changed. It was still unlikely that she would defeat him, but his instincts warned that it wasn''t impossible if he didn''t keep on his toes. Fortunately, she didn''t attack immediately. She was still willing to talk in spite of the otherwise aggressive display.


    "I took her to a proving ground," he answered, calmly.


    The fox did something. It was impossible for him to determine exactly what it was; the accompanying magical pulse was so faint that he surely would have missed it had his horns been any less sensitive. From her reaction, it was likely some sort of detection magic. She must have either searched their vicinity or perhaps checked his words for truth through less primitive means than his own. But whatever the case, it only fueled the fox''s flame.


    "You sent her to die!" cried the vixen. The space between them cracked open like a fissure in the earth. It was the same type of temporal rift through which they often arrived. And its destination was clear. Somehow, even without a key, the demon had gained access to Vella''s domain.


    "Do not interrupt her.¡±


    Virillius had no way of closing the portal. His dagger¡ªhis key¡ªwas incapable of manipulating spacetime. Its only functions were to warp the war goddess¡¯ chosen and to answer her call. The only way he had to stop her was to place his body in front of the gate, even knowing the conflict that his actions had the potential to drive.


    "It''s for her own good," he said.


    The demon shot him another glare. He didn''t have much practice with reading the expressions of canines, but it didn''t look like she believed him until her magic faintly pulsed again.


    "Is it really?"


    "Yes."


    Another pulse, followed by another change in the demon''s demeanour.


    She slowly relaxed her body and unbristled her tail. She wasn''t entirely off guard. Her eyes were still filled with suspicion, and her back was still somewhat arched, but she put her teeth away and cautiously returned to her seat. The tear vanished as well, with the room returning to its unfractured state.


    "Given the length of your acquaintanceship, you must understand already," he said, "that this is the only method she would be willing to accept.¡±


    The demon reluctantly nodded in agreement.


    ¡°I am at least fairly confident that she will not die,¡± said Virillius, ¡°assuming that she¡¯s only as incapable as I¡¯ve come to believe.¡±


    Sylvia scrutinized the man again as she slowly ate her way through a red bell pepper. ¡°Why do you always act like you¡¯re disappointed in her?¡±


    ¡°Because I am. She¡¯s my daughter. She shouldn¡¯t be so easily broken.¡± He paused as he raised a glass of wine and lightly swirled it around. ¡°I do understand how she feels,¡± he chuckled, ¡°most of the time, at least. I never expected her to grow a spine only after I gave up on her education. If I¡¯d known, I would have acted earlier.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re horrible!¡± cried the hellspawn. ¡°What the heck is wrong with you!?¡±


    ¡°The very same things that are wrong with her,¡± he said. ¡°Surely you can see it, yes? She is my daughter through and through.¡±


    Sylvia pursed her lips.


    ¡°If there¡¯s anyone to criticize,¡± continued Virillius, ¡°it¡¯s you, for trying to make her out to be someone that she isn¡¯t.¡±


    Another magical pulse. With so much exposure, Virillius easily solved the problem. She was using some sort of spell that allowed her to read his mind. It was rather subtle, but every pulse was accompanied by a change in the colour of her eyes. They turned a slightly brighter shade for roughly one-hundredth of a second, presumably the amount of time she required to gather the information she needed.


    But even knowing that, he didn¡¯t bother concealing his thoughts.


    It didn¡¯t matter. He was already speaking his mind.


    ¡°But I suppose that¡¯s only par for the course, for a demon.¡±


    By strict definition, a demon was any creature that had ever consumed the soul of another. They could easily be identified by individuals with enough divinity; the exact requirement was unclear, but from his own experience Virillius suspected that the minimum was somewhere in the lower seven-digit range. Though extremely efficient for growing more powerful, the act of devouring another individual¡¯s essence was considered to be minor blasphemy. There was no true penalty per se, only a certain goddess that apparently despised all demonic creatures. Her distaste melded through the system, changing the quality of a guilty individual¡¯s mana.


    Said goddess had no place in Cadria, but even then, there still was a reluctance to accept and trust their kind. It was a terrifying thought for many to consider true death. The system and its cycles, at least, had a chance of eventually fulfilling dreams undelivered in life.


    ¡°What exactly is a creature like you doing by my daughter¡¯s side? Are you simply waiting for her to marinate, so you might consume her essence when it is ripe?¡±


    Virillius shot her a cold, hostile glare, but Sylvia only tilted her head. ¡°Uhhh¡­ are you sure you¡¯re not blind? I mean, I know her divinity kinda covers it up, but Claire¡¯s eaten like ten times as many souls as me. She had like a whole city¡¯s worth that one time.¡±


    A tiny smile appeared on the moose¡¯s face. ¡°I was not aware that divinity is capable of masking the scent.¡±


    Sylvia covered her mouth with her paws. ¡°Oh crap.¡± She quickly looked around the room for a way to change the topic, but the only thing she happened to see was Rubia stuffing her face. ¡°So uhmmm¡­ moving on¡­¡±


    ¡°You have not answered my question,¡± said Virillius. ¡°What is your goal? Why do you associate with my daughter?¡±


    ¡°Uhh¡­ I don¡¯t really have a goal, I think,¡± said the fox. ¡°She¡¯s just my best friend, so I¡¯m just kinda following her around.¡±


    Virillius frowned. ¡°So then you will become the reason she follows in my wake.¡± Ignoring the pulse of magic, and the troubled frown that followed, the moose set down his glass and rose from his seat. ¡°It will be three days before she is allowed to return. You are free to come and go as you please.¡± And then, shooting the fox one last glare, he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

 Chapter 345 - Hubris II

    Chapter 345 - Hubris II


    Ace scanned the camp with a lazy eye as he double-checked his hastily constructed umbrella. It was still raining too heavily for the brigade to hit the road. If anything, the storm had only grown heavier on the second day, but that was precisely why he was preparing to head into town. The lizardman needed to replace his weapon. He could always default to using the greatsword still strapped to his back, but he needed his shorter blade for most speed-focused encounters.


    He wasn¡¯t the only one returning to the city. Lana, Chloe, and Sophia were joining him on his quest, the wolf to seek a new axe, the maid to pick up more groceries, and the shark because she needed a breath of fresh air; the storm was not letting up and she had nothing to do.


    Krail had wanted to join them, apparently to get some gambling done at the local tavern, but Jules managed to change his mind. The elf¡¯s magehood was the primary concern. Though still somewhat unpleasant, in the eyes of the mana-sensitive locals, the physical combatants were not quite as uncomfortable to handle; they would have more luck if they went alone.


    They ventured out into the storm as soon as everyone was geared up, though some of its members were debatably more ready than others. If anything, he felt like Lana was overprepared. She wore a magical poncho that would keep her dry even underwater, a mask that allowed her to breathe liquids, and even a pair of enchanted goggles with the ability to see through the rain. She threw on the magical items with such efficiency and familiarity that he could only assume that they were pirate essentials.


    Sophia, like Ace, was moderately prepared. Both secret agents wore makeshift raincoats, unlike Chloe, who had decided to make do with an umbrella. Though in her case, the lack of readiness was practically a given. Her accompaniment was less of a choice and more of an assignment. The drowsy maid had not suggested her own participation. Arciel had ordered it, and she had simply failed to decline.


    He half expected her to wake when they stepped outdoors, but to his surprise, she remained exactly as she was even as they waded through the storm. It was almost entertaining how little of an effort she made to stay dry. She wasn¡¯t awake enough to hold her umbrella overhead. The wind blew it from side to side and dragged her to and fro. Lana was her only saving grace. The tiny wolfgirl grabbed her by the wrist and made sure she never strayed too far.


    But that was effectively the extent of the interaction that followed throughout the trip. Of course, Ace did at least try to make conversation¡ª


    ¡°Would¡¯ve thought that it¡¯d have cleared up by now. Damned storm¡¯s stubborn as a mule.¡±


    ¡°Mhm.¡±


    ¡°Right, so uh, how you holdin¡¯ up, Miss Penhorn? That gear doing its job?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡ªBut he was unable to pierce the pirate¡¯s ironclad defence. Sophia was just as uncooperative. She only ever responded to his questions with ¡°affirmative,¡± and ¡°negative,¡± refusing to elaborate on anything he tried bringing up. Chloe did eventually wake up, roughly halfway through the trip, but she wasn¡¯t quite in the mood for a conversation either. Feeling silly for even making the attempt, the lizardman shook his head and walked the rest of the way in awkward silence.


    Thankfully, for his sanity¡¯s sake, he wasn¡¯t left with nothing to do. He focused his energy on surveying the environment and keeping an eye out for any potential threats. It was the Cadrian princess¡¯ fault that he was on edge. She had led them straight into the enemy¡¯s trap; it was exactly what he would have done, had he shared her motives. And it had almost worked.


    They had managed to pull through, perhaps because they were more competent than she had previously suspected. Ace himself had failed to contribute, but the others ensured that her assassin never escaped.


    The lizardman clicked his tongue. It was starting to look like he would need to confront her, but even if she were as cursed as her strange injuries suggested, even if the others joined in, he would surely have to reveal his hand to see her ultimately defeated. And that in turn would entail his mission¡¯s failure.


    A trap would likely be wiser, but in either case, he would have to begin by removing the wool from Queen Arciel¡¯s eyes. His own plans would never make progress if she continued to blindly support her supposed friend¡¯s schemes. Eroding their relationship, however, seemed like a high hurdle to cross. He could have used himself as bait had he belonged to the deck of hearts. The corresponding Jack was especially effective when it came to seduction¡ªeven with their sexualities called into question, he would¡¯ve had them swooning and fighting over him in a matter of minutes¡ªbut alas, the Ace of Diamonds had no such ability. His only tricks were to stay sharp and spear his enemies through.


    His contemplation lasted until they arrived in front of the city¡¯s wall.


    ¡°Stop. Who are you, and what are you here for?¡± A ferret stepped out of the watchhouse with a brightly lit lamp and a fairly sturdy umbrella. He wasn¡¯t quite as on guard as he had been just a few days prior, but he still regarded them with at least some degree of suspicion. Ace was not particularly bothered; it only made sense for him to check a group that would approach in such heavy rain.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Mister,¡± said Ace. ¡°We¡¯re travellers, here to restock on supplies. Been rough out there with the rain.¡±


    ¡°Travellers?¡± The sunak raised his firelight and scanned each of the group¡¯s members in turn.


    Thinking that there was nothing wrong, Ace happily cooperated and allowed the man to do his job. At least until the group¡¯s final member was placed under scrutiny.


    His jaw practically dropped. He hadn¡¯t quite noticed in the darkness and rain, but the flame quickly revealed the maid to be a problem. Her uniform was the only thing that adorned her body, and it was sticking awfully close and highlighting every bit of its ridiculous, cold-changed shape. The lizardman, by all means, should not have been attracted. He had only ever preferred individuals in his own species group, and yet, he found himself unable to redirect his gaze. Evidently, the guard was in the same boat; his whole body was shaking and his eyes were spinning with madness.


    Lana lowered the half-succubus¡¯ umbrella and hid her body from view, but the trance lasted until she waved a hand in front of the man¡¯s face. ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ uh, yeah, sorry. Zoned out for a bit,¡± said the guard.


    Ace laughed awkwardly. ¡°Everything okay, Mister? Or are we gonna need to fill out some forms?¡±


    ¡°R-right. Y-you¡¯re free to pass.¡± The guard fixed his expression with a cough and pulled a lever that slowly raised the gate. He stepped out of the way as the metal bars rose, all while wondering under his breath about the local brothel¡¯s more exotic options.


    ¡°Gonna need to do something about that look of yours, Miss,¡± said Ace. ¡°It ain¡¯t pretty what it does to people.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative,¡± said Sophia. ¡°I detect higher levels of lust when I look in your direction.¡±


    ¡°Wait, that was my fault?¡± asked Chloe.


    ¡°Can you think of any other reason he freaked out the moment he saw you?¡±


    ¡°It may be worth reevaluating your wardrobe choices,¡± said Sophia. ¡°I suggest including a bra.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m wearing one already,¡± muttered the maid. ¡°They¡¯ve just been showing through no matter what I do lately.¡±


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°I know a trick,¡± said Lana. ¡°I can show you. If we visit the tailor¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°You do?¡± The maid skeptically turned her eyes on the tiny wolf¡¯s washboard.


    ¡°Our bodies change when we go into heat,¡± said the pirate.


    ¡°How about you girls save that for when I ain¡¯t listening?¡± said Ace. ¡°And maybe help me find the local smithy while you¡¯re at it.¡±


    ¡°I remember passing one the first time we walked through town,¡± said Chloe. ¡°It should be on the main road, not too far from here.¡±


    ¡°You sure? I don¡¯t hear no hammering,¡± said Ace.


    ¡°It is possible that they are simply closed,¡± said Sophia.


    ¡°Gods help us if they are,¡± groaned the lizardman. ¡°I¡¯d hate it if we came all this way for nothing.¡±


    ¡°I think you might be onto something,¡± said Chloe. ¡°The war goddess¡¯ temple usually has a few weapons for sale.¡±


    ¡°Maybe for the little lady,¡± said Ace. ¡°I¡¯m not looking to spend much, and all the stuff they have there is always priced right through the roof.¡±


    They continued walking through the city as they chatted, carefully inspecting the signs as they passed them by. When they finally arrived at the smithy, after ten odd minutes of browsing, they were pleasantly surprised to see that the light was on.


    A bell rang when they walked through the door. There was clearly a ferret sitting at the desk, but it didn¡¯t bother calling out to the customers or welcoming them into its shop. Only grunting once, it kept its gaze focused on their persons as they browsed its wares. It was only with the right eye that the shoppers were being watched. The other half of its face was covered with a massive leather patch that ran from its brow to its lips.


    ¡°Should¡¯ve known it¡¯d turn out like this.¡± Having done a full circle of the shop, Ace breathed a sigh and flopped his tail against the ground. The smithy was not a dedicated weapons shop. Most of the items lying around were everyday goods like tiny spoons, skillets, and scythes. There were a few weapons stashed in one of the far corners, but they were all made for locals. Not only were they too small, their designs were completely unlike those to which the lizard was accustomed.


    Of the twelve-odd items available, nine were meant to be held in one¡¯s mouth. They featured blades on both sides, likely meant for slashing a foe as one ran them by. The remaining three pieces were equipable claws for the ferrets¡¯ tiny feet. There was nothing that even remotely resembled a sword or an axe.


    ¡°Excuse me, Mister,¡± Ace walked up to the counter and greeted the man with a light nod. ¡°Do you take custom orders?¡±


    The half-blind ferret briefly glanced in his direction. ¡°Not for travellers. There isn¡¯t a forge in town big enough to make you anything decent.¡±


    Ace flicked his tongue. ¡°Damn. What about the temples? You think they¡¯ll have anything?¡±


    ¡°Doubt it.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± said Ace. ¡°And sorry for taking up your time.¡±


    The half-blind ferret only nodded and lightly waved him away.


    His companions in tow, Ace reluctantly walked out of the shop and scratched the back of his tail. ¡°You girls got any ideas?¡±


    ¡°We could try asking one of the other shops,¡± said Chloe. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure he was lying.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative,¡± said Sophia. ¡°Many of his wares were sizeable.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I think they¡¯ve made it clear that most people around here don¡¯t like foreigners too much. I doubt we¡¯ll have much hope of finding anything until we cross the border.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s split up,¡± said Lana.


    ¡°Excellent suggestion,¡± said Sophia. ¡°Not all the locals may be as unfriendly.¡±


    ¡°Doubt it¡¯ll get us anywhere, but sure,¡± said Ace. ¡°I¡¯ll head south then southwest. You girls handle the rest.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Lana.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take the northeast,¡± said Chloe.


    Lightly waving his free hand, the lizardman started south with a tired sigh. He didn¡¯t stay en route for long, however, and split into a relatively dry alley as soon as he was out of sight. From there, he followed a mental map and skirted around until he found himself inside of a random building¡¯s basement. He wasn¡¯t quite sure if the owner was aware of his presence, so he kept his voice low, even as he greeted his partner.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Mister Relay.¡± Meeting the thousand-year frog was another one of the trip¡¯s objectives. Relay had sent a bird while Ace was on night watch that morning and requested an in-person discussion.


    ¡°Good is maybe a bit of an exaggeration, with the weather the way it is,¡± said the grug. ¡°How are things going on your end? Any changes since the last report?¡± He popped a cigar into his mouth and offered another to his partner, who gladly received the pre-lit smoke.


    ¡°Nothing¡¯s really rocked the boat,¡± said Ace. ¡°It¡¯s the same as it was a few days back. Someone¡¯s still clueing the enemy in, and I¡¯m still pretty sure it¡¯s the girl. Either her or the raccoon.¡±


    ¡°Right, about that,¡± said Relay. ¡°I looked into him like you asked, but nothing¡¯s come up. No one¡¯s heard of a Cadrian agent that looks like a raccoon.¡±


    ¡°Figured,¡± grumbled Ace.


    Relay shrugged. ¡°Well, either case, it looks like they¡¯ve got an army inbound. You sure you don¡¯t want to withdraw?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve heard about that from the raccoon already,¡± said Ace.


    ¡°Did he tell you that there were going to be twenty fucking warships?¡±


    Ace raised a brow. ¡°Twenty?¡±


    ¡°Twenty,¡± affirmed the frog. ¡°Just so you know, this is your last chance to abort. High command¡¯ll probably let you off, with how risky it¡¯s gonna be to keep going, but they¡¯ll wind up too curious if you uncover anything else.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll stick around for a bit longer.¡± The more combat-oriented agent took a deep breath and filled his lungs with smoke. ¡°I¡¯m the only chance they¡¯ve got at taking that princess down.¡±


    Relay scoffed. ¡°Remember your orders, Ace. Don¡¯t risk your life for the Vel¡¯khanese.¡±


    The lizardman laughed. ¡°I¡¯m only doing this because I¡¯ve still got my eyes on the prize. We¡¯ve got a solid chance at hitting both targets, and I ain¡¯t about to pass it up.¡±


    ¡°Just making sure.¡± Nodding at his partner, the frog put on his hat and headed back into the rain.


    And after taking a few minutes to puff at his cigar, Ace joined him in doing the same. But while the frog¡¯s exit was seamless, the lizardman¡¯s was not. He found himself face-to-face with one of his party¡¯s members as soon as he stepped into the open.


    ¡°Please explain.¡± From the way that she was standing, it was clear that she had been awaiting his exit. ¡°What were you doing in that basement?¡± Sophia¡¯s eyes were cold, practically glowing beneath the darkened skies.


    ¡°Not much,¡± said the lizard. ¡°Just figured I¡¯d need to hang out somewhere dry to get my smoke lit.¡±


    ¡°Please refrain from providing dishonest responses. They only detract from your credibility.¡± The shark clenched her fists. ¡°I observed as you entered the building, and as that suspicious grug vacated it.¡±


    Ace took a breath. He hadn¡¯t realised that she had tailed him, but he remained composed regardless. It was as good a chance as any to win over the shark¡¯s trust. ¡°He¡¯s an information broker. He called out to me with some sort of magic, and I decided to follow him.¡±


    ¡°He was a grug.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and I met him back in Moros. He happened to follow us across the border because he had an update for me, and figured I¡¯d be willing to pay.¡±


    ¡°And what, exactly, did he have to report?¡±


    ¡°You know how Miss Augustus is the Cadrian princess? Well, it turns out, unsurprisingly, that she ain¡¯t on our side.¡±


    Sophia balled her hands into fists. ¡°Negative. She is an ally. Continue to spread falsehoods, and I will proceed with your elimination.¡±


    ¡°Look, just hear me out.¡± Ace took half a step back and raised his empty hands above his head. ¡°I know the queen trusts her, but you¡¯ve gotta think about this rationally. She¡¯s got no reason to take our side.¡±


    Sophia paused. ¡°She served as a key ally in the revolution.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯d be easier for the Cadrians to take control of Vel¡¯khan. Why the fuck else do you think she killed the marquis and started the war?¡± he asked. ¡°Look, your duty is to your nation, ain¡¯t it? How ¡®bout you open your goddamn eyes and see the situation for what it is. I know I ain¡¯t Vel¡¯khanese, but you¡¯ve gotta trust me. I¡¯m just trying to help.¡±


    The shark lowered her hands. ¡°I will hear you out.¡±


    Ace breathed a sigh and gestured for the shark to follow, before retreating back underground. ¡°Buckle in. It¡¯ll be a long one.¡±


    He crossed his arms, leaned against a pillar, and after taking a long draught from his cigar, he revealed every point of evidence that his relay had discovered.

 Chapter 346 - Hubris III

    Chapter 346 - Hubris III


    109833 - 2 - 1 - 5


    Dear Diary,


    I can¡¯t believe I let that stupid pickpocket steal my diary! It took three whole weeks to track him down. Three! We¡¯re not even in Fornestead anymore! I still remember how delicious the pies were, but it feels a bit too late to describe them.


    We¡¯re in Zarkaahn now. I¡¯m still a little weirded out by the talking raccoons, but Lina thinks they¡¯re cute. I really don¡¯t see how.


    Lia


    ___


    Sylvia stretched her back and shook her head as the world around her slowly came into view. It was already evening. The setting sun hovered above the Cadrian capital, easily visible from the window that illuminated the extravagant classroom. Officially, she was a guest in the castle and Claire¡¯s father had given her a pass to indicate said status. She had learned the hard way that forgetting it would get her attacked by those not yet in the know.


    The identifier had proven itself especially handy on the first day, which she more or less spent wandering the castle¡¯s grounds. She was unpleasantly surprised to find its residents sensitive to her magic. Even the pure warriors¡ªthe castle¡¯s most mystically inept¡ªwould occasionally throw up their guards when they sensed her approach. It was a stark contrast to the treatment she had received among the Vel¡¯khanese, not only because they detected her, but also because they respected her. After confirming that she was welcome, they would often bow their heads and even salute as she passed them by. Some of the more magically inclined went as far as to ask for duels and demonstrations, though the fox declined them each time.


    It was precisely to escape the magical inquisition that the half-elf had retreated to Rubia¡¯s side; she had followed her everywhere since the second day¡¯s dawn. Another thirty-odd hours had passed since she made the desk into her temporary abode, during which time she had learned that Claire¡¯s lessons were every bit as droll as the frosty longmoose had claimed. Most of her classes were centred around mathematics, history, magic, theology, and military strategy, the last of which unfortunately tied the other four together.


    What annoyed Sylvia the most was the pointless complexity; the possible outcomes were discussed and analyzed in terms of probability, with different factors assigned seemingly arbitrary weights based on the historical record in question. The values were meant to represent the relative influences of the armies and champions, but they held little merit. Not only were they constantly in flux, they were often further distorted by unexpected factors. Sylvia had even spoken out to question the inconsistency, only to be informed by Rubia¡¯s tutor that such was the nature of war.


    Feeling less-than-inclined to believe the claim, the fox decided to close her eyes and sleep her way through the rest of the lessons. Most of her waking hours were spent at the dinner table. It couldn¡¯t be helped. It wasn¡¯t just the first night¡¯s meal that had been ridiculously extravagant. The breakfasts, lunches, and dinners all eclipsed the Vel¡¯khanese palace¡¯s luxuries by far, even though the smaller country had easier access to the world¡¯s best chefs.


    The quality of the ingredients was what made up the difference. From asking around, she discovered that it was only grains, grasses, and other essentials that were grown with quantity as the main focus. The rest of their ingredients, and frankly even some of the grasses, had quality put first. The livestock they raised was given luxurious feed, filled to the brim with succulent fats, while the fruits and vegetables were selectively bred to generate the most delicious produce.


    It was a surprisingly reasonable outcome. Centaurs and cottontails could subsist almost entirely on hay. There was no need for them to eat anything else, and most preferred the flavours of alfalfa and timothy over half-baked alternatives. Their demand for every other type of food stemmed almost exclusively from the gourmet and luxury markets. Thorae and lamias were nearly as common as rabbits and horses, but their habits were no different. The bee-ogres could live off honey and nectar alone, and the snake people were happy with whatever animals or monsters they happened to catch. The peasants among them often swallowed their meals whole without any regard for flavour.


    Sylvia thought it was something of a miserable existence, but the people didn¡¯t mind. After all, when they did splurge and buy themselves a treat, they could do so knowing that it was one of the most delicious the continent had to offer.


    Mealtime aside, the half-elf only woke when Rubia was free from her obligations. The opportunities were surprisingly rare; tea breaks aside, she only really had an hour to herself each night. Otherwise, she was busy from dawn to dusk, taking lessons all throughout the day.


    Sylvia would have been more inclined to stay awake had she not been wrought with worry. She couldn''t help but check her mark once every few seconds just to make sure the lyrkress was still breathing. A god was not an easy opponent, no matter what the circumstances presented. Thankfully, her anxiety would soon come to an end. There were only ten-odd minutes left before her best friend''s release. She could tell, not only from the sun¡¯s position, but also from the delicious scent that wafted through the air; dinner would soon be coming.


    Everyone else seemed more or less conscious of it as well. Rubia''s theology tutor, an old centaur with glasses too big for her face, was constantly checking the clock and fighting back her stomach¡¯s rumbles, while the homunculus herself was speeding through her classwork with all the vigour of a hungry wolf. Her quill danced across the page, inscribing verse after verse of the war goddess¡¯ history without the slightest hint of error.


    Normally, the verses would have been spoken aloud; being a poem, its meter and rhythm were as important as its contents, but the tutor didn¡¯t have much of a choice. There was little she could do if the girl was too sick to speak. She did have some suspicions as to the illness¡¯ nature, especially after the real Claire had given her an excuse and run off during one of her visits, but she knew better than to call it into question. She was nothing but a humble scholar who knew better than to stick her nose where it didn¡¯t belong.


    Despite her cautious approach, the woman was a decent educator. It only took her a few minutes to go over Rubia¡¯s homework once it was submitted; she quickly returned it with the only mistake clearly circled and explained.


    ¡°Good work, Claire. That will be all for today.¡± The horse lady smiled and started packing up her bag. ¡°It seems like you¡¯ve fully internalized the epic of Korrork. I¡¯ll bring new material for our next lesson.¡±


    Rubia nodded.


    ¡°Then I will see you tomorrow afternoon,¡± she said, with a curtsy. ¡°I bid you good evening. Please rest well. We will be studying a minor deity with a rather rich background, so do expect a rather dense lesson.¡±


    The horse opened the door and stepped out, only for one of the maids to take her place without a moment¡¯s delay.


    ¡°Dinner is ready,¡± said Beatrice. ¡°Your father will be having you again tonight, so we¡¯ll be making our way to his private dining hall.¡±


    Nodding for a third time, Rubia stood up from her seat, tucked in her chair, and pulled the fox into her arms. Sylvia had no problem obliging, of course. She leaned right into the pseudo-halfbreed¡¯s embrace and shifted around until she was decently comfortable.


    The trip wasn''t nearly as long as their first. Though the head maid remained cautious of the fox, she respected Virillius¡¯ wishes and led them straight to his personal wing¡ªnot that it really would have mattered. Sylvia spent the whole journey contemplating the possibility that Claire would slip up right at the end. It sounded far more likely than not, given her nature.


    Not even the beautiful spread that sat atop the table provided a decent enough distraction. Her mind continued racing, even as she sat down and put her mouth to work. That was likely the reason she didn¡¯t pay much attention to what she was eating or how much of it there was; she didn¡¯t stop until she ran out of food and found the meal¡¯s other participants appalled. Rubia was silently blinking, staring at the piece of meat that had been vacuumed right off of her fork, while Virillius, who had only taken a few sips of his drink, breathed a sigh and got to his feet.


    ¡°I will request another set of portions as well as a new tablecloth and another set of utensils.¡± He briefly disappeared behind the door. He went straight to his seat when he returned and clasped his hands in front of him. ¡°It will be another hour or so before everything is ready.¡± The moose glanced at the clock. ¡°Claire will wrap up in exactly five minutes.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t we just go pick her up early? You know, since she¡¯s still alive?¡±


    ¡°The keys do not function while a trial is already in progress,¡± said Virillius. He drew his dagger, set it on the table, and pointed to the gem embedded into its guard. ¡°This will light up when we are allowed to enter.¡±


    ¡°I can just break us in,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯s not really that hard.¡±


    ¡°That would be ill-advised. All mortals within the trial ground¡¯s boundaries are considered to be its participants,¡± said Virillius, ¡°and the god¡¯s ability scores are adjusted to be equal to the sum of all the challengers¡¯. Entering the arena would only lead to a sudden increase in her opponent¡¯s strength.¡±


    Sylvia groaned. ¡°Ughhh¡­ what a pain.¡±


    Virillius closed his eyes and slowly opened them back up. ¡°All is as the goddess wills.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but your goddess is boring. And a dumb slut,¡± said Sylvia. She covered her mouth with her paws as soon as she realized what she was saying, but it was too little, too late. The words had already been voiced.


    She half expected the moose to fly into a rage, but his reaction amounted to little more than a shrug.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Though I cannot deny that she would benefit from learning some shame, I do believe that Vella is more intelligent than you¡¯ve given her credit. Her mask is every bit as attentively constructed as my daughter¡¯s, and her webs are more carefully woven. I would go as far as to say that Claire has already been caught.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ what do you mean?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure Claire said that she shot her down every time she tried anything.¡±


    Virillius lowered his gaze and lightly tapped a finger against the table. ¡°Do you know what Vella¡¯s blessing is?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty much the same as that one guy that likes math and magic a lot, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Correct. It doubles the amount of experience gained. Why do you think that is?¡±


    ¡°Is it because she wants wars to be unpredictable?¡± groaned the fox. ¡°You know, so like some random guy can suddenly become a super strong champion or whatever?¡±


    ¡°That is half the reason, yes,¡± said Virillius.


    ¡°Then what¡¯s the other half?¡±


    Virillius frowned. ¡°Rubia? I assume you¡¯ve figured it out? Would you mind informing our guest?¡±


    The homunculus bobbed her head up and down before getting out of her seat and punching the air. It was a bit of a cute gesture, but Sylvia wasn¡¯t exactly sure what it was she was trying to say.


    ¡°I would rather you didn¡¯t read her mind,¡± said Virillius, right before she cast the spell. ¡°Let this be a hint for you to decipher. It¡¯s only one piece of the puzzle, and I¡¯ve no doubts you¡¯ll be rather displeased when the rest of them fall into place.¡±


    Sylvia puffed up her cheeks, but she eventually breathed a sigh and flopped onto the table. ¡°Fine.¡±


    ¡°Now, I believe we¡¯ve just about spoken for long enough.¡± The moose turned his eyes to the clock again before picking up his dagger and examining its gemstone. However, to both his and Sylvia¡¯s confusion, the supposedly magical rock was still entirely devoid of light.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ maybe we got the time wrong?¡± said the fox. ¡°L-let¡¯s wait a little more and see what happens."


    Virillius slowly nodded his head. ¡°I suppose we must.¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah. I bet you probably looked at the clock when you went, instead of when you came back. Let¡¯s give it another five minutes.¡±


    ¡°Yes, let¡¯s,¡± agreed the moose.


    The pair waited in tense silence, while Rubia watched over them with a curious gaze. It was her first time seeing the king with a bead of sweat upon his brow. He was always much calmer, certainly in part because reality rarely deviated from his plans and predictions.


    One by one, two by two, the seconds crawled by at an excruciating pace. Neither the fox nor the moose dared to blink as they counted from one to one thousand. Alas, there were no changes. The dagger never lit up, no matter how long they stared. Neither brought it up, however, and they remained unflinching even as the waitstaff entered the room and replaced the missing plates.


    Time continued to tick. Rubia ate her meal, took her lesson, and even went to bed while the two aspects sat still as statues, not even daring to blink.


    The servants were rather confused to find them still in the room the next morning, but deciding to pretend that nothing was wrong, they served breakfast without so much as speaking a word. It was only roughly twenty minutes later, after Rubia finished her portion, that the light finally came to life.


    ¡°S-see, I told you it¡¯d be fine if we just waited a bit,¡± said Sylvia, who was clearly not nervous, sweating, or sleep-deprived.


    ¡°Of course. We do all make minor mistakes, from time to time,¡± said Virillius, who was very much in the same, perfectly comfortable boat. He moved a totally steady hand to the blade, but Sylvia was quicker. She made a portal right between them and jumped through without another thought. Seeing no reason not to follow suit, the king pocketed his weapon and ventured into the space beyond.


    ___


    Why, exactly, was Victor Redleaf proclaimed the god of riven blades? Claire pondered the question as she parried his slashes. Five, seven, ten at a time, the branches came from all directions. She could barely keep track of the arm that held his sword, let alone follow the movements of every last weeping twig. She didn¡¯t know how long it had been since the battle first started, but her stamina was running low. Her legs were tired, her circuits were shot, and her mind was running on fumes.


    Though she hadn¡¯t quite mastered the god¡¯s technique, she did at least manage to learn his mindset. She was made keenly aware of exactly how he would disrupt her each time she prepared an action. The sense was more intuitive than logical, but it worked just fine either way. She danced around his wooden hands, locking him in a stalemate that lasted for as long as her consciousness had held.


    Perhaps growing weary of the back and forth, the god eventually changed his pace.


    And in doing so, answered the question floating through the back of her mind.


    There was a sudden surge of divinity, followed by a bright red flash as his autumn leaves came crashing down upon her.


    Their weapons should have been equal. Starrgort had proven himself a perfect match for the god¡¯s cleaver. The few times the blades chipped, they did so together, cracking and repairing themselves in perfect tandem.


    But all that was changed the moment he cast his ultimate.


    He cut her sword right down the middle. Everything from its edge to its hilt was split perfectly in two. Her hand was the only thing that offered a hint of resistance. But not even it could hold before the power that embodied his concept. Her icy bones split open like logs and her fingers were easily removed.


    He continued without delay and plunged his weapon towards her chest. It was still glowing, clad in the same ice-piercing cloak that had empowered it just a moment before, but the caldriess faced it head-on. Guarding with her cloven fist, she flung herself into his canopy and assumed her true form. Her body shot around his branches and locked them in a tight bundle. Every point of contact was used as a siphon, a conduit to rapidly drain his life, his mana, and even his divinity.


    The only branches he could still use were lower on his body, but she bit them off as soon as he passed his sword over. She may have been stuck with his lousy strength, but the elf¡¯s power still eclipsed his paper-thin defence. His wood meant nothing beneath the might of her jaws. He had no way of retaliating. The only damage he traded came from the splinters lodged between her teeth.


    He tried turning into an elf to escape, but the move was too clearly telegraphed. She simply squeezed harder when the singing came to an end and stopped him in his tracks.


    That was the end of that. Her strength was returned by the song¡¯s non-presence; a simple squeeze¡ªa loud crunch¡ªbroke all the bones in his tiny elven body.


    Log Entry 850234


    You have defeated the shadow of Victor Redleaf, God of Riven Blades, and returned his mind to its gaol.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 15000 points of dexterity


    - 5000 points of spirit


    - 5000 points of strength


    Log Entry 850235


    Achievement Unlocked - Godscourge I


    You have bested a fettered god in combat. Rejoice, mortal. You have accomplished what few would dare to dream. You have become more divinely attuned. You are more resistant to the effects of hostile divine auras. Your divinity flows more readily, and its upper limit has increased by one hundred percent.


    Log Entry 850236


    You have levelled up. Your health and mana have been partially restored.


    Your racial class, Caldriess, has reached level 517.


    Your titular class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has reached level 7.


    You have acquired 11996 ability points


    Log Entry 850237


    You have completed ¡°Vella¡¯s Call (1).¡±


    You have been awarded 25000 points of divinity. Your ability score modifier has increased by 1%.


    You have completed a hidden bonus objective.


    You have unlocked the titular Willow in the Western Wind class.


    Log Entry 850238


    Your titular class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has cannibalized Willow in the Western Wind.


    You have been granted limited administrator-level privileges to the coordinate and physics subsystems.


    Log Entry 850239


    The Vector Mastery, Vector Resistance, and Detect Vector Magic skills have been deemed obsolete and removed.


    Claire idly listened to the goddess¡¯ seemingly nostalgic voice as she collapsed onto her belly. She hadn¡¯t even killed the god¡ªthe text clearly said otherwise¡ªand yet, she gained levels hand over fist for the first time since her most recent ascension. The sense of accomplishment was great enough that she almost didn¡¯t mind Flux¡¯s curse.


    Log Entry 850240


    Cataclysm Convergence has reached level 213.


    Surprisingly, she was not the only one to have survived the encounter. Starrgort, who she had assumed long dead, pieced his perfect halves right back together.


    It was a bit of a disappointment. She wanted an excuse to call Boris, who was clearly superior in every which way, but at the same time, she found herself feeling pleasantly surprised. The spider was hardier than she assumed, and as her days in Alfred¡¯s hellhole had taught her, more was always better. Unless there were too many and you literally stabbed yourself all over while you walked around.


    Log Entry 850241


    Weapon Mastery has reached level 193.


    Stretching her tail, Claire returned to her humanoid form and flexed her freshly healed hand. It wasn¡¯t the system that had healed her, of course. She had simply stolen everything she was missing during the elf¡¯s brief capture.


    She looked around the room after affirming that everything was in working order. She couldn¡¯t quite tell how much time had passed, but it definitely wasn¡¯t three days, and she was in a good mood, so she walked along the edges and examined the prisoners in turn. Surprisingly, the elf was back in his cell and fully intact, even though his lifeless body still lay within the ring. It was certainly a curious phenomenon, but Claire decided not to question it. She was far too busy perusing the war goddess¡¯ wares to bother with something so insignificant.


    There were all sorts of prisoners bound within the darkness. Creatures of all shapes and sizes, many of which she had never seen before. It was practically a zoo, albeit a strange one with its exhibits tied up and suspended in midair.


    It was a shame that she couldn¡¯t issue another challenge. She couldn¡¯t even begin to imagine how boring it would be to sit around until her father returned.


    The regret lingered until she reached into her chest and produced a familiar key. She almost wasn¡¯t surprised when she discovered that it was a perfect fit.


    After picking an opponent, a giant with the number 64 inscribed above his cell, she gave the phantasmagorical object a twist and initiated another challenge.


    Log Entry 850242


    You have received a quest - Vella¡¯s Call (2)


    Primary Objective: Survive the shadow of Korrork the Conqueror, Celestial of the Hungering Bolt for 72 hours.


    Rewards:


    - 25000 points of divinity


    - A 1% modifier to all ability scores applied after all other calculations.

 Chapter 347 - Hubris IV

    Chapter 347 - Hubris IV


    Virillius was assaulted by a mild headache the moment he walked through the demon¡¯s portal. It was not a function of the spell itself, but the scene that awaited him on the other side. The disgruntled moose raised both hands to his temples and slowly massaged them, but he was unable to free himself from the cycle of suffering.


    The fox reacted similarly. She stood just outside of the rift, blinking repeatedly as the gears in her mind ground to a halt. Rubia, on the other hand, sprinted across the ring. She ran towards the ten-meter snake-moose at its centre and wrapped her arms around her tail.


    It wasn''t as if the man failed to recognize his daughter. Her form was unfamiliar, but he had known it was her from the moment he caught sight of her scales. Her ears only aided in the proclamation and confirmed her identity outright. He was certainly surprised by her monstrous shape, but it was really the result of the trial that had driven his stupor. He had expected her to survive, and he had expected her to be battered¡ªthe moose had chosen the Victor Redleaf precisely because he had determined that he was perfect for pushing her limits¡ªbut never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that she would be sitting in front of a mound of corpses.


    Even the goddess was appalled. He could feel it. Her domain was trembling with excitement, shaking as if to echo her battlelust and anticipation. It wouldn''t have surprised him if she fell from the ceiling and demanded to challenge father and daughter at once. But fortunately, no such event occurred.


    "Claire. What did you do?" groaned the moose king.


    "Nothing," she said, with an obviously fake smile.


    "Then how, exactly, do you explain that?" His eyes were on her collection. There were seven bodies in all, two belonging to gods, and the other five to notable celestials. It didn''t make any sense. They were immortals, powerful fighters recognized by the goddess of war herself. She shouldn''t have been able to best so many, even with their powers mostly sealed away and their ability scores brought down to her level. Their technique and martial prowess should have won out over the trump cards she had refused to show him. It wasn''t like she had only fought the weakest links. One of the corpses belonged to the god of trolls, whose absurd constitution had earned him ninety-seven of the hundred consecutive kills he needed to see himself released.


    "I felt like killing them. So I did."


    "And how did you manage to release them from their cages without a key?"


    "I have one.¡±


    He sighed. It was an obvious lie¡ªthe daggers that served as Vella''s symbols reacted strongly in each other¡¯s presence, and his was dead silent¡ªbut he dismissed it with a shake of the head. There were too many questions to ask for him to be focused on something so trivial. Alas, he was never given the opportunity to voice them. Having finally recovered, the fox dashed towards his daughter and casually jumped on top of her head.


    "You should probably go to bed," she said, after taking a moment to examine her seat.


    "I''m fine."


    "You look pretty tired to me.¡±


    "I¡¯m not.¡±


    ¡°Mmnmnnn¡­ if you say so,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I do.¡± Claire briefly glanced at her father. ¡°Let¡¯s head back. The others are probably sick of waiting.¡±


    Rubia looked up with a pout, but Claire brushed it off with a tail-driven pat of the head.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll stop by again soon.¡±


    The clone paused for a bit before reluctantly letting go and taking a step back.


    ¡°Thanks, Rubia.¡±


    Claire brought her face close and lightly pressed her nose against the fake¡¯s. Her father looked like he had something to say, but she dismissed him with a wave of the tail before standing up on her feet.


    After a brief delay, she ripped open a portal half a kilometer from the cabin and slipped her way through. It closed as soon as she was gone, only for a bigger one to open in its place just a few seconds later. Claire grabbed her dead foes¡¯ bodies, and ignoring her father¡¯s surprise, dragged them into the forest beyond. She didn¡¯t think it would work, but evidently, Vella had only considered the case where her examinees would enter and exit by key.


    ¡°Wait a second. You can open portals again?¡± asked Sylvia, with a tilt of the head. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that mess with circuits?¡±


    ¡°Not anymore,¡± said Claire. Flapping her wings, she lifted herself into the sky and dragged her victims along. The bull was especially heavy, but she counteracted its weight with her vectors and lugged it back to base.


    Sylvia blinked. Thrice. ¡°Does that mean you¡¯re fixed now?¡±


    ¡°Not in the slightest.¡±


    ¡°Then how the heck are you opening portals!?¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°Vector magic almost doesn¡¯t count as magic anymore.¡± She still used her magic circuits to perform the system calls, but the resources used were negligible. Each command consumed exactly ten points of mana and one point of divinity, regardless of the instruction in question.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Right.¡±


    The sky was no longer dark and gloomy, but she could tell that the rain had only just stopped. The plants were still covered in moisture; their trunks were soaked and thick watery beads hung from the leaves and flowers. The ground was so muddy that the carriage and its turberi were sure to get stuck.


    In her true form, her looming shadow was large enough for the cabin¡¯s inhabitants to notice her immediately. Jules, who was standing guard outside, didn¡¯t even have the chance to speak before the door was opened.


    Chloe was the first person to step out, but she wasn¡¯t the first to interact. Having greeted his mistress with two idle blinks, Boris had long set himself to following her commands and consuming her quarry. Or more specifically, their gear. Summoning seventeen copies, he bit through their equipment before anyone could voice a word of complaint.


    ¡°I have been expecting your return for three and a half days,¡± said Arciel. Her lips were twisted into a bit of a pout. She had very intentionally lowered her fan just enough to show it.


    ¡°I was training,¡± said Claire. ¡°And I told you before I left.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, but I would have appreciated a more detailed warning, considering the duration.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm, in her defence, she didn¡¯t really know,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°We were supposed to come back right away, but then we got caught up in all sorts of stuff.¡±


    Everyone¡¯s eyes went straight to the pile of ragged, half-naked corpses.


    ¡°The cow looks like it¡¯d be good as a steak,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I can try making something of it for lunch,¡± said Chloe. ¡°but it¡¯s too big for me to butcher it by myself.¡±  The celestial bull was nearly as long as the caldriess, and at least six times thicker in every which way.


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    ¡°Uhhmmm¡­ you should probably leave it alone anyway. It¡¯s got a whole lot of divinity, so eating it¡¯ll make you super sick.¡±


    The brigade¡¯s eyes collectively shuffled to the resident lizard, who had started munching on the celestial bull¡¯s flesh after running out of metal. He did pause briefly to return the stares, but his feast continued right after.


    ¡°Boris looks fine to me,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°Well uhmmm¡­ I think that¡¯s probably ¡®cause it just hasn¡¯t kicked in yet?¡± said the fox.


    ¡°He¡¯s eaten weirder things before,¡± said Claire. ¡°Like Vella¡¯s dagger.¡±


    ¡°I guess he kinda has,¡± said Sylvia.


    By all means, the ikarett should have minded. Divinity was potent and indigestible enough to upset cast iron stomachs, but having been modified by Dorr, and subsequently ascended for even greater compatibility, he saw no trouble in its consumption.


    ¡°What kinda training were you doing exactly, Miss Augustus?¡± asked Ace. He glanced at the rest of the corpses. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like anything normal, at least.¡±


    ¡°I fought people,¡± she said. ¡°Idiots that sat in cages all day.¡±


    There was a moment of silence.


    ¡°A colosseum?¡± asked Lana.


    ¡°Something like that,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I presume these were your opponents?¡± asked Arciel, as she looked over the spread.


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Why¡¯d you bring them back?¡± asked Jules.


    ¡°Their bones might make for decent materials.¡±


    Another moment of silence.


    ¡°Except the elf¡¯s,¡± she said, as she assumed her humanoid form. ¡°I crushed all of his.¡±


    ¡°Then why the fuck did you bring him!?¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°We could eat him,¡± she said. ¡°He was respectable enough.¡±


    The clam made a flabbergasted face, somewhere between horror and disgust, but Arciel stepped in before he could voice his concerns. ¡°I would certainly not mind partaking in his blood,¡± said the vampire. ¡°Its scent is rather delicious.¡±


    ¡°His bark tasted like cinnamon,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°His bark?¡± The witch slowly cocked her head. ¡°I suspect that you will need to describe the nature of your training for the claim to make sense.¡±


    ¡°I was fighting in a strange arena, and the elf was my first opponent.¡± Claire smiled, softly but visibly. ¡°He was annoying to fight, especially after he turned into a tree, but he died when I caught and squeezed him.¡±


    ¡°He assumed the form of a tree?¡± said Arciel. ¡°How bizarre.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a metaphor,¡± said Krail. ¡°It¡¯s pretty normal for members of the Redleaf tribe. Most of them are sword-wielding bards, and their most common ars magna is a domain that lets them embody a tree.¡± He knelt down by the body and carefully looked it over. ¡°This one¡¯s pretty clearly a pureblood, so it doesn¡¯t seem too surprising that he could pull it off.¡±


    Elves were like humans. It was only in a few key traits that the sister species differed¡ªelves had no body hair, sharpened ears, and traded their sexual desires for a love of speculation. As was the case with humans, knife-ears were rarely changed by their ascensions; their bodies stayed more or less the same, with the accompanying increase in their lifespan serving as the primary indicator. And it was precisely that trait which had stopped Krail short of asking questions; he had no idea that he was examining a god, not that he would have believed such a claim in the first place, given the nature of his species.


    ¡°His name ended in Redleaf,¡± said Claire, with a nod. She raised her tail and directed it at another one of her kills. ¡°I fought him second. He was a good archer, and he was strong enough to shake me off when I tried to strangle him, but he died when I bit his head off.¡±


    ¡°That much is clear,¡± said Arciel, as she looked at the stump that was his neck. ¡°Though I must say, his size is rather unimpressive, for one of his species.¡±


    Claire nodded. At only three and a half meters, he was clearly vertically challenged. ¡°After him was a group of idiots,¡± she said. ¡°I overpowered them easily.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t her intention to brag, but neither had the battles been quite as easy as she had made them out to be. Her third and fourth opponents were both mages, and as such, she had challenged them by charging straight in. The third¡ªa large bird that resembled a snowy owl with a second head growing out of its back¡ªhad tried to escape after incinerating her face, but she caught it off guard by negating its vectors and subsequently ran her claws straight through its chest.


    Opponent number four¡ªa giant lizard with a huge jaw, two tiny arms, and an expensive top hat¡ªhad put up a bit of a better fight. It reacted in time to escape her charge and even countered with a barrage of spells. Despite losing more than half of her flesh to the assault, Claire eventually closed the distance and indulged in some good old deicide. It was much the same story as with her fifth opponent, only the lizard had changed places with a duck-billed beaver, and the magic with throwing knives. The platypus¡¯ weapons were sharp enough to cut through her scales, but in her true form, the wounds they left were far too shallow to note. She endured its attacks, countered with her own, and came ahead without the use of her brain.


    Immortals they may have been, but duelists they were not. All three were fighters that functioned best in groups with allies to serve as their swords and shields.


    ¡°The cow was the strongest,¡± said Claire, as she laid eyes on her sixth opponent. ¡°It was as fast as the assassin we fought the other day, and at least three times stronger.¡±


    ¡°With that body?¡± Chloe furrowed her brow.


    ¡°I cannot imagine that to have been an easy battle.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t.¡±


    The celestial bull was her most difficult opponent. Half the challenge came from its careful specialization. Unlike all of her other opponents, the bull had no investment in magic. It had enough spirit to resist her vectors¡ªwhich did still scale off of her wisdom score, in spite of the change to its function¡ªbut everything else was dumped straight into its speed, strength, and finesse. It was only by imitating the elf¡¯s trick that she had come out of the fight at all.


    ¡°What about that guy?¡± asked Sylvia. Her paw was pointed at the final corpse, a fanged troll with black and red markings scribbled all over his frame.


    ¡°He convinced me to let him out because he thought he could kill me,¡± she said, as she recalled the warrior¡¯s statement. He was the only one in the arena that had been capable of speech. Most of the others had their mouths sealed. ¡°But that was the height of hubris.¡± She didn¡¯t know exactly how strong the troll was, exactly. He had fallen before he had the chance to show his stuff. ¡°I tripped him with magic and stabbed him to death with his own sword.¡±


    Though he didn¡¯t serve much of a challenge, executing the troll had proven quite difficult. He had certainly proved his worth as the god of resilience by living through a seemingly impossible number of stabs. Claire didn¡¯t know exactly how long it had taken to kill him, but she was fairly certain that it had spanned half the time at least.


    His regeneration outpaced her life drain at least twofold, and his health barely ticked down even as she stabbed him ten times a second. Her blades would even get stuck whenever she slowed; his flesh quite literally regenerated right over them, trapping them in his body for just long enough to undo some of the progress she so diligently made. It was ridiculously difficult, even with him pinned, but she eventually managed to whittle him down and deal the finishing blow.


    ¡°It really is quite underhanded, that trick of yours,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Uhhhmm¡­ Claire? That doesn¡¯t really work as well when everyone knows it¡¯s one of your favourites,¡± said Sylvia.


    The moose averted her eyes. ¡°Enough talking. We should eat befo¡ª¡±


    The statement was cut short by an explosion. A metal weapon, glowing with a bright pink light, plummeted from the heavens and fell upon the corpses. They were instantly disintegrated, deleted so quickly that Boris found his mouth empty when he tried to take another bite.


    The foreign object was halfway between a spear and a gauntlet. It had a massive, armoured knuckle that was large enough to wrap around the elbow. It was a blocky piece of metal, tipped with a single needle as thick as the average human¡¯s forearm.


    More than half of the brigade¡¯s members threw up their guards, but Claire couldn¡¯t be bothered. It was clearly another one of Vella¡¯s attempts. She could tell, even without reading the note taped to its handle.


    You can¡¯t have these bodies. I¡¯ll give you another small piece of mine instead.


    - Vella


    ¡°The goddess of war? Again?¡± asked Arciel. She read the note from over the caldriess¡¯ shoulder.


    ¡°Unfortunately.¡± Turning Boris into a shovel, Claire dug a hole and immediately buried the weapon inside. Some of the group¡¯s members clearly wanted to protest the decision, but she ignored them. They could dig it back up and keep it if they wanted. She didn¡¯t care, so long as it had nothing to do with her. ¡°When are we leaving?¡±


    ¡°It will be another few hours,¡± said Arciel. ¡°We shall depart once enough of the soil has dried.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Wake me up when it¡¯s time to go.¡±


    Meandering into the cabin, the lyrkress picked an empty room, hugged her fox close, and went right to bed. She had promised Rubia that she would visit soon, and playing with her seemed like as good of an excuse as any to see Vella¡¯s so-called gift ignored.

 Chapter 348 - Hubris V

    Chapter 348 - Hubris V


    Porcius Pollux, the newly christened lord of the eponymous march, scratched the back of his head as he stepped out into the afternoon sun. It was well past lunchtime. There would only be a few hours before the goddess of the sun sank her way beneath the horizon, but the young marquis¡ªa fledgeling warrior barely thirty years old¡ªhad only just awoken. His sleep schedule no doubt gave a slovenly impression, but he was unconcerned. He cared little for how he appeared in the eyes of his men. None of them thought him even remotely qualified for his new position in the first place. And frankly, he was of the same opinion.


    It wasn¡¯t like he stood out from his peers. Though his rise was fairly meteoric, he had stagnated at approximately the same level as everyone else. Past the mid to high eight hundreds, there was nowhere in the southern lord¡¯s domain, or most of Cadria for that matter, where one could find ample amounts of experience. He had no relation to the former marquis, and they had never been close. Far from it, in fact. The old lord had kept him at arm¡¯s length simply because he was unfamiliar. All of his other men had much longer tenures. Some had been replaced over the years, as they retired to the countryside or sought different lives, but most had been with him for a few dozen decades at least. It was they who held his trust, they who knew his business, and they who should have assumed the position.


    And yet, the king had chosen Porcius and bestowed upon him the late marquis¡¯ name.


    Not one person in the southernmost state truly understood the appointment. Most suspected that the king had simply seen some sort of potential in the young buck, but that assumption was quickly called into question and overturned soon after he took up his position. No particular talent suddenly blossomed, regardless of how hard he worked.


    So much confusion resulted from his clear incompetence that a group of his former colleagues travelled to the capital and begged to hear an explanation in person. But all they were given was the same brief response he had sent through the mail.


    His appointment was made to prevent the march¡¯s destruction.


    When they begged for more details, the king only told them that they would understand in time.


    Their hopes dashed, they begrudgingly returned to their lands and did away with their open complaints. Of course, it was only out in public that they refrained from further questioning. They bitched and moaned behind closed doors, with some of them even calling the king¡¯s intelligence to question. It was a ridiculous affair. Just a few months prior, they had been celebrating his crowning with all their hearts, ranting on and on about the age of blood and conquest in which they would soon partake. But lo and behold, a few unfavourable decisions later, and they were badmouthing away. Despite knowing him as a brilliant general, they looked only for the flaws in each of his policies, bringing up again the rumours of mind rot that stemmed from his aspect status.


    It was thanks to another lord that Porcius was aware of their treachery. Ephesus, the lord of the neighbouring lands, had brought him the details as his spies had found them. The fresh marquis was suspicious at first, but even he could tell from the passion and worship that filled the criocentaur¡¯s voice, whenever he spoke of the king and the upcoming war, that he was a true fanatic.


    Ephesus informed him that he would have to do something soon to ensure that his march remained united, and even knowing little of politics and law, Porcius was inclined to agree. That was why he caved to their loudest demand¡ªseeing their old master avenged.


    It was the sort of tomfoolery in which the young buck would have normally never engaged. He was hardly enough of a fool to pick a fight with a foe he knew nothing about, let alone one that could level a capital city overnight. Alas, he pressed forward. It was the only way to ensure the function of his newfound domain, and he couldn¡¯t imagine how shameful it would have been not to live up to the god-king¡¯s expectations. He couldn¡¯t allow himself to be the reason that his idol¡¯s judgement was doubted.


    Fortunately, his newfound ally was there to supply him with everything he needed. It was Lord Ephesus that had served to mediate between Porcius and his master¡¯s men, Lord Ephesus who advised him on the organisation of his troops, and Lord Ephesus that had discovered the enemy¡¯s location. There was only one man backing him, but the buck felt as if he had all the support in the world.


    His opponent¡¯s abilities still worried him. The rumours claimed that the nameless warrior was something of a local god, and his wide-area attacks were powerful enough to kill every single one of the soldiers that had inhabited the city of Tornatus. Some of them had been far more powerful than Porcius, their levels ten or twenty higher and their experience a hundredfold. But he wasn¡¯t worried. It was impossible for a mortal to perform such a powerful attack without preparation. It was no doubt contractual, like a beam spell, and likely declared a target well in advance. He was confident that he could escape its range unharmed.


    Even in the worst case, they could simply abandon their ships and leverage their wings. Most flew far faster without the convenient fortresses.


    The nameless warrior would surely fall once the attack was avoided. Some of the intelligence suggested that he was a decent close-quarters combatant, but even if that were to be the case, there was nothing he could do when surrounded by champions and elites.


    It was not a strategy by which most would have been willing to abide. Downing a champion with numbers was dishonourable at best, and an insult to their culture at worst. But it was not a battle for honour that his men would be fighting.


    All they sought was vengeance for their master and justice for the hundreds of thousands of lives that the knight had stolen away.


    They had all lost friends and family to the unwarranted attack.


    They had all shared in a moment of grief that had struck the nation without rhyme or reason.


    And they would not be stopped.


    Not until the guilty lay dead.


    __


    It took a few days to pass through Sunakprathese, but the party eventually worked through the dense jungle and past the dividing line. The country they entered was named Skarnia, and its border was marked by the Howler¡¯s River. One could easily differentiate the two nations from the infrastructure alone. One side of the river saw nothing but trees, while the other was rife with cleared paths and wide roads.


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    Crossing the river was the most difficult part. There were no bridges anywhere to be seen. The Skarnians had tried to build them time and time again, but the xenophobic ferrets always tore down their efforts on account of a fear of invasion. It was an entirely unfounded claim. The Skarnians were certainly fed up by their neighbours, but they had no interest in war. Driven by the urge to collect shiny objects, their people birthed many merchants who wished for nothing more than to venture far and wide, exchanging their goods for coin. Alas, there was no business to be done with their southern neighbour. The worst part of all was that it amounted to little more than petty harassment. The crow-faced otters could easily head south through the western land routes or the eastern sea routes, the profitable detours of which accounted for an extra two days'' travel in good weather. Realistically it was closer to five, thanks to the unpredictable conditions and all the business they did along the way.


    It was precisely at one of those weather-based anomalies that the northern brigade was staring. The party¡¯s cliffside path provided a picture-perfect view of the forest below, and more importantly, the tornadoes running rampant within it. There were three of them in all, lifting trees and rocks and water basins alike as they went wherever they pleased.


    ¡°Woah, what the heck are those!?¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Tornadoes. Idiot,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Oh, come on! You know that¡¯s not what I meant!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°It might not seem like it, but that¡¯s a whole colony of monsters,¡± said Krail. ¡°They¡¯re supposed to be made up of an ascended subspecies of wolf that¡¯s taken on a number of fairy-like traits.¡±


    ¡°Wait, really?¡± The fox¡¯s eyes widened.


    ¡°Yes. I spent a solid three days trying to hunt one the first time I passed through Skarnia.¡± Krail pushed himself along with his staff as he spoke. ¡°The third party I joined, roughly forty years ago, insisted on coming up north to see the sights, and they had us obsessed at first glance.¡±


    ¡°Did you get any?¡±


    ¡°Just a few. They¡¯re not very strong, but they¡¯re a lot sharper than they look,¡± he said. A bit of a grin appeared on the old man¡¯s face. ¡°Of course, they¡¯re not really much of a match for us as we are now. Each of us could probably take down a whole colony by ourselves.¡± He glanced at Claire whose eyes were laser-focused on the closest group. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean we should. It¡¯d be bad for the local ecosystem.¡±


    ¡°There is little time for such endeavours to begin with,¡± said Arciel. ¡°We are nearing the next trial.¡± She walked in front of the group and stopped to bring it to a halt. ¡°Griselda has informed me that the lake at the center of this canyon is where our next challenge lies.¡± She pointed at a rather large body of water, ten, maybe even fifteen kilometers across. ¡°I must remark, she has also cited abnormal activity beyond the usual margin of error. I suggest we remain on our guard.¡±


    ¡°You think that means the Cadrians got here before us?¡± asked Ace.


    ¡°It is within the realm of possibility,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°I doubt it''s them,¡± said Claire.


    Panda had expected them to make contact ten days after their most recent triumph, but his calculation was made under the assumption that both parties kept moving, and the brigade had been stalled for nearly half a week. By Claire¡¯s estimate, that likely meant that they had pushed the encounter back by at least a day. Time was still ticking, of course, but they had another two or three mornings before the clock struck twelve.


    Asking the raccoon would likely have produced a more accurate estimate, but nobody had seen him since the lyrkress¡¯ last encounter. Once again, he had vanished without a trace.


    ¡°Either way, we¡¯ll be needing some weapons,¡± said the swordsman. ¡°Miss Penhorn and I are still both shit out of luck.¡±


    Neither warrior had been able to acquire any replacements in the ferrets¡¯ country; every city they entered had been just as unfriendly as the first.


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit hard to see from here, but there¡¯s a town by the lake,¡± said Krail. ¡°I can¡¯t promise you that you can get exactly what you want, but you¡¯ve got a pretty good chance of getting something decent.¡±


    ¡°All we need is something of the right size,¡± said Ace. ¡°And the Skarnians aren¡¯t much bigger than the sunaks. Don¡¯t look like they¡¯ve got the right frame to use swords either.¡±


    The elf grinned. ¡°You¡¯re forgetting. They¡¯re merchants, and good ones,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry, they¡¯ll get you something good. This staff of mine is from way back then too.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that just mean that it¡¯s outdated, as far as performance goes?¡± asked Chloe.


    ¡°Performance, performance. Always the performance.¡± The elf sighed. ¡°Is performance really all you kids care about these days? Listen here, girlie. Sometimes, a familiar piece of equipment that isn¡¯t quite as good can often serve you much better than something you¡¯re not used to. In fact, this exact staff has saved me at least a dozen times before. The first was when¡­¡±


    The elf descended into a long-winded rant. He went on and on about his most perilous encounters as they continued down the path and eventually made their way into the emerald-green chasm. Slowly but surely, the forest changed as they descended. The trees turned broad-leaved and spiked up in height. Most of the individuals above the basin were ten to twenty meters tall, but those that lived within it were ten times that. The wildlife was abundant within the jungle, featuring everything from the flying squirrels darting around the trees and the hawks chasing after them.


    They were only exposed to so much of it, however. The wide path they followed cut straight through the forest and led into a bustling town. Unlike most other settlements, which were surrounded by walls aplenty, the Skarnian city was built right into the forest itself. That was not to say that the people lived in trees, though some of them certainly did, but rather that their buildings were constructed in such a way that the vegetation wrapped around it; the bazaar blended naturally into the forest, even though the whole thing was effectively an oversized trade centre.


    The marketplace was quite the sight to behold. There weren¡¯t too many different species roaming about, largely thanks to the ferrets¡¯ proximity, but there was still a rather impressive collection of people. Huskars talked business with the native crow-otters, while dwarves and fairies fluttered around the city in whatever way they pleased. Tripedal owls, bipedal pigs, and unipedal giraffes could be seen working the many stalls and booths spread throughout the settlement.


    Far more diverse than the people themselves were their ridiculous mounts. Insects appeared to be the most common, with massive, four-seat ladybugs making up nearly half the total. In the wild, they likely would have been red or orange, but the Skarnians had them in all different colours and combinations thereof. Even their shapes varied to some extent. There were thinner ladybugs with tiny faces, fatter ones with extra chairs installed, and even long-legged ones that could walk above the rest. Second in terms of popularity were the rhinoceros beetles. From their relative scarcity, they appeared to be the luxury equivalent. They were even fashioned with fancy pelts and leather chairs over the typical cloth-covered seats installed within the commoners¡¯ vehicles.


    It only got more exotic from there. Obese butterflies, insectoid geese, and gunpowder-powered grasshoppers were seen outside of noble establishments. There were even large millipedes present to serve as public transport, carrying dozens of civilians on their backs at a time. The insect boom was so great that Claire turned towards Matthais and considered throwing a bridle around his face. He certainly might have wound up humiliated and confused, but it would enable her to present as a lady from a wealthy family.


    ¡°W-what?¡± he stuttered.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± she said.


    Shaking the reverie from her head, she returned her gaze to the shops and checked them for decent weapons. They needed to procure them as quickly as they could.


    They needed to clear the dungeon before their enemies arrived.

 Chapter 349 - Hubris VI

    Chapter 349 - Hubris VI


    109833 - 2 - 3 - 7


    Dear Diary,


    We¡¯ve finally managed to make our way through Zarkaahn. Lina reached level 250 and ascended again. She levels so quick that it¡¯s just plain unfair. I¡¯m working just as hard, but my racial level is still stuck at 80. Master says that¡¯s plenty impressive already, for a ten-year-old, but I¡¯m not so sure. Lina and I are literally twins!


    I¡¯ll just have to try harder. At least I¡¯m good at enraging! Master says it¡¯s the one place where I have my sister beat. She tries not to use it if she can because she¡¯s not all that great at staying in control, even though Master always says it¡¯s the most important part.


    Lia


    ___


    Though the bazaar was the city¡¯s main attraction, the dungeon was certainly not losing by far. There were large swaths of people gathered by the dock, with merchants once again making up the grand majority. They peddled food, weapons, camping sets, and all sorts of other supplies to the adventurers lined up by the water¡¯s edge. There was even a warehousing and stable service, with which the group entrusted their wagon and pack turtles.


    None of the parties heading into or emerging from the lake were geared for underwater combat. Most had hiking boots and filled their luggage with tents and bundles of clothes sure to weigh them down in water. It was fortunate then that the boatmen were able to keep them out of it. Like everyone else who lived in the city of Karlsborg, their transport took the form of insects. Specifically, they piloted massive water striders. And it was on the backs of those ten-meter-long creatures that the parties were delivered.


    There was a surprising variety when it came to the dungeon¡¯s spelunkers. Some were fresh blood, sporting poorly crafted gear and carrying themselves without any of the confidence, skill, and experience delivered by their peers. But while there were greenhorns, so too were there seasoned veterans that ranked among the nation¡¯s finest. The reason was quite simple. Karlsborg¡¯s dungeon was one of Skarnia¡¯s deepest. It had a few hundred floors with a slight jump in power between each. According to Griselda, even Claire¡¯s party would be challenged by the creatures encountered on the lower levels.


    Some of the more powerful groups in line were not too different from theirs. Krail scrutinized their members with his elven eyes and determined that there were many others above the five-hundred mark, the largest group of which was dressed to the nines in sparkling steel. They earned looks from people all around them, some curious, others jealous or perhaps admiring.


    It was difficult to determine the extent of their strength from a few quick glances alone, but there was a chance that they would be competing for prey on the lower floors. Even in such a case, Claire was confident that the brigade would come out on top with or without her assistance. The only deadweight they had was Chloe, seeing as how she was the only one without her third ascension.


    The maid spun around, almost as if sensing the rude thought, but Claire ignored her and continued towards the back of the line. They could have easily skipped it if their members rode on her back, and some of them were even eyeing her with expectation, but she met their gazes with silent refusal. She did admit that she was wasting their time¡ªthey wound up spending nearly an hour waiting for a boat to be made available¡ªbut her pride was far more important than whatever goal it was that lay ahead.


    In the first place, she didn¡¯t think much of the ticking clock. She had every intention of facing the incoming army head-on, but she had a few contingencies in place in case the others weren¡¯t ready. Pollux¡¯s army would have to go spelunking to find them if they remained within the dungeon, and a simple portal could return them to the surface at a moment¡¯s notice, leaving the troops trapped inside. It would take an unreasonable amount of time for them to search the dungeon and confirm that their targets were missing before backing out and giving chase again. A mere hour or two was nothing.


    Being completely new to the area, the party did earn a few stares by waiting in line, but few lingered for long enough to rouse suspicion. The three that did were all fixed on Chloe, who uncomfortably shuffled around in hopes of staying hidden.


    Upon reaching the front of the line and subsequently boarding one of the giant bugs, Claire was surprised to find the water with a strange property. It reflected the surroundings when observed from an angle, but looking at it from directly overhead revealed its surprising verticality. Even by the shore, the waters were ten meters deep. They were filled with fish and freshwater plesiosaurs, lazily swimming around and ignoring the creatures up above them.


    A large bubble emerged from the insect¡¯s back and enveloped its passengers soon after they boarded. And then, following a command from its driver, it dove beneath the waves and into the watery depths.


    Looking up at the fox sitting on her head, Claire twisted her lips into a smirk, a knowing, undeniable smirk that the pet tried her best not to see.


    ¡°Don¡¯t say it! Don¡¯t even think about saying it!¡± she huffed, before any words could leave the lyrkress¡¯ mouth.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± The moose innocently tilted her head, which in turn, prompted the angry fox to pull on her cheeks. The role reversal had Arciel laughing, but no one else even seemed to notice. The party¡¯s eyes were focused on their surroundings, specifically, the ruins that lay at the bottom of the lake.


    Gathered around the dungeon¡¯s spiralling entrance were a series of ancient stones. They were covered in glowing runes that shimmered with a deep, yellow shade. It was almost like they were arranged to form buildings, but they were too long gone to say for certain.


    There wasn¡¯t any time to comment on the scenery, however, as they soon reached a point where the whirlpool¡¯s pull was present. The bug responsible for their transport peeled the bubble off of its back and pushed it towards the vortex. A few seconds of spinning later, they were swallowed right up.


    Having grown more sensitive to vectors, Claire found the whole ordeal to be somewhat strange. The method of teleportation was peculiar, completely different from anything she constructed for herself. The gates that she had learned to make from Sylvia were wrinkles in spacetime, distortions that connected two points so that they could be freely navigated between.


    The dungeon¡¯s portal was more of a hole. Everything fell through and a strange force she allegedly lacked the necessary permissions to identify separated out the various entrants and placed them back on the world¡¯s canvas.


    Log Entry 850561


    You have entered Karlsborg Alpha. Some of the monsters that lurk within this dungeon may prove challenging.


    Whatever the case, the end result was the same. The outside world was gone, replaced by the dungeon¡¯s scenery. Considering the amount of water by its doorway, the interior was impossibly dry. They were located in a massive field whose rolling hills extended as far as the eye could see. The accompanying grasses were green, so beautifully green that she almost felt the urge to eat them, but the ascended moose refrained. They were far too filthy, given the number of adventurers out and about.


    Most of the fighters on the first floor were still far from their first ascensions, and the monsters¡ªflightless birds, for the most part¡ªwere weak enough to wind up defeated regardless. If anything caught her attention, it was the sheer extent to which the field was open. There was nowhere to hide. The grass was short, not even reaching her knees, and the hills were small enough that one could easily see over them by taking to the air.


    Going between the floors changed nothing. In fact, the layout remained identical even after ten floors of progress. The only benefit was that the boss was always placed in the same position¡ªand that it was always either dead or dying. There was even a queue, wherein parties would take turns waiting to defeat it and harvest the accompanying materials.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ is it just me, or is this dungeon kinda boring?¡± asked Sylvia, as they entered the seventeenth floor. ¡°Are you sure this is the right one?¡±


    ¡°I have no doubts,¡± said Arciel. ¡°We need only to seek a greater depth.¡±


    ¡°I know the monsters are getting stronger, but exploring it sucks. The god who made this is even lazier than the god that made the dungeon Melly used to live in. Aren¡¯t they normally supposed to put in some effort at least?¡±


    ¡°It was probably the god of trade that installed it,¡± said Jules. ¡°Lohor doesn¡¯t give a shit how his dungeons look. All he cares about is whether they generate value.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! That¡¯s so boring,¡± complained Sylvia. ¡°Dungeons are supposed to be fun!¡±


    ¡°Some of them are made that way, but clearly, this isn¡¯t one of them,¡± said the clam. ¡°And it¡¯s not hard to see why, even if you are on the dumber side.¡±


    ¡°Hey! What¡¯s that supposed to mean!?¡±


    ¡°It means that the god that made this dungeon tried his damn best to make it stable. So, you know, the city outside wouldn¡¯t get overrun if shit hit the fan.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not really what I was asking,¡± pouted the fox. ¡°Plus, wouldn¡¯t they be able to get more value out of it if people actually enjoyed diving into it? More fun means more adventurers, which means more profit, right?¡±


    ¡°Normal people don¡¯t enjoy diving into dungeons,¡± said the clam. ¡°It¡¯s meant to be a job, and a gruelling one where you put your life on the line. Look, it really doesn¡¯t take much to put two and two together. The people that live here are aspiring merchants, not wannabe adventurers. Any adventuring they do is just a way for them to load up their wallets so they can get their businesses up and running. It¡¯s just a convenient means to an end that happens to have a whole economy built up around it. It¡¯s that fucking simple.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but no one¡¯s going to come if the dungeon is this boring, right guys?¡± Sylvia turned to the rest of the party and found herself sorely disappointed. None of its members were nodding or otherwise affirming her claim.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Negative,¡± said Sophia. ¡°I do not think it matters.¡±


    ¡°The layout being identical makes it really easy to navigate,¡± said Chloe. ¡°And it¡¯s not like each floor is all that big to begin with. I don¡¯t really think it¡¯s a problem.¡±


    ¡°Could argue that it¡¯s a pain in the neck to go deeper, but that¡¯s just how these things go,¡± said Ace.


    ¡°You guys suck.¡± bemoaned the fox. ¡°It matters lots, right Claire?¡±


    ¡°Not really. As long as there¡¯s experience to be gained.¡±


    ¡°What the heck!? You¡¯re supposed to agree with me, you stupid traitor!¡±


    The group continued to idly chat as they headed deeper and deeper into the dungeon. They had managed to reach the ninety-seventh floor by the time night fell, the monsters on which were roughly level three hundred. There weren¡¯t quite as many adventurers so far down the rabbit hole, and the few who were present generally did their best to spread out so as not to encroach on each other¡¯s domain.


    Though it was certainly late enough for the brigade to throw up its own tents, they only continued to move from floor to floor. Even for those without night vision, it was surprisingly easy to see through the darkness. The stars were bright, the moon was brighter, and the plains were filled with glowing bugs. Adding further to the already impressive illumination were bright white flowers, whose glimmering petals had only unfurled after the sun had set.


    If there were a reason to make camp, then it surely would have been the group¡¯s exhaustion, but Sylvia was the only one to show any signs of lethargy. The day¡¯s march had been more relaxing than usual. Most of their steps were walked on a gentle, downward slope, and they had even taken a solid break to explore the city and search for serviceable wares.


    They had come out of that particular process with a set of surprisingly decent finds. Ace had found himself a new sword, made of a steel alloy more robust than his previous blade, and Lana had acquired an axe that was twelve times the weight of her body. It wasn¡¯t particularly fancy, like the weapon that she had wielded as a pirate, but its weight paired perfectly with the extent to which her strength had blossomed. She just needed some practice to grow accustomed to the way it balanced.


    But as far as weapons went, none were quite as eye-catching as the sentient pair out and about. They more or less followed after their master, but so too did they deviate from her path. They wandered around the plains haphazardly, doing whatever it was they pleased. On occasion, the behaviour would get them chased or attacked, sometimes by adventurers who thought them rare prey, and other times by the monsters they played with or otherwise harassed. Claire wasn¡¯t watching too carefully, but the knife-footed, fire-breathing chickens on the ninety-ninth floor hadn¡¯t exactly seemed to like it when Boris flattened their nests in an effort to win a game of tag.


    Though the fleshless pair certainly enjoyed the expedition more than any of the other members, even they had highs and lows, with a low coincidentally hitting right as they finally made camp.


    The caldriess reached into her bag as they stopped and checked the wooden pocket watch that had come with Lia¡¯s diary. It was half past nine, a solid three hours later than the time they normally made camp. Feeling bored enough to help with the setup, Claire magically set the girls¡¯ tent in position and hammered the stakes into the ground.


    They had made it through another forty-odd floors since the sun had set¡ªshe had stopped keeping count at the three-digit mark¡ªand finally arrived at one that was empty. They even had to kill the boss at the end of the previous map for the portal to open.


    Like the monsters in the area around it, its level was still in the mid-four-hundred range, so she had thrown Chloe into its pit and forced her to kill it solo. Jules, who considered the maid to be a civilian, had readily voiced his disapproval, but everything turned out fine in the end.


    One quick meal later and Claire was left by her lonesome, standing guard around the fire while the others slept the night away. Her pets were the only ones with her. Sylvia was asleep on her head, two Borises were sitting in her lap, and even the spider was settled on her shoulder. Of course, there were more than two Borises present. There were four around the fire and another dozen or so still hovering around in Vel¡¯khan.


    Without much else to do¡ªthe monsters were too scared of her to draw near¡ªshe decided to review her status.


    ___


    Claire Augustus


    Health: 1328242/1328242


    Mana: 10005720/10005720


    Divinity: 279638/279638


    Health Regen: 330.3/second


    Mana Regen: 2618.1/second


    Divinity Regen: 7.76/second


    Ability Scores [x1.07] - 113998 Points Available


    - Agility: 50406


    - Dexterity: 76759


    - Spirit: 29685


    - Strength: 99141


    - Vitality: 28451


    - Wisdom: 88740


    Racial Class: Caldriess - Level 596.64


    - Cataclysm Convergence - Level 276.52


    - Realm of Eternal Frost


    - True Ice Manipulation - Level 200.53


    Titular Class: Witch of the Seventh Tempest - Level 24.80


    - Catgirl Affinity - Level 25


    - Essence Manipulation - 236.01


    - Heavenly Annihilation


    - Spirit Sorcery - Level 92.74


    Unclassed Skills


    - Artifact Manipulation - Level 15


    - Cadrian Court Etiquette - Level 25


    - Digging - Level 7.71


    - English - Level 25


    - Fishing - Level 16.50


    - Llystletein Authority++ - Level 34.63


    - Marish - Level 19.82


    - Napping - Level 30.94


    - Singing - Level 43.41


    - Sneaking - Level 28.15


    - Weapon Mastery - Level 267.68


    ___


    The numbers had changed significantly since she asked for her father¡¯s help, but she couldn¡¯t help but feel that they were still lacking. She wasn¡¯t going to be the only one to have answered Vella¡¯s call. There were surely a few among the inbound troops that had done the same.


    Moreover, even with the additional modifier, she felt like the more powerful soldiers would have her numbers blown out of the water. She didn¡¯t know how strong Pollux¡¯s men were exactly, but Durham¡¯s ability score total had been well into the millions. She would have to rely on her class-specific skills to make up the difference.


    Cataclysm Convergence


    This ability would provide a source of infinite energy, as well as an accompanying sinkhole of infinite destruction, but you apparently lacked the brain function to deduce that drinking Alfred¡¯s brew would have lasting side effects. While its outlandish functions are temporarily disabled, it does still provide you with a series of traits innate to your bastardized form.


    Effects


    - You may freely shift between your various forms.


    - You are highly resistant to heat, cold, and electricity.


    - You may imbue all attacks with destructive attributes.


    - You are immune to life, mana, and energy-draining effects.


    - You are capable of deflecting projectiles with your limbs and appendages.


    - Your skeleton, made of true ice, functions as a source of raw elemental power.


    - Your mystic eyes are capable of inflicting paralysis, madness, and destruction.


    - In combat, your ability scores will be increased proportionally to the amount of havoc wreaked.


    - Your physical attacks are imbued with the power of true ice. The damage you deal is increased, especially against those susceptible to the cold.


    Additional effects are to be added upon your body¡¯s restoration.


    Catgirl Affinity


    Catgirls find you irresistible. Looking upon you drives them to madness, even though there is little of note to be observed. The opposite is true as well, however, it appears that your trauma is serving you well, for once, as the memory of a specific catgirl keeps these side effects at bay.


    Effects


    - Your eyes¡¯ telescopic effects are enhanced.


    - You are capable of seeing catgirls through any number of objects.


    - You are capable of tracking prey within the maximum range of your vision.


    - The clothes that catgirls wear are invisible to you, save for when you seek to remove them.


    The solution to the catgirl problem had been long desired. But at the same time, she couldn¡¯t help but pause as she read through its justification for the thousandth time. It wasn¡¯t the solution she wanted.


    Essence Manipulation


    Your body is just as despicable as your degenerate mind. The gods wish for nothing to do with you and insist that you keep your prying fingers to yourself. Perhaps it may be worth ridding yourself of your catgirl fetish if you do not wish to appear to Flitzegarde as a woman as disgusting as a frog.


    Effects


    - You are capable of seeing and touching souls.


    - Your attacks leech health, mana, and divinity from your targets.


    - You may drain a significant amount of health, mana, and divinity from any target with which you are making direct contact.


    Heavenly Annihilation


    Did you know that mass extinction events are bad? Evidently, the answer is a resounding ¡°no.¡± Please be aware that, while the system does reward murder, ecocide and genocide are generally frowned upon. Of course, you would know this if you had any semblance of common sense, but you are so blind that you are unable to differentiate between an acceptable action and a war crime unless explicitly instructed.


    Effects


    - You are capable of launching an orbital strike that bypasses the Planetary Defence System.


    - Orbital strikes that you imbue with divinity leave cursed wounds. Cursed wounds cannot be healed unless they are purified.


    Additional effects are to be added upon your body¡¯s restoration.


    Many of their functions were still restricted. Though technically usable, not even everything listed could technically be used. Case in point, her sight-based spells. Her magic circuits were so damaged that trying to inflict madness and destruction would cause her eyes to explode right out of their sockets. And even then, there was a fair chance that the associated magic wouldn¡¯t go off. She had only managed to get destruction to work one of the twenty-odd times she tried it. She could always open more eyes, of course, but it wasn¡¯t exactly the most pleasant or worthwhile experience.


    She still needed more power.


    Sighing, Claire pulled her fox closer to her chest and started toying with her abilities. Her newfound vector-adjacent powers took center stage, largely thanks to the extended functionality and lack of recoil.


    She played around with the ability until she was relieved of guard duty, roughly halfway through the night. The magical clam that took her place crawled out of the men¡¯s tent and reluctantly shook himself awake.


    Returning to her own sleeping bag, Claire closed her eyes and sent her mind away.


    She wasn¡¯t particularly tired, but she found herself in the usual empty space in just a few heartbeats. She had already decided where to go ahead of time, so she pulled the key from her chest, unlocked the phantom¡¯s door, and proceeded through to the other side.


    The world was a lot more stable than it had been during her last visit. The phantom and his body had returned, and even Headhydra had somehow made herself present. But strangely enough, the man¡¯s body was the only individual still conscious. The spirit and the lizard were both sound asleep on the couch, with the ghost cuddled up between the hydra¡¯s necks. And his body of course paid her little to no attention.


    She did try waking them. Claire shook the hydra and the spirit but neither budged at all, so she directed her attention towards the door and eventually crept outside. She was expecting to find the strange city again, but the caldriess was greeted instead by a scene above the clouds.


    It was the man¡¯s village, the place that he had lived before the mysterious house. The beautiful village extended as far as the eye could see.


    Until it became a sea of flame.


    The hallucination only lasted for an instant, echoing through the back of her mind as she gazed upon its form. But then it came again, and again, and again. Every few seconds, the horrific scene flashed. His emotions invaded her mind. The rage he felt at its unjust destruction. The hatred he felt towards the perpetrator. And the fear he felt as he gazed upon the lion¡¯s jaws.


    She could tell that they were not her own emotions. They were not quite as invasive as Alfred¡¯s desires, placing themselves in a separate compartment as memories that belonged to another. But she could feel them nonetheless, seeping through the membrane like a viscous poison.


    And then, all of a sudden, the realm was gone. Replaced by a serene, cloudy scene that she knew all too well.


    Flux stood in front of her, her divine visage pursed into a guarded frown.


    ¡°Be careful,¡± she said. ¡°The lion has already played his hand.¡±

 Chapter 350 - Hubris VII

    Chapter 350 - Hubris VII


    ¡°The lion has already played his hand?¡± Claire repeated the goddess¡¯ words with a tilt of the head.


    Flux nodded. ¡°He will endeavour to meet you face to face. Do beware so that you might avoid his mark.¡±


    She turned around as soon as she said her piece. Waving a hand, she opened a massive portal, with its destination beyond the sky. There were glimmering stars, clouds of cosmic dust, and gargantuan planets. Their ring-bearing, water-clad bodies sat in close enough proximity that Claire could just barely make out their continents. It was a curious sight, almost as curious as the ever-expanding universe that lay beyond the verdant canvas.


    The goddess approached the portal with graceful steps. She nearly put half a foot through its door, but it closed before she could enter.


    Pausing briefly, she spun again and regarded the perpetrator, her eyes curiously fixed on her ever-blank expression. Flux could easily see right through it, but even so, Claire endeavoured to maintain her facade. She would never improve if she ran from the goddess¡¯ challenge.


    ¡°I already met him,¡± said the mortal. ¡°About a week ago.¡± She continued after a moment of silence. ¡°Did you not see him? I thought you were always watching.¡±


    ¡°I am in most scenarios,¡± said the goddess. ¡°But even I must occasionally avert my gaze, regardless of my intentions.¡±


    ¡°Creep.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps it has not yet dawned upon your simple mind, or perhaps you have simply been too heavily influenced by the degenerates that lurk within the Cadrian court, but there are reasons beyond violent attraction for which one might watch another.¡± The goddess pursed her lips. ¡°Where did you encounter the god of the hunt?¡±


    ¡°In a dungeon,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°The one where I met the raccoon.¡±


    ¡°And how did you react?¡±


    ¡°Normally?¡± Claire tilted her head. ¡°Until my body decided to attack him on its own.¡±


    ¡°Then you must not have been mistaken.¡± Her answer appeared to trouble the goddess, who furrowed her brow and crafted a box. After filling the console with inputs, she watched as it spewed line after line after egregiously long line. Her gaze only sharpened with each that she read, and she even clenched her teeth as the output scrolled to its end. ¡°My calculations should have been correct.¡±


    ¡°I believe we have been outmaneuvered.¡± Turning her eyes to the source of the voice, Claire found a distant cloud torn open. The hole was tiny at first, barely noticeable within the cumulus fortress, but it soon grew to a size through which her true form could fit.


    A pair of deities came through the portal, one an older gentleman in a suit, the other a mechanical spider. The words had come from the former god while the latter impressed herself upon the stage with a brilliant, mocking smile.


    ¡°Good evening, Claire, I see that my trials have done wonders for your progression,¡± she said. ¡°Oh, and hi to you too, Flux. It''s nice to see that you''re just as grumpy as you are every other day.¡± Her confidence persisted until the qilin turned her eyes in her direction. But even then, it was soon returned; her trembling lasted for a few moments at most.


    ¡°Why is she here?¡± Flux turned her glare to the dragon.


    ¡°I¡¯d have loved to turn her away, but this isn¡¯t the time to be fighting amongst ourselves.¡± The human-shaped lizard crossed his arms and flicked his chainlink tail. ¡°You¡¯ve heard the gist of it already. We''ve been had.¡±


    ¡°You will need to elaborate.¡±


    ¡°One of his servants found a way around your surveillance,¡± said Vella. ¡°This is why I warned you about being thorough.¡±


    Flux bit her lower lip. ¡°Please excuse me. I must speak with Griselda.¡± She opened another portal and entered the space beyond it, looking much more flustered than Claire had ever remembered.


    The abandoned qiligon was left with the dragon and the spider, both of whom turned their attention to her. They opened their mouths at the same time, but Vella quickly backed down and deferred to the other god. The unexpected behaviour certainly drew Claire¡¯s attention, but only until Builledracht began to speak.


    ¡°I know you probably aren¡¯t looking to become a true dragon, especially with only one mortal form left,¡± he said. ¡°But I¡¯d appreciate it if you could reproduce in either case.¡±


    Claire blinked, unsure of how to respond.


    ¡°I¡¯d be rather surprised if your children didn¡¯t check most, if not all of the boxes,¡± he said. ¡°Though I do suppose it depends on your partner.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re starting to sound like Alfred,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°His interests lie in the process. I only care for the result. We¡¯re completely different,¡± insisted the dragon. ¡°And I¡¯m not forcing you. You¡¯re free to ignore me if you want, but I do admit, I¡¯ll at least be a little disappointed.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll happen,¡± said Claire. She knew that her body had apparently acquired the capacity, following her second ascension, but her personal stance remained unchanged. All the associated urges she felt had come from external sources.


    ¡°That¡¯s simply because you have never experienced a heat cycle,¡± explained the dragon, as if reading her mind. ¡°Knowing Flux, she likely configured your internals to behave more like a qilin¡¯s, which would then imply a cycle with an interval in the three-year range. But even with her meddling, we can¡¯t be certain. It¡¯s always difficult to say with halfbreeds and chimeras, especially new species like yourself. If you do find yourself experiencing the violent urges that we dragons do, then I¡¯d like for you to come to one of my temples. I¡¯ll elaborate then on the traditional remedies we use to suppress them.¡±


    ¡°You are, of course, free to visit me instead,¡± said Vella, with a devilish smile.


    There was a moment of silence, accompanied by a pair of stares.


    ¡°Well, anyway, while I¡¯d hate to leave you alone with this¡­ degenerate, I¡¯ll have to take my leave as well. I doubt Flux and Griselda will be getting too far without my input.¡± He opened up a portal to the moon¡¯s domain and stepped through, craning his head around just as it started to close. ¡°One last thing, do endeavour to avoid the spider¡¯s affections. While she is unable to reproduce, on account of her immortality, I fear that she may affect your tastes if you allow her to do as she pleases, and I, for one, would certainly not be pleased for a draconic beast to exhibit arachnid behaviours.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t. I¡¯d rather die than listen to her.¡±


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°Good,¡± said the dragon.


    The world warped as soon as the portal closed behind him. The clouds fizzled out, and the sky was replaced by Vella¡¯s usual cathedral. The mechanical arachne was already seated, casually placed upon the massive throne tailor-made to match her frame.


    ¡°Surely death must be a bit of an exaggeration?¡± questioned the spider. ¡°Did you not just answer my call?¡±


    ¡°Not intentionally,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°I would have been more willing to believe the claim if you hadn¡¯t completed seven different challenges.¡±


    ¡°What else was I supposed to do?¡± Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°Did you want me to sit around for two full days?¡± It was a bluff, of course. With the abilities she had gained, following the elf¡¯s defeat, she could have left at any time. But evidently, the mechanical spider was too dumb to notice. She only averted her eyes, as would a guilty party.


    ¡°Will you not take my trial and duel me on even terms?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t pick fights I can¡¯t win,¡± said Claire.


    Vella sighed. ¡°You and your father both.¡±


    ¡°Do not compare me to my father.¡±


    ¡°Why not? The only thing that sets you apart is your competency.¡±


    Claire smiled, brilliantly. ¡°Oh, Vella! If you wanted more offerings, you could have just asked! I¡¯d love to share my cooking with you.¡±


    The goddess grimaced, visibly, but she quickly fixed her expression and forced a professional smile. ¡°S-so all of this offering business aside, there is something that I would like to address, a minor point of dissatisfaction.¡±


    Claire tilted her head.


    ¡°Can you stop feeding my weapons to your stupid lizard!?¡± The dam finally broke. The mask she tried so desperately to maintain cracked wide open and revealed the stupid potato that lay beneath it. She was the most unfortunate sort, already pre-boiled in saltless water with mash as the only decent future ahead.


    Hardly reacting to the outburst at all, the qiligon only shifted the angle of her neck. ¡°I buried the last one.¡±


    ¡°He dug it back up and ate it!¡± cried the spider.


    Claire blinked. Thrice.


    ¡°Here, just look!¡± Vella summoned a box, and after taking a few seconds to pluck away at its interface, spun it around so it faced the moose.


    A familiar scene was displayed on the projection. It showed a cabin in the woods, with a small patch of raised soil just outside its doorway. There were three lizards by the mound, each digging away with all the vigour of an elderly snail. The visual log was clearly sped up, but it still took about a minute for the lizard to complete his excavation.


    Two of the three ikaretts vanished as the task came to an end, while the last opened his mouth wide and shoved the buried treasure down his throat; he couldn¡¯t quite get the angle right, and frankly, it was longer than he was. Perhaps that was why his shape changed in light of the item¡¯s deletion. He was like a snake that had overeaten; one could very clearly make out the pile bunker through his bloated form.


    ¡°See!?¡± cried the spider, teary-eyed.


    ¡°I see what he did,¡± said Claire. ¡°But I don¡¯t see how it¡¯s my problem. Stop giving me things I don¡¯t want.¡±


    ¡°What the hell!? Do you know how badly everyone else wants my weapons!? Why can¡¯t you just accept my gift!? You accepted Starrgort, didn¡¯t you!?¡±


    ¡°That was a one-time thing. I won¡¯t be using him again. And I¡¯m never using your stupid pole on a stick.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! Please just try it! I spent hours, hours, tuning it to perfection. Can¡¯t you at least give it a swing!?¡±


    ¡°Do I need to repeat myself? Stop. Giving. Me. Things. I. Don¡¯t. Want.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not about what you want, it¡¯s about what you need,¡± said the goddess, quietly. ¡°Well, either way, you should still be able to use it thanks to the feature I installed during his ascension.¡±


    ¡°I refuse.¡±


    ¡°Oh, but you have no choice!¡± The goddess smiled. ¡°I only gave it to you because it¡¯s the only thing that¡¯ll let you worm your way out of certain death.¡± She took a moment to correct her tone and expression. ¡°I shall be watching, Daughter of Virillius. Prove your mettle. Do not disappoint me.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. She didn¡¯t even try to mask or hide her displeasure. ¡°You do realize, Goddess, that it¡¯s too late for you to salvage your dignity?¡±


    ¡°I-I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about!¡± cried the spider.


    ¡°That line only works if you¡¯re cute. And you, goddess, are not.¡±


    ¡°The nerve of this mortal, I swear!¡± groaned the goddess. ¡°Why couldn¡¯t you have just been a man? This would¡¯ve been so much easier.¡±


    ¡°I sincerely doubt that.¡±


    ¡°We can put that to the test,¡± said the goddess. ¡°Archimess still owes me a favour, and I know for a fact that he has mastered the procedure.¡±


    Claire stared at the goddess with her face perfectly blank. ¡°You¡¯re disgusting.¡±


    ¡°Oh, would you look at that? Little Miss Augustus is backing down from a challenge!¡± said the spider, with the world¡¯s most self-satisfied grin.


    ¡°This is why you have no friends.¡±


    ¡°I-I have plenty of friends. Y-you literally met them just the other day. There¡¯s Victor, Korrork, Shaw¡ª¡±


    ¡°Prisoners don¡¯t count.¡±


    The spider keeled over. It was a death blow, straight into her chest with the knife already twisted.


    ¡°Now if you¡¯ll excuse me,¡± said the mortal. ¡°I have better things to do. Goodbye.¡± Ignoring the pathetic excuse of a deity, Claire grabbed the key hidden in her chest and, with a hearty twist, escaped the goddess¡¯ realm.


    She expected to return to the void, but it was morning by the time she opened her eyes. The sun was already inching its way above the horizon, its dazzling light shining through the tent¡¯s entrance.


    On any other day, Claire would have occupied herself with some sort of physical activity, but she wasn¡¯t in the mood. Wandering over to the campfire instead, she traded nods with Lana, who immediately rose from her seat and wandered into the tent. There would be at least half an hour before breakfast, and a brief nap was still better than none at all.


    The lyrkress got to work as soon as she was left alone, with the work in question, of course, referring to the creation of a splendid offering. The campfire had already gone out, so she started by picking up a few half-burnt sticks and rubbing them together until they sparked to life. She opened up a portal to Vel¡¯khan once the flame was steady and grabbed a few items out of the kitchen.


    She knew better than to waste their supplies, especially when they were still being raided on occasion, so she engaged her authority skill and summoned one of the dishes whose ingredients came raw. The elf hot pot, which was marked with five glowing stars, was inordinately expensive. It consumed a whole seven million mana to craft, but Claire didn¡¯t mind. Her recovery rate was high enough to replenish her entire pool in about an hour.


    Of course, she was not so foolish as to cook the hotpot as it was intended. She immediately fed the eponymous container and its accompanying broth to Boris, who had remained by the campfire even after she went to bed. The lizard happily gobbled it up, leaving her with just the meats and vegetables meant to be boiled within it.


    She threw them onto her skillet, leaving them on the open flame until they suddenly caught fire. A skilled chef, of course, would have taken them off before they turned to ash, but she let them burn while she shaped a mound of dirt into a makeshift altar.


    ¡°O Vella, goddess of inappropriate leg-spreading and mental dysfunction.¡± She started speaking the so-called prayer whilst she dumped the pan¡¯s contents onto the tiny pedestal. ¡°I would like to bestow you an offering, a precious meal carefully prepared by the fairest maiden in all the Cadrian lands. I ask for nothing in return but for you to leave me alone. Forever.¡±


    For a moment, it looked like the offering would be automatically accepted, but it suddenly stopped glowing before it could disappear. The goddess in question had interfered with the usual system and denied the odiferous but clearly delicious present.


    An ordinary mortal would have acknowledged the deity¡¯s refusal and repurposed the food, but Claire was no ordinary mortal. She fiddled with her vectors, opened a small hole in spacetime, and sent the whole altar through.


    A scream came from the other side right as she closed the portal¡ªa scream that only encouraged a smile.


    It was entirely deserved. Such was the price for describing the lyrkress as her father¡¯s daughter.

 Chapter 351 - Hubris VIII

    Chapter 351 - Hubris VIII


    109833 - 3 - 1 - 1


    Dear Diary,


    We¡¯re now officially halfway through spring. We¡¯re in Skarnia now and I hate it. It¡¯s full of merchants, and no one ever eats anything but chicken. They¡¯re just as mean and greedy as the merchants back home, and they made Lina buy a sword. Master and Ms. Olga were mean as heck too. They watched them rip us off and didn¡¯t tell us until we wasted all the money we just earned! Isn¡¯t that really messed up!?


    Master said it was a good life lesson, but that¡¯s clearly a lie. We¡¯re going to get him back soon.


    Lia


    ___


    The second day of exploration was hardly any more interesting than the first. The party shuffled its way through the unchanging fields, unhindered and practically unopposed. The few monsters that challenged them were mowed down without mercy, decimated by little more than a wave of the hand. The only entertainment they had was conversation; they chatted idly about random topics of little importance as they made their way into the depths.


    They cleared roughly twenty floors before lunch and another thirty or so by dinner. Their progress could have been much quicker, but Claire continued to task Chloe with every boss they found along the way. The training itself was somewhat effective, especially with the whole party critiquing her possible areas of improvement, and compatibility ensured that the fights were completed at a decent pace. The bosses, like all the dungeon¡¯s other monsters, were flightless birds that fought with a focus on speed and agility.


    Claire had tried to convince the half-vampire to eat the creatures¡¯ souls, but she refused. For sex demons, intercourse was a necessary part of the process, and though belief in the claim was shaky, Chloe insisted that her chastity was yet preserved.


    Day three didn¡¯t go by quite as quickly. The monsters started getting tougher and tougher; the mutant chickens, dodos, ostriches, rheas, and emus suddenly spiked in power around the two-hundredth floor. Their defences were still lacking¡ªeach individual could still be taken down with just a few well-aimed hits¡ªbut they started attacking in much larger groups, and they grew swift enough to threaten the party¡¯s backline.


    Surprisingly, they found that there were still a few other groups holed up within the dungeon¡¯s depths, perhaps even more than had populated the space in between. Most of the groups were heavily armoured and relied extensively on their purchased equipment. Their metal shields stopped the birds in their tracks, allowing them to counterattack with practiced ease.


    By contrast, the Vel¡¯khanese brigade was scantily clothed. Ace was the most heavily armoured, and a simple breastplate was all the lizard had. That was likely why they earned as many looks as they did. The other adventurers skeptically cast their eyes towards them, with some of their members even spreading the rumour that the newcomers were looking for death. Claire was really the only one to hear it, however, and she couldn¡¯t be bothered to make any corrections.


    And so they continued, all the way down to the point where the dungeon finally changed.


    They had long lost track of the floor¡¯s number. There were no markers, nor any other signs of the location they reached. The only thing they knew was that the monsters were level six-fifty and that the exit was replaced by a giant, swirling gate.


    ¡°What a strange portal,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Mmmnnn, seems pretty normal to me,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯s just a shortcut that lets you get out of the dungeon super quick. It¡¯s kinda like the one we set up at the bottom of that one dungeon.¡±


    ¡°Are you referring to the Ironclad Abyss? The one where we mistakenly placed Claire in charge?¡±


    ¡°Mhm!¡±


    Ignoring their gossip, the lyrkress examined the doorway, only to groan aloud. The vectors made it immediately apparent. The portal led back outside, and there was nothing, nothing, on the floor that had made the journey worth their time. The boss monster was a level seven-hundred, nine-headed turkey that exploded as soon as a very frustrated Claire looked in its direction. There was nothing it could do before the forces that tore its body apart.


    Its death came with a minor distortion in spacetime. A wooden block dropped out of the tear and fell right into Claire¡¯s hands. It was inscribed with a poorly drawn sketch of a thoraen warrior flexing his bulging arms. There was a six-legged ostrich collapsed in the frame behind him, drawn with Xs in place of its eyes. Flicking her tongue in annoyance, she stepped on the wooden block without a word and crushed it, only for another to fall from the sky in its place. She destroyed that one as well, swiping at it with her talons and shredding it, but not before she saw the story told by its ink. It showed the man that had stolen her prey, sound asleep with his belly full and a happy grin plastered across his face.


    It was the cheapest kind of provocation. But that was exactly why it worked. Everyone¡¯s eyes were on her, their brows raised at the strange behaviour.


    ¡°We wasted our time,¡± she said. ¡°Our enemies beat us to it.¡±


    ¡°Are you certain that this portal does not simply lead to it?¡± asked Arciel.


    Claire nodded. ¡°That leads back outside.¡±


    ¡°How curious.¡± Arciel began walking towards the portal, but Claire grabbed her by the scruff and reined her back in. ¡°It¡¯s one way.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± said Ace. ¡°The Cadrians are waiting on the other side.¡±


    ¡°They might be,¡± said Claire. ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡± She contemplated opening another portal with an identical destination, but she was stopped before she could.


    ¡°Well, ain¡¯t that convenient?¡± The lizardman drew his sword and pointed it straight towards her. ¡°That¡¯s enough out of you, Miss Augustus. The jig¡¯s up.¡± Three of the others immediately prepared for combat in time with his provocation. Sophia raised her fists, Krail lowered his stance, and Jules grabbed a wand from within his shell. Each had already taken a position prior to the lizard¡¯s announcement¡ªthey had her completely surrounded.


    Arciel, Matthias, Chloe, and Lana took seats on the sidelines, the first three because they knew the lyrkress personally, and the lattermost to declare her nonparticipation. Sylvia soon joined them; she was floated off her favourite chair and into the monarch¡¯s arms.


    ¡°You¡¯re an idiot,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°You ain¡¯t wrong. You played us for fools for a good few weeks,¡± agreed the lizardman. ¡°Intel¡¯s clearly been leaking like a broken faucet. They always know where we are, and we always walk straight into their traps. Now, like you said, I ain¡¯t all that smart, but it¡¯s looking an awful lot like we¡¯ve got a rat in the mix.¡±


    ¡°And you think it¡¯s me?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you want me to say, Miss. You¡¯re the only Cadrian here. The story writes itself.¡±


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°It is suspicious that they always know where we were.¡± Boris appeared in her left hand as she spoke, his shape in its usual default. ¡°But it wasn¡¯t me. And even if it was, this is just plain stupid.¡± Her face was as blank as usual. ¡°You don¡¯t stand a chan¡ª¡±


    Her words were cut off by a dozen explosions. The spot where she stood burst into brilliant flame. Claire, however, remained unbothered. She stood in the wildfire without the slightest hint of care. She took no more than one point of damage each second¡ªfar less than what her regeneration restored. Her resistance certainly played a part, but it came second to the caster¡¯s intention. The spell was never meant to damage.


    Its role was to distract.


    Krail was chanting. Quickly. The words rolled off his tongue twenty at a time. His mana surged like water from a spring, and he even reacted and backed away as soon as she looked in his direction. But his cast still ended in failure. She pulled on his tongue, using just enough strength to inconspicuously butcher his chant and shatter his spell to pieces.


    The two close-quarters combatants closed the gap in the meantime. She could have easily strung them up with her vectors, but she decided against it. It was the perfect chance to work off her stress.


    Sophia, she met with her fists. Handing Boris off to her tail, she matched the kelpfin¡¯s punches tit for tat, parrying each hand perfectly with her own. A strange magical force pulsed through her bones each time they clashed, but Claire was unaffected. Her casual dress was the only thing to take damage, and it was quickly restored.


    Ace, in the meantime, she parried with her tail. She did the exact same thing she had done to the kelpfin and mirrored each of his blows with a swing of the lizard; Boris had been configured to perfectly reflect the shape of his sword. With two fighters on one side and one on the other, they were evenly matched. Until she suddenly changed up her approach.


    Her tail wrapped around both the kelpfin¡¯s wrists, while her lizard was shifted to her hands. Rather than moving to parry Ace¡¯s blade, she delivered a one-handed swing whilst lightly pushing on his forearm and moving his weapon out of her way.


    He immediately shifted into a dodge, but it was ineffective. Claire tightened her grip on his body and pulled him back into her strike. She blunted Boris at the very last moment. The man didn¡¯t die, but his lungs were winded and his ribs were bruised


    Jules was their only saving grace. He conjured up a series of explosions and forced the lyrkress to release the shark. Krail, on the other hand, was interrupted yet again. She cancelled his grand magic in much the same manner as she had before. The clam¡¯s explosions kept coming in the meantime. He conjured them at such a rapid pace that they seemed impossible to dodge, but watching his eyes, Claire danced between them, lightly skirting from place to place like a skater in the rink.


    The dance lasted until he grew tired of her predictions. And switched his magic from red to blue.


    The combination of water and arcane was not quite as well-known as that of arcane and fire, but it was every bit as rare and potent. He crafted a hundred glowing balls with a sweep of the hand, each of which fired a thin but deadly projectile. They almost resembled lasers, but any light involved was purely coincidental, a result of the raw energy that the process entailed. Every single tiny blade was one of pure mana, altered to embody the properties that water held. Just as how red magic was configured for fiery explosions, blue magic could wash all matter away.


    Any object or person unfortunately struck would be subject to accelerated erosion. Flesh would be peeled, bone dissolved, and stone quickly washed away. The wave of incoming projectiles looked almost impossible to dodge. The orbs appeared in every direction, pelting her with attacks from all around. There were only two exceptions; the attack was perfectly constructed to avoid the clam¡¯s associates.


    It would have been a serviceable plan had her agility not risen fivefold.


    She appeared behind Ace in the blink of an eye and slammed Boris into the back of his knees. She wasn¡¯t as fast as the subpar cottontail that had previously removed his arm. He could still follow her with his eyes. But the rest of his body was not quite as capable. He was unable to keep her from escaping the box where the mage¡¯s spell would tear her flesh asunder.


    Jules was next. Unlike Krail, he didn¡¯t chant his spells. The time it took for him to cast them was short enough that they couldn¡¯t be interrupted from anything but point-blank. And that was where she aimed. He blew up his surroundings the moment the lizardman fell, but Claire charged right through the bursting flames. He closed his shell as a last-ditch defence. He prepared and unleashed a torrent of blue magic for when she forced it open, but not even that was enough. She dodged the spraying pellets, ripped his wand out of his hand, and kneed him in the face.


    Krail finally managed to finish a spell right as she incapacitated the other mage. He chanted even faster than he had before, spitting out three pages of words in no more than two seconds. From the way his eyes and nose were bleeding, it was clear that he was using another spell to crack his limits open.


    To her surprise, the attack he launched was not a wave of arrows, but rather a burst of his race¡¯s signature wood magic. Every single plant on the floor suddenly angled its tip towards her. They grew and blossomed, draining power from the dungeon¡¯s soil before taking their respective actions.


    The grasses were like blades, sharp enough to cut through steel, while the flowers were inhibitors, filling her eyes with a storm of dense pollen that made it impossible to see. Falling back on her ears, she deployed her vectors as quickly as possible and wrenched the individual plants from the earth that contained them.


    Claire punched the elf in the face while he stood with his mouth agape, before turning to Sophia, who only raised her arms in surrender.


    ¡°Don¡¯t give up,¡± said Ace. His legs weren¡¯t broken, but they were wobbly enough that he struggled to stand. ¡°Buy me a few seconds. I¡¯ll take her down right after.¡±


    ¡°Orders received.¡± Sophia placed herself between them, perhaps expecting the lyrkress to charge, but Claire did nothing. She simply watched the bipedal lizard as he went ahead with his preparations.


    The man grabbed his own tongue and ripped it out of his throat. It seemed like a silly, pointless act at first, but she quickly recognized the runes engraved on its base. They were some of the few that had stuck with her through her study. Because they referred to the gods and the sacrifices that they demanded.


    Setting down his tongue in front of him, Ace held it to the sky and muttered a series of incoherent words. The lyrkress was the only one to understand them. Because while his lack of a tongue certainly impeded his speech, the motions of his lips were as they had always been.


    ¡°O goddess of half-truths and broken vows. Master of secrets hidden and exposed. I beseech to you to release the fetters that I myself imposed.¡±


    Claire had always had questions about Ace¡¯s strange lack of ability. His senses clearly outstripped his body by far. It always felt like there was something missing from his kit. He certainly had a few interesting tricks sequestered up his sleeve, but almost seemed too weak for a soldier as clearly trained and disciplined as he was. She had assumed that he was hiding his strength, either that or he had only been educated much later in his career.


    And from the way that things were looking, it seemed that the former theory was more correct. He didn¡¯t have four warrior classes like she had initially suspected. The sheer amount of faith-based energy that exuded from his body revealed his status as one dedicated to the gods above. At least one of them had to be priest or priest-adjacent, and it couldn¡¯t have been his race on account of his non-caustic blood. And that alone changed his classification entirely. Ace was not a warrior. He was one of the enlightened few who spread the word of the truly divine.


    He was a paladin.


    And his goddess was by his side.


    That much was clear from the way that his equipment changed. The shoddy weapons strung across his waist and back had transformed into brilliant, blessed blades. The cheap cloth that always adorned his person had been replaced by a suit of holy armour. It shone vividly in Altea¡¯s colours, green and black, with the goddess¡¯ symbol painted in the former, and everything but the edges dyed in a shade of the latter.


    He charged as soon as his tongue returned, rushing her down with all the vigour that the goddess had bestowed. He was much faster than he was before, and significantly stronger as well. In his suppressed state, his ability scores had rested at half their true values.


    His holy blade extended as he swung it, performing an almost Boris-like behaviour as it grew into a claw that left no route of escape.


    The symbol in his armour shone right before impact, further boosting his speed to a point even greater than hers. It was the effect of his faith. In exchange for this faith, his zealotry skill ensured that he was not left behind. A week or so prior, it likely would have worked. He might have overwhelmed her with a barrage of fierce blows.


    But Claire lightly pulled on his wrist in the middle of his swing and directed it entirely off course.


    A puzzled look appeared on his face. He didn¡¯t seem to understand¡ªa brand of confusion with which she was intimately familiar.


    The lyrkress gave him no time to think. Another yank later and he was on the ground, her foot placed over the back of his neck and her blade buried right next to his face.


    He was confused and unsettled, but the caldriess¡¯ mood was fixed. She could, without a doubt, affirm that her training had produced the results she wanted.

 Chapter 352 - Hubris IX

    Chapter 352 - Hubris IX


    ¡°I would have killed you if I was on their side.¡±


    Claire lifted her foot off the lizardman¡¯s back and glanced around the camp. Sophia had surrendered again, and the two mages that had attacked her were both still keeled over, groaning in pain and clutching their faces. She was at least fairly confident that she hadn¡¯t broken anything, but it was difficult to say with the boost to her strength. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure exactly how much she needed to hold back.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t think you were good enough to trounce us,¡± said the lizard, with a groan. He slowly pushed himself into a seated position and rested his face in his hands. ¡°The theory made lots of sense, with how much we thought you were holding back.¡±


    Claire simply nodded, choosing to keep silent on the fact that much of her strength was newly acquired. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re wrong,¡± she said. ¡°There is probably a mole. But it isn¡¯t me.¡±


    She looked around the camp again and carefully scanned each person¡¯s face for any signs that might have given them away. But as she expected, none of them betrayed any obvious cracks. It was the expected result. Whoever it was had fooled everyone else for the entire journey¡¯s duration. She doubted that they were unskilled enough to reveal themselves just because they had been called into question.


    ¡°Sylvia,¡± whispered the lyrkress.


    ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking, and it¡¯s not gonna work,¡± replied the fox, just as quietly. ¡°I can only read surface level tho¡ªer, I mean I can¡¯t read minds!¡± She was still in Ciel¡¯s embrace, wrapped up in the tightest of squeezes.


    ¡°Just do it.¡±


    ¡°Ugh¡­ fine.¡± Huffing aloud, the fox closed her eyes and pumped her mana into their surroundings. ¡°Mmmmnnn¡­ it¡¯s about what I thought. No one¡¯s thinking anything suspicious.¡±


    ¡°Even though we¡¯re talking about it?¡±


    ¡°Mhm. Everyone¡¯s already kinda zoned out already anyway.¡±


    Claire blinked.


    ¡°Lana¡¯s really focused on her balance, Chloe¡¯s thinking about Ciel¡¯s boobs, and Matty is wondering why his claws are bigger than his face.¡±


    ¡°What about the lizard and his cronies?¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ Ace has a headache, Jules thinks Ace is an idiot, Krail is coming up with some weird crockpot conspiracy about the gods, and Sophia is thinking about lunch. She really wants to eat tuna.¡±


    ¡°And are you sure that last part isn¡¯t you talking?¡±


    ¡°Super sure!¡±


    Claire paused for a moment to consider the results. It was always possible that there wasn¡¯t really a traitor at all, and that the Cadrian spymasters had used their party¡¯s unique composition to predict their course from its history. But assuming that Panda¡¯s intel was correct, she doubted that was how they found them. Their enemies were too hot on the trail.


    In the end, it was as the fox had claimed. It was impossible for her to pierce the traitor¡¯s guise.


    ¡°Guess that just leaves the raccoon,¡± said the lizard, after a few moments of silence.


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    Panda was her first guess as well, but while he was certainly suspicious, she doubted his guilt. His grudge was genuine, and he was clearly annoyed by her willingness to confront the marquis¡¯ army. From what she could tell, his primary concern was the chance of failure. All he wanted was to ensure that they took down her father. And that, in all likelihood, was also why he had disappeared. He was probably exploring an alternative in case her supposed stupidity saw the party eliminated. With a traitor in their midst, they could afford no losses. Even a single legitimate fighter¡¯s demise would flush their already slim chance at victory all the way down the drain.


    And that was precisely why she refused to protest the raccoon¡¯s innocence. It would be easier to catch the mole if they were lulled into a false sense of security.


    ¡°Now, I believe we may count this matter settled?¡± said Arciel. Her fan was raised to her lips, hiding an amused smile.


    Claire nodded and looked at Ace, who reluctantly did the same.


    ¡°Gotta make sure we interrogate Mister Panda when he returns, but that¡¯s about the gist of it,¡± he said.


    ¡°Man, what the fuck!?¡± complained Jules. ¡°I only stooped to this shit because you said you were sure it was her. Are you really about to let her convince you in like ten fucking words?¡±


    ¡°I would have killed you if I was your enemy,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Yeah, and you fucking said that already. It didn¡¯t convince me the first time. Why the fuck do you think it would work the second!?¡±


    ¡°Relax.¡± Claire grabbed the top half of the clam¡¯s shell and slowly closed his lid. ¡°Use your head.¡±


    He tried pushing back and shouting in protest, but his resistance was summarily ignored. The lyrkess looked around the camp in the meantime, and eventually found her eyes on Sophia. ¡°You. Explain.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡± The landshark replied with a nod. ¡°I will provide an explanation once you have lifted his lid. I do not believe that he is capable of hearing one in his current circumstance.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    The man was still fuming when he was released from detention, but at the very least, he was no longer shouting, and he seemed somewhat willing to listen.


    ¡°I will now begin my explanation,¡± said Sophia. ¡°The most effective method of crippling the Vel¡¯khanese force is to eliminate us. She could have done so at any point in time. Therefore, it is safe to assume that she does not have hostile intentions.¡±


    ¡°Motherfucker! You literally just said the same shit she did!¡± cried the indignant clam. ¡°How the fuck do you know she ain¡¯t got any more shit up her sleeve?¡±


    ¡°Understood. Please provide an example so that I may provide a targeted explanation.¡±


    ¡°This could just be a huge distraction from whatever it is they¡¯re plotting.¡±


    ¡°Negative. Our murder would have served as a more potent distraction.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but then why the fuck didn¡¯t she show us how strong she was if she didn¡¯t have anything to hide!?¡±


    ¡°I do not understand the question. As was evident from the previous battle, many of us still held our cards in reserve.¡± Of the four that had participated, Sophia was the only one who hadn¡¯t pulled any new tricks out of the old hat.


    ¡°She could be fattening us up so that she can turn us into experience.¡±


    ¡°Negative. Scenario is highly unlikely. It would be a much more efficient use of time for a Cadrian to visit a dungeon. Cadrian territories are filled with monsters whose levels are in excess of a thousand. Some are easier to kill than sentient fighters.¡±


    ¡°A-alright, sure, but who¡¯s to say that she isn¡¯t just trying to humiliate us? To feed whatever sadistic bullshit she¡¯s into.¡±


    The maid paused. She slowly looked between Claire and the clam before blinking a few more times. ¡°Affirmative. The scenario that you have suggested is not entirely unlikely. Recomputing the possibility that Claire is the traitor.¡±


    That, of course, earned her a light smack on the head.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re thinking, but you¡¯re wrong,¡± grumbled the lyrkress.


    ¡°Well, all of that aside, I do see that the two of you have quite a bit of talent for trying to see the world for what it really is.¡± At some point, Krail had appeared behind the two speculators. ¡°Have you ever considered joining the elven church of truth? We¡¯re always looking for bright, you¡ª¡±


    Another smack ended the conspiracy theorist¡¯s rant.


    ¡°Stop that,¡± said Claire. ¡°We¡¯re not elves. We don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°Let him have his fun,¡± said Ace, with a groan. ¡°Not like we¡¯re gonna be doing anything while we recover.¡± He lightly touched the back of his knees and winced. ¡°The hell did you do to my legs anyway? They can barely move.¡±


    ¡°I hit them.¡±


    ¡°Ain¡¯t what I meant and you know it.¡± Sighing, the lizardman stuck his two-handed blade in the ground and leaned his back against it. He then mumbled an oath to his goddess under his breath and dispelled his equipment¡¯s transformation. The glimmering armour vanished, leaving only a cheap cloth hanging over his muscular frame.


    ¡°I hit them a little too hard by accident,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Not really sure that counts as a better answer.¡±


    The lyrkress shrugged.


    ¡°In either case, I believe we should discuss our plans,¡± said Arciel. ¡°How likely is it that the Cadrians are awaiting our departure?¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Panda hadn¡¯t spoken in enough detail for her to determine the time of the enemy¡¯s arrival.


    ¡°Perhaps then it would be worthwhile to send Matthias through?¡± suggested the squid. ¡°He is durable, and his runecloak shall serve to prevent his detection.¡± The praying mantis had used his invisibility cloak a few times on the trip already. It was helpful because it obscured key parts of his body in combat, but the monsters they challenged hadn¡¯t exactly tried to read his movements, and he hadn¡¯t any time to activate its effect during the cottontail¡¯s raid.


    ¡°Mmmmnnnn¡­ they¡¯ll probably be able to tell that something came out, even if he is invisible,¡± said Sylvia. She wriggled her way out of Arciel¡¯s arms and ran over to the doorway in question. ¡°Yeah, it looks kinda like the type that¡¯d suddenly appear on the other side and stuff.¡±


    ¡°Then I suppose we have little choice but to call upon our final resort,¡± muttered the squid.


    ¡°Or we could just fight them,¡± suggested Claire. ¡°It¡¯ll be good experience. And a chance for us to gauge the levels we¡¯ll need to reach.¡±


    ¡°I do not disagree that it would be worthwhile, but I would rather we avoided a head-on confrontation.¡±


    Claire paused for a second to think. ¡°It¡¯ll end up the same whether they¡¯re watching the entrance or not. We can¡¯t sneak up on them if they have battlecruisers in the air. We could disguise ourselves, but it doesn¡¯t really matter if we do it now or later.¡±


    ¡°It would certainly make no difference if we all attacked in tandem,¡± she agreed. ¡°But a sneak attack with Matthias¡¯ cloak would become a viable alternative.¡±


    ¡°Hold on,¡± said Ace. ¡°I¡¯m lost. You¡¯ve been talking like we¡¯ve got a choice.¡±


    ¡°We possess a means of escape that will ensure our enemies are thrown off our scent,¡± said Arciel. ¡°And we are debating if its use is worthwhile.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t,¡± said Claire. ¡°Flitzegarde told me not to use it. Especially not in front of any potential enemies.¡±


    ¡°The goddess of order? And not the goddess of the flow? Was it not to her that you were sworn?¡±


    ¡°The demand came from the goddess of order,¡± said Claire. ¡°When I visited her temple.¡±


    The squid breathed a sigh. ¡°And you are certain that you are not simply conjuring this event out of thin air, so that you may provide yourself an excuse to engage the enemy?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not. We can¡¯t avoid detection. We only have two choices. Fight or run.¡±


    ¡°And here I was under the impression that your solutions were on the more creative side.¡± Ciel snapped her fan shut. ¡°But no matter, I suppose. Let us consider a head-on confrontation.¡±


    Claire tilted her head and blinked. ¡°Who said anything about fighting head-on?¡±


    ¡°Did you not just claim that we were incapable of deception?¡±


    ¡°Foul play is still in the cards.¡± A smile crossed her lips. ¡°And it so happens that I have a plan.¡±


    ¡°Whyever did I think otherwise?¡± muttered the queen. ¡°And how risky do you believe this plan to be?¡±


    ¡°Not very,¡± said Claire. ¡°These are Pollux¡¯s men. I¡¯m the only one they¡¯re after.¡±


    ¡°Let us hear it then.¡±


    Nodding, Claire began to elaborate on the scheme she had just recently conjured.


    ___


    It was late in the evening. Dinner was already eaten and the accompanying utensils were put away. Most of the party¡¯s members had already retired to their tents, with only three of them remaining out and about.


    Being the night owl that she was, Chloe was still wide awake and attending to her duties. The most important task was to repair the party¡¯s clothing. Thread and needle in hand, she patched up any torn garments she found before throwing them in with everything else still yet to be washed.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    To her dismay, the laundry itself was done on an infrequent basis. They couldn¡¯t afford to fill their packs with bundles upon bundles of clothes whilst they were out in the field, and they would oftentimes go to bed without even wiping themselves down. Claire aside, if she could even be counted, all of the mammalian humanoids practically reeked of sweat.


    Though exempt from exuding strange odours, the more insect, fish, and reptile-like members were hardly any better off. Whatever parts they used to walk across the ground were completely covered with grime, and being water-dwelling or at least amphibious, half of them didn¡¯t feel any better until they were bathed. Of course, one could not simply ask for a bath in the midst of the average raid and expect to receive, but with fire, ice, and wood at their disposal, they could easily put a half-decent bath together.


    Ace and Matthias were the last two to finish their nightly routines and the last two still by the camp¡¯s fire. With the former not tired just yet and the latter on duty that night, the warriors spent their time in silence. Matthias closed his eyes and made himself comfortable while the lizard lit a cigar and filled his lungs with smoke.


    The only sounds they heard, besides those of the monstrous birds, came from the crackling fire, the humming maid, and their snoring companions. Simply tolerating each others¡¯ existence, they took turns throwing bundles of grass into the evening flame. It wasn¡¯t until Ace reached for a second smoke that any words were exchanged.


    ¡°Want one?¡± He held one of the luxury items out to his silent companion, who replied with a faint nod.


    Given his species¡¯ lack of lungs, one might have expected that he was unable to enjoy the intoxicating fumes, but that was a problem his species had long solved. He adjusted his cloak so it covered his abdomen and placed the lit instrument beneath it. The smoke naturally wafted up to the airholes that lined the side of his body and worked its chemicals straight into his blood.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said.


    And then, another good bit of silence. The pause was not particularly awkward. Neither warrior was concerned by the other¡¯s lack of attention.


    ¡°Why¡¯re you working for the crown anyway?¡± asked Ace, after almost half a cigar. ¡°You don¡¯t look native, at least.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a long story,¡± said the mantis. He laughed to himself, softly. ¡°But I don¡¯t really mind sharing if you insist.¡±


    Ace popped open the pouch on his waist and quickly looked over its contents. ¡°I¡¯ve got another eight smokes. You think that¡¯s long enough?¡±


    ¡°Alright, it¡¯s not that long.¡± The mantis scratched the back of his head with the butt of his scythe. ¡°But it starts almost a hundred years back. I was fresh out of the nest, cocky, up my own ass. You know how it is.¡±


    The lizardman nodded.


    The fire crackled.


    And Chloe crept closer.


    She had always wanted to hear Matthias¡¯ story, but she had never really had the chance to ask it. Though they both reported to Arciel directly, they worked in completely different divisions and only ever crossed each other¡¯s paths on duty. And though she didn¡¯t act the part, Chloe was still the head maid; her subordinates often peppered her with decisions as a means of avoiding responsibility.


    The former human¡¯s body didn¡¯t come with any particular features to aid in eavesdropping, like ears that could be lifted overhead, so she had no choice but to scoot as close to the fire as she could. She had every intention of catching all the juicy details.


    Her patron deity, however, had other plans. He cast a spell as soon as she poked her head out from around the corner and summoned her into his realm. Her world distorted, warped, and spun, spiralling out of control until her senses suddenly returned. When she finally peeled herself off the floor, the vampiric sex demon found herself whisked to a mysterious space.


    It was not her first time visiting his pocket dimension, but she took a moment to take in the sights regardless, scanning the infinitely tall shelves and the books that lay within as her heart pumped with unbearable excitement.


    She knew that the celestial¡ªSylvia had told her plenty about him since her last visit¡ªwas waiting, but she began by approaching the shelves regardless. Panting and blushing, she slid her fingers across the tomes until the index was sucked right into her mind. And then, she pulled a very specific book right off its shelves. Taking a moment to glance at the cover, and subsequently gulping in a way that only a pervert could, she pressed it to her chest and assimilated all of its contents. They were ported straight into her mind, changed so she could enjoy them at any point in time.


    The deity went about his own business as she did hers. He didn¡¯t mind at all that she had assimilated his property. He had no need for a textbook that described her mistress¡¯ sexual biology. After all, he was the one who penned it after imitating her form and running a series of experiments, and it wasn¡¯t like she was taking it without his permission; their agreement stipulated that she could have a book each time she visited his gaol, and that he would prepare anything she requested should she inform him in advance.


    To claim it right away certainly professed a particular set of priorities, but again, Alfred didn¡¯t mind. It was precisely the faithfulness to one¡¯s desire that drew the line between the lewd and the chaste; it was precisely because she knew what she wanted that she could work towards it.


    To ask her to delay her objective in favour of pleasing a deity, especially one that was only halfway to true godhood, was to deny his own past and dismiss the accompanying creed.


    She did eventually approach, albeit only after taking a few minutes to skim through the thousand-page book. The first chapter alone contained every bit of knowledge she could have possibly wanted to learn, and the remaining nineteen only proved that the rabbit hole went deeper than she had ever imagined.


    ¡°Hello,¡± she said. She knew his name, but the man had never used it himself. Time wasn¡¯t a factor in his lack of introduction. All of their historical meetings had been of the lengthier variety, and they had skipped all the formalities each time. From the looks of it at least, the man intended to do the same again. Leaning forward in his seat, he twisted his lips into a grin and passed a drink to the kindred spirit.


    It was the same thing that he had given her before¡ªa drink spiced with the powerless residue that his soul-draining process created. Though a waste product, it was certainly not without its uses, the most obvious of which was its flavour. It tasted just like ether, which, for demons like himself, was the most delicious substance that one could ever know.


    The tea was best when it was piping hot, but Chloe set it aside. She had already wet herself once in front of him already; any further consumption would have to wait until she was by her lonesome.


    While another deity might have found the display disrespectful, Alfred only laughed it off. He leaned forward in his seat, a small grin on his face as he placed a set of vials on the table. Each was filled with a fine, salt-like material, different only in how they reflected the light. Certain angles caused the grains to shimmer with a bright, iridescent glow. There were so many different colours and shades that her eyes could barely process them. But even with its fancy appearance, the seasoning''s function was largely unchanged. It was meant to be sprinkled into a dish in the midst of its preparation. Another gift from the demigod to the mortal he blessed.


    "Thank you," she said.


    "I don''t suppose that means it''s working well?" he asked, with a knowing grin.


    Chloe bobbed her head excitedly. "It''s working wonders. Her bras almost don''t fit anymore."


    The substance in question was one of Alfred''s oldest inventions, produced during the ancient time in which he was still a god-king. It only had one effect¡ªto increase the size of an individual''s breasts with continued consumption. Needless to say, the maid was feeding it to her mistress without any semblance of explicit consent, not that it was necessary to begin with. It was a maid¡¯s duty to maximize her mistress¡¯ beauty, after all.


    Arciel''s breasts may have been the most attractive, eye-catching pair that the pervert had ever seen, but they were very slightly lacking in volume. With their shape as they were, Chloe was convinced that they would be even more appealing if they grew by 3.172 percent, and her patron deity had readily agreed. After taking more time than necessary to lecture her on the quantification of beauty and its mathematical implications, he gave her the perfected drug and sent her off to do as she pleased.


    There were no direct side effects, save for the emphasis of her extant back pain and numbness, but Chloe had readily compensated by massaging her mistress¡¯ shoulders each evening. It was difficult to say which of the two really enjoyed the sessions more, but in either case, the up-close view allowed Chloe to observe the precise extent of the drug''s effects. In the few days that her mistress was under its influence, her breasts had slowly but certainly expanded without any hints of losing their form. It was the perfect solution, and she only needed more of the substance to be molded into Chloe''s perfect ideal.


    Of course, her plan had not gone entirely unnoticed. Though she never commented out loud, Sylvia had given her an exasperated look upon discovering the ploy, and more importantly, her mistress'' perfectly tailored clothes had gotten a little too tight. Ciel had started eating less when she noticed the consequence, which meant that she reduced the drug''s consumption and slowed the rate of expansion. It was unfortunate, but she was going to need more time before everything was as she wanted.


    "And how is your sanity holding up," asked the god, "with all the changes you see in her?"


    Chloe smiled awkwardly. "It''s getting even harder to control myself."


    "And that would be why I didn''t," said Alfred, "not when I was your age, at least. Unfortunately, my choice happened to result in getting little to nothing done."


    "Do you have anything that might help suppress my urges?" asked the succubus.


    "I''ve tried everything, but unfortunately, this wrinkled old form is the only thing that does it. Even then, it''s only adjusted them. I find myself peeping almost excessively whenever I''m like this, but it''s still much better than the alternative." He sighed. "In the first place, our libidos are as much of a function of our personalities as they are of our biologies. I can certainly stop your body from pining for your mistress, but I couldn''t possibly stop you from doing it without changing who you are, just as how there can¡¯t exist a moment where Flitzegarde is gone from my mind."


    "The body part would help," said Chloe. "At least something to stop me from... drooling."


    A grin spread across Alfred''s face. "Oh, in that case, I do happen to have just the thing, but frankly I''d rather not give it to you until you''ve finally taken her."


    Chloe groaned. "That isn''t happening anytime soon. She doesn''t feel that way about me."


    "I don''t see why you would think that to be a problem," said Alfred. "People are fickle, Chloe. There are certainly a few rare cases, but unless you''ve made a bad first impression, which I certainly don''t think you have, then it''s really quite easy to work your way into someone''s heart. And even in the odd case that you do mess up, it really just ends up resolving itself once you¡¯ve put in a little more time and effort. In your case, I''d say that the last few steps are trivial."


    "Really?" The maid opened her eyes wide.


    "You''re already in her inner circle, and she hasn''t pushed you away even with your affections as blatant as they are. She clearly isn''t against the idea," said Alfred. "I would go as far as to say that you''ve already broken down most of the barriers between you. I do understand that the final hurdle is the highest, especially in cases like yours, but you simply need to show the sides of yourself that you know she wants to see.¡±


    ¡°Is it really that easy?¡±


    ¡°It is, especially with the person in question being the innocent little princess she is.¡± Alfred smirked. ¡°I can put together a book on the topic for next time. Oh, and speaking of obligations, did you remember to do what I asked?¡±


    ¡°Right, yeah. I did.¡± Chloe took a breath.


    ¡°Good, good. Very good.¡± He chuckled to himself. ¡°Then I¡¯d like you to move on to phase two. As for the details...¡± Alfred trailed off for a moment to think before issuing the rest of his orders.


    Like many of the other gods involved in the conflict, the celestial had a plan of his own, and Claire¡¯s most recent exchange with Vella provided the ability to act on it undetected. They both had access to the standard interface; Flitzegarde would never notice if he only manipulated his vectors in time with the mortal¡¯s.


    ___


    Lord Porcius grabbed his clipboard and quickly reviewed his notes as he waited for his prey to walk into his trap. It was at least his thirtieth time looking them over. He practically knew all the details by heart, but he scanned the front page regardless. They had evaluated time and time again that the wildcards were the only threats. No one else in the party was anything but a least concern.


    Their most powerful members were only in the level six-hundred range. And for their levels, their abilities were not particularly outstanding¡ªor at least that was what his agents had reported. They hadn¡¯t monitored the individuals directly, but their intel was likely accurate. They had gathered it with the latest model of magical spectrometer. The spectrometers themselves were not recent inventions. They were developed several decades ago, and their features remained largely unchanged. Conceptually, they were incredibly useful, capable of providing not only a precise measurement of the nature of one¡¯s mana, but also several estimations of an individual¡¯s ability scores. The more ancient variants suffered an insurmountable drawback in the form of their three-meter range. Countless geniuses had devoted their lives to the devices¡¯ improvement, but only in the previous year had they finally seen success. One of Tornatus¡¯ top minds had engineered a new version with a fifty-kilometer range just two months prior to the city¡¯s destruction. The crown was quick to adopt the design; purchasing the exclusive right to the schema just hours after its invention.


    And from that point onwards, their use had become standard. Every active warship in the nation had the feature attached. It was truly an incredible piece of technology, but perhaps because it was only recently made useful, it still came with a few key flaws. The most notable was that its readings were based almost entirely on mana, so when used on a group, it was unable to pin each target¡¯s measurements to an identity or face. But the gathered data was incredibly valuable in either case. And that was why he had borrowed Ephesus¡¯ best men to see it delivered¡ªa scheme that had worked spectacularly. It was a shame that the accompanying decoys, tasked with confrontation and closer observation, were slain in cold blood. They may have been unskilled, but they were still assets on the nation¡¯s payroll.


    He didn¡¯t dwell on it for long, however. Whether their levels were high or not, weaklings were easily and unceremoniously replaced, even if it was their sacrifice that brought the marquis his confidence. It was a sentiment that applied not only to the fallen decoys, but also the birds used for the data¡¯s transport. Not a single one of the thirty-six pigeons had made it home alive. The only successful communications were, unfortunately, delivered directly in person. They hadn¡¯t the faintest clue as to how the enemy was intercepting their letters, but what mattered was that the communications were eventually received in any case.


    The delay could have easily resulted in their defeat had the upcoming victory teetered on a knife¡¯s edge. But with the circumstances as they were, Porcius remained confident in certain victory. The enemy only had two wildcards; the nameless knight and the arcane mage were the only threats worth considering. Everyone knew that said knight was the king¡¯s older brother. Ephesus had made it clear that they were to capture him, dead or alive, so that they could present his head to their master. And though it had remained a mystery, since their previous attack, they had finally found themselves with a hint as to the mage¡¯s identity.


    She had done a good job of suppressing her output, almost to the point that they had barely noticed her. But the single spell she cast during the first decoy¡¯s battle had clearly given her away. The shape of her mana looked different, incredibly different, likely due to its unnatural suppression, but its demonic nature remained entirely unchanged. It was the humanoid demon, the maid that played the part of the Vel¡¯khanese queen¡¯s most faithful servant.


    In retrospect, it made perfect sense. She had disguised herself so she could secretly serve as the party¡¯s escort and protector, present to secure the queen¡¯s safety even in the worst scenario. Their own monarch was the only one powerful enough to join an expedition without a guard to serve him. For any other, it was far too dangerous, even¡ªespecially¡ªwith one¡¯s blood relations running the nation instead.


    That was why they had marked her as another primary target; the moose and the demon would each be tackled by eight of their champions and subject to immediate elimination, while the rest would be given one or two apiece, depending on the merit involved in capturing them alive. That was the gist of the plan, as was described by the sheet in front of his eyes. The rest of his notes listed the individuals¡¯ known abilities and possible ways of seeing them overcome. He didn¡¯t care for those. He had already reviewed Constantius¡¯ profile over a hundred times and come up with a way of taking him down.


    Everything was ready. All the pieces were in place. There was no need to worry.


    Thinking that to himself again, Porcius set the clipboard down, even knowing that he would be picking it up again within the next five minutes.


    It was a cycle of endless anxiety, the same feeling that always plagued him before a fight, even one that he knew he could win with ease. It didn¡¯t help that his field of view was limited. His only access to the outside world came in the form of the magical panels thrown up around the room. There was nothing upon them. The scenery pictured was as droll as the half-eaten brunch still sitting beside his seat.


    And yet, he saw the moment it happened.


    The water that lay directly underneath them, which was displayed through the panels that lay beneath his feet, started to crackle and swirl. The scene was exactly what the more knowledgeable locals had described. A group of adventurers was emerging from the dungeon¡¯s second exit.


    He waited with bated breath. From the timing, it was most likely his prey.


    But what he found instead was a party of birds.


    Dozens of flightless avians rushed out of the dungeon and into the surrounding area. Seemingly confused by their newfound underwater location, the monstrous chickens and kiwis flapped their wings in panic and pushed themselves back up to the surface.


    And then, they started swimming towards the shore, madness glimmering in their otherwise mindless eyes. Their goal was clear. It was the populace. The monsters intended to slaughter the local people.


    ¡°Report. It¡¯s a dungeon break, Sir,¡± said the reverse-centaur standing beside him. It was not a report from a blind buffoon, but a sneer from an insubordinate officer. The man that was standing beside him was one of the warriors who served their late master¡ªone of the warriors who had actively spoken out against Porcius¡¯ sudden promotion.


    ¡°I can see that.¡±


    ¡°Your orders, Sir?¡±


    ¡°Mobilize the units waiting alongside the shoreline. Defend the townsfolk and eliminate the hostiles.¡±


    Porcius had not only inherited his master¡¯s name. He had also inherited his duties. If he was to live up to his role, as the Minister of Foreign Affairs, he had no choice but to present his people as the sort by which one would want to be ruled.

 Chapter 353 - Hubris X

    Chapter 353 - Hubris X


    109833 - 3 - 1 - 5


    Dear Diary,


    We crossed another border last night. Why would anyone ever come here!? This country sucks, and its name is so weird that I can¡¯t even spell it! There aren¡¯t any roads anywhere and we keep getting attacked by bandits. I killed thirty of them just this morning. I have to keep washing my clothes because they keep getting totally soaked in blood. This is such a pain in the butt. I hate it here, but it''s going to take another week or two before we finally make it out. Master is still giving us all the same pointless tasks that he gave us in every other country.


    Lina never complains when she does them, so I''m not going to either. At least not out loud, but Master¡¯s a big mean dummy and I hate him.


    I miss mom and dad. I kind of want to go home.


    Lia


    ___


    Claire carefully scanned her surroundings as the dungeon¡¯s birds unwittingly did her bidding. They were being cleaned up as easily as expected. The Cadrian troops placed on the front lines were not the most powerful; she could tell from the cottontails¡¯ legs and the centaurs¡¯ hooves that most of them were still on their second ascensions. But armed with the tenacity that standard Cadrian builds inspired, they endured the monsters¡¯ assault and quickly put them down.


    There was a clear lack of thorae standing within the soldiers¡¯ ranks, but such were the demographics of the Pollux marsh. Most of the bee-ogres hailed from further north and while Tornatus had been a reason for the smart and ambitious to migrate, their much larger frames made it more difficult for them to engage in tinkering. They could have easily compensated with heavy dexterity investment, but even then, they fell behind their peers. The efficiencies of their ability scores¡ªthe invisible multipliers that accounted for their shapes and sizes¡ªwere tuned primarily for strength. That didn¡¯t stop the artifact-obsessed, of course, but that particular group had most of its members in Tornatus, which was to say that it may as well have ceased to exist.


    Similar random observations worked through Claire¡¯s mind as she watched the slaughter unfold. Completely invisible beneath Matthias¡¯ magical cloak, she waited until most of the birds were dead before raising Boris¡¯ front-right foot and placing it above his head.


    The copy that she had left within the dungeon mimicked the action and instructed the others to go ahead. The signal was one that they had decided well in advance; it was the only way for them to communicate without exposing any additional abilities.


    Surely enough, the portal came to life again as a second wave of birds was chased beyond the rift. It was far larger than the first, eight, maybe nine times its size. The victims involved had been captured over the course of the past day¡ªthe bottom floor alone had not been enough to sate their appetites, so they brought along some slightly weaker specimens from the areas directly above it and inflated the army to something in the thousand-bird range.


    There were so many of them that their enemies failed to take note when eight were lost beneath the waves. Swimming under the mantis¡¯ cloak, the marching chickens moved with the crowd, remaining perfectly obscured as they paddled towards the distant shore. It was one of Sylvia¡¯s spells; she had sung a quick song that had disguised the party¡¯s members as the mutated meals that walked the dungeon¡¯s plains.


    Though it had allowed them to escape the enemy formation, the transformation was unlikely to last until they passed through the city. Their foes already had countermeasures in place. The mothership hovering directly above the city had deployed a barrier that captured the lake and its immediate surroundings. Brute force was required to breach it, and the Cadrians were sure to come running the moment they so much as tried.


    Stalling them out was not an option. Though they certainly had a healthy need for fuel, the engines built into the ships¡¯ systems functioned by drawing mana from their immediate surroundings, whether that be air, water, or even the vacuum of space. Whatever the case, there was plenty of magic to spare. Every single drop that the devices consumed was replenished in the blink of an eye. In its unadulterated form, magical energy, like many other substances, naturally moved from concentrations of high to low. The world itself would work to replenish any gaps in the immediate supply.


    Worse yet, the output of a magical drive was steady, and it could easily operate until its parts were exhausted, the timespan of which was measured on the scale of months or years. They could still outlast their foes with Llystletein Authority invoked, but it would be a grand waste of time. It was only by launching an attack that they could emerge substantially victorious.


    Said attack had been a part of Claire¡¯s plan from the start, but it wasn¡¯t until she looked upon the enemy lines that it had taken a concrete form. That was why they rushed one of the more populated areas still within the containment zone. They looked around until they found an empty house and made themselves welcome inside.


    Claire undid the lock with a vector, strolled right through the hallway, and waltzed into the basement. Only once they were behind several layers of closed doors did she take off the mantis¡¯ runecloak¡ªwhich somehow still reeked of blood and guts after spending nearly half an hour in the water¡ªand turn her eyes on the chicken-shaped crowd.


    The spell was not immediately undone. Sylvia had to take a few minutes to sing a song and see the ability cancelled. That too was a part of the facade; any bard could conjure a minor illusion, and even a weak one could disguise one object as another with enough time and mana. Of course, a less decent singer¡¯s spells also came with a number of caveats, many of which had been fed to the crowd as another layer of deception.


    ¡°Whew.¡± The magical fox breathed a sigh of relief as she scrambled back onto her usual perch. ¡°Finally! That took ages.¡±


    ¡°Of all fucking things, why the hell did you turn me into a fucking hen!?¡± complained Jules. ¡°You could¡¯ve at least made me a fucking rooster!¡± The clam had been itching to scream the complaint since he first transformed, but unlike people, chickens were incapable of speech.


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t as bad as I thought it¡¯d be,¡± said Ace. ¡°Some of you were struggling, but my legs worked just the same as usual.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative. The chicken legs disrupted my sense of balance,¡± said Sophia.


    ¡°At least you weren¡¯t attacked,¡± griped Chloe.


    ¡°Mmmnnnn¡­ yeah, that was kinda weird,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I didn¡¯t think your weird succubus powers would keep working while you were in chicken mode.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think they can be disabled. Half the effect is passive.¡± The maid sighed¡ªan action that her master soon mimicked.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Never did I think that I would be made into a bird again,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Once was already more than enough.¡±


    ¡°At least you didn¡¯t have to fly this time,¡± said Matthias.


    ¡°I would rather you refrained from reminding me,¡± muttered the squid.


    ¡°Enough chatting,¡± said Claire. ¡°Cottontails have sharp ears. We need to be quick.¡±


    Arciel nodded. ¡°Let us discuss the next phase of your plan.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s simple. We attack their mothership and pretend to steal it. Then we run away.¡±


    There was a moment of silence.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ is that it?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°More or less,¡± said Claire. She paused for a moment. ¡°I¡¯m going to distract them. The rest of you should raid the ship once they start chasing me.¡±


    ¡°You sure that¡¯s gonna work?¡± said Ace. ¡°Actually, I guess it would. Only makes sense to hunt down a runaway princess.¡±


    ¡°Wait for about five minutes,¡± she said, as she transformed her blouse into a suit of armour. ¡°That should be long enou¡ª¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t going to work.¡± The door swung open and Panda walked inside. His dishevelled appearance was nothing new, and his eyebags were always hidden by his raccoon eyes, but somehow, he gave off the impression that he was utterly exhausted. ¡°You don¡¯t have time. They¡¯re heading for your location already, and they¡¯ve already got something in mind that basically negates your plan. You¡¯re gonna want to retreat. Now.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°They know where we are?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. They¡¯ve got you tracked, thanks to the spell that your demon just used.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°Same way they do everything,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯re using a fancy gadget. What else?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible. There aren¡¯t any artifa¡ª¡±


    Her mouth snapped shut as she turned towards the sky. There was something¡ªmultiple somethings¡ªinbound. There was no sound. They moved so quickly that she was unable to hear them. But their mana was loud and clear. Claire slowed them with vectors, but while some were flung away and even ejected from the battleship¡¯s barrier, most continued with only their speed reduced.


    The first to arrive struck the building head-on. He had started at his terminal velocity, but Claire¡¯s magic slowed him just enough that he arrived in time with the sound.


    He crashed through the roof and tore into the basement with all the force of a raging storm. Claire caught him head-on with her blade. She cut through his core and split his body in half. But the centaur was unbothered. His flesh reformed by the time his subordinates hit the ground.


    The building and its surroundings were completely blown away, but the northern brigade¡¯s members remained unharmed; she shifted them out of the way with her vectors last second, whilst also displacing the Cadrians from their intended destinations.


    It was not just the soldiers that descended from the heavens. Their gear followed soon after, delivered by a set of slower-falling adjutants clad in magic-resistant armour. The brittle, crystalline pieces were heavily enchanted, decorated from head to toe in runes powerful enough to nearly negate the lyrkress¡¯ vectors. The choice of material stated the message loud and clear. They only cared for magical threats. Because their martial prowess was far superior.


    Their eyes reacted to every little motion, their hands twitched every time the Vel¡¯khanese so much as dared to breathe. It was impossible to act without their notice. Impossible to act before they were suppressed. That much, even the mages understood.


    They could only stay silent and work their minds as the Cadrians prepared for battle. Each falling star was handed a set of garments and armours, weapons and trinkets, which they rapidly equipped.


    Claire nearly cursed under her breath. Her plan was on the verge of failure. Escape was still on the table. There were a few cottontails thrown into the mix, but she was confident that she could outrun them as long as she took to the sky. Most rabbits were earthbound, and centaurs were not the quickest to ascend. They were still fairly mobile in the air, but their vertical movements were far quicker when endowed with gravity¡¯s might. But there was a problem. Escaping meant leaving all the others behind.


    ¡°I applaud your bravery.¡±


    The first to land was also the first to speak. His body¡¯s overall shape was like that of the average cervitaur, specifically epitomizing the white-tailed subspecies. Standing at roughly two-meters tall, the young buck had a pair of massive, feathered wings dyed a slightly darker shade than his brown-furred body. There were only three patches of white to break up his pelt¡¯s colour, one that stretched from his tail to his humanoid torso, and another on each of his ridiculous-looking artifacts that adorned the side of his head. Like most deer, he suffered from a case of inherent ugliness. His ears¡¯ midsections were far too wide for anyone with good taste to judge them worthwhile. His horns were his only redeeming features. The massive antlers were twice his head¡¯s height and featured a full set of carefully sharpened protrusions.


    But of course, there was more than just that. They had been hidden by the metal skirt he draped over his frame, but his ascensions had blessed his hooves with sets of eagle-like wings. Each was roughly twenty centimetres long and provided him with enhanced mobility whilst up in the air. The tail that was his species¡¯ namesake no longer bore its usual appearance. The fluffy appendage was replaced by another set of feathers, crafted to better his balance no matter his twists or turns.


    Then there were his arms. They looked normal at a quick glance, but a more careful observation revealed that they were not touching his shoulders. That too was a known evolution, albeit a rare one. It was a feature that could be traced far back, to a particular deer who claimed that Xekkur¡¯s very ichor ran through his mortal veins. Whether that was to be believed was still up to interpretation, but in either case, the fact remained that his blood was special. Centaurs that bore it could grow in such a way that their upper limbs could be freely moved within a domain of their wingspan¡¯s size.


    He scratched the back of his head as he cast his gaze in Claire¡¯s direction. ¡°Constantius Augustus. Today¡¯s the day you die.¡±


    Claire blinked. She was able to suppress her reaction, but her allies were not quite as flexible. Confused looks, grunts, and murmurs ran through the crowd; it was far too late to stop the Cadrians from catching their complete bewilderment.


    ¡°Yeah, I guess I wouldn¡¯t have told you either if I was him,¡± said the deer. There was a confident look on his face as he spoke the words that dotted his script. ¡°But the long and short of it is that you idiots are dancing in the palm of his hand. He¡¯s just passing off the blame,¡± he said. ¡°This treacherous snake is the king¡¯s brother, and a traitor we owe an overdue execution.¡±


    ¡°I am not Constantius,¡± said Claire. There was no way to undo the mistakes that her allies had made, but the situation was yet recoverable. ¡°And snakes are not treacherous.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that isn¡¯t gonna fly,¡± sneered the buck. ¡°We¡¯ve fully analyzed your magic. It¡¯s too close in form for you to be anything but.¡± He scanned the room. ¡°Especially with your abilities matching perfectly with our reports.¡±


    The qiligon formulated a plan as the deer talked. An all-out brawl was the worst-case scenario. She needed to put some distance between her enemies and her allies if they were to stand a chance.


    ¡°But if you¡¯d like to pretend that you¡¯re some nameless knight, then that¡¯s all fine with me. We¡¯ve known for a thousand years that you¡¯re pretty much just honourless scum.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve only been alive for thirty, Sir,¡± quipped the reverse centaur standing directly behind him.


    ¡°You shut up.¡± The buck raised a spear and pointed it at the nameless knight. ¡°I¡¯m Porcius, Porcius Pollux, white-tailed sky terror.¡±


    ¡°Pollux?¡± Claire twisted her gaze into a sharpened glare and scrutinized the features. ¡°You don¡¯t look like one of his.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t got a lick of his blood in my veins,¡± admitted the deer, ¡°but I¡¯ve inherited his name, so I¡¯ve pretty much no choice but to inherit his will.¡±


    ¡°The only thing you¡¯ll inherit is his grave.¡± She closed the distance between them and drove her lizard towards his skull.


    She would give him the brawl he wanted.


    It didn¡¯t matter how her allies did.


    By taking up her enemy¡¯s name, he had sentenced himself to death.

 Chapter 354 - Hubris XI

    Chapter 354 - Hubris XI


    109833 - 3 - 2 - 7


    Dear Diary,


    I still can¡¯t really spell this weird country¡¯s name, but it isn¡¯t really as bad as I thought. Everyone seems a little cautious, and the kids don¡¯t really come out to play, but it¡¯s really nice and quiet, and no one bothered us when we walked around.


    They were even nicer when it was just me and Ms. Olga. They still seemed a little quiet, but they talked to us a lot more than when we were with Master. It¡¯s probably because they know he¡¯s a huge perv. I bet they can smell it.


    Lia.


    ___


    Matthias was the first to join the fray. He leapt into the melee with his cloak on his shoulders and his hood pulled over his head. Its invisibility function kicked in as he approached the closest enemy¡ªa peculiar-looking rabbit with a cocky grin. The man in question was a clear outlier. Unlike all the others, who wore heavy crystalline armour, he alone was dressed in the leather strappings that embodied an engineer¡¯s garb.


    That was not to say he was any less protected. There was a reactor on his back, a pair of goggles on his face, and two full sets of tools hanging from his waist. His wrists were further decorated with strange devices. Each of the array¡¯s members was wired into his portable energy supply. Matthias knew it from the illustrations he saw in Panda¡¯s documents. The rabbit was an artificer, specifically one of the rare variants specialized in personal combat. If his outfit didn¡¯t make that obvious, the protective field around him certainly did.


    The raccoon had described the artificers¡¯ most common technologies and highlighted their key functions, but the details were still beyond the rhiar¡¯s understanding. The only device whose ability he recalled was the retractable claw attached to the rabbit¡¯s elbow¡ªan electrical weapon capable of delivering a shock powerful enough to melt his carapace.


    But even so, Matthias crashed down upon him without a hint of fear. He was a warrior and engineers were backliners. That was all that mattered.


    Watching the rabbit¡¯s eyes, Matthias determined that his invisibility was most likely negated. The artificer was trying to follow him, but he was too fast for the man to keep up. Suddenly appearing right behind him, the mantis raised his scythes overhead and struck at the Cadrian¡¯s barrier.


    He almost got through it. The cottontail opened his eyes wide as the blades exposed his face to the air. Only halfway through his swing was the mantis¡¯ arm stopped¡ªthe shield had held just well enough to prevent the warrior from ripping out his throat. But while he was certainly surprised, the artificer was far from frozen in shock. He grabbed an item off of his waist and chucked it towards his assailant.


    Matthias cleaved at it instinctively, realizing his foolish impatience only as it exploded into a splash of water. But by then, it was already too late. The mantis was soaked and the artificer had completed the circuit.


    Electricity coursed through the rhiar¡¯s body, frying him from the inside and out. His lightning resistance skill did nothing. All of the mana in the surrounding air was converted into a raw, negative charge that nearly reaped his consciousness then and there, but clacking his mandibles together, he forced his mind to remain. Panda was right. The electrical attacks were too potent to handle. A single hit had caused his resistance to jump from level eighteen to twenty. He didn¡¯t want to imagine what a second or third would entail.


    It was fortunate then that he could compensate for the damage taken. He used the Cadrians¡¯ own trick against them¡ªbearing with an even more extreme burst of agony, he instantly recovered from his wounds and lashed out with his inbuilt blades. The first tore the shield open again, while a second wormed through the gap and caught the tiny rabbit¡¯s jugular. He twisted the blade and moved to remove the cottontail¡¯s head, but the engineer smacked his wrist with a wrench and broke the scythe before he could.


    Without any warrior classes, the Cadrian was unable to regenerate his flesh immediately, but he stuck a syringe into the side of his neck and stopped the bleeding. The stimulant came with the added effect of dilating his pupils and overstimulating his brain¡ªan artificially induced adrenaline rush.


    Matthias matched his pace¡ªhe fixed his broken weapon and quickly resumed his assault. He wasn¡¯t so foolish as to try the same strategy thrice, even if the prior repetition had netted a half-decent result.


    He spread his wings instead and gave them a heavy flap. A wave of sound exploded from his abdomen and swallowed the cottontail whole. The attack coursed right through his bones and targeted the base of his brain, shaking it just violently enough to stun him momentarily. It was a racial ability¡ªa skill that his species often used to capture its prey.


    Against such a high-level foe, it worked to little effect, freezing him in place for only a fifth of a second.


    But that was long enough.


    It bought Matthias all the time he needed to assume one of the ridiculous stances that his most powerful skill required. His arms were held overhead with his blades extended, while the rest of his body was straightened so he stood as high as he could.


    There was a clear reason for his recent, rapid growth. Like most thrice ascended, the mantis had possessed four classes before his queen had taken the throne. His primary was based in the martial arts. It allowed him to weaponize his body and make use of the deadly scythes that extended from his wrists. The other two had started as warrior and knight, with the former shoring up his effectiveness in melee and the latter empowering him at his queen¡¯s behest. The last class he acquired prior to the revolution was in the rogue¡ªassassin¡ªgrouping. Each was an independent set of skills that bettered his ability to see his job through. But then they were suddenly combined.


    They merged into a single class, Blade of the Bloodsoaked Queen, upon his master¡¯s victory and freed up the rest of his slots for a set of new selections. But while his acquisitions certainly enhanced their abilities, they still fell short of his unique primary class. It had come with its ars magna already unlocked, the concept of which was to serve as a weapon tasked with eliminating her foes.


    He was not quite like Boris, who was a weapon in the most literal sense, but he did need to shape himself like one in order to activate the skill. The precise shape he chose decided the result, and by becoming a scythe, he could cull with the reaper¡¯s might.


    His limbs were filled with power. Each of his ability scores increased tenfold while his body itself was also changed to match. His colour went from green to black, his scythes were dyed in a crimson shade, and his bulging muscles grew compact.


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    He closed the distance and nearly felled the engineer with a single swing. His arm went right through the barrier and even the accompanying device; the magical engine was split in half and taken out of commission. The cottontail managed to get away with just a shallow cut himself, but with no reactor to fuel his devices, he was good as dead. He needed to call down a replacement for the power source his enemy had broken.


    It was fortunate then that he was not alone.


    The only thoraen warrior on the battlefield stepped between them with two swords, two shields, and two spears at the ready. He used each of the weapons in turn, parrying Matthias¡¯ scythes without much trouble, in spite of the mantis¡¯ enhancements.


    The cottontail¡¯s pod dropped a moment later, making it two against one, even discounting the battleship¡¯s support.


    ___


    Jules clicked his tongue as he scanned the centaurian crowd. It was packed to the brim with cowards. Every single one of the enemies that fell from the sky was decked out in magic-resistant equipment. It wasn¡¯t just the charms, nor even the armour. Their weapons were forged in such a way that he couldn¡¯t quite easily destroy them.


    He lamented his ability score spread as he observed their lavish and otherwise ineffective protectors. The Cadrian soldiers had completely forgone their physical defences in favour of repelling their magic. They even wore enchanted helmets, as if protecting their minds from adverse effects. It was something that would never fly when facing off against an equal; any decent melee fighter could punish them for the absurd, stupid choice. But with how poorly his allies were doing, Jules suspected that they were unlikely to emerge successful.


    He didn''t even want to begin to imagine the expense that came with arming their assailants. Each necklace and brooch was made with a perfectly cut gem no smaller than a fist, and every soldier had at least two to his name. The price of even a single item was twice that of his hometown¡¯s annual budget. And needless to say, they were not just for decoration. He could feel it from the way that the mana around the soldiers was so easily repelled. They were powerful enough to completely gut his magic.


    That was why he refrained from casting or otherwise drawing attention immediately. He focused on staying alert, watching as the others jumped into the fray, just in case his allies happened to shatter their opponents'' crystalline defences. But the initial clash ended with no Cadrians scathed. His attention, likewise, suffered. It was pulled away, forcefully drawn to a distant archer.


    He spotted her as soon as she crested the tallest building¡ªa large supermarket with three full stories of goods¡ªand drew her weapon from her back. The bow was not magically resistant like every other piece of equipment but magically empowered instead. It was made of wood instead of crystal, specifically a bright hickory that largely went uncoloured. The only shade to violate its light brown was that of the line that ran right down its center. Glowing a deep, emerald green, the magic circuit revealed the might of the tree from which its length was carved.


    Warned by his instincts, he threw up a defensive spell just in time for the centaur to loose an arrow. Her hands were so quick that they vanished. There was no indication that she had even reached for her quiver. Her wobbling bowstring was the only evidence of her attack.


    That, and the explosion his shield produced.


    Blinded by the resulting smoke, he saw nothing but flashes of light as she pelted his barrier over and over. The arrows were fast. They moved so quickly that they nearly surmounted his defences.


    His incantation created a ten-meter boundary around him, its function to explode on contact with an inbound projectile. The defence was powerful enough to repel Krail¡¯s talisman-driven barrages. But the centaur¡¯s arrows were practically making it through. The scattered bits revealed that only the tips of their tails were broken. They likely would have found their marks had they been the slightest bit faster.


    Sweating but safe, the clam took a breath and worked on a counterattack. Linking nodes one, four, and twelve in his mind, he flooded her surroundings with his crimson explosions. He was fairly certain that the blasts had landed on target, but when the dust settled, it revealed no wounded archers anywhere to be seen.


    That was when she struck. An arrow wedged its way past his spell and through his back, leaving a bloody bloom in the middle of his shell. And then a second from his side, and a third from its opposite.


    His barrier was still up, but its effect was never triggered. Her arrows never passed through the threshold because the archer was running circles within it.


    Irritation pulsed through his mind.


    He couldn¡¯t stand it.


    The last thing he wanted was to be outdone by half a human strapped to half a horse.


    Clutching his arrow-laden stomach, he channelled his magic into the shield and turned it into a ten-meter bomb. It should have swallowed his opponent, but she dashed out of range right as it triggered and fired another projectile straight into his chest. Jules winced at the pain but raised his wand and weaved his next spell. He already had it ready; it should have come out in the blink of an eye. Had the poison not finally kicked in.


    His vision suddenly went hazy. Blood started leaking from his skin as his shell rotted from the inside out. He started coughing, practically uncontrollably as the rest of it worked its way through his system. His consciousness was waning. Rapidly. But clenching his open fist, he fixed the flow of his mana and assembled the spell again.


    It was a storm of red and blue. A thousand orbs chased after his enemy, half exploding, the other half shooting blades that inspired erosion.


    She avoided them all. Sprinting across the city, she escaped his range completely unscathed. None of Jules¡¯ attacks could touch her.


    But she couldn¡¯t evade the harpoon that suddenly found her brain.


    Technically, it was an arrow. And technically, it was a spell. But being one that conjured a physical object, it was able to forgo her magical defences and apply its damage in full.


    It was almost, almost enough to kill her, but she grabbed the crow-footed ars magna, tore it out of her face, and bid her body to recover. Jules gave her no time to return to her feet. Conjuring two embodying abilities of his own, he leveraged the concept bestowed by his primary synergist class to fuse them both together. The first was meant to illustrate the concept of explosion. It was a tiny projectile that caused everything inside of it to undergo a nuclear fission chain. The second, water-based spell furthered the idea of gradual diminution and afflicted anything he touched with a powerful withering effect.


    By taking their strengths and fusing them, he created a bomb that applied the same effect to anything caught within its explosive radius.


    Everything in his field of view was dyed in a mix of reds and blues. His shell rattled and shook, threatening to crumple beneath the force of the shockwave. His magical senses were overloaded by the sheer amount of magic produced.


    Grinning, he looked towards the ally that had provided the opportunity. He was almost ready to admit that the old elf was more than just talk, but all he found was the man in question with a blade in his stomach and blood streaming from his face. His tongue lay on the ground, severed and completely destroyed.


    He couldn''t cast; he was thoroughly silenced until his flesh returned.


    Jules immediately moved to aid the elf, only for another arrow to find him. Emerging from his nuclear explosion, damaged but still alive, the archer closed the distance again and shot a wave of blades that pierced him right through. He was unable to react. He might have been able to follow up and deliver another attack had he kept his eyes on his foe, but looking towards his ally had sealed his fate in stone.


    The poison kicked in again and sent his mind into a hazy, downward spiral. His enemy lost her shape. She went from a horse glued to a person to an amorphous blob, unrecognizable as the buildings and streets all around.


    He still tried to weave a spell, but a hoof to the back of his shell cut him short. Stumbling forward, he ducked under the arrow that followed and spun around with his wand alight.


    There was fight in him yet.


    He had sworn to himself, on the day he first took up his magical tomes, that he would never lose to anything as primitive as a bow. And that only went double if the worthless weapon was used with the intention of seeing his people oppressed.

 Chapter 355 - Hubris XII

    Chapter 355 - Hubris XII


    109833 - 3 - 2 - 8


    Dear Diary,


    Okay. Nevermind. I hate this place. Not having roads sucks. Why did we even come here?


    Lia.


    ___


    The Vel¡¯khanese queen slunk into the shadows as soon as the battle began. A quick look around the crowd confirmed that the fighters were personally assigned; each Cadrian was watching a specific target, and Arciel had no intention of dealing with either of the brutes whose eyes were fixed on her person.


    She began by making a show of running away. She hopped from shadow to shadow, retreating from the battlefield as swiftly as she could. Her foes had evidently failed to anticipate the decisive escape, moving only as the commander issued an explicit order. But by then, it was too late. By running off in the direction of her retreat, they had guaranteed that they would never catch her.


    Because she had never left the field.


    It was a shadow that had jumped from patch to patch, an easy trick that even a fledgling mage could manage.


    The real Ciel was tactically hidden beneath Lana¡¯s feet. The enemy¡¯s strategy was to face each fighter with a challenge they were unlikely to overcome, which in Lana¡¯s case was a weakness to area denial.


    Surely enough, they had the fault perfectly pegged. A tornado suddenly formed around them, its slicing winds rapidly closing on the wolf¡¯s form. Avoiding the damage was impossible, especially with the caster¡¯s location yet unknown. Without many other choices, she raised her axe like a shield and broke right through the storm.


    She scanned her surroundings as she emerged from the wind tunnel, only to find herself surrounded by a dozen blades of wind. She parried some and dodged others, but with her domain not yet deployed, she was unable to escape unscathed. One of the magical attacks dug into her stomach, while another found her leg. Both wounds were still shallow, but her pain tolerance was nothing like the Cadrians¡¯. She couldn¡¯t command her body to recover on the spot; her passive regeneration would take almost a minute to complete the necessary repairs.


    But she still hadn¡¯t located the caster.


    It was a problem that only persisted as more magic was thrown her way. Perhaps noting their effectiveness, the Cadrian mage repeated the two spells in sequence, with each scoring a few hits and whittling the pirate down. The cycle continued until she suddenly threw her weapon at her shadow¡¯s behest. The massive axe shot straight through a building and made for the mage¡¯s chest. The goat in question erected a wall of wind, but it wasn¡¯t enough to negate the projectile.


    Lana¡¯s axe was too heavy. Weighing in at nearly half a ton, the metal mass tore through the barrier and lopped his left arm straight off his body. The mage cried in pain, but he quickly regained his footing, and, raising his wand overhead, called two elements to abide his will. First was the earth that covered the city¡¯s streets. The dirt rose into the space behind him, forming a thousand sharpened spears. The wind gathered around each bullet, wrapping it in a spinning barrel that sucked in the surrounding air.


    He made careful note of the distance between them as he built his wall. But it was precisely that excessive preparation which left him wide open. There was a brief moment, right before he cast, where the world suddenly lost its shadow. He recognized the phenomenon. It was exactly as it had been described in the mission¡¯s handbook. He looked around for the signature projectile, but he was unable to find it. Because it had already entered his body.


    Having entered the axe¡¯s shadow, Arciel had effectively teleported behind him and unleashed the spell from point blank. The mage¡¯s amulet provided some resistance. He still had a few splotches of vision, but they were hardly effective. The whole world was black and white and his depth perception was moot.


    It was clearly the sort of situation that called for one to panic, but the mage remained nonchalant. He was a veteran of a few hundred years, and having lived in the southernmost lands, he had seen and felt the Kryddarians do much worse. He didn¡¯t even acknowledge her, in fact. Knowing that she would struggle to break his defences, he kept his focus fixed on the wolf.


    All one thousand projectiles flew at her in an instant. She narrowly activated her domain in time, thanks to Arciel¡¯s interference, but not even the accompanying chronodilation allowed for a perfect evasion. There were simply too many, and their trajectories were already set; there was nothing that the wolf could do with her field of focus fixed to the space in which it was cast.


    Rocks pierced her thighs, her calves, her arms, and even her ribs, but Lana endured the barrage through to its end. Dashing out of her zone of control, she closed the distance, grabbed her axe, and swung at his neck.


    Only for a rock to impale her from behind before her strike could find its mark.


    It was one of the most basic spells. All he did was change the shape of the earth and run it through her stomach. And yet, she was caught, snagged right into his trap.


    The Cadrian was on the verge of declaring his victory when he was impaled in turn. Slowly craning his neck around, he found Arciel sitting atop a bloody throne and a freshly crafted praying mantis standing right behind him. It was physical damage¡ªdamage that ignored his magical defences¡ªbut again, the level eight-sixty mage was not dissuaded. Walking through the fake rhiar¡¯s blade, and allowing it to grind further into his stomach, he pointed his wand at the queen¡¯s chest and blasted her with a massive tornado.


    He was certainly annoyed that her opponents had failed to keep her pinned, but it wasn¡¯t as if he had really minded. She had presented herself on a silver platter; he was 300 levels up and far more technically proficient. In a bout of pure magic, she could never compare.


    ___


    Claire¡¯s first attack was aimed between Porcius¡¯ eyes. Moving at her absolute maximum speed, she turned Boris into a lance and delivered a thrust right as his transformation completed. It was an attack to which none of the brigade¡¯s members would have been able to react, but the deer twisted his neck and dodged right out of the way. Porcius began moving his spear to counter the blow, but Claire gave him no such opportunity. She turned her lizard into an axe and drove him straight towards his face.


    The attack clearly defied all laws of physics. It made no sense for the weapon to change directions whilst also maintaining its speed. It took him a moment too long to process it. Left without much other choice, he jumped, leaping just high enough off the ground for her weapon to miss his brain.


    His neck was claimed instead. The axe broke through his crystalline armour and took his head clean off. His necklace went flying in the exchange, but Claire failed to seize the advantage. The deer¡¯s body continued to act even without its head. It extended both its legs to kick her in the gut and swung its spear towards her chest. Even watching his eyes, she barely summoned another Boris in time to narrowly eke out a parry.


    Acknowledging it irked her to no end, but his agility was far superior. Even though she had just recently quintupled the value.


    Tightening her grip on her lizards, the lyrkress set her sights on his decapitated head. She wanted to finish him off while he was still vulnerable, but no such opportunity was given. They had only traded three blows; less than half a second had elapsed in total, but she was already surrounded. His men formed a circle of spears around her, each poking and prodding as their ranged companions loosed their spells and arrows. Dealing with the projectiles was easy. She steered them off course with her vectors and sent them into their allies¡¯ backs. Unlike the casters and archers themselves, their attacks were lacking in magic resistance.


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    But even if the mages were negligible, the spear wall remained a problem. Two hands were not enough to ward off the incoming attacks, regardless of how many eyes she opened. She compensated by summoning more Borises and steering them with her spells, but it was a narrow road she walked. She could only repel the attacks by consciously negating any momentum transferred to her floating lizard-shields. It was a conscious effort, and there were nearly too many of them to track.


    Making matters even worse were the reinforcements. What started as five quickly became twelve as a certain useless maid threw up her arms in surrender.


    The circumstances were hardly ideal. It was only thanks to their caution that she warded them off. Each move was meticulous, designed to wear her down so they could finish her risk-free. It was more than just a three-sixty-degree encirclement. There were two layers of fighters suspended in the air, forming a tight, bladed dome that prevented a vertical escape.


    She was in check. Even one careless mistake, one brief lapse of attention, would effectively spell the end. But Claire was unfazed. If anything, she was invigorated. The seemingly unwinnable scenario almost reminded her of the time she had spent in Llystletein, surrounded on all sides by borroks ready to spill her blood.


    Her chest stirred. Her heart soared. But it was not joy that drove the smile hidden beneath her helm.


    She was finally hunting Cadrians, not pathetic shams like her previous opponents, but true warriors who worked towards their goals with their pride left far behind. If she could defeat them and their superiors, then her father would soon be within her reach.


    And she was confident that if the status quo were to persist, she would surely emerge on top. Courtesy of her freezing aura.


    Centaurs and cottontails were both naturally cold-resistant races. Both species could operate in the depths of winter, but her body¡¯s temperature had dropped beyond the realm of reason. The temperature within the encirclement had fallen a hundred degrees. The soldiers¡¯ fingers cycled between their usual fleshy colours and a deep, frostbitten black. But actively mending themselves each time, they continued their previous routine.


    The damage to their hands was largely the fault of their freezing-cold weapons. The crystalline spears may have been magic-resistant, but the chilling effect was not strictly magically derived. The few magical processes were internal to her body; her surroundings were only affected by the second law.


    And that therein lay her road to victory. Their already brittle spears were even frailer with the temperature fallen.


    Thirty seconds was all it took for the first to shatter. It belonged to one of the more experienced warriors, particularly one more eager and aggressive than any of the others. She recognized the old coot. He was the Opimius family¡¯s head and one of Pollux¡¯s closest aides. It was no wonder that his eyes shone with murderous fervour.


    He continued to attack even with his weapon half-broken, but it was a waste of effort. The ruined rod was too short to reach her, and he couldn¡¯t step closer without breaking formation.


    But it didn¡¯t matter.


    He didn¡¯t need to approach because she immediately closed the distance. Her body grew midcharge, swelling to its full size as she caught him between her jaws. She hadn¡¯t wanted to reveal the function, but she wasn¡¯t confident in her ability to overpower him without the extra weight.


    Surely enough, he stopped her even in her true form, sliding only a meter and a half. But that was good enough. She turned humanoid again and slid between his legs, gutting him with her lizard along the way. He tried stomping her to death while she was beneath him, but he lacked Porcius¡¯ speed; she was able to guide his limbs out of her way and retaliate with more strikes of the lizard. It was a shame that she was unable to finish him, but in the grand scheme of things, it was hardly a relevant concern. She had escaped their formation unscathed.


    Alas, there was no time for celebration.


    The mages bombarded her immediately. Most of them still used the dinky projectiles whose course she easily altered, but one had smartened up and opted for a wide-area attack. It was unfortunate then that the element he used was lightning.


    Claire absorbed the blast and made for the backline without missing a beat. She knew from the start that it was a faulty plan. Too many of the warriors had her outsped, and they cared little for the wounds that the lightning inflicted. But damage was damage. The more their allies dealt, the less she would need to finish them.


    She negated her momentum and spun around within the static field, catching the two fastest assailants with four lizards apiece. But even pinning them down with her blades, she was unable to perform their executions. Their heads were too elusive; her body blows only landed because her opponents cared little for their flesh.


    There wasn¡¯t enough time for a second set of attacks. The rest of the warriors caught up and encircled her again without delay.


    Their second formation was looser than their first. The gaps between them were larger, but so too was there enough distance to react were she to attempt another escape.


    It was clearly premeditated.


    They had suspected that the dome would be invalid and prepared a contingency well in advance.


    Still, she wasn¡¯t worried, not even when Porcius flew down from above. She cared neither for the wide grin plastered across his face nor the shieldlance that sat atop his shoulder. He was nothing to her. Not even a post on the way to her goal.


    ¡°You¡¯re probably curious about the formation,¡± he said.


    She charged him instead of answering¡ªthere was no use in listening to a dead man¡¯s words¡ªbut he parried her attack with ease. He twisted and turned his shield each time she manipulated her blades, catching every blow she delivered well before it landed. She tried the transformation trick again and turned a missed stab into a scythe attack.


    But he had swapped from a spear to a lance specifically to counter her gimmick.


    ¡°This is the one we decided we¡¯d take if you turned out to be weak.¡± He rammed the back of his shield into her weapon¡¯s shaft and locked the blade in place.


    She couldn¡¯t pull it back. The weapon was stuck exactly where she held it. But while Claire¡¯s hands were certainly tied, Boris¡¯ were not. His shaft shrank; he pulled his head towards his butt whilst aiming for the back of the Cadrian¡¯s skull. He almost, almost caught the warrior off guard, but sensing the danger, the cervitaur craned his neck and parried it with his horns.


    ¡°Nice try,¡± he said. ¡°But it isn¡¯t gonna work.¡±


    Still not replying, Claire pressed down on his weapon whilst launching another attack. The remaining seven Borises each targeted him from a different direction while Porcius breathed a sigh.


    ¡°Oh, god damn it.¡± He raised his supposedly restrained shieldlance with Claire still attached and lazily parried her attacks. ¡°Stop playing around and take this seriously. Use the goddess¡¯ living blade and show me what the man who killed the boss is worth.¡±


    He was still expecting more from her, but with his magic-resistant armour in place and her own circuits still damaged, there was little more that she could deliver.


    She had to rely on the elf god¡¯s tricks.


    Claire freed up her hand for the next exchange and looked for a chance to grab his wrist. She needed to make contact, both to divert his weapon and to steal his resources. One good grapple was still a win condition, even without the steroid she had used to defeat his master.


    She focused on the tip of his blade. She focused on the movements of his eyes, muscles, and bones. She knew exactly what to do.


    It only came down to execution.


    She moved her hand as soon as he locked in his trajectory, but the only result was a slash raked across her shoulder. He evaded her hand with his superior speed and delivered a heavy blow that blew her guard away.


    It went through her armour and cleaved her flesh, stopping only because her bones refused to be cut. Had they still been made of their original materials, she surely would have been rent in two. And the assault had only just begun.


    Perhaps having expected her to survive, he followed with a straight kick to the gut that sent her flying across the ring, straight into the waiting arms of an extended spear. Another three met her chest as the first passed through her stomach. All before her mind could catch and even consider the possibility of shifting her body with her vectors.


    ¡°I told you to stop relying on gimmicks,¡± he said, with a grumble.


    Claire gritted her teeth as she peeled her guts off the extended blades and returned to center stage.


    She knew why she was losing. She had been able to defeat the celestials and gods because their ability scores were equal. And if the same rules applied to Porcius, she was confident she could win. But as it stood, he was mathematically superior. Strength, speed, dexterity. His numbers were higher and his technique more refined.


    The icing on the cake? He was still yelling for her to show him something beyond a silly trick.


    Even though silly tricks were all the caldriess had.

 Chapter 356 - Hubris XIII

    Chapter 356 - Hubris XIII


    Sylvia squeezed her tail to her chest as she watched the battle unfold. It wasn¡¯t going well. None of the battles were swinging in their favour. It wouldn¡¯t be long before they were completely overrun. A few seconds for the weaker fighters, and a minute or so for the more proficient.


    She wanted to intervene. She needed to. If she didn¡¯t act, then their allies would surely be captured. But she knew such a choice would surely result in a fight. That much was clear from the look on the longmoose¡¯s face. She would never hear the end of it if she stepped in before her pet was sated. As was with the case of the flaming bird.


    Claire¡¯s pettiness knew no bounds. She would surely ignore the fox for days if she didn¡¯t wait for her willpower and consciousness to wane. And that was the last thing she wanted. Sylvia liked to be petted and hugged. And while she hadn¡¯t exactly enjoyed having her cheeks tugged at first, even that had grown on her in time. To lose all her privileges, to lose her standing as one of the few still warmly regarded, was a fate she couldn¡¯t accept.


    That was why she hesitated, why she did nothing but watch as bad turned to worse.


    She watched as Chloe was captured, she watched as Krail was subdued, and she watched as Sophia was butchered.


    Her opponent, a moose with a coat of brown fur, beat her without regard for her continued existence. He could have easily captured her and taken her in, as all his allies had done when their enemies were defeated. But he mercilessly swung his blade, carving at her flesh even after her heart had ceased its function.


    There was no light in her eyes. She had stopped coughing blood ages ago. Sylvia cared little for the kelpfin agent, but a discomforting tingle crept up her spine as she stared at her mangled figure.


    A flash in the pan was all it would take for the same fate to befall the others. They were all so weak and fragile. Unlike the enemies, they could easily be worn down and reduced to dust.


    It was a fate that could have awaited any one of the remaining fighters.


    Not even Claire was exempt. And in reality, it looked as if she was skirting the line. Her body was covered in wounds. Her heart was only beating because she pressed on it with her vectors. Her bones were only whole because her enemies lacked the divinity to break them.


    Sylvia couldn¡¯t help but imagine her end¡ªthe scene sure to follow her continued hesitation.


    She clasped her hands over her ears, closed her eyes, and shook her head. But it refused to go away. If anything, the sensory deprivation only worsened the result. The scene grew more vivid as it was superimposed upon the world around her. The one reality she wanted, needed, to deny.


    That was when the dam finally broke.


    Retrieving a stick from within her tail¡ªan ancient wand carved from the heart of the Divine Redleaf Tree¡ªthe fox stood up on all fours and began to weave her spell.


    Up, down, left, right, up, down, left, right. Like a conductor¡¯s baton, it swung with a steady rhythm, perfectly aligned with the beat echoing through her mind. She brought it into reality as the fourth bar struck. Her voice echoed through the city, revealing a sombre tone that none could avoid. It was not the same effect that she typically employed. Rather than infusing the notes straight into the targets¡¯ minds, she modified her voice so it covered the area. It was a countermeasure against their magic resistance, even though she could have easily broken through.


    There were many paths from which the introduction could branch. A darker, heavier song would allow her to invoke her ultimate, but the Llystletein abomination refrained. Claire would be even angrier if Sylvia exterminated them outright; their deaths would only deny her redemption.


    That was also why she didn¡¯t simply lull their foes to sleep. Such a spell could only have ended in the Cadrians¡¯ execution, and thus her pet moose¡¯s ire.


    She kept the song flat and issued a global mandate. The world-bending command branded the enemies with powerful geises and banished them from the merchants¡¯ country. Knowing how the Cadrians worked, and how willing they would have been to sever their limbs, she placed the runes within their skulls, quite literally carving them into their minds. Specifically, she targeted their brainstems, so that the problem in question could not be solved with a simple lobotomy.


    That was all it took for the battle to reach its end.


    The Cadrians were carried away, kidnapped by their own feet entirely against their will. When they tried to resist, the rune only ignored them, forcing them to obey its overwriting commands. But while powerful, the effect was also limited. It only forced them to leave. The methods they chose and the things they did along the way were still entirely at their discretion. Their prisoners were not released; the dead, wounded, and disabled were dragged up into their ships and taken away.


    Claire spread her wings and prepared to give chase, but Sylvia ran up to her and grabbed her by the leg. She shook her head, over and over.


    The battle was already lost.


    There was no point in continuing any longer.


    Though there was a frown on her lips, Claire soon retracted her flying parts and watched the ships sail off. Half of the allies had been taken prisoner, either that or killed outright. It was impossible for the lyrkress to say for certain. She had been too focused on her own fight to spare any attention for the others¡¯ conditions.


    Her injuries ran deep. The fox had healed most of her wounds, but she coughed bloody blobs regardless. It was the buildup that had filled her nigh vestigial lungs, caused by the wounds the soldiers had twisted between her bones.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± She scratched the fox behind the ears and under the chin. ¡°I''m better now.¡±


    The reaction elicited a blink, three to be more specific.


    ¡°What?¡± asked the lyrkress.


    ¡°I thought you would be mad,¡± said the furball. ¡°Y¡¯know, since I broke up the fight and stuff.¡±


    ¡°Do you want me to be mad?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    ¡°Then why are you complaining?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m worried, you silly goose!¡± huffed the fox. ¡°It kinda feels like you might just be holding it in.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± She pinched the half-elf¡¯s cheeks. ¡°Stop worrying.¡±


    She lifted the fuzzy critter into her arms, scanned the battlefield, and finally acknowledged the only two left uncaptured. Lana was seated in front of a building wrapping scraps of cloth around her waist, while Krail stood in front of his severed tongue and poked it with his staff. They spoke a few words of thanks when Sylvia healed them, but that was it. Not another word passed between them even after they gathered.


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    Dismissing all but one Boris, Claire grabbed a scrap of cloth off the ground and wiped the blood that decorated his edge. A quick inspection confirmed that Starrgort was still around as well. He had been sitting off to the side the whole time, sulking at his lack of use. But that was the extent of their members. No one else had been left behind.


    The lyrkress squeezed her fox into her chest before breathing a sigh and taking a seat. She needed a moment to process the sheer extent of the failure. Challenging the Cadrians had been a foolish gamble, an act of utter stupidity.


    She knew that most of them weren¡¯t ready. Still, she had thought that she could stand a chance.


    But her ego had poisoned her mind, and fighting Vella¡¯s prisoners had only made it worse. Chances were, she would have opted for a more cautious approach had the goddess¡¯ quests not bolstered her power.


    She knew whose fault it was. For once in her life, Vella had proven intelligent enough to corner her, to put her in a situation where she had no choice but to do as she said. Claire was confident that the war goddess¡¯ weapon would have defeated the deer. But the moment she relied on the gift was the moment she doomed herself to a cycle of dependence. It wouldn¡¯t have been her own strength that overcame the crisis. But she couldn¡¯t figure out how else she was meant to conquer it. Magic had been the answer in the past. For as long as she remembered, her vectors had always been able to bail her out of an unfavourable scenario. But magic was not an option. That much, they had guaranteed before the battle began. It was checkmate. Lest she obeyed the spider¡¯s orders.


    That was why she didn¡¯t¡ªcouldn¡¯t complain.


    Squeezing her fox again, Claire suppressed her freezing aura and put her mind to work. She knew her performance was lacklustre and that the fault was entirely her own.


    The pseudo-Pollux was right.


    She had relied too heavily on her silly tricks.


    But it wasn¡¯t like she could have simply ordered her vectors to tear him apart even if she caught him without his gear. That much had been proven by his descent. His spirit was on the higher side, as was the case with most seasoned elites. Magic was too powerful and versatile to be disregarded, and investing spirit often went a long way in the preservation of one¡¯s overall longevity.


    She needed to get stronger, but there wasn¡¯t enough time to grind and level. There weren¡¯t any dungeons in the area dangerous enough to provide a meteoric ascent, and there was no telling what the enemy would do when faced with the frustration of a mandatory retreat; the quicker they rescued their allies, the better their chances of survival. Spending her points was the only realistic way for her to achieve such a goal, but it would only hamper her long-term growth.


    Her equipment was just as unlikely to improve. She had long memorized the parameters of the best armour on the Vel¡¯khanese market, and it was off that which her magical cloak¡¯s transformations were based. She would have to invade her father¡¯s armoury if she wanted anything significantly better, but he had locked her out of it many long years ago. Infiltrating it wasn¡¯t impossible with her portals back online, but she hadn¡¯t the slightest clue as to where it was and looking was sure to rouse suspicion.


    Whatever the case, at the end of the day, both methods were irrelevant. Padding her numbers was hardly a long-term solution. As long as she worked within the system, there would always be someone whose values were higher. She needed to find another way around the problem. But the clock was working against her. If she failed to arrive at an epiphany by the time the bell tolled, she would be left with little choice but to rely on the divine.


    She wanted nothing to do with Vella¡¯s scheme, but she couldn¡¯t leave her allies to rot in enemy hands. Not after what the late Lord Pollux had done.


    She needed to move.


    She needed to move before another Pollux did the unthinkable.


    ¡°Sylvia.¡± Her voice trembled as she buried her face in the fox¡¯s fur. She bit her lips as she mulled over her words.


    Voicing them was paramount to giving up, to taking the easy route out of the otherwise thorny scenario. But at the same time, she knew it was the right decision. Ciel was worth more than her pride. And her maid mattered as well, even if to a much lesser extent.


    ¡°Can you do me a favour?¡±


    ¡°Mhm?¡± The fox looked up, half expecting a request for cuddles.


    Claire took a deep breath.


    ¡°Can you kill the deer and his men?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Sylvia took a moment to study her face. ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡±


    ¡°Mmk.¡± She raised her wand and weaved her magic, only for Claire to pinch her cheeks and stop the spell mid-cast.


    ¡°Not like that, idiot. You¡¯re going to destroy the ship and kill everyone on board.¡±


    ¡°I-I was going to use something that only hit our enemies!¡± squeaked the furball.


    ¡°The ship will still go down if there isn¡¯t anyone there to steer it,¡± said Claire, with a squeeze. ¡°We¡¯ll probably need to sneak on board.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t we just teleport everyone out and then destroy the ships?¡± whispered the fox.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want the traitor to know we can teleport,¡± said Claire, just as quietly. ¡°We¡¯re better off infiltrating.¡± She briefly glanced at Lana and Krail before raising her voice. ¡°After these two idiots get some rest.¡±


    ¡°Oh, would you look at that, Lana. She finally addressed us. And here I was thinking that she was going to be mumbling and brooding all night,¡± muttered the elf.


    ¡°Me too,¡± agreed the wolf.


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t even be the first time. Do you know how terrible it is to be put on night watch with her? She doesn¡¯t say a damn word!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not much better.¡±


    ¡°You at least reply to things when you¡¯re addressed. She¡¯s as cold as a goddamn stone.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°On second thought, we can do without any rest.¡±


    ¡°And now she¡¯s driving us like slaves! Can you believe the nerve of this woman!?¡± he cried. ¡°You know, this reminds me of the ti¡ª¡±


    A foot found his face and stopped him midsentence. ¡°Enough,¡± said Claire. ¡°You talk too much. Any more of that, and I¡¯m leaving you behind.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure he was just trying to lighten the mood,¡± said Sylvia, with an awkward laugh.


    ¡°In all seriousness, leaving him behind is probably for the better. He doesn¡¯t really stand much of a chance against our countrymen, the way he is now,¡± said Panda. He walked out of a ruined building with a bounce to his step. ¡°Though I¡¯ve gotta say, you did a lot better than I thought. I was expecting Porcius to kill you.¡±


    ¡°You watched and did nothing.¡± Claire narrowed her eyes.


    ¡°What, can you really blame me?¡± asked the raccoon. ¡°You ignored all my warnings. I told you to run. And what did you do? Absolutely fucking nothing. You¡¯re literally throwing away all my investment, goddamn.¡±


    The lyrkress remained silent.


    ¡°Oh, and speaking of warnings, I¡¯ve got another,¡± he said. ¡°Are you actually going to listen this time, or should I save my breath?¡±


    Claire closed her eyes. Pulling the fox even closer to her chest¡ª


    ¡°Ow!¡±


    ¡ªand accidentally stabbing her with the icy blade growing out of it, Claire turned her gaze to their retreating foes and sorted through her thoughts again. It wasn¡¯t like they didn¡¯t have weaknesses. The warriors they fought had certainly been Pollux¡¯s champions, but on a national scale, they were third-rate. She was confident that she could kill at least half of them if she caught them unprepared.


    But it wasn¡¯t about her; it didn¡¯t matter who she could and couldn¡¯t kill.


    No one could stand up to Sylvia, but that wasn¡¯t to say that they could march right in. They still needed a plan to ensure that the hostages would not be executed the moment they boarded the ship. And if Panda¡¯s prior claim held true, they were likely to be detected no matter the method of approach.


    ¡°Well?¡± asked the raccoon. His arms were crossed, and he tapped his foot against the ground as he spoke.


    ¡±I¡¯m listening.¡±


    ¡°I sure fucking hope so,¡± he grumbled, before raising his voice. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ll keep it brief. You have,¡± he looked at the space in front of them and moved his hands as if flipping through a set of non-existent documents, ¡°about a day and a half to get your buddies off the mothership. Tomorrow at midnight is when Ephesus stabs that Porcius kid in the back and unveils his latest weapon. He¡¯s kept most of the details under wraps, but by the sounds of it, it¡¯s got enough juice to kill everyone on board.¡±

 Chapter 357 - The Stifled Sword

    Chapter 357 - The Stifled Sword


    Ace raised a hand to his throbbing head as his consciousness slowly returned. He was rather surprised to find his braincase entirely intact. His torn scales had healed, and his once-dented face had already returned to form. None of the gashes in his clothes revealed visible wounds, his goddess¡¯ restrictions had returned, and a glance at his HP confirmed it fully restored. An hour and a half had to have passed at least.


    He didn¡¯t know where he was exactly. His surroundings were so brightly lit that it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. When they finally did, he found himself in an environment too bizarre for him to think it a Cadrian gaol. Jailtime was a foregone conclusion for any captured soldier, but the surrounding aesthetic threw him for a loop and a half. For one, it wasn¡¯t nearly dingy enough to serve as a prison. The room shone with a brilliant white lustre, and it was filled with all sorts of expensive amenities. The central space was lined with shelves of books, mainly novels, poems, and academic articles for the prisoners to pass the time. They were accompanied by luxurious, expensive sofas and even enchanted reading glasses for those who might have required them.


    Sitting on one end of the space was a long hall filled with bedrooms and restrooms, separated by both size and sex. The other was decorated with a fully stocked kitchen. It came with several sets of magical burners so several dishes could be made in tandem, as well as a fully stocked cast of multinational cookware.


    Most egregious of all was the complete and utter lack of bindings. Exactly none of the prisoners were cuffed or collared, even though they had quite literally just come out of a bloody encounter. Not even their weapons had been taken away. The lizardman¡¯s blades sat on a rack by the exit. The only thing that stopped him from grabbing them was the glass barrier within which the shelf was contained. It was the flimsiest little thing he had ever seen, thin enough to be broken by a half-hearted strike.


    Everyone else had already settled right in. Arciel was sitting on one of the fluffy chairs and sipping a cup of tea, while Chloe was humming to herself as she prepared a series of fruits. Matthias was staring at a magical display that showed the world outside and Jules was pouring over an ancient scroll whilst muttering something about the theory of magic.


    He almost couldn¡¯t believe that they were imprisoned. The only notable indication was the door that led outside. It was heavily reinforced. The knob was inaccessible, but there was a thin slit through which one could see the guards stationed just beyond.


    ¡°Must be nice to be royalty,¡± he muttered. ¡°Even the goddamn slammers are basically luxury resorts.¡±


    ¡°I believe this to be the norm, rather than the exception,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Ain¡¯t no way, Miss. Nobody¡¯s going this far for a handful of nameless POWs. This here¡¯s gotta be a VIP room.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps it would have been clearer had you regained your consciousness earlier. We passed several similarly configured rooms along the way.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± He cocked a brow. ¡°Where are the others? They split us off into two rooms or something?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re the only ones they captured,¡± said Chloe. She walked over from the kitchen and set a plateful of snacks in front of her mistress.


    ¡°Claire evaded capture on her own,¡± said Arciel, before turning her eyes to the clam. ¡°Krail and Lana escaped through our combined efforts.¡±


    ¡°And Sophia?¡±


    Chloe bit her lip and shook her head. ¡°She wasn¡¯t staying down.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Ace briefly tensed his tail and clenched his toes, ¡°them¡¯s the breaks, I guess. Didn¡¯t know her for long, but she wasn¡¯t all bad.¡±


    ¡°She shan¡¯t be forgotten,¡± said Arciel.


    There was a brief moment of silence.


    ¡°So?¡± The lizardman glanced at the door¡¯s open bean slot before lowering his voice. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡±


    ¡°Frankly, I have not the faintest clue as to the best course of action,¡± said Arciel. ¡°It has only been a few hours since our capture, and while I have certainly considered an attempt at escape, I cannot see how it might be feasible.¡±


    ¡°They trounced us pretty badly the first time,¡± agreed Chloe.


    ¡°Shut the fuck up,¡± snapped Jules. ¡°You literally didn¡¯t even fucking fight!¡±


    ¡°How was I supposed to!?¡± cried the maid. ¡°They sent eight of them after me, eight! I¡¯m barely level four hundred!¡±


    ¡°You could have fucking tried!¡± shouted the clam.


    ¡°I¡¯m a maid, I¡¯m not supposed to be fighting in the first place!¡±


    ¡°Coward.¡± The clam clicked his tongue.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear that from someone who lost two against one.¡±


    ¡°Did you see what they were wearing?¡± snarled Jules. ¡°I¡¯m a fucking mage. You want to try getting past three fucking layers of magic resistance? They didn¡¯t even try to defend themselves against the physical attacks. Their armour was so frail that you could¡¯ve broken it in a single goddamn hit, and you chose to fucking surrender.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re making it sound like I could land a hit! How am I supposed to land a hit against eight people twice my level!?¡±


    ¡°Alright, you two. That¡¯s enough,¡± said Matthias. ¡°Calm down. We aren¡¯t going to get anything done by fighting amongst ourselves.¡±


    ¡°Why the fuck are you acting like hot shit when you were just as useless as she was?¡± Jules scoffed. ¡°That dumbfuck wrench monkey you were fighting basically pulled down his pants and shoved his ass in your face, and you still couldn¡¯t do shit.¡±


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°I understand your frustration, Jules, but that is enough,¡± said Arciel.


    Audibly clicking his tongue, the clam grabbed a few documents off the shelves and lumbered his way to one of the private rooms. He slammed the door in one last act of frustration, leaving the others with nothing but an awkward silence.


    For a little while, that was how they remained. Chloe angrily picked at the fruits, eating large bites at a time while everyone else simply sat around. It wasn¡¯t like they had nothing to say. Ace very much wanted to jump back into the previous discussion, but he found it impossible to broach the subject.


    It didn¡¯t help that he still had a lot to think about. His own failure was still fresh on his mind. The Cadrians were much tougher than he had expected. Even having released his seal right off the bat, he hadn¡¯t stood much of a chance.


    He didn¡¯t know exactly how powerful their champions were, but they would need a miracle to defeat even the soldiers by whom they had just been captured. He was finally starting to understand his master¡¯s concern. The career soldiers far outclassed Roroavain¡¯s, his nation¡¯s, most brilliant. They could never stand against the eastern titan should the alliance crumble.


    Whether that was genuinely a problem was for the higher-ups to decide. He would need to visit the nation to be sure, but the lizardman doubted that Cadria¡¯s thirst for conquest was primarily resource-driven. All the evidence seemed to imply an abundance of wealth. Either that, or they were simply unable to prioritize their spending.


    The state of their citizenry and the decency of their legal system were the last two points he required to complete his report. If the people were well off, and if the courts were decent, he would have no choice but to suggest to his superiors that they pull their funding from the alliance¡¯s pockets. In such a case, the obvious answer was to swear fealty in advance and await the Cadrians¡¯ continental conquest, assuming their cultural norms were acceptable. Roroavain¡¯s primary concern was with the rumours of barbarism¡ªthe seemingly widespread claim that Cadria was a nation of bloodthirsty murders and unreasonable tyrants.


    Located on the continent¡¯s opposite coast, nearly five thousand kilometers away, they had always found it difficult to differentiate fact from falsehood. The alliance was a filter. The military blockade they had established to keep the Cadrians at bay barred even traders and bards from crossing the borders. It was impossible to go from Roroavain to Cadria without taking a long, southerly detour that avoided the military lines. That was how Ace had ended up in Vel¡¯khan in the first place, and how he had stumbled upon the opportunity to infiltrate a nation at war with that of the possible threat he was meant to probe. It wasn¡¯t by any means the original plan. He was only meant to blend in to learn the local norms so that he could fake his place of origin. But the war was a golden opportunity, and he hadn¡¯t been so foolish as to let it go untaken.


    Sophia was the only one to have ever traced his origin. The Vel¡¯khanese government clearly knew he wasn¡¯t native, but even if they thought him somewhat suspicious, none of the others had ever caught him in the act of making a report. In a way, he was relieved that she had lost the ability to reveal the truth, even though he hadn¡¯t minded her as a person.


    Alas, his feelings were no longer relevant. Sophia was dead. He saw them end her first hand.


    ¡°Anyway, as I was saying earlier,¡± he muttered. ¡°We¡¯re gonna need to throw together a plan.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± Arciel looked around the room. ¡°If you, any of you, have any suggestions, I am prepared to hear them.¡±


    ¡°Would normally say that the simplest solution is usually the best, but I doubt an upfront approach would be much in the way of viable,¡± said Ace.


    ¡°Such tomfoolery would certainly see us immediately suppressed,¡± agreed Arciel.


    ¡°It might not be as bad as it seems,¡± said Matthias. ¡°I tracked some of their fighters, and most of them have split up and gone off to different ships.¡±


    ¡°Doubt we can beat even one or two all that quickly if they¡¯ve got it in their minds to stall,¡± said Ace. ¡°We¡¯d probably need to shift right into a full sprint.¡±


    ¡°We are incapable of besting their raw speed,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Escape is unlikely, lest we find ourselves an inland sea.¡±


    ¡°There aren¡¯t any nearby,¡± said Chloe. ¡°Our best bet is waiting for Claire. I¡¯m sure she¡¯s got something in mind already.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, but I would not count on her success. As the clone I summoned was defeated, it is highly unlikely that she will emerge victorious. She cannot match it in single combat.¡± Arciel tapped her fan against her lips. ¡°In either case, I believe a preliminary survey of the ship is in order. It would be to our benefit to learn of our escape routes in advance.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t we just get away with whatever you said we could do earlier?¡± said Ace. ¡°Back in the dungeon.¡±


    Arciel shook her head. ¡°It was not my ability that I listed.¡±


    ¡°Figured,¡± grunted the lizardman. ¡°Guess that means we¡¯ll just have to scout the place.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s going to be possible. None of us are good at sneaking around,¡± said the maid.


    ¡°Oh, Chloe, must you always consider the least legitimate method?¡± Arciel breathed an exaggerated sigh as she walked up to the door and lightly rapped her knuckles against it, a smile on her face throughout. ¡°Excuse me.¡±


    The guards spoke to each other in muffled voices, their words unable to pass through the door intact. But while they were effectively silent, their intentions still got across when one sent the other off. He returned a few minutes later with a higher-ranking officer in tow. The man in question¡ªa particularly muscular centaur with a cursed scar across his face¡ªlooked briefly at the expectant Arciel before chanting a few things under his breath and scrubbing his hand across the bean hole.


    There was a long hiss; the pressurized cabin was soon left with the same, thin air as the world beyond it.


    ¡°Yes?¡± asked the centaur.


    ¡°I wish for a tour of this craft,¡± said Arciel.


    The man in question paused for a few seconds. ¡°That can be arranged, but you must adhere to a number of conditions.¡±


    ¡°I bid you to list them.¡±


    ¡°The first is that every individual who wishes to tour the ship must be subjected to a set of physical and magical restraints,¡± he said. ¡°You will only be allowed access to the common areas, and you must be escorted by a higher-level combatant at all times. This, of course, includes the use of restrooms and other essential facilities. If you find those conditions satisfactory, I can arrange for a tour shortly.¡±


    ¡°I do not mind,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Excellent. Before I leave, is there anything else that you will require? Perhaps additional bedding?¡± he said. ¡°Unfortunately, much of the relevant data was lost with our previous lord, and we are uncertain of how to accommodate you.¡±


    ¡°We shall be fine on that front,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Then I will return at a later time.¡± The centaur bowed before casting another spell and restoring the room¡¯s surface-level pressure.


    ¡°Rather easy, was it not?¡± The queen folded her legs and raised her fan to her face, somewhat amused, while everyone else in the room stared in confusion.


    There was no such thing as an enemy foolish enough to provide a tour of their base. Or at least there shouldn¡¯t have been. Either stupidity or supreme confidence was required for one to consider the request. It didn''t matter that the confidential areas were sealed. To allow the prisoners to explore the ship was to allow them to plot an escape. Being a military officer, especially one tasked with the gaol, there was no way he was unaware. He had to have known and simply not cared.


    Ace¡¯s first thought was that they were incompetent, but he doubted it with everything he had seen so far. It was not that their enemies were looking down upon them or even overestimating themselves. They simply didn¡¯t care.


    The message was loud and clear. They were not a threat.

 Chapter 358 - The Stifled Sword II

    Chapter 358 - The Stifled Sword II


    109833 - 3 - 3 - 4


    Dear Diary,


    We finally managed to get out of the weird country with all of the Sunaks. I can¡¯t believe there are actually roads! And really good ones too! Master says that the people here in Moros are really unpredictable and that we need to be careful.


    All the ones we met were really nice, but apparently, they can get really violent really fast, and there are always a whole bunch of wars and stuff.


    Ms. Olga says we¡¯re almost there. I didn¡¯t realize, but we¡¯ve already been out on the road for two whole months! I miss mom and dad even more now, but I¡¯m really excited too. I can¡¯t wait to see what Ms. Olga¡¯s home is like.


    Lia


    ___


    A room at the local inn could not be secured. Though the Cadrian army had evacuated much of the city ahead of the conflict and spread all sorts of propaganda, the lack of board was not any fault of theirs. The local merchants came flooding back into town as soon as the northlanders¡¯ ships departed. A few heartbeats later and it was back to business as usual. Though some parts of the city had ultimately been destroyed, the Cadrians won handily enough to prevent the damage from spreading. It spanned only three of the seventy-odd blocks between the city¡¯s two ends.


    And though Claire and her companions had clearly been a part of the problem, the locals did not brand them as criminals. They cared little for the conflict, in spite of the resulting damage. It was simply a part of the local culture. Skarnia¡¯s nobles had their wallets fattened by the merchants¡¯ taxes, and the local lord was happy to cover the reconstruction and compensate the individuals affected for any items lost in the conflict.


    It was not just insurance that drove their decision, but also an increase in profit. The particularly savvy had pedalled a mix of magnifying tools, food, and drinks to sate the curiosities and appetites of the many interested in the unscheduled event; it had practically devolved into a city-wide party.


    So why then would Claire and her companions be stranded?


    The answer was as simple as it was measurable. Despite having observed and processed the national zeitgeist, they lacked the one thing that the locals cared most about.


    Money.


    They were dead broke.


    That wasn¡¯t to say that they had no assets to their names. Technically, they still had their wagon and the six turberi responsible for pulling it, and Claire suspected that there were likely a few coins to be scrounged if they sifted through all the items placed therein. But it only accounted for a small portion of their resources. The party¡¯s wallet was in Chloe¡¯s hands. By kidnapping her, the enemy had inadvertently frozen their financial accounts.


    There wasn¡¯t much that they could do for cash. They had a few dead birds stashed in Sylvia¡¯s tail, but none of the merchants were looking to accept them. The Cadrians had missed the opportunity to take in their prey; every last soldier had been forced to evacuate as soon as the fox¡¯s spell was cast, and consequently, there was a sudden influx in the supply of high-level birds. There were more of them on the ground than the local craftsmen could meaningfully process; the excess would only decay and go to waste.


    Though certainly annoying, the lack of shelter was ultimately a minor inconvenience. The fox was already out of the bag, so Sylvia slapped something together as they ventured beyond the city¡¯s limits. The building itself was nothing special, just a quick copy-and-paste of the home they had in Vel¡¯khagan. Lana and Krail were appalled by the display of power, but feeling too tired to care, Claire ignored their impressions, wandered upstairs, and planted her face in bed.


    Knowing that the home was fake did nothing to stop her from basking in the familiar scents and sensations. The terms of its existence were irrelevant. The shop was technically just an illusion as well, but it was powerful enough that it may as well have been real. At the very least, there hadn¡¯t existed a soul in Vel¡¯khagan that had ever doubted its presence.


    She was asleep before the count of three, with Sylvia still in her arms and half-smothered into the sheets. On a typical day, she would have retained the ability to feel the fox¡¯s fluff, but all sensations were stolen without a moment¡¯s delay. She wasn¡¯t even given the opportunity to select her destination; she was falling through the darkness as soon as her eyes were closed.


    She tried to steady herself. She spread her wings wide to absolutely no avail. She couldn¡¯t stop falling; her chest didn¡¯t respond when she reached for her key, and none of the usual doors appeared. But despite the abnormalities, she wasn¡¯t the slightest bit concerned. She enjoyed her descent. Stretching her arms, she melded into the bottomless sky and became one with its wuthering turbulence. That was when the ground finally returned. It slowly formed beneath her, so far away that she could barely make it out. She expected to land as it drew closer, but her body passed right through, only for it to form again even further away.


    Thrice it happened. She broke through every ground level she passed as her mind sank deeper into the darkest depths. And then, the falling suddenly stopped. The sensation of the rushing wind was suddenly taken away.


    Faint lights appeared in her surroundings, gradually forming the floor into a room and the room into a house. And then, she finally saw him, sitting on his couch and floating behind it as always, both his body and his spirit staring at a brightly lit screen. Headhydra was with him. She was sitting on the couch, half asleep with a box tucked into her lap. She continued to manipulate its buttons even as her consciousness waned, her eyes as focused as she could make them.


    The phantom waited for the whole building¡ªthe whole world¡ªto be completed before he turned to face her. Gesturing silently at the sofa, he handed her a manipulation box so she could join their contest. And for a while, that was all they did.


    Time flew by. The clock did a full circle, and then a second, and eventually a third. Only then, after his win streak was finally broken, did the phantom raise his voice.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you use your divinity?¡±


    She wasn¡¯t looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on the box, but his expression was clear. She could see it faintly reflected in the glowing screen. He wasn¡¯t confused or disappointed. He was outright annoyed.


    Though somewhat surprised, the lyrkress pointed to her body, namely the parts that had once been broken.


    The phantom frowned. ¡°Your ascension accounts for the broken state of your body.¡±


    She blinked. She had certainly tried before, and it had always felt like she was burning.


    ¡°User error,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re focusing on all the wrong parts. It¡¯s not supposed to hurt you.¡±


    She tilted her head.


    ¡°I¡¯ve used more divinity than you could fathom,¡± he said. ¡°You are not handling it correctly.¡± The phantom floated over to the window, and taking a deep breath, drew open the curtains with a set of vectors. ¡°And that¡¯s why this world is so broken.¡±


    It was the first time she saw the surroundings without distortion, the first time she saw the brick houses and the metal boxes as they were meant to be, and the first time that the realm was clear.


    That was when she realized. The usual blur¡ªthe veil to which she had grown so accustomed¡ªhad vanished without a trace. It was precisely its nonpresence that led to her sense of trepidation.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    She didn¡¯t know what it was or where it came from, but something about the world filled her with wave after wave of mind-numbing dread. It was almost like she feared it, like the world itself was rejecting her and slowly pushing her away. There was a pulse every few seconds, a strange sense of distortion that ate away at her sense of self.


    Suddenly, it was like she was back inside her father¡¯s room, trembling as she awaited his deathly command. Like she was standing in front of her mother¡¯s casket, forced to prepare her flesh to be eaten. Like she was staring down Lia¡¯s body, right after she was stolen away. There was nothing left to live for. Her fingers were cold, cold as the blood that ran through her veins.


    She wanted to curl up and die, to go somewhere far, far away where the world would never reach her, somewhere she could vanish and hide and be all alone.


    The sensation lasted until the first crack formed. The splinter that rent the world in two finally gave her peace of mind, doing away with the pain like it was an unfathomable illusion.


    She gasped for air despite having no need. She fell to her knees and shook as she wrapped her arms around them. It lasted until another splinter made its way across the world, another explicit crack that broke her vision in two.


    Panic assailed her as the horror abated. She tried to piece the world back together, instinctively reaching out in an attempt to keep it from shattering. But the phantom placed his hands on her arms and slowly shook his head.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid,¡± he said, softly.


    Though hesitant, she eventually released her hands and observed another fissure.


    ¡°What do you think divinity is?¡± He undid the forces holding the curtains open and allowed for them to close. The cracks fixed themselves as he did, slowly filling themselves as her vision shifted back into its rightful place.


    She shook her head once they were all repaired.


    ¡°Guess.¡±


    Claire paused for a moment to imagine a strengthened soul.


    ¡°You¡¯re a little off base,¡± he said. ¡°Divinity is the beginning and end of all things.¡±


    The answer was met with a blink and a tilt of the head.


    ¡°It¡¯s the most malleable, accessible, and saveable form of energy,¡± he explained. ¡°Divinity can do anything. You can use it however you want to perform whatever miracle you want. It¡¯s a be-all-end-all that lets you change the world to your liking.¡±


    Another blink.


    ¡°It¡¯s the power to do what cannot be done, or more specifically, the fuel that enables it. It¡¯s what allows magic to change states of matter and spontaneously generate what there never was. It¡¯s what the system leverages to make something out of nothing and ensure that the world continues to run.¡±


    Claire tilted her head and lifted her hands.


    ¡°That is correct. They don¡¯t mix,¡± he said. ¡°They can¡¯t mix. Magic is its stripped-down, purified form, missing the necessary properties and components for it to be truly unbound. Ironically, those properties are what make it so hazardous and difficult to handle.¡± He paused for a moment to take a breath. Even though he was a ghost. ¡°That¡¯s why you don¡¯t need your dysfunctional magic circuits. You have no need for something that you can make.¡±


    The lyrkress¡¯ eyes glimmered, but the ghost only deepened his frown.


    ¡°Unfortunately, no, that does not mean we can fix your circuits, nor does it mean you can continue to use your magic. Few are capable of such delicate work even leveraging more systematic means. You are still broken, and unless you¡¯re incredibly careful and sparse with the magic you use, the healing process will still be pushed back and subsequently denied. But your divinity, you can use regardless. Let it seep into the cracks. Let it spread throughout your body. Cycling it, burning it, should do more than enough to improve your strength. But if you truly wish, then you can give it form, so long as you¡¯re careful about the shape of your use.¡±


    Claire furrowed her brow. She didn¡¯t think that she could do it. She couldn¡¯t form her true ice with her divinity alone.


    ¡°That would be where you¡¯re mistaken.¡± He extended a hand towards her and drew a golden energy from the depths of her shard. It swirled around his fingers and gathered in the palm of his hand. ¡°Divinity is malleable energy. And energy is simply a function of mass, distance, and time.¡±


    There was a ticking sound as he crushed the golden mist between his fingers. It was quick at first, clicking nonstop like a magical engine, but each tick drained its speed, slowing it to a dead snail¡¯s pace. Everything suddenly stopped. The curtains halted, the clock stopped ticking, and Headhydra¡¯s avatar¡ªwhich had been beating up hers while she looked away from the screen¡ªfroze in the middle of throwing a punch. The pause only lasted for a few seconds. The avatar resumed its attack after a brief delay, striking as usual, as if it had never been present at all.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have much time,¡± he said. ¡°The god of the hunt already has his eyes set on your back. There wasn¡¯t much left to begin with, all the more reason for this to be done.¡±


    The house vanished with a snap of his fingers. It was replaced by a wide open field filled with brilliant white flowers that reached as high as her knees. It almost seemed endless, stretching so far that she couldn¡¯t see an end no matter where she looked. The petals didn¡¯t move when she touched them, but they swayed gently in the wind, in the breeze that failed to billow through her hair even as it passed through her body.


    Headhydra appeared to suffer from the same phenomenon. She was standing a fair ways away, all nine heads craned as high as they could go so she could observe the world from up above. The man¡¯s body was the only thing that could touch the world. It was sitting naked, cross-legged in the flowers with their petals as the only tool to preserve his decency. He was even more dishevelled than his usual shaggy self, with everything from his beard to his chest hair to his arm hair so overgrown that he could almost pass for a sasquatch.


    ¡°And for that reason, you can¡¯t leave this place until you¡¯ve mastered it.¡± He turned his eyes to the nine-headed lizard. ¡°Farenlight, if you could.¡±


    Headhydra nodded her heads religiously. Divinity, bursts of red and black, began to swell from her core, extending from within and reaching into each of her limbs and necks. She grew to the size she had in life, but with far greater strength coursing through her veins. Claire could tell, not only from the supreme confidence she exuded but in the way her own body reacted. A primal fear welled up within her, albeit one that she quickly dismissed. It was just Headhydra. There was no reason to embrace her terror.


    ¡°Oh, and before we begin.¡± The phantom snapped his fingers and floated right in front of her face. ¡°We should close the gap between your physical and spiritual forms.¡± Pain coursed through her the moment his finger touched her forehead. And the world was fractured again. But unlike the last time, it wasn¡¯t the space itself that was torn. The crack in her vision moved with her head; it was impressed directly upon her body.


    Looking down, she found them spread throughout, worming its way through her frame just like the breaks in her circuits. Worst of all was the way they felt. The liberation that had accompanied her journey into the abyss, the permanent aching she had finally escaped, had returned to haunt her again.


    Claire met the man with a glare, but he remained unbothered.


    ¡°It¡¯s only temporary,¡± he said, with a smile. ¡°Good luck.¡±


    No sooner than he spoke had she suffered an attack. Headhydra closed the distance between them and forced their bodies to collide. It shouldn¡¯t have mattered much. She didn¡¯t bite. It was just a tackle. And yet, the lyrkress¡¯ arm was broken. Her joints and tendons were twisted out of shape and even the bone itself was snapped. It was the sort of injury that she had forgotten for two whole ascensions, the sort of injury she hadn¡¯t expected to have to endure again.


    She could tell exactly what she did.


    Headhydra had channelled her divinity through her body on contact. She forced it into the existing weak points and ripped her body apart. Blood sprayed from the parts where her flesh was twisted open, even though there was no real flesh to be had.


    Claire took a breath and raised her guard as the monstrosity approached her again. She tried channelling her own divinity throughout her body, in spite of the rampant pain. She forced it through right as the hydra wrapped around, but the second clash was hardly any more successful. She managed to prevent any further breakage, but she could feel the cracks that formed in her body, the cracks that spread throughout her frame.


    Her divinity wasn¡¯t enough on its own.


    Even in equal quantity, it failed to match what the hydra delivered.


    She couldn¡¯t decode the reason, not even as the phantom heaved a tired sigh.


    ¡°Why do you insist on using that broken shell?¡± His disappointed words echoed through the back of her mind. ¡°Who do you think you are? What do you think you are?¡±


    The question only confused her, which prompted him to shake his head.


    ¡°If you want your divinity to shine, then do away with your petty disguise,¡± he said. ¡°Lay your true form bare.¡±


    He forcefully changed her body, stripping away the flesh that existed for make-believe.


    ¡°Show me, show this world the reason you deserve to reign.¡±


    The words were pretty, almost easy to believe.


    But Claire knew better than anyone.


    The power he offered was not the power she sought.


    Still, if he was refusing to release her, then she had little choice but to play along.

 Chapter 359 - The Stifled Sword III

    Chapter 359 - The Stifled Sword III


    109833 - 3 - 3 - 8


    Dear Diary,


    We¡¯re finally here! Ms. Olga says that we¡¯re camping on the border between Moros and Vel¡¯khan today. There¡¯s even a sign on the side of the road. The only difference is that the road on the Moros side is way better. I was kind of disappointed, but Ms. Olga keeps talking about how good everything¡¯s gonna get. I¡¯m starting to think I shouldn¡¯t believe her.


    Lia.


    ___


    Arciel stifled a yawn as her eyes slowly blinked open. She hadn¡¯t the faintest clue as to how long she slept. The room was every bit as dark as it was when she first fell asleep, but that was more so a property of the space than it was of the time. For one, there were no windows connecting the prison to the world beyond it¡ªa wise choice, all things considered. Arciel could have easily slipped through such an opening by hopping between the shadows. The method of escape was still viable with the door, albeit much less so. The guards would likely notice were she to attempt to pass them by.


    Though awake, the queen did not immediately rise from her bed. She rolled back and forth, hugging a pillow to her chest as she enjoyed the soft, foreign mattress. She knew it was improper and that she ought to return to her duties, but it had been quite some time since she had experienced such an alluring mattress¡ªthe bedrolls that had accompanied them on their journey were every bit as cheap as the few inns they rented¡ªshe wasn''t about to give it up so readily, especially not knowing when she would be allowed another chance to relax.


    Despite her unwillingness, the squid eventually rose. She pushed herself out of bed and, after taking a moment to scan the room, looked towards the door.


    Chloe entered right on cue. She hadn''t the faintest clue as to how the maid knew that she was about to be summoned, but in either case, she made her way into the room whilst humming a tune under her breath. Ciel refrained from questioning the usual anomaly and shifted her eyes to the bucket the former human had carried inside. The wooden pail was filled with hot water and accompanied by a set of towels and scented soaps.


    ¡°Good morning, Chloe.¡±


    ¡°Morning.¡± Smiling through the faint blush on her face, the maid closed the door, set down her equipment, and pulled up a chair in front of the mirror. Neither bothered to engage the iridescent artifacts meant to light the space. Being vampires, they could easily see in the dark.


    Ciel, by all means, should have moved over to the chair as soon as it was presented, but she stayed put and allowed herself to be spoiled. She waited for Chloe to take the pillow out of her arms, even squeezing it just a tiny bit as a means of petty resistance. She lazily leaned into the maid¡¯s hands as she was lifted from her bedside and escorted to the looking glass. She was well aware of the way Chloe¡¯s breath was stuck in her throat, of the way she was so desperately trying not to pant and drool. But she ignored it. As she always did.


    Still half asleep, she waited for the maid to wipe her body¡ªshe had already taken a bath before going to bed, and had no intention of taking another¡ªdo her hair, and arrange her clothes. Everything was put in perfect order so she would not embarrass herself in public.


    It took a few seconds for the drowsy squid to catch on, but the clothes she was given were not at all her own. Rather, they were silken men¡¯s garments provided by the Cadrians, likely at Chloe¡¯s request. The tour wasn¡¯t exactly a formal occasion, but there was a chance that they would meet with the ship¡¯s commander, and with that in mind, it was better to be safe than sorry.


    One could certainly argue that crossdressing on another individual¡¯s dime defeated the point entirely, but as with many of the other silly rituals maintained by the nobility, it was more about the end than it was the means. Wearing a man¡¯s outfit would at least preserve her dignity within the realm of her mind, or at least it would had she not felt ashamed of the perfect fit. Her own clothes had started to get a little too snug. She didn¡¯t have a scale to confirm her weight, but she could feel it in the way the fibres fought against her chest.


    Worse yet, her maid was well aware of the extra weight she put on during her time abroad. Were they back home, Chloe surely would have complained aloud and informed her that she was either eating too much or exercising too little. But for once in her life, the former human kept silent, only adding to the squid¡¯s discomfort.


    She left the dark room after a few minutes of beautification. Her hair was perfectly combed and her face was covered in a thin layer of makeup. It was entirely unnecessary; the powder was the same colour as her skin and she had no blemishes to hide, but its presence was necessary. She needed to appear as if she had put in the effort to look her very best.


    Her late breakfast was already waiting for her out in the common area. Despite its relative simplicity, it was the sort of meal completely outside the average household¡¯s reach. Her tea was a special Kryddarian brand fed for the high nobility, her fried eggs had been laid by a golden Skarnian goose, her fruit was picked from Primrose¡¯s garden, and her toast was made from milled vekratt hay.


    If the plates in the sink were any indication, the others were already done eating. Ace was the only one still at the table, groggily picking away at his meal whilst mumbling about a lack of protein. Such was the norm for lizardmen, however, as their meals were typically comprised almost entirely of insects and meats.


    It didn¡¯t take long for Ciel to dismiss the carnivore and begin her meal. She was still a little zoned out, so she started with the drink, sipping away at it as Chloe informed the guards that they would soon be ready to leave. Her mind remained hazy for another ten-odd minutes, but it sharpened by the time she was done. Thankfully, the others were already accustomed to the behaviour and waited for her to wake before they probed her mind.


    The door hissed open a few minutes after the meal¡¯s completion. The officer who had spoken to them earlier slowly knocked three times before pushing it open. He looked exactly as he had through the tiny slit; his top half was dressed in a standard military uniform, while his bottom was equipped with a lengthy metal skirt.


    His outfit made it difficult for her to determine if he was observing the Vel¡¯khanese custom, as the late Pollux had done during his time in the country. The upper half of his clothes were unisex and the plaided metal skirt that protected his delicates was practically essential gear for anyone that shared his silhouette. Of course, one could argue that their armour was unnecessary to begin with, given that most of the warriors were of the regenerating type. It was impossible to decipher his intentions, so Ciel decided not to try.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± she said. She didn¡¯t recall his name, or if he had even mentioned it.


    Perhaps realizing that, the man dropped to a knee and placed a hand right over his chest. His horse-like shape mitigated the intended effect. He was still far taller, and the antlers sitting atop his head didn¡¯t help in the slightest. Each was nearly thirty centimeters tall and twice as long. Their shapes were fairly comb-like, with the teeth pointed upwards and as thick as a person¡¯s fingers.


    ¡°Perhaps an introduction might be a little overdue. I am Sergeant Balbus of Tornatus, a bighorn cervitaur of the moose variety, and I serve as this ship¡¯s executive prison warden.¡±


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    The royal slowly nodded her head. She thought the combination of his species and dark coat to be a little strange; all the moose she knew or heard of were more lightly coloured. ¡°I am Arciel Vel¡¯khan. My race is empress of tentacles and blood, and as you may be aware already, I reign as queen of Vel¡¯khan.¡± She stood up from her seat and gestured with her fan for the others to follow. ¡°Let us waste no more time. Present the restraints we require.¡±


    The moose gestured at the servant stationed outside, who entered with a cart of items in tow. The restraints were surprisingly simple, shackles for bodies of different types in addition to a set of wriggling cloth bands.


    ¡°Those are the magical bindings I mentioned earlier,¡± said Balbus, after a brief delay. ¡°Do be warned, they are not the most pleasant.¡± The servant picked one up and showed it off as the sergeant continued to speak. Specifically, he showed off the underside, which featured a toothy mouth and a set of glowing yellow eyes. ¡°They belong to a unique species of leech that feeds exclusively on mana,¡± he explained. ¡°We acquired them after a few hundred years of breeding, and I do believe they stemmed from one of our king¡¯s initiatives.¡±


    ¡°No matter,¡± said Ciel. She extended her hand and exposed her wrist. ¡°Let us begin.¡±


    The sensation wasn¡¯t pleasant¡ªshe could feel its teeth as it sank into her skin¡ªbut neither was it particularly grating. The way it sucked her mana was somewhat familiar, reminiscent of the way she felt when a certain snake-moose did the very same. The only differences were that it was weaker and less random. It still disturbed the flow of her magic, but only enough to keep her from accessing her most delicate spells.


    The warden appeared to notice as well, cocking a brow and reseating his hat, but he refrained from commenting on it aloud. He silently waited for everyone to be restrained before moving to the doorway and propping it open.


    ¡°Now, as I said before, you will have to be on your best behaviour.¡± He wore a dark smile, like he was daring his audience to defy him, but he didn¡¯t make any explicit threats as he led them down the hall. His pacing was controlled; he walked just slowly enough to give them time to examine the other cells. ¡°As I am sure you have already surmised, this is our prison ward. Any warrior captured in combat is kept here until further notice. Does anyone have any questions before we move on?¡±


    ¡°Got a solid one,¡± said Ace. Chloe shot him a bit of a look, but the lizardman continued regardless. ¡°Why''s it that you treat your prisoners so well? Doesn''t make much sense, if you ask me.¡±


    The warden adjusted his hat again. ¡°Historically, it was because we only captured warriors who had earned our respect. Everyone else was executed on the spot. That particular circumstance is most likely what led to us being described as barbarians, however, and we have since changed our ways,¡± he explained. ¡°The previous king found that our reputations across the continent were a little too poor for our taste, so he arranged for a campaign to rid us of any unsavoury behaviours while preserving many of our more reputable traditions.¡±


    ¡°Then why the fuck did you kill the shark?¡± growled Jules. ¡°And don¡¯t fucking lie to me. I saw what her foe did. The piece of shit was enjoying himself through and through.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, not everyone is intelligent enough to grasp the higher-ups¡¯ intentions. For the record, we have detained him and subjected him to punishment. To be honest, given the circumstances, there is not much we can charge him with besides insubordination, so he is unlikely to suffer anything beyond a pay cut. I do sympathize, but it is what it is.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re being awfully honest for someone that¡¯s trying to fix their rep,¡± said the lizard.


    ¡°Would you rather I lied?¡± asked the moose.


    ¡°Honestly, yeah,¡± said Ace. ¡°The way you¡¯re acting right now gives me the creeps. Wish you¡¯d at least try to make yourself seem like less of a psycho.¡±


    ¡°It comes with the job, unfortunately.¡± Balbus laughed. ¡°Anyone else?¡± He paused briefly to scan the crowd. ¡°Perfect. Let''s move on. The next area that we will be visiting is the artillery battery. At least try to keep your hands to yourselves. I would rather not have to clean up another bloody mess.¡±


    ¡°Shut the fu¡ª¡± It was a cheap provocation, but it worked to perfect effect. Ace had to smack Jules in the back of the head before the wrong words could escape his lips.


    ¡°Ignore him,¡± he said. ¡°Ain¡¯t right in the head, that boy.¡±


    ¡°Who the fuck do you think you¡¯re calling a bo¡ª¡± The mage tried to lash out, but Ace clamped a hand over his mouth and shook his head.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have minded much if you let him finish,¡± said the warden.


    Ace forced a laugh. ¡°You know it wouldn¡¯t end well, Mister.¡±


    The cervitaur laughed aloud as he led them through the battleship and its many halls. The corridors were every bit as extravagant as the room, and the magical lights pulsing within them were placed and tweaked to echo the brightness of a midsummer day. They were so perfectly tuned that the environment almost didn¡¯t seem to change as they ascended a flight of stairs and entered an above-ground space.


    Arriving at the top, the prisoners quickly discovered the sheer extent of the centaurs¡¯ arrogance. The gaol was connected directly to a living space; the hall that they entered was filled with butlers and maids. They practically sprinted to and fro, pushing the carts in front of them as quickly as they could without spilling their contents.


    ¡°Please excuse the mess,¡± he said. ¡°The lunch rush will be starting soon, and we¡¯re working to get everything done as quickly as we can.¡±


    Surely enough, most of their transports were filled with piles of fresh ingredients. They were loosely categorized by their type. Some were filled with fruits and vegetables, while others transferred racks with whole animals suspended upon them.


    ¡°The vast majority of our protein comes from domestic cows,¡± explained the warden, as he noticed Arciel¡¯s gaze. ¡°They run rampant in our lands, and we have even bred a few select species to ensure the most delicious result. Of course, career soldiers like us don¡¯t have all too much access to luxury goods like that, so the army tends to settle for highland cattle instead.¡±


    The queen nodded. ¡°But is five whole animals not too many for a ship of this size?¡±


    ¡°Quite the opposite,¡± said the cervitaur. ¡°From the timing, that¡¯s likely the third or fourth shipment for the day. We¡¯ve got nearly ten thousand mouths to feed, and half of us eat like horses.¡±


    ¡°It must be a great ordeal to transport enough food to feed so many soldiers.¡±


    ¡°We have our ways,¡± he said, with a faint smile.


    He continued leading the prisoners through the manor¡¯s halls. The interior may have appeared somewhat homely for one of high birth, but the size and structure were closer to that of a castle. The halls were convoluted to make it difficult for an invader to navigate, and it took them well over a dozen turns to arrive in the building¡¯s foyer.


    Heading outside revealed an exterior far greater than that of the ship that had visited Vel¡¯khan. Unlike the tiny carrier class that late Pollux had chosen, the vessel they were aboard was considered a capital ship. It had certainly seemed massive when they saw it from below, shadowing several of the city¡¯s blocks at a time, but it was high up enough that the scale was difficult to process. Standing on top of the fortress and looking over its contents really impressed upon them just how absurd it was.


    The mothership was a functional district in and of itself. There were streets, buildings, and even farms along the outer edges. The massive castle they had exited was but one of the many landmarks that existed atop the sky. Together, the twenty-odd ships suspended in the air around them provided more habitable space than the city of Vel¡¯khagan.


    If there was one oddity to call out, one thing that put the floating castles in a league of their own, it was the demographic. Most of the people aboard the ship were of military age. That wasn¡¯t to say that the ship was devoid of children and seniors, but the proportion was overwhelmingly skewed towards the active combatants. Of course, that did not necessarily mean that they were truly young. It was more likely that they had locked in their apparent ages through ascension or perhaps simply gained much longer lives. In any case, they were fit and ready for battle.


    The scattered cityscape, if one could settle for labeling it as such, was on the bougier end. The buildings were adorned with fancy, foreign designs and almost appeared to be cut out of whole pieces of stone.


    It was a bit of a strange choice. Arciel would have expected them to use wood given the need for the aircraft to stay afloat. Perhaps that was why the ship was moving so slowly; its parts were too heavy for its engines to whisk away.


    ¡°Do you have a particular destination in mind?¡±


    Arciel lightly tapped her fan against her chin before turning to the warden with a bold-faced smile. ¡°I wish to see your central command.¡±

 Chapter 360 - The Stifled Sword IV

    Chapter 360 - The Stifled Sword IV


    The world changed as Claire assumed her true form. She didn¡¯t know why, but the meadow twisted and turned, swirling into a mess of matter whose shape was slow to settle. It started by cycling through all the things she wanted to reject. Her father¡¯s office. The ritual chamber. The alley with the statue. But all that crumbled as quickly as it formed, giving way to a space atop a familiar, snowy mountain.


    It was like they were in her realm. Even though she hadn¡¯t cast it and even though its effects were moot.


    But while the frozen summit¡¯s advent had called for the meadow¡¯s destruction, the newer environment was not nearly as infinite. The space around it gave way to something different, a massive cave with which she was only vaguely familiar.


    She needed a second to recognize it, to dredge it up from within the corner of her mind in which everything useless was stashed. It was a memory she had obtained when she stole Headhydra¡¯s essence. The lizard¡¯s realm was larger than hers and it somehow contained everything but the sky within. The colliding worlds were clearly distinct. The stars lit the snowy peak, but their influence failed to extend beyond it. The distant, mossy walls that locked her in the realm remained unlit; they were visible only because of her ability to see right through the dark.


    Though curious, Claire was given no opportunity to analyze the world in detail. The battle resumed immediately; Headhydra charged at her in much the same way that she had before. Clad in divinity powerful enough to shake the mountain with every heavy step.


    When Claire tried to meet the attack, she found that her divinity flowed better than expected. It was much purer than she recalled; the reds and golds were much brighter. But it wasn¡¯t without a cost. The aching was worse. Everything hurt more, and it almost felt like her aura was weighing her down.


    She couldn''t stop the hydra from striking her. She moved her arm to parry the incoming attack, but it was too slow to obey her commands. The extended neck crashed into the side of her body and gouged her flesh with its teeth.


    The world shrank. The mountain groaned as the distant walls shifted closer and crushed its sides together.


    ¡°I forgot to mention,¡± said the phantom.


    She barely had the bandwidth to pay attention to his words. She was too busy warding off another bite. Having matched the lizard monster¡¯s height, she was no longer so small that the predator was unable to deliver a chain of attacks. There wasn¡¯t much of a point in listening to him to begin with. Neither of his points had worked in her favour.


    ¡°This might be a dream, but that doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re immortal,¡± he said, nonchalantly. ¡°Any damage you take will be reflected upon your naked soul.¡± He summoned her status screen with a wave of the hand and showed off a set of familiar numbers. ¡°If your health hits zero, then your life will immediately be forfeit.¡±


    Claire scoffed. She couldn¡¯t be bothered to consider the empty threat. He knew how she felt, and he had only made the claim in hopes of grabbing her focus.


    She lashed out with her claw and grabbed the head buried in her side. Coated in just as much divinity as the hydra¡¯s scales, her talons dug through the soft protectors and met the hydra¡¯s bones. She was surprised to find that they were made of all the same material as hers, but it didn¡¯t matter. She drained the divinity within and crushed the almost serpentine skull. Somehow, it was soothing. The divinity that she stole felt better than the divinity already flowing through her veins.


    Not because of its purity.


    But because of its corruption.


    It only then occurred to her that she had never tried it, that she had only ever assumed that gold was safer than red, and that the downsides of using the former would certainly apply to the more difficult latter. The conclusion had seemed so obvious, but in hindsight, also not. Even before her ascension, she had been told that she was more compatible with one than the other.


    She made the switch in a heartbeat.


    She didn¡¯t care for the phantom¡¯s nagging. It was purely an act of rebellion.


    It was like the world itself arranged for her to be shot down after every major win. The frog had crushed her when she first found her freedom. The bird had torched her in spite of her second ascension. And now some measly upstart who had hardly spent a few weeks as nobility had crushed her underfoot, right after she had defeated a set of literal gods.


    She was sick of losing, sick of being punched down each time she renewed her confidence. That was why she had challenged them in the first place. She had gone as far as swallowing her pride and asking her father for his advice. As far as she could recall, it was the first time her results had ever left him dumbstruck. It was the greatest win she could have possibly asked for.


    And yet, the outcome was unchanged.


    She still lost. Even with his unofficial stamp of approval. That wasn¡¯t how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to find a clever way to defeat the deer and crush him underfoot. That was what she had planned, expected, and needed. But it never happened. Neither her mind nor her body had worked quickly enough to overcome the man and his machinations. It was a horrible failure, the likes of which she could never afford again.


    Pollux¡¯s champions were weaklings. In the grand scheme of things, they could never measure up to the powerhouses sure to enter the competition. If she couldn¡¯t beat them, then she may as well give up on her father altogether.


    She needed more power. But power was hardly the only problem. She was strong enough to kill Porcius. That much, she had known, not only from her gut but their initial encounter. His speed had certainly saved him, but she had come close to ending him in a single blow the moment their paths first crossed.


    Her failure had stemmed from the inability to play her own cards. Her whole approach was wrong, thrown off in part because she had been sucked right into his rhythm, because she had let her enemy dictate the pace of the battle. Her inability to leverage her divinity was still a problem, but it didn¡¯t address the core issue that was her lack of adaptability. Applying divinity, applying her brute strength more correctly, would only lead to the same problem again as soon as she was overpowered.


    The real issue was her approach to combat. And tying a name to the fault made everything clear up.


    Her mistake was allowing her enemies to execute their strategies without applying her own. She never found a way to force them into a situation where her supposed petty tricks could shine their brightest, despite their absurd flexibility.


    The exact same mistake that the phantom had led her to make again.


    Only haphazardly deflecting the hydra¡¯s blows, she put her mind to work. She twisted its gears and turned its cogs in search of something beyond the phantom¡¯s path. Something that transcended Vella¡¯s gift. Something that she could call her own.


    ___


    Sylvia escaped Claire¡¯s grasp almost as soon as the lyrkress fell asleep. After taking a few moments to shove the moose under the blanket and a few more to do it again when her length spiked to ten meters, the fox slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her.


    She climbed on top of the Boris waiting by the door and lightly tapped him on the side. He lumbered over to the stairs, carefully manipulating his weight as he descended each step, before passing through the living room and entering the dining space. There were another three Borises present within the space, with two of them fumbling around in the kitchen for something to eat and the last basking on the table as the sunlight streamed in.


    Lana was playing with the lizard that lay on the table; the two were locked in a silent staring contest that neither was willing to yield. The brigade¡¯s remaining members were not quite as high energy. Starrgort was peeking over the table¡¯s edge while Krail was resting with his face in his hands and his staff against the table.


    ¡°Claire¡¯s gonna nap for a bit,¡± said Syliva.


    ¡°I was thinking that I might do the same, but it¡¯d probably be better if we worked out a plan first, assuming we¡¯re going to bother doing anything at all.¡± Krail turned his eyes to the fox with a tired sigh. ¡°Honestly, they beat us so badly I¡¯m starting to think that this whole journey is a waste of effort. It reminds me of that time my old buddies and I tried to challenge some local god or other.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯d that go?¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I was the only one to make it out alive,¡± said the elf.


    Sylvia lowered her head. She wasn¡¯t sure how to reply.


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    ¡°We might be okay,¡± said Lana. ¡°The quest hasn¡¯t failed.¡±


    ¡°Oh right!¡± The fox perked up. ¡°Griselda¡¯s supposed to be good at guiding people to places, and this whole thing is all part of one of her plans, I think?¡±


    Krail scoffed. ¡°Always the imaginary gods with you lot. We don¡¯t even know if they¡¯re still alive in the first place. Attacking the stronghold would probably just get us killed.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn, the tracker thingy I have on Ciel is saying she¡¯s fine,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Oh, and Claire¡¯s given me the okay to go all out and stuff, so we¡¯ll probably be fine.¡±


    ¡°Right. That reminds me.¡± Krail turned his eyes on the fox with his bright green. ¡°You¡¯re not level twenty.¡± That was what the skill had returned. It reported that she was a level twenty-six woodfox with a level forty bard class. Evaluating her mana returned a similar result. She only had a little bit, perhaps around a thousand points, as one would expect from a critter with her particular distribution.


    ¡°Uhmnm¡­ I er¡­ yeah, not exactly.¡± Sylvia awkwardly laughed off the accusation and scratched the back of her head.


    ¡°How are you fiddling with the skill¡¯s results? Do you have an accessory hidden under your fur or something? It doesn¡¯t look like you¡¯re wearing anything capable of interfering, or really anything at all for that matter.¡±


    Sylvia averted her eyes. ¡°Well uhmmm¡­¡± She quickly scanned the pair¡¯s minds and confirmed that they didn¡¯t seem hostile. ¡°I¡¯m kind of an aspect. So uhmm¡­ it¡¯s pretty easy.¡±


    The elf cocked a brow. ¡°That still doesn¡¯t make much sense. It would if you were an elf, but you clearly aren¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Right, so about that... I kinda am.¡±


    ¡°Are you a druid then? Are you just undoing your transformation in the girls¡¯ tent or something?¡± He looked at Lana, who only shook her head.


    ¡°No, uhm. My dad is an elf,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°So I¡¯m technically a half-elf.¡±


    Krail didn¡¯t react much at first, but his face slowly started to twist in horror as he swept his eyes across her form again. ¡°A-and what is your mother?¡± he stuttered.


    ¡°A fox, duh,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°R-right. Of course. Must¡¯ve been one of those stupid fucking Blackroots.¡± He moved a hand to his brow and slowly shook his head. Not even taking deep breaths was enough to calm him down completely. He did eventually regain the ability to converse, but his voice remained shaky, even as he set his hands back down on the table. ¡°What were we talking about again? Before all of¡­ this.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­¡± Sylvia paused for a second to think.


    ¡°Attacking the warship,¡± said Lana.


    ¡°Oh yeah, right! I think I can pretty much do most of it myself. We just need to sneak on board, save everyone, and then blow up all the ships, right?¡±


    ¡°Then why don¡¯t you?¡± asked Krail. ¡°It¡¯d be better to get it done sooner than later, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°I want to, but I think Claire had something specific in mind already, so I¡¯m gonna wait for her to wake up first.¡±


    ¡°Why the hell would you do that!?¡± grumbled the elf. ¡°The longer we sit around, the more likely it is for something to happen. It¡¯d be safer just to get them up and out as quickly as possible.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ I get what you¡¯re saying, but I kinda don¡¯t care,¡± said Sylvia, nonchalantly. ¡°They¡¯re probably not gonna do anything to Ciel, and I kinda don¡¯t really care about anyone else. Plus, Sophia¡¯s already dead anyway.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean she¡¯s dead!?¡± Krail furrowed his brow. ¡°Wait, what the fuck do you mean you don¡¯t care!?¡±


    ¡°Shhhh!¡± Sylvia pressed her paws against the bottom of his jaw and manually shut his mouth. ¡°Be quiet. You¡¯re gonna wake Claire up!¡±


    The elf tried to speak again, but she quickly captured his face inside a bubble and prevented any noise from leaking. The confused mage grabbed the sphere, but it refused to budge even as he channelled his magic through its mass. Sylvia, in the meantime, lightly patted her paws together, as if to shake the dust off of them, before puffing up her tail and returning to her side of the table.


    ¡°Anyway, anyway, I¡¯m pretty sure I saw some guy totally crush the crap out of Sophia, and she wasn¡¯t regenerating anymore after, so she¡¯s probably dead. And when I said I don¡¯t care, I pretty much meant it.¡±


    ¡°I thought you liked Chloe,¡± said Lana, with a blink.


    ¡°Kinda, but she¡¯s been super annoying ever since she ascended.¡± Sylvia raised a paw to her chin and sank into thought. She had liked the old Chloe a fair bit but she had recently started getting on her nerves. She was acting too much like Alfred for the fox¡¯s comfort, most likely because of their continued cultural exchange.


    One silly pervert was already more than enough. She didn¡¯t need a second.


    ¡°She¡¯s been nice to me,¡± said Lana.


    ¡°That¡¯s probably just ¡®cause she feels bad for you,¡± said Sylvia, with her eyes on the wolf girl¡¯s missing chest. ¡°Anyway, we should probably get something to eat before we get back to planning. We probably want to wait for Claire anyw¡ª¡±


    Suddenly freezing, the fox spun around, just in time to see Panda as he dashed into the room. He was out of breath; his chest was heaving so heavily that he was incapable of speech, only stuttering out a series of incoherent noises as he collapsed into a pile just outside the door. It was not just his swagger that was removed. One of his legs was missing, chopped off at the knee and bleeding full force. More blood had left his body and stained the imaginary house than could have existed within his tiny frame.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ hi,¡± said Sylvia, with a blink.


    He clenched his teeth and collapsed onto one of the walls. ¡°The situation¡¯s changed,¡± he said, between heavy breaths. ¡°Turns out it ain¡¯t Ephesus¡¯ plan that¡¯s got us by the clock. We¡¯re knee-deep in shit.¡±


    ¡°Which one was Ephesus again?¡± Sylvia looked around the table, but Starrgort and Lana shook their heads, while Boris and Boris snacked on a plate and Boris continued staring at the wall. It was impossible to tell from his behaviour alone if he was meant to be part of the conversation.


    Krail raised a hand, so she reluctantly undid his soundproof prison and allowed him to speak again. ¡°I¡¯ve never exactly been the best with names, you see,¡± said the elf. ¡°And it isn¡¯t like Claire¡¯s really explained much to the rest of us. It probably would¡¯ve been better if we¡¯d squeezed it out of her in hindsight, bu¡ª¡±


    Another face bubble cut him off.


    ¡°Yeah, so uhmmm¡­ none of us actually know who he is.¡±


    Panda breathed half a sigh, stopping only to hack out a mouthful of blood. ¡°Where¡¯s the girl?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s sleeping.¡±


    ¡°Wake her up,¡± grunted the trash panda.


    ¡°No way,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°She¡¯s tired.¡±


    ¡°Just fucking do it,¡± he grunted. ¡°Remember what I said about our time limit earlier? Well, that shit¡¯s pretty much gone out the window. She needs to know that Porcius is even dumber than we thought.¡±


    ___


    Arciel lightly tapped a fan against her chin as she turned her eyes to the ground far beneath her feet. She was positioned between two of the massive floating fortresses, in the midst of moving from one to another via the means of a magical platform. It may as well have been a flying carpet. It was a perfectly square tile, large enough to fit the prisoners, their guide, the guards, and maybe another thirty people.


    So far, the tour had proven productive. They spent the whole afternoon walking around the premises, going from ship to ship and checking out the facilities therein. They hadn¡¯t been granted permission to visit the bridge, but they were scheduled to meet the new marquis at the end of the day. Apparently, they would have a chance to speak over dinner.


    As their requests to see many of the other more important facilities had also been denied, their adventure had effectively been at the cervitaur¡¯s behest. He led them from place to place and illustrated the ridiculous scale at which the armada was conceived. And oh so truly ridiculous it was. They had everything from casinos and luxury resorts to sporting facilities and organic farms; the flying city offered the soldiers on board anything their hearts could have possibly desired.


    ¡°This next facility will be the last we visit before dinner tonight.¡±


    The warden spoke as he disembarked from the floating platform. Their destination featured none of the manors or castles present everywhere else. Its main feature was a large stadium that covered most of the island¡¯s surface area. The little space that remained was turned into something of a garden, the flowers in which served as embellishment for the arena¡¯s exterior.


    ¡°Though this may not be obvious from the outside, The Pit, as we call it, is a cutting-edge colosseum constructed with all of the latest technologies in mind,¡± said the guide.


    ¡°What manner of technologies?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°Most of them are centred around small-scale terraforming,¡± said Balbus. ¡°You will see momentarily.¡±


    He led them through the foyer. Its design was impressive but not particularly outstanding; it looked almost identical to the colosseum that the previous Pollux had built in Vel¡¯khagan. The only notable difference was that there were no seats at ground level. The closest ones were still a few meters up, likely to make room for the giant mechanical arms that sat by the arena¡¯s edge.


    ¡°Seems pretty well made, but I ain¡¯t seeing how it¡¯s supposed to be cutting edge,¡± said Ace. ¡°Those artifacts supposed to be for cleaning or something?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly.¡±


    The warden smiled as he produced a device from his robe. Its circular shape and dial-based interface were reminiscent of that of a pocket watch. The edges were lined with a series of codenames¡ªletter-number pairs impossible to interpret at a glance. The man began turning the spinner at the object¡¯s center, a loud click accompanying each degree of movement. He pressed down on the center while he was done and initiated a surge of magic.


    The arms buzzed to life. They rose into the air at fixed intervals and formed a massive barrier around the ring. They shifted gears once the barrier was complete and projected a series of illusion-based spells. Layer by layer, the once-empty arena was transformed into a jungle with a dense layer of moist soil at its base and even trees and animals skittering around within.


    ¡°This installation unfortunately does not have any ley lines to fuel it, so it can only perform basic transformations, but the device allows us to adapt the environment to better suit the fighters in question.¡± He pressed the button as the audience shared its impressions and turned the jungle into a desert, a field, and even a patch of sea. ¡°But while all of these are certainly interesting and impressive, it is not them that I would like for you to see.¡±


    With one final click, he changed the landscape again, a large town square with a wooden platform in the centre and a series of shops all around it.


    ¡°And what, precisely, is this?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°Well...¡± A dark smile crossed the warden¡¯s lips. ¡°These are your execution grounds. We will be returning here tonight after you¡¯ve had your meeting with our¡­ lord,¡± he said, matter-of-factly. ¡°So that the men might watch as you are all beheaded.¡±

 Chapter 361 - The Stifled Sword V

    Chapter 361 - The Stifled Sword V


    109833 - 3 - 3 - 9


    Dear Diary,


    Today I hit level 100! Lina hasn¡¯t levelled much because the bandits we¡¯ve been fighting lately have been kinda weak, so I¡¯ve been mopping them all up by myself.


    Master says that I have a knack for hunting them down and that I should make that my job if I ever need money, but I don¡¯t really know what he means. I didn¡¯t do anything special. Their hideout was just super obvious. It was literally a big fort on the side of the road!


    Ms. Olga says we¡¯re gonna celebrate as soon as we manage to get to a big town. Apparently there used to be more big towns around, but the queen that took over a while ago is super greedy and annoying. I didn¡¯t get to hear the rest because she started swearing and Lina covered my ears.


    Lia


    ___


    A somewhat annoyed Sylvia begrudgingly climbed the stairs and entered the room where Claire was sound asleep. Sighing audibly, she closed the door behind her, approached the bed, and lightly pressed her paws against the qiligon¡¯s face. She shook her as she always did, but while Claire usually sprang up as soon as she was touched, she remained entirely unresponsive.


    Thinking nothing of the circumstance, Sylvia shook the lyrkress again. But again, she refused to rise.


    She was almost tempted to think that it was a prank. It wouldn¡¯t have been the first time that Claire had pulled something similar, but if that were the case, she would have already sprung the trap and found herself captured between the moose''s arms.


    She didn''t notice anything that seemed off until she thought to examine the lyrkress¡¯ status, at which point she found her missing half her health. It was still going down. Large chunks vanished at a time, only for the total to rapidly recover at random; it was going from near empty to full in a matter of seconds, like it often would when she used her drain. It still wasn''t quite as fast as the rate that her countrymen showed, but it was high enough to catch Sylvia off guard; Claire was incapable of rapid regeneration with no target at hand.


    What concerned her more than the healing was the damage inflicted. It was almost like she was being struck, rapidly, but her body showed no signs of harm. The symptoms seemed to suggest that it was a status ailment, but with nothing showing up on the panel, Sylvia could only conclude that the lyrkress was cursed.


    That did not come as much of a surprise in and of itself. While the god of curses was certainly most skilled at their infliction and removal, he was not the only one with the associated power. Just as anyone could still block out a time slot in their agenda, anyone could cast a curse. It was more a question of when and how. Sylvia had been by her side from start to finish. She had watched over her to ensure nothing went wrong, and she hadn¡¯t sensed any curses.


    The half-elf poured her mana into the snake-moose¡¯s body and performed a much deeper scan. But again, she found nothing. Sylvia was left to tilt her head as she stared blankly at the null reference.


    ¡°Get on with it already,¡± grumbled Panda, from the other side of the doorway. ¡°What the hell are you waiting for?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m trying, but she¡¯s not waking up,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And her HP is bouncing all over the place. I¡¯m not really sure what¡¯s going on.¡±


    ¡°Let me have a look,¡± said Krail. He placed a hand on the knob, but the door refused to budge.


    ¡°Nuh-uh, no way!¡± cried the fox. ¡°She¡¯s basically naked right now and the sheets are only covering her face.¡±


    ¡°Then move them!¡± shouted Panda.


    ¡°That¡¯s not gonna help! She turned back into a longmoose, so she¡¯s way too big. And plus, I¡¯m probably gonna be better at looking than any of you are anyway!¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t you just make a new set instead?¡± suggested Krail. ¡°The same way you made this building.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah¡­ good idea,¡± said the fox. ¡°One sec.¡± She clapped her paws together and made a massive blanket. She started with one that was perfectly Claire-sized and draped it right over her body, but she changed her mind after taking a second look. She herself wasn¡¯t particularly bothered by the resulting silhouette, but she could have easily seen her great-grandfather getting off on the outline, so she transformed it into a sheet that covered the entire room. ¡°Okay! You can come in now.¡±


    The others streamed into the bedroom in single file, curious looks written upon their faces. It was the blanket¡¯s fault; the massive woolly carpet was three centimeters thick and covered in illustrations of fish. It spanned the entire space, capturing everything from the drawers to the desk to the massive moose.


    Claire wasn¡¯t helping. One of the thickest parts of her tail lay by the door, and it was wide enough that it was difficult to step over. Only Krail and his longer legs could make the jump without contact, and the death glare on Sylvia¡¯s face suggested that it was best avoided. It was thanks to the resulting pressure that Panda silently begged the elf to lift him, while Lana remained standing on the other side. Only Boris and Starrgort ignored it, with the former using his mistress as a ladder to climb onto the bed and the latter assuming his usual place on the shelf.


    ¡°Anyway, uhmmm, I don¡¯t really know what¡¯s wrong with her, but she¡¯s randomly taking damage and not waking up.¡± She gave the lyrkress another shake, but it was to no avail. Claire refused to stir.


    Krail plodded over to the bed and grabbed the sheets, but he was cut short by a glare.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Examining her,¡± said the older elf. ¡°Before you ask, I¡¯m not a doctor, but I figure I could do a bit of a preliminary check at least.¡±


    The fox nodded, but remained on her guard. She continuously scanned his mind as he held his hand in front of her face and otherwise touched her body. They still hadn¡¯t identified the informant, and the last thing she wanted was for someone to attack Claire while she was still down.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I see the proble¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid. She¡¯s not dead,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°She doesn¡¯t need to breathe, and she¡¯s always supposed to be that cold.¡±


    ¡°You sure?¡± he said, with his brow raised.


    ¡°Mhm,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Her heart¡¯s still beating and I can see her HP. It¡¯s still being weird, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Alright, well I¡¯m pretty much out of ideas then.¡± The elf prodded her with his staff, but she refused to stir.


    ¡°I have an idea,¡± said Lana. ¡°Water.¡±


    ¡°One sec.¡± Sylvia crafted an illusory bucket in the air and dumped it over her pet. There was enough liquid in the container to half flood the room and send a torrent downstairs, but the results were moot.


    ¡°We could hit her,¡± suggested Panda. ¡°A light slap or two has always worked. I mean, not exactly a fair trade there but we aren¡¯t exactly in a position to negotiate.¡±


    ¡°Mmnnn¡­ Let¡¯s see.¡± Sylvia lightly smacked Claire in the chin with her tail. The continuous attacks whipped the lyrkress¡¯ head back and forth. ¡°Nope.¡±


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Well shit,¡± muttered Panda. ¡°It¡¯s starting to sound like we¡¯ll have to go without her.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess so.¡± Sylvia tapped a paw against her chin. ¡°Wait for me outside. We can go after I do some stuff to make sure she¡¯s gonna be safe.¡± She wasn¡¯t exactly fond of the idea. Even if Claire had given her the go-ahead, she still wanted to wait for her to wake up before seeing things through. She had the feeling that the lyrkress was hoping for a rematch with the Pollux at least, and it wouldn¡¯t quite be the same if she captured the man and allowed them to fight under her conditions.


    ¡°You better be quick,¡± said Panda. ¡°Time¡¯s wasting and we haven¡¯t got long to begin with. Maybe a few hours at most.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯ll only take a few minutes.¡±


    She shooed everyone out of the room and started to sing, casting a series of barriers around the upper level that shrouded it in a perfect defence. She pumped several layers of spells on top, namely autonomous drones to detect everything but vector magic. Once she was sure that all sound and sight were cut off, she applied a regeneration buff to her favourite person, shrank her into a tiny bubble, and hid her in her tail.


    The pocket dimension was the safest space she had¡ªa place that would remain perfectly protected except from those well-versed in their vectors. Everything else had only been for show¡ªshe had even artificially dragged out the process to feign a much lower cast speed.


    She teleported out of the barrier once she was done, appearing behind it so she would not be spotted. Another few steps later, and she was on top of the circle, waving as she scrutinized the crowd for a possible traitor. Much to her dismay, no one really stood out, but she slid down the massive shield regardless and planted her feet before the observers.


    ¡°Mkay, I¡¯m done,¡± she said.


    ¡°You¡¯re way more than done,¡± muttered Panda, as he rapped his non-broken paw against the barrier. ¡°This thing¡¯s solid enough to eat an attack from an aspect.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, I dunno,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°So uhmmm¡­ are we just gonna head there right away, or what?¡± She took another look at the raccoon before finally healing his wounds. It wasn¡¯t that she had forgotten, but rather that she hadn¡¯t exactly cared for his well-being.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± he said, with a grunt. ¡°We¡¯ll have to head straight over unless anyone has objections.¡±


    ¡°You never gave us an explanation, and we never settled on a plan,¡± said Krail. ¡°It¡¯d probably be best to do that first.¡±


    ¡°Right, we were supposed to wait for the girl.¡± The raccoon scratched the back of his head. ¡°So the long and short of it is that your buddies are about to get executed because Porcius is a fucking dumbass. Piece of shit couldn¡¯t tell profit from loss if you hit him in the face with a bag of gold. You¡¯re pretty much going to need to bail them out as quick as you can.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all fine and dandy,¡± said Krail, ¡°but I doubt we can help you with much outside of working out a route. If it wasn¡¯t obvious enough from the way we just got our asses handed to us, we¡¯re too weak, even to serve as a distraction.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Panda sighed. ¡°The fox is the only one that¡¯s got anything going for her, and they¡¯ll be on the lookout now that they know what she can do.¡±


    ¡°Mmnnn, I can probably fix that,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯m a bard, so I¡¯ll just sing a bit and give you some buffs and stuff.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how much that¡¯ll help,¡± said Krail. ¡°Unless your buffs can triple all our stats, I doubt we¡¯d stand a chance.¡±


    ¡°I think I have one that¡¯ll probably do the trick,¡± said Sylvia, ¡°but it¡¯s got a few drawbacks.¡±


    ¡°What kind of drawbacks?¡±


    ¡°Well, I kinda can¡¯t really choose the stat it affects. It¡¯s totally random and lasts for a solid few hours. I kinda can¡¯t really change what you end up getting until it wears off either.¡±


    ¡°Do you have anything else?¡± he asked, with a grimace.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got one that¡¯s like ten times stronger but changes the stat it affects once every two seconds.¡±


    Krail groaned. ¡°I know the exact song you¡¯re talking about, but I don¡¯t know anyone that¡¯s ever put it to good use. You¡¯d have to be clinically insane.¡±


    ¡°Claire seemed to be pretty okay with it when I tried it on her.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re only proving my point,¡± muttered the elf. ¡°Anyway, we¡¯ll probably be able to take part if we end up with something decent.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± said Panda. ¡°We¡¯re going to need all the manpower we can get if we want to get them out safely,¡± he paused briefly. ¡°How big is the area on that buff of yours. You think you can nail all our allies?¡±


    ¡°Probably,¡± said Sylvia. "It''ll be applied to everyone that hears it, and I can make them hear me no matter what.¡±


    ¡°You do have the more traditional stuff too, right? Think you can ask everyone what they want and give the grubby little bastards whatever they choose?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. That''d be pretty easy.¡±


    ¡°Alright, in that case¡­¡± He tapped a foot against the ground whilst running through his thoughts again. ¡°I might just have a plan.¡±


    ___


    Arciel lightly tapped her fan against her chin as she followed the discoloured moose. He was leading them to the dining hall back on the fleet¡¯s mothership so they could enjoy their final meal. The atmosphere was tense; her allies had their faces scrunched up in thought as they stealthily tested their restraints and evaluated their conditions. Everyone was looking for an out.


    As the scenario was presented, it seemed like death was imminent. Sylvia likely could have bailed them out if she was aware, as she had when they were on the verge of losing the battle, but Arciel had no way of relaying the situation. They had to bank on her checking in, but that was unlikely given the time remaining.


    They needed to figure a way out of the situation themselves and put it into action as quickly as they could. Possible solutions raced through her mind as she entered the lord¡¯s guest room; her brain was too preoccupied with working through her options to spare the fancy decorations a second glance. As much as she didn¡¯t want to admit it, it looked like they had reached an impasse. The Cadrians could overpower them in a straight encounter even without their restraints and lack of weaponry. She was confident she could escape by herself if it really came down to the wire¡ªshe could avoid physical attacks by jumping from shadow to shadow, and it wouldn¡¯t be too difficult to shake them off her tail¡ªbut running away by her lonesome was only her last resort. She didn¡¯t want to be the only one to escape.


    ¡°We¡¯ve arrived,¡± said the warden. He knew what they were thinking. He showed them into the dining room with a grin as wide as the sea. ¡°Please do be quick. The men are itching to see your executions.¡± Chuckling to himself, he closed the door behind them, his eyes shining through the gap until it was closed completely.


    Ciel took a breath, her mind still working as she scanned the dining chamber. There were a few vulnerabilities, such as the glass windows and the door that led into a courtyard garden, but none of them were faulty enough to draw her eyes for long. Her gaze eventually wandered to the lord, who was already seated at the table and awaiting their arrival.


    She had expected him to share the carnivorous gaze his servant had worn, but all she got from him was boredom. He was sitting at the table with a hand propping up his chin and not a single hint of dignity anywhere to be seen. Even the way he raised his gaze was slobby; he clearly had no interest in engaging them in conversation. She had known that he was a replacement, and Panda¡¯s documents had confirmed that he was far from celebrated, but she hadn¡¯t understood the reality until she saw it for herself.


    Not even his servants seemed to respect him. He hadn¡¯t been served a drink even though he had been waiting for long enough that his face revealed a mark when he lazily removed his hand.


    ¡°You¡¯re here,¡± he said, with a bored grunt.


    ¡°Good evening,¡± said Arciel. She performed the sort of bow that one would expect from a lady in a gentleman¡¯s shirt. ¡°It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Arci¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother with the bullshit.¡± The fresh marquis waved his hand dismissively. ¡°I know you don¡¯t want to be here, and honestly, neither do I. How about we get the food out of the kitchen, into our bellies, and go our separate ways, yeah?¡±


    Arciel frowned. ¡°You are aware of what that entails for us?¡±


    ¡°Execution? Yeah, I mean what else do you expect?¡± he said, with a lazy grunt. ¡°Someone on your side completely annihilated one of our cities. There were basically no survivors. Course the boys are thirsting for blood.¡±


    ¡°What then of your pride as Cadrians? Would you not be condemned for intervening and preventing the battle that we have agreed upon?¡±


    Porcius shrugged. ¡°Honestly, yeah. This stunt is probably going to get me in some pretty deep shit.¡± The man gave the witch a long, proper look. ¡°But at the very least, I doubt I¡¯ll be coming out of this any worse than you.¡±


    ¡°I suppose not.¡± Arciel lowered her gaze and took a breath before returning it. ¡°It appears that we remain incapable of negotiating our release.¡±


    ¡°Pretty much.¡±


    ¡°Will you not allow us some time to prepare ourselves at least? If I am to be executed, I would prefer to look my best, so that I maintain my dignity as Queen of Vel¡¯khan.¡±


    The deer took a few seconds to scratch the case of his antlers. ¡°I dunno.¡±


    ¡°It shall provide greater leverage when you negotiate with your king to attest that we were well treated.¡±


    Another brief pause.


    ¡°Eh, what the hell. Sure, why the fuck not? Take your time. At the end of the day, nothing¡¯s gonna change.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. I appreciate your leniency and understanding.¡±


    The witch feigned a smile and took a seat.


    Stalling was the best that she could do.

 Chapter 362 - The Stifled Sword VI

    Chapter 362 - The Stifled Sword VI


    Crimson stains covered the mountain. Everything from the snow to the trees to the distant moon was painted in a bloody red. Splatter after splatter, the roses continued to blossom, coating the canvas in a blanket of death. There was enough paint used to empty her body a hundred times over.


    And yet, she continued to strike. Her fangs, her claws, her shard, her tail, her horn. She used everything at her disposal, lashing out at the enemy with whatever she happened to have, whatever was yet to be lost.


    Back and forth went the exchange. She attacked and blocked and dodged and weaved with an almost trance-like fervour. She was barely focused.


    But she proceeded regardless.


    There had to be something at the end of the tunnel.


    And she was beginning to see its shape.


    ___


    Dinnertime came and went in the blink of an eye. The captives were transported out of the dining hall and returned to their cell in no more than an hour. For a supposed last meal, it was hardly extravagant, though that was largely the fault of the servants¡¯ distaste for their lord. They had been served a series of sandwiches made of cheap bread and stuffed with whatever was left in the kitchen.


    The drinks were just as bland, and it wasn¡¯t just the impending doom that had dulled the flavour. The bottles were remarkably low quality, and even then, the servants had been reluctant to open them. It didn¡¯t matter in either case. Even if it wasn¡¯t the best, the food and drink served as nourishment for the battle ahead.


    ¡°Have you any suggestions?¡±


    She asked the question as the prison door was shut and sealed, scanning the faces of those around her. Their shackles were already removed. The cervitaur had removed them as each member was marched into the room.


    ¡°Warden didn''t seem all that strong,¡± said Ace. ¡°I say we kill his ass, you know, just to get him back before he sends us to hang.¡±


    ¡°I was referring to seeking a means of escape.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Ace frowned. ¡°Yeah, I''m pretty sure we''re just shit out of luck. Best we can do is leave a few coded messages for our buddies and let ¡®em know what we''ve learned.¡±


    ¡°That''s small fry talk,¡± said Jules. ¡°What happened to all your usual pep, lizard?¡±


    ¡°Just being realistic,¡± said Ace. ¡°No point pressing the issue if it ain''t going to produce results.¡±


    ¡°Man, and that''s exactly what the fuck I meant when I said you were making small-fry talk.¡±


    ¡°Well, you got any great ideas then, genius?¡±


    ¡°A few,¡± said Jules. ¡°I''ll spell it out for you since you''re apparently too fucking dumb to see it. It''s simple. We just need to distract them with something big and make a break for it before they can get their shit back together.¡±


    ¡°And what precisely do you wish to propose, for our means of distraction?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°Well you see, while you incompetent fucks were touring the ship and admiring all the trash on board, I was making note of all the places they were steering us away from.¡± A confident grin crossed his lips. ¡°I can¡¯t exactly hit any of the other ships, since they¡¯ll probably throw up their barriers the moment they sense an attack, but I can take this one down pretty easily.¡±


    ¡°I do not believe that it alone shall suffice,¡± said Arciel. ¡°They bear such little respect for the marquis that they would prioritize our capture over the confirmation of his safety.¡±


    ¡°Well, yeah, but that¡¯s just the half of it. I figure I could crash the damn thing into the one beside it and take that one down too. The bastards won¡¯t be able to keep themselves from investigating.¡±


    ¡°The outcome is unlikely to change, lest we crash them all at once.¡±


    Jules clicked his tongue. ¡°Alright, fine. Then we use this ship¡¯s cannons¡ª¡±


    ¡°Gonna stop you there, mate,¡± said Ace. ¡°Think the guy said those used magic. They ain¡¯t gonna be working once you blow up the engines.¡±


    ¡°Right. Forgot about that,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°We might be able to sneak off if he was lying about the detectors,¡± said Matthias. ¡°We could get away pretty easily with my cloak if it turns out that this is the only ship that has one.¡±


    ¡°You fucking stupid, or what?¡± said Jules. ¡°Our bard¡¯s not here. There¡¯s no fucking way we¡¯ll all fit.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± muttered the mantis.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure we all have to get away,¡± said Chloe. ¡°I don¡¯t mind staying behind.¡±


    ¡°I would much rather if you did not,¡± said Arciel.


    The maid smiled. ¡°And I¡¯m happy you feel that way, but if someone has to, then I¡¯m probably the best choice. I can probably convince the guards to avoid killing me, at least.¡±


    Arciel frowned, but said nothing more.


    ¡°Settling for half wins now, are we? Well, in that case, I¡¯d say the warriors could probably get away easy, if magic is what they¡¯re monitoring,¡± said Jules. ¡°They don¡¯t have too much more than an average critter, and it¡¯s not like their HQ¡¯s figured out a way to relay orders in real-time. All they¡¯d need to do is change directions a few times.¡±


    ¡°I am afraid to inform you that even a lower-level tracking skill is assured to invalidate such a plan,¡± said Arciel. ¡°They will be caught before they are able to beseech the others for aid.¡±


    ¡°Damn, didn¡¯t even think of that,¡± grumbled the clam.


    There was a moment of silence as the members mulled over their ideas.


    ¡°I see that we have arrived at an impasse,¡± said the squid. She placed her hat on the desk and fell into one of the lounge¡¯s chairs. ¡°I shall endeavour to think of an alternative in the little time we have remaining.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I dunno,¡± said Jules. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure our best bet is to act, you know, before the guards get here?¡±


    ¡°A fair point, but Sylvia is more likely to appear should we stall for longer.¡±


    ¡°So a game of chicken then,¡± said Jules.


    ¡°Y¡¯know, if stalling¡¯s the goal, I think I¡¯ve got something in mind,¡± said Ace.


    ¡°Let us hear it then.¡±


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    ¡°Right, so these ships have got barriers, right? Real tough ones. All we¡¯ve gotta do is use that to our advantage,¡± he said. ¡°If we can capture this ship, maybe by distracting their boss or whatever, we could probably throw up the shield and buy ourselves a bit of time.¡±


    ¡°Not a bad plan, for an idiot. But what are we going to do about, you know, everyone else that¡¯ll try to stop us, genius?¡± asked Jules.


    ¡°Dunno.¡± The lizard shrugged. ¡°Fight ¡®em head-on, maybe?¡±


    ¡°If we¡¯re lucky, this ship¡¯s people will be the only ones we have to deal with,¡± said Chloe. ¡°Which means a bunch of warriors and the two high-level guys.¡±


    ¡°The marquis and his aide,¡± said Matthias.


    ¡°I believe our issue stems then from the use of the ship¡¯s controls,¡± said Ciel. ¡°Claire is not present. We have not any individuals familiar with the use of Cadrian artifacts.¡±


    ¡°Right, nearly forgot about that,¡± said Ace.


    Chloe slowly raised her hand. ¡°I might be able to pull it off,¡± she said. ¡°I snuck on board that one guy¡¯s ship a few times while it was docked at the castle and played with some of the controls. I know how their lifts work, at least. It was surprisingly intuitive.¡±


    ¡°I do not see any further issues then,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Aside from the need to hold off their fighters.¡±


    ¡°Better than not having any hope at all,¡± muttered Ace. ¡°I¡¯ll work on scribbling up some messages in the meantime and maybe scattering them around. You know, just in case.¡±


    ¡°Very well. Let us commit ourselves to waiting then and fall back on Ace¡¯s plan in the worst case.¡±


    ¡°Just to make sure. You really think that Sylvia¡¯s going to be able to do something about this?¡± asked the clam. ¡°Why the hell didn¡¯t she just murder them all in the first place if she¡¯s really that strong?¡±


    ¡°There is little need to call her power into question. It is why not all of us were captured. As for her restraint, I believe the answer lies in matters of pride.¡± Arciel vanished into a shadow, appearing again beside the sealed weapons rack. She grabbed all of their stuff and placed it on the table after momentarily sinking into the darkness again. ¡°Let us prepare for the worst-case scenario whilst hoping for the best.¡±


    ¡°Not like we have any other choice,¡± said Ace. He grabbed his swords and equipped their holsters, throwing them over his clothes without bothering to change into his previous outfit.


    The others quickly did the same. The mages grabbed their magical rods, and Chloe retreated into a room to finesse her literal belts of daggers and needles back into the folds of her dress. It was a task that would have taken half a second under the usual circumstances, but she had explicitly left them out of her earlier reorganization. Now that she no longer had to weaponize her frying pan, she could return everything to its proper order.


    And so they waited.


    But Sylvia never showed.


    It was the warden that eventually knocked on their door instead, roughly half an hour later with his security detail in tow.


    Jules took up his wand without a word and pointed it straight at the entrance. He unleashed a spell as soon as it opened and tore a hole in the cervitaur¡¯s body. Another seventeen followed, completely deleting him from existence before he could fathom a reaction. He wasn¡¯t a warrior type, but he wouldn¡¯t have been able to regenerate even in the case that he was. His head was missing, blown to a mist of bloody giblets charred to the point of disintegration.


    The guards stepped forward, but the clam¡¯s blue magic melted their limbs to goop before they could block off the hall.


    ¡°You assholes go on ahead,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll catch up in a bit.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Jules,¡± said Arciel, as she melted into the shadows.


    ¡°Don¡¯t fucking thank me. Just keep running, you dumb twat.¡±


    ¡°You ain¡¯t winning this one alone,¡± said Ace. ¡°I¡¯ll sta¡ª¡±


    ¡°Motherfucker, are you deaf? Or just stupid? I told you to leave. The faster you take out the marquis, the faster this place is secured.¡±


    The lizardman tightened his grip on his sword. ¡°Alright.¡±


    Squeezing the handle again, he joined the others in sprinting down the hall. Jules waited for them to turn the corner and dash up the stairs before turning his attention back to the guards. Most of them were small fry. Like the warden, they were powerful enough to be considered elites in another nation¡¯s standing army. And that was judging from their levels alone.


    Though far weaker than their higher-level counterparts, they still made a bid to regenerate and regrow the limbs that he had taken away. They healed rapidly, but he took off their heads before their bodies could be fully repaired.


    The mana he expended returned to him immediately. He spent no time pouring the points into his wisdom, further bolstering his magic for the encounter ahead.


    Only one enemy remained, standing undamaged among the corpses of his men. Jules¡¯ spells had struck him directly, but their effects were ultimately negated by the crystalline armour that adorned his bizarre frame. He was the opposite of a centaur, with a mostly human body topped with a horse¡¯s head. His mane was cut shorter than usual and spiked up to form a mohawk, The hair itself was a light blonde only highlighted by the dark yellow fur that masked his equine face.


    No words were exchanged between them.


    Both men silently raised their weapons and stared the other down.


    The horse looked the part of a traditional knight. He had a tower shield in one hand and a spiked flail in the other, with neither piece made of the material that adorned his body. His protector¡¯s material was not immediately clear. He could see that it was covered in dark brown leather, likely the hide of some beast or other, with bolts to secure it to an unknown base. His weapon, while just as mysterious, left a much stronger impression. The whole thing was made of bone. The handle looked the part of a femur, the links pulled from a spinal column, and the spiked tip a large humanoid skull with thick, bent nails hammered all the way through.


    The head had a vaguely human shape, but its size was too large and its teeth were too jagged. Its spikes were of a rather simple design, but they were far more alarming. The rusted iron glowed with a faint green light¡ªa trace of magic whose nature was completely unlike that of the wielder.


    It was clearly cursed. He couldn¡¯t decipher its precise effects, but any wounds that the weapon created would surely take an eternity to heal. If they could be healed at all.


    Still, Jules remained unflinching.


    The hall was not by any means narrow. Even in the prison ward, it was wide enough for four large centaurs to walk shoulder to shoulder unhindered. But it was confined enough for his spells to do their work.


    Most true mages needed to chant in order to invoke their magic, but Jules was of an unusual sort. He only needed to activate the shortcuts wired into the back of his mind. And yet, he spoke the keywords regardless.


    While generally frowned upon when placed in a one-on-one, it was not as if chanting was entirely detrimental. Jules¡¯ nodes only acted as shorthands, allowing him to weave his spells with greater speed and overall efficiency. They did not at all account for the extra effects that one could draw by extending the casting duration.


    Red magic typically only required two verses to manifest an explosion; linking nodes one and four sufficed to draw out the heat-based effect. A third verse, node twelve, was all he required to expand the range and paint an area red. The other modifiers were similar. Node ten allowed him to increase the air intake and bolster the force of the explosion. Node seventeen added shrapnel to his blasts, and node twenty-two would carve the spell onto an item in the form of a one-time enchantment.


    They were all effects that he used fairly frequently. That was why he had used his synergist class to shorten the process to begin with. But because they were produced so far in advance, the shortcuts were entirely inflexible. To modify his spells to precisely suit the task at hand, he would need to do as other mages did and actively chant the verses aloud.


    He wasn¡¯t the fastest chanter. Perhaps noting that, the warrior was in no rush to close the gap. He moved almost lethargically and lazily swung his flail at Jules¡¯ face, but the mage was unbothered. He linked two nodes in the back of his mind and unleashed a completely different spell¡ªa concussive blast that knocked them both back¡ªwhilst continuing to chant. He was thrown right into a wall, but not even that sufficed to interrupt his words or rob him of his breath.


    The warrior was not quite as affected. He landed right side up and jumped right back into action. Perhaps sensing that something was wrong from the sheer amount of mana gathered, he broke into a dash ten times his previous speed. But it was already too late. The caster was done. He had only needed seven verses to construct his spell. And all of them had echoed through his enemy¡¯s ears.


    He wasn¡¯t enough of a fool to speak his spell¡¯s name aloud, especially after his opponent had handed him an advantage, so he only said it inside his head.


    It was his primary class¡¯ ars magna, Cry of the Cardinal Chain, or at least a modified version thereof. Most obvious was the change to the payload¡¯s size. The sphere had its radius tripled so that the force of the reaction could be heavily bolstered. If simply allowed to explode, the mana-rich spell would have consumed the entire ship, but the extra verses constrained its area so its width and height matched that of the hall.


    Only the length was left unbound. The detonation blasted out both ends of the castle, punching several holes in the rocks through which the winds suddenly began to blow.


    The sheer force of the explosion knocked both fighters away, sending them tumbling through the tunnels and into the sky. The reverse-centaur wasn¡¯t quite dead, and Jules hadn¡¯t the liberty to finish him off, but it was all according to plan.


    He had not only locked the elite out of his allies¡¯ battles but also escaped the ship alone. Despite being a mage with a target painted across his back.


    If the other Cadrians went after anyone, it would no doubt be him.

 Chapter 363 - The Stifled Sword VII

    Chapter 363 - The Stifled Sword VII


    109833 - 3 - 4 - 2


    Dear Diary,


    We finally made it into a big city. Ms. Olga said its name is Vel¡¯irrin. All the cities in this country have Vel at the start of their names. Apparently, it¡¯s supposed to mean moon blessed in the local tongue, but no one actually speaks it anymore so she doesn¡¯t really know for sure.


    Oh, and apparently Ms. Olga is super important. People ran out to see her as soon as we got in the city, and they took us to this super big building with lots of expensive stuff inside. Ms. Olga said it was one of her three shops. She wants to add more, but she can¡¯t because the queen is a greedy jerk. Lina says that Ms. Olga only says that because she¡¯s a merchant though.


    Dinner was really fancy today. Ms. Olga said that it was also really expensive, and that apparently the fish we ate cost as much as my house. I got really scared when she said that, but she said it was okay.


    Her house is really comfy too. This is the biggest bed that Lina and I have ever slept in.


    Lia.


    ___


    The sky was turning red. Inch by inch, the sun sank beneath the horizon, leaving a chilly breeze that marked the nearing of fall. The clouds were sparse, with so few of them decorating the heavens that the castles were clear to see. Even from beneath the treeline, Sylvia could track them with ease, watching each as it headed north and slowly evacuated the nation.


    Their enemies were yet unaware of her presence. She followed from fifty kilometers away, moving at the same pace as the castles that dotted the sky. Her excuse to the others was that she was exercising caution, but it really just stemmed from her lack of decisiveness.


    Even confronted with the set, she couldn¡¯t decide on the best course of action. She wanted to wait for Claire, even as Panda went from concerned to panicked to annoyed beyond belief. Despite visibly fuming, he kept his mouth shut, perhaps trusting that she was not simply truly waiting around. Alas, he was mistaken. She only continued to stare, thinking through an endless cycle of what-ifs as she plodded her way north.


    She didn¡¯t commit to intervention until the first surge of magic swallowed the ship that everyone was aboard. She was a little too far away to see the light of the explosion. Its crimson shade blended in with the evening sky, but the rest of her body experienced it in full. The shockwave violently shook her body, loosening much of the shed fur hidden within her coat. It was so loud that she had to shut her ears in a bubble just to mute the deafening roar.


    The battle was beginning and her allies were sure to lose. There was no longer a choice for her to do anything but step in. Such was reality at work.


    A reluctant frown crossed her lips as she propelled herself across the forested terrain. She didn¡¯t say a word to any of the others, nor did she bother to bolster their speed. Krail was right. There was no point in their inclusion. Her buffs would certainly help them, but to extend such a generous hand would be no different from direct intervention. That was why she had lied to begin with. It was a bid to discourage them, albeit one that had only ended in failure.


    She cleared a kilometer every two seconds. She didn¡¯t zig around the trees or zag past the wildlife, opting instead to phase through it with her body on a different plane. Just one minute later, and she was in range of their detectors¡ªin range to see the clam that had fallen from the sky.


    Sylvia thought very little of him. He was rude, and she didn¡¯t like the way he always tried to hide his intentions, but she decided to lend him a bit of a paw regardless. With no chant or explicit action, she formed a three-layered magic circle and vaporized his opponent with an arcane bolt. She had half expected his armour to survive, given how tough the others had made it seem, but the crystal was as gone as the man it guarded. Everything touched by the spell was instantly turned to dust.


    The rest of the Cadrian army reacted almost immediately. Likely giving up on defence altogether, they immediately shifted into a reckless, all-out attack.


    Warriors of all shapes and sizes descended from the heavens in the blink of an eye. They poured from the walls like a torrent of arrows, propelled by their legs and wings. They cut through the air and aimed straight for the fox. Her straight-line movement was easy to predict. Many Cadrian fighters landed perfectly on target, only to join the trees and wildlife in phasing through her form.


    They hit the ground instead, often butting heads and turning each other to paste. Their slower aides came down shortly after and equipped them with their weapons and armour. They had all the same items that had accompanied them, during the ambush they had launched in town.


    But against the fox, it was all irrelevant.


    In the first place, they were only able to attack because she released their geises. There were still a few hours left until they left the country, and had they still been in place, her orders would have compelled them to depart if they showed defiance.


    Bards were unique among the caster types. Unlike traditional mages, who could speed up the rate at which their words were said, bards had to maintain a steady rhythm that a strike team could easily bypass. Sylvia, however, exposed no such weakness. Physical, magical, or artifact-based, nothing they tried had any effect at all. She could have easily ignored them but she was annoyed enough to deny their continued existence.


    The half-elf stood up on her hind legs. She pressed a hand to her chest, sucked in a deep breath, and slowly started to sing. Her voice permeated the air. It filled the ears of the unwilling each time she waved her magical baton.


    It started as the same sombre tone she sang when she crafted their fetters, but she gradually lowered her pitch and slowed her beat. The already gloomy notes turned darker and more depressing. The notes alone plagued the audience with a ceaseless trembling, while the melody robbed them of the will to live. But even that was just a brief introduction, a prelude to the encroaching death.


    If their opponents could really track their abilities and read their magical signatures, then she needed to ensure that the records were thoroughly destroyed. That was why she summoned the puppet her great-grandfather had crafted and invoked the ability linked to her fourth ascension. The ultimate skill that marked her as an aspect. The reason that she was labelled as the progenitor of nightmares.


    The class of its ability was rather unique for its rank. Most summoning spells could only call upon individuals that existed, and only with their explicit permission. That was why they were considered inferior. But Sylvia¡¯s allowed her to beseech the false gods born of her strangest dreams and unleash them upon the realm of the real.


    Alfred had only allotted her a single body. She could only summon one of the seventy-seven greater beings pulled from the outer edge of the world. But one was enough to fulfill her needs.


    She chose the most suitable among them. Yrild-ikurh, painter of hellscapes and desecrator of dreams, was incarnated in his purest form.


    He started as a single black stain upon the wooden mannequin, a faint splash of black dropped atop the center of its chest. But then he burst, tentacles crawling all over the figure with an eye at its center.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The flesh only continued to expand. Growing like roots, his limbs swallowed the puppet whole before planting themselves within the ground around him. He quickly took on a human-like shape, becoming an embryo floating in an invisible womb with his umbilical cord attached to the world itself.


    His eyes alone were already developed. The first ocular globe had vanished when his trunk grew from within it, but three more appeared in its place. One was on the frontal lobe of his head, one was on his shoulders, and the last was on his back, opposite the one he lost. Their bright white sclera stood to contrast his pitch-black flesh, and his piercing purple irises only highlighted his monochrome existence.


    Sylvia had no divinity to offer him. Her status screen still showed a line of faith. And yet, the false god¡¯s presence was heavy as the genuine article. The golden energy he radiated was undeniably divine; all those who looked upon his form had no choice but to accept him as one of the lords above for nothing if not the sheer terror he inspired.


    His body split open, revealing a giant, toothy mouth which loosed a feral scream. The sound forced the Cadrians to their knees. Even the strongest among them was compelled to submit, to acquiesce to his authority and express their whole-hearted devotion.


    Yrild-ikurh was the embodiment of compulsion and restraint. It was through those powers that he bent the world to his will, that he forced everything to look the way that it should through his all-seeing eyes. And that was why he was sided against all chaos incarnate. He was a fan of law and order. His laws. His orders.


    Everything, everything that he observed would be remade its rightful way, and the soldiers were no exception. He grabbed them each with the hands that extended from his open jaw and gazed upon their spirits with the pupils buried into his palms. And in doing so, judged them in violation of the natural order.


    One by one, he remade their forms. The first he changed was the rabbit afraid of the cold¡ªif the cottontail was to be an affront to his species, then he need not be of the same species at all.


    Yrild-ikurh removed his fur, turning him into a creature of molten skin with dozens of extra hands growing out from within his throat. The additional limbs were long, thin, and lined with eyes so he could fix even the smallest device. For the man, it was clearly a dream come true. He had always wished for more hands, more limbs with which he could perfect his artifacts like no other cottontail could.


    Next was the man with the heart of a boy, the free spirit who loved to run in the wind and chase the distant sun as much as he loved to serve his country. He was only half mature, and that was why he was given stubby legs and a stubbier spine. It only reached halfway down his body, leaving the rest fully paralyzed so he hadn¡¯t a choice but to drag himself forward on his tiny nubs. His brain was given the same treatment. One half was enlarged, while the other was shrunken, with the shape of his head warping to match.


    And then there was the priestess. She truly believed, from the depths of her heart, that she was the voice of a god. And so he made her just that. He transformed her into an extension of his body, making up an extra set of vocal cords that would enunciate his words in the language of the barbarian folk. The process involved tearing her body into a thousand strands. It looked like she was dead, but that couldn¡¯t have been further from the truth. For as long as she was within his system, her life would be eternal.


    So on and so forth, the transmutations bled throughout the crowd, with every member finding themselves with bodies adapted to reflect their greatest fears and their deepest desires. It was nirvana, true enlightenment the likes of which no mortal had ever achieved unaided. Having been remade in the image that the god impressed upon them, having been awakened to the truth within, they could only offer their prayer in thanks.


    It was not just the warriors present that were taken by his spell. He extended his hands to those within the sky, capturing all but the few aboard the capital ship.


    Everyone was fixed, bestowed their rightful forms. And yet, their violations had failed to reach their end. Even though he had fixed them, even though he had made them whole and true, they refused to indulge in their purposes. The artificer did not immediately set off to tinkering, the man-child refrained from following his heart, and the priestess did not speak his thoughts. A set of ridiculous circumstances that he reasonably met with rage.


    If they refused to make use of his gifts, if they refused to be who they truly were, then all that awaited was destruction.


    His aura meant nothing in the face of an enlightened mortal whose joy and identity were set on the line. They should have sprung forward. They should have shown him their purpose. But they had failed. In Yrild-ikurh¡¯s eyes, the only individuals deserving of dreams were those who would take every chance to grasp them. No one else was worthy, not of chasing dreams, nor of the resources they wasted.


    That was why he took their souls away.


    He ripped them straight out of their bodies. It was no basic soul rend. His process was seamless and without any of the resistance that a mortal spell would have certainly produced. It was like the souls had wanted to leave their bodies, like they wished for nothing more than to offer themselves to atone for their sins and violations. Acknowledging their goodwill, the god brought them to his chest and returned them to the flow.


    Had he been allowed autonomy, he certainly would have upped and left in search of more mortals to test, but the fifty-second outer god was as bound as the rest of his peers. So he had no choice but to enact his master¡¯s will.


    Raising just one of his hands, he crafted a singularity, a speck of perfect darkness that grew as it ingested everything in its immediate surroundings. The clouds were ripped from the sky. The trees were ripped from the earth. The stones and boulders were lifted like pebbles and dragged within the abyss. Even the plates that supported the continent were eager to answer his call, but he denied them with a shake of the head and saw their advances rejected. If not even the world could resist, then there was no way for the warships to put up a fight. Two motherships, four destroyers, six dreadnoughts, seven carriers, and thousands upon thousands of bodies. Everything within a ten-kilometer range, everything but the two exceptions where Sylvia¡¯s wards were bound, was sucked right into the hole and completely erased.


    There was no evidence remaining. Every single document, observation, and functional mind within the fleet had been swallowed without a trace. All of the stray evidence was gone, save for that which was atop the capital ship.


    Having done his duty, the deity faded. He abandoned his shell, returning his soul to his true body upon the final frontier. The puppet that he had possessed was not entirely broken, but it was cracked enough by the need to sustain him that Sylvia considered it expended. She teleported it back to Alfred¡¯s lair whilst waving her wand again.


    Sylvia breathed a sigh as she wiped a paw across her brow. It was covered in sweat. She wasn¡¯t quite out of breath, but she seated herself on the forest floor and gave her circuits a chance to cool. The process lasted for five seconds before she nearly jumped out of her skin.


    Panda appeared in the crater beside her, hands behind his back as he carefully examined their surroundings. It was like he had come out of nowhere, even though she had carefully kept watch.


    There were no portals to warp him. The many forces in their surroundings remained completely untouched, devoid of the violent turbulence that even the gods would leave in the wake of their movement. And yet, there he was, standing right in front of her without a care in the world.


    ¡°You killed the wrong goddamn ones,¡± he said, with a grunt. ¡°You were supposed to roast the fuckers on the goddamn mothership.¡±


    Sylvia shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ve already done my part.¡± She stood up on her hind legs and gave her back a stretch. ¡°The rest is up to the others.¡±


    ___


    Pain and darkness. The two feelings that enveloped her body slowly faded away as her vision was eventually restored. Light danced across her eyelids, one ray at a time as she became aware of her form again.


    She needed a few extra seconds to fully right her consciousness and draw her mind out of the sludge. There wasn''t much to her essence, but it took a while for her to put it all together. Its nature was too discombobulated, scattered across the many elements contained within. But with some difficulty, she extracted the few she wanted to see.


    It took nearly seven seconds for her eyes to fully adjust, for her to find herself aboard the familiar ship, standing just outside the door. The interior was entirely chaotic. Even the stone floors gave way beneath the pressure of the battle.


    Wordlessly, she opened the door and entered the foyer, her hands already twitching as she recalled the mission¡¯s parameters. It took a moment for her to scan the manor, to take in the structure and pinpoint the people within.


    It took her a moment to locate them all, to find the exact direction that she needed to go before breaking into a run.


    The halls were empty.


    The maids and butlers had already retreated, with some in the safety bunkers and others evacuated away into the city. The regular troops, specifically the ones off duty, were rushing towards the manor with their armour already equipped. But they would make no difference. They stood no chance of contributing with her mind already returned.


    It would only last an instant.


    Porcius was dead. His followers were dead. She would kill them all.

 Chapter 364 - The Stifled Sword VIII

    Chapter 364 - The Stifled Sword VIII


    Chloe kept a nervous eye on her surroundings as the party stormed the halls. There was minimal resistance. The few guards standing around the manor pushed back against the intruders, but they stood no chance with the strongest at only level four hundred. The brigade¡¯s combined might swept them off their feet. Few of the felled guards were slain. The party advanced with a focus on speed and efficiency, eliminating only those who insisted on getting in their way. They didn''t have time. They needed to seize the control room before they were overrun.


    Even if many of the centaurs were of a much lower level, killing them outright remained a burdensome task. The difficulty largely stemmed from their durability. They were likely to regenerate and form up ranks again if not slain in a single blow.


    It didn¡¯t help that they only half knew their destination. They had long determined that it was beneath them, residing within the giant crystal that served as the mothership¡¯s base, but that alone did not reveal the way forward. The Cadrians loved their convoluted pathways. The entrance to the military centre was no doubt past a number of random, hidden corridors, and none of them had the skills to snoop out its precise position. One could easily imagine then that violence was next on the list, but it was to no avail. There was a magical barrier beneath the prison floor. They might have been able to break through had they any power-focused individuals, but the group had no such members. The queen was the closest contender, and she couldn¡¯t even get it to crack.


    They would have had no choice but to scour the castle for its hidden pathways any earlier in the day, but Ciel had stalled for long enough. Griselda¡¯s rays cut through the clouds, gently illuminating the path her priestess was meant to take.


    It was hardly a perfect solution.


    The guiding light only shone where the windows were present, and it was often obscured by the clouds above. Still, they followed it, with Chloe taking up the rear to prevent any disabled centaurs from jumping back into pursuit.


    She threw a needle at one such antelope, nailing her between the eyes as soon as she kicked off the ground. It shot straight through her head, but the blade was too small to end her. Not even four centimetres in length, its apparent purpose was for the delicate repairs that she often performed on her mistress¡¯ clothing. Its lacklustre performance, however, was hardly a problem. Chloe backed it with another three identical projectiles, each drilling through the cervitaur¡¯s brain and emptying her mind.


    Four rounds of ammunition seemed like a substantial cost to waste on a fighter barely level two-sixty, but it was no skin off the demonic maid¡¯s back. Her needles were perfectly ordinary, the run-of-the-mill kind that one could find at any tailor¡¯s shop. And she had another thousand stashed away upon her person.


    She continued to follow the group as she racked up kills. They turned down a series of halls, climbed two flights of stairs, and went up a ladder hidden behind a private shower before finally arriving in a brightly lit room.


    Ace boarded up the door as soon as they were in. The bookcase would hardly serve as a deterrent against the warriors in pursuit, but it was extra padding for the already sturdy door. For once, the castle¡¯s construction worked in their favour; it was robust enough that they could easily defend their position.


    The rest of the group gathered around the moonlit patch in the meantime, with Matthias using his scythes to cut through the carpet and reveal the moose-sized trapdoor beneath it. It was clearly locked; there was a keyhole by the handle and it refused to budge when they pulled it. Matthias tried to stick his blades into the gaps between the door and its frame, but to no avail. They were pretty much airtight.


    ¡°Let me handle this.¡± Chloe pushed him aside, bent one of her needles, and quickly got to work. Being a maid and not a rogue, she wasn¡¯t the most proficient at circumventing locks, but she was aware of the necessary techniques.


    She prodded at the pins, lifting them one by one as she finessed the makeshift pick into each hole in turn. Eventually, it clicked open, almost surprisingly easily for a security system as important as it was. She didn¡¯t think too much of it until she opened the door and narrowly dodged the tip of a spear. There was a full hallway of guards gathered by the entrance, weapons extended, ready and waiting.


    Chloe was taken aback; she hadn¡¯t the slightest clue as to how she was meant to approach it, but her party members were not quite as green. Ace whipped the greatsword off his back and hurled it into the pit. He jumped in right after, taking advantage of the opening to establish a position within the crowd. In such close quarters, his swords fared better than their spears. Swinging the larger one in one hand and the smaller one in the other, he pushed back the defenders and invaded the subterranean hall.


    The maid tried to finish them off as she followed him down, but they regenerated too quickly, even with her mistress actively casting away. The problem was the way the soldiers ebbed and flowed. The front line retreated each time it was damaged, with men shepherding their allies to safety so they could take their places.


    That was when the door behind them finally burst open to reveal a group of soldiers with a battering ram in hand. They immediately dropped the massive metal spear and moved to encircle the intruders. The only gap in their formation led out the way they came. It was clearly bait; they were trying to funnel the prisoners in the direction opposite their destination, either that or they hoped to bait them into an elaborate trap.


    In either case, Chloe¡¯s party was having none of it. Arciel joined Ace in the crowd. She darted from shadow to shadow before appearing behind the mob and dropping to her knees. Her hands were clasped together, wrapped around the lunar brooch that typically adorned her hat.


    A ray of moonlight swept through the darkness. It shot through the nearest window, bounced into the underground corridor, and homed on the beacon between the priestess¡¯ fingers. The allies it bathed were unaffected, even as their bodies were illuminated by its pale light. The enemies, however, were practically consigned to death. The light ate through their skin and bones. In terms of pure firepower, it was only slightly more powerful than the shadows Ciel slung. The main difference came in the rate of damage. Each pillar and spike her spells produced could only launch a single attack, but the moonlight was ever persistent, constantly burning away the warriors¡¯ flesh before they could be healed.


    Matthias soon joined Ace in the hole and got to carving a path through the half-mangled army. Chloe jumped into the pit as well, making sure to close the door and lock it behind her before following in their footsteps. She could hear the warriors outside pounding on the door, but they were much too late.


    The control center did not share the rest of the building¡¯s aesthetic. The halls were still just as wide, but they were made of metal instead of stone. All of the carpets and wallpapers were gone, revealing a set of almost monotone surfaces lit by the faint magical lights that ran along the walls as would a thin trim. The paint on the floor was the only thing that broke up the boring scene, and even it was not for decoration. Rather, they had arrows pointing down different paths and bits of text supposedly meant to describe them.


    ¡°Well? Where to?¡± asked Ace.


    ¡°I have not the faintest clue, but I would advise against splitting up and exploring the paths in tandem,¡± said Arciel.


    The words on the signs themselves were scrambled and unreadable, presented in a code that the individuals on board had long already committed to memory, and the party had lost the moon¡¯s guidance. There were no windows in the underground sector.


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    ¡°I say left then,¡± said Ace.


    ¡°For what reason?¡± asked the squid.


    ¡°Dunno. Just a hunch,¡± he said.


    He put both his weapons away and started down the hall, glancing briefly into each of the rooms he passed. There was an engineering bay, an armoury, and a number of private quarters, among several other facilities the party found nondescript. Continuing forward, they discovered a kitchen accompanied by a set of smaller laboratories, all of which had artificers running around half-panicked within. They started barricading the doors when they spotted the intruders, though their efforts were largely wasted.


    The brigade continued to put speed over murder; they would eventually have to take control of the interior spaces, but that could easily wait until Lord Porcius was dead.


    Even running down the hall, it took the group a few minutes to reach the end; the underground structure spanned the entire mothership¡¯s length, and the physical fighters reduced their speed to match the mage¡¯s pace. The back wall funnelled them straight into another hall, roughly twice as long with similar facilities spread throughout. The only entryway that stood out was the double door at its far end, which was placed alongside a turn that led down another hall.


    Peeking through the window revealed a large room with a map of the surrounding area projected in the middle. A familiar man was standing on the opposite side of the magical device, leaning on the counter with a hand propping up his face. His eyes turned up as soon as he felt their gazes, meeting them head-on before breathing a tired sigh. He raised his hand and lazily beckoned them in, the apparent boredom never leaving him all the while.


    Ace went first. He pushed the door open while carefully observing his surroundings, entering only after he was convinced that it wasn¡¯t a trap. There were two groups of soldiers present in the space, one manning the various magical devices and the other standing directly behind the marquis. The latter group was fully armoured. Including Porcius, there were six of them, two cottontails, a throae, two centaurs, and an elf, all fighters from the unit that had captured them earlier in the day.


    Their presence meant only one thing: their enemies had predicted their strategy.


    They had been outmaneuvered.


    Chloe bit her lip as she grabbed a dagger through the fabric of her skirt. She didn¡¯t know what to do. The six champions were more than powerful enough to trample them underfoot, but they would have more luck confronting them than they would the enemies waiting outside. Looking at Arciel didn¡¯t help. The queen was equally as perplexed; her mind was racing, likely seeking the reason that Griselda had led them straight into the marquis¡¯ trap.


    ¡°Now, I¡¯m sure you might be wondering why we¡¯re all here.¡± Pollux yawned as he approached the uninvited guests. ¡°The answer¡¯s actually pretty simple. I figured out what you were planning, so I pretty much begged for help. A bit of grovelling goes a long way, especially if it¡¯s deserved.¡± He chuckled at the self-derision. ¡°And before you ask, yes, it was obvious. There wasn¡¯t really much else you could have done. The clam was probably the most dangerous among you, and he¡¯s already done us the favour of offing himself.¡±


    ¡°Why did you not simply intercept us then?¡± asked Arciel. ¡°What purpose was there in the sacrifice of your soldiers?¡±


    ¡°That was just the usual fare. Do you not do that in Vel¡¯khan?¡± he continued after noting the confusion on the queen¡¯s face. ¡°No wonder you idiots are so weak. We were giving them a chance to get themselves some achievements. Surviving stuff that¡¯s beyond you is pretty much the secret sauce when it comes to mutating your classes. Only thing better is squeezing out a win.¡±


    The queen frowned. ¡°We are not so cruel to our men.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s why they¡¯re so goddamn pathetic. You guys are so weak that I honestly feel kinda bad for bullying you. Look, tell you what, I¡¯ll give you guys a handicap. We won¡¯t come at you all at once. Hell, we¡¯ll let you pick who you want to duel. Let¡¯s call it a trial run for the real thing next year.¡±


    Arciel frowned. ¡°Very well. Leave us a moment to discuss our choices.¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure. Take your time. It¡¯s not like we¡¯re in any rush.¡± Porcius twisted his lips into a nasty smile as he returned to his previous position.


    The queen glanced through the enemy lines before turning back to the group with a frown. She was out of ideas, and a quick glance around the party confirmed that she was not alone. The whole group was tense. Their morale was shot. No one had stopped for even a moment to consider the possibility that their enemies would be lying in wait.


    ¡°Well? Get on with it,¡± said Pollux. ¡°I know I said we¡¯d wait, but you can¡¯t just sit around and stare each other down.¡±


    ¡°Do not rush us,¡± said Arciel. ¡°You are only further delaying our discussions.¡±


    ¡°You weren¡¯t even saying anything.¡±


    ¡°It was my intention to set the tone with a pause. Now you have gone ahead and ruined it,¡± said the squid.


    ¡°I hope you realize that my patience is literally the only goddamn thing that¡¯s keeping us from jumping you right now, and that you¡¯re wearing it awfully fucking thin.¡±


    ¡°How unfortunate. I do believe a poor temper is a common symptom of a traumatic upbringing. Have you considered consulting a medical professional?¡±


    Porcius¡¯ soldiers broke into a laugh, leaving the man in question only all the more annoyed. But while he clicked his tongue and tapped a finger against the table, he refrained from ordering an attack.


    Chloe, on the other hand, only twisted her lips into a wry smile. She was starting to feel that her mistress might have taken a few too many pages out of a certain weirdo¡¯s book¡ªnot that she commented aloud. She was too busy; her eyes were stuck tracing the arc that the queen¡¯s chest had taken through the air. It was a sight that filled her with inspiration. Gulping, Chloe took a deep breath and stepped out in front of the rest of the group.


    Ciel gave her a curious look, which she met with a forced smile. She didn¡¯t ask for tacit permission¡ªa contingency, in case the plan failed to come to fruition.


    She was a maid. Her one duty was to serve her mistress and see to it that her desires were done, even if they were left unsaid. In the current circumstance, that desire was to find a way for the party to escape unscathed. And technically speaking, Chloe was not one of its members. She didn¡¯t measure up to any of the other combatants. Despite possessing a means to turn the tides.


    ¡°Lord Porcius,¡± she said, as she stepped forward.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Won¡¯t you reconsider, sir?¡± She slowly lifted her skirt as she advanced, shamelessly exposing the bare skin of her ankles, shin, and knees. Her tail traced its way up the insides of her legs, inching forward at a tantalizing pace. It vanished when it reached her thighs, emerging again as a bulge beneath her blouse as it worked its way up her stomach and between the mounds on her chest. And then, it popped out of her collar, wrapping its way around her tongue before leading his gaze straight into her eyes. She knew that her magical charms would be ineffective, but the effect that bolstered her seduction worked away at full force. It wasn¡¯t a spell¡¯s doing, just a modifier enforced by the system¡¯s declarations. ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯re of much more use alive.¡±


    Her tail pulled down on her collar, revealing the valley that lay beneath it.


    She could tell that it was working. He was staring. They were all staring. Male or otherwise, the Cadrians¡¯ minds were jumbled by the exotic display. She nervously began undoing her buttons, knowing that she could keep their attention. But she didn¡¯t maintain it for long.


    The room turned red; one of the nearby devices started flashing a bright, crimson light.


    ¡°W-we¡¯ve got trouble!¡± shouted its operator. ¡°We¡¯ve detected a surge of powerful magic directly beneath the ship. Requesting barriers!¡±


    ¡°Barriers enabled!¡± shouted another operator.


    ¡°Fucking hell,¡± said Porcius. He groaned aloud, but his expression betrayed his thoughts; his face was marked with an undeniable grin. ¡°What¡¯re the numbers, sergeant.¡±


    ¡°O-one second, Sir,¡± gulped the operator. ¡°The caster is aspect level. The magical signature aligns with the caster we encountered earlier this morning. The spell¡¯s output is still rising, and we don¡¯t have a final measurement, sir, but it¡¯s looking like it¡¯ll be ultimate class!¡±


    ¡°How much mana are we talking?¡± asked the marquis.


    There was no response, only a deluge of incoherent sound.


    ¡°Goddammit, soldier, talk! We don¡¯t pay you to stutter.¡± His feigned exasperation lasted until he reached the terminal. The blood drained from his face as soon as he saw the numbers reported. ¡°Change of plans,¡± he said. ¡°Execute the captives immediately. We¡¯ve reached the end of the line.¡±

 Chapter 365 - The Stifled Sword IX

    Chapter 365 - The Stifled Sword IX


    109833 - 3 - 4 - 3


    Dear Diary,


    Lina had a great idea, so today we made Ms. Olga a present to pay her back for dinner. We threw together a whole bunch of flowers we found when we went out to play in the forest. She liked them a lot. She says she¡¯s gonna treat us to something tasty again tomorrow.


    Lia


    ___


    Porcius¡¯ men sprang into action as soon as the marquis gave the word. They were like a pack of ravenous wolves. The mages channelled their fastest spells and the warriors lunged across the stage, their blades thirsting for blood. The non-magical cottontail was the group¡¯s fastest member. She crossed the ten meters between the two groups in a fraction of a second, her blade aimed straight at Arciel¡¯s neck.


    To the few capable of perceiving her blinding speed, it appeared as if the kill was hers to take. But she never made contact. A massive bubble inserted itself into the space between them and slowed her to crawl before pushing her back the way she came. She struggled against it, gouging at it with the tip of her sword, but it refused to budge.


    The mages¡¯ attacks met the same end. The fireballs and lightning bolts were all unceremoniously consumed; the shield absorbed them all without the slightest hint of losing its effect.


    It was a baffling display, but Iapetus, the group¡¯s one thoraen warrior, was undeterred. He chalked the protection¡¯s effectiveness up to a lack of power and stepped forward to break the shield himself. He raised all six of his arms overhead and prepared a powerful, downward smash. His muscles bulged, tripling in volume as the tattoos that adorned his arms glowed with a dazzling light. And yet, the results were unchanged. His swords, shields, and spears sank into the elastic material and bounced right off without so much as leaving a scratch.


    Furious, he shifted into his ars magna. The most powerful attack in his kit embodied the concept of bludgeoning. It was a deadly blow that instantly destroyed any entity whose current health was less than ten times his strength. But again, there was no damage done. His weapons were repelled, brushed away like a child by an uncaring adult. There wasn¡¯t even a shockwave with which he could startle his foes. His attack was completely and utterly denied.


    His indignation peaked when he regarded his enemies again and found that he was ignored. Not a single one of the four fighters was concerned with his assault. Their attention was centred on an empty spot in the middle of the room, like they were seeing something that he was not. The phenomenon was strange enough for him to direct his gaze towards the magical spectrometer, only to find that it was gone. Its operator had half suffered the same fate. The bottom half of her body was still present, but something had removed everything above her hips.


    He clicked his tongue. The information they had gathered was far from complete. The enemy must have had a high-level rogue¡ªsomeone to cover for the mage standing beneath the ship.


    It only made sense. The stealthier types were meant to avoid detection; a rogue who spoiled his cover, a rogue who revealed his existence to the world, was a rogue whose use was already half squandered.


    Sucking in his teeth again, the thoraen warrior threw his weapons over his shoulder and took a moment to consider his position. Iapetus was one of the few with some amount of faith in Porcius. He didn¡¯t think much of the man as a leader, but as a fighter, the buck¡¯s edge was keen. If said keen warrior was on high alert, then chances were their shit was fucked. The only reason for such a claim, especially one wrought by the spectrometer, was for the enemy mage to have exceeded all his calculations, despite having been made with an aspect in mind.


    The thought was as thrilling as it was terrifying. He still had an attachment to life, but his battlelust had him by the balls. He wanted¡ªneeded¡ªto know what it was like to engage an aspect in a duel to the death. He was one of the lucky few to have been personally tutored by Virillius. But it had only been a friendly, instructional match, and the king¡ªduke, back then¡ªhadn¡¯t bothered to show him the extent of the gap between their prowess. He needed to learn it. He needed to know the rush of challenging a foe that could treat him like a child. He needed to wrap up his assignment so he could hunt the caster.


    Fortunately, the bubble was quick to fade. It vanished after just a few seconds, leaving the enemies fully exposed. Something about them had changed. There was a faint, wispy aura around each of their bodies. It was pale enough that it could barely be seen, but his compound eyes attested to its undeniable existence. He hadn¡¯t the faintest clue as to its effect, but whatever the case, his next course of action was clear.


    The queen was probably dead. The greedy, spring-footed rabbit beside him had broken into another deadly charge. But he chose her as his target regardless, just in case the rabbit failed to see it through.


    He knew that it was checkmate. She could never evade them both. The pieces were on the board, and she was completely cornered.


    His certainty gave way to surprise when he found a wand buried deep within his eye. It failed to reach his brain. The wooden stick was unable to pierce his bone, and the spell it unleashed was just as pathetic. He tried to slash at her body, but she vanished before his blade could reach.


    Frowning, the man fixed his wound and raised his weapons again. She had already returned to her previous position, her wand pressed against the cottontail¡¯s neck and the wispy aura growing ever stronger. She unleashed a blast of magic; a torrent of shadows swallowed the rabbit whole. But again, no damage was done. The spells were weak enough that she hurt him more when she slapped the back of his head and sent him spiralling to the floor.


    Her approach to combat had changed since they captured her that morning, but he could tell that the discrepancy was at least somewhat unplanned from the way she looked between her torn-up glove and the target she struck.


    He understood full well from that alone. The wispy aura was a buff, likely applied by the bard beneath the fortress. She was toying with them, making them fall victim to the very prey that they had seemingly secured. It was a blatant insult to their pride as warriors, a show that a simple buff sufficed to negate all the time and effort they had ever invested.


    But at the same time, it was a testament to her presence on the other side.


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    By defeating the foe in front of him, Iapetus could win one point over the aspect to whom their lives were beholden. He could challenge a mage on the verge of immortality. And he could come out on top. Empowered by the realization, he raised both arms overhead and charged. He could feel the feet pushing against the ship as he closed the distance and rushed the witch again. He raised his weapon. But his assault was interrupted by the same warrior he felled that morning.


    The mantis placed himself between them and deflected his spear with a rapid swing. The parry was heavy enough that the rest of his weapons joined the spear in missing the man in front of him. Like the sudden change in the witch¡¯s speed, it was born of the aspect¡¯s power. And it meant trouble. Matthias¡¯ technique was well beyond his level, but without enough speed or brute strength to back it, it was worth nothing.


    That was why he had fallen in the first place. Iapetus had literally crushed him underfoot, overpowered him with a single limb. But the bard changed everything. That one moment of contact was all he needed to confirm it. His enemy¡¯s raw strength had grown to outclass his own. He was faster as well, enhanced to the point where he could easily keep pace. With the tempo on the enemy¡¯s side, it was a situation which called for the bee-ogre¡¯s forfeit, but he had never been one to yield.


    Again, he raised all six arms overhead and prepared his ars magna. He didn¡¯t care that the enemy was going for his head. His body would complete its task even if his mind was destroyed and ensure a mutual elimination. Those were the terms he laid, the terms with which he was willing to die.


    It was supposed to be a life for a life. But the enemy chickened out. He retracted his weapon and evaded the blow. He kicked at the thorae¡¯s legs, but even with his strength enhanced, his own feet were far too thin and brittle. His strikes were unable to shake the trunks with which the ogre was planted.


    Iapetus lifted his weapon and prepared another attack. He was ready to strike the warrior down and brute-force his way to an even trade.


    But he stopped before he could.


    It was not because he suffered an unexpected attack. But because he had witnessed the nameless knight¡¯s arrival.


    Like his allies, the carefully trained thorae turned his body, shifting slightly so his weapons were held between the active combatants and the newfound intruder. But then, he froze. They all froze, with some going as far as to drop their weapons as they laid their eyes on the knight¡¯s naked face.


    It was not the person they expected.


    Everyone had been told, effectively convinced by both Lord Ephesus and the data they gathered that they were up against the king¡¯s older brother, the traitor who forced a wedge between their almighty ruler and the benevolent monarch he served before. They were all convinced that they were right, that there was no mistaking their judgement. But seeing the knight unmasked, they could begin to question all the things they thought they knew. Why was she there? Was it they or she who fought against their country? Was the grand magus the aspect beneath the ship? Was Ephesus mistaken? Or had he simply chosen to obscure the facts despite possessing a better view of the status quo?


    There were so many points of confusion that Iapetus had no idea where or how to begin.


    Porcius was very much the same. He stared and scratched his head as he tried to work through the problem. But he was given no time. Claire walked right up to him, a cold stare on her face all the while.


    ¡°Porcius.¡±


    The cervitaur snapped to attention when his name was called. He dropped to his knees, with a hand across his chest and his head bowed. But evidently, his obedience was not the princess¡¯ desire. She drove a foot into his face, sending him flying across the room and into one of the panels that showed the world outside.


    ¡°Don¡¯t bow,¡± she said. ¡°Fight me. Again.¡±


    Porcius frowned. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I see the purpos¡ª¡±


    He cut himself off to evade a flying dagger. It went straight into the wall beside his head, burying itself at least a meter deep.


    ¡°I said fight me.¡±


    The marquis sighed. Slowly getting to his feet, he brushed off the crystalline shards born of the union of her foot and his helm. Both the excitement that had stemmed from the prospect of glory and the fear that had gripped him in the aspect¡¯s wake were gone, replaced by the boredom and lethargy that always plagued his person.


    ¡°Can you at least explain what¡¯s going on?¡±


    Claire paused. ¡°I¡¯ll consider it if you win.¡±


    Porcius cocked a brow as he looked her over. ¡°So is that bard of yours going to buff you up?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then you don¡¯t stand a chance.¡±


    A small smile crossed her face, one so faint that it practically went unnoticed.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t grown any stronger.¡± Her dagger suddenly appeared in her hand. It twisted itself out of shape, growing and warping until it became a halberd. The design was strange, featuring a bone as its base and both a hook and a hammer to maximize its utility. To Porcius, it made no sense, but to Claire, it was familiar. ¡°But now, I know my faults.¡±


    ¡°What the hell are yo¡ª¡±


    She grabbed his unprotected tongue with a vector and yanked it silent.


    Iapetus gulped as he watched the scenario unfold. He couldn¡¯t interrupt, especially not after she looked at him the moment he imagined raising his voice. Having studied under her father directly, he knew the look, and he didn¡¯t dare oppose it.


    ¡°Come. Strike me down, finish me if you dare.¡±


    Porcius tried to talk, but his lips remained tightly shut, muffling and distorting his words beyond the point of coherence. He tried again, but seeing the result repeated, he picked up his weapon and assumed a combative stance. Eventually, he charged, his blade aimed directly at her center of mass.


    She only raised her weapon overhead and waited. It was an unguarded stance, like she was betting that her strike would land. Porcius suspected that it was bait, that the bard¡¯s buff would kick in, but he continued regardless. If she was to play such a card, it would surely be as they came within striking distance.


    His sense of timing was certainly correct, but the event was not what he predicted. His last-second guard went completely to waste.


    The ground beneath them lurched, and the entire floating fortress tilted as the marquis¡¯ foot was about to hit the ground. There was no tell, no way for any of the fighters to have known that it was coming. Everyone in the room was thrown off balance.


    Everyone except for the princess herself.


    Porcius tried to react. He spread all of his wings, even the ones that adorned his hooves. But though he was far faster than his opponent, she had read ahead. She knew that he would rear up to regain his balance, that his wings would displace him, and that his momentum would be locked the moment they were flapped. That was why her blade had remained steady, held in the same position throughout the split-second exchange.


    It was too late by the time he recalled it.


    He tried to dodge backwards, flapping his wings as hard as he could, but the halberd¡¯s blade extended to match his retreat. His only choice was to raise his weapon to prevent the blade from landing, and he was just fast enough to pull it off.


    With divinity factored out of the equation, neither fighter had grown since their last encounter. But that was precisely why his defence was so easily predicted.


    Her tail slammed into the shaft of his spear and swatted it out of the way.


    Her weapon landed right between his eyes.


    The heavy glaive completely flattened his skull while another twenty ikaretts skewered his body through.

 Chapter 366 - The Stifled Sword X

    Chapter 366 - The Stifled Sword X


    109833 - 3 - 4 - 4


    Dear Diary,


    I think I have a dream now. I¡¯m gonna make lots and lots of money so I can eat lots and lots of expensive things.


    Expensive things taste really good.


    Lia


    ___


    Iapetus gulped as he watched the marquis fall. Blood poured from his wounds and flowed from his skull, coating the room in a layer of red. It stained his murderer¡¯s armour and splattered all over her face, but she didn¡¯t react. She only continued to observe his corpse. There was none of the respect or gratitude that her words had implied, only a blanket of biting cold.


    A shiver shot up the bee-ogre¡¯s spine, triggered by the brief moment in which their gazes happened to meet. She was just surveying the room. There was no murder in her eyes; she thought nothing of him, or anyone else for that matter, but he found his hands and knees shaking beneath him. He couldn¡¯t get up. His hips were too weak for him to push himself back off the ground. His allies were the same, and even hers watched in fearful silence, not daring to speak a word.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be in the middle of something?¡± She tilted her head. The distracting, cutesy gesture only accented her bloody intentions. She was asking for murder, demanding that they slay each other before her.


    There was no reason for her words to bear such weight. She spoke them softly, without the slightest care. And yet, he found himself scrambling to his feet, gripping his weapons, and preparing for combat. He couldn¡¯t find it in himself to disobey, not when she carried herself with her father¡¯s demeanour.


    All he had ever wanted was right there in front of him, hovering just beyond his reach. All it would take was a few words from her for him to fulfill his heart¡¯s desire, a few words for him to feel as if Virillius himself had asked him to lay down his life.


    He knew that his logic was riddled with contradictions. She couldn¡¯t have been so almighty. They had already defeated her earlier in the day and proven that she was another mortal foe. And yet, the way she had dismantled the marquis was so decisive that he couldn¡¯t help but find himself drawn and enamoured. She was her father¡¯s daughter. And that alone made her practically divine.


    If Iapetus wished to stand before her, to position himself as a foe to be slain, he needed only to slaughter the Vel¡¯khanese. His heart pumping in his chest, he immediately raised his blades and pointed them at the mantis, stopping to realize his foolish error only as one of his allies approached her directly.


    He was a fool. Counting the princess, each group had exactly five members; the cottontail mage had pulled the rug from beneath his feet. Clicking his teeth, he turned back towards his enemy and cracked his neck. He wasn¡¯t worried. Tertia was a powerful caster, but he knew his prize would emerge from the encounter unharmed. She wouldn¡¯t have been worth fighting if that were not the case. Still, he wanted to be next in line, so he charged the mantis with all his weapons drawn and a battlecry upon his lips.


    He began with a traditional attack, a standard opening listed in most thoraen martial scrolls. It started with a single spear. The tip of his longest weapon was thrust towards the mantis¡¯ face with a twist of the hips. Matthias parried the blade, knocking it aside as he had earlier. But it was the second clash and he knew the rhiar¡¯s tricks. The ogre was fully prepared. He planted a foot firmly on the ground right before the moment of impact and made full use of the momentum bestowed.


    Transforming it into centrifugal force, he drove his shield forward, ploughing through the cross-armed defence and bashing the mantis into the air. Again, his tiny legs were his downfall. They were unable to keep him grounded, even when struck by a weaker foe.


    Matthias barely squeezed out a counterattack. He bent his scythe and swung for the bee-ogre¡¯s chest, but Iapetus guarded his gut with his second shield. His remaining four arms immediately jumped into action, delivering a flurry of blows aimed down the length of the mantis¡¯ body. They came up above, taking full advantage of the bee-ogre¡¯s massive stature.


    The Vel¡¯khanese warrior barely evaded them. The spears and swords worked their way through the outermost layers of his carapace, spilling the hemolymph that flowed through his veins. Another wave of attacks followed. Spear, sword, sword, shield, spear. Stabs, slashes, and violent bashes rained down without the slightest delay.


    The thorae had regained his tempo. His mind was steadied by the princess¡¯ presence. If she was taking to the stage in person, looking to undo her shame, then the aspect was unlikely to wipe them all out. He didn¡¯t need to opt for a last-ditch suicide attack. And if there was no time limit, then he remained confident in his renewed victory. It was a determination made from his long time on the battlefield. Those less practiced with enhancements exposed weaknesses in their use.


    Case in point was the unimpressive speed with which the mantis recovered. Instead of digging his feet into the ground and forcing himself into position, he allowed his momentum to carry him, as would one unaccustomed to near supersonic speed. And that was the gap for which the bee had aimed. Mandibles crunching, he closed the distance with an attack that closely resembled a bladed hug. His swords descended from above while his spears homed in from the sides.


    Matthias narrowly ducked under it, only for a knee to collide with the bottom of his face. He flew across the room and nearly tumbled out into the hall. He was only stopped by a sudden change in momentum. A shield dropped on his face from above and bashed him into the ground.


    Iapetus raised his arms and prepared to finish the mantis with his ars magna, but he suddenly found his body incapable of movement. He couldn¡¯t see it, but there were a series of needles buried in his shadow, pinning it in place and his body by extension.


    It was a brief effect. He managed to break free with a roar and a flex; but the process was long enough for his opponent to escape his grasp.


    The rhiar warrior vanished before his eyes. His whole body suddenly faded away, leaving no trace of his presence. Though he had secured the duel¡¯s momentum, Matthias did not immediately engage. He stepped back to calm himself down. He needed to readjust. His numbers were much higher than his opponent¡¯s. Sylvia¡¯s buffs had increased his agility and strength by a million points a piece.


    And according to her analysis, his opponents¡¯ numbers were still far from the seven-digit mark. Victory should have been his for the taking, but he hadn¡¯t been able to strike a clean and decisive blow. The best he could manage, even with Sylvia¡¯s enhancements, was an even trade.


    He couldn¡¯t win a direct confrontation.


    That was why he fell back. It took a moment for his wounds to heal and another for his scythes to stop trembling in the painful aftermath, but he resisted the urge to cry out and snuck around the room. Another few moments, and he was ready, ready to strike at an unguarded target. But his opponent was having none of it.


    The ogre drew in a mighty breath and tripled the size of his chest cavity before unleashing a deafening roar. Half the eardrums in the room exploded. Blood leaked from his enemies and allies alike. But the bee-ogre cared little. The other Cadrians were his rivals to begin with, contenders for the place and death he so desperately desired.


    Matthias was no exception. The hearing organ in his chest burst open. But more importantly, his cloak was half blown away; his body was revealed to the man who sought his head.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Iapetus closed the gap in an instant. He used all of his weapons as he had before and bore them down on his foe.


    The rhiar quickly pat down his cloak and made an escape, nearly shaking as the tip of the ogre¡¯s spear grazed the bit of carapace that covered his throat. But by flapping his wings, he narrowly managed to escape the ogre¡¯s range.


    Only to be attacked by a second roar.


    His freshly recovered ear burst open and his magical mantle fluttered to reveal him again. It was a game of cat and mouse; they went through the cycle again and again, stopping only when the thorae found a weapon sticking out from between his chest.


    It wasn¡¯t Matthias¡¯ doing. The rhiar was still on the back foot, taking advantage of the opening to back away and heal. When Iapetus craned his neck, he found the princess, her eyes even colder than before.


    ¡°Shut up,¡± she said.


    She pushed him forward with a foot and pulled her lizard out from between his ribs. Looking closer, he found that she was floating in midair with nothing to explain her suspension. She had no wings growing out of her armour nor any artifacts on her feet to aid in walking across the sky. She was just there, standing in defiance of the laws of physics.


    His focus on her position was what distracted him from the nature of his crime. He didn¡¯t understand why he had been attacked until he finally changed his focus to the blood trails that flowed down the length of her form. Following them, he found that they were coming from within her head, running down the length of her ears and dripping from their tips. It took another moment for him to put two and two together. She was furious. Even though it didn¡¯t show on her face.


    And yet, he only felt euphoria. Pure, unbridled joy pierced his core as he realized that he, Iapetus of Tornatus, had completed his goal. He had left his mark. He had violated the princess¡¯ ears.


    He laughed, cackled as he stumbled forward and spun around.


    It didn¡¯t matter how it turned out.


    He had achieved his goal.


    That was why he raised his blades overhead and prepared another attack. He didn¡¯t know how much health she had, or how she could stop him, but he would strike her with his ars magna regardless. The same trade he had offered the mantis during their earlier exchange.


    But his proposal was summarily rejected.


    Turning her weapon into a series of whips, she grabbed him by the wrists and yanked him forward right in the middle of his swing. He tried to steady himself, but she jabbed a blade between his knees and stole his balance. All six weapons went wide. A claw dug into his back and sank him into the ground. He didn¡¯t think much of it at first, even though the jagged talons cut through the nerves in his arms. It didn¡¯t matter. He closed his wounds in a heartbeat. Or at least that was what he tried.


    His body refused to obey his orders. Confused, he opened his status, only to find his health vanishing at an alarming rate. He barely had any time to process the details before a second claw reached his head and squished his face into the floor.


    Claire repeated the action twice after he was dead, fully venting her frustration before getting back off the ground. Matthias wasn¡¯t the only one struggling. Even with Sylvia¡¯s buffs, Chloe was slowly losing ground to the mage and Ciel had done no lasting damage. Only Ace had emerged victorious, his enemy cleaved in half by his horse-killing sword; Sylvia had increased his strength and speed to the point that he was able to outpace his foe.


    The lyrkress¡¯ opponent was just as dead. His lightning-based spells had effectively proven worthless in the face of her resistance. He had tried to escape by turning into electricity himself, but the process entailed shedding his armour. That in turn allowed her to grab ahold of him, even in his immaterial, energy-based form.


    She paused for a few moments, debating the two ongoing fights before choosing to focus on Ciel¡¯s. The mage¡¯s opponent was an average-looking elf. As far as battlemages went, his style was not particularly outstanding. His flames accompanied his fists, dancing with each move he made. His properties were far from squid-friendly. The flaming illumination polluted the shadows, squirrelling them away in the room¡¯s far corners, and his fiery body evaporated her blood whenever it drew near.


    Claire, however, experienced none of the associated problems. She grabbed the mage through his flaming mantle and gave his head a squish.


    It was all too easy, like her previous struggles had been nothing but a figment of her imagination.


    But it only made sense. Her instincts had informed her that she could kill them all, that they shouldn¡¯t have posed much of a challenge. And they had been almost entirely correct. All of the difficulty she encountered had stemmed from the inefficient use of her powers.


    She hated it. Knowing her own failure only drove her self-loathing. But at least their enemies were there for her to vent.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Your aid is greatly appreciated.¡±


    "You need to work on your firepower," said Claire.


    "It pains me to admit that I have arrived at the same conclusion." The squid heaved a sigh and focused her eyes on the final duel. "Shall we assist?"


    "No point," she said, with her eyes laser-focused.


    The rest of the brigade curiously followed her sightline, looking out the door and down the hall. They didn''t seem to find anything at first, with Ace scratching his head and Matthias tilting his. Still, she continued to stare, until a blur burst through the door. It¡ªshe¡ªdashed right past them and collided with the last centaur still standing. Her fists ripped through his flesh. There was nothing to enhance the blows, no arcane magic nor any songstress-derived enhancements. And yet, she tore right into him.


    Chloe moved behind the horse-man in the meantime and stabbed him in the back of the neck. Her blade dug and gouged, ripping at his spine every single time he repaired it. Her strength had been magnified a hundredfold, but she suffered from the same problem as her guard¡ªa lack of habituation. She stuck to the smaller, faster strokes that most dagger wielders favoured, not relying on her muscles to do any of the work.


    Still, it was good enough. She brought her blade higher with each thrust, eventually digging it into the centaur¡¯s critical weakness and finishing him from atop his back.


    The maid collapsed almost immediately as her foe was slain, falling into a tired pile atop the back of his corpse.


    ¡°Objective completed,¡± said the newcomer.


    ¡°Good evening, Sophia,¡± said Arciel. ¡°It pleases me to know that you still draw breath.¡±


    The soldier lightly nodded and lowered her fists. The rest of the group joined after a brief delay, allowing the tension to drain from all their shoulders. One could easily argue that they were too hasty in their relaxation. There were technically still enemy soldiers in the room, though none of them had any clear will to resist. When Claire looked at them, they silently retreated from their stations and gathered in one of the room¡¯s far corners.


    Most were artificers or artificer-adjacent: pilots, administrators, and so on and so forth. They were practically useless in a fight, with some of their combat classes as low as level one hundred.


    ¡°I must say. My lack of raw force aside, their armour was rather troublesome. Perhaps we ought to salvage some of it for ourselves?¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Might work against a mage, but I¡¯d doubt they¡¯d be any decent in a melee.¡± Ace picked up a shoulder guard off a corpse and tapped it with the back of his fist. It shattered almost immediately; his body was still enhanced. ¡°Doubt we¡¯ll find ourselves a craftsman capable of handling ¡®em anyway. These things don¡¯t even look like the kind that you can forge.¡± He raised one to the lights that lined the bridge¡¯s walls. ¡°Pretty sure each piece is carved from a single rock.¡±


    ¡°How unfortunate,¡± said the queen. She took off the oversized helmet she had placed over her hat and handed it to Sophia, who stared for a few seconds before strapping a belt around it. She hoisted in front of her fairly easily, but Ace only shook his head.


    ¡°Looks like it¡¯d work, at least, but it ain¡¯t gonna do you much good,¡± he said. ¡°Even an arrow would eat right through it.¡± The magic vanished from his body as he spoke; the silvery aura that the fox had granted slowly wore off, with his speed and strength fading alongside it.


    He and most of the others paused for a brief moment while their senses readjusted; a brief moment of dizziness assaulted their minds as the world sped up again.


    And that was the moment she aimed for.


    ¡°Initiating extermination protocol.¡±


    Ripping the shield from the lizardman¡¯s grasp, Sophia drove her fist towards the warrior.


    ¡°Watch out!¡± A sooty blob dashed up to the lizard and tried to push him out of the way. It was Panda. He had come out of nowhere again, but while his appearance was seemingly impossible, his tiny frame made for a flimsy shield. Sophia¡¯s fist ran through his chest, emerging out the other side with its momentum barely altered.


    But the punch was only half of the traitor¡¯s attack.


    A blade of arcane magic erupted from her fingers and traced the path her fist had followed. It passed right through the lizardman¡¯s core and left a slash that trailed from his waist to the opposite shoulder.

 Chapter 367 - The Stifled Sword XI

    Chapter 367 - The Stifled Sword XI


    109833 - 3 - 4 - 8


    Dear Diary,


    Today Master took us out hunting and showed us what Vel¡¯khanese dungeons are like. There was a lot of water and I learned how to swim! Lina can¡¯t really swim yet even though she¡¯s way stronger and faster than me. She doesn¡¯t really like water in general. Master said that it was because she was a catgirl, but I don¡¯t really see how that has to do with anything. Sometimes, I think he forgets that I¡¯m a catgirl too.


    We¡¯re going to leave Vel¡¯irrin tomorrow so we can go to the capital.


    I don¡¯t really want to go, but Ms. Olga said her real home is even better than the one we¡¯re staying in right now, and the food is tastier in the capital too. I can¡¯t wait! We¡¯re going to have so much fun!


    Lia


    ___


    Ace slowly lowered his head as his mind caught up with the world around it. Blood dribbled from his lips and flowed from his chest. He struggled to keep his body together, but it refused to listen. He couldn¡¯t feel his arms or legs. Nothing past his shoulders seemed to respond to his commands.


    The most he could manage was a bested grin.


    He should have known. All the signs were there, but in spite of his role, he was too foolish, too trusting to have seen them. The loss was his. And he was happy to accept it.


    The lizardman¡¯s chest slid off his severed stump, bursting into a fountain of red.


    Sophia wasted no time. She leapt at the queen almost immediately, but she failed to reach her. Chloe threw herself between them and took on the role of a shield, while Matthias moved even further in front to catch the blow head-on. In a sense, he succeeded. His scythes had intercepted the fists before they could strike his master.


    But so too did the mantis fail. Because his body lacked the durability to emerge unscathed.


    Both natural weapons cracked open. They broke right down the middle and shattered to bits. Having pierced his defences, the punch landed square on his abdomen and ripped his carapace apart.


    Cracks spread throughout his body, glowing a faint crimson before erupting from within. It was a delayed second strike, an arcane variant of a tool that Claire knew well.


    He fell where he stood.


    The same fate as the unlucky lizard.


    But not even his life sufficed to stop the kelpfin¡¯s fist. The hand kept going. It looked like it would surely pierce the maid as well. But the mantis¡¯ flesh slowed it just enough for Claire to enter the fray. She bashed her lizard into the sharkgirl¡¯s fist, displacing it before it could earn another kill.


    The traitor frowned. She locked eyes with Claire for a brief moment before leaping a few feet backwards and escaping the sweeping strike that followed.


    Both fighters lowered their hips and prepared to engage again, but Arciel stepped forward and stuck out her arm, prompting both of them to look her way. The shadow mage was still woozy; she clutched her head as she raised it, her eyes never once shifting to the kelpfin¡¯s frame.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t realize it was her.¡± Panda broke the silence before the squid could speak. Sitting on the ground with his eyes glassy, his head hanging, and his throat filled with blood, he squeezed the words out as best as he could. It didn¡¯t look like he was talking about anyone in particular, and no one in the room had the appropriate context. But he continued to speak regardless. ¡°Ephesus got me good. Swindled even the clothes off my back.¡± He turned his eyes, shifting them towards the royals. ¡°Don¡¯t try it. She¡¯s over nine-hundred.¡±


    And then, silence. There were no more words. His eyes returned to their forward position and his body fell still. Just like the lizard¡¯s.


    ¡°Thank you, Panda,¡± said Arciel, quietly. She took a deep breath before raising her eyes. ¡°Explain yourself, Sophia Ray¡¯esce. What is the meaning of this?¡±


    The kelpfin paused for a second before opening her mouth. ¡°Request denied. I am not authorized to provide that information.¡±


    ¡°She was the traitor,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Negative. I am not a traitor. I am one of your companions,¡± said Sophia.


    It was an obvious lie, but she wasn¡¯t sweating, her heart rate was normal, and her breath held steady. Her speaking was calm, her eyes never wavered, and her statement remained direct. There were no obvious signs. Context was the only thing that allowed the lyrkress to identify the falsehood.


    The deception was so perfectly crafted that not even Claire Augustus could detect it.


    ¡°The prime minister raised you as his own.¡± The queen¡¯s voice cracked.


    ¡°Affirmative. I was considered to be a substitute for his deceased child.¡±


    ¡°Would you truly betray his trust so easily?¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡±


    ¡°And mine as well?¡±


    ¡°Affirmative.¡±


    ¡°We have been acquainted since the moment of my reawakening, Sophia Ray¡¯esce. Must you ignore the bond we have fostered and twist this kni¡ª¡±


    ¡°Enough.¡± Claire pinched the squid¡¯s cheeks and gave her a backwards tug. ¡°You can ask your questions after I snap her neck.¡±


    ¡°I cannot simpl¡ª¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s trying to rile you up.¡±


    ¡°I am aware. But I canno¡ª¡± Arciel was cut short again as her hat was pulled down and made to cover her face. She was pushed away before she could fix it, thrust straight into Chloe¡¯s arms. The maid hugged her tenderly, gently squeezing her shoulders as they continued to tremble.


    Having gotten rid of the troubled monarch, Claire turned to face the newfound foe with Boris raised and ready. She refrained from raising the army in Porcius¡¯ corpse. Projectiles would do no good against a barehanded fighter, and their allies were hardly any better. Sophia only glanced at them occasionally, checking to ensure that the fox¡¯s aura was never restored.


    Claire was the first to move. She slowly walked towards her target and swung her weapon from halfway across the room. The lizard¡¯s torso extended. Increasing in length ten times, he made a beeline for her side.


    Sophia jumped over him. She rotated her body in midair and planted her feet on the ceiling, only to find the lizard turned exactly ninety degrees. He perfectly followed her trajectory without any lapse in speed. It was the sort of impossible movement typically reserved for a skill and limited to a specific set of motions. That was how it worked in the cottontails¡¯ case. But Claire cared little for physics¡ªa fact of which they were both aware.


    The kelpfin bounced into motion. She shot across the ceiling with a cottontail¡¯s momentum and threw a magically infused punch on her way back down to the floor.


    Claire evaded it without so much as sparing a glance, but the ground beneath them wasn¡¯t quite as swift. It cracked as the bare fist made contact, a web-like pattern spreading across the tiles. The fissures pulsed a bright red before bursting with pure mana. The magical blast ripped right through the floor and cracked open the castle¡¯s barrier, fizzling out just before it hit the ground.


    Sophia allowed the lyrkress no time to recover. Her fist still planted on the ground, she twirled her legs to deliver a powerful, sweeping kick. But Claire dodged it again. Ducking beneath the sharkgirl¡¯s bladed feet, she drove Boris towards her gut. He transformed into a blade at the moment of impact and ran her all the way through, but Sophia didn¡¯t even flinch.


    She was technically a warrior type. And as would any such Cadrian soldier, she quickly regenerated her flesh. The effect was even more powerful than that of the previous Pollux. Her wound was closing in spite of the blade still buried within it.


    Neither fighter waited for the restoration to complete. Sophia moved forward; she advanced past the lyrkress¡¯ spear, burying the weapon deeper into her body as she swung her fists at her opponent¡¯s armour. Claire turned Boris into a sword and sawed through the kelpfin¡¯s flesh. She aimed downwards, at her head, so she could stop her regeneration.


    For a second, it looked like they both went all in. But perhaps knowing that her strike would not connect, Sophia gave up halfway. She ripped her body to the side, allowing her foe to remove a rib whilst taking up a better position.


    Claire twisted the weapon on its way out and transformed it into a massive mace. She took far more flesh and bone than Sophia had anticipated, but the traitor¡¯s wounds were healed by the time her body was righted.


    Flapping her wings, the qiligon gave chase, but the fish drew an arc in the air with her hand and produced a magical blade that forced a dodge. It was the same attack that had slain the lizardman in a single blow. Like a beam spell, the arcane-exclusive attack was of a contractual nature, its invocation requiring a minute in combat since its last use. With most high-level duels lasting but a few seconds, its value was scarce, but its raw power could not be simply denied. The missed blade murdered the ship¡¯s crew, carved through the barrier, and exposed the night sky beyond.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The weaponless battlemage followed the attack with a charge, but Claire magically grabbed her foot as soon as she tried to raise it. Whereas most others would have crashed into the ground, the Cadrian spy carried on undisturbed. She caught herself with her hands and used the forward momentum to deliver a somersault kick.


    It landed right on target. The unread attack broke through Claire¡¯s armour and struck her in the middle of the chest. Both fighters took damage. Claire¡¯s shard tore through the traitor¡¯s foot and left a trail of ice within it, but the trade still fell in the enemy¡¯s favour.


    The physical damage dealt was practically negligible. Claire¡¯s bones were rattled and her flesh was bruised, but everything remained exactly where it was. The magic that invaded her body was far more painful. It entered through the point of contact, eating and burning her flesh as it intruded upon her ruined circuits. The pain she felt each day was amplified a hundredfold. Her breath ran ragged and her legs threatened to tremble. Even though she had mitigated the damage by absorbing much of the mana.


    The tactic would have worked against any other type of battlemage. The magical attack that Sophia had launched, however, was not delicate enough for it to be labelled a spell. It was nothing but a torrent of raw power, power that Claire was certain the shark had not possessed before.


    A second attack followed before the caldriess could recover. Sophia bounced off the ceiling and transitioned into a downward smash. Her fists were on track to nail the lyrkress¡¯ skull, but a last-minute vector pulled her arms off course and steered her into a counter.


    It was the elf god¡¯s technique, just performed with magic in place of the usual, primitive means. All barbarism was left to her lizard, which she delivered in the shape of an elephant sword.


    The tip of Boris¡¯ blade gouged open the shark¡¯s face. He bit into her skull and cracked it in half before erupting from the other side. Such an attack would surely have seen Porcius defeated. Her head was split down the middle with a visible tear in her face. But Sophia cared little for such minor inconveniences. She twisted her hips, guiding the blade deeper into her brain as she slammed Claire¡¯s side with an open-palmed strike.


    Gritting her teeth, Claire pushed further into the fistfighter¡¯s range. Grabbing the arcane caster, she assumed her true form and shoved her into the ground. Her magic took hold right after. A thick layer of true ice encased everything up to the base of the kelpfin¡¯s jaw.


    The lyrkress backed away, her eyes trained on her enemy as she magically lifted her into the air, where she could easily be watched for any suspicious movements.


    ¡°Talk,¡± said Claire. ¡°Since when have you been working for Ephesus?¡± It had to have been since the revolution at least. There was no other reason for her to have hidden her strength for so long.


    ¡°Negative. I cannot provide an answer to that question as I have never worked for Ephesus.¡±


    ¡°Then who?¡±


    ¡°My employ was transferred to Arciel Vel¡¯khan at the time I joined the northern brigade. I have been working for her since.¡±


    Claire stared intently, but even with her true form¡¯s even larger ears, she found it impossible to determine if the shark was telling the truth. Nothing about her changed in the slightest. She even returned a calm, tranquil gaze. Her eyes were devoid of malice, defiance, and hate. Not even Claire¡¯s coldness was reflected within them. They were simply empty.


    It might have been easier to expose her lies if they knew more about her background, if they had something or other to leverage. But even if that were to be the case, Claire didn¡¯t see much of a point in interrogation. She could have asked for Sylvia¡¯s help if they were really desperate, but it wasn¡¯t as if there was much to gain from picking the kelpfin¡¯s brain.


    She knew how Cadrian assassins worked. Even if they were caught, even if they were threatened or tortured, they would never reveal the truth.


    Sophia was only worth as much as the experience she granted.


    And that was why she shifted to execution.


    She grabbed the shark¡¯s face and started draining her health. She held the position for a full ten seconds, but Sophia never reacted. Her body never distorted and her soul refused to budge, no matter how hard the lyrkress yanked. It was like the attack had no effect.


    Somewhat annoyed, Claire summoned Boris into the air in front of her. She grabbed him between her teeth, turned him into a mace, and annihilated her target¡¯s skull. There was no doubt that Sophia¡¯s head was gone. It was crushed to tiny bits by the thorny bludgeon.


    And yet, her log was silent.


    It continued to say nothing as the kelpfin¡¯s face reformed from nothing, easily growing from the stump left in the unbreaking ice.


    Claire repeated the attack immediately. But the result was unchanged. Sophia didn¡¯t care that her mind was broken. Her body restored itself regardless. It didn¡¯t make sense. All centaurian, cottontail, and thoraen warriors suffered from the weakness, and the biology of a kelpfin was not different enough to disqualify it. But as she proved, by melting into a fleshy glob that worked its way out of the ice, Sophia was not a kelpfin.


    She quickly reconstructed her body. The supposed shark started by reverting to her previous form, but she rapidly shifted away from the inferior construction. Her skin took on the pale colour shared by most other Cadrians. Her body¡¯s structure became human, with her gills and other shark-like features slowly fading away. But just as the others were about to confirm her humanity, in spite of her lack of genitals, she grew a pair of tendrils from the tip of her tailbone. The tentacles shot across the room and grabbed one of the centaurs that Chloe had previously slain. They separated its two halves and gouged half the flesh out of its horsier body part. She filled the gap herself, entering the horse¡¯s frame and assuming control by attaching her spine to its own.


    The rest of her body changed to match. Her upper half enlarged, scaling to the centaur¡¯s proportions, while her arms extended to allow her to reach her rear. Her chest shrank to nothing, so she more closely resembled the sex of the person she possessed, and her features sharpened, growing more masculine as well.


    Though fascinated, Claire did not simply sit around and allow the enemy to complete her transformation. She struck the strange creature twice, once when she nearly became human, and again as she took over the dead horse. But both times, her attacks were ignored. Sophia had allowed the lizard to enter her body and rip at her flesh without seeing her process disrupted.


    She didn¡¯t react until her body was fully formed, at which point she countered with a sudden punch, one much heavier and faster than any she had delivered before. A giant swing that arced into the lyrkress¡¯ chin.


    Claire was sent flying, but she nulled her momentum quickly enough to evade the blade that followed. Again, the projectile exposed the great outdoors.


    Sophia followed with another strike of the fist, but Claire tilted the building and threw her off balance. She tried to lift the unsteady shark-horse in the meantime, but to no avail. The centaur¡¯s armour neutered her vectors¡¯ output.


    Still, she got her to budge, throwing her further off balance and opening her up to a follow-up attack.


    Claire led with her tail. She covered it with a massive blade, forged from her runecloak, and drove it towards the former fish¡¯s flank. Sophia parried; she knocked it away with her fist and easily deflected the hoof that followed.


    She capitalized on both moments of contact by shooting magic through the lyrkress¡¯ veins. The attacks were effective, but greedy. Because she had failed to see that it was an intentional trade.


    The giant serpent¡¯s jaws dug into her back. Having quickly circled around the fake centaur, Claire drove her teeth through the armour in her horsier half. It shattered almost immediately, breaking into a thousand pieces like a panel of glass.


    No time was wasted. Claire lashed out with a trio of forces and sent her foe flying through one of the openings she created herself. She gave chase right after, following her into the sky in which her body was suspended. There was nothing to give Sophia leverage. She was held in midair with the closest object¡ªthe castle¡¯s wall, nearly a dozen meters away. The wings that adorned her centaurian body were likewise held still, forced in place by the lyrkress¡¯ authority.


    A storm of vectors struck her head-on. They grabbed at her flesh and pulled it away. The vectors didn¡¯t rip cleanly¡ªSophia¡¯s natural magic resistance was just high enough that they had some difficulty pulling her sinew apart. Even attacking from all directions, the spells were unable to outperform her regeneration. But that was hardly a surprise. Claire had known that the attack was unlikely to finish her. She was probing for weaknesses, parts that the fake centaur would have more difficulty healing.


    But there were none. Every limb and organ stolen was restored without pause.


    Her species, whatever it was, was not so easily slain.


    Recognizing that they were locked in stalemate, Sophia purged her stolen centaur parts and kicked them towards the lyrkress. Claire flung the carcass out of the way to reveal the arcane bolt behind it. The spell exploded as soon as it was revealed, flooding her vision with a wall of red. But even that was displaced, shifted seven meters up, out of her line of sight.


    The caldriess followed without delay, pumping her wings as she became a missile. While the Cadrian standard would have been to adjust her own trajectory, she opted to change her opponent¡¯s instead.


    Sophia was pulled right into her path and forced to bear the weight of her talons as they plummeted to the ground. The supposed shark¡¯s flesh scattered far and wide, but her body continued to heal and Claire continued to strike her.


    She pummeled and smashed with her talons, stomped with her hooves, bashed with her tail, and struck with her lizard.


    Nothing worked, not even after she threw a fistful of points in strength and pushed it past the hundred thousand threshold.


    Sophia healed more damage than she took, even though the Boris in her gut was draining her health all the while. She was even more durable than the god of trolls. He may have been a shadow, but his regeneration was his greatest strength and she clearly saw him outdone.


    The Cadrian assassin turned to mist as Claire¡¯s frustration reached its peak, but Claire didn¡¯t allow her to escape. She magically seized the individual particles and forced them back together, just so she could whale on her again.


    But it was still no use.


    At best, she could stop her from moving.


    At worst, she was wasting her time and losing a battle of endurance.


    There was no choice. She had to play the rest of her cards.


    Taking a deep breath, Claire reeled back her head and prepared to destroy her circuits. Her blood spilled as the magic gathered in her lungs. Her circuitry cracked as she prepared the attack. Bit by bit, it shattered. The colour drained from each of her extremities as her mana gathered in her throat.


    Even without unleashing the spell, it felt like she was being torn apart.


    Noticing the opening Sophia backed away and turned to mist again. She scattered her body to the winds and evenly spread her consciousness throughout their surroundings. She should have been untouchable, undetectable even. But she soon found every individual particle pulled back towards a single point in space.


    Her surroundings were unaffected. It was only the pieces of her body that were taken, dragged into the gravitational anomaly two feet from the qiligon¡¯s maw.


    She panicked when Claire exhaled, desperately pushing herself away from the magic-rich air. She was unable to escape it. But at the same time, she was unaffected.


    At first, she thought that she was safe, that the spell had failed on account of her intangible form. Nothing happened, even three seconds after she suffered the attack. She was able to speed away unscathed until the magic triggered.


    Everything that the breath had touched was deleted, overwritten, and replaced by a giant slab of ice whose existence lasted all of two seconds. When the timer ticked down, the ice was rapidly dispersed, transformed into a powdery snow that further faded into nonexistence.


    Log Entry 853793


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been partially restored.


    Your titular class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has reached level 25.


    You have acquired 2000 ability points.


    Claire had clearly gained a fistful of experience.


    But somehow, even though Sophia had been erased, she was denied the kill.

 Chapter 368 - The Call of the Northern Sky

    Chapter 368 - The Call of the Northern Sky


    Claire watched curiously as the forest beneath her was rapidly restored. What started as a crater with a fox in the middle was quickly filled with earth. It was not the illusory material that most of her usual spells produced, but real dirt. Some was brought in from other parts of the woodland¡ªa mix of leaves, branches, and soil¡ªwhile the rest was dug up from a layer further down. She uncompacted the bedrock, crushing it together with the biomass to form a layer of nutrient-rich soil.


    If left as is, the fresh compost would only be eroded by the wind and carried back into the forest, but the tree¡¯s roots extended at the fox¡¯s behest and anchored the restored section in place. The very same racial magic that forced the verdant expansion inspired growth in the surrounding greenery. One by one, the plants near the edge of the clearing went into full bloom. A wave of vectors drew the reproductive cells from their sources and spread them all around in a storm of dust and spores.


    The cycle repeated six times. Each was driven by a new generation of plants, and the resulting seeds paced closer and closer to the zone¡¯s center. In just a few minutes, it was complete. The once-excavated patch was turned into a clearing, a meadow with small trees sparsely growing within, ready to tower over the field as soon as the decades passed.


    Claire landed as soon as the process was complete. A markedly unconscious Jules was the only other person present. Krail and Lana were still wading through the forest, and the others were aboard the ship. The flying castle was slowly going through its disembarkment procedures. It would be a while before the elevator was active.


    ¡°Done?¡± asked the lyrkress, as she turned into a humanoid.


    ¡°Mhm. All done.¡± The fox lifted her butt and gave her back a stretch. Claire picked her up in the middle of the extension and pulled her into a hug. Sylvia happily leaned into the embrace, only to stop and perk up as she realized that it was looser than usual. ¡°Are you hurt?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnnn¡­ That sounds like a lie.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Mhm. Totally.¡± Sylvia sighed as she cast a healing spell on the moose and fixed her wounds. Most were internal, courtesy of the nature of the supposed kelpfin¡¯s attacks. Torn ligaments and ruptured organs made up most of her injuries. Her bones surely would have been broken had she been anyone else, but the worst she experienced was a dislocation. ¡°There. All better.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on.¡± The half-elf puffed up her cheeks. ¡°Now you¡¯re being stubborn.¡±


    Claire squeezed her pet a little harder. ¡°Thanks, Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re very welcome,¡± said the furball. She spun around, wrapped her paws around the qiligon¡¯s neck, and rested her chin on her shoulder. There was a big smile on her face, spread from cheek to cheek.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Comforting you.¡± She buried her face even deeper in the other halfbreed¡¯s nape. ¡°You fought really hard today.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t that bad,¡± said Claire. ¡°I don¡¯t need comforting.¡±


    Sylvia sighed. ¡°You don¡¯t have to act so tough. The fighting¡¯s already over, and I¡¯m the only one here.¡±


    ¡°Jules is here.¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t count! He¡¯s not even conscious!¡±


    ¡°He still exists.¡± A soft laugh escaped Claire¡¯s throat as she allowed herself to fall back into the grass. She spread her arms wide, burying them amidst the blooming flowers. ¡°You fought today too.¡±


    ¡°Mhm.¡± Sylvia rolled to the side and assumed her humanoid form as she hit the grass. She was just far enough away for the tips of their fingers to touch. A warm, reassuring presence. ¡°Just a little.¡±


    ¡°You sank nineteen ships.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I only really cast like three spells.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s three more than I wanted you to cast.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really think I had a choice, this time.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Claire rolled over and stole the half-elf¡¯s giant, puffy tail. ¡°But still.¡± The lyrkress sank her face into the fluff and ran her fingers through the fine hairs, tracing the individual strands all the way down to their roots.


    ¡°Now you¡¯re just being silly,¡± said Sylvia, with a giggle. She rolled over as well and poked the smaller girl¡¯s nose.


    ¡°I know.¡±


    There was a moment of silence, filled only by the evening wind. For a while, it remained unbroken, even as the half-elf tackled the snake and pulled her into a cuddle.


    A little closer than before, they turned their eyes skyward and watched the glimmering heavens. It was a beautiful night. Yrild-ikurh had cleared the clouds and provided a perfect canvas through which they could watch the stars. A bright nebula cut across the aether, coloured in blues, oranges, purples, and reds. Its light was only second to Griselda¡¯s, with both brilliant objects outshining all others within their celestial embrace.


    ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Mhm?¡±


    ¡°I think I''m going to ask Alfred to fix my circuits.¡±


    ¡°H-huh!?¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice. ¡°R-really!?¡±


    ¡°I need to heal. I need my spirit guardians, I need my breath, and I need my realm.¡± She squeezed the tail a little harder. ¡°I can''t keep fighting like this. Not if I¡¯m to face my father.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s gonna see you naked!¡±


    ¡°With how much he spies on me, us, I doubt that¡¯s anything new. In the first place, it¡¯s not that weird for a doctor to ask a patient to strip.¡±


    ¡°H-he¡¯s totally gonna ogle. Like, lots. Way more than anyone should.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°People ogle at me all the time. Everyone stares at my ears, even though they all know they shouldn¡¯t. You¡¯ve seen how the Cadrians behave.¡±


    ¡°I-I mean, I guess. But he¡¯s gonna be super weird about it.¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°Why are you making excuses? You¡¯re the one who told me he could do it in the first place.¡±


    ¡°I-I know, but¡­¡±


    ¡°But?¡±


    Sylvia didn¡¯t answer. She only pulled Claire closer and buried her face in her hair.


    The lyrkress sighed. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll think about it some more.¡±


    There was still no verbal response, only the tiniest of nods, pressed right into her shoulder.


    They stayed like that for a while, with Claire nearly drifting off to sleep. She only managed to retain her consciousness because she could hear the others coming. Krail and Lana had made it into the clearing, with the former panting his lungs out and the latter nonchalant.


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    ¡°It looks like you managed to come out ahead without us,¡± wheezed the elf. ¡°To be honest, I wasn¡¯t sure what to expect. The last time I¡¯ve seen something as powerful as that spell of yours was the ti¡ª¡±


    ¡°Enough.¡± Claire pinched the elf¡¯s tongue. ¡°I¡¯m trying not to sleep right now.¡±


    ¡°Well, in that case, I¡¯d suggest sitting up,¡± said the elf, indignantly. ¡°And I wouldn¡¯t exactly say my stories are for bedtime use in the first place. They¡¯re a lot more exciting than sorts of the things you¡¯d use in place of lullabies.¡±


    ¡°I must admit, they are often quite entertaining,¡± said Arciel. She joined the group as the battleship¡¯s elevator made its way to the ground. Her voice was markedly shaky, and though she was trying to stay strong, her expression was every bit as grim as her maid¡¯s.


    The pair had arrived alongside a trio of corpses, placed upon a trolley transformed into a makeshift stretcher.


    Chloe carefully laid the bodies down in the soil, one next to the other with their faces up, their hands on their chests, and eyes carefully closed. None of the corpses was stained with blood. All three had been wiped down and cleaned, their wounds the only signs of their violent ends. Even those had been covered up at least. Panda and Matthias each had a blanket over their abdomens, whereas Ace had been stitched back together.


    ¡°How?¡± asked Lana, quietly.


    ¡°Let us first ensure that we are all awake before engaging in any discussion,¡± she said. Her voice was low, the words spoken so quietly that they were easily missed.


    ¡°Gimme a sec,¡± said Sylvia. Hopping to her feet and dragging Claire with her, she grabbed the clam¡¯s outer rim and rattled him until he rose from his slumber.


    The man was still groggy. It took him a moment to rise, and he kept a hand against his brow even as he did. He was groaning aloud, struggling with a violent headache. And it was no wonder. He had only been barely hanging onto life by the time the fox had retrieved and fixed him. Falling to the ground had completely shattered his shell and splattered its contents all over the makeshift crater. Needless to say, his consciousness had vanished somewhere in the middle, and it wasn¡¯t exactly ready to be returned.


    ¡°What the fuck do you want?¡± He slowly opened his eyes when he was met with silence, and took a long, careful look at the corpses. ¡°Shit, eh?¡±


    ¡°My thoughts exactly,¡± agreed Krail. ¡°It seems we¡¯ve reached an unfortunate impasse.¡±


    Jules scanned the clearing. ¡°Where¡¯s the girl? I know they killed her already bu¡ª¡±


    ¡°Sophia was never slain,¡± said Arciel. ¡°It was she who stole their lives.¡±


    ¡°Her? Really?¡± Krail took an audible breath. ¡°She¡¯s pretty much the last one I would¡¯ve suspected.¡±


    ¡°I am equally as appalled,¡± admitted the queen.


    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose any of the rivers around here lead all the way out to sea?¡± asked the elf, his eyes on the corpses.


    ¡°We tried looking when we were up high, but we couldn¡¯t find any,¡± said Chloe.


    It was a Vel¡¯khanese tradition that demanded the waterway. Their funerals were not particularly elaborate, but they were based on the idea that the sea was the source of life. By sending their fallen back out towards it, they could return their bodies to the flow, as the goddess so kindly did for their souls.


    ¡°I can fly them out,¡± said Claire. ¡°The coast isn¡¯t too far.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps not,¡± said Arciel. ¡°But I wish to observe the standard tradition. They deserve that, at least.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm, in that case, I can probably spin up a river real quick,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Either that, or we can fly around for a bit and find one.¡±


    ¡°I would not be against creation. It would be an honour for a fresh river to be carved in their names,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Have we any objections?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got one. We should be saving all this for later,¡± said Jules. ¡°We need to get our shit in order.¡± There were some mixed reactions from the crowd, but he ignored them and continued. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t have wanted us to get hung up on their account.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m gonna have to agree with the clam on that one. The longer you sit around, the more time and money you waste.¡± The statement came from a little further away. When they turned toward its source, they found a morbidly obese raccoon wandering out of a brush. He clearly wasn¡¯t the same individual that lay bloodless in front of them. Even disregarding his gargantuan waistline, he couldn¡¯t have possibly been Panda; he was only two-thirds his height and his fur was completely devoid of soot. But at the same time, they found it impossible to deny his identity. His voice and his mannerisms were exactly the same.


    ¡°Was that the last of them?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°For now, I think,¡± said the sphere. ¡°Based on how long it¡¯s taking me to pick up some of the news, I¡¯m thinking they managed to figure out a way through my information network. I¡¯ll probably need a week or two to get it filled in.¡±


    ¡°Do it faster,¡± said Claire. ¡°Two weeks is a long time to go without reliable information.¡±


    ¡°Sure, if you pay me. The total¡¯s gonna be a hundred spears, twenty swords and seven daggers, plus maybe an extra ten percent or so if you want it up within the next three days.¡±


    ¡°Put it on my father¡¯s tab.¡±


    ¡°Ain¡¯t gonna work. I need cash.¡±


    ¡°Take it from my father¡¯s wallet.¡±


    ¡°Trust me, I would if I could.¡±


    ¡°I require an explanation,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I presume this to be the case from Claire¡¯s behaviour, but are you truly the Panda with whom we have been in contact?¡±


    ¡°In the flesh.¡±


    ¡°Did you not sacrifice yourself earlier?¡±


    ¡°I did, yeah.¡±


    Arciel furrowed her brow. ¡°I do not understand.¡±


    ¡°What, you never seen a guy buy back his life before?¡±


    ¡°The god of death would never allow it,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Who says I went through that loser?¡± said the raccoon, with a laugh. ¡°All you¡¯d get from dealing with him is an angry rejection.¡±


    ¡°Putting that matter aside,¡± the squid glanced at Claire, ¡°were you aware of his impending resurrection?¡±


    ¡°No. But he¡¯s the type that only cares about himself.¡±


    Ciel sighed. ¡°Even with that being the case, I must say that the inscrutability of your face remains terrifying as ever.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure she only gets harder to read when she¡¯s surprised,¡± said Sylvia. She finally let go of Claire¡¯s hand and moved over to the raccoon¡¯s former shell, which she prodded with her foot. ¡°So uhmm¡­ what¡¯re we supposed to do with this? Are we getting rid of it, or what?¡±


    ¡°Just leave it. I still need it for something later,¡± said Panda. ¡°More importantly, there¡¯s something you¡¯ll have to figure out before you head any further north.¡±


    ¡°And what, precisely, is it that you are referring to?¡± asked Ciel.


    ¡°Your headcount,¡± said Panda. ¡°You¡¯re down to five.¡±


    ¡°Not a problem,¡± said Claire. ¡°If you play your hand.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not so sure about that one,¡± said the raccoon. ¡°I¡¯m not much of a fighter, and I don¡¯t exactly stand to profit.¡±


    ¡°Then find me someone who is. There has to be someone in your organization worth their salt if you¡¯re capable of outwitting my father¡¯s spymasters.¡±


    The raccoon tapped a foot against the floor. ¡°I dunno. I was actually thinking about pulling out of this whole operation of yours. It hasn¡¯t exactly been paying the best dividends.¡±


    ¡°Knock it off.¡± Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°I know you¡¯re just trying to get more than you deserve.¡±


    ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t exactly be a very good merchant if I wasn¡¯t, would I?¡± he said, with a laugh.


    ¡°Then we¡¯re fine. Chloe makes seven,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Wait, me!? Why me!?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the only one left.¡±


    ¡°Sylvia¡¯s right there!¡± said the maid. ¡°She¡¯s clearly the better choice.¡±


    ¡°I do understand your apprehensions, Claire, but I must agree with Chloe. She did perform to an acceptable degree with Sylvia¡¯s enhancements, but I do not believe she is capable of gaining a sufficient amount of power in time,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Even your goddess thinks Chloe is the better choice,¡± said Claire. ¡°Sylvia never got Griselda¡¯s quest.¡±


    The queen lightly tapped her fan against her chin. ¡°I do suppose I see your point. Perhaps we can come to a compromise?¡±


    The snake-horse narrowed her eyes. ¡°Explain.¡±


    ¡°If Chloe is capable of reaching a racial level of nine hundred prior to the tournament¡¯s commencement, then I shall acquiesce. If not, then we shall opt for Sylvia in her stead.¡±


    Claire paused. ¡°Fine.¡± She turned to the maid in question. ¡°I¡¯ll have her done by our third month in Cadria.¡±


    ¡°H-huh!? Third month!?¡± cried the maid. Her face paled as she looked between the royals.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry.¡± Claire put on her most innocent smile. ¡°It¡¯ll be a lot easier than it sounds.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about!? Eight-fifty¡¯s supposed a straight plateau! How do you expect me to break past that!?¡±


    The maid started squawking about something or other, but the lyrkress¡¯ attention had already been shifted elsewhere. She squeezed Sylvia¡¯s fingers, assumed her true form, and waited for the fox to board before shooting straight up towards the heavens.


    ¡°Claire!? Claire, get back here! You can¡¯t just run away without explaining anything! At least tell me what you¡¯re thinking!¡±


    Still ignoring the vampire, she gazed upon the mountains that ran along the horizon.


    It wasn¡¯t far now. They were only five borders away from the home she had abandoned. Cadria was calling, and she was ready to answer.


    All that was left was to cross the northern sky.

 Chapter 369 - The Muse, the Musclehead, and the Magus

    Chapter 369 - The Muse, the Musclehead, and the Magus


    The homunculus known to the public as Claire Augustus rose with the morning sun. She sat up in her bed at first light, feigning a few moments of sleepiness while her maids waited on the other side of her silken canopy. The fakery was an absolute necessity. She had to play Claire¡¯s part, and the material, weaved by the finest Kryddarian craftsmen, was thin enough for the maids to observe her directly. Knowing that, she snapped to attention after exactly 1.38 seconds of spacing out. She lightly shook her head and looked directly at the nearest servant, signalling that it was time to draw the curtain.


    All three of the ladies by her bedside got to work immediately. One began making her bed, while another helped her up and led her to the mirror in front of the dresser. Her nightgown was quickly removed, replaced by a gown with an awfully short skirt, while her hair was carefully curled. The more elaborate style would have been impossible when she first took Claire¡¯s place. But like the original, the replacement was growing out her hair. She felt bad for the maids, knowing that the longer locks were much more difficult to maintain, but they seemed to enjoy the chore. Even if that weren¡¯t the case, she would have been deadset on it regardless. She wanted to be more like her sister.


    Of course, they couldn¡¯t be identical. While Claire was out mowing down enemies¡ªleveling and ascending¡ªRubia was stuck at home, mowing through her worksheets instead. The construct¡¯s life was certainly less exciting, but she didn¡¯t mind. She experienced the original¡¯s fun every time their minds melded. By going through her sister¡¯s memories, by living out her every fight, she could feel the events as if they had happened to her. She could experience the violence, the thrill, the adrenaline, and the fear full throttle, all in perfect first person.


    The psychic link only accounted for half her satisfaction. The rest came from knowing the importance of her role. It was because she had taken Claire¡¯s place that her sister could run rampant.


    If the news ever leaked, if the people ever discovered that she was just a doll, a search would surely begin in earnest. The real Claire would eventually be captured, retrieved, and forced to sit through all of her homework and training. Someone had to carry out her duties in her place, and Rubia had long decided that such would be her purpose. She would preserve the true princess¡¯ freedom for as long as the falsehood would hold. She would continue to play the part of a perfect daughter.


    After getting dressed and decorated, following the mental reminder, she walked down the hall with her maids and began the day with a morning class.


    Her first activity was always physical, and it was to facilitate her movement that she had been dressed in a less modest gown. On some days, the lesson was spearmanship, and on others, it was dancing. But on that particular morning, Rubia was stuck with something a little less fun. Durham, her guard, had simply ordered her to run a lap around the castle. As far as routine tasks went, it was a fairly typical exercise¡ªthe castle¡¯s soldiers would run a hundred or so laps each morning as a warm-up¡ªbut for a tiny fake halfbreed with a set of utterly pathetic stats, it was a gruelling assignment. The track around the central space was over a dozen kilometres long and it would likely take a full two hours to complete.


    Still, she put on her shoes and kicked off the ground. She started with a paced, half-speed jog. She wasn¡¯t a fan of the gradual approach. She wanted to emulate her sister and break into a running start, but she knew better than to waste her stamina. Even with endurance in mind, she was likely to collapse before reaching the end.


    She didn¡¯t recognize all of the landmarks along the way. She had only lived in the castle for a few months so far, and it was just the one time a week she ran around it that she observed its exterior; her schedule was so packed that she rarely ever left the usual wing. In that sense, the run doubled as an opportunity, a rare chance to see the room outside her cage.


    The property¡¯s walls were still far away, with most of them blocked off by the massive hedges that grew within the gardens. Their height was derived from the size of their expected spectators. Centaurs could grow as tall as four meters, and some thorae were even larger. Hence why they sat precisely at the three meter mark. Though intuition attested otherwise, the height worked just as well for cottontails. The bipedal rabbits were small enough that the shrubs completely eclipsed them, invoking the feel of an emerald forest.


    It was only for elves, lamias, and bizarre exceptions like Rubia that it felt a little off. Alas, it couldn¡¯t be helped. The gardener-in-chief was proud of his design and stubborn as a bull; the old elf was unlikely to alter it lest there was a drastic shift in the visitors¡¯ demographics.


    The tradition had been unchanged for a thousand years, but it was possible that they would experience such a shift in time. Cadria¡¯s soldiers were ready for an extended war, and the nobility was practically thirsting for blood. That much, she knew from all the parties and private events. Rubia couldn''t speak in public, so she was free to listen to whatever she wanted so long as she nodded along when the other ladies addressed her, and most of the time, it was the gossip that caught her ear.


    She recalled the most horrifying prediction¡ªa rumour about an upcoming tea shortage¡ªas she came up on the first corner.


    Rounding it, she was suddenly struck with a sense of malaise. She shouldn''t pinpoint exactly what it was, but something felt wrong. She started turning her head, raising her ears, and scanning the environment for clues as her sister often did, but she couldn''t find anything worth noting; the sky was still the same, the gardens looked no different, and the castle was practically pristine. The feeling soon went away, leaving the homunculus to continue her leg-numbing trek undisturbed.


    But while her anxiety was easily abated, the same hardly applied to her guard. Roughly a hundred and fifty meters from her location, Durham breathed a sigh as he remarked on the princess¡¯ sharpness with a mangled corpse in his hands. The would-be assassin was no noteworthy fellow, just a peasant with a shoddy bow and no substantial combat experience. It was a wonder how he managed to slip past security.


    It was not the first time that he had encountered such a bizarre scenario. Infiltration was at a historical high. Throughout history, there had only ever been four enemies to enter its grounds, each of whom was a monstrous warrior too great for Canterbell¡¯s aegis to hold. That number had quintupled in the last few weeks alone, and nearly every offending individual matched the peasant¡¯s description. They were all nameless weaklings with shoddy weapons, and strangely enough, they were all after the princess.


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    The whole scenario was so outlandishly ridiculous that Durham was tempted to think it a prank. It made no sense for the incompetents to have invaded the castle grounds. Three airborne soldiers were assigned to every acre of land, and another dozen stood by each of the thirty-five checkpoints. The gates were the only entrances¡ªthe only holes through which an entity could invade without disabling all three of the ducal fortresses. So long as even one of them held, the shield was nigh impenetrable.


    Though true in many other cases, the soldiers themselves were hardly the weakest link. Each gate had an elite on standby as well as a pair specialized in enemy detection. Their characters were every bit as strong as the men themselves; only the most accomplished, decorated, and passionate patriots were allowed the privilege of overseeing the royal abode. They were the royal guard, and there was not a traitor or dissident among them.


    Every coach was thoroughly searched, and every person was carefully inspected, regardless of rank or reason. Even in the seemingly impossible case that someone snuck an assassin through, there would have been some sort of trail to follow. But Durham could find none. It was like the intruders had simply appeared in the places he found them.


    It could only have been an elaborate prank and one that Virillius had signed off on no less. But to what end, the guard remained oblivious.


    And frankly, uncaring.


    His job was to keep her safe. Asking questions was beyond the scope of his responsibility. That particular role was left to a certain grand magus, one that had moved far, far away.


    ___


    The grand magus that had moved far, far away watched the morning sun from atop a dirty windowsill. It had been over half a year since she departed from the capital and returned to her hometown. Sarnium was a tiny settlement of little importance, located roughly seventy-five kilometers from the city of Tornatus. Its headcount was but a pitiful five hundred. Had it not served as Allegra¡¯s origin, it surely would have gone down in history as nothing but another footnote.


    The settlement was one of the many that dotted the Aniere, a large river whose headwater could be found in the mountains of Kryddar. Sourced from a magical spring atop a floating island¡ªone of the few natural specimens the Cadrian warships were built to mimic¡ªit flowed through the southeastern parts of Cadria, supplying three of its provinces with fresh water before finding its way out to sea.


    Sarnium¡¯s main crops were essential grains and grasses. Barley and timothy were seen most commonly on farms, with cabbages and their derivatives serving to add variety. There were a few meat producers as well, though they were far less common. The amount of food a single cow provided could not possibly match up to the amount they required to grow, lest one were to ignore the animal welfare rules that the nation enforced.


    It was a complaint that many of the farmers shared, but Allegra herself cared little. She had never been all too invested in her community or its associated matters. Magic was of far greater importance. And it was precisely to do magic that she was seated where she was.


    The magus needed to stay as far from her cauldron as she could without losing sight of its contents. It was a matter of purity; she didn¡¯t want her mana to influence the potion brewing within.


    It was a problem she never needed to consider when she was still enlisted in the military. The items she crafted there could be as potent as she wanted. They were still sorted into grades based on precisely how much mana they provided, but there was use for each and every variety. The restoratives she crafted for the town, on the other hand, could only contain so much magic. There were very few capable of ingesting anything worth more than a thousand points and mana potions could only be taken in the proper doses. Correcting a batch that was too potent was a tedious chore more difficult than starting fresh; the amount of time she could spend by the cauldron was even less than it was when working from the ground up, and she had no intention of being responsible for any circuit damage resulting from improper overdosage.


    Her eyes naturally drifted south as she waited for the process to finish and settled upon the massive blade protruding from the horizon. It was impossible to miss. The weapon was taller than the city it had unilaterally consumed, with its total length estimated to be roughly two kilometers. It was impossible to say for certain without digging it up, and that was more effort than anyone had deemed worthwhile.


    The government¡¯s investigation had proved fairly fruitless. They were able to determine that it was made primarily of true ice with a few hints of another material buried deep underground, but there was little else that they concluded before deciding to back off. The magic within the item was still active, and no one was quite aware of any side effects that it would have on the workers.


    Allegra had been among the many who advocated for the investigation¡¯s end. One look, and she had identified its caster, and she knew that she of all people was certainly the type to hold a grudge.


    Though her magical spectrometers had shown a set of undeniable results, the cottontail still found herself in disbelief. She couldn¡¯t quite bring herself to believe that it was her. But at the same time, she was not entirely surprised.


    Claire was Virilius¡¯ daughter. Violet¡¯s daughter. And in a way, even hers and Durham¡¯s as well.


    She had found a way. Just as she had secretly hoped.


    But even knowing that, the rabbit pressed a hand to her chest and choked back a sniffle. She knew it was her fault, that she didn¡¯t deserve to cry for what she had done, but she couldn¡¯t stop her ears from drooping and her heart from reacting with a violent start.


    She had transformed Virillius¡¯ daughter into the killing machine that he had always wanted, despite having been a firm advocate against her weaponization.


    Ironically, it had all stemmed from her violence-averse approach. Allegra had pushed the girl into choosing ritual magic to keep her away from the battlefield and guard her from her father¡¯s machinations. It had seemed like a brilliant idea at the time, but though she had known him for over a thousand years, Allegra had completely failed in his evaluation. Despite her opposing judgement, he had gone ahead and used his daughter all the same.


    She was the only one to blame. She had been one of the only three people capable of steering Virillius on course. But like all the others, she had criminally refrained.


    Her lips trembled every time she looked upon the celestial blade. She could feel it, piercing her chest, parting her ribs, and ripping her heart to shreds. It was her fault. Tornatus was her fault. Claire was her fault. And she needed to do something to right the wrongs she wrought.

 Chapter 370 - Epilogue: Finis Coronat Opus

    Chapter 370 - Epilogue: Finis Coronat Opus


    The god-king of Cadria stifled a yawn as he flipped through his uncle¡¯s old notes. His eyes were lifeless, moving across the pages without a hint of motivation. The only thing that kept him going was spite, and even that was starting to dwindle. He had spent four entire months working through the mysterious documents with practically nothing to show. Over ninety percent of his observations had stemmed from the first few sessions and he hadn¡¯t made any discoveries of note in weeks.


    It was almost starting to look like he was at an impasse, like the writings meant nothing at all. As much as he doubted it, he couldn¡¯t help but suspect that his uncle was simply a mollusk-loving degenerate. But at the same time, he struggled to believe that the papers were truly his uncle¡¯s handiwork at all.


    The most jarring red flag was the level at which the text was written. Ferdinand may not have been a scholar, but he was a well-educated man with a good head on his shoulders. He was often responsible for preparing eloquent speeches and key government documents, and he was known for his impeccable, error-free work.


    The papers at hand, however, did not share that particular trait. The perfect penmanship certainly screamed Ferdinand, but the pages were riddled with spelling mistakes and grammatical mishaps. They were still legible with some effort, but they were clearly suspicious. The misspelled words most likely served as an input for some sort of coded message. It clearly wasn¡¯t a simple shift; Virillius had tried mapping every letter to every other, even knowing that it was a waste of time. The double letters and word lengths did not match with that of the standard Marish tongue.


    When it came to ciphers, his uncle was only really a fan of the vigen¨¨re in the first place, and if anything, he was more inclined to use one of those. Virillius tried every key previously used in a military application, as well as a number of others he presumed that the man might consider. But alas, he had no luck, so he switched up his approach. He tried everything else he could think of. He changed out the errors for keywords and built up a list that crossed document lines. He substituted the gibberish for symbols and even guessed with random words. But at the end of the day, he was left with nothing but senseless erotica.


    Sighing to himself, he continued to sort through the document in front of him, listing all errors of each type for his tracking purposes. He compiled them per paragraph, per page, and per document before tallying up the stats and seeing the same nonsense as usual. The number of each error type was random, fluctuating heavily from story to story. The only constant he found was the relative frequency; the grammatical mistakes were few and far between.


    He would have to include the sentences that contained them to get them to a comparable length to their spelling-based counterparts, though doing that netted him nearly double the page count.


    Sorting the errors into their own respective stats, Virillius tapped a finger against his desk. And then, suddenly, a realization. An epiphany.


    He began combing through the data immediately, organizing it based on the positions of the grammatical mistakes. The sentences were rarely cut in half by the random punctuation marks, but counting the characters and compiling said counts provided a shocking revelation. Their lengths were the same. If spaces were excluded, the sum of the number of characters in each sentence, prior to a grammatical error, was the same as the number of characters that followed to its end. And both were greater than the total length of all the spelling errors combined.


    He had found his key. Or rather, his keys.


    The way forward was clear. Ferdinand had used the vigen¨¨re approach, just with an extra twist. First, he encrypted them with one key, and then, he decrypted them with the other. It didn¡¯t make sense the first time around, nor when he tried with the second key. But by reversing the second key, and then decrypting with the first as is, he finally cracked his uncle¡¯s code.


    The output was not perfect. As was the case with the input, some of the words were missing letters, while others had extra inserted, likely so that they would work better with the cipher.


    But even with its spelling thrown off, the message was loud and clear.


    Constantius was alive.


    He was living in the Pollux Marsh.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    He had disguised himself as a farmhand named Stanley.


    And as Virillius had always known, he was a master of bird and beast.


    ___


    The goddess of the eternal flow watched quietly as an infinite amount of text scrolled across her terribly finite display. Each line that appeared on her monitor was an explicit event, something that happened in the world, significant enough to leave a mark in the system¡¯s books. Green acquisitions and red executions were among the most common records, second only to the grey bits of telemetry that raced across the foreground.


    The amount of information and the rate of its production was far too great for any mortal mind. It captured everything that occurred in all seven realms at every single instant in time. Most of them were filtered or otherwise handled automatically, with Flux only needing to address a few hundred entries each second herself. All things considered, it was a slow day. And perhaps that was why she noticed a certain soul the moment it entered the pipe, even though it was the sort she would have normally overlooked.


    With a gentle flick, she pulled it from the queue and piped it through the manual process. Said process was typically reserved for her believers, but she saw no harm in engaging. The deceased mortal had piqued her interest, her agenda was practically empty, and Altea rarely processed her chosen in person. She likely would have taken him already had she the intention; Flux was free to do as she pleased.


    ¡°Klint Harper. Welcome to the hall of passing.¡± She slowly walked towards him as a grand hall formed around them, her steps echoing off the non-existent walls.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± he said, quietly. The two-legged lizard stayed on one knee as he gazed upon the celestial chamber. It had started as a hall only in name, featuring only a marble floor with stone pillars along its sides, but the walls soon phased into reality. They were porcelain white, made of the same godly stone as the supports and ceiling.


    It was one of the rarer reactions¡ªfor most, the hall¡¯s construction was hardly the most pressing concern¡ªbut the man, the Ace of Diamonds, was not lost in the sorrow of death.


    He wasn¡¯t without grief¡ªno one was¡ªbut Klint was content enough to meet the deity¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Never thought it¡¯d be the goddess of the flow that I¡¯d see at the very end.¡±


    ¡°I do not see any reason for you to complain,¡± she said. ¡°Was it not precisely the twists and turns like this one that gave your life its meaning?¡±


    The man shrugged. ¡°Guess so, Goddess. But I ain¡¯t alive anymore, am I?¡±


    ¡°I suppose not.¡± The goddess smiled. It was a loving, motherly look, even though the mortal was far from one of her own. ¡°Do you have any regrets?¡±


    For a moment, only truly the briefest of moments, Klint¡ªAce¡ªclenched his fists, curled his tail, and gritted his teeth. But then he took a breath and closed his eyes. Allowing the stress to leave his body, he faced the goddess with a goofy, boyish smile. A smile he hadn¡¯t worn in a long, long time.


    ¡°Y¡¯know what, Goddess? I don¡¯t think I do.¡±


    She watched him for a few brief seconds, giving him a chance to change his mind before she nodded her head.


    A single portal opened in the space behind her, a swirling, cosmic mass, dyed with purples and blues.


    He advanced without any explicit instruction. His first step was swift, without hesitation, but he paused briefly right after, to look at the goddess who smiled at him again.


    It was her reward, a final treat for the man who had unwittingly served her purpose.


    Every step was accompanied by a memory, a view into his life from another lens.


    He saw his mother look so affectionately upon him as he hatched in the nest beneath her. He saw the pride in his father¡¯s eyes when he first took up the sword, as well as the worry that he always tried so hard to hide. He saw all the work his mother put into supporting his growth, the little pictures she drew on his birthday cakes commending his various achievements. He saw the long hours his father worked, the extra battles he fought and the risks he took to see their livelihoods supported.


    He saw and remembered it all.


    When he raised his head again, he saw them waiting in the portal. They stood shoulder to shoulder, smiling, waiting for him at the edge of the great beyond.


    His brothers and sisters were there as well, standing tall, having watched over their oldest sibling to the very end.


    They didn¡¯t say a word.


    But he knew.


    They were proud of him and the life he led. Just as he had been of theirs.


    His feet grew faster.


    Before he knew it, he found himself sprinting towards the portal, into the arms of the fair maiden waiting just beyond the gate.


    They hadn¡¯t been joined in life.


    But she was there.


    Waiting.


    Just as she promised, when she had gone ahead.

 Volume 5 Art Gallery

    As I''m sure you can see, art galleries are now at the end of the volume! Now I don''t have to spoiler tag them. Wahoo. Anyway, without further ado...


    Volume 5 Cover by Nasu


    Flitzegarde Sketch by Nasu


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Claire with Lia''s Diary by AmeKaichou


    Armoured Claire by Shiuw0


    Freshly Ascended Chloe Holding Arciel''s Panties (Glasses and no glasses variants) by sualt98


    And finally, a throwback to Volume 3! Vel''khagan by Fulminaire

 Chapter 371 - Prologue: A Web of Schemes and Lies

    Chapter 371 - Prologue: A Web of Schemes and Lies


    A massive ogre with a bee-like posterior slowly drew a four-meter bow as he observed his prey. His muscular, emerald-green arms flexed as he pulled his arrow as far as it would go. He had the perfect shot. He was positioned atop a steep cliff and he had the sun to his back. Even if his prey were to raise its head and gaze upon him, it would no doubt be blinded by the brilliant light. And yet, the hunter did not loose his arrow. He stayed perfectly still, doing his best to blend into the rock atop which he was hidden. He knew that it alone was unlikely to kill. To secure the massive, winged tiger, he would need much more than a bladed twig.


    He had known that coming into the operation. That was why his body was covered in grey cloth. It was meant to hide his frame so he could blend into the gorge and stalk his prey. The nocked arrow had been a test of its sensitivity, a check to see if the beast¡¯s instincts would respond to his open bloodlust. And surely enough, the canyon¡¯s master briefly glanced in the hunter¡¯s direction before returning to its usual business with a snort. All three of its tails continued to swish about carefree, the blades at their tips ripping the surrounding stone apart.


    Lucius Hyacinth¡ªthe hunter¡ªtook a breath as he lowered his bow and returned his arrow to its quiver. His quarry was sharp. He was going to need a completely different approach.


    It was then, as he looked away, that the monster suddenly closed the distance. It appeared beside the ledge with its wings silently flapping. They were as silent as an owl¡¯s, despite the beast¡¯s ridiculous scale.


    It bore down on him without mercy, claws first, jaws open. He barely reacted in time, catching its forelimb with his own largely by virtue of luck.


    Even standing at four meters tall, he was less than half its height. And yet, he managed to block the blow. His muscles bulging, his tattoos glowing, he caught the beast¡¯s paw midswing with a strike of the fist and ducked out of the way of its teeth. He nearly reached for the holy weapon at his waist, but he changed his mind as he recalled his objective. His God had tasked him with retrieving the beast¡¯s pelt. And Lucius intended to deliver.


    Leaping over a swipe with his trunk-like legs, he grabbed the tiger¡¯s neck and swung up onto its back. He made a mad dash for its wings, but it flung him off with a twirl before he could close the distance. His body spinning and off-balance, he was unable to evade the tail driven towards his neck.


    The wound healed before he hit the ground, but the thoraen warrior was annoyed all the same. He leapt up again and grabbed the tiger¡¯s foot. He ignored all of the bladed tails flying towards him as he mustered up his strength and threw the beast into the side of the cliff.


    Together, they tumbled, and together, they sprang into action again. Over and over, the fighters clashed, with neither taking any substantial damage. It was a fight that lasted for days. The sun set and rose, and the brilliant blue sky gave way to a cloudy rain. Still, they fought, with the number of spectators ever-growing.


    It was only natural that they would wish to bear witness.


    One party was a vicious beast, feared throughout the land as one to whom even the local warriors fell prey. There was not a single giant in the nation capable of standing against it. It had even eaten Vyk Fornestead¡ªthe prince himself¡ªdespite his former status as a hero of great renown. The other was Kael¡¯ahruus¡¯ champion, a man hand-picked by one of the greatest gods to demonstrate the deity¡¯s methods and embody his ideology.


    Everyone expected the man to emerge victorious, for there to be a new legend written like those of old. But after ten days and ten nights, they collapsed side by side.


    There was a moment of silence as the audience stared in disbelief. It was a tie. Both fighters were exhausted and neither could be pronounced the victor.


    Some members considered slaying the beast in its downtime, but none dared to claim the final blow. To interrupt the battle was blasphemy of the highest order. They would no doubt be cursed by the god of the hunt and condemned to a life barred from his quarry.


    That was when a boy in the crowd had a sudden idea, a way to tilt the scales in the hunter¡¯s favour without interfering directly. He was but a poor orphan with little to give, a child whose parents were stolen by the beast, but he tore a piece of his bread and threw it into the valley.


    Spurred on by his charity, the rest of the crowd soon followed suit. The idle observers dumped their snacks and rations down the side of the cliff so that the warrior might have the opportunity to regain his vigour. But while he certainly recovered and returned to his feet, he did not move to finish the beast. He presented it with a slab of dried meat instead, allowing it to join him in feasting.


    It was hardly the most correct choice with victory in mind, but he could not fathom any other. Through the extended battle, the Cadrian hunter had gained a great respect for his foe. He may not have used his god-given weapons, but he still had his god-given might. And in spite of it, they were evenly matched. Curiously, it seemed that the tiger harboured a similar sense of respect. The proud creature did accept his sympathy, but rather than taking up a stance and resuming the battle, or even just walking away, it lowered its head and bowed. It began to glow as it did, a powerful, brilliant gold. Power gushed from its core, pulsing through its body as Kael¡¯ahruss¡¯ divinity took hold.


    And on that day, at that moment, the tiger was remade, given life and purpose anew. By the time the light faded, the feral monster was gone, replaced by the divine beast forever known as the champion¡¯s companion.


    Together, they would hunt.


    Together, they would seek the end of Claire Augustus.


    ___


    The warlord who ruled Cadria¡¯s southeastern province scratched the back of his head as he felt a sensation equally foreign and familiar. The strange prickling normally only affected a specific part of his body, usually his head or his heart, but on that particular evening, he felt it equally in every cell at once. And though its intensity was run through a filter and greatly reduced, it was nearly strong enough to render him unconscious.


    He was so surprised that, for a little while, he simply sat still and did nothing. He took his time to parse the sensation, taking deep breaths to calm his rapidly-beating heart.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    One of his children had been terminated. And through their entanglement, he had experienced her death. From what he gathered¡ªthe memories were oddly broken and distorted even though they were usually crystal clear¡ªNumber Fourteen had been evaporated by a spell in spite of her intangibility. And for the time being that was all the information he was able to pull from her final moments.


    It would take a few days for him to restore her consciousness, though there was a chance that even that would not allow him to confirm her killer. The skill that allowed him to restore his spawn was yet imperfect, and many of them came out with their minds half scrambled. It was a coin toss as to which memories were retained. She would likely lose most of the memories associated with her infiltration as well, but that was even less of a concern. He had already received her report; she had used Pollux¡¯s communication devices to write a detailed analysis of the enemies inbound.


    From the point of view of most other sentient species, Lord Ephesus was a cold-hearted father, but he didn¡¯t mind the label. In the first place, to call him a father was a misnomer, just as it was to describe her as his daughter. That was not to say they weren¡¯t parent and child¡ªEphesus had certainly spawned Number Fourteen some thirty years prior¡ªbut so too were they one and the same.


    Number Fourteen had practically been a perfect copy of the original when she first split off, with all of her stats, skills, and memories identical. Her personality was the only thing separate. While Ephesus was every bit as willful, ambitious, and cunning as all true lorputi, his clones were without any drive or desire. It couldn¡¯t be helped. To produce a child with its own will, he would have to find an unrelated individual and perform an exchange of genetics. Ephesus had no such interest. Even one such exchange at any point in his life would forever remove his ability to produce subservient clones.


    Again, it was a decision that would have led to some minor judgement, and again, Ephesus didn¡¯t care. He was far more concerned with the manner of his other self¡¯s death than the fact that she had died. He needed to know who killed her and how, so he could avoid the same fate himself, or perhaps find some way around the weakness that had led to her defeat.


    With that thought in mind and his heart finally calmed, Ephesus sat up in his chair and turned his eyes to his so-called daughter¡¯s final report.


    Scouring through the pages in his mind¡ªhe had already memorized all of their contents¡ªhe recalled each of the enemy combatants and their strengths and weaknesses. From what he had gathered, it was likely the fox that killed her, but ¡®Constantius¡¯ was also a possibility.


    A laugh rang through his chest as he thought of the faker again. He was certainly caught off guard, but frankly, hearing the news had only led to disappointment. His master¡¯s daughter was worth nothing. He was beginning to doubt that it was really she who had levelled Tornatus to begin with. There were a few traces of the fox¡¯s magic present at the scene, and at least according to his offspring, the halfbreed had crippled herself in making the massive blade. If he had to guess, the weapon was her only contribution.


    She wouldn¡¯t make a good match for his Master.


    The fox was the only one that could possibly pose a challenge, the only one who could force his master to reveal his hand, the only one who could last long enough for the audience to understand the sheer depth of the god-king¡¯s prodigious might.


    He needed her to take the stage. And he needed a way to remove the nuisance before she ruined everything by trying to challenge her father.


    The data suggested that she could only be around level eight hundred at most, nine hundred or nine-fifty if her classes were inefficient. She may have been raised in the ideal environment, but everyone knew that she was utterly incompetent. He didn¡¯t doubt for a second that her classes lacked the Royal Cadrian modifier.


    After all, his clone had been without a particularly functional body, and it was only in those that their species could truly excel.


    Whatever the case, the end result was the same. He couldn¡¯t let her go up against her father.


    And it just so happened that assassination was one of the many arts that he had long mastered.


    ___


    Vella, the goddess of war, breathed a sigh as she perused an update on the state of the seven realms. It was a newsletter produced by the celestial thereof, sent out to the pantheon at exactly eight in the morning on the first day of each week. As the demigod in charge of the historical record, Zane was the opposite of lazy. He presented every important event in an easy-to-digest form; it only took a few seconds to internalize all the matters he reported.


    Vella took much longer. She carefully scrutinized the divine tabloid, sweeping her many eyes over its form as she pinned it in place with her giant metal legs. She made sure to glean all the information she could, analyzing each event to ensure that nothing was overlooked.


    It was an important part of her usual routine. She needed to keep tabs on her enemies and she lacked the time she needed to do all the research herself. Of course, Zane¡¯s work was only surface-level. His writings functioned more as news articles than they did academic papers, and there was only really so much she could learn, even reading between the lines. Still, it was good enough. A careful look or two sufficed to confirm if there was anything that required further attention.


    With the chore finally out of the way, the arachne kicked the board out of sight and returned her eyes to the panels floating in the space around her. There were enough of them to completely mask the Hall of Heroes, the grand temple that served as the goddess¡¯ domain, and each featured a view of the world, focused on an entity therein.


    She was following the most interesting warriors in each of the mortal realms. While some of them were certainly considered the mightiest in their respective domains, many were of little renown. It was not necessarily the extent of one¡¯s abilities that garnered the goddess¡¯ interest. Anyone could gain levels¡ªthat was quite literally why dungeons existed to begin with¡ªbut most struggled to draw out their potential.


    That was why, after quickly scanning most of her bookmarks, she turned her eyes to one Virillius Augustus. Her cheeks glowed as she watched him, even though he was doing very little of note. The moose-based cervitaur in question was seated at his desk, sorting through a stack of papers with a hand pressed against the side of his face. He occasionally ruffled his silver hair and fiddled with his darkened horns, but otherwise, he was perfectly still.


    She knew it wouldn¡¯t be long. There was less than a year until he stepped onto the battlefield, and there was sure to be another war to follow. The Western Alliance was rife with fear. Cadria was not only a military monstrosity, but an economic giant with heavy investment in education and scholarly pursuits. Its sway was ever-growing.


    The seventeen-member alliance was hardly blind to the superpower¡¯s machinations. Cadria¡¯s tendrils were stretching ever further south, extending each time their envoys demonstrated the boons of cooperation.


    There wasn¡¯t much time for them to act, but the tournament would certainly provide a window. The nation¡¯s warriors would surely flood the capital to witness the war by proxy. And in doing so, they would leave the west wide open. The alliance would have a rare chance to strike at the nation¡¯s undefended side, to claim the continent¡¯s breadbasket for its own and secure more high-level dungeons.


    It was precisely to support said plan that Vella had recently taken action. She chose seventeen fighters, one from each allied state, and bestowed a series of powerful blessings and an equally powerful set of demonic urges. They were all souls in which she saw great potential, but only time would tell if they could meet her expectations.


    She could only hope that they would push Virillius as he had never been pushed before. Perhaps hard enough that she could see the full extent of his might. Or perhaps even further, so that he might arrive in her hall and fulfill her fervent desire.


    Her heart was aflutter. She couldn¡¯t wait.


    Her web was ready; the pesky lion could do nothing to stop her.

 Chapter 372 - Giants, Raccoons, and Giant Raccoons

    Chapter 372 - Giants, Raccoons, and Giant Raccoons


    Claire stared at the sun as it slowly worked its way over the horizon. Her position in the sky allowed a perfect view of the Skarnian city beneath her. It was one of the only five that dotted the tiny nation. But while certainly far from numerous, the massive bazaar towns remained hubs of mercantile activity. Even without raising her giant ears overhead, she could hear the streets, already bustling in spite of the early hour.


    Both of the fuzzy triangles drooped, hanging off the side of her head with their tips angling down towards her shoulders. Had the incline been any steeper, they surely would have touched, but their natural springiness prevented them from falling all the way. They were dyed the same colour as her hair, a silvery, arctic blue tinted with a touch of silver.


    To an observer that shared her nationality, they were her most striking features, even more eye-catching than the icy shard that protruded from her chest and the sapphire slit eyes that adorned her unsmiling face. While her expression remained ever cold and controlled, her mood could be read through the gentle embrace that captured the fox in her taloned arms. It was almost as telltale a sign as her mesmerizing tail. Covered in the same silvery-blue scales scattered across the rest of her body, it lightly waved to and fro, its fluffy tip swaying in the early morning wind.


    It had been two days since they had escaped the Cadrians¡¯ grasp. Pollux¡¯s forces were dead, with everything from the servants to the military records to the ships themselves consumed by her favourite pet. Pollux¡¯s mothership was no exception. The orange furball had eaten the whole thing in twenty-seven bites following the battle¡¯s conclusion.


    The scene was certainly comical, but it did nothing for the party¡¯s mood. The group had remained downcast ever since its members were lost. Arciel and Chloe were especially shut down, with the former silently sobbing each night, and the latter forcing all her smiles. Jules and Lana were slightly better off. He was more broody than usual, and she was always quiet to begin with. Claire and Sylvia were the least affected. Neither had been particularly close to the traitor nor either of the two who perished, but they joined in the silence so as to give the others some time. It was only in the mornings, away from the rest of the party, that they could find the opportunity to shake off the gloom and relax.


    In reality, it was only really the qiligon that benefited. The fox in her arms was still sound asleep, passed out in spite of the fact that she had been kidnapped and dragged through the Skarnian sky. Spreading her wings wide, Claire rose further above the city. She floated through the sky and above the clouds, assuming her true form once her body was fully obscured.


    Her otherwise tiny frame extended. She went from a petite humanoid to a massive, serpentine creature whose precise classification not even the gods agreed upon. Her body measured just over ten meters long. She had two sets of legs, one clawed and the other hooved, and her snout was somewhere between that of a mystical deer and a dragon. Her ears, her horn, her sharpened teeth¡ªall of her primary features were scaled up to match.


    She upped her speed as her transformation completed and zoomed across the sky, swimming through it with all the grace of a brush upon a canvas.


    Perhaps it was the cold that came with the altitude, or perhaps it was her raw speed. Whatever the cause, the fox, who had been moved to a seat on top of the caldriess¡¯ head, slowly opened her eyes. It took a second for her brain to start working. Her eyes bleary and an adorable yawn escaping her lips, she pushed herself to her feet and stretched like a cat.


    ¡°Good morning, Sylvia,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Morning,¡± mumbled the furball. She lay back down in her bed and rolled over, sprawling her limbs as she looked up towards the sky.


    For a while, that was how they remained, simply enjoying each other¡¯s company as they watched the morning sun, as they so often did.


    ¡°Hey, Claire?¡± It took Sylvia ten minutes of dawdling to finally break the silence. Having fully awakened, she got to her feet and crawled up to the spot at the very front of the qiligon¡¯s face.


    ¡°I¡¯m not changing my mind.¡±


    The fox lowered her head. ¡°I know. But¡­¡±


    ¡°No buts.¡± Manipulating one of her ears, Claire lightly poked the vixen right between the eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not changing my mind.¡±


    ¡°Ughhh...¡± Sylvia sighed. ¡°I swear, you¡¯re as stubborn as a rock.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Mhm. Sure.¡± Collapsing into a fuzzy puddle, she pressed her face into her best friend¡¯s mane and let her tail flop over. ¡°When are you gonna do it?¡±


    Claire paused for a few seconds to stare at the sun before opening a brand new eye at the fox¡¯s feet. ¡°Let¡¯s go right now. We have time.¡±


    ¡°Mmnnn¡­ I guess we might as well,¡± muttered the fox.


    Claire focused her eyes on the space in front of them and put her vectors to work. Joining the space between two random points was typically a fairly simple task, and it had only become simpler since she gained her administrator-level privileges. Connecting to Llystletein, however, remained a chore nonetheless. Alfred¡¯s domain existed in a subspace cut off from the rest of the world. Joining it with the coordinates directly in front of her was less like folding a multidimensional cloth and more like dredging a second fabric through a veil of mud. Even with her abilities divinely empowered, it took some effort to weld them together.


    The portal appeared after a brief delay. Despite the difficulty in its formation, it was just like all the others, a tear that allowed them to see through to the other side. Touching it delivered them straight to Llysteltein¡ªthe gaol that contained the world¡¯s most powerful degenerate.


    The pair emerged on the third floor. They were placed atop the cliff that served as its usual entrance and provided a solid view of the archipelago below. Sky Lagoon was as beautiful as ever; its beaches were clean and its oceans sparkling, but Claire paid it no attention. Her eyes immediately shot to the man who had appeared directly behind her.


    Even in her true form, he somehow stood taller. His three-meter frame, which was by all means abnormal given his human roots, towered over her neutral, four-legged stance. He was dressed in a dark, brown robe, matching the crinkled, pointy hat that topped his frame. Its age was second only to his; the man¡¯s skin was wrinkled as a toad¡¯s and his hair and beard were both as white as snow.


    He smiled when she met his twinkling blue eyes. It was the usual boyish grin, the teasing smirk that completely defied the demigod¡¯s apparent age.


    ¡°Sylvia. Claire.¡± He looked at each girl in turn. ¡°Welcome back.¡±


    Claire didn¡¯t give a verbal response, only responding with the lightest of nods, while Sylvia lightly waved her hand and smiled.


    ¡°Hey, Al.¡±


    He immediately raised a brow. Tapping a finger against his staff, he carefully scrutinized the fox¡¯s expression before he spoke aloud again. ¡°Is something wrong, Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°H-huh?¡± The fox blinked. Thrice. ¡°O-of course not, silly. Why would anything be wrong?¡±


    The old man threw back his head and laughed. ¡°I am your great-grandfather, child. Reading your mood comes as easily as siphoning a soul.¡±


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°U-uhmmm¡­ I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about?¡± stuttered the orange dog. The behaviour earned her a skeptical look, but he refrained from commenting further.


    ¡°Well, in either case, it¡¯d be best for the two of you to come inside.¡± The mage pulled a wand out of his sleeve and quickly cast a spell. Their surroundings distorted right after, warping the party into a familiar room. Rather than taking them into his living space, which would no doubt have been too cramped for the ten-meter moose, he transported them to the library and sat down in his chair whilst creating a bed of vectors for his guests.


    Claire readily seated herself atop it, waiting silently as the man popped a pipe into his mouth and lit its contents aflame.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while since we last saw each other in person,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯ve grown, and more quickly than I was expecting, at that.¡±


    The lyrkress nodded. ¡°Your ether was helpful.¡±


    ¡°I could tell,¡± he said. ¡°I made quite the hefty profit.¡± He took a long drag from his pipe and leaned back in his chair. ¡°You¡¯re not planning to ask for more, are you? I would advise against it. Your body wouldn¡¯t be able to handle it.¡±


    She lightly shook her head. ¡°I need you to fix my magic circuits.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± Alfred tapped a finger against his desk as he looked her up and down. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    The celestial smiled as he lazily raised his wand and pointed it at the creature seated on top of her head. ¡°Have you considered her opinion?¡±


    ¡°H-huh? Me?¡± Sylvia blinked.


    ¡°Yes, you, child.¡± Alfred stood up from his chair, paced over to the lyrkress, and grabbed her favourite hat. He spun her around and patted her on the head as he presented her to the giant serpent. ¡°Don¡¯t be shy, Sylvia. Tell her how you really feel.¡±


    ¡°H-huh?¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°I know how she feels.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what are you guys talking about?¡± asked the fox.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± said the almost-qilin.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so concerned, child,¡± echoed the human.


    ¡°What the heck!?¡± The fox puffed up her cheeks. ¡°You can¡¯t just talk about me and then leave me out of the conversation!¡±


    ¡°We can, and we did.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t say that there was much of a choice. It happened to arc right over your head.¡±


    ¡°The two of you being in sync is just weird,¡± muttered Sylvia, ears and tail both drooped.


    ¡°Very,¡± agreed Claire. She lightly booped the fox with her snout before meeting her great-grandfather¡¯s eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve already taken her point into account.¡±


    Alfred raised a brow. ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°Wait, you guys can¡¯t just continue! Explain!¡± cried Sylvia. She started flailing in the old human¡¯s arms, but she wasn¡¯t able to break free; his grip was as strong as steel.


    ¡°This is my true form. There¡¯s nothing for you to see,¡± she said. Surely enough, the only articles of clothing that decorated the caldriess¡¯ body were the accessories upon her ears. The rest was covered in scale and fur, with everything important hidden away.


    ¡°Wait, that¡¯s what you guys were talking about!?¡± cried the fox. ¡°Why were you making it sound like such a big deal!?¡±


    ¡°You were fussing over it,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I was under the impression that you were fairly concerned,¡± agreed Alfred.


    ¡°Okay, you guys really need to knock that off.¡± The fox sighed. ¡°And uhmmm¡­ I mean I don¡¯t really see what it has to do with me.¡±


    There was a moment of silence, wherein she was given a pair of looks. She returned them with confused blinks, only to be set down on the table, along with all of Alfred¡¯s papers and parchments.


    ¡°All joking aside,¡± said Alfred, ¡°I can fix you.¡± He slowly looked her over, his eyes shifting from blue to gold. ¡°But with how little you¡¯ve been resting and how broken you are, I doubt that I would be able to do it quickly enough.¡±


    ¡°How long?¡±


    ¡°Five or six months, at least,¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s a fair chance of it taking even longer. I can¡¯t say for certain.¡±


    Claire frowned. She would be facing her father next year; there wasn¡¯t any time to waste on an extended recovery. But at the same time, she knew that she couldn¡¯t win with the rest of her abilities still locked. Her circuit damage was even more damning than the limitations that Flitzegarde had instated. She needed a copious amount of time and magic to produce a blade as potent as the one that had fallen on Tornatus.


    ¡°Five months is too long.¡±


    ¡°I figured as much.¡± A smile crossed the human¡¯s lips as he walked back behind his desk, rummaged around in one of his drawers, and produced a series of glass tubes. The cylindrical constructs were not filled with the ether that Claire expected, but a bright red liquid reminiscent of a health potion. ¡°You see, Claire. I unfortunately don¡¯t have a quick and permanent solution to your problem, but I do have a decent temporary one.¡± He laid the potions across the desk as he spoke, arranging them in the shape of a fan. ¡°But, as I am sure you¡¯re already aware, I couldn¡¯t possibly relinquish them to you without a significant charge.¡±


    ¡°Just say it. What do you want, Alfred?¡± The serpent narrowed her eyes.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t give me that look. It¡¯s nothing complicated.¡± He leaned forward on his seat, and pushing Sylvia to the side, propped up his face with the backs of his hands. ¡°All I would like is for you to return to Llystletein on the first day of each month and freeze the portal that leads outside, with true ice, of course. Or more specifically, I¡¯d like you to transform the whole island it¡¯s on.¡±


    Claire paused briefly. ¡°You¡¯re attempting to circumvent Flux¡¯s orders.¡±


    ¡°Her commands have done very little to benefit my plans, and I happen to be within a hair¡¯s breadth of my goal,¡± said the celestial, as he toyed with his pipe.


    ¡°Because of the souls I gave you. And because everything Sylvia just fed you.¡±


    ¡°Precisely.¡± A dark grin crossed his lips. ¡°At my previous pace, it¡¯ll only be another seven centuries or so before I am free. I do thank you for that, Claire. And you too, Sylvia. Your combined efforts saved me over three hundred years.¡± He placed a hand on two of the tubes and pushed them towards her. ¡°These are stabilizers. They will not repair your circuits or ease your pain, but they will allow you to spend five million points of mana without experiencing any deterioration. You have about five minutes before each one wears off. Assuming you are on time, you will receive two each time you offer your assistance, one if you are not. I do advise using one to encase the portal. It will likely be necessary.¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯ll also throw in an extra bonus each time you consign a thousand souls to the library,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯d expect that you¡¯re most likely thinking of banishing a few groups of monsters and calling it quits, but unfortunately, they are not in quite the right form to be processed. I will require the souls of intelligent, sentient creatures fully aware of themselves.¡±


    There was another pause. ¡°What¡¯s stopping her from noticing and undoing my spell?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± said Alfred. ¡°She¡¯s very likely going to notice right away and get us both in trouble.¡±


    ¡°I assume you have a contingency?¡±


    ¡°Naturally.¡± The old wizard chuckled as he stroked his beard. ¡°It¡¯s simple. All you need to do is make it into a sculpture of the unhappy goddess in question.¡±


    Claire took a few moments to stare at the human¡¯s face before she slowly nodded her head. ¡°Fine. We have a deal.¡±


    ¡°Good, excellent.¡± Alfred laughed merrily, kicking back in his chair as his grin grew even wider. ¡°Oh, and speaking of deals,¡± he looked at his somewhat troubled great-granddaughter. ¡°Sylvia. Were you not going to accrue more charges of your ultimate?¡±


    ¡°H-huh!?¡± The fox, who had curled up, yawned, and closed her eyes, shot to her feet with a violent start. ¡°O-of course not. I-it¡¯s not like I really need it anyway.¡±


    ¡°Anything that is done here, while I bear witness, will count for twice, no, thrice its usual value.¡±


    ¡°Kn-knock it off, Al! Now you¡¯re just being weird,¡± huffed the furball.


    ¡°As the celestial of life and fertility, I would say that maintaining a healthy interest in voyeurism is a normal part of the job.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°We¡¯re leaving.¡±


    She magically raised two of the tubes and handed them over to the fox, who quickly stashed them inside the subdimension hidden within her tail.


    ¡°Y-yeah, let¡¯s get out of here,¡± agreed Sylvia. ¡°Everyone else is probably gonna worry if we stay for too long.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget to freeze the portal on your way out.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±


    Focusing briefly on the space in front of her, Claire opened another rift and escaped the celestial¡¯s quarters.

 Chapter 373 - Giants, Raccoons, and Giant Raccoons II

    Chapter 373 - Giants, Raccoons, and Giant Raccoons II


    ¡°Do you feel like visiting anyone?¡± Claire asked the question as they entered Sky Lagoon. They had returned to the cliff that overlooked the archipelago, with the citadel floating in the air in front of them and the portal to Mirewood Marsh directly to their rear. Darkwood Hollow¡ªSylvia¡¯s childhood home¡ªwas only a hop, a skip, and a jump away.


    ¡°Mmnn¡­¡± The fox brought a paw to her face and briefly buried it in her muzzle. ¡°I think I¡¯m gonna be okay. I¡¯m not really in the mood right now, and we can basically visit them whenever we want if we¡¯re gonna start coming monthly. Plus, I¡¯m kinda worried about Ciel.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Claire spread both the wings on her back and the wings on her ankles as she lowered her head right next to her pet. ¡°We should do something for her.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking that too, but I¡¯m not really sure what.¡± Sylvia climbed aboard without any further instruction, and after assuming her elven form, squeezed her legs around the lyrkress¡¯ neck. ¡°It¡¯s kinda tough. She¡¯s had Matty with her ever since she came out of stasis.¡±


    Claire nodded. She didn¡¯t know what to do or say. Following Lia¡¯s death, her own comfort had been derived mainly from Sylvia¡¯s presence, and she doubted that Arciel would find much solace in either of theirs. Still, she decided that it would be better to hurry over. No matter what, she was better present than not.


    The thought lasted until she leapt off the cliff, until the wind rushed by her face and pulled her memories to the forefront. It was precisely because she leapt from that very cliff that she had learned to fly, because she sank into Sky Lagoon¡¯s depths that she had learned to swim, and because she had explored its settlements that she had killed her first thrice-ascended.


    Her lips twisted into a smile as she shot across the sky. Rather than taking the straight-line path that she had originally identified, she looped around the dungeon, passing by its floating islands and confronting her old foes. She crashed through them, obliterating a mind-controlling deer, a few stray crabs, and a whole slew of porky hyenas before she dived into the ocean and waved at a pod of manatees.


    Though they failed to recognize her, the friendly, confused, Llystletein blobs waved right back, fluttering their flippers as they danced through the sea.


    Since she was already present, Claire dove a little deeper, past the layer where the foxes fished, and crushed a monopus with a swipe of the tail. When she rose, she did so with a whole school of edibles in tow. Helpless before her vectors, they could do nothing but splash and flail as she lifted them up beyond the waves.


    Her pet got to indulging immediately. Sylvia ate every morsel thrown her way in just one or two bites apiece. Even with only two legs, she caught them like a dog, leaping up into the air to grab them with her mouth.


    Giggling, Claire dove again and grabbed another school from the deepest depths. She launched the foxgirl a hundred meters up on her way out of the water and practically pelted her with treats. Right then, as Sylvia¡¯s guard was at its lowest, she turned into a humanoid and caught her with a tackling hug.


    They landed in the water together, with the fox getting soaked through and the water washing off the caldriess¡¯ scales. The pair wrestled for control, laughing even as they were eventually washed up on the beach.


    ¡°Mmk, that¡¯s probably enough,¡± said Sylvia, a big smile on her face. ¡°We should really go.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. We should.¡± The snake-moose¡¯s actions were at odds with her words. She closed her eyes and rolled over, using the foxgirl¡¯s arm as a pillow as she buried her face in her side.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire?¡±


    ¡°Zzzzz¡­¡±


    ¡°People who are asleep don¡¯t say ¡®Zzzzz!¡¯¡±


    ¡°¡®Zzzzz¡­¡¯ snored the caldriess.¡±


    ¡°Oh, great. Not this again.¡± Sylvia sighed as she started tickling the lyrkress¡¯ chin with her tail, only to find it captured between the smaller girl¡¯s arms. ¡°Come on, we gotta go.¡±


    Claire slowly opened her eyes and sat up as she released her hostage. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help it. It¡¯s been so long.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But Ciel¡¯s gonna start getting paranoid.¡±


    Nodding, the lyrkress rose to her feet and started off towards the portal. Even from far away, it was clear as day, standing almost ten meters tall and four meters wide, the stone construct was at odds with the rest of the tropical paradise. The rock was not the same sandy brown as the cliffs, but rather a deep grey, with carvings and inscriptions all over its frame.


    Claire advanced in a straight line. She walked across the water and climbed over the tiny islands. The few monsters that tried to attack her were torn to shreds, ripped in half by her vectors before they could even get close; a few minutes was all it took for them to arrive at their destination.


    Grabbing a potion from her pet, Claire raised the test tube to the sun and carefully scrutinized its contents. The dense liquid shimmered in the light. It wasn¡¯t like water. Rather than flowing smoothly in the container, it glopped around as would a clot of blood. She shuddered as she imagined its metallic flavour. Putting it in her body seemed like a terrible idea, but when combined with Sylvia¡¯s lack of caution, the seemingly indefinite duration of their contract sufficed to lower her guard.


    Magically pulling the cork, she raised the tube to her lips and reluctantly downed its contents. The flavour was not quite as bad as she expected. It wasn¡¯t delicious, by any means. Sickly sweet, the floral liquid reminded her more of pure honey than it did any balanced concoction.


    Its effects took hold immediately. Whereas the ether lit her body on fire, the stabilizer induced a sensation she had long lost and forgotten.


    It made her body cold.


    It almost felt like she was back up on his mountain, stuck in the storm. But rather than pelting her body, the snow wormed its way inside, flooding her circuits with its icy grip. She couldn¡¯t tell if it was because it was the lack of hostility, or if it was thanks to her resistance, but she didn¡¯t mind, even as it spread its way down to the tips of her toes.


    A cursory check revealed that her systems were all in order. Her mana flowed with an impossible smoothness, almost as it had before she crushed the southernmost marquis. It wasn¡¯t quite the same. There were still small faults and leaks, losses that she could feel, but she was no longer forcing it through. Her circuits obeyed her commands. And even her divinity regained its function.


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    The ice came readily, much more readily than it ever had in the past. It flooded from her feet, transforming the island from a summer paradise to a mountain of ice in a matter of moments. Sylvia barely managed to slip away. Half panicked, the fox leapt into the air and scampered away, leaping from bubble to bubble until she escaped its range.


    ¡°Claire! What the heck!?¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡± The words were heavily muffled, spoken by the caldriess trapped in the mountain of ice. She pushed it apart, peeling the layers like the petals of a flower as she rose from its core. From her place in the air, she stared at the blossom, its petals twisting and turning with each motion of her fingers.


    She had only spent a few thousand points. She had only meant to create a tiny patch. And yet, it had exploded into a massive glob. It took a moment for her to realise it, but that was simply how it was supposed to function. She was thrice ascended. Most mages of such a calibre had tools in their kit that would allow them to make their marks on cities. They came just as cheaply as most other spells, simply trading their firepower for a larger area of effect. Claire¡¯s ice magic was no different. If anything, it only made sense for it to be more potent with her shard being what it was.


    It should have been a point of pride to see her magic so efficient, but Claire was just left bitter. All it really did was drive home the idea that she was entirely dysfunctional. There was still much room for improvement.


    Sighing, she got to work on her half of the bargain. She carefully twisted the ice, forcing it into the image of a very specific immortal. Capturing the deity¡¯s sparkling, galactic eyes was more or less impossible, but she did at least manage to emulate the eternal frown that accompanied her eternal flow.


    Claire nodded in satisfaction when she was done. The goddess was depicted almost exactly as she recalled her, albeit with a fancy-looking beard upon her lips and a nose three times its actual size. Her divine dress had also been swapped for an outfit that disguised her as a pine tree with a face, which was to say that, frown aside, the sculpture looked nothing like the goddess at all.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire? Weren¡¯t you supposed to like, you know, make the goddess of the flow?¡±


    ¡°I was, and I did,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°This is just,¡± she paused for a moment, ¡°an artistic rendition.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure she¡¯s just gonna blow it up the moment she sees it,¡± giggled the fox.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Claire pinched the half-elf¡¯s nose and tickled the bottom of her chin as the icy structure fixed itself. The tree-shaped shell turned into a beautiful dress wrapped around a delicate figure, the beard moved up to unravel into her hair, and her nose dissolved, filling out her face with a set of divinely beautiful features. There was even a signature woven into the hem of its dress, albeit a small one unlikely to be spotted.


    ¡°See? It¡¯s fine.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t say that after I watched you fix it, silly.¡±


    ¡°Too bad.¡±


    Whipping up another portal, Claire grabbed Sylvia, who returned to her usual fox-like shape, and made her way back to Skarnia. They were back up above the clouds, but she folded her wings in and allowed gravity to do its thing.


    She fell like a missile. The wind rushed by her face and through her hair as she plummeted towards the city. She guided herself only the tiniest bit, steering with her tail so she fell towards the inn. Exactly twelve centimeters from its roof, she came to a sudden stop; every vector that affected her was instantly dispelled by her magic, gravity¡¯s pull included.


    A cursory stretch of the ears revealed that some of the others were up, so she hopped down from the three-story building and moved towards the window from which she had escaped. Magically flipping the lock, she opened the makeshift door with another and slipped her way inside.


    Surely enough, the others were awake. Arciel, the reigning queen of Vel¡¯khan, was the only one still in bed. She remained under the covers, face up with her crimson eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling above. She was not disguised in the usual, humanoid form, but rather the half squid-like shape that had been her original prior to her third ascension.


    Her legs had unravelled into a series of long, purple tentacles and her skin had turned a shade of bright blue. The same could be said of her hair, which had gone from its usual murky green-black to a dark violet shade. Even that was apparently a disguise, though the queen refused to reveal or describe exactly what it was disguising. In all likelihood, not even her maid was aware.


    The maid in question was sitting at the desk, repairing the expensive dress shirt her mistress had worn into battle just a few days prior. Though a bloodsucker like her mistress, Chloe shared little beyond the kraken¡¯s eye colour. In fact, despite having transformed into a lewd ancestor¡ªa creature half between a succubus and a vampire¡ªshe looked almost exactly as she had in her human days. Her only racial features were her pointed fangs, her blonde hair, her tiny hip wings, and the heart-tipped tail growing out from behind her hips.


    She sat across from Lana, a tiny wolfgirl who doubled as one of the two of Vel¡¯khan¡¯s nationally sanctioned pirates. The canine in question, who was at least three times as old as she looked, was silent as ever, staring out the window as she ate her breakfast.


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ hey everyone, we¡¯re back!¡± Sylvia lifted one of her fuzzy mittens and spoke in a cheery tone.


    There wasn¡¯t much of a response in spite of her best efforts. Lana nodded and Chloe smiled, while Arciel whispered a quiet ¡°Good Morning.¡±


    The queen turned over when the fox approached and gave her head a scratch. Like Chloe, she forced a smile, but the cracks were clear from the hesitant motion of her hands.


    ¡°Have you enjoyed your morning flight?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Yeah, it was great!¡± chirped the fox. ¡°We decided to head back to Llystletein for a bit and say hi to my great-grandpa.¡±


    ¡°That does seem like a fairly entertaining way to spend the morning,¡± said the squid, weakly.


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± agreed Sylvia.


    There was an awkward pause, a moment of silence where no one said anything else.


    ¡°Mmmnnnn¡­ do you want me to sing you a song or something? Will that make you feel better?¡±


    ¡°I require no consolation, Sylvia. You need not concern yourself.¡±


    ¡°Okay, now you¡¯re just lying,¡± huffed the vixen. ¡°Are you sure a song isn¡¯t gonna make you feel any bet¡ª¡±


    A hand covered the furball¡¯s mouth before she could finish the sentence. When the fox looked up, she found Claire, shaking her head as she squeezed her best friend¡¯s cheeks.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡±


    ¡°Mkay.¡± The fox hung her head with a pout. ¡°Maybe later then.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± Claire sat down on the squid¡¯s bed with her back towards its occupant. She looked out the window, staring briefly into the city¡¯s streets before she started to speak. ¡°We¡¯ll be crossing the border today. Has Griselda said anything about Zarkaahn?¡±


    Arciel took a breath. ¡°I have heard little from her since we crossed into Skarnia, but I believe we were informed of a creature to hunt in Zarkaahn and another in the nation beyond it.¡±


    ¡°Then we better get going.¡± Claire got to her feet, but Arciel refused to budge. She continued to sit where she was with her head hung low. ¡°Get up,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t have wanted you to sit here and mope.¡±


    The squid clenched her fists. ¡°I suppose not.¡±


    ¡°Then stop.¡± Claire magically grabbed the tentacle monster and dragged her out of bed. She levitated her straight over to the table, where breakfast was ready and waiting.


    ¡°It is easier said than done.¡±


    ¡°I know. But do it.¡± Shoving a piece of bread into the monarch¡¯s mouth, she stepped out of the room and knocked on the door across the hall to wake the rest of the party.


    They needed to move.


    There wasn¡¯t enough time for them to waste. They needed to inflate their levels before the summer solstice fell upon them again.

 Chapter 374 - Giants, Raccoons, and Giant Raccoons III

    Chapter 374 - Giants, Raccoons, and Giant Raccoons III


    Claire stared idly out the side of the wagon as it lumbered along the forested path. The sun was high in the sky, and the border was already behind them. But despite the change in the national boundary, their surroundings remained identical. It was really the fault of the mercantile nation. Skarnia was but a tiny speck on the map, smaller than even the tiniest Cadrian province; its area was far too insignificant for any unique ecosystems to take hold.


    The carriage was being drawn by the turberi as usual. Two of the six three-headed turtles were walking out in front, dragging the vehicle along, while the other four rested with the party¡¯s seven members. Though disproportionate¡ªthe turtles were only about fifty centimeters tall and two to three times as long¡ªthe reptilian pack mules had no trouble doing their jobs. Even in Zarkaahn, they were the most popular mode of heavy transportation. There were a few horses and yaks pulling other groups along, but turberi carried three of five passersby.


    Most of the travellers were Skarnian merchants, their wagons loaded high as they peddled up and down the road. Because they frequently swapped out their animals, the Vel¡¯khanese brigade passed several such groups heading in the same direction. The four resting turtles took turns being fed. Lana handed them large leaves and smiled softly as they nommed them right out of her hands.


    The rest of the girls were either watching idly or keeping to themselves while the party¡¯s men sat out in the sun. Jules, the resident talking clam, was up on the roof with his shell wide open, basking in the essence of summer as it slowly dried his fleshy, humanoid form.


    Krail, the old mage responsible for most of the driving, was sitting in his designated seat with one hand loosely wrapped around the reins. The old greenwood elf was staring at the road ahead, but his eyes were unfocused, seemingly empty as he muttered the chants for his spells quietly under his breath. He did little else but drink from his flask on occasion, drowning himself in the wonderful world of whiskey.


    It didn¡¯t even look like he was paying attention to the road, though that was frankly unnecessary to begin with. The turberi were smart enough to follow it on their own, only needing directions when it split apart.


    It was a peaceful journey. There hadn¡¯t been any disturbances since the last Cadrian attack. And that was precisely why Claire was bored out of her mind. She had already completed as much magic practice as she could; her circuits were inflamed and she was tired of the monotonous repetition. With little else to do but pet her fox, she slowly shifted her eyes to the two idiots playing around in the carriage.


    Both were true shapeshifters whose bodies were made entirely of metal. Boris the ikarett, whose default form was that of a portly iguana, was the pet she had picked up soon after she escaped the lost library. Even without any transformations, he was a deadly weapon. His tail was just the right size to be comfortably gripped as a handle, and the spikes on his head made him into an effective mace. The other weapon was one of the war goddess¡¯ gifts. Named Starrgort, the mechanical spider was a surprisingly durable tool whose functions she had yet to fully explore. It was exactly his origin that dissuaded her. The last thing she wanted was to busy herself with Vella¡¯s schemes.


    The two living weapons were engaged in a contest of cards, namely a peculiar game of their own invention. The two players were manipulating not only the deck itself, but also a violent game of rock-paper-scissors. Rather than using their hands¡ªStarrgort didn¡¯t have any fingers by default¡ªthey transformed their heads into the associated symbols. The winner would lightly ram the loser, and if either party was knocked off balance, then he would concede his next turn and allow the other to proceed unhindered.


    Claire continued to watch for the better part of an hour, carefully observing as Boris took three of every four wins. She didn¡¯t perk up or shift focus until she noticed a coach along the side of the road. There was nothing strange about the vehicle itself, but the people resting beside it caught her eye almost immediately. They were not Skarnian merchants. Rather, they were wealthy locals, likely belonging to some noble house or other based on the crest adorning the side of their vehicle.


    Their members were raccoons. Unlike Panda, their resurrecting informant, the Zarkaahnians were hardly the same size as their animalistic equivalents. They stood at roughly three meters tall, matching the average centaur in every dimension but length. She had caught a few glimpses of the raccoon people in Cadrian cities before, but few and far between, they were unfamiliar enough to draw her curiosity.


    The novelty wore off before long; the ring-eyed rats began appearing in far greater numbers as they got further into the country. Unlike Cadria, which certainly would have placed a major castle town not too far from the border, Zarkaahn couldn¡¯t be bothered to populate its southernmost stretch.


    It was a surprisingly logical arrangement. Small as it was, their southern neighbour had little military potential, and the lands along the Skarnian border were hardly fertile enough to warrant a confrontation. Almost all of it was forested and undeveloped; they didn¡¯t see their first settlement until they were a solid two hours past the national boundary. Even then, the small, twenty-family village was not of a variety that Claire had seen before. Rather than tending to the fields, the locals were swinging away at the trees with their axes as they hummed a rhythmic song.


    They industriously rolled the felled lumber to a large sawmill right by the side of the road, where the workers trimmed the branches, stripped the bark, and processed the rainforest¡¯s bounty into construction materials.


    Though certainly not farmers, it wasn¡¯t as if they abstained from agriculture. There was a group of smaller raccoons moving through the cleared forest, spreading the sea of the trees they toppled and tending to the young saplings whose sprouts had already emerged.


    Another hour of travel revealed that such sights were common. There were a number of wood-centric villages spread throughout the forest, and the roads were present precisely to transport their goods. At the end thereof, the party was greeted by a city. It was a fairly large settlement with a wooden fence built around it and a small moat that prevented any further expansion.


    The carriage was let through the gates as soon as it pulled up. There wasn¡¯t much hassle, nor even a decent inspection. Though they were clearly not local, the guards had let them pass with a casual wave. The career soldiers were in good spirits, merrily chatting amongst themselves with cold drinks in hand. Their behaviour was clearly negligent, but it was difficult to blame them.


    The whole city was in the midst of celebration. There were decorations strewn across the streets and people singing and dancing throughout. Couples walked hand in hand and tail in tail as they ventured from game to game and show to show. Large ribbons adorned every rooftop, the accompanying bells ringing loudly each time the wind passed through.


    ¡°Oh wow.¡± Sylvia stuck her head out the front, her ears as twitchy as her tail. ¡°This place looks super fun!¡±


    ¡°If by fun, you mean loud,¡± Groaning, Jules grabbed his shell and closed it with a thunk. ¡°The fuck are they having a festival for? It¡¯s only been a month since the solstice.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t heard much about Zarkaahn in particular, but it isn¡¯t all that uncommon,¡± said Krail. ¡°In fact, I¡¯d say that it¡¯s pretty common in the forest to the south. The people around the boundless grove do three or four harvest festivals a year, depending on how well things grow.¡±


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    ¡°There¡¯d probably be more fruits and veggies if this was one of Primrose¡¯s,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Most of the stuff I see is meat.¡±


    Claire frowned. ¡°It almost looks like it¡¯s for the god of the hunt. We should leave.¡±


    She looked at Arciel, who took a breath and slowly started to speak.


    ¡°Let us quickly renew our supplies prior to our departure.¡±


    Sylvia¡¯s ears flopped. ¡°Awww¡­ Can¡¯t we stay just a bit and enjoy the festival?¡±


    ¡°It is too dangerous to rest with Claire¡¯s enemies all around.¡± The squid shook her head. ¡°At most, we can pause briefly to learn what we can of our target.¡±


    ¡°So uhmmm¡­ what exactly was the target supposed to be again?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°I believe its identity was that of a man-eating serpent. I was informed that it was a behemoth of a beast with its level in excess of two thousand.¡±


    ¡°So kinda like the thing on that sign?¡± Following Sylvia¡¯s paw, the party found its collective eyes on a large board in the middle of a nearby plaza. In Vel¡¯khan, such an object would surely have highlighted local jobs in need of doing, but the raccoons did not quite share their sensibilities. The latest news was plastered atop it instead; nearly half the board was covered by a painting that depicted a hunter. He was drawn in the midst of a pounce, his target a massive reptilian creature, namely one whose fangs were as long as the man was tall.


    If that was not enough to tell the story, then the accompanying headline¡ªNational Threat Exterminated: Hero Defeats Hellbeast in Single Combat¡ªcertainly did. The kill had slipped through their fingers.


    Claire pursed her lips. It was the exact same thing that had happened to them in Skarnia.


    ¡°Our prey was stolen without warning again,¡± said Arciel, quietly. Her face was pale and her hands were trembling. ¡°Has Griselda forsaken us?¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnnn¡­ I doubt it,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Never have her plans deviated so drastically with no warning. Even if she has not abandoned us outright, I believe it is likely that we are no longer considered worthy of her guida¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stop panicking.¡± Claire gave the witch¡¯s forehead a flick. ¡°It was a new moon last night. Idiot.¡±


    ¡°R-right.¡± Arciel pulled her head over her eyes. ¡°I apologize. It appears that I have yet to fully restore my composure. Let us proceed with the gathering of our supplies. I suppose that knowing of this supposed hero¡¯s feat, we need not gather any additional information.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go buy our supplies.¡± Chloe stood up from the carriage whilst checking her purse. ¡°I¡¯ll catch back up and meet you at the gates.¡±


    ¡°Should you bring along an accompaniment?¡± asked Arciel. ¡°I cannot state with confidence that the city is saf¡ª¡±


    Claire flicked the queen again. ¡°Stop stressing. She¡¯s over level four hundred. She¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°R-right. I suppose you do have a point.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry.¡± The grinning maid threw her arms around her queen and gave her a bit of a squeeze. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡± She whispered into her ears before standing up, leaping out the back of the carriage, and vanishing into the crowd.


    The rest of the party was left stuck in the city¡¯s traffic; there were too many drunks lazing about for them to make any meaningful progress, and it didn¡¯t help that half the roads were blocked with stalls and other celebratory constructions. In one case, the god of the hunt had quite literally gotten in their way, as half the central streets were for the sake of parading a carving of his bestial likeness.


    Claire didn¡¯t let the time go to waste, of course. She focused on her ears throughout their trek, picking up whatever gossip she could. According to the locals, it had been a week since the thoraen champion had stolen their quarry. It was a long enough time that she doubted she could catch up even by her lonesome. He was likely already finished with his business in Fornestead, and perhaps even his business in Paunse. Unless she broke her promise with Flitzegarde, he would probably be done with whatever he needed to do in Kryddar by the time she chased him down.


    It was starting to look like they would have to do their training in Cadria. In and of itself, that was not necessarily a problem. The motherland was full of high-level dungeons aplenty. They could easily find some place or other to hole themselves up until they grew powerful enough to explore the Langgbjerns. The issue stemmed from the impact on their public image and the resulting call for interference. Thankfully, Kryddar had enough high-level dungeons that they could at least avoid embarrassing themselves in public, but any particularly powerful moose that spotted them would still know at a glance if they weren¡¯t worth their salt.


    It was a problem that she continued to ponder as she magically lifted a few snacks from the streetside stalls and forced her foreign coinage upon the owners.


    The foods they served were much more mysterious to the consumers than the coins were to the merchants. The only identifiable trait was that the dishes were deep-fried; Claire knew next to nothing about the specific meats and vegetables that they had cooked. All of the names were unfamiliar, and to make matters worse, they weren¡¯t even always listed. The shops preferred to advertise the types of oils they used, often offering dishes that differed only in that regard.


    Their love for oil only came second to their obsession with bamboo. Large tufts sprouted from every corner, extending higher than the fences themselves. In some places, they acted like natural veils, obscuring the alleyways from undesired onlookers, while in others, they were practically walls.


    With the extent of its availability, it came as no surprise that the local merchants had decided to make bamboo products aplenty. It was harvested in real time, trimmed down to size, and used as something along the lines of a bread bowl. At least half of the shops they passed turned the evergreens into edible containers in which they served their other products. Naturally, they were deep-fried, with only the most ambitious of chefs opting to boil them in oil instead.


    Claire wasn¡¯t a fan of the local treats. Their flavour profiles were too simplistic, and frankly, fairly unpleasant all around. The oil was far too prominent and its thick grease completely overpowered the merits of all the other foods. Her companions, however, seemed to be enjoying themselves. Even Arciel had stopped moping in order to chew on a lumpy root vegetable.


    ¡°This is quite delectable. Whatever was this vegetable called?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Claire squinted at a nearby sign as she spoke. ¡°But the locals call them childsnatchers. And they taste best right after they digest their meals.¡±


    Arciel¡¯s chewing slowed to a crawl. She hesitated, pausing for a few seconds before swallowing the lump in her mouth.


    ¡°I believe I may have misheard you.¡± Her eyes went back and forth between the lyrkress and the tuber¡ªa reaction shared by some of the others.


    ¡°A scholdsnitchzer,¡± said Claire. ¡°It¡¯s an indigenous vegetable.¡±


    ¡°I do not believe that was what you said the first time,¡± said Arciel, her eyes fixed on the golden, fluffy potato.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± The lyrkress stuck out her long, forked tongue, prompting the squid to heave a sigh.


    ¡°Fine. I shall inspect the signs myself.¡± She straightened her back, removed her hat, and looked out the back of the carriage. Her face even featured a small smile, despite her previous melancholy.


    The satisfaction continued to persist as they continued through the city. Though the positive atmosphere was driven by an enemy, it only spread further when they arrived at the northern gate. Chloe, who had been waiting by the exit, lit up like a flower as she saw the mood that had befallen her mistress.


    ¡°Hey, what took you so long?¡± She flagged down the carriage with a wave. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for nearly an hour.¡±


    She was given a number of silent looks, but she ignored them all and flashed a grin as she boarded the carriage. It didn¡¯t look like she was carrying much¡ªshe only had two baskets of groceries in her hands¡ªbut she unloaded eight full containers soon after climbing aboard. Like just the daggers, needles, and other necessities she carried, they had been hidden in the folds of her skirt.


    It was getting a bit late into the afternoon, but the party set out from the gates regardless and made for their next destination.

 Chapter 375 - Giants, Raccoons, and Giant Raccoons IV

    Chapter 375 - Giants, Raccoons, and Giant Raccoons IV


    The party started searching for a spot to camp as the sun began to set. Jules, who had switched places with the elf napping atop the wagon, had nearly steered the turberi into three different clearings, but each time, the decision was vetoed on account of the groups already present. No one wanted a repeat of the previous Cadrian attack, and though sick of driving, the clam was inclined to agree.


    It was only after nightfall that they finally found a decent spot. It was a little bit off the beaten path, just far enough for everything but their campfire to remain invisible to curious passersby. The precise composition of the forest only served to better veil them; they had finally gotten deep enough in Zarkaahn for the vegetation to have changed; there were large patches of bamboo spread all over and the number of ferns had finally exceeded the number of maples.


    All things considered, it was a fairly quiet evening. Dinner was cooking, and each party member was attending to his or her own business. In the abstract, their behaviour was no different from how it had been the last few days, but the mood was nowhere near as dour.


    Chloe hummed to herself as she stirred the pot, and Arciel was finally of the mind to return to practicing her magic. She was focused primarily on casting her ars magna. She fired off the shadowy bolts as quickly as she could, with the resident lyrkress serving as her target. It was, of course, an entirely consensual exchange. Claire had volunteered herself for the others to strike, and three of the four in the midst of self-discipline had taken her up on the offer.


    Jules was the only one to refrain. He kept to himself, refining his magical formulae within the men¡¯s tent while Arciel, Krail, and Lana made use of the moving target. The squid was focused on the quality of her attacks, whereas the other two put volume first and foremost. Krail formed an endless stream of arrows that kept her moving, while Lana rushed to her blind spots and deployed her area of control.


    Their coordination wasn¡¯t perfect, but so long as Claire refused to use her vectors, it was more than good enough. They forced her into frequent transformations, and Arciel¡¯s blinding attacks only dialled up the pressure.


    Practice lasted until dinner was ready, with Chloe calling upon the group to gather around the fire. Each of its members was served a bowl of stew and a loaf of deep-fried bread, bought fresh from the market earlier in the afternoon. There were a number of fruits to balance out the experience, as well as some blood for the two vampires. It had been drawn from a curious but unfortunate rabbit that ventured close enough to the party to become a part of the evening stew.


    Arciel happily began with the rabbit¡¯s offering, only to freeze with her eyes turned skyward. The bowl in her hands dropped to the ground, but her maid grabbed it with a dive before its contents could spill.


    ¡°Ciel? What¡¯s wrong?¡± asked Chloe. When she looked at her mistress, she found the royal squid with her pupils in flux. They pulsed twice a second, shrinking and expanding like a bird in flight.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ What the heck is up with yo¡ª¡± Sylvia opened her mouth, but Chloe pressed a finger to her lips and shushed her before she could finish her question.


    The flickering didn¡¯t last for long, with Arciel momentarily drooping her head and snapping to a seated position. Her lips were twisted into a bit of a frown, which she quickly covered with the bright red fan she retrieved from within her sleeve. Her cheeks were the faintest shade of red, no doubt in part thanks to the attention that had followed her sudden seizure.


    ¡°I have been bestowed a revelation,¡± she said. Her voice was a little shaky, but she continued to speak regardless. ¡°The goddess has affirmed that another entity has thrown our plans awry and advised that we refrain from exploring dungeons prior to our entrance into Paunse.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ how far away is that again?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t too far, maybe a week or so away,¡± said Krail. ¡°If I¡¯m remembering right, Paunse is north of Fornestead, which should be where we find ourselves once we cross another border.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnnn, so does that mean we gotta rush until we¡¯re there?¡±


    ¡°It does not. We are to progress at whatever pace it is that we so desire,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Griselda cannot determine at this time if any difference shall arise from pushing ahead. She shall inform us once she has completed her analysis.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ well, in that case, we should probably hurry as much as we can,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Right, Claire?¡±


    There was a brief pause. ¡°Right.¡± The moose quickly finished her meal and stood up from her seat. ¡°I¡¯m going to go lie down.¡±


    ¡°H-huh?¡± Sylvia blinked. ¡°Uhmmmm, okay, gimme a sec.¡± She stuck her face in her stew, drained the bowl, and chased after her pet. ¡°Thanks, Chloe!¡± she said, as she hopped away, ¡°It was really tasty!¡±


    She didn¡¯t slow until she entered the tent and found Claire on her bedroll with a leatherbound book in hand. It wasn¡¯t open; she was just holding it and silently staring at the cover.


    ¡°Claire?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going to be in Paunse soon.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Yeah. Right.¡± The fox blinked. Thrice. ¡°I totally forgot about your catgirl fetish.¡±


    She was met at first with a silent stare. ¡°I don¡¯t have a catgirl fetish. Alfred has a catgirl fetish, and he tried to give me one by fiddling with my head.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure¡­ I mean it¡¯s still gonna be a problem, right?¡±


    ¡°Not anymore. I got rid of the effect when I ascended.¡± She raised the old diary to eye level as she fell back into her makeshift bed. Her cloak deformed during her descent, transforming into a set of luxurious sheets still attached to her body.


    ¡°Oh. Wait, really?¡± The fox narrowed her eyes into a skeptical stare.


    ¡°Really.¡±


    Claire stared at the book¡¯s cover for a little bit longer before she finally flipped it open. She started with one of its earliest pages, rereading to the point where she had last stopped, lips pursed into a frown throughout. She raised a finger to turn the page as she reached it and even played with the corner, flicking it back and forth, but though she thought herself ready, her body refused her commands. She even tried using her vectors, but like her extended digits, they only served to deny her.


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    In the end, she closed the keepsake and returned it to its bag, beckoning the fox with a finger to take its place in her hands.


    Sylvia happily complied. Crawling into the embrace, she joined the lyrkress in a moment of respite. She looked up at her favourite chair, half expecting to jump into an extended conversation, but Claire was already asleep.


    Giggling to herself, the less-than-stuffed animal snuggled a little closer and closed her eyes as well.


    ___


    Claire fell through the darkness. The wind rushed by her face as she plummeted through an infinite abyss. That part was normal, but that was exactly why it bothered her.


    She hadn¡¯t been given any choices since Pollux had captured their allies. The phantom had pulled her straight into his world every night since, and not even the use of her key had allowed for an early escape. Though she suspected that mastery of his techniques would have allowed her to circumvent Sophia¡¯s defences, she had no intention of following through with his training. She still wanted her own solutions. He had other plans, however, and drilled her on the use of her divinity for as long as each night allowed.


    His non-presence was awfully suspicious, so she began by summoning his door and cracking it wide open. She was expecting the usual, empty world, but there was no sign of its continued existence. There was only more darkness on the other side. And like the vertical space that allowed her to access all the others, it was the sort she couldn¡¯t see through.


    The not-so-fresh environment came with a set of disquieting sensations. Her spine shivered, her tail shook, and something itched under her skin. She couldn¡¯t determine its cause even after stepping inside, only that her feet touched against something soft as she advanced through the space. There were no walls, and she could stretch her limbs as far as they could go, but for whatever reason, it felt narrow, like she was being boxed in with every step she took.


    It was on the fourth such action that everything suddenly changed.


    Bright pink eyeballs sprouted in the space around her. Some were only partly visible and vanished briefly once every few seconds like they were embedded in a set of invisible, blinking faces. Others could be seen in their spherical entirety, their veins pulsing and the nerves behind them firing a constant barrage of signals.


    Claire backtracked immediately. Her heart leaping out of her throat, she zipped back out the door and slammed it shut, nearly breaking its frame with the force of the collision.


    She didn¡¯t know why she was panting.


    It shouldn¡¯t have terrified her, but somehow, it did. Her own eyes were blinking uncontrollably, opening and closing all over her body as she tried to slow her heart. Despite her best efforts, the metronome refused to calm. It continued throbbing, striking against her ribs like a hammer. The lack of control undid her transformation; she reverted to her massive true form, which for some odd reason felt like it filled the unending space around her.


    She tried to escape the darkness. But none of the other doors heeded her summons.


    There was no way out.


    It was as she came to that realization that her fear suddenly abated. Annoyed, she came to a halt by flapping her wings and spun around to gaze at the spot directly behind her.


    The darkness faded into a mist, with an irritatingly familiar chapel taking its place. Normally, the space would have been lined with soldiers, phantoms of warriors long past, but they had vacated their positions and gathered in front of the empty throne. They stood in lines of ten by ten, weapons ready, exactly as would an army on the verge of marching out to war.


    In its usual state, the temple could not have possibly supported the formations¡ªthere were tens of thousands of warriors and it was only a few dozen meters wide¡ªbut on that particular day, the space was expanded. Every soul stood present atop the same red carpet, leaving the walls far away.


    Being near the back of the formation herself, Claire found a number of familiar faces. To her annoyance, she recognized one Timaois Pollux just a few dozen meters away, as well as the obnoxious centaur she had just slain the other day. Her great uncle was also among them, but she paid him little attention. They had never been close, and she doubted that he would recognize her with her body in the shape it was. As far as she was concerned, they shared only their last names and their silvery colours.


    It took half a second for her to realize that they were all unmoving. In fact, the whole scene was frozen; it was almost like someone had stopped the clock and plopped her onto the resulting set.


    Vella was not the mightiest deity. But in spite of her stupidity, she wasn¡¯t too far from claiming the title. There couldn¡¯t have possibly existed an entity capable of exerting such influence over the arachne¡¯s realm, save for the goddess herself.


    Surely enough, she soon revealed herself as the perpetrator. Pushing the door wide open, she stepped inside with her face a jubilant smile. Her mechanical, spider-like legs skittered across the floor as she approached the lyrkress with her circuits alight, pulsing with the same pink glow that the eyeballs had carried before her. The presentation was so over-the-top that it only drove Claire to roll her eyes.


    ¡°Welcomwph!?¡± Vella tried to speak, only to bite her tongue as the snake-moose gave it a magical tug. Her sharpened teeth tore right through it, separating the two halves with ease.


    ¡°You¡¯re so stupid I almost can¡¯t believe you¡¯re not a delusion.¡± Muttering under her breath again, Claire took a deep breath and ripped herself free.


    The world became muffled as she left her delusional brain to rot in its meat cage and pressed her feet on the ground in spirit form. The fox in her arms gawked as she did, looking between her soul and her figure in clear confusion. It didn¡¯t help that her true form had emerged from her humanoid one, despite the difference in size.


    Deciding not to acknowledge the event, Claire summoned her doors and took a moment to pick between them. There were three as always. One led to the phantom¡¯s abode, where she could hone her skills. One led to Rubia¡¯s mind and allowed her to explore the royal castle. And one should have led to the land of dreams.


    On that particular night, the dream door was missing, replaced with a series of metal bars that resembled the entrance to a cell.


    Still ignoring her fox, she popped it open and strolled right through. There was a fair chance that it was still a trap, as it had been before, but she entered it regardless. It was the obvious choice. The god of the hunt was denying their opportunities to grow stronger. She needed to do everything she could to offset his efforts and perhaps even outpace them.


    Vella¡¯s prison awaited her on the other side, looking exactly as it did just half a week prior. The very same deities were held in the very same cells with the very same numbers overhead. Though she had already browsed nearly half the spider¡¯s wares, Claire took her time perusing her choices. She focused primarily on her gut feeling, using it as a benchmark of risk as she examined each of the gods in question. She made sure to double-check their weapons as she looked them over, more so as a means of guessing their approach to combat than gauging the threat of their reach.


    She eventually settled on an erdbrecher with a pair of twin sabres and the number twenty-five marked directly above his cell. He didn¡¯t seem like the easiest opponent; her instincts assured her that there were many others she could handedly defeat. And that was exactly why she chose him. She wouldn''t grow if she only bullied the weak. Though, evidently, the definition thereof was ever in flux. Two of the celestials she had defeated before had gone from easy to unwinnable. It was a curious occurrence, and she suspected that it had something or other to do with the growth of her ability scores. But at the end of the day, it was irrelevant information.


    Without changing her form, she took Starrgort in one claw and her key in the other.


    Log Entry 854675


    You have received a quest - Vella¡¯s Call (8)


    Primary Objective: Survive the shadow of Einhardt Brandt, God of Blade Dances, for 72 hours.


    Rewards:


    - 25000 points of divinity


    - A 1% modifier to all ability scores applied after all other calculations.


    The shadow wasn¡¯t about to end itself.

 Chapter 376 - Giants, Raccoons, and Giant Raccoons V

    Chapter 376 - Giants, Raccoons, and Giant Raccoons V


    It took another day and a half for the party to cross the border between Fornestead and Zarkaahn. Unlike the raccoon country¡¯s southern frontier, its northern equivalent was far from loose and unguarded. There were heavy patrols on both sides of the dividing line, with soldiers from each stopping the group for questioning and examination. Such was the consequence of the blood feud between the nations. Their royal families had hated one another for generations, and they were yet embroiled in a centuries-long war.


    The soldiers¡¯ demographics made it clear when they transitioned from one nation¡¯s domain to the other¡¯s. And if that alone wasn¡¯t obvious enough, the change in the surroundings certainly did the trick. Everything from the roads to the lakes to the surrounding trees and creatures was immediately sized up.


    It was an effect borne of the land itself; the leylines in the area had been warped by some magic or other and bestowed an element that radiated through the surrounding domains. It was much like the effect of an active volcano, wherein all the surrounding life would be pushed towards developing fire-adjacent traits. Only, in Fornestead¡¯s case, the element was gigantism. The lesser of three centuries or generations drove the effect to take hold, but once mutated, it was nigh impossible for one to turn back even after leaving the area in question. Two giants that moved away from their native domain would still birth equally giant children, grandchildren, and so on and so forth.


    They could still dilute the element by way of mixing their blood, granted, the precise verification thereof was lacking in substance. Most of the experiments had been run with other elements, and it was difficult to say if the results applied to gigantism. After all, it was difficult for giants to breed with other species, albeit more from a physical perspective than a genetic one. Like the humans from which they were derived, giants were technically capable of producing viable offspring with whatever they pleased.


    ¡°Hey uhmmm¡­ Claire? Do you think bigger is better?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Really.¡±


    ¡°Really really?¡±


    ¡°Really really.¡±


    ¡°Then why are you using that giant fox as a pillow!?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s soft,¡± said the lyrkress, matter-of-factly.


    The creature in question, a large orange dog roughly three meters tall, was practically frozen in fear. Its eyes were focused on the humanoid qiligon, its ears were flopped, and its tail was curled up. If its trembling was anything to go by, it was on the verge of relieving itself against its will, but Claire had chased it down and turned it into a makeshift bed regardless.


    Of course, the vulpine was far less entertained by the result. Even as it lay with its stomach exposed and its back pinned to a tree, the fox was itching for a chance to escape. Alas, there wasn¡¯t really any way for it to break free. The lizard sitting on top of it was heavy enough to keep it pinned down.


    The critter was quite lucky then that Sylvia clearly had its best interests at heart. Her cheeks inflated, she put bubbles around each of the fox molesters and provided it an opportunity to return to the forest.


    It was an event that took place some thirty minutes ahead of the carriage. Nominally, the party¡¯s splinter was scouting ahead and examining the terrain in case there was any trouble, but in reality, the girl and her pets were simply goofing off.


    Boris was the worst offender. He wasn¡¯t just messing around, but napping with nine bodies at once. Two were in the trees nearby, six were spread across all the places they had visited, and the last was back in the wagon with the rest of the party. He was putting more effort into getting nothing done than the rest of the brigade combined, and that wasn¡¯t even counting the twelve-odd Borises wide awake and in the midst of spacing out. But while he was certainly doing the most slacking, so too he was doing the most work. He was the only one even remotely on guard¡ªthe only one to notice and eliminate the three butterflies headed in their direction.


    Clearly, they were sinister ne¡¯er-do-wells with only the worst of intentions, and clearly, he had protected his mistress.


    Clearly.


    He maintained a similar level of caution throughout, and yet, his defence was imperfect. He somehow failed to notice the raccoon that had, at some unknown point in time, appeared directly atop his head. Given that Panda¡¯s new body weighed three times as much as his old one, he could not exactly be easily dismissed. One had to wonder exactly how or when he had arrived on the scene.


    Alas, it was beyond the metal iguana¡¯s understanding, so he decided not to think about it at all. It wasn¡¯t like his input changed the output to begin with.


    ¡°Panda.¡±


    Claire called for the rat in question shortly after his advent. It didn¡¯t seem to matter that the canopy was unmoving nor that he had yet to make a sound. She spun as soon as he turned his eyes in her direction.


    ¡°Hey.¡± Sliding down the length of Boris¡¯ tail, the balloon-shaped raccoon landed on top of a large log and greeted the pair with a wave. ¡°Do you really have to glare at me like that every damn time?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Keep that up, and all your customers¡¯ll run away,¡± he said, with a grunt. ¡°And by all your customers, I mean me.¡± The ball laughed at his own joke, his yellowed teeth on open display.


    ¡°Where have you been?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Oh, you know, here and there. Gathered a bit of intel in Cadria, made some bank in Kryddar, just the usual,¡± said Panda. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m pretty much just dropping in to tell you that Ephesus has called off his shit.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I mean what I said. He¡¯s figured out who you are. And since you aren¡¯t your uncle, he pretty much went right back to the drawing board. No promises, but I doubt you¡¯ll see any more Cadrian interference until you¡¯re much further north.¡±


    Claire paused for a few seconds before nodding her head. ¡°It¡¯s only to be expected. We wiped out an entire fleet. That¡¯s enough to raise even Cadria¡¯s guard.¡±


    ¡°An entire unauthorized fleet that held nothing back,¡± said Panda. ¡°Chances are, this is only gonna make things harder for you by the time you actually get up there.¡± He raised a hand to his brow and looked in the direction of the wagon. ¡°Their expectations are gonna be high. And well, you guys aren¡¯t exactly up to par.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to remind me,¡± muttered the lyrkress. ¡°We¡¯ll probably have to spend some time in Paunse or Kryddar.¡±


    The moth and cat-run countries had a number of decent dungeons to their names. The higher-level ones still weren¡¯t quite as abundant as they were in Cadria, but it was unavoidable. The northern lands were much harsher than their southern counterparts.


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    ¡°Are there gonna be any decent dungeons along the way?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Dunno,¡± said Panda. ¡°I was planning to loop back around tonight so we could figure out some of our plans. Throw me a few coins, and I¡¯ll check up on the geography while I¡¯m out.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ what are you even gonna use the money for?¡±


    ¡°What do you think? I¡¯m gonna buy shit, duh.¡±


    ¡°I mean¡­ aren¡¯t you a raccoon? Raccoons don¡¯t buy stuff!¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you just pass through a whole ass country of raccoons? They had merchants, didn¡¯t they?¡±


    Sylvia crossed her paws and huffed. ¡°Yeah, but those raccoons were huge and stood on two legs!¡± she said. ¡°Well, I mean uhm, you¡¯re kinda huge too, but I¡¯d be kinda surprised if you were actually capable of walking around.¡±


    ¡°I was born with a short spine. It happens, sometimes.¡± The sphere shrugged.


    ¡°Now you¡¯re just playing dumb!¡± said the fox. ¡°You clearly aren¡¯t one of them! They were like ten times taller than you!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well that ¡®cause the Zarkaahanins are raccoons, and I¡¯m a panda,¡± he said. ¡°Anyway, I gotta run.¡±


    ¡°Wait! Get back here! I¡¯m not done talking to you yet!¡± Sylvia chased the zero-sided object, but he vanished the moment he made it into the undergrowth. ¡°What the heck!? He totally just showed up, said what he wanted, and left.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s nothing new,¡± said Claire. Picking the fox back up in her arms, she materialized her wings and gave them a solid flap. ¡°Let¡¯s go join up with the others. There¡¯s a city up ahead.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, good idea!¡±


    Fox and lizard in tow, the caldriess rose into the air and regrouped with their flightless companions.


    ___


    The next leg of the journey went smoothly. They made it through a set of fifty-meter gates and entered a city filled with ten-meter people; even with its covered top, the wagon failed to reach the locals¡¯ knees. Like all the other foreign visitors, the brigade had little choice but to use the dedicated short person¡¯s lane that lined the side of the street. It was held in a trench between the sidewalk and the road to minimize the chance that an unfortunate visitor would be stepped upon.


    That, however, was the extent of the non-native support; everything else was configured almost exclusively for the indigenous population. The average ceiling was about one-and-a-half times the height of the average person and the doors were sized accordingly. Without a giant¡¯s mass to push them open, one could only rely on an inflated strength stat. Granted, it was likely due to their high strength efficiency that giants were capable of supporting their bodies in the first place. Alas, such were the woes of math.


    ¡°I cannot claim to enjoy this sensation.¡± Arciel looked out the back of the wagon as the brigade made its way through the city. ¡°It is as if we are scurrying under the streets like rats.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a little claustrophobic.¡± Chloe¡¯s glasses nearly fell off her face as she nodded her head in agreement. ¡°It almost feels like we¡¯re in a trench.¡±


    ¡°On the bright side, we could probably strike it rich if we manage to find ourselves some decent work,¡± said Krial. His eyes were on a merchant in the midst of receiving an incredibly large, golden coin from one of the city¡¯s locals. ¡°Those things are as tall and wide as our knees.¡±


    ¡°Wrong,¡± said Lana. She was seated beside the driver, basking in the scant bits of sunlight that the giants failed to block. ¡°It¡¯s fool¡¯s gold.¡±


    ¡°How can you tell?¡± asked the elf.


    ¡°Colour.¡± The pirate produced two pieces of metal from within her shirt. One was a standard, Vel¡¯khanese coin marked with an image of the moon, while the other was a largely ovular blob that shone with a similar lustre. The wolf girl looked at the elf expectantly, perhaps thinking that the explanation sufficed, but all she got in return was the blankest of stares.


    ¡°Not sure I follow,¡± he said, after a brief delay.


    She frowned for a moment before raising the coin and pressing it closer to the old man¡¯s face. ¡°This is fake.¡± She held it there for a solid few seconds before switching it for the other item. ¡°This is real.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to give me a more in-depth explanation later,¡± said Krail. ¡°I can¡¯t really see the difference.¡±


    ¡°Neither can I,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Are such imitations common?¡±


    The pirate shook her head. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°You might see a few every once in a while a little further up the coast,¡± said Chloe. ¡°They were a lot more common in the past, but most of the supply was wiped out when Matthias headed up there last year.¡± The maid immediately brought a hand to her mouth, but it was too late. Her mistress had already lowered her hat over her eyes and returned to her seat with a frown.


    ¡°I was unaware he handled such affairs on my behalf.¡± She slumped into one of the wagon¡¯s corners and wrapped her arms around her legs, leaving Chloe with a pained grimace.


    No one knew what to say. They simply sat in the carriage as it slowly lumbered its way down the busy street. Sylvia tried scanning the shops for a tasty snack or two, something to fix Arciel¡¯s mood, but it was to no avail. All the ingredients were every bit as oversized as the giants that cooked them; nothing available looked likely enough to fit in a human-sized mouth.


    ¡°By the fucking gods, lady, it''s always this shit with you,¡± grumbled Jules. ¡°I¡¯ve had enough. Get over it already.¡±


    Arciel clenched her fists and tightened her grip on her knees. ¡°I would rather you refrained from speaking.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and I fucking bet that Matthais would rather you stopped fucking moping around and put the life he saved to some decent use.¡±


    The squid¡¯s knuckles whitened and her nails dug deeper into her skin. But rather than speaking up, she only lowered her head and bit her lips.


    ¡°Jules!¡± Chloe shot to her feet, only to be met with a snort.


    ¡°Bitch, sit the fuck down and stop fronting. You don¡¯t even care for real. All that matters to you is getting between her legs.¡±


    ¡°I¡ª¡± Chloe opened her mouth to retort, but the clam cut her off before she could.


    ¡°The fuck do you think this is? This whole fucking journey began with steeling ourselves to chuck our fucking lives out the window at a moment¡¯s notice. Hell, you fuckers have blood on your hands from the very goddamn start. You got some of us killed in training. What, did you think they didn¡¯t have friends and family or something? Did you really get out of bed this morning and think you had the motherfucking right to break down the moment one of your buddies died? Fuck off!¡± The words drew attention from all the people around them, but Jules continued regardless. ¡°Even if we do make it all the way to the goal, which let¡¯s be honest, we probably aren¡¯t gonna, we¡¯d probably end up getting our asses killed by the Cadrians in the arena anyway. Are you planning to just fucking mope around and throw your fucking match just because the guy in front of you got his shit fucked? Because if you are, then I¡¯m calling it here. There¡¯s no fucking point in sticking around if all you¡¯re gonna do is dick around and feel sorry for yourself.¡±


    ¡°Jules!¡± Chloe stomped over to him and grabbed him by the soft and squishy innards, but he was unfazed, only returning her an annoyed stare.


    ¡°It¡¯s the truth,¡± he said. ¡°Look, do you want to keep babying her, or do you actually want to come out of this fucking hellhole with a win?¡± The clam grabbed the vampire¡¯s wrists, but her hands refused to budge. ¡°I¡¯m not in this to get my ass kicked, and neither were Ace and Matthias. They laid down their lives because they wanted to do something about the fucking situation, not ¡®cause they thought your dumb ass would bawl your eyes out.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡ª¡±


    Chloe was cut off again¡ªalbeit not on the clam¡¯s account. Arciel tugged on her skirt from behind and shook her head when the half-succubus looked in her direction.


    ¡°I admit, there is a point in his claim.¡± Her voice was quiet, barely audible even with the city¡¯s volume reduced. She took one breath, then a second and a third before she gave up on lifting her eyes. ¡°Thank you for reminding me of my purpose, Jules. I shall endeavour to address my emotional state.¡±


    ¡°Ciel!?¡± The maid opened her eyes wide. ¡°But aren¡¯t you¡­¡±


    ¡°I cannot deny his statement. However, I remain incapable of acting upon it immediately. I require some time to sort through my thoughts, but I am of the same mind. To lose hope here would be to waste Matthias¡¯ sacrifice.¡±


    Her words were hopeful, but her voice was hoarse and dry. She still refused to look up, speaking with her eyes on the floor in front of her.


    Jules examined her for a moment before scoffing and looking the other way. The response earned a rather sharp reception from the lady¡¯s maid, but another tug stopped it short of ballooning out of control.


    ¡°Chloe. Leave him be.¡±


    The maid hesitated, but she eventually returned her arms to her side. In the end, all she managed was to give him a nasty look that went entirely ignored.

 Chapter 377 - Giants, Raccoons, and Giant Raccoons VI

    Chapter 377 - Giants, Raccoons, and Giant Raccoons VI


    Though the first two nights were sour, the party¡¯s mood improved by their third day in Fornestead. They picked up a few day jobs in a nearby town and acquired some of the local currency¡ªthe exchange rate was awful despite the use of fool¡¯s gold¡ªand restocked their supplies in each of the cities they passed. For the most part, the nation was at peace. It was almost impossible to tell that it was in the midst of a multigenerational blood feud.


    The already tranquil zeitgeist was further amplified by the sheer distance between the individual settlements. Even going at full speed, it took a week and a half¡ªa full fifteen sunsets¡ªto reach the other end of the oversized kingdom. It was precisely because they were nearing the border that Claire was face down in the carriage with all her eyes closed.


    Though the forest had a clear size gradient, there weren¡¯t any obvious landmarks or checkpoints to precisely delineate the border between Fornestead and Paunse, and the people flowed naturally between them. Native Fornestines and Paunseans could be found in similar numbers along the highways that crossed between their nations. And as Paunsean males were typically docile and skittish, it was mainly their females that governed their merchant bands. Or in more Alfred-friendly terms, the roads were flooded with catgirls.


    They came in all shapes, sizes, and colours. There were tiny kittens with jet-black tails, old grimalkin with snow-white hair, and waves upon waves upon waves of queens in their primes. Some had fancy patterned coats and some had their heads covered in natural tuxedos, but far most eye-catching of all were those with their heads dyed in a dark orange-brown. Their faces, voices, and heartbeats all confirmed that they weren¡¯t her. But from behind, some of them were close enough for her eyes to play tricks on her mind.


    It was unbearable, and Alfred¡¯s curse only made it worse.


    Claire no longer felt the sickening sensation that had once stemmed from his desires, but it wasn¡¯t as if she had broken free from all of the adverse effects. Her catgirl affinity skill dictated that she could see every catgirl regardless of what they were positioned within or behind. Their clothes, on the other hand, were nowhere to be seen; her eyes were incapable of processing them.


    With so many of them nearby, it was truly a nightmare of a scenario. There was nowhere for her to look. They were all over the interconnected roads that ran throughout the region, and many lived within the villages placed by its side; every direction was as cluttered and lewd as the last.


    Though she stayed hidden away, so that they wouldn¡¯t immediately go into heat upon encountering her, Claire found the nation unsafe. Even looking up proved itself a mortal risk. There weren¡¯t any of them in the trees, for the most part, but entire clowders dotted the sky. They rode in palanquins carried by giant flying rodents. The transports were effectively flying hamsters¡ªmonsters indigenous to Fornestead, obtained through their frequent trades.


    Though they could easily move through the air, the oversized furballs did not have wings. They came equipped instead with a trio of tails, each of which featured a set of prongs that could be rotated quickly enough to generate an upward force. They were a little slow for flying creatures of their size, but at the very least, they were much faster than their landlocked equivalents.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire? Are you okay?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have your face against the floor if you were fine,¡± said Chloe. She grabbed a pouch from under her skirt and rummaged around until she found a bright yellow vial. ¡°Would you like some medicine? It¡¯s got a bit of a foul taste, but it¡¯ll help with headaches and motion sickness.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± The lyrkress began to roll over, but she stopped in the middle of the attempt and returned to her previous position. ¡°I¡¯m going to sleep. Wake me up when we reach Kryddar.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want any medicine?¡± asked Chloe.


    The melted glob of a lyrkress offered no response. Her eyes had closed, her breathing had slowed, and she was already snoring away.


    ¡°Maybe we should make her drink it while she¡¯s asleep.¡± The maid toyed with the potion, spinning the vial like a pen as she observed the half-moose¡¯s flickering tail.


    ¡°The medicine probably wouldn¡¯t help her much in the first place,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not really like, sick, sick. It¡¯s more like she¡¯s sick in the head.¡±


    ¡°I mean, yeah,¡± said the maid. ¡°Everyone knows that Claire¡¯s got a few screws loos¡ª¡±


    A silvery blue tail flew into her side and cut her off mid-sentence. Confused and winded, Chloe looked at the perpetrator, only to find her still snoring. Her eyes narrowed, she briefly fixed her gaze on the melted blob of a sleeping dragon before slowly shifting it back to the fox.


    ¡°Is she actually asleep, or is she just pretending?¡± asked the half-demon.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ dunno,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°It is always difficult to say,¡± said Arciel. ¡°She is capable of not only falling asleep at the drop of a hat, but feigning it without error as well.¡±


    ¡°There has to be some way to tell,¡± said Chloe. ¡°We could try tickling he¡ª¡± Another strike to the same location. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure she¡¯s still awake.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s still kinda hard to say,¡± said Sylvia. She wandered over to her favourite chair and lightly pressed her ears against her back. ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ yeah, I can¡¯t really tell. Her breathing is a lot slower than usual, and it sounds natural, but that doesn¡¯t really mean it is.¡±


    ¡°She clearly has to be awake if she keeps hitting me every time I say something she doesn¡¯t like,¡± said the maid.


    ¡°I would not disqualify the possibility of an unconscious reaction.¡±


    ¡°This reminds me of the time one of my old parties hunted an arvin,¡± said Krail. He took a hand off the reins and scratched the back of his head. ¡°It was in the middle of winter, so we were pretty sure it was hibernating, but it kept moving just enough for us to be unsure if it was really asleep.¡±


    ¡°What were arvins again?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°They¡¯re big slugs with wings. There aren¡¯t too many as far north as Vel¡¯khan, but you¡¯ll start running into them if you made for the boundless grove. They¡¯re not docile enough to be made into pack animals, but they¡¯re fast and strong. Tamers use them all the time.¡±


    ¡°Oh wait! Aren¡¯t those the thingies that kinda look like really fleshy birds?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s them exactly,¡± said the elf.


    The party continued to cycle between silly conversations and extended periods of silence as the carriage creaked north. It didn¡¯t take too long for their surroundings to change. The forest¡ªwhose various plants and animals quickly shrank back down to a more reasonable size¡ªgave way to a hillscape covered in craggy protrusions.


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    There were rocks as far as the eye could see, with only short grasses sprouting from the patches of dirt between them. It wasn¡¯t exactly a mountainous area. Few of the stone piles rose any higher than just a few dozen meters, but the slopes were certainly steep enough for the turberi to collapse in exhaustion. Their short, stubby legs were horrible for climbing; they needed to be changed out in less than half the usual time. Most of the locals opted for oxen and horses instead, with the latter as the far more popular choice.


    The land was hardly suitable for the traditional farmwork observed in most other domains, but there were still food-producing villages aplenty. They were constructed on terraced hills, most of which had long been transformed into rich rice paddies. A strange plant with large purple flowers made up roughly eighty percent of the local crop, with the rest of it being a mix of rice, taro, and lotus.


    Dozens upon dozens of cats stood out in the fields, some tending to crops, others catching the fish and insects swimming around beneath them. While it was mainly women doing work abroad, most of the farmers were male. Unlike their feminine counterparts, the cat siths were without any humanoid traits and often meowed aloud. They could have easily passed for pets If not for their slightly upscaled bodies, their clothes, and their bipedal postures. It was an impression only emphasized by the giants living among them.


    Said giant presence was gone by the time they arrived in Volgstok¡ªthe city closest to the border. Roughly half a day from Fornestead, it was a bustling port built around the bay where the Volgska river met the Ryllian sea. Despite the similar geography, the city was nowhere near as waterlogged as Vel¡¯khagan. The whole thing sat above sea level, and though it was built on both sides of the Volgska, it hardly incorporated the river into the city¡¯s plan.


    The locals avoided the river as best they could¡ªthere were several dozen meters of dead space between the shore and the closest buildings, and there was even a set of tall walls erected to keep the water out. Even with the massive bridge that united the northern and southern districts, it was almost more accurate to describe Volgstok as two distinct cities in one.


    ¡°Are you sure this is enough feed?¡± A calico with a long, braided ponytail stared at the wagon as she toyed with her pen and her clipboard.


    ¡°I am certain,¡± said Arciel. ¡°The largest one has little need for food.¡±


    ¡°Well, alright. Then that¡¯ll be twelve hundred bolts for the barn and another two for the food. Fourteen hundred total. I¡¯ll bump it a little higher if the big one ends up eating, likely one to two hundred depending on how much it needs.¡±


    ¡°Is Skarnian coinage acceptable?¡±


    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind a little bit of a surcharge.¡± The catgirl scribbled a few numbers on her page. ¡°It¡¯ll be two silver pieces if you pay in Skarnian.¡±


    ¡°Chloe, if you could.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Nodding, the maid retrieved two silver pieces from her pouch and handed them right over.


    The party vacated the stable after signing the necessary forms and left the clerk to scratch her head as she examined the animals again. There were a total of eight left in her care. Six were turberi. They weren¡¯t too well regarded by most locals, but they served as popular picks among their foreign guests. It was largely their docility and ease of acquisition that drove their frequent occurrence; one could simply grab a few hatchlings off the beach whenever it happened to be convenient.


    The guests¡¯ turberi were not quite as haphazard. She could tell, just by looking at the patterns on the back of their shells, that they were of the expensive Lannais breed; she would have to take good care of them if she didn¡¯t want any trouble, but she was largely unconcerned. She had plenty of experience with similarly expensive individuals.


    Far more concerning were the other two creatures the travellers had left in her care. One was a strange lizard with a shiny metal body, which was frankly the more manageable of the two, while the other was a large serpentine creature curled up into a ball.


    The party had informed her that she was free to put it away and leave it be. It wasn¡¯t supposed to wake up, but she could continue to ignore it even in the odd case that it did. It certainly looked like it needed a generous amount of space, but what concerned her more than its potentially massive, unfurled form, was the strange feeling that filled her chest as she looked upon it. She didn¡¯t know why, but she wanted to run her fingers across the scales. And so she did just that.


    She lightly traced its individual grooves, almost losing herself in the pleasant, smooth sensation before snapping back to reality and shaking her head free of the inexplicable temptation. After ensuring that the customers¡¯ cargo was all locked and secure, she quickly took it out back and shoved it in the barn. Playing with the customers¡¯ animals wasn¡¯t completely out of the question. Some degree of interaction would serve as decent enrichment, but business hours were far from over, and with her brother out for the day, she had to cover the desk herself.


    While the stablehand got back to work, her customers frolicked about in the city. The party¡¯s members wandered around haphazardly, taking in the sights as they walked down the street. Most Paunsean buildings were made of cement, but each featured a tall metal rod alongside some sort of runic device. Though marked with Tzaarkus¡¯ symbol, their function was far from clear. One might have assumed that they were meant to keep the buildings safe even in the case of a thunderstorm, but their thick rubber roofs served that particular purpose already.


    ¡°Where exactly were we headed again?¡± asked Krail. ¡°It seems a little early to be calling it a day.¡± It was just a little past noon, and the party surely would have continued past the city had Arciel not ordered a brief pause.


    ¡°There is a matter I wish to attend to in Paunse, though it does not require all of our attentions.¡± Arciel turned to her maid. ¡°Chloe, once we find our lodgings for the night, I would appreciate if you could gather information on the matter we previously discussed.¡±


    Chloe scrunched up her face. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll check to see if I can find anything.¡±


    ¡°Wait a second. Does that mean what I think it does?¡± Sylvia, who had been walking on her own for once, suddenly assumed her humanoid form and popped up in front of the bloodkraken.


    ¡°It does. I have caught Claire, on a number of occasions, in the midst of hesitation. I suspect that a more direct approach is necessary to break her, or perhaps all of us, from this cycle of lament.¡±


    She lowered her face, raising it again only when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She had half expected it to be Sylvia¡¯s, but following it to its source revealed the party¡¯s wolf girl. She didn¡¯t say a word, but she raised a hand and gave the queen a symbol of approval.


    It was a sentiment shared by the two men trailing just a little bit behind the rest of the group as well. Only the elf let it show on his face. The clam refused to wear anything besides his usual frown even though his eyes had softened.


    ¡°It seems like she¡¯s keeping to her word after all. Of course, I¡¯m well aware that she is simply hiding her emotions as opposed to truly overcoming them, but still, she¡¯s doing a better job than I was expecting,¡± said Krail.


    ¡°The idiots are just licking each other¡¯s wounds is all.¡± Jules paused for a second to scratch his chin. ¡°But I guess it¡¯s worth it if it makes us stronger.¡±


    ¡°You know, I was worried for a bit. I thought you might¡¯ve been a bit too hard on her the other day,¡± said Krail. ¡°I almost thought she was going to give up.¡±


    ¡°Man, fuck off. I said everything I needed to and not a word more.¡±


    ¡°I know, but it might¡¯ve been better if you didn¡¯t let her down as hard. Most people aren¡¯t quite as hardy as you are.¡±


    ¡°What? Do you think you should¡¯ve done it instead or something? All you¡¯d do is ramble without ever getting to the point.¡±


    ¡°Touch¨¦.¡± The elf lightly thumped his back as he straightened it and stretched his neck. ¡°But it¡¯s not like you¡¯re all that much better. You were half venting. I know you¡¯re not happy with how little progress we¡¯ve been making.¡±


    ¡°Can you blame me? We were pretty much leaping over ourselves until we started shitting bricks. Can¡¯t say it feels good, even knowing we¡¯ve been making better progress than most.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t help that we¡¯ve lost some of our best.¡±


    ¡°You better shut the fuck up about that before she hears you.¡± Jules shot a brief glance in the queen¡¯s direction before lowering his voice. ¡°They were good men. We¡¯re gonna have to pick up the pace if we don¡¯t want shit to hit the fan.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know. I doubt the maid¡¯s going to be doing anything but getting herself killed.¡±


    ¡°Pretty much,¡± said the clam. ¡°Honestly, I was thinking I¡¯d jump ship. Probably would¡¯ve too, if she kept wasting our fucking time and sulking. The other one¡¯s been acting pretty fucking weird too ever since we got out of Fornestead. Probably talked to Panda again or something. Can¡¯t help but wonder what she knows.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but it could be something else. One of the kids in my most recent party was like that too. He¡¯d always start getting broody whenever too many of us crowded him. Apparently, he just liked it when it was quieter and¡­¡±


    Jules nodded along and pretended to listen to the elf¡¯s story. But in reality, he had long directed his focus to the improvement of his spells. It was as they had discussed. He needed to get stronger to make up for their losses, and he wasn¡¯t growing quickly enough.

 Chapter 378 - Pledge

    Chapter 378 - Pledge


    Claire slowly blinked away her exhaustion as she woke from an extended nap. She hadn¡¯t the faintest clue as to how long she slept, but when she opened her eyes, she found herself buried in a bed of hay surrounded by all sorts of animals. The six turberi in charge of her transport had their shells against her scales, Boris was sitting directly on top of her, and Starrgort was further positioned on top of him. Getting up and unfurling her body seemed like it would be a chore, especially if she wanted to stay silent.


    Someone had already done her the favour of putting her in bed. There was no reason to squander the opportunity, especially not while they were still in Paunse.


    Her body¡¯s other inhabitant, however, was having none of her nonsense. Taking up residence in Claire¡¯s tail as usual, Rubia, Claire¡¯s clone and effective little sister, raised the limb and undid the knot that was the lazy caldriess. She opened a pair of tail-eyes and scanned the surroundings as she did, flooding her host¡¯s mind with naked catgirls aplenty.


    The almost vomit-inducing sight jolted Claire wide awake. She sprung to her feet, startling the horses and oxen that filled the neighbouring stalls as she gritted her teeth and contorted her body a million ways. But no matter what she did, she found it impossible to resist the urge to bang her face against the basking stone that lay in the stall¡¯s far corner.


    Rubia giggled at first, but perhaps not exactly enjoying the sensation, she reached out with their shared tail and lightly tugged on the lyrkress¡¯ neck.


    The homunculus only got her sister¡¯s attention after the rock joined them in coexistence. Having been impaled by Claire¡¯s frozen horn, it rose with her when she lifted her head and looked out the barn door.


    Drawn by the noise, a yawning catgirl with a particularly large chest made her way towards the stable with a sigh upon her lips. She muttered under her breath as she walked, complaining aloud about having long foreseen the trouble. Quickly deciding to have nothing to do with her, Claire slithered out the stable¡¯s back door and took to the sky with rock and Rubia in tow.


    The stable hand¡¯s confusion rang through the night beneath them, but Claire paid her no mind. She flew higher and higher, high enough that the catgirls became as small as specks of dust.


    Paunsean cities were completely unlike their Cadrian and Vel¡¯khanese equivalents. Though it was storming outside, with dark clouds in the air and heavy rains pouring down upon the settlement, there were hardly any lights to be found. Some of the larger houses had the odd flickering candle, but the streets themselves were pitch black; entire districts were utterly devoid of artificial illumination¡ªnot that it was necessary in the first place.


    The sky kept the city well-lit.


    There was at least one flash every ten seconds. Half of them shot towards the ground, striking the weathervanes built into the roof of each building. The other half were likely meant to do the same, but they wound up striking Claire instead. Though working full force, Tzaarkus¡¯ curse amounted to nothing beyond a faint sense of discomfort.


    It didn¡¯t bother her at first, but Claire soon grew sick of the continued assault and scattered the clouds with her vectors. The sky parted to reveal a beautiful late night. The stars were twinkling, the moon was halfway across the sky, and the city was glistening beneath its pale light.


    On that particular night, the moonbeams lacked their usual vigour. It was the fault of the goddess¡¯ attire. She wore her usual hat alongside a translucent veil that covered her lower half. A thin crescent was all that remained uncovered, right at eye level, but even that was filtered through the wide-rimmed monocle she wore upon her face. On any other night, her ring might have made up the difference, but she had replaced the usual rocks and dust with an orbiting tome whose contents she carefully looked over.


    Rubia¡¯s eyes sparkled when she noticed the goddess. Extending her tail, she got as close as she could and stared straight at the lunar deity as she flipped through a celestial grimoire. Claire felt the same urge¡ªit wasn¡¯t every day that one could catch Griselda in the midst of reading¡ªbut she closed her eyes and allowed the homunculus to guide her vision.


    ¡°Is life in the castle hard?¡± Claire didn¡¯t speak until the fake¡¯s excitement abated.


    Her replacement answered in her mind, but Claire prodded her until she finally took control of their mouth. She opened it a few times before she finally managed a sound.


    ¡°I like it. I like lessons.¡±


    ¡°That makes one of us,¡± said Claire. Only then did she remove the rock from her forehead. She lobbed it into the air with a vector and ripped it apart with a few thousand more. ¡°But if you ever want to run away, just tell me.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Smiling, Claire closed her eyes, spread her limbs wide, and floated through the sky.


    No more words were exchanged between them. They communed in silence, sharing their recent experiences as they fluttered around. It was morning before they knew it, and while the sun rose slightly earlier in Paunse than Cadria, the fake vacated her sister''s body the moment she saw first light.


    Claire was left alone in the sky, watching the world from her celestial throne. For a little, she considered remaining where she was, but in the end, despite her distaste, she set her eyes on the city and slowly descended upon it. There wasn''t really another choice. If they were going to spend another week in Paunse, then she would have to get used to it eventually. It wasn¡¯t as if she could sleep through the trip¡¯s whole segment, especially not when the nation came with its fair share of high-level dungeons.


    Still, she was unwilling to face the day ahead. Claire opened a portal leading back to the stable and entered with her eyes closed. She pushed Starrgort out of the way and curled back into a ball, but remained wide awake even after a few minutes in bed. It was the locals¡¯ fault. She could hear the city¡¯s residents. They were mewling and meowing, hissing and howling as they rose from their beds. The cat sounds made by both catgirls and cat siths were identical. There was nothing to differentiate them. And yet, somehow she knew that they were not the same. It irked her to no end, keeping her wide awake even though she no longer felt the way that Alfred wanted.


    Annoyed or not, she was able to engage her napping skill and put the morning behind her. It was a largely dreamless sequence. She blinked once to find herself on the wagon with Sylvia on her head, twice to see the party camping atop a small mountain, and thrice to be taken to a holy realm.


    It was a familiar face that greeted her¡ªan obnoxious-looking youth with eight arms, light brown skin, and a head of curly hair poking out from beneath a messy turban. Tzaarkus, the god of thunder, lightning, and divine inspiration, was sitting in the void of space with his back pressed against a planet. The giant rock was not exactly enjoying the experience; its surface crumbled under his weight, giving way to his body as he continued to lean against it.


    The accompanying dust only emphasized his jewelry; the bright red gems and the shining silver chains all over his body glimmered beautifully beneath the light of the distant stars. His silken robes were not highlighted by the dust, but neither were they dirtied. They stayed as clean and bougie as ever, their snobbiness second only to his own.


    His chestnut-brown eyes met her with an annoyed gaze, but he refrained from speaking immediately. Only after a few moments of staring did the god finally open his mouth.


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    ¡°Abscond my domain.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°You dragged me here.¡±


    ¡°Not here, Pest. Paunse. Leave Paunse without a moment¡¯s delay. Don¡¯t even think about laying your dirty claws on my people. I¡¯ve seen how you look at them. I know your filthy thoughts.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re Alfred¡¯s peopl¡ª¡±


    ¡°Finish that sentence, and I will strike you down right here and now.¡± The god flexed all eight of his arms as he practically snarled his words. ¡°They are my people. That accursed pervert might have created them, but I¡¯m the bulwark that shielded them from Flitzegarde¡¯s wrath. I have provided them with shelter and sustenance since she purged Primrose¡¯s blessings from their lands. I¡¯m the only reason they still exist and thrive to this day. They¡¯re my people.¡±


    Claire gave him a brief, blank stare before continuing to speak. ¡°Either way, I¡¯d leave if I could.¡±


    ¡°You can. It¡¯s as easy as opening one of your paltry portals. Use your mind, mortal. It is not a difficult problem to solve.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± said Claire. ¡°I have a quest, from Flitzegarde.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯ll reward me if I make it to Cadria. Unless I teleport ahead.¡±


    Tzaarkus brought one of his many hands to his chin. ¡°And what is this reward? I¡¯ll provide twice the value should you remove yourself from my domain posthaste.¡±


    ¡°A greater blessing. And she mentioned she would remove the restriction on my titular class.¡±


    The god creased his brow. He watched her for a few moments, staring, picking at her ever-cold expression. ¡°You lie. Flitzegarde would never provide a reward so disproportionate to the effort involved.¡±


    She had to fight back a grin. Even with the system at his fingertips, even with his time dilated, even with all his experience, he couldn¡¯t tell from her expression alone; the god before her was not quite as bright as his lightning might have implied.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t disproportionate. You¡¯d understand if you reviewed the logs.¡±


    He cocked a brow. Again, nearly bringing a smile to her lips.


    ¡°The path is a trial,¡± she continued. ¡°Three of us have died already. And we¡¯re only now approaching the most challenging segment.¡± She magically grabbed the god by the collar and lifted him from his seat with a flick of the wrist. ¡°She told me that even I was likely to fall.¡± Divinity flooded from her circuits, all of it an unwavering pure gold. In spirit form, it wasn¡¯t as difficult to hold as it was in her body.


    She maintained the facade for a solid ten seconds before releasing her grip and dispelling her aura. It had done its job. The god of thunder had his brow furrowed and his nose scrunched up. He was looking at her more carefully, examining her in detail with boxes popping up all around him.


    ¡°You¡¯re the one who displaced the planet.¡±


    By then, it was clear. He hadn¡¯t bothered investigating. He knew nothing about her. And frankly, as a god, he was incompetent. Chances were, he had only yanked her up to his realm because he happened to notice her in Paunse. If she had to guess, it was most likely her effect on the lightning that caught his attention.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°They¡¯re sending troops after me as retaliation. We¡¯ve defeated tens of thousands of men. And they¡¯ll only send more as we draw even closer.¡±


    Tzaarkus breathed a sigh. ¡°I can¡¯t offer you any more than Flitzegarde has already. But I¡¯ll offer you the same for your immediate departure.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯d be a net loss,¡± said Claire. ¡°Your blessing isn¡¯t worth as much as hers.¡±


    The statement drove the god to grit his teeth. He glared at her, but he took no action, eventually clicking his tongue and leaning back in his seat. They both understood. He wasn¡¯t so bold that he would attempt to smite her without first learning of her backing. And he wasn¡¯t so intelligent that he could immediately discern it. He wasn¡¯t Vella, by any stretch of the imagination, but he was not so far off.


    ¡°Fine.¡± He spoke under his breath, his words an almost inaudible mutter. ¡°But know this, filth. Overstay your welcome, leave your mark on this country, and I will smite you without restraint.¡±


    Claire looked him in the eyes.


    ¡°Try it.¡±


    The blatant display of hubris earned another snarl from the god, but he refrained from commenting aloud. He faded away instead, vanishing alongside his domain and leaving the caldriess in darkness. And for a while, that was how she remained. She basked in the void, taking in its essence as the eyes all over her body opened and closed at random.


    There were too many to count, three hundred thousand at least, but somehow, she had no trouble keeping track of their positions. She knew where each of them was and exactly what they saw, even though there was nothing around her.


    She focused on the strange sensation and seized control of the individual organs. Not all of them were physically attached. Some opened in the space around her, while others were in locations that she couldn¡¯t quite describe. They were certainly present, and they almost seemed to share the positions with some of her other eyes, but they returned an empty void that wasn¡¯t quite the same as the one around her.


    Whatever the case, she had no time to dwell. A gentle shaking soon pulled her from her slumber. When she opened one of the eyes on her body, she found Sylvia in her humanoid form. The coach was stopped, and the others had already disembarked. Some of the party¡¯s members were gathered in front of the carriage, idly chatting away, while the others had vanished altogether.


    ¡°Claire! Wake up!¡±


    The snake-moose didn¡¯t immediately respond. She waited for the foxgirl to lean forward and shake her again before suddenly lashing out and wrapping her body around her.


    ¡°What the heck! I said wake up, not strangle me!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not strangling you,¡± said Claire. ¡°And I¡¯m already awake.¡±


    ¡°Your eyes are literally still closed!¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m not awake.¡±


    ¡°Now you¡¯re just being stubborn.¡± Sylvia puffed up her cheeks. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s time to get up. We¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Here? Where¡¯s here.¡±


    ¡°Oh uhmmm, you know. A plac¡ªow! What the heck!? You can¡¯t just randomly squeeze me like that!¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Because it hurts!¡±


    ¡°Liar. You barely felt it.¡± Finally releasing the silly, orange dog, Claire unfurled her body, assumed her humanoid form, and stepped out of the carriage. They were clearly still in Paunse, with the thunder god¡¯s ire serving as only one of the many signs.


    Her ears were still assaulted by all the same sounds; there was a thunderstorm overhead, hammering its might upon the city as the local cats went about their business unbothered. The nearby construction was also of the same style as that of the previous city. The only difference was a lack of water and walls¡ªthe town they had entered was completely landlocked.


    That, in and of itself, was something of a curious occurrence. They had spent the whole journey working their way up the coast. And yet, they were far enough from the ocean that she could no longer hear its cry. The air was, likewise, without the salty smell that marked the sea, even though they weren¡¯t supposed to turn inland until they were halfway through Kryddar.


    At some point or other, the party had deviated from the original plan.


    ¡°So?¡± She asked as she stepped off the wagon. ¡°Where are we?¡± A brief glance at the surroundings had confirmed that the wagon was parked just off the side of the road. The surrounding buildings were small but spaced out, with distinct yards and gardens occupying the space between them. It was clearly some sort of residential district, but that was precisely why it added to her confusion. ¡°Is someone checking in on an acquaintance or something?¡±


    ¡°Not quite,¡± said Arciel. She stepped out of the building with one of the locals in tow.


    Claire¡¯s breath stopped.


    The local that emerged had a head of orange-brown hair cut into a familiar bob. Her eyes glowed the same bright green as the pair that still haunted her dreams. She stood at the same height¡ªa tiny bit taller than the resident witch¡ªand carried herself in nearly the same way. Even her tail flicked in the same silly pattern.


    If not for the faint wrinkles that had formed on her face, the lack of glasses, and the subtle difference in their bone structure, they would have been identical.


    ¡°There is someone I wish for you to meet, Claire,¡± said the squid.


    There was no need for words.


    The caldriess had already understood.

 Chapter 379 - Pledge II

    Chapter 379 - Pledge II


    Claire¡¯s breath was stuck in her throat. Frozen in place, she stared at the middle-aged catgirl throughout her approach. The advance was but the briefest moment in time, spanning just a few seconds from start to finish. But it felt as would a veritable eternity. Her eyes and ears recorded every last detail, comparing them almost automatically to that which she had known.


    They were so similar that they overlapped in her mind, that she couldn¡¯t help but mistake them, even knowing that it was impossible.


    Lia was gone. Claire had carried out her funeral rights herself. And yet, she was right there, standing tall and strong. Almost as if she had never caused her death.


    Despite the stupefied moment, Claire was quick to recover. She regained control of her body half a second after the catgirl¡¯s mother stopped in front of her. And after secretly taking a deep breath, she met her eyes and spoke.


    ¡°Has anyone ever told you that you resemble your daughter?¡±


    The catgirl laughed. It was a silly, dorky laugh. Another trait that ran in the family.


    ¡°I get that a lot,¡± she said, wistfully. ¡°Or at least I did.¡±


    Claire clenched her fists. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°What are you apologizing for? It¡¯s not like yo¡ª¡±


    ¡°I might as well have killed her.¡± She took off her glasses and presented them alongside the diary always on her person. The catgirl didn¡¯t seem to know how to respond. Perhaps thanks to the harsh nature of Claire¡¯s words, she was still frozen, so the lyrkress lifted her arms with a set of vectors and pushed both items into her hands.


    ¡°What¡¯re these?¡± Her breath was half caught in her throat, but she squeezed the words out regardless.


    ¡°Her mementos,¡± said Claire. ¡°Goodbye.¡±


    The confused cat looked between the snake-moose, who had already started walking away, and the objects she was given. ¡°Wait.¡±


    Claire refused to listen. Not until Natalya¡¯s mother chased after her and grabbed her by the shoulder.


    ¡°Wait,¡± she said, again. ¡°At least stay for dinner.¡±


    The moose was about to shake her head but stopped short as she saw¡ªrecognized¡ªthe look in the catgirl¡¯s emerald green eyes. Again, they overlapped, and again, she felt a pang in her chest.


    ¡°Fine.¡± She paused to take a breath. ¡°I am Claire Augustus, Caldriess, first princess of Cadria. Your daughter was a close friend.¡± Another pause. ¡°We ran a shop together in Vel¡¯khan.¡±


    ¡°Oh, where are my manners? My name is Liliya Vernelle, and I¡¯m an Armidian shorthair.¡± Liliya smiled and extended her hand, which the lyrkress hesitantly shook. ¡°I¡¯ve heard much about you from my daughter, Claire. I¡¯m sure she wouldn¡¯t have blamed you for what¡¯s happened.¡±


    The lyrkress froze. ¡°You¡¯ve heard about me?¡±


    ¡°We were close, and she wrote a lot of letters,¡± said Liliya. ¡°I know about your adventures, I know all about the MACC, and I even know what she said to you up on that hill.¡±


    Completely bewildered, Claire blinked, twice at first, and then another three times for good measure.


    ¡°Now why don¡¯t you come in? She¡¯d throw a fit if she ever found out I let you leave without bed and breakfast.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said dinner.¡±


    ¡°Leaving after dinner would just be plain silly. Our house isn¡¯t the biggest, so it might be a little cramped with all of you, but you¡¯re welcome to stay the night.¡±


    ¡°I do appreciate the offer, Mrs. Vernelle,¡± said Arciel, ¡°but there are other matters which require our attention. It shall be only Claire and Sylvia who spend the night at your residence.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like it if you stayed as well, Arciel.¡±


    ¡°I could not possibly intrude,¡± said the queen.


    ¡°Please. It¡¯d be no bother,¡± said Liliya. ¡°Lia was always fond of you, and I¡¯d love to hear about everything you did together firsthand.¡±


    Arciel lightly tapped her chin with her fan. ¡°Chloe. Take charge of the brigade for the night. I shall be taking a brief reprieve. You are free to tap into the secondary budget and spend whatever you feel is necessary. It is my hope that, come morning, we shall all be refreshed and ready to depart.¡±


    The maid was a little hesitant, but she responded with a nod after another look from her mistress. Though some of the party¡¯s members, namely Lana and Krail, seemed rather curious, neither said much before hopping back on the carriage. The only indication of their continued interest was the way that they stared as the turberi were put back to work.


    Arciel, Claire, and Sylvia, in the meantime, followed Liliya indoors. Made of cement, like all the others in the area, the Vernelle house was a simple, two-story building sporting just six primary rooms. Its layout was almost entirely square, though the interior spaces themselves were generally more rectangular. The living room spanned the left side of the building, running from the entrance to the other end of the home, while the dining room and the kitchen sat on either side of a narrow hall.


    With it being the late afternoon, no one else was at home. It almost felt like the house was a little lonely despite the extent of its size.


    ¡°Have a seat.¡± Liliya led them to the dining room, where they found a small round table that stood roughly half a meter off the ground. The lack of chairs was an intentional design; the height was just right for the girls to tuck their knees beneath the wooden top. The only stool¡ªa tiny thing just half the table¡¯s height¡ªlikely meant for the home¡¯s most feline resident, was temporarily shifted aside.


    ¡°Give me a second.¡± The host set her daughter¡¯s things on the table before making for the kitchen. ¡°I¡¯ll make something to drink.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother. I¡¯ve got it,¡± said Claire. She engaged her authority skill and picked a drink from the list. With her divinity infused, the manifestation was instant; the Ancient Elven Wine had already appeared in her hand by the time she made the selection. It drained a full hundred thousand points of mana, but strangely enough, it didn¡¯t cause much in the way of damage. It didn¡¯t even hurt, despite the fact that a similarly expensive ice spell would have made her nails ooze blood.


    The glasses, she quickly made of true ice. They were simple, conical structures with long necks and circular bases to keep them balanced. They were small enough that it only stung to make them, and she had further bolstered the efficiency by leaving bubbles of air between the glass¡¯ interior walls. It was a trick she had only recently thought up. There was little reason for the things she crafted to be anything but hollow. She could hold whatever she wanted with her vectors, and the extra thousand-odd pounds that a solid block contained would hardly have any effect against a foe with the raw strength of a Cadrian warrior.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Blinking in surprise, Liliya returned her kettle to its shelf and joined the rest of the group at the table. The bottle¡¯s sudden appearance was hardly the most surprising part. She had heard of alcohol magic, and though she hadn¡¯t ever seen it in person, she was content with the seemingly apt explanation.


    Far more confusing and eye-catching was the method by which the liquid was poured. The cork suddenly flew off the bottle without rhyme or reason, and the liquid within readily distributed itself to the four cups as each walked itself in front of a different person.


    ¡°Thank you for stopping by. I¡¯d always wanted to meet you with everything that Lia¡¯s said.¡± The catgirl forced a small smile as she addressed all three of her guests. ¡°She used to send a letter every month. I didn¡¯t think much of it when she missed the first two, but I started to fear the worst when the third didn¡¯t come. So this doesn¡¯t really come as a surprise.¡± She shook with every word; her lips quivered, threatening to shatter her already broken mask.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± said Claire, again. She slowly swirled the wine in her cup and lightly flicked her tongue. ¡°It¡¯s my fault.¡±


    ¡°Would you mind telling me how it happened?¡± asked the catgirl, after slowly taking a deep breath.


    The lyrkress nodded. ¡°Should we wait for her father? It¡¯ll be a long story.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a good point. Lavrentiy would hate to miss it,¡± said Liliya.


    ¡°And it might be better if Sylvia tells it,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Mmmnnn, yeah. I can probably throw together a song,¡± said the foxgirl. ¡°Oh! I¡¯m Sylvia, by the way.¡±


    ¡°Nice to meet you, Sylvia,¡± said Liliya. ¡°Lia wrote a lot about you as well.¡±


    ¡°She did?¡±


    ¡°She had a section in each letter just to cover your antics, and they were always so detailed that it almost feels like I already know you.¡± She picked up her glass with a shiver and carefully brought it to her lips.


    ¡°Really?¡± Sylvia blinked, thrice. ¡°I thought Claire was basically the only thing she ever thought about.¡±


    ¡°There was a lot of that,¡± said Liliya, with a laugh, ¡°and I can see why.¡±


    ¡°Only because I¡¯m cursed,¡± said the lyrkress. ¡°Some old pervert made it so catgirls would be unnaturally attracted to me.¡±


    ¡°There is something about you that catches the eye, but that isn¡¯t what I meant.¡± Claire tilted her head, but the catgirl only downed her wine and stood back up. ¡°I¡¯ll explain after dinner. My husband will be home within the hour, and it¡¯s about time I get started.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll he¡ª¡± The lyrkress began to stand up, but Sylvia pressed down on her shoulders and kept her seated.


    ¡°Hey Ciel, can you go help in the kitchen? I think Claire¡¯s probably just gonna set the whole house on fire if she tries.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. It¡¯s made of cement.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush! You know that¡¯s not what I really meant! You can¡¯t cook for the life of you, and you know it!¡±


    Claire frowned. ¡°I made that thing for your birthday.¡±


    ¡°You wasted like a hundred fish and it was still kinda burnt! Oh, and before you ask, I know because I read your min¡ªer, I mean one of the maids told me.¡±


    ¡°Liar.¡±


    ¡°D-don¡¯t be silly! I never lie!¡±


    ¡°Liar.¡±


    Liliya laughed as she pulled a pot out from under the sink and quickly rinsed it over. The water flowed as she pulled the spout off of the faucet and pressed down on the latch built inside of it. ¡°I¡¯m starting to see what Lia meant when she said they were a riot. Are they always like this?¡±


    ¡°It is far more frequent than not,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°It must¡¯ve been lively then, your adventures, I mean.¡±


    ¡°Quite so.¡± The squid briefly lowered the rim of her hat. ¡°Might there be any way for me to assist?¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, I¡¯ll be fine. You should probably head back to the table and make yourself at home. I couldn¡¯t possibly ask a queen to help me with dinner.¡±


    ¡°Today, I am no queen. I am but your daughter¡¯s friend and I wish to be perceived as such and no more. As one of Lia¡¯s dearest, I wish to extend my aid to you, her mother.¡±


    Liliya smiled. ¡°You''re going to have to fix the way you talk if you want that to sound even the slightest bit convincing.¡±


    The queen raised her fan to her lips and blinked. ¡°That would be¡­ rather difficult. My manner of speech has been ingrained in me since early childhood. I do not believe it so simple to alter.¡±


    ¡°Just try it.¡±


    The squid frowned briefly before clearing her throat. But though she stood tall, and though she looked ready to annunciate her thoughts, she remained dead silent.


    ¡°Is something wrong?¡±


    ¡°I have not the slightest clue as to what I am meant to say.¡±


    The mumble was met with a laugh. Liliya lit the stove under her pot and covered its surface in a layer of oil. ¡°How about you pass me some of the lotus roots while you figure that out? It should be in the first bag on your right down in the basement.¡±


    ¡°I shall seek it then.¡±


    ¡°You mean, ¡®give me a sec, I¡¯ll go grab it?¡¯¡±


    The queen blinked. ¡°Yes, that.¡±


    It was an interaction that repeated many, many more times throughout the evening. But in spite of the constant reminders, Arciel never did manage to shake the habit for long. And while one could certainly criticize her lack of adaptability, it was largely the catgirl¡¯s fault¡ªthough she had tried showing off in front of the guests, it turned out that she was as hopeless of a cook as her daughter. Most of the work fell into Ciel¡¯s hands, and though not the most experienced chef, she managed much of the prep work the cat was supposedly assigned.


    Claire and Sylvia had expected to spend their time chatting with Lia¡¯s father upon his arrival, but the man in question headed straight into the kitchen after a brief introduction. Kicking his wife out, and relegating her to entertaining the two halfbreeds, he worked with the squid to produce the evening meal.


    Such was the norm in Paunse. The tampering that Alfred had done made it so houses were headed by matriarchs, and women were the main breadmakers while the men generally stayed at home and tended to the chores. The Vernelles were one of the rare exceptions who saw their roles reversed.


    Dinner was served right as the final guest arrived. Signalling his entrance with a knock on the door, a human with a shining bald head and a half-grey beard strolled right into the house as the first dish was placed on the table.


    ¡°What¡¯s with all the people?¡± he asked, as he found an empty seat.


    ¡°Hey, Bell. Did you just get back in town?¡± asked Liliya. ¡°These are Lia¡¯s friends. They¡­ came to inform us of her passing.¡± Her voice shook, just the same as how her eyes wavered.


    ¡°I see.¡± The human closed his eyes, crossed his arms, and leaned against the wall. ¡°I figured.¡±


    For a while, the group stared at the food in silence.


    ¡°W-why don¡¯t we get started?¡± Liliya clapped her hands together and put on her best, shaky smile. ¡°Dinner will get cold if we keep sitting around. Arciel helped us prepare all of these wonderful dishes and it¡¯d be a shame if they went to waste.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn, does that mean I should start telling everyone what happened?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Mmk!¡± Sylvia pressed a hand to her chest, and taking a deep breath, slowly began to sing. The mellow notes were accompanied by vivid hallucinations¡ªscenes taken straight from her memories and projected upon the world.


    She sang of the ridiculous misunderstanding that came from their chance meeting, of the nine-headed beast that they conquered together, and of the lizard who had suddenly appeared in the midst of their conversation. She crafted an epic about the flaming duck and her flying dungeon, detailing everything from the evil, mind-eating shoggoth to the crossplay that came with their infiltration. Dozens of verses were dedicated to the winter that they spent together, to the beautiful festival they enjoyed in Vel¡¯khan and even more to the time of peace that followed the squid queen¡¯s coup. She precisely described the architecture that made up their shop and recalled the difficulties and friends encountered in its founding and establishment.


    And then, finally, she sang of the bloody end that she met and the vengeance taken in her name.


    Two hours had passed by the time the aria came to an end. The sun had set and the owls were out and about. No one had touched any of their food.


    No one had considered touching their food.


    They were all too busy with their feelings to even consider the option.

 Chapter 380 - Pledge III

    Chapter 380 - Pledge III


    It took a few moments for everyone to calm.


    Sylvia returned to her seat as soon as she was done, but though she hungrily eyed the food laid out on the table, she left it untouched in favour of leaning against her bestest friend. The fox wasn¡¯t stricken with tears or otherwise transformed into a bumbling, snotty mess like most of the others, but neither did she have her usual energy. The performance had been just as emotionally draining for her as it had for the listeners, only she had given it form through her voice in place of another means.


    She wasn¡¯t out of breath, like she was when she had summoned Yrild-ikurh, but she huffed and she puffed regardless.


    ¡°That¡¯s the gist of it.¡± Claire spoke up after about a minute of silence. She had refused to cry in front of the others, but it wasn¡¯t like she was unaffected. There was a slight tremble in her voice and it lacked its usual strength. She wasn¡¯t fooling anyone, even with her expression as frozen as ever. ¡°Pollux¡¯s death led Cadria to declare war on Vel¡¯khan. We managed to convince them to do it by proxy. So here we are.¡±


    There was a brief pause as the Paunseans fought to gain their composure. The Vernelles themselves were more heavily affected, so it was the resident human who first raised his voice.


    ¡°Are you stupid?¡± Belyaev¡ªLia¡¯s teacher¡ªpaused for a moment to sniffle. ¡°You¡¯re putting yourself in the line of fire for one little girl.¡±


    ¡°What he means is, thank you,¡± said Liliya. ¡°Really. Thank you so much, for telling us, and for everything you did for her.¡± She clenched her fists before bringing them into her lap and forcing a smile.


    Her father tried to say something as well, but he was too much of a mess to put his thoughts into words. He broke into a sob every time he opened his mouth before falling into his wife¡¯s lap and crying out his heart. Every once in a while, he struck the floor, both with his tail and with his paws.


    ¡°I¡¯ve barely done anything.¡± Claire took a breath before turning to the cat¡¯s master. ¡°And they had me in their sights regardless. Cadria¡¯s been looking for excuses to go to war ever since my father took the throne.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess I can¡¯t say you¡¯re wrong about that.¡± The human twisted his lips into a frown. ¡°I can tag along if you need another hand to fight back the Cadrians. I know how much of a pain they are.¡±


    Claire took a second to scan him. Her moose instincts confirmed that he wasn¡¯t just prey. At the very least, he seemed capable of standing toe to toe with Porcius and his ilk. She suspected that he already had some experience against the Northland folk and he could grow powerful enough to threaten their champions if he joined them in the Langgbjerns.


    Still, she shook her head. She couldn¡¯t take from the family any more than she already had.


    ¡°I would rather we sparred,¡± she said. ¡°And you taught me the techniques that she had failed to inherit.¡±


    Belyaev raised a brow. ¡°Yeah, I dunno about that one. You don¡¯t have the right muscles for any fancy rapier work, and you clearly aren¡¯t the type that¡¯ll make any good use of my runes.¡± He scratched the back of his head. ¡°But you know what? I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be against it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll need to wait either way.¡± She took a breath. ¡°First, we need to handle Lia¡¯s inheritance.¡± Her fingers began to bleed as she formed an icy rapier. Material aside, it was identical to the weapon that Lia had always wielded. ¡°Her killer broke the original. This is the best I can do.¡±


    Belyaev accepted the weapon, only to flinch as he first touched it. ¡°It seems a little cold.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s made of true ice. You¡¯ll need a glove to wield it.¡±


    ¡°No wonder,¡± he said, before suddenly raising his head. ¡°Wait, did you just say true ice?¡±


    Claire didn¡¯t bother answering the question. She had already shifted her gaze to Lia¡¯s parents.


    ¡°This is for you two.¡± The diary and the glasses rose from her pouch¡ªthey had been temporarily returned so the table could be set for dinner¡ªand hovered in the space in front of Lia¡¯s mother. ¡°It¡¯s like I said earlier. These are her mementos. She left a lot of gold as well. It¡¯d be best if you accepted them.¡±


    Liliya reached for the items, only to blink at her hand as she found herself incapable of pushing them away.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine without them,¡± she said, quietly. ¡°She¡¯s sent us more than enough gold to last both our lifetimes, and I¡¯m sure that these mean much more to you than they do to us.¡±


    ¡°You were her parents. I was just a friend.¡±


    ¡°Still.¡±


    ¡°I know it might not seem like it, but Liliya¡¯s right.¡± Lavrentiy, her father, spoke through a series of sniffles. ¡°We have plenty of keepsakes already. We¡¯d like you to keep something of hers, at least.¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯d appreciate it if you did,¡± said Liliya. ¡°She would have wanted you to remember her.¡±


    "And I will.¡±


    Liliya smiled softly. ¡°Lia was always really paranoid. She would¡¯ve worried that you¡¯d eventually forget her if you didn¡¯t have something you could keep on your person.¡±


    Claire stopped to take a breath. ¡°Then I¡¯ll take the glasses.¡±


    ¡°Take the diary,¡± said Lavrentiy. He paused for a moment to sniffle. ¡°The glasses won¡¯t last as long.¡±


    ¡°I¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s either that or everything.¡± The bipedal cat met her eyes. There was much more strength in them than the rest of his demeanour suggested. Even sniffling, even leaking tears, his gaze was firm and unflinching.


    ¡°Fine. If you take at least some of the gold.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure that wouldn¡¯t hurt your travel funds?¡± asked Liliya. ¡°Cadria is still a long way away.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine.¡± Claire ripped open the space behind her and connected it straight to the house. ¡°Follow me.¡±


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Belyaev, Lavrentiy, and Liliya stared blankly at the wrinkle in spacetime, each person more confused than the next. It was a result that drove Sylvia and Arciel to exchange looks and giggle, with the former bounding through the gate, and the latter speaking up as she eventually stepped forward.


    ¡°It is a portal to Vel¡¯khan. Do not be concerned, you will find that it is perfectly safe.¡±


    No one else followed until Boris, who was still half asleep, lethargically made his way through the rift and buried himself in one of the cushions that lay on the other side. Belyaev and Liliya were only a little bit hesitant, whereas Lavrentiy found it almost impossible to cross. He poked at the portal with one of his paws and even hissed at it until he realized that everyone was watching. Only then, with his front paws behind his back, his eyes lowered, and his face a faint blush, did he step through to the other side.


    The guests were placed in the building¡¯s foyer, with the portal closing behind them to reveal the front door. The building was rather clean, thanks to the maids tasked with its maintenance, and everything was put where it belonged. But for most of the Paunseans, that was precisely why it felt so unnatural. It was almost like the building couldn¡¯t decide whether it was supposed to feel lived in. In Paunse, even the noble houses liked to leave objects lying around as a means of making homes more welcoming, and furniture was occasionally arranged specifically with that in mind. Still, despite their discomfort, the human, the cat, and the humanoid cat followed the rest of the group upstairs.


    Claire led them down the hall before stopping in front of Lia¡¯s room. She waited for them to draw a little closer, so they could see the nameplate that the late catgirl had made herself, before twisting it open and revealing its interior.


    At the lyrkress¡¯ signal, Sylvia dumped the golden coins she kept in her tail. It flowed as it would from an endless fountain, rising over a meter off the ground and practically burying Lavrentiy alive. For everyone else, it went up to somewhere between their abdomen and their shoulders. An excessive amount in either case.


    ¡°This was her pocket change,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°How is this supposed to be pocket change!?¡± shouted Liliya, wide-eyed. ¡°There has to be enough gold here to buy a castle!¡±


    ¡°Considering the relative size of a Paunsean estate, I believe one could easily buy three and still find some coinage to spare,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°There¡¯s three times as much buried behind the warehouse and about the same amount invested in one of Olga Popov¡¯s businesses,¡± said Claire. ¡°How much would you like?¡±


    ¡°I think a handful of coins is more than enough,¡± said Liliya. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what we¡¯d do with this much money. In fact, I¡¯m not sure what we¡¯d do with any of it.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°You might as well take as much as you can. We don¡¯t know what to do with it either.¡±


    ¡°I always knew she liked money, but I didn¡¯t think this is how that¡¯d end up,¡± said Belyaev. ¡°She really did learn all she could from Olga.¡±


    ¡°Olga remained one of her closest confidants, and I am of the understanding that they often communed to discuss their intentions for the future,¡± said Arciel.


    Belyaev smiled. ¡°I¡¯m glad. Speaking of, how¡¯s she doing anyway?¡±


    ¡°Her shop is like a twenty-minute walk if you wanna go check,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I¡¯d¡­ rather not. We didn¡¯t part on the best of terms.¡±


    ¡°Enough about the old lady,¡± said Claire. ¡°We need to figure out the money.¡±


    ¡°How about this? We¡¯ll just grab a bag full of coins, and you can keep the rest?¡± said Lavrentiy.


    ¡°Take more.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯d just go to waste. We don¡¯t even have a place to put it. We do have an account at the local bank, but I¡¯m not sure it¡¯d be the best idea to trust them with a whole bag of gold, even if we have Belyaev on our side,¡± said Lavrentiy.


    ¡°They¡¯d try to squeeze it out of us one way or another,¡± said Liliya. ¡°It¡¯s really more trouble than it''s worth.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± said Claire, after a brief pause. ¡°Do you want to see the warehouse?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s in it?¡± asked Liliya.


    ¡°All the silly things that Lia collected while she was in Vel¡¯khan.¡± Claire smiled, softly. ¡°Most of them were gifts from suitors or silly things she won in bets.¡±


    ¡°Maybe some other time,¡± said Lavrentiy. ¡°We¡¯ll have to clean up first. The house is cramped as is. We¡¯d have to make space before we even think of grabbing anything.¡±


    ¡°That is a task that Chloe, my maid, can handle with ease,¡± said Arciel. ¡°She is rather efficient and with the size of your abode, I would not doubt her ability to see it handled in a matter of hours.¡±


    Liliya shook her head. ¡°Thank you, Arciel, but I think we¡¯ll be fine. Even if we were to collect something, I¡¯d rather it be a personal item than something she left in storage.¡±


    ¡°Then take the diary,¡± said Claire.


    Liliya smiled awkwardly. ¡°Anything but that.¡± She tried to wade through the gold that filled the room, but she found that she was basically stuck. The sea of coins was too heavy for her to push it out of her way. ¡°I¡¯d rather have something from her wardrobe, maybe a scarf she wore often or her old military uniform, something that¡¯d be nice to hug.¡°


    ¡°The diary is very huggable.¡±


    The catgirl gave the lyrkress a miffed look and heaved a sigh. ¡°We¡¯re not taking the diary.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Because I said so.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not very convincing.¡±


    ¡°Well, neither are you! You haven¡¯t even finished reading it!¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°I¡¯ve read the whole thing.¡±


    ¡°H-huh?¡± Liliya blinked.


    ¡°Do not be fooled. She is lying,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°S-she is?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Claire¡¯s really good at keeping a straight face, so it¡¯s kinda hard to tell, but everyone knows that she hasn¡¯t actually finished it,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I¡¯m not lying. I finished it last night. While everyone was sleeping.¡±


    ¡°You were curled up like a snake last night,¡± huffed Sylvia. ¡°You didn¡¯t even wake up for dinner!¡±


    ¡°I was curled up. With the diary open.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! Now you¡¯re just being stubborn,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Everyone knows that isn¡¯t true!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Claire briefly closed her eyes. ¡°We can knock out two birds with one stone.¡± She magically opened one of the drawers and retrieved a purse much like the one strung over her shoulder. They were marked with the same Paunsean logo and made of the exact same leather. Their colouring was identical, and their facades even bore the same marks. The only differences between them were that one was a product of her runecloak, and that the other had a few stitches in the middle of its strap.


    It was soon joined in midair by the clothes that shared its drawer. The pants were pristine, but like the purse, the upper garments were imperfect. Both the blouse and the apron featured additional cuts of cloth sewn right into the chest. A clear sign of a later repair.


    No words were necessary to convey the cause of the damage. The outfit was still fresh in all their minds. They had all seen it in the fox¡¯s illusion.


    It was the outfit that Natalya had worn on the day she died.


    Claire opened the purse and filled it with gold without awaiting affirmation. She closed the clips once it was full and floated it to the catgirl¡¯s mother. She briefly considered filling the clothes as well, but knowing that they wouldn¡¯t hold, she transported them over as is.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Liliya¡¯s words were barely audible. She muttered them so quietly under her breath that they almost went unheard.


    Sylvia tidied up as the transfer was completed. Raising her tail overhead, she sucked the rest of the gold back in, leaving the room only a little less organized than it had been upon their arrival.


    Wordlessly, Claire left the room.


    While the teacher considered the failings of his tutelage.


    While the father clenched his fists and lamented his powerlessness.


    And while the mother cradled her daughter¡¯s belongings.

 Chapter 381 - Pledge IV

    Chapter 381 - Pledge IV


    Her mask crumbled as she descended the steps. Her lips shook, her eyes lost focus, and their lids began to droop. Looking around the house did nothing to help. She could see her wherever she looked. Lounging on the couch. Lazily wandering down the hall with her eyes half-closed. Standing in the kitchen and constructing a terrible meal.


    She could practically hear her voice as the memories came flooding back.


    She had tried so hard to suppress them.


    She had fought them off for months on end.


    And for a while, it looked like she was able to put them behind her. But seeing the look on her mother¡¯s face, seeing the familiar way her teacher grasped his blade, and speaking with her father in person. All of it had broken the dam wide open.


    She wanted to rip open a hole in the void and scream.


    Her senses were muted. Everything was blurry. She barely felt the wood beneath her feet as she wandered through the house. Her already dysfunctional nose returned not a single result. And even her prided ears saw the world drowned out by a persistent ringing.


    It wasn¡¯t until she felt a set of arms around her shoulders that she finally bit her lips, clenched her fists, and returned to reality. Her breathing was still rough, but she leaned into the embrace. The one thing that was always there as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The familiar scent tickled her tongue as the familiar warmth lifted her spirits. Eventually, she spun around and returned the hug, burying her face in the fox girl¡¯s chest. A moment that lasted until her ears were filled with footsteps.


    She lightly pushed Sylvia away and directed her eyes up the staircase. It took another few moments, but she soon found a pair of boots descending the familiar path. They came alongside the one human in the space. He toyed with his new sword as he walked, even as its ice ate away at his uncovered hand.


    Belyaev smiled when he noticed their gazes. It was about as forced as expected. The old man was trying his best, but the impression he gave remained that of a weary old soul. It seemed like he may well collapse if prodded a little too hard.


    ¡°Want to head out back?¡± The emotion leaked into his voice. It shook when he tried to speak, but he firmed up by the end of his question.


    Claire didn¡¯t respond immediately, but she took a breath after Sylvia squeezed her hand and slowly opened her mouth.


    ¡°Might as well.¡±


    She magically opened the sliding door that led out to the patio, floated over the railing, and landed in the backyard. It wasn¡¯t the biggest space, just a little over thirty meters in either direction to accommodate the full size of her old true form. Said form had left large depressions where her body once slithered. But while they were certainly more eye-catching, Claire¡¯s gaze sat on the regular old footprints instead.


    Not all of them were hers. Some were left by shoes a little too large¡ªshoes that belonged to someone even taller than the squid.


    All of a sudden, she lost the urge to make use of the backyard. There were still traces of her presence, and anything that they did was sure to wipe it away. Still, she pressed forward. It was time to move forward. She couldn¡¯t just cope. Of course, she could have simply bottled up her emotions and squeezed their voices away. But she knew that one day, everything would fall apart. Just as it had on Borrok Peak.


    ¡°To be honest, there wasn¡¯t much left for me to teach her by the time she left,¡± said Belyaev. At some point, he had donned an oven mitt. It was the type of glove that would clearly hurt his dexterity, but at the very least, it was better than getting frostbite. ¡°I showed her most of my tricks and had her memorize most of the runes. The only thing she had left to do was to master them.¡± He poked the tip of his weapon with his free hand. ¡°Do you have anything else? Unfortunately, there isn¡¯t all that much I can do with a blade that doesn¡¯t bend.¡±


    ¡°I can fix that,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It just needs to be like Lia¡¯s, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes, if you could.¡±


    ¡°Mmk.¡±


    The bard pressed a hand to her chest and sang a small set of jovial notes. It was maybe a third of a song, with the main stanza only repeating twice. It didn¡¯t look like anything had changed, but when the berserker tried the tip, following its conclusion, he found that it was as rigid as a willow.


    ¡°That¡¯s perfect, thank you,¡± he said.


    ¡°I wanted to make it last forever, but true ice is kinda hard to enchant,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯ll probably be back to normal in a few days.¡±


    ¡°A few days is more than long enough.¡± He turned to face Claire and held the rapier in front of his chest. ¡°I would tutor you the way I taught the sisters, but I doubt it¡¯d be all that effective. It would be better if we sparred.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± said Claire.


    A Boris appeared in her hand. He changed shape three times, becoming a spear and a shieldlance before winding up as a frozen axe with a handle made of bone. The process was half to renew her state of mind, and half to demonstrate his capabilities. There was no reason to hide them. She wasn¡¯t looking to catch the old human off guard.


    ¡°Ready?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said.


    His blade was already dancing through the air by the time the words reached her. It wasn¡¯t an attack; he hadn¡¯t closed the distance. He was simply drawing the runes that he needed to enrage. She could have sprouted her wings and closed the distance in a heartbeat, but Claire refrained. There was no point in interrupting him when she had explicitly asked for a demonstration.


    He bolted across the yard as soon as the inscriptions were written. As was the case with his disciple, Belyaev¡¯s muscles never grew and his veins never bulged. The enhancement was strictly magical in nature. And perhaps because of his mastery, or perhaps because he didn¡¯t have any claws to flex, his body was not clearly affected. His eyes had only flashed red for the briefest of moments. Claire could tell at a glance that he was still mostly there. He was perhaps just a little more susceptible to trickery, but that was about the extent of his loss of function. Everything else that had come with the spell was a strict enhancement.


    With his fighting style no different, he was still subject to all the same limitations that the catgirl had struggled with. His sword did not immediately strike his target. The overly flexible tip was knocked back as the body swivelled through the air. It seemed like an opening. But the master was not as flawed as his apprentice.


    He suddenly twisted the angle of his blade when the lyrkress moved to block it. The tip flickered, moving up and down, forward and back. Its final destination was far from clear, or at least it would have been, had Claire not determined it from the movement of his eyes.


    She almost wanted to laugh. Though certainly far more skilled, he was just as honest as her former companion. Perhaps that too was something he had taught her.


    It almost felt like she was fighting her again.


    Boris flashed through the air. Like a candle in the dark, he pulled everyone¡¯s eyes with his glimmer as he drew a perfect arc. The human parried him, catching his edge with the bottom of the icy blade¡¯s guard while its tip arced down towards his mistress¡¯ wrist. In terms of sheer force, he was by far the winner. The false axe was readily knocked out of the way, but his weapon was still repelled. A fresh blade grew from the back of the lizard¡¯s body and caught his icy edge, right as it sprang forward.


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    His slash was certainly stopped, but that was only half the attack. The other half of his body whipped around, his arm moving in the same disjointed way as his rapier as he drove his fist forward. If it was Lia, she would have used a claw, but that was more so an adaptation than part of the formula.


    In either case, it should have been impossible to tell exactly where it would land, but again, his honesty proved itself a fault. Claire twisted away from the attack and took a few steps back. When he charged to close the distance again, she tugged on his leg. And surely enough, just like his apprentice, the master lost his balance.


    The only difference was that he failed to fly face-first into the dirt. He drove his hand into the ground and transformed the attack into a frontal flip. Belyaev spun like a dancer, almost failing to telegraph the attacks aimed right at her ankles, her waist, and her chest in sequence.


    Claire leapt over all three with a single motion, only for him to vanish and appear right where she planned to land. He was already in the midst of a punch. It was a shame then that she had opted out of gravity. It wasn¡¯t like she flapped her wings. She simply released herself from the planet¡¯s grasp and stopped falling altogether, just a few centimetres in front of where his fist wound up.


    The human looked between his hand and the girl before returning it to his side and lightly muttering a command under his breath. His enraged state was released in a heartbeat, a much calmer look replacing it outright.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we call it here for now?¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t know how much further we can push it without either of us getting injured.¡±


    ¡°We have a healer.¡± Claire pointed her tail at the half-elf. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°You might be.¡± He lightly hammered his waist with his free hand. ¡°But these old bones are already starting to creak.¡±


    Claire paused. ¡°Alright.¡±


    It was a bit of a shame. The way he fought, the way he moved, the way he reacted. All of it was so familiar that she felt like she had taken a trip right down memory lane. Even though Lia would have never been able to keep up with the speed of their previous exchange.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± he said, as he continued to massage his spine. ¡°You must have sparred often.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Claire smiled, softly. ¡°We did.¡±


    ¡°Guess that means I¡¯d better follow up on my promise.¡± With a stretch of the back, he put some distance between them and slowly raised his weapon. ¡°I said it earlier, but she knew all my tricks. The only ones she couldn¡¯t pull off were the ones that needed more classes.¡±


    ¡°She was bright.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, she was.¡± He took a breath. ¡°Both sisters were prodigies.¡±


    Claire nodded. She had never met Alina, but Lia¡¯s diary had painted a picture of only the most competent twin.


    ¡°They were supposed to surpass me. They were supposed to outlive me and pass down my techniques.¡±


    Again, the lyrkress nodded. There was nothing she could say to the old man lost in his memories.


    ¡°Anyway, here¡¯s the gist of it.¡± Beylaev raised his sword to his face, took another breath, and carved a series of runes into the air. They were much smaller than the ones that he and his disciples had demonstrated on every other occasion, requiring far more precision to shape. By the time he was done, there were over fifty of them in all. ¡°These are a fair bit weaker since I don¡¯t want to break anything, but each basically has got its own effect.¡±


    He prodded the first rune, the lines in which stretched with his blade before rebounding like an elastic. The second disintegrated when he touched it, and the third ignored any attempts he made to move it. So on and so forth, he demonstrated a wide range of different properties ranging from offensive spells to remote slashes.


    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to draw these with the motion of your blade while you fight,¡± he said. ¡°You can hide them all over the battlefield and pop them when the time¡¯s right. Oh, and they¡¯re meant to be invisible.¡± The runes faded in time with his words. ¡°But that requires a runecraft class over a thousand. Lina had one, but Lia was never quite motivated enough to match her.¡±


    ¡°Can you combine them?¡±


    ¡°O¡¯course,¡± said the human, ¡°but that¡¯s the part that requires another class. Synergist is the name. I told them to make it their fourth or fifth.¡±


    The lyrkress nodded. ¡°They look useful. But I doubt I¡¯d remember the runes.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, probably not. Honestly, I barely remember them,¡± he said, with a chuckle. ¡°Half the time, I have to get the blood flowing first.¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence. Neither said anything as the summer breeze blew by, rustling the grass and ruffling their clothes.


    ¡°Would I have made a difference? If I was there,¡± asked the old master.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Another moment of silence. She wasn¡¯t sure if she was meant to lie or tell the truth. But eventually, she settled on the latter. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I figured,¡± he muttered. ¡°Your countrymen are tough. And the one that we saw in that song seemed even tougher than the others.¡±


    ¡°They aren¡¯t my countrymen.¡±


    ¡°Maybe not in your books, but they still know you as one of their royals.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± Claire squeezed her lizard¡¯s tail. ¡°It was never something I wanted.¡±


    Belyaev frowned. ¡°Yeah, I know it sucks, but that¡¯s just how life is. Sometimes, you roll the die and get shit. It¡¯s just how it goes.¡±


    ¡°I wish it wasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you and me both.¡± Stretching his back again, the bald human walked back over to the kitchen door. ¡°Now come on, let¡¯s get going. Everyone else is sitting around, waiting for us to wrap up.¡± He pointed at the observers standing behind the glass. At some point, Arciel had accompanied Lia¡¯s parents back down to the first floor. Sylvia was there too, bored with her face in her hands as her tail flicked to and fro.


    ¡°You¡¯re very strong,¡± said Liliya. ¡°Belyaev rarely backs down so readily.¡±


    ¡°He only does it when he knows he¡¯s outmatched,¡± said Lavrentiy.


    ¡°Oh, lay off,¡± muttered the old human. ¡°You weren¡¯t supposed to tell her that.¡±


    Claire briefly closed her eyes. ¡°Lia¡¯s half the reason.¡± She toyed with a set of vectors. They swirled around the tips of her fingers, but she stopped short of opening a portal. ¡°Do you want to stay the night?¡± she asked. ¡°We have plenty of guest rooms and the maids keep them clean.¡±


    The Paunseans took a moment to exchange looks.


    ¡°We¡¯d love to,¡± said her father.


    ¡°Shall I call for the maids?¡± asked Ciel. ¡°To draw a bath, among a few other things.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Claire ripped open a much smaller hole and magically floated the dinner table¡¯s contents back through it. ¡°We¡¯ll need a moment to reheat dinner in either case.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s just drawing a bath, we can have Belyaev handle it,¡± said Liliya. ¡°It¡¯d be a good chance of page for him to do something around the house for once.¡±


    ¡°You make it sound like I¡¯m not a solid ninety percent of our income,¡± he muttered. ¡°Where¡¯s the well?¡±


    ¡°Fret not. I shall have the maids attend to this duty,¡± said Arciel, with a laugh. ¡°It is not with well water that we bathe in Vel¡¯khan.¡± She started off towards the door. ¡°I shall return before long.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll come with you,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯ll probably be a whole bunch faster if I warp us around, and there¡¯s something I want to take care of in town.¡± She stretched her back, followed the witch into the foyer, and crafted half a portal before spinning around. ¡°Oh and uhm, Claire?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get any funny ideas about helping with dinner please.¡±


    Laughter rang throughout the room as the lyrkress twisted her lips into a frown, grabbed the fox girl¡¯s cheeks, and gave them a seemingly violent tug.


    The rest of the evening went rather swimmingly. They enjoyed a traditional, Paunsean dinner, took turns soaking in the bath, and chatted around the fireplace. Most of the discussion revolved around the Vernelle family and its past. And that was precisely why Claire found herself staring at the diary when the day came to its end.


    It floated in the air above her as she lay still¡ªnot that she had much of a choice. Sylvia, who was still in her elven form, had fallen asleep with her body half wrapped around the lyrkress¡¯. She couldn¡¯t really budge without waking the half-drunk fox.


    After another brief moment of hesitation, another deep breath, and another squeeze of her best friend¡¯s hand, she slowly opened it and started flipping through.


    One by one, she danced her eyes across the pages. She read about the adventures Lia had growing up. She read about the tough training that her master put her through. She read about the time she spent as a part of the military¡¯s force.


    And then, she read about the time they met.


    The time they spent together.


    She read through it all.


    The sun goddess had started poking her way back over the horizon by the time she was finally done. But feeling more content, more relieved, more free than she had in months, Claire had no trouble drifting off to the land of dreams.

 Chapter 382 - Pledge V

    Chapter 382 - Pledge V


    Claire was not the only one to suffer from a sudden bout of insomnia. Arciel, likewise, lay awake in her room, tossing and turning with her eyes half-open. Though she had hidden it better than most others present that night, she was not at all unaffected by the encounter with the Vernelle house. And just like nearly everyone else, she was blaming herself.


    It was really her weakness that had allowed Pollux to remain for as long as he had. She never would have had to rely on him had she been any more powerful or charismatic. She could have driven him out and taken the country with her own hands. Or perhaps if that were impossible, she could have at least chased him away after the fact or convinced him to leave everything to a representative. There were so many things she could have done to change the final result. And yet, she had failed.


    Just as she had with Matthias.


    Her naivety, her lacklustre combat prowess, and her deductive inability. All of it had come together to hammer her down at once. She was called to pay the price. But her knight had stepped forward and footed the bill in her stead.


    It was the last result she wanted to accept. He had been there for her from the very moment she reawakened, the very moment when the moon melted her stasis and sent her off on her quest for revenge. For as long as she remembered, his permanence was like that of the sky. He filled the role of a butler when she had no others at hand, and played the part of an assassin whenever any dirty work was slated. He was very much like a father to her, even though her species had no such concept. But now, he was gone. All because of her mistakes.


    She didn¡¯t know how she was supposed to face his wife. In fact, she had run away from one such encounter when she saw her rounding the corner earlier in the day. It would only get worse when she had to deliver the news to their children. She didn¡¯t want to have to say it. Not when it was all her fault.


    Arciel was finally beginning to understand why the Cadrian princess behaved the way she did. Claire, at least, had taken revenge herself. Even though it meant throwing her body into a cycle of torment, she had chosen a path that allowed her the power to strike down the murderer who had stolen her companion so she could continue forward without the constant shadow of shame. But Ciel was incapable of mimicking the result.


    It barely made sense. She was also thrice ascended. Guided by Griselda herself, she had become the Moonblessed Empress of Tentacles and Blood, a class that doubled as her effective title. And yet, she was lacking in power. She wasn¡¯t weak for her level, and her trump cards were certainly impactful in their own rights, but she remained incapable of her own protection.


    Worse yet was the lack of a target at which she could direct her frustration. She didn¡¯t even know who Sophia really was, and it wasn¡¯t like she could blame the Cadrian collective. A blood feud would simply prove fruitless. Cadria¡¯s military prowess vastly exceeded that of her tiny country. They could flatten Vel¡¯khan overnight if that were truly what they wanted. And by all means, they would have been justified in doing so. Claire¡¯s revenge, the lashing out that she did for Lia¡¯s sake, was very much something that she had wished for as well. Given the opportunity, she would have happily ordered the lyrkress to commit the exact same war crime she had of her own accord.


    But even disregarding old grudges, she knew better than to paint the entire population as hostile. The Cadrian people, like the Vel¡¯khanese, no doubt differed in their individual beliefs. To declare a blood feud was the height of folly, the sort of foolish act that no monarch ought to commit.


    Her knight had died to protect her because she was queen. And to honour his life, she would make sure she saw all of her duties through. But for that, she would need more power. She knew that her goddess had something in store, but she wasn¡¯t content to just wait around until it was delivered straight into her lap.


    She had to find a way to be stronger, a way to grow on her own without relying too heavily on the moon¡¯s support. And she decided, as her consciousness faded into the aether, that she would ask the lyrkress for her advice when she woke up the next morning.


    ___


    Claire¡¯s night was another dreamless rarity. Despite not sleeping till dawn, she woke before the clock struck nine, though it was only partly by her own will that she roused. She could feel a curious gaze upon her frame as a familiar voice rattled off about something or other. For some odd reason, it was distorted. It almost felt like someone had wrapped up her ears in a series of blankets and muffled the world beyond, but there was no such attack. A twitch confirmed that her ears were uncovered, and listening more closely revealed that her blood was just as strange. The usual, high-pitched whine was down to a dull roar. Even the beating of her heart was much quieter than it was, in her smallest form.


    The strange mix of sensations was enough to jolt her awake. Blinking again, she found that everything was off. The bed was a lot bigger than she remembered, and Sylvia towered over her like a giant. The fox girl¡¯s eyes were sparkling and they only continued to glimmer as she wrapped her arms around the snake-moose and squeezed her as tight as she could.


    Claire blinked rapidly when she found that her whole body fit between the half-elf¡¯s breasts. Her face was buried between them, and looking down, she found that the very tip of her tail only went as far as her assailant¡¯s navel. Her shape was similar to how it was in her true form, only much sleeker. She was maybe thirty centimetres long with everything included and thin enough to be compared to one of Sylvia¡¯s forearms.


    ¡°Oh my gosh! You¡¯re so cute!¡± cried the fox. She lifted her a little higher and nuzzled their cheeks together.


    ¡°Mreep,¡± said the lyrkress. The admittedly short string of words she had planned came out as a strange vocalization. It was halfway between a chirp, a coo, a trill, and a purr. It was a bit of an embarrassing sound, but she didn¡¯t really mind it.


    It helped that her pet viewed it so positively. The squeak only encouraged Sylvia to hug her with even greater gusto, practically strangling her with raw affection.


    ¡°Mrreeep! Mmnnnreep mreep!¡± Again, she tried to speak, but even the longer sentence came out the same way.


    ¡°The sound you¡¯re making is super cute too,¡± said Sylvia. She made the attempt to squeeze her best friend again, but Claire slipped out of her hands, climbed onto her shoulders, and returned the usual favour by scrambling atop her head. She tried to curl up once she was in position but decided to let her tail hang after finding it impossible to avoid the other girl¡¯s ears. The fluffy triangles were simply packed far too closely together.


    The resulting pose came off as uncomfortable until she cut off the problem at its source. Lowering the effect of gravity to roughly ten percent of its norm, she took the stress off her tiny body and almost immediately relaxed. It was a bit of a strange perspective. She was higher up than she was in her usual humanoid form, especially when she stood up on all fours and stretched, but things didn¡¯t look as small as they did when she took on her larger shapes.


    ¡°So uhhmmm, what happened?¡± asked Sylvia. She looked up at the tiny creature, who crawled the tiniest bit forward and bent over to meet her upside-down gaze.


    ¡°Mreep.¡±


    ¡°Huh? You don¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°Mmnreep.¡±


    ¡°You just woke up like that? That¡¯s kinda weird,¡± she said. ¡°Can you at least change back?¡±


    ¡°Mreerrreeep.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, you don¡¯t know!? You should probably check.¡±


    ¡°Mreep.¡±


    Claire extended a hand and grew it out to its usual size. It wasn¡¯t difficult; she did it as naturally as she changed into any of her other forms, but she changed right back as soon as she confirmed the function. The tiny body was strangely comfortable. It was a lot warmer than any of the alternatives and the pain that had accompanied her damaged circuits was only a fraction of its usual magnitude.


    ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s probably okay if you can turn back,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But it¡¯s still kinda weird that you can¡¯t talk.¡±


    ¡°Mreemreep.¡±


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    ¡°Yes, it is!¡±


    ¡°Mreep.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush. I bet everyone else is gonna agree with me.¡± Sylvia started walking out the door, but Claire tugged on her hair and stopped her. ¡°What now?¡±


    ¡°Mmmnrreeep.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah! Good point. I forgot we had guests.¡± She walked over to the wardrobe and threw a fresh elven dress over her otherwise dressless form. Claire checked her own clothes in the meantime. The nightgown she had worn to bed had already turned itself into a set of over-ear ornaments at some point or other. They were of the same design she wore in her true form, but she couldn¡¯t help but feel like they fit a little strangely with her body as small as it was. Taking a moment to think, she floated them off her ears and replaced them with a pair of silver bracelets.


    ¡°Mreep.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn, I don¡¯t wanna. Underwear is way too much of a pain, and I¡¯m just gonna turn back into a fox in a little bit anyway.¡±


    ¡°Mrnnmreep.¡±


    ¡°Sleeping with clothes feels weird.¡±


    ¡°Mrnnnmnreep.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush! You do it sometimes too!¡±


    ¡°Mrnrreeep.¡±


    ¡°You literally know exactly what I¡¯m talking about!¡±


    ¡°Mreep.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you do!¡±


    The half-elf twisted her lips into a pout while the danger noodle on her head stood up and gloated. It was a set of positions maintained as they left the room, just like the confused stares that sat upon the faces of its other two occupants. Boris and Starrgort, neither of whom were fully conscious, exchanged a pair of looks before shrugging their shoulders and heading right back to sleep.


    While the two sentient weapons could easily deny the truth, the maid standing in the hall was not quite as lucky. She froze when she saw the humanoid fox pass by with her qiligon hat and stopped in the middle of opening her mistress¡¯ door.


    Arciel, who was still half asleep, walked right into the hardwood, yelping as she bashed her nose against it.


    ¡°S-sorry,¡± said the maid. Myne, as she was called, paled as she recognized the harm to her master.


    ¡°It was my own fault for not watching my path,¡± said the squid. The words came out as something between a groan and a mutter. She entered the hall with a hand over her face and wobbled right over to the halfbreeds. ¡°Good morning, Sylvia. Good morning, Claire.¡±


    ¡°Morning,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Mreep,¡± said Claire.


    The trio silently continued on their way and descended the stairs, as they would on any other morning.


    ¡°Uhmm¡­ are you not gonna ask about Claire?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°I see no reason to.¡± The queen raised a fan halfway to her lips and failed to cover them as she yawned. ¡°I presume that she has simply taken on another shape, as the two of you so often do.¡±


    ¡°Mreep,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t!¡± cried Sylvia. ¡°There¡¯s no way that¡¯s reasonable! And how come you¡¯re lumping me in! She¡¯s the one that¡¯s always getting new forms!¡±


    ¡°Mnrrreep.¡±


    ¡°Yes, precisely. It is because you often transform us into all manner of creatures and provide hallucinations that I have no intention of even attempting to understand.¡±


    ¡°Mreep.¡±


    ¡°You shut up, Claire! You¡¯re not even trying to be reasonable!¡±


    ¡°I believe that to be in line with her typical behaviour.¡± The squid twisted her lips into a bit of a smile. ¡°I am uncertain of the sense it makes to assume rational behaviour on her part.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush! Now you¡¯re just teaming up on me.¡±


    ¡°Mreereep.¡±


    ¡°I also do not have the faintest clue as to whatever it is you are suggesting.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fine! Whatever!¡± The defeated fox puffed up her cheeks and drooped her ears.


    ¡°Now that we have defeated our nemesis, Claire, I do happen to have a question,¡± said Arciel. ¡°What manner of training is it that you are always doing? I am aware that you practice your control over your spells in your spare time, but I haven¡¯t the faintest clue as to the rest of your progress.¡±


    ¡°Mrnnreep.¡±


    ¡°You train in your sleep? However do you manage that?¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°How the heck are you understanding her!?¡±


    ¡°The same way you are, I presume. I am simply reading her body language and tone.¡±


    ¡°I literally only know what she¡¯s saying because I¡¯m reading her mind!¡±


    ¡°Mreep!¡±


    ¡°E-er, I mean, I can¡¯t read minds at all!¡±


    ¡°Mreep.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Claire!¡± The vixen crossed her arms and huffed. ¡°I know you know, but you¡¯re not supposed to say it out loud!¡±


    ¡°Mreernreep.¡±


    ¡°Well how else am I supposed to understand you!?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, you may find it much easier than you may be expecting, should you simply disable your magic and make an honest attempt.¡±


    ¡°Mnnnn¡­¡± Sylvia scrunched up her face. ¡°Alright, I guess I can give it a shot.¡± She waltzed over to the kitchen counter, set her pet on the table, and stared into her tiny slit eyes. ¡°Uhmmm, can you say something?¡±


    ¡°Mreep.¡±


    The foxgirl cocked her head and furrowed her brow. ¡°...Can you try saying it again?¡±


    ¡°Mree¡ªwned.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± She blinked. ¡°Wait, I think I might be getting it!¡±


    ¡°Sylv¡ªnree¡ªever owned.¡±


    ¡°One more time!¡±


    ¡°Sylvia Redleaf is the dumbest pet I¡¯ve ever owned.¡±


    ¡°It worke¡ªhey, wait a second! What the heck is that supposed to mean!?¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°It¡¯s simple, really. If I took all the pets I¡¯ve ever owned, put them in a line, and ordered them based on how dumb they were, you¡¯d be at the front.¡±


    ¡°What the heck! That¡¯s just rude! Right, Ciel?¡±


    She turned to the squid to complain, only to find her in the midst of fighting back her laughter. It was a losing battle. Arciel soon broke into a side-splitting cackle. She wheezed and pounded her fist against the table as she collapsed into one of the chairs.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Ciel?¡±


    It took a moment for her to calm. Her breath still a little ragged, she pushed herself into an upright position and cleared her throat.


    ¡°Sylvia, I do believe you have been tricked.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°It pains me to inform you,¡± she laughed, ¡°but you failed to see Claire through.¡±


    ¡°Huh? I did?¡±


    She looked at the lyrkress, who innocently tilted her head and mreeped.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I heard her loud and clear.¡±


    ¡°That would be because she said the words in Marish.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Sylvia blinked. Thrice. ¡°Wait a second! Claiiiiire!¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re such a meanie.¡± Sylvia flopped onto the table, grabbed the danger noodle, and pulled her up to her face.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Mmmrnnnphhh.¡± The fox sighed. ¡°That¡¯s like the third time you¡¯ve said that today!¡±


    ¡°No, it isn¡¯t.¡± She slithered out of the fox¡¯s grasp and returned to her position atop her head. ¡°As for the question you asked earlier, Ciel. I think his answer will probably be better than mine.¡±


    She pointed one of her tiny hands out the back door and guided the squid to the human in the backyard. It was still early morning, but he was completely covered in sweat. The salty liquid glistened off his half-naked body. If it wasn¡¯t clear enough before, it became immediately apparent that his age had done nothing to diminish the extent of his musculature.


    He was far from lean, but there was no needless fat on his frame, only bulging veins as thick as the qiligon¡¯s talons. He looked like he could have been specced in strength, even though dexterity was clearly his forte.


    The only part of his body inconsistent with the rest was his dominant right hand. The blade that he held was slowly turning his fingers purple, but he showed no sign of slowing down. He continued to swing, duck, and weave. It wasn''t like he was oblivious to the sounds in his surroundings, but he shut them out and continued to focus until Arciel approached.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± she said.


    ¡°Morning.¡± He took a deep breath and lowered his blade. ¡°What can I do for you?¡±


    ¡°I wish to hasten my leveling. Would you happen to know of any locations worth visiting in Paunse?¡±


    Belyaev paused for a moment to ponder. ¡°There are a few. The ones in Paunse are half decent at least, but shift yourself over the border and you''ll find yourself doing even better.¡±


    ¡°Is it the Kryddarian border to which you refer?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, there''s a dungeon called Crimson Ro¡ª¡±


    ¡°Bell.¡±


    His words were cut off as the familiar nickname rang through his ears. The old human couldn''t stop himself from looking its way and finding the dog-faced lady to whom it belonged.

 Chapter 383 - Pledge VI

    Chapter 383 - Pledge VI


    ¡°Olga.¡± His lips dried as the name escaped them. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°What am I doing here? What are you doing here?¡± The old lady leaned on the patio¡¯s railing as she spoke. ¡°You should have told me you were coming to Vel¡¯khan.¡±


    Belyaev lowered his gaze and took a breath.


    ¡°Arciel, the dungeon is named Crimson Rock. It¡¯s fairly notorious, and I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be able to find plenty of information about it. I¡¯d love to tell you more about it, but first, Olga and I would like a bit of time to ourselves.¡±


    ¡°And you shall have it,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Walking over to the patio, the old berserker grabbed the towel that the dog-faced lady presented and gingerly wiped off his sweat. ¡°When was the last time we saw each other?¡±


    ¡°When you left for Paunse with the twins, I¡¯d wager,¡± said Olga. ¡°Ten years, at least.¡±


    ¡°Not as long as I thought then,¡± he said. ¡°Sorry, I haven¡¯t visited. I just¡­¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± she said. ¡°You don¡¯t need to say it.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Setting down the towel, he closed his eyes and joined her on the railing. ¡°Remember the time when we¡­¡±


    The pair continued to speak at length, but Claire closed the patio door after magically floating over a pair of cups and a fresh bottle of wine. Frankly, that alone was unable to fully mute the noise, so she made for the front door with a mreep whilst beckoning for the others to follow.


    ¡°Uhmmm, are you sure it¡¯s okay for us to leave?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure Lia¡¯s parents are still upstairs. And uhmmm, we¡¯re kinda not in Paunse anymore.¡±


    ¡°I do not believe that to be a problem,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Myne is still stationed at the house, and she shall see to any of their needs during our time away. Of far greater concern is the group we left behind. Chloe is sure to be worried sick.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure she knows that Claire can teleport, so I think it¡¯ll be fine?¡± the fox tilted her head.


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Whatever the case, I aim to gather information on this Crimson Rock dungeon. Its name does possess a rather familiar ring, but I cannot recall why.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the one that the god of the depths told me to visit,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I suspect that not to be a coincidence then,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Perhaps we should return to Paunse and investigate?¡±


    ¡°If we¡¯re gonna go back, we should probably bring everyone with us,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Or, we could convince them to stay,¡± said Claire.


    The suggestion earned her a pair of curious looks.


    ¡°You wanna live with them? That seems kinda weird,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°We aren¡¯t using the house,¡± said Claire. ¡°And I don¡¯t trust the god of thunder. He¡¯s up to something.¡±


    ¡°And what drives that particular interpretation?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°He¡¯s always been a petty piece of divine garbage. He pulled me into his domain and tried to threaten me earlier.¡±


    ¡°Wait, really? When?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°During my sleep. We talked,¡± mreeped the tiny snake-moose. ¡°...I may have ticked him off.¡±


    ¡°Claire¡­¡±


    ¡°It was his fault, not mine.¡±


    ¡°Somehow, I doubt that,¡± said Arciel.


    While the squid and the fox walked along the street, the qiligon never once touched the stone-paved ground. She was floating around in midair, swimming through it as she undulated her body. It was the same way she would have flown in her larger true form, only the wind was of far greater influence. She had to fight back against the salty sea breeze whenever it came crashing down with the tide.


    Still, it was pleasant. She felt unbound, untethered, even as Sylvia grabbed her out of the air and pulled her into a hug. The accompanying mreeps were almost more natural than speech. It felt like she could melt away if she wanted and become one with the world around her.


    ¡°I guess I don¡¯t really mind since we¡¯re not living there anyway, but I dunno if they¡¯ll want to. It¡¯s kinda sudden.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s fine if they don¡¯t. It¡¯s just a precaution, and I doubt a god like him cares much for borders to begin with.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s probably at least a little harder if it¡¯s outside the place he¡¯s worshipped,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I think I remember Al saying something like that before.¡±


    ¡°Either way, we should hurry through Paunse,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Are you sure? I kinda expected you to want to stay for a while ¡®cause of all the catgir¡ªow!¡±


    The incomplete statement earned her a bite. Claire chomped down on her thumb and clamped her jaws just hard enough not to draw blood. She then escaped her grasp and slithered her way into Ciel¡¯s much softer and more comfortable embrace.


    ¡°I do believe you deserved that one,¡± said the squid, as she patted the qiligon¡¯s head.


    ¡°I thought she was supposed to be over it,¡± grumbled Sylvia. She briefly massaged her thumb before suddenly perking up. ¡°Wait, so what are we still doing here if we''re supposed to be hurrying to the next country?¡±


    ¡°I don''t want to watch old people flirt,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I would also prefer to stay out of their way,¡± said Arciel. ¡°And I wish to provide Lia¡¯s parents with the opportunity to sample some local delicacies, regardless of their final decision.¡±


    ¡°Oh, good idea!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It should still be early enough to get something decent from the fish market.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps it would be better for us to split up then? There are certainly other main features than fish.¡±


    ¡°Wait, really?¡±


    The fox¡¯s question earned her an incredulous look. ¡°Sylvia. How long have you lived in Vel¡¯khan?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I dunno. Like a year, ish?¡±


    ¡°Then how is it that you remain unaware of our delicacies?¡±


    ¡°Dunno. Maybe I just forgot?¡±


    ¡°It pains me to acknowledge that to be within the realm of possibility.¡± Arciel sighed. ¡°I suppose we have little choice but to part. I shall return to the castle and ask our chefs to prepare a few dishes while you visit the fish market.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°And Claire, could you please go with her? I am of the opinion that she is likely to mistake the size of an individual portion.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t be able to stop her from buying too much,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Perhaps, but at the very least, it is better than allowing her to proceed undeterred.¡± With that, the squid handed the snake back to her vulpine keeper and made for the castle alone.


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    The rest of the morning went by fairly quickly. With Claire holding her by the reins, Sylvia returned from the market with only a few dozen fish in her tail and a few dozen more in her belly, while Arciel fetched the head chef and returned with a cartful of ingredients.


    Neither of the felines had awoken by the time of their return¡ªthe previous day¡¯s events had left them completely drained¡ªbut they drifted downstairs when the lovely scent of brunch wafted through the house. Directed by the maid, they walked the stairs, their bodies armed with a fresh set of clothes magically warped from their Paunsean abode. It was an arrangement made the previous night, just before they hopped into the bath.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± said Liliya, with a yawn. Even her bed hair was just like her daughter¡¯s, though perhaps that too was a part of Alfred¡¯s design.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± echoed Lavrentiy. He didn¡¯t look nearly as sleepy as his wife. His eyes were wide open, and there was a light spring in each step he took. It helped that he was skipping a day of work. The unplanned vacation was nothing short of a happy accident.


    ¡°Good morning, you two,¡± said Arciel. ¡°You¡¯re just in time.¡±


    She gestured for them to join her at the table. Their chairs were already set out, a normal one for the wife, and a thinner, taller one for the husband, so he could reach the table. Both were newly imagined, things that Sylvia had sung into existence, after determining that they were a little short on furniture.


    Everyone else was already present and accounted for. Boris and Starrgort were sitting on top of the table and failing to blend in with all the extravagant dishes, Arciel, Sylvia, Olga, and Belyaev were seated as normal people would, and Claire floated in the space above her chair, still in her tiny, qiligon form. Her appearance led the couple to stare at first, but they soon dismissed it as a part of the norm. The combination of the individuals present and its somewhat familiar shape¡ªthey recognized the proportions from the bardic song told the previous night¡ªallowed them to deduce her identity.


    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of food,¡± said Lavrentiy, his eyes open wide. The whole table was piled high with breads, fruits, and breads with fruits baked into their crusts. Sylvia¡¯s fish had been transformed into a multi-coloured carpaccio, and the chef had somehow put together another dozen dishes in the hour that he was allotted.


    ¡°Do not be reserved. You are free to have as much of it as you like,¡° said Arciel, with a smile.


    With that, the meal was underway. Arciel went for a quiche and Olga started with a sweetbread while Claire floated herself between Sylvia and the fish to stop her short of inhaling it. Starrgort grabbed various seasonings and sauces whenever they were requested, while Boris cleaned any empty plates by way of spontaneous ingestion.


    They somehow managed to completely polish off the table without the help of Sylvia¡¯s non-euclidean stomach. But never one to be beaten, the chef populated it again with a fresh set of desserts. There were thin, freshly made crepes stuffed full of berries and cream, as well as frozen delights made possible in the summer only by way of magic.


    ¡°I can¡¯t eat another bite,¡± said Belyaev. He lightly thumped a finger against his inflated stomach as he sank into his chair as would a pile of lard. He wasn¡¯t the only one whose energy had gone entirely to digesting. The other two Paunseans were the same way. They had been exposed not only to rare ingredients but the skill of a chef whose service was reserved for royalty. It was no wonder that they basically ate until they dropped.


    It helped that the human had more resistance than the other two. It wasn¡¯t his first time eating a fancy meal served up by a noble. He had plenty of experience with that as one of the nation¡¯s foremost blade masters, but Vel¡¯khan had closer ties to the Ryllian sea than most other coastal nations. The chefs were simply more skilled than most of those who worked inland.


    ¡°How was it?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°Frustratingly delicious,¡± said Lavrentiy. ¡°It almost makes my efforts last night look like they were wasted.¡±


    ¡°I would not be so concerned,¡± said Arciel. ¡°The Paunsean flavours were as pleasing to us as the Vel¡¯khanese were to you.¡±


    ¡°You might¡¯ve felt that way about the spices, but there¡¯s no way I measure up to that chef of yours.¡± The cat stretched in his seat, extending his back and arms as far as they would go. When fully extended, his length nearly doubled. ¡°I know when I¡¯m beaten, and this time, I might as well be black and blue.¡±


    ¡°If you are so taken by it, then might you consider staying?¡±


    ¡°Staying?¡±


    ¡°Yes, as guests of the state.¡±


    Arciel summed up the earlier conversation and briefly highlighted the risks that came with remaining in Paunse, but despite her insistence, Lia¡¯s parents rejected the notion.


    ¡°We do appreciate the offer, but we aren¡¯t worried,¡± said Liliya. ¡°Tzaarkus would never harm us.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t trust him,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°He does seem a little bit abrasive if you don¡¯t know him, but he¡¯s a lot kinder than he sounds. I doubt he would hurt his own people, even if you did wind up picking a fight with him.¡±


    The lyrkress frowned. She wasn¡¯t convinced, but she accepted the explanation with a nod. ¡°Okay. Then when do you want to go back to Paunse?¡±


    ¡°Would it be okay if we returned a little later in the afternoon? I¡¯d love to explore the town.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine.¡± Claire took a deep breath. ¡°We can stop by the shop.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like that. I¡¯d like that very much,¡± said Liliya.


    And so the afternoon was spent. They explored the various districts, visited the castle, checked out the shop, and visited all its neighbours. The day was already coming to an end by the time they thought to return, so they visited a local restaurant¡ªa familiar place named Gulfweed Reef¡ªbefore they finally decided to return.


    When Claire eventually opened the portal again, she was greeted by a peculiar sight. In Vel¡¯khan, the sun was still in the middle of setting. The sky was dyed madder red, and the city was still rife with life. But Paunse was draped in darkness. The stars, which were starting to shine in the Vel¡¯khanese night sky, were hidden beneath the thunderclouds painted across its Paunsean equivalent.


    Liliya and Lavrentiy were the first to step through, with Belyaev following shortly after. He looked through the portal, waved at Olga, and then entered the Vernelle house without so much as another word.


    When Claire looked at the huskar, she found that the old lady was just as dismissive. She simply reached through the portal, took Liliya by the hand, and said the rest of her goodbyes, without so much as acknowledging the old man¡¯s departure or casting a glance at his shadow. She was starting to think that the two might have fought during their time alone.


    It was their turn next. Arciel, Claire, and Sylvia wandered through to the other side, said their goodbyes, and started down the street. They still had much to do. The brigade awaited, and there was much they had yet to learn about Crimson Rock.


    ___


    Lord Ephesus breathed a sigh as he read over his agents¡¯ reports. All of them detailed the exact same problem that he had expected to see. The only lines that still fully functioned were those that made use of instant communication. Everything else was in shambles. His messenger birds were all missing or dead, and even in-person communications would sometimes fail on account of enemy counterintelligence.


    Nearly two dozen field agents were missing in action, including those only deployed on Cadrian soil. Someone or something was picking them off, one or two at a time.


    What annoyed him most was that the killings had continued after he enforced a strict buddy system. Even when they travelled in groups of five, individual members would sometimes go missing. He was at his wit¡¯s end. Never in the millennia he served had he encountered a foe capable of picking off his servants so easily.


    A second sigh escaped his lips. And then a third and a fourth. He hadn¡¯t the slightest clue as to how to approach the problem. At least not without introducing a few holes in his surveillance network.


    ¡°Is something the matter, Progenitor?¡±


    Looking up from his desk, he found one of his children standing in the doorway. The seven-hundred-year-old spawn was dressed in a cottontail¡¯s skin and a butler¡¯s uniform. Officially, they were not related in any which way. The boy was simply one of his longtime servants, a talent he had happened to find on the street.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s nothing,¡± said Ephesus. ¡°Did you have something to report?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Progenitor. Number Fourteen has emerged from its chrysalis. Its memories appear to be largely intact.¡±


    A smile crept onto the old warlord¡¯s false face. ¡°Good. You are dismissed, Number Eight.¡±


    Nodding, the butler returned to his forward-facing duties while his master grabbed his hat from the coat rack and started down the hall. He walked through a number of secret corridors, hidden in freezers, bookshelves, and closets before locking himself up in a private bathroom and taking off his criocentaurian skin.


    Climbing into the seemingly broken toilet, he flushed himself down the drain and entered his underground lair. He found his spawn already standing at attention at the end of the tunnel, saluting in the dark bedroom whose only entrance was a thin metal pipe.


    ¡°Number Fourteen. I¡¯m glad to see that you have been revived.¡± Technically, the term was inaccurate. The spawn would only truly die in the wake of his own demise.


    ¡°Thank you, Progenitor. And good evening,¡± replied Number Fourteen.


    Ephesus took a second to look the child up and down and confirm that it had been fully restored. ¡°Number Eight reported that you still possess most of your memories. Is that correct?¡±


    ¡°Affirmative, Progenitor. I discovered a copy in the back of my mind shortly after I reawakened, however, I have no recollection of its creation. The output and source are both unknown. Treating them with caution is advised.¡±


    ¡°Let me see.¡±


    ¡°Understood, Progenitor.¡±


    Number Fourteen extended a silvery tendril, which Ephesus took and plunged straight into his head. His body spasmed, but he continued humming and hawing, unconcerned, as he perused everything that she had in her mind.


    ¡°So that¡¯s how it happened?¡± He pulled her tentacle from his face and placed a hand against his chin. ¡°It does seem a little dubious.¡±


    ¡°Affirmative. If her attacks carry a destructive property, then it is unlikely for my memory to have remained so neatly intact.¡±


    ¡°Maybe. Maybe not.¡± A smile crept across his lips. ¡°It depends.¡±


    ¡°I do not understand, Progenitor.¡± said Number Fourteen.


    ¡°You will once I reinstall your preliminary knowledge base.¡±


    The fake goat couldn¡¯t stop himself from laughing. The scenario was one that he knew all too well. A clone had revived with all the information he needed to plan his next move, and the accompanying details were crisp and clear, lacking none of the noise that a restored memory was typically meant to carry.


    It could only have meant one thing.


    Vella had intervened.


    She had pledged her allegiance, and she had pledged against the unworthy fool that was Claire Augustus.

 Chapter 384 - Another Day, Another Dungeon

    Chapter 384 - Another Day, Another Dungeon


    The brigade set out from Lia¡¯s hometown early the next morning. With everyone well rested and refreshed by the spontaneous vacation, the party sped off towards the nation¡¯s northern border. There was still much distance to be covered¡ªPaunse was nearly half a thousand kilometers across¡ªbut they escaped its range by the end of the week.


    Even without any checkpoints to signal the crossing, they knew exactly when they passed into Kryddar, courtesy of the local biology. The species themselves were unchanged; neither the shrubs, the trees, or the grasses cared much for national lines, but blessings bestowed by the nations¡¯ patron deities manifested clearly in the resulting displays.


    Catgirl country was wet and humid. There were always clouds overhead, the air was so damp that it threatened to stick to one¡¯s skin, and the forest as a whole was much cooler. The vegetation grew closely together, with few spots left uncovered and individual plants standing at only ten or twenty meters tall.


    As the land blessed by Rikael, the goddess of the sun, Kryddar was its polar opposite. Its trees were much further apart. And though their leaf structures were the same, the individuals grew far wider and taller. There were large gaps between them. The wagon could have easily passed through if not for the giant roots that interrupted the unbeaten paths. But even with the sun shining overhead and the air fairly arid, the forest was still covered with green. More sunlight meant more energy, and the strongest individuals, those who could outcompete the others for water, shone as brightly as the star above.


    While the vegetation differed primarily in its sparsity and size, the local monsters went through a dramatic shift. Those that preferred watery habitats, like beavers, capybaras, and frogs, thrived in the thunder god¡¯s domain, while lizards, snakes, and turtles positioned themselves beneath the sun goddess¡¯ grace.


    The most striking features, which only appeared a little further in the moth people¡¯s lands, were suspended within the canopy. Held in place by their own stringed forms were massive white-threaded nests woven of the finest silk. Some were smaller, roughly the size of a shield, while others had grown to such an extent that one could fit a house sized for a family of four. But while the glimmering, luscious strings extended far and wide, their capacities were hardly as expansive as they appeared.


    They were not suspended, tree-built homes, as many foreign scholars had first suspected, but places that would be lived in only twice in their lifetime. They were the cocoons that the people donned to grow from child to adult, the holes in their exteriors serving proof of their maturity. Legally, the individual pods were owned by those who wove them, for they would return again when it was time to die.


    Only then, after the corpse within withered to nothing, would the pupae be harvested and processed. It was through that specific act, the returning of a body to its place of maturation, that would produce the finest silk, the highest quality good that an individual could birth in their lifetime. A magnum opus that summed up their entire existence. And it was why the Kryddarians always retrieved the bodies of their fallen.


    Foreigners often argued that the sale of said silk was a nightmarish artifact of capitalism, but they were simply how the nation''s retirees provided for their descendants. The derived funding was what paid the wages of the garden''s defenders¡ªthe wages that ensured that the growing adolescents were kept safe as they turned to goop and reformed.


    Birthwoods like Sunbright Rest were a common sight in Kryddar. They could be found all over the nation, with at least one for every notable set of settlements. Some of the larger cities, like the capital city of Edelgrove, had as many as ten scattered around their vicinity. They were practically as common as suburbs thanks to the rapid rates at which the moth people reproduced.


    They didn''t mate and give birth as frequently as cottontails, but a given female could produce over a dozen eggs in a particularly abundant batch. In the distant past, before the state grew organized enough to accommodate and unburden new families, births often led parents to run themselves ragged. The problem was supplying all of the necessary nutrients. A newborn Kryddarian needed to eat at least five times as much as an adult¡ªten to be healthy and grow at the expected rate. Food wasn¡¯t too expensive or difficult to come by in Kryddar, but with an average clutch size of eight, it was simply unaffordable for the average family.


    Those unwilling to settle for small clutches, especially those who lived in rural areas, often wound up dead from overexertion shortly after their children began to pupate. And perhaps, that was how the Kryddarian population was naturally kept under control.


    It was a problem that had persisted until just a few hundred years prior, at which point the nation cleaned up its act and put the necessary services together. It not only provided all the food but also a full set of accompanying daycares to abate the parents¡¯ stress.


    So successful was the service that it dropped the parental death rate from sixty percent to just shy of zero. The few who still passed away were typically traditionalists who complained that the state was indoctrinating their children, but though vocal, they made up a negligible minority.


    Kryddar was even more unified than Cadria. Most of the population had lived under King Ragnar for their whole lives, and swayed by his efficiency, they had become conservative traditionalists with little interest in reform. Or at least that was how Claire had always seen it, as an outsider looking in. In reality, she doubted that there was no political strife; one could never truly be at peace with greedy, power-hungry nobles and money-grubbing merchants afoot, but either way, the nation presented itself as one whose concerns were more outward than in.


    As far as the party could tell, there was little to contradict the claim. The woodlands were calm and tranquil. Even though the nation¡¯s average level was nearly as high as Cadria¡¯s, Kryddar had none of the overt dedication to the development of military affairs. There were no troops patrolling the highways, nor any warlords training their soldiers in the wilderness.


    The only sounds not belonging to the natural world were those of merchants, local and foreign, as they peddled their wares between the major cities. And it was as they crested a hill and laid eyes on one such landmark that the party finally slowed its advance.


    ¡°What the heck is that!?¡± cried Sylvia.


    She was back to being a fox. Like all of the other critters, she was lazing on top of the carriage with Lana. Claire was, of course, counted amongst their number. Her tiniest form was not just the most comfortable, but also the most convenient. She rarely left it without reason.


    ¡°I believe it is a city," said Arciel. Her voice was a little muffled, coming from inside the carriage.


    ¡°There¡¯s no way that¡¯s a city!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It looks more like a dungeon.¡±


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    The supposed settlement in question was covered in the same silken threads that lined the Kryddarian birthwoods. But unlike the suburban territories in question, the city was not built into the woods. Nay, it stood as but a single megastructure made of a dark but lustrous material. At its core, the structure was cuboid. The central base was a giant hexahedron that extended roughly five kilometers in each dimension.


    Smaller cubes jutted out from the core, and even smaller ones were built off those. It was a veritable cascade of rotated blocks only emphasized by its position in the middle of a valley. The only abnormality in the structure was the massive flag that sat on top of it.


    ¡°That¡¯s just how Kryddarian hive cities look,¡± said Claire. ¡°They make them out of their spit.¡±


    ¡°H-huh!? W-what the heck!? I bet you¡¯re just saying that ¡®cause you¡¯re trying to trick me again. How the heck would you even know in the first place!?¡±


    ¡°One of Rubia¡¯s tutors mentioned it when I visited her last week.¡±


    ¡°Hate to say it, but she¡¯s right,¡± said Panda, who had appeared out of nowhere as usual. ¡°Kryddarians condense minerals in their bodies and excrete the excess in their saliva. They can make the stuff flexible, tough as nails, and even half the weight it should be. It sells for a pretty penny to the right buyer. Here, they call it mothimite, but you probably know it by sunsteel.¡±


    ¡°The name does bring something to mind,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I believe one of the ministers proposed using it in the weaponry, but it was rejected on account of its inconsistent quality.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, since any Tom, Dick, or Harry can make it, you can¡¯t really trust it unless you can vet the source or test it onsite. The bad stuff is real bad, but the good stuff makes for some pretty high-grade shit. Some of the blades¡¯ll probably last you until five or six hundred as long as you aren¡¯t fully specced into strength.¡±


    ¡°I think I might actually have some sunsteel needles lying around, now that you mention it,¡± said Chloe. ¡°But I don¡¯t think they look like that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it doesn¡¯t turn black unless it¡¯s naturally heat-treated like the stuff you see on the walls. Doing it the normal way makes it turn silver,¡± said Panda. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s enough about all that. I was just dropping by to say I¡¯m gonna be out of touch for a bit. Something¡¯s come up on my end.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re dropping out.¡±


    ¡°No, no, not if I can help it, at least. Trust me. Merchants never go back on their deals.¡±


    ¡°Except for when it earns them profits.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± the raccoon averted his gaze. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ll be back in touch once I manage to uhh¡­ fix my problem.¡± Lightly waving at the crowd, Panda hopped off the wagon and wandered into the bushes before abandoning his body.


    He didn¡¯t lose his rigidity and squeeze his way out of a corpse, as a lorputus would. If anything, his trick was more akin to Claire¡¯s¡ªhe ejected his mind from his matter and returned to its point of origin. The similarity between their abilities was hardly a coincidence. If anything, it was quite the opposite, seeing as how he was her uncle.


    Back in his real body, Constantius Augustus rose to his feet and slowly stretched his shoulders. The long, unkempt hair that spilled across his face was mostly black, but the roots had already fully regained their silvery sheen. Applying a fresh layer of dye each week should have been a part of his usual routine, but he had no time to concoct the mixture on the run. His brother had finally sniffed him out. It was funny for him to think that Virillius had held the grudge for the better part of a millennium. He would have thought him competent enough to have either figured it out earlier, derived the ultimate truth, or at the very least, recognized the extent of the loss that stemmed from keeping Constantius in mind. But alas, Virillius had accomplished none of the above. It was likely their uncle¡¯s fault. Ferdinand was one of the few crafty bastards capable of keeping the wool over his eyes for long, though evidently, even he eventually paid the price for attempting to fool the goddess¡¯ chosen.


    Whatever the case, the results were unchanged. Constantius had abandoned his life at his safe house and donned the guise of a wanderer. His uncommon species drove all manner of attention, but it only barely affected his ability to lie low. Even if abrupt and suspiciously uniform, the visible change in his hair colour led others to assume that his blood was less than royal. The most common subspecies had chestnut hair that stood in stark contrast to the white fur all over their lower halves, and masquerading as such an individual made for a very profitable outcome indeed.


    A loud, groaning yawn escaped his lips as he threw on his clothes and grabbed his things. He didn''t have much time. If his avian informant was correct, his brother¡¯s soldiers would be upon him within the hour. They were surprisingly competent. They had pinpointed his location based on the faintest of clues, and they had done it in record time. But he wasn¡¯t worried. He was sure to come out ahead in any game of cat and mouse.


    After all, it was he who had planted the clues to begin with. Confirming the extent of the agents¡¯ abilities would allow him to better invade their eyes going forward, and establishing a set of false patterns would turn them blind to his tricks. That was why he had ordered his familiars to supervise the points in question.


    They knew that he was a beastmaster¡ªthat much, he had gleaned from the pests that overran their houses¡ªbut they severely underestimated the extent of his power. Eliminating all the mice and birds on the scene did nothing to stop him from overhearing their conversations. All he needed to do was listen through the mosquitos, earthworms, and cockroaches. Failing that, he simply needed to tap into the parasites embedded within their bodies, or perhaps some of the sentient plants like the mandrakes that lay by the roadside.


    He may have spent only a few days in town, but every single creature within it had already fallen into his grasp.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Mr. Plinius.¡± The inn¡¯s clerk called to him as he reached the bottom of the steps. ¡°Are you heading into town today?¡±


    She was a charming little thing, a cottontail maybe just ten years old, already manning the desk. He did have to admit that it was a viable cost-saving measure, but he doubted that it would pay off in the long run. Allowing a child to run the shop unattended was a testament to the parents¡¯ irresponsibility, especially in a circumstance like the one soon impending.


    ¡°I¡¯m heading out for a walk. I¡¯ll be back in a bit,¡± said ¡®Plinius of Rodna.¡¯ He lightly waved at the girl and flashed his best smile, a necessary procedure to ensure she remembered his face. If Virillius¡¯ agents¡ªtechnically they served Ephesus, but the details were hardly relevant¡ªbehaved the way he expected, the seemingly unnecessary effort would soon prove itself a worthwhile investment.


    Constantius kept his lips curved even after he slipped out the door, but his mask warped as he pulled his cloak over his face. It went from calm and gentle, warm and sweet, to about as crooked as one could find. It was the same smirk he wore as Panda, though it was less noticeable there courtesy of the accompanying inhuman face.


    He just couldn¡¯t help it.


    His brother¡¯s agents were already playing into his trap. His birds, his rats, and roaches all confirmed that they had just arrived in town, and that they had immediately gotten stuck on the obvious red herring that was his graffitied note.


    They were racking their brains and heatedly debating the meanings of specific phrases that meant nothing as he got away. They were fools, complete and utter fools incapable of uncovering even three of the seven hidden clues he had laid out before them, or at least that was what he thought before one of them suddenly appeared in front of him.


    The man in question was a standard reverse centaur with the body of a man and the head of a horse. The six wings that grew from his back and the blades that grew from his arms implied that he was thrice ascended. It wasn''t the most common set of racial traits, but Constantius recognized them regardless as those of an Enlightened Horsehead Herald¡ªone of the obnoxious racial priests whose caustic blood burned those who rent their flesh.


    But as far as the cervitaur was concerned, the man¡¯s abilities were irrelevant.


    Closing the gap in an instant, he grabbed the agent by the face and filled his head with mana. It wasn¡¯t a lethal strike, but a simple demonstration of a beastmaster¡¯s capabilities¡ªa demonstration of the fact that, just like animals, insects, and monsters, people could easily be tamed.

 Chapter 385 - Another Day, Another Dungeon II

    Chapter 385 - Another Day, Another Dungeon II


    Claire fought back the urge to yawn as the turtles dragged the carriage through the hive-city¡¯s gate. She found her eyes drawn to the square apartments built into the megastructure¡¯s ramparts. Like everything else, they were made of translucent stone, and looking past the walls was as easy as squinting one¡¯s eyes. If not for the curtains and carpets that covered their interior walls, they would be entirely exposed.


    The scene itself was interesting enough; her lack of vigour stemmed almost entirely from the lecture that had accompanied their admission. The guard went on for what felt like an hour¡ªabout two minutes in reality¡ªabout the various rules, regulations, and attractions that distinguished Kryddar from the surrounding nations. He mentioned at some point or other that Svarborough, the city they had arrived at, was also known as the city of darkness, but Claire couldn¡¯t see how. Though the stone built into the walls was black, the sun¡¯s rays passed through them unhindered. If anything, the walls almost seemed to focus the light; the world within the structure was far brighter than the one beyond it.


    Almost all of the buildings were made up of the same obsidian material that adorned its outermost walls. Still, they were easily distinguishable. Colourful, illustrated sign boards were carved straight into the buildings¡¯ facades.


    The only problem was that, for ground dwellers, half the buildings were inaccessible. Many of the large stone constructions were suspended from the ceiling, either attached directly to a crystalline stalactite or indirectly tied to one with a band of silk. The people fluttered through the air, moving to and fro in an orderly fashion. There were no obvious reasons for them to stay in line, but they all moved together nonetheless.


    ¡°This is certainly a rather impressive city,¡± said Arciel. ¡°But given its structure, I cannot fathom an approach to its continued expansion.¡±


    ¡°There isn¡¯t really much room for it to grow in the first place,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°Perhaps not. I presume they must enforce limits on birth and immigration.¡± The city was surrounded by birthwoods. To expand the walls, if that were even possible, was to entail their premature destruction.


    ¡°Oh! Maybe Claire knows?¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Since the Kryddarians are supposed to be close Cadrian allies ¡®n stuff.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± said Claire. ¡°I never paid attention in geography class.¡±


    ¡°Uhmm... I¡¯m pretty sure this falls under biology or politics or something,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t pay attention in those classes either.¡±


    ¡°I dunno why you expected anything different from her,¡± said Jules. ¡°Last time she said anything useful was before the Cadrians kicked our asses.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not true!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°She warned us that one time we were gonna be attacked by bandits.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and they were barely level two-fucking-hundred. Any one of us could¡¯ve handed them with our eyes covered and our hands tied behind our backs.¡±


    ¡°I do believe we have allowed ourselves to stray from the point,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Perhaps it would be best if we returned to the agenda?¡±


    ¡°You said we were supposed to gather information on a dungeon, right?¡± said Krail. The elf kept his eyes on the road ahead as he spoke. He had a tight grip on the reins and he pulled them whenever the turberi sped up. ¡°I think you said it was called Crimson Rock?¡±


    ¡°That is correct,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Belyaev affirmed that it was a rather notorious location. I do not believe that it will be difficult to locate.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m more worried about what comes after,¡± said Krail. ¡°I¡¯ve been through a lot of dungeons in my time, but I¡¯ve never heard of one that would hold a master swordsman¡¯s interest. I¡¯m a little concerned about its notoriety as well. That probably means that it¡¯s one of the more dangerous ones, either that or it doesn¡¯t really produce much in terms of payout.¡±


    ¡°There is hardly a need for speculation. Let us begin by querying the locals,¡± said Arciel. She poked her head out of the front of the carriage and looked around. ¡°Might there be a location where adventurers or information brokers might gather?¡±


    ¡°It never hurts to try a tavern,¡± said Krail. ¡°We¡¯re a little early for dinner, but we should be able to catch the rush if we hang around.¡±


    ¡°Fucking hell, finally,¡± said Jules. ¡°I¡¯m literally starving my ass off.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure you even have an ass,¡± said Chloe. She poked her head over and tried looking at his shell, but he immediately spun around and half-closed the lid.


    ¡°Your fault for skipping lunch,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°My fault? My fault!?¡± Completely forgetting about Chloe, Jules erupted from his shell and threw it all the way open as he pounded a fist against its rim. ¡°How the fuck is it my fault!?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a picky eater.¡±


    ¡°I literally would¡¯ve eaten anything else. But your dumb ass had to buy ten fucking pounds of clams!¡±


    ¡°They were on sale. And I don¡¯t see how it matters.¡±


    The giant talking clam could only press his face into the side of his shell as the tiny qiligon innocently tilted her head. The worst part of it all was that he couldn¡¯t tell if the reaction was genuine. His only choice was to heave a defeated sigh and shut out the world around him.


    The rest of the party looked for a tavern in the meantime. There were quite a few around the city, but most were suspended in the air. They didn¡¯t even have stools or chairs for the patrons and only served those who were capable of flight. At a glance, it seemed like a form of discrimination, and in fact, that was exactly what it was. Only, the audience they aimed to filter was not foreigners but minors. It was impossible for a wingless caterpillar to make its way up to an adult-oriented establishment.


    There were still a few on the ground to accommodate visitors, but they were more heavily regulated. The soldiers positioned outside the doorways glared fiercely at the children who passed them by. Larvae were only allowed to enter the non-alcoholic locations instead¡ªa practice that few other nations could be bothered to adopt.


    For most species, alcohol was harmless. The accompanying disorientation was temporary, and any health lost was sure to be restored by the time the drink was digested. But for Kryddarians, the effects were far more pronounced. Just one drink was enough to bring a grown man to his knees and cleave his health down to a third. A caterpillar could easily die from a sip.


    Further differentiating the alcoholic establishments from their dry counterparts was the precise construction of the walls. While most buildings were fairly see-through, drinking places came equipped with opaque barriers. They tried to make sure that the children couldn¡¯t even see inside of the establishments.


    The party arrived at one such location after a brief delay. It was located on the eastern side of the town, tucked away beneath the ramp that led to the building¡¯s exterior. A quick glance confirmed that it was clearly aimed at foreigners and travelers; there were a few places where one could park a wagon situated by the door.


    The bouncers standing outside were far from friendly; they scrutinized the party and scrunched up their faces when they caught sight of Lana. Still, they allowed everyone inside without voicing their complaints or suspicions. If anything, it was the brigade that wound up complaining.


    ¡°What the hell? Why¡¯s this place so empty?¡± Asked Jules.


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    There were exactly three people inside the building, all of whom were drunk out of their minds. The two Kryddarians were outright unconscious, while the only catgirl was brooding in a corner with pen and paper in hand. She was the only person in the building still awake; there wasn¡¯t even any staff out and about.


    ¡°Mreep,¡± cooed Claire.


    ¡°The fuck is that even supposed to mean?¡± asked the clam.


    ¡°I think she¡¯s saying that you¡¯re an idiot, and that Kryddarians are nocturnal,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Nocturnal my ass! Did you not see all the fuckers flying around the city!? And aren¡¯t they literally supposed to be the sun god¡¯s people!? What the fuck do you mean they sleep during the day!?¡±


    ¡°Mnnrreeep.¡±


    ¡°She says that those were the early risers,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And she doesn¡¯t know why they sleep during the day either.¡±


    ¡°I do believe that one¡¯s sleep patterns have little to do with one¡¯s faith,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I remain faithful to Griselda, in spite of my diurnal schedule. It is for her control over the tides and the many other aspects of our lives that we dedicate our worship. It is likely that the Kryddarians function in much the same way.¡±


    ¡°They need trees,¡± said Lana. ¡°And trees need sunlight.¡±


    ¡°Eh, guess I can make enough sense out of that one,¡± said Jules. ¡°But anyway, that isn¡¯t the point. If you fucking knew, then why the hell didn¡¯t you say something earlier?¡±


    ¡°Mreep.¡±


    ¡°She says that, apparently, since you don¡¯t think she says anything useful, she figured she might as well not say anything at all.¡±


    ¡°Motherfucker¡­¡±


    Claire mreeped triumphantly while the clam banged his face into his shell.


    ¡°If us coming here works out to walking into a bar in the middle of the night, then logic says we should probably look for something along the lines of a diner,¡± said Krail. ¡°Maybe something that does breakfast and lunch?¡±


    ¡°I suppose it would not hurt to make the attem¡ª¡±


    Arciel stopped in the middle of her sentence when one of the Kryddarians suddenly straightened his back and floated off his seat. His head facing the sky and his whole body hunched over, he slowly floated over to the front desk with a groan. He almost looked like a zombie.


    ¡°Either shut up and take a goddamn seat or get the hell out. It¡¯s too damn early for all this chatting,¡± he said.


    A closer inspection revealed that the giant white moth was wearing an apron over his clothes. Even covered in wrinkles and stains, one could vaguely make out a logo that matched the one carved into the stone right behind him. If not the owner, he was clearly a member of the staff.


    ¡°Would you happen to be aware of any locations where adventurers or information brokers might gather at this time?¡± asked Arciel, unperturbed.


    The man furrowed his brow and gave her an incredulous look.


    ¡°Oh, gods damn it. Not this again. Why the hell do you stupid foreigners always show up and ask the same goddamn shit? Fuck off! Go check the fucking bureau.¡±


    ¡°And where might we find this bureau?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°Center of town with all the others. Now get the fuck out or I¡¯m calling the guards.¡± The moth grumbled about outsiders as he floated into the back and collapsed on top of another table.


    ¡°Oh, great. No food then,¡± said Jules. ¡°Didn¡¯t know the locals were assholes.¡±


    ¡°Honestly, seems like it¡¯s more of a problem with this particular establishment¡¯s owner. The folks we met on the road were pretty friendly,¡± said Krail, ¡°and the guards aren¡¯t so bad either.¡± The old elf waved at the pair outside the door as he passed them. They didn¡¯t break position, but they did at least return a set of silent nods.


    ¡°So, what now? Are we going to head over to this stupid bureau of theirs, or are we gonna find something to eat?¡± asked Jules.


    ¡°Let¡¯s head to the bureau first,¡± said Chloe. ¡°It¡¯s still a little early for dinner, and I¡¯d like to find a place that does something other than breakfast.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, fine. I get it, you don¡¯t need to do the whole song and dance,¡± said the clam. He breathed a sigh and reluctantly climbed into the back of the carriage, which shot off towards the city centre as soon as everyone was on board.


    The so-called bureau didn¡¯t immediately stand out on account of the waiter¡¯s less-than-specific description. There were at least twenty different bureaus in the center of town, all of which were labeled with silly names, like the bureau of snacks, shoplifting, and stunt doubles, or the bureau of ghosts, gambling, and generous goblins. It didn¡¯t help that almost all of them were closed. Even those whose lights were still on seemed largely deprived of occupants.


    The signs on the doors stated that they weren¡¯t slated to open until nine in the evening, which, according to the giant, six-sided clock suspended in the middle of the square, was still a solid four hours away. It took venturing down half the street to finally find one that was open. The so-called bureau of dish soap, domestic violence, and dream denial was one of the few that remained fairly well-staffed.


    A few quick questions later, and one of the clerks pointed the party down the road. Though its name barely evoked any hints of its function, the bureau of egg hunting, embezzlement, and episodic endeavours was responsible for governing adventurers and their adjacent affairs.


    ¡°Are we certain this stands as the correct location?¡± asked Arciel. The building they had arrived in front of was one of the few they had previously passed over. The sign said it was open at all times of day, but like many of the others, it was devoid of life.


    ¡°It should be right.¡± Chloe adjusted her glasses as she took a few steps back and double-checked the signboard. ¡°Maybe we can try shouting to see if they¡¯re just in the back?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a bell,¡± said Claire. ¡°Idiot.¡±


    She floated inside of the building, landed in front of one of the desks, and tapped the bell sitting on top of it. It made an awfully loud noise, a shrill ringing that sounded more like an alarm than a means to summon a public servant. Still, it did its job. A clerk soon ventured out from behind a closed door, dragging his feet and yawning as he made his way over to the desk.


    The government employee in question was especially large for a Kryddarian moth. His lack of self-discipline certainly served in part as justification¡ªhis belly was at least a full standard deviation rounder than the average and he didn¡¯t seem to be lifting off the ground even as he flapped his wings¡ªbut he was also of a larger build to begin with. All four of his arms sported biceps that bulged in spite of his obesity, and he was tall enough to put a lyrkrian Claire to shame.


    ¡°Good evening,¡± he said, through a yawn. ¡°How can I help you?¡±


    It wasn¡¯t until he scratched the back of his fuzzy white head and rubbed his compound eyes that he finally caught sight of the supposed customer.


    ¡°Mreep.¡±


    ¡°Err¡­ hi,¡± he said. ¡°Do you speak Marish?¡±


    ¡°Mreep.¡±


    ¡°Guessing that¡¯s a no.¡± He leaned on the counter and moved to poke her, but she retreated in time with the motion of his hand and maintained the amount of distance between them. That, of course, only led the man to grumble. ¡°Alright, look. You¡¯re a cutie, that¡¯s for sure, but you can¡¯t go playing with that thing for fun, alright?¡± He pointed at the bell, which Claire promptly whacked with her tail. ¡°I¡¯m trying to sleep on the job.¡±


    ¡°I do believe that to be clear from the lapse in your attention,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Slowly raising his head, the moth found a group of customers standing by the doorway, though some of them looked much more sentient than others. ¡°If you¡¯re looking for the bureau of parades, perjury, and pet care, you¡¯re in the wrong place,¡± he said, through a yawn. ¡°They¡¯re just across the street and the entrance to the ICU is out back.¡±


    ¡°We are not looking for anything of the sort. We simply wish for some information on dungeons in Kryddar.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± The man raised a hand and masked another yawn. ¡°Got any specific dungeons in mind? Or are you just looking for an overview?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps you may know something of Crimson Rock?¡±


    The moth furrowed his brow.


    ¡°Is there a problem?¡±


    ¡°Nah,¡± he said. ¡°I was just thinking that you didn¡¯t look very Cadrian.¡±


    ¡°What does that have to do with anything?¡± asked Chloe.


    ¡°They¡¯re normally the only ones that ask anything about it. I can tell you what I know, hell, I¡¯ll even give you a pamphlet, but we¡¯ve gotta go through some formalities first.¡± He rummaged under his desk for a few moments before pulling out a few sheets of paper.


    ¡°And what is this?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°A waiver.¡± The moth grabbed a quill off his desk and pointed at a list roughly halfway down the cliff. ¡°Before I tell you anything, you have to acknowledge that you¡¯re aware the dungeon is extremely dangerous, and that you agree to all of the terms. So just to quickly go over all of them, it¡¯s not recommended for anyone under level nine hundred, the dungeon kills more than half the people who raid it, it inflicts cursed wounds that are extremely difficult to heal, and we¡¯re not responsible for anything that happens to you while you¡¯re inside. Oh, and you¡¯ll have to pay the standard information fee, which¡¯ll be two silver pieces.¡±


    ¡°I do not believe that to be a problem,¡± said Arciel. She accepted the quill, coated its tip, and signed the page while Chloe produced the necessary payment. ¡°We are rather confident in our abilities, and one of us bears a divine quest for its completion.¡±


    ¡°One of you?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Her.¡± Arciel lifted the tiny qiligon by the armpits and raised her closer to the man¡¯s eye level.


    ¡°Right¡­ My bad for prying, I guess.¡± He grabbed the page and filed it away in one of the cabinets that lined the wall behind him. He quickly replaced it with a massive binder whose pages were marked with all sorts of colourful tags. ¡°You might want to take a seat,¡± he said, with a tired sigh. ¡°There¡¯s a lot to cover.¡±

 Chapter 386 - Another Day, Another Dungeon III

    Chapter 386 - Another Day, Another Dungeon III


    The sole clerk running the bureau of egg hunting, embezzlement, and episodic endeavours put on a pair of comically small glasses and quickly flipped through his binder. He didn''t stop until he arrived at a page almost immediately adjacent to its back cover. Marked with a bright red tag, it had the words Crimson Rock scribbled front and center.


    ¡°So first things first, let¡¯s talk equipment. The dungeon is set in an active volcano, but don¡¯t be fooled, you¡¯ll need a lot more than your standard heatproof gear. It¡¯s got alternating lava levels and water levels, so you¡¯ll need to bring equipment for underwater expeditions as well. We¡¯ve gotten a few reports that it¡¯s possible to make it down to the sixth floor or so without swimming if you force it, but it isn¡¯t gonna be easy. Oh, and you¡¯ll also need enchanted weapons for anyone that relies heavily on physical damage. Some of the monsters don¡¯t respond to anything but elemental damage unless you¡¯ve got enough muscle to tear right through them, while others¡¯ll probably melt down an ordinary, unenchanted blade like it¡¯s nothing. Some of the bosses are also pretty resistant to physical damage in the first place, so you¡¯ll¡­¡±


    The man continued to drone on, but despite his best efforts, he failed to spoil too much about the dungeon. His lecture was boring enough that Claire soon found herself asleep.


    The boring office building was replaced by a veil of darkness with five distinct doors floating in the space around her. Three, she recognized immediately. They were the usual portals that took her to the usual places. The fourth registered its function after a few moments of staring¡ªit was the hatch she needed to break open for her spirit to escape her body¡ªbut the fifth remained as something of a mystery. The only thing she could tell was that it gave off a sort of foreboding pressure; whatever lay on the other side was imposing enough to crush her under the weight of its presence.


    Still, after inspecting it from up close, failing to see through the lock hole, and playfully prodding it with her tail, she wrapped her tiny body around the handle and twisted it wide open.


    The darkness vanished as the door sucked her inside. Her colourless world was quickly transformed into a canvas of yellow, pink, orange, and blue. She couldn¡¯t tell if the sun was setting or rising, but whatever the case, it was barely over the horizon, dyeing the clouds in its vibrant colours.


    She was far enough from the planet¡¯s surface that they only dotted half her vision¡ªeverything at eye level and above was more space than sky¡ªand even then, the individual blobs were impossibly difficult to make out. Still, together, they formed a veil that heavily obscured the world below. She could barely see the ocean. It was so far away that it completely lost its glimmer. The roaring waves were completely invisible, even with her telescopic eyes operating at their maximum output.


    The few bits and pieces that she did see quickly revealed that the world was not the one she knew. Too many islands dotted the oceans and the continents were clearly misshapen. Though she only barely recalled the specifics, she could tell that they looked nothing like the ones she had spotted when Griselda took her above the clouds. The average continent size was another one of the most prominent differentiators. There were no large pieces of land, like there were on Mara, only small chunks that floated near the planet¡¯s equator. The poles were entirely empty, devoid of anything but sea. That much, she could say for certain after doing two full loops around its core.


    Further denying the world¡¯s identity was the giant creature that occasionally poked its head out from the seas. The grand serpent was far taller than even the most impressive mountains, and its jagged teeth were so massive that they put some countries to shame. She began to doubt her eyes when she finally found the rest of its body. Its tailfin alone was enough to eclipse a continent. It almost didn''t seem possible for such a creature to fit in the ocean to begin with.


    Only when she was done marveling at its presence did she take a deep breath and ascend to the structure with which she shared the sky. Though suspended in the air like a Cadrian warship, it was without any shared features. It was but a single tiny building, sitting on a cloud far above any other. There was no garden, no courtyard, no castle. Just a humble abode.


    She had to climb further to reach it. The sky turned dark. The planet shrank to the size of a bean. And yet, she saw fire flickering in the window. The shadows danced against the cosmic background, present only in and around the tiny stone hut.


    Gulping, Claire approached the front door and lightly rapped her claws against it. The knock was practically inaudible, overshadowed by the crackling of flame. And yet, a clear voice rang from within.


    ¡°Enter.¡±


    The door slid open, guided by a vector not of Claire¡¯s making. Its movement revealed a cozy little space that resembled a kitchen, a bedroom, and a living room all at once. A bird woman¡ªthe building¡¯s only occupant¡ªblew a burning breath into the cauldron as she stirred it with the ladle between her talons. A burst of steam erupted from the pot and, with it, a pleasant, herbal scent.


    ¡°Take a seat.¡±


    Claire planted herself on the cushion sitting atop the table. For a little while, that was where she remained, observing curiously as the homeowner continued to work on her pot. She was effectively a harpy. Her arms were wings and her feet were talons, albeit of a different sort than Claire¡¯s. As far as technicalities went, her upper body was completely exposed; anyone capable of remaining unblinded in the face of her fiery figure could see the precise size and shape of her breasts. Her lower half was made slightly more decent. The ashborn feathers that sprouted from her avian parts obscured the sightlines of any would-be onlookers and guarded her divine decency.


    Her body was not wreathed in fire, but made of it. The source of the flickering light.


    ¡°You¡¯re Allegra¡¯s student. The one that she raised like a daughter.¡±


    ¡°Raised is a strong word.¡±


    ¡°Yes, and I meant it.¡±


    The bird assumed a less humanoid form upon joining Claire at the table. Shrinking down to a similar size, she turned into an unfamiliar bird. Though certainly a true apex predator, she looked neither like a hawk nor an eagle. If anything, her shape was a little closer to that of a heron, featuring long legs, a wide wingspan, and a long, jagged mouthpiece.


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    ¡°Allegra was one of my brightest disciples, and one of the few never swayed by Vella¡¯s charm.¡±


    ¡°What charm?¡±


    The bird broke into a fit of laughter. Fire erupted from her body with every snort and giggle, and her plumage, which started as a mix of yellows and reds, turned a vibrant white. The flames were so burning hot that the table began to melt; the stone used in its construction was reduced to nothing but puddles of magma, only to reform again after a brief delay.


    ¡°I¡¯ve always wondered the exact same thing. All your countrymen seem to love her, even though she leads them astray.¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°Most of them are idiots.¡±


    ¡°Most people are,¡± said the bird, ¡°regardless of the state of their mortality.¡± The cauldron drifted over to the table as she spoke. It was accompanied by a pair of tiny cups, both of which were taken off the shelves by the goddess¡¯ vectors. The same magical forces ladled them full of tea and escorted them to the table. Claire¡¯s cup was set down in front of her, while the bird¡¯s was brought straight to her beak.


    It seemed rude and awkward to simply sit around, so Claire followed the phoenix''s lead and lifted her drink in her tiny arms. The contents were light amber, and the flavour was almost identical to one of the blends she recalled from Rubia¡¯s memories.


    ¡°Chrysanthemum and peppermint,¡± said Claire.


    The goddess smiled¡ªdespite her avian visage, it was easy to read her expression¡ªbut she didn¡¯t say anything else until she finished her drink.


    ¡°My original plan was to observe from arm¡¯s length, as I always have. I never thought that there was any point in evaluating your performance. I know exactly what you can and can¡¯t do. Because I see everything that happens beneath the sky.¡± She magically pulled another cup from the pot and floated it in the space beside her. ¡°But I changed my mind when you crossed into my domain.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because you are one of Allegra¡¯s. And I can¡¯t leave you in the state you¡¯re in.¡± The goddess took a sip from her cup and blew a tuft of flame. The tiny fireball floated across the table, fizzling out as it drew closer to the lyrkress¡¯ body. ¡°That didn''t even feel hot to you, did it?¡±


    Claire shook her head. The flame had dissipated before it reached her, but she doubted she would''ve felt it, even if it hadn''t. It had only been backed by the faintest hint of magic.


    ¡°That spell¡¯s heat had nothing to do with magic, divinity, or even your elevated resistance. You would have felt its heat so long as the conditions were met.¡± The bird¡ªRikael, goddess of the sun¡ªraised her cup to her beak again. ¡°Fire is the element of passion. And you are running on nothing but ash and smolder.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°No, but I do. And with this, so can you.¡± A fire manifested in the space between them. A tiny, flickering flame as transient as a candle¡¯s light. ¡°Tell me, Claire Augustus, why do you continue on this arduous path? What would bring you joy, happiness beyond all else? What is your greatest burning desire?¡±


    ¡°To kill every Pollux.¡±


    For a moment, the fire flickered. It almost seemed to explode as it turned from a matchlight to something closer to the size of a fist. But it shrank as quickly as it grew. Before long, it was back to its original size.


    ¡°Try again.¡±


    ¡°To overcome my father.¡± There was another burst. It was greater than the last, coming closer to the size of a soup bowl. Still, it wrinkled all the same.


    ¡°Again.¡±


    ¡°To grow stronger and ascend.¡±


    The flame didn¡¯t even move.


    ¡°One more time.¡±


    Claire eyed the ember, but went without a verbal response. There was nothing she could think of that outstripped her wish to outdo her father.


    ¡°You see? You have no true passion. There is nothing that you can think of that whips your heart into frenzy. You are nothing but a cold, empty shell, burdening yourself with the guise of duty. Camaraderie is not a bad thing, and neither is taking responsibility for your actions. But to truly shine brightly, you must seek something to fervently chase, a great desire that will never cease to invigorate your spirit.¡± The goddess smiled. ¡°And finding that will be my quest to you.¡±


    Log Entry 854736


    You have received a quest - Reach for the Stars


    Primary Objective: Satisfy Rikael with a demonstration of passion.


    Reward: A blessing from the goddess of the sun.


    Rikael seemed confident, supremely so, but Claire looked over the quest with her lips twisted into a frown.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± she said. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s pretty self-evident. You show no interest in anything, the few motivations you have are based in empty hatred, and you¡¯ve now gone two years in a row without even celebrating your birthday. It''s time for that to change.¡±


    The goddess¡¯ intent stare was met with a dubious blink.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that matters. And this year was the only one I skipped. Last year was Alfred¡¯s fault. I didn¡¯t even know it passed.¡±


    ¡°Still, you skipped it. And this year, you didn¡¯t even tell your closest friends when it was.¡±


    ¡°I still don¡¯t see how that matters.¡±


    Rikael sighed. ¡°Then you can start by finding out.¡±


    A trill escaping her beak, she lightly flapped her wings and crafted a gust of wind. It was just a light breeze, but it came with a wave of nausea. The dizzy spell delayed the lyrkress¡¯ reaction; it took her a moment to realise that she had been ejected from the heavenly home. She continued to pick up speed as she passed through the sky, the seas, and a realm of fiery crimson. And then, all of a sudden, as the planet shrank in the distance, she was placed right back in her body.


    The accompanying pain drove her eyes to snap open, but like the ringing in her ears, it was only there for an instant.


    ¡°...rty¡¯s ballistae didn¡¯t work, even with enchanted bolts, but they¡¯re fairly confident that they were on the right track. And that¡¯s pretty much all the info that anyone¡¯s been willing to part with.¡± The clerk yawned as he set his quill back on the table. ¡°Any more questions?¡±


    ¡°Would you recommend visiting one of the merchants in town to procure our supplies?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°Nah, I wouldn¡¯t bother. The whole area¡¯s filled with dungeons, so you should be able to get everything you need for cheaper in Essetofte.¡±


    ¡°Excellent,¡± said Arciel. She rose from her seat with an inordinately thick pamphlet in hand. ¡°Thank you for your time. I suspect you shall soon hear news of our achievement.¡±


    ¡°Good luck,¡± said the clerk. ¡°I¡¯ll be praying for you.¡± He rose from his seat as well, and with another yawn, made his way back into the building¡¯s interior. All he left, before passing through the door, was a haphazard over-the-shoulder wave with one of his four hands.


    ¡°By the gods. That took fucking forever,¡± said Jules.


    ¡°Perhaps, but we have learned much from the discourse,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Let us quickly find ourselves a meal and a place to stay the night. I would like to set out early, so that we might enter the dungeon even a moment sooner.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t say I disagree.¡± A frown upon his lips, Jules practically threw himself out the door and back into the carriage. ¡°Come on, hurry it up. I''m fucking starving.¡±

 Chapter 387 - Another Day, Another Dungeon IV

    Chapter 387 - Another Day, Another Dungeon IV


    The night came and went. With an awfully floral dinner crammed down their gullets and a night'' under their belts, the northern brigade departed from the city at the crack of dawn. More than half the members were still drowsy, but they were accustomed enough to the carriage that they had no trouble napping on the road. The accelerated pace at which they pushed their packturtles only served to better rock the carriage and send them off to sleep.


    In all of the other countries they passed, the sun was an indicator of safe travel¡ªthere was too much traffic during the day for most brigands to be out and about. But as per the corpses strewn across the road, Kryddar stood in perfect opposition; the local ne¡¯er-do-wells most often emerged around noon.


    Of course, one could hardly judge their identities based on their ragged mugs alone, but all signs seemed to suggest that the bodies belonged to outlaws. For one, there were no wagons or other transports nearby, as was typical of the scene of a robbery, and the murderers had failed to strip the victims¡¯ belongings. The armour they wore was hardly top notch, but it was decent enough to be worth a pretty penny. No self-respecting thief could have possibly left the free money untouched.


    Further adding to the confusion were the bodies¡¯ excellent conditions. Most sported only a single wound¡ªa distinct, clear mark to denote a perfect deathblow. Even those who were slashed multiple times had only clean cuts on their persons. And yet, they were haphazard, careless, seemingly conducted by someone who hadn¡¯t thought much of the enemies at hand. A band of thieves was more likely to have produced a set of messier canvases.


    Of course, that still did not guarantee that the perpetrator was not a criminal. The evidence pointed just as readily to a slasher or psychopath as it did a warrior acting in self-defense, but the party proceeded at full speed regardless. It didn¡¯t really matter who was responsible. They were coming up on the dungeon, and everyone was itching to conquer it. Or at least that was what Claire thought before she heard a voice in the wind.


    Blinking rapidly, she tilted her head and stared off into the distance. Her ears twitched when she raised them overhead, moving to and fro where she picked up the distant sound.


    ¡°Claire?¡± Sylvia groggily raised her head and yawned. Like most of the others, she had opted to nap the morning away. ¡°W-wait Claire!? W-what are you doing!? Stop! That tickles!¡±


    Despite her complaints, Claire continued to bury her face into the fox''s tail. She slithered roughly half her body inside, leaving only her own tail to protrude from the tip of the fuzzy appendage.


    ¡°Quiet. I¡¯m hiding.¡± The lyrkress¡¯ voice was muffled, barely audible on account of all the fur.


    ¡°From what?¡±


    ¡°Nothing important. Now stop complaining and start pretending that this is normal.¡±


    ¡°How the heck am I supposed to do that!?¡±


    ¡°By acting like nothing is wrong.¡±


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ I guess I can try.¡±


    Sylvia raised her own ears and looked around the forest, but she couldn''t find anything worth noting. Eventually, after a few minutes of being on high alert, she curled up again and went right back to bed.


    She remained half asleep until she heard the stomping of hooves. There were five sets in all, traveling together with guards posted both in front and behind. The caravan stood out immediately on account of the accompanying species. While there were certainly some moths in the mix, most of the merchants and escorts were foreigners¡ªcentaurs. And if their bloodstained armour was any indication, it was they who slew the brigands.


    Sylvia sprang to her feet again. Uncertain of what to do, she reached for her tail and tried to produce her wand, only to find her fingers stuck on Claire¡¯s forehead.


    ¡°Calm down,¡± whispered the snake-moose. ¡°They''re not with the army.¡±


    ¡°Then why are you hiding?¡±


    ¡°Because.¡±


    ¡°Because what!?¡±


    ¡°Just because.¡±


    ¡°Would the two of you mind sharing the contents of your conversation?¡± Asked Ciel. ¡°It is rather difficult to hear your whispers through the ceiling, and I suspect it would be best for the rest of us to have our worries placated as well.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to worry about,¡± said Claire. ¡°They¡¯re merchants.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± asked Chloe. ¡°They seem to be eyeing us pretty suspiciously.¡± The merchants¡¯ guards had their eyes fixed on the Vel¡¯khanese carriage and their weapons gripped tightly in their hands. They were clearly ready to attack at a moment¡¯s notice.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡±


    The brigade, which was already a little bit faster than the mercantile group, sped up as it gained on the caravan¡¯s rear. Though such an act might have seemed suspicious, it was also a common courtesy. To follow behind the merchants was effectively to take advantage of their safety measures despite not contributing thereto. Such practices were looked down upon and often served as a source of strife between large companies and stragglers. Not to mention, a trailing group was even more suspicious than one that pressed ahead.


    Krail, who was in the driver¡¯s seat as usual, waved at the Cadrian troupe when they passed them, but that was the extent of their interaction. The guards kept a careful eye on the outsiders even after they got out in front of them. It almost might have seemed irrational, but with the amount of Cadrian blood on their collective hands, the scrutiny was well deserved.


    ¡°I can¡¯t put my finger on why, but I feel like I¡¯ve seen them before,¡± said Krail. He looked over his shoulder and through the back of the carriage, his eyes fixed on the curious emblem inscribed into the other group¡¯s wagons. It looked like a bottle above a flower, and the text inscribed beneath it attested to the company¡¯s status as a state-sanctioned trader.


    ¡°I do not believe we previously encountered any such group,¡± said Arciel. ¡°No centaur-adjacent encounter has proven anything but hostile.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯ve seen their logo before,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°Claire probably knows who they are, but I don¡¯t think she¡¯s gonna talk,¡± said Sylvia.


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    ¡°Well, either way, we¡¯ll have plenty of time to find out while we¡¯re in town,¡± said Krail. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be coming up on it soon.¡±


    ¡°Have we been on the road for that long already?¡± asked Chloe. She climbed out in front of the carriage and looked down the road. ¡°I don¡¯t see any giant cubes anywhere. Are you sure it¡¯s around here?¡±


    ¡°At least according to the map, it is.¡± Krail scanned the paper in his hands before scratching the back of his head. ¡°Should be right under that hill, up ahead.¡±


    Following the old man¡¯s finger, the maid found a gradual, unimpressive slope whose peak was marked by a narrow bridge. But nothing seemed to show even as they crested it. Forested hills and valleys extended as far as the eye could see, with nothing to break them up but the suspended silken roadways that cut across the sky.


    ¡°That¡¯s weird. We should at least be able to see it by now.¡± Shielding his eyes from the sun, he raised his eyes to the sky to check that it wasn¡¯t afloat. ¡°Yeah, I dunno. I¡¯ve got nothing.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s probably underground,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I can hear a bunch of people noises coming from under us.¡±


    ¡°How the hell are we supposed to get to it if it¡¯s underground?¡± asked the elf.


    ¡°Uhmmm, dunno. Dig, maybe?¡±


    ¡°Somehow, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s right,¡± said Chloe, with an awkward smile. ¡°There has to be an entrance around here somewhere.¡±


    ¡°You guys are fucking idiots,¡± grumbled Jules. ¡°Move. Give me the reins.¡± He steered the wagon off the road and drove it into the forest. He stopped at each of the clearings he encountered, scrutinizing them while the party looked on.


    ¡°So it kinda looks like whatever you¡¯re doing isn¡¯t working,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Just shut up and let me do my thing,¡± said the clam, with a grumble.


    It took investigating a fourth open space for his eternal frown to warp into a smirk. The forest floor, which was angled ever so slightly, featured a massive stone door no smaller than one of Svarborough¡¯s gates.


    ¡°Told you.¡± A smirk crossed his lips as he descended from his seat, approached the gate¡¯s lever, and gave it a good old yank. Surely enough, the entrance slid right open to reveal a long, downward path that led right into the earth.


    ¡°How interesting,¡± said Krail. ¡°How did you know how to find it?¡±


    The clam shrugged. ¡°My old village had something similar. Only difference was that we were underwater, so our doors were a bit harder to hide.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that make them easier to hide?¡± asked Chloe.


    ¡°Are you stupid?¡± The clam rolled his eyes. ¡°You aren¡¯t stuck on the ground underwater and we don¡¯t have any of these stupid goddamn trees.¡±


    ¡°Back in my day, kids respected trees,¡± grumbled Krail. ¡°Have you ever heard of the tale of th¡ª¡±


    ¡°Less talking, more driving.¡± Lana, who had otherwise remained silent, drove her elbow into the side of the elf¡¯s stomach.


    ¡°First the trees, and now me? Nothing seems to get any respect around here, I swear.¡± Krail sighed, but despite complaining, he picked the reins back up and got the carriage moving.


    For a while, there was nothing to see but earth, and see it in all its detail they did. Though there were no torches to light the way, the spiralling, subterranean path was kept bright by the sun. Somehow, its rays curved around the sandy corners and guided the travellers through the polished stone, even though the door had shut itself behind them.


    A few minutes of twisting and turning later, the party arrived in a wide-open space. It was supposed to be a sort of cavern. That was clearly what its shape suggested. Massive stone pillars extended from the floor to the ceiling, made of sandy blocks extracted from the dirt around them. Spikes jutted from the ceilings and floors, naturally formed by the flow of water. And yet, while it had many of the distinctive features that one might have expected from such an underground space, it was difficult to accept as a cavern.


    For one, it was just as brightly lit as the hall they passed through. The sun¡¯s rays shone down upon it from directly above, seemingly ignoring the layer of earth between the city and the sky. The giant amber cube that housed the locals accounted for less than a fifth of the total area. The rest was filled with greenery¡ªthere was an entire forest growing within the cavern. There were streams; rivers and lakes stemming from different headwaters, and plenty of Kryddarian birthwoods in the areas around them. The trees, grasses, and shrubs were just as unbothered by the lack of a sky as the wolves, bears, and beavers that prowled the misplaced woodland. Not even the birds were affected. They chirped and fluttered, enjoying the world without a care for what lay beyond the walls.


    ¡°Is that the dungeon over there?¡± Chloe pointed at one of the cave¡¯s far corners. It was marked with a maw like a lion¡¯s, fire spewing from within.


    ¡°I mean, it¡¯s probably a dungeon of some sort, but I don''t think it''s the one we''re after,¡± said Krail.


    The maw was too popular to be Crimson Rock. There were a number of tents set up around the entrance, and one could see a steady stream of caravans heading between the entrance and the city.


    ¡°It''s probably that one.¡± Claire poked her face out from Sylvia''s tail and pointed a claw at a large sinkhole.


    Krail took a second to look between the map and scene. ¡°Probably, yeah. Should we head right over, or do you think we should stop in town first?¡±


    ¡°I do believe it will be necessary to stop in town,¡± said Arciel. ¡°There is much for us to prepare.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going ahead,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Wait, what do you mean, going ahead?¡± asked Chloe.


    ¡°I meant what I said.¡± Escaping from the fox¡¯s tail, Claire shot into the sky and gave her body a stretch. The wind ruffled her hair, just strongly enough for her to enjoy the sensation.


    ¡°Claire! Come back!¡±


    ¡°There is no purpose in restricting her,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Allowing her to venture off by her lonesome is likely to prove far more efficient than diving as a group. Our delayed entry shall provide the fauna with a chance to respawn, so that we might fight larger groups than would be available in her presence.¡±


    ¡°Claire probably doesn¡¯t really wanna stop for rest or anything either,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°She doesn¡¯t actually need to sleep and I think she just kinda does it ¡®cause that¡¯s what everyone else does. Anyway! I gotta go or she¡¯s gonna get too far ahead. I¡¯ll leave a couple of echoes behind and catch up with you guys when you join us in the dungeon!¡±


    ¡°How shall we spot these echoes of yours?¡±


    ¡°They should be really obvious! Oh, and they¡¯ll come find you if you¡¯re nearby!¡±


    Kicking off the top of the carriage, Sylvia launched herself through the air and after her pet. Claire accelerated when she noticed that the fox was gaining on her; she dove out of the sky and ducked down into the forest, weaving past the branches, just out of her best friend¡¯s reach. Still, Sylvia was faster. Using the power of her bardic inspiration, she tripled her speed and nearly caught the tiny snake-moose, but a portal opened in front of her right before she could win the implicit game of tag and warped her back atop the carriage.


    Sylvia nearly lost her footing, but with a bit of a scramble, she picked herself back up and opened a portal of her own. The game of fox and moose lasted for ten-odd minutes. They did two full loops around the subterranean space and freaked out most of the local adventurers before Sylvia finally managed to wrap her paws around the lyrkress¡¯ tail.


    ¡°Gotcha!¡±


    ¡°Too late. Game¡¯s over.¡± Claire had come to a stop directly in front of the sinkhole. It didn¡¯t seem all too special at a glance, but her ears were nowhere near as readily deceived as her eyes. She could hear the crackling fire and brimstone, the groaning and roaring of its monstrous inhabitants, and even the waves from the floors below.


    The only thing louder was the beating of her heart.


    ¡°Ready?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Mhm,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Whenever you are.¡±


    ¡°Then let¡¯s go.¡±


    Returning to her humanoid form and wincing as the accompanying pain returned, Claire dove through the entrance and sought the world beyond it.


    Log Entry 854743


    You have entered the dungeon known as Crimson Rock. Many of the monsters within its depths outclass you.

 Chapter 388 - The Frozen Flame

    Chapter 388 - The Frozen Flame


    At first, all Claire found was sand. Flux¡¯s voice rang through her mind and she could feel the vectors around her distorting as she was warped away. And yet, the scenery remained unchanged. There was nothing but fine granules, bits and pieces of ground rock spread all throughout her surroundings. She could feel the sand pushing her along, sucking her deeper and deeper into what she could only assume to be a bottomless hole. Still, she remained unmoving. She was in no danger of suffocation, and if anything, the accompanying pressure was comfortable. It was like a massage, pressing into her tissues with just enough force to abate her exhaustion.


    It wasn¡¯t until about a minute later that something finally changed. The ground began to rumble. The shaking grew louder and stronger as a burst of energy came from down below. Suddenly enveloping her body, it pushed her through the sand and into the air. Like water from a geyser, she was launched, ten, twenty, thirty meters before the fountain lost its vigour.


    Her newfound position provided a wide view of her surroundings. She floated above a lake made entirely of sand. Every few seconds, a pillar would erupt from within and blast the material up into the sky. Some of it was carried away by the wind so that it could pollute the lake¡¯s shore with all of its grainy glory. But the rest fell back down to the pool from whence it came. The spawning area went on for a few hundred meters, with one of its far ends labeled as an exit and the other pointing to the dungeon¡¯s depths.


    She could have remained high up in the sky, but Claire landed on the lake¡¯s surface and started to walk across it. She didn¡¯t have to wait long for Sylvia to join her in erupting from one of the geysers. Giggling as she flew, the fox went up and down, landing almost perfectly atop Claire¡¯s head in spite of the lyrkress¡¯ outstretched hands.


    ¡°That was kinda fun,¡± she said, as she shook the sand out of her fur.


    ¡°A little,¡± said Claire.


    Finally tearing her eyes away from the sandy pit, Claire shifted her hands back to her sides and looked over their surroundings again.


    They stood at the base of a smoking mountain. There looked to be a village off in the distance, but like the rest of the background, it was unreachable. A barrier suddenly appeared and denoted the edge of the world whenever she considered exploring beyond it.


    The very same lattice existed on both sides of the path. The strict route led straight towards a set of double doors carved into the side of the mountain. Though made of materials likely to be found therein, they remained completely out of place. For one, they were far too fancy. The trimmings, knobs, and motifs were all made of solid gold. There were so many decorations that one could have easily pulled ten pounds of material from them alone. It wasn''t the sort of expensive object that one would simply leave in the path of an eruption.


    Granted, the same could be said for its guardians. Both were covered in the same glimmering plating. Their armour shone of brilliant riches even though they were simple goblins¡ªor at least the ghosts thereof. Like the golden ornaments that covered their bodies, they were eerily translucent.


    ¡°Halt.¡± One of the two goblins called out as she approached. His voice was gurgly, perhaps more reminiscent of a rubber duck than a dungeon¡¯s gatekeeper.


    Though more confused than anything, Claire followed the duck¡¯s instructions and slowed her steps to a stop. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°You must make a decision before you enter our Master¡¯s domain.¡± The goblin stepped forward. ¡°Choose. Which door shall we open? Left or right?¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°Why does it matter?¡±


    ¡°Your answer will decide your fate.¡±


    ¡°Do they lead to different places?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°Then why does it matter?¡±


    ¡°The answer is rather simple, really. My brother and I,¡± the goblin looked to his partner, ¡°are simply deciding which of us will open the door for you and which of us will stab you in the back.¡±


    A sigh escaped the lyrkress¡¯ lips as she deployed a set of vectors and ripped both ethereal goblins in half. Walking right up to the doors they guarded, she grabbed one of the handles and gave it a tug. But it refused to budge.


    ¡°The gate will not open unless you answer the question. Which door would you like us to open?¡±


    Turning around, she found both goblins completely undamaged. Even their armour, which she had clearly ripped in half, was returned to pristine perfection.


    Claire narrowed her eyes before attacking them again. Another set of vectors tore them apart, but their bodies reformed almost as quickly as they were destroyed. The cycle repeated another four times, ending only as Claire spun around and punched the door.


    There was a feral, bestial howl as her fist met the metal. Needless to say, it wasn¡¯t hers, nor even theirs. Nay, the scream had come from the double door itself.


    Completely bent out of shape, the decorated lump of metal sprouted a pair of feet, broke free of the doorframe, and started scrambling away. It was surprisingly quick, especially considering its shape, but it was unable to outrun the vectors that seized its body and crumpled it into a ball far too small for a creature of its original size.


    Log Entry 854744


    You have slain a Level 956 Phantasm Door Mimic.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 2 points of strength


    - 4 points of wisdom


    After taking a moment to glance between the corpse and the missing gatekeepers, Claire lifted the newly-formed fidget toy in her hands and played with it as she walked away. The volcano¡¯s interior space was far smaller than she had gathered from its outward appearance. The hallway was only a little bit bigger than the door, with nothing to note but the grates that covered the path. Fire roared beneath them, often rising from the mountain¡¯s core and scorching the pathway above it. There was no clear pattern to the rising flames; to safely traverse the hallway would typically require a set of fire-retardant equipment.


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    Claire, however, had no such need. She proceeded straight through the flames unhindered. Her clothes¡ªwhich she had reformed right after turning humanoid¡ªwere the only things at risk of catching fire, but even they remained untouched. The icy aura that enveloped her body kept them from spontaneously combusting.


    One of the grates tried to bite her foot while a piece of the wall grew a pair of arms and threw them around her shoulders, but neither mimic caused any harm. A quick stomp put the first back in its place, while a compressed metal ball completely obliterated the latter. A third aggressor¡ªthe stone tile beneath her feet¡ªsuddenly opened like a trapdoor and left a pitfall in its place, but unbeholden to the rules of gravity, Claire ripped the mild annoyance out of the ground and shattered it with a smack of the tail.


    Similar encounters continued to play out as she continued down the hall. Over a hundred dead mimics lay strewn throughout the corridor by the time she finally reached the exit. There, she found another golden door with another pair of goblins, which she promptly met with a sprinting dive kick.


    The room beyond the gate was wide and open. It was a circular ring with a diameter in excess of a kilometre. Its floor was made of a metal mesh, much thinner and more tightly woven than the grates that had decorated the hall. The spacing between each piece was entirely haphazard. There were places where it was consistent, but so too were there spots without any rhyme or reason. Though there was no lava in sight, the fire that burned beneath her feet was hot enough for the whole room to shimmer, and the ash emerged in thick tufts, polluting the air with its sulfuric scent.


    Looking up, she found a tiny distant hole that revealed the sky beyond. They had entered the volcano¡¯s central chamber. There weren''t any obvious doors in the wide open space, but neither was she given much time to look. One of the many pterodactyl-like monsters circling overhead dove at her the moment she stepped through the door. For a moment, Claire considered ripping it apart with her vectors, but flexing her claws, she met it head-on instead.


    She drove a fist towards its sharpened beak, but the pterodactyl twisted its body out of the way. With a twirl, it drifted through the air and drove its face towards her spine. It was surprisingly fast for a primitive bird. When Claire spun around and raked at it with her claws, it abandoned its attack and darted away again.


    Only as it eyed her from a distance did she get a better look at it. The shape of its body was fairly simple, with two large wings, two trunk-like legs, and a loosely avian frame, its shape barely deviated from that of its winged origin. Had more of its body been on fire, it likely would have resembled a certain goddess from afar, but its flames were reserved for its face and its tail. The fire emitted from both ends almost seemed out of place with the way the rest of its body was covered in a layer of liquid, though it was precisely from its watery bubble that the creature¡¯s wings were made. Without the visible membrane that ran between its fingers and its hips, it would have just been a freak with eerily long arms.


    Remaining cautious for only a second, the pterodactyl opened its mouth and ejected a wave of fire. It was a valiant effort, but the attack only went to waste. Claire walked right through the flames. It panicked and tried to flee, but she wrapped her fingers around its neck and squeezed its windpipe shut. She was half expecting an immediate log entry, but the monster slipped away as soon as she crushed its skull. It flapped its wings in an attempt to escape, falling silently only as she landed on its back and crushed it beneath her feet.


    Log Entry 854873


    You have slain a Level 854 Scaldino Skyborn.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 5 points of agility


    - 12 points of strength


    Two more pterodactyls charged her as soon as the first one fell, but summoning Boris into her hands, she caught each with a strike to the chest. One perished immediately, but the other was far more resilient. It took four hits to finally break its backbone and bring an end to its futile struggling.


    She expected the others to descend from the sky and join in the attack, but though they squawked overhead, the remaining pterodactyls refrained from engaging her in combat. At least until she took away their right to choose.


    Deploying her own wings, she rose into the vertical space and started swinging her lizard at every unfortunate monster whose path she happened to cross. They dropped like flies, falling one after another onto the metal grill. It didn¡¯t take long for the scent of roasted meat to fill the volcano. Even unseasoned, it was far from revolting, but neither did it drive her urge to eat.


    Evidently, the same was not true of the flames themselves. They rose from within the space beneath the arena and licked the pterodactyls with their charcoal breath. All pieces they touched were immediately consumed, turned to bits of ashen dust. If not for the laughter that accompanied the meal¡¯s disintegration, she likely would have dismissed the flames as a part of the dungeon¡¯s garbage collection mechanism, but the booming cackle was impossible to ignore. It rang throughout the whole volcano, shaking its base and rattling the many nests built right into its sides. It was like it was asking for more.


    The sound came with a change in the pterodactyls¡¯ behaviour. Though they had continued to circle, even as Claire weaved through their ranks, they immediately abandoned their formations and made for the hole at the top of the mountain.


    At first, Claire pumped her wings and followed suit. She leisurely moved along and kept pace with the flock, even as the opening began to shut.


    A quick glance beneath her revealed that the fire was rising. An ardent pillar climbed through the tunnel, filling every last gap in the stone as it worked its way towards the summit.


    Its presence spurred the pterodactyls to flap with desperation, but Claire lacked the fear that drove them to action. Pumping her wings, she swiveled around in midair and dove at the fire instead. The flames weren¡¯t any hotter than those that erupted from the vents in the hall.


    Ignoring them outright, she dove back down to the mesh and through one of its openings. She hadn¡¯t realised it at first, but the hostile, searing blast had made it loud and clear. There was a monster beneath the ground floor, and from the pterodactyls¡¯ reactions, fighting it would prove a better use of her time.


    The shaft through which the flames had erupted was a long, hollow tube. Bits of rock jutted out from the sides, along with spiders and webs made almost entirely of fire. One of the arachnids lunged when she passed it by, baring its fangs and working its engine. A jet of flame erupted from its posterior and accelerated its charge as soon as it left its web. The spider was a confident hunter. Its body was incorporeal, and its flaming webs were maddeningly adhesive, but Claire tore it to bits with her vectors without a second glance.


    Log Entry 854911


    You have slain a level 837 Infernal Hellspider.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 1 point of agility


    - 4 points of wisdom


    None of the other spiders fared any better. They were entirely dismissable; she only kept track of their death count because the goddess¡¯ voice refused to leave her alone.


    The bottom of the firewell was a simple open space with a floor that doubled as a set of massive, metal doors. A single monster stood within its depths, gazing up at the approaching lyrkress with its hollow, undead eyes. It had a frog-like head atop a humanoid skeleton, and not a single piece of flesh to its name. She would have assumed it a cross between a lich and a grug had it anything that resembled a core, but all that dwelled within its bones were flames of ardent red.


    They flooded from within its frame, gushing out to create an outline that vaguely resembled a set of muscles.


    Unlike the mimics, pterodactyls, or spiders, it refrained from attacking immediately. It waited for Claire to land in the arena before slowly walking into position and placing a hand on the greatsword strung to its back.


    It carried itself with a seemingly noble demeanour. A scoff upon its lips, it drew its weapon with one hand and pointed the blade towards her.


    Finally, a challenge¡ªa foe that her instincts warned her against.

 Chapter 389 - The Frozen Flame II

    Chapter 389 - The Frozen Flame II


    Claire was the first to move. Tightening her grip on Boris¡¯ tail, she kicked off the ground and flew across the ring. There was a flash of silver. Her hair, her scales, her weapon¡¯s frame. They blurred together into a single projectile that closed the gap in the blink of an eye. She was so fast that she shook the volcano. A roar echoed through its halls, running up the side of the tunnel before filling the shuttered, skyward dome.


    And yet, the skeleton parried.


    It caught the headlong rush with a sweep of the blade, a perfect deflection that threw her weapon aside while it shifted into a second strike. The follow up was performed with equal precision. Its fiery muscles were not just for show. They performed all the right motions, guiding the undead¡¯s bones to deliver a textbook attack that was nearly impossible to avoid.


    Claire was capable of none of its textbook precision, but she twisted out of its path by magically reversing her momentum. Another slash followed without delay; it was a horizontal swing meant to catch her mid-recovery, but continuing to ignore the laws of physics, she shifted her arm in the opposite direction without a moment¡¯s notice.


    There was a metal ring as Boris¡¯ spines stopped the undead¡¯s blade. Again, she was able to deny the initial attack. And again, it trumped her in a contest of strength. Claire was thrown a full ten meters back and made to defend as it closed the distance.


    She moved her body just enough to evade both the overhead smash and the quick front kick that followed, but she failed to anticipate the accompanying punch. The bony fist crashed into her ribs, and with a twist of the wrist, sent her flying again.


    The skeleton gave chase again, but it was more of a confident walk than a hasty rush. It plodded towards her destination, its steps as practiced and graceful as its swordplay. In life¡ªthough it probably never had one, given that it was a dungeon monster¡ªit was likely some sort of knight, perhaps even a member of some elite force or other.


    It didn¡¯t seem the slightest bit surprised when Claire suddenly stopped in midair. It simply raised its weapon and stared, even though she was upside-down and sideways.


    She charged it again from the seemingly awkward position, but the knight was just as ready as it looked. It smacked her hand away when she reached for its wrist and denied her thrust by parrying her with the hilt of its blade.


    For a moment, it looked like the knight had finally shown an opening¡ªit didn¡¯t push her weapon far enough away to prevent another attack, and its own weapon was still displaced¡ªbut it denied her the opportunity and continued its offensive with a quick shoulder bash.


    Claire tried to lift Boris to intercept the bare-boned strike, only to find the lizard-shaped mace stuck in its previous position.


    The skeletal knight had hooked her weapon in place with its greatsword¡¯s guard.


    A fist flew towards her face as soon as her eyes drifted, but she danced just out of his range and smacked its wrist with her tail. It was hardly the most telling blow, but she was satisfied enough. The clear disparity in their technical skill made it a decent accomplishment, and the rapid exchange had more than warmed up her body.


    Claire seized the skeleton with her vectors and lobbed it into the air. Chasing after it, she gave Boris a twist and caught the undead with its stance completely broken. She magically grabbed its weapon as well when it prepared to parry her attack and dragged Boris across its open chest.


    The lizard was clearly in position to bite into the monster¡¯s ribcage. She transformed his face into a blade and extended his length to bolster the weight of her strike. And yet, the knight emerged unscathed. A hand crafted of ash and smoke extended from the skeleton¡¯s chest and caught Boris before he could land on target. She shrunk the lizard down, narrowing his width to that of a needle, but even then, she was unable to break him free. The incorporeal hand maintained a perfect grip on his body regardless.


    The skeleton¡¯s brute strength far outclassed her own; she struggled to move its ashen fingers even with her vectors at full force. Its weapon closed in. She had no choice but to release the lizard to roll past the incoming slash. And yet, he was back in her hands by the time she twisted her dodge into a spinning blow. The skeleton couldn¡¯t have possibly foreseen the ridiculous attack, but again, it was outright denied.


    Guiding her movements with another set of vectors, and briefly locking the skeleton in place with the very same ability, Claire smashed a foot into the greatsword¡¯s guard and drove an axe towards her opponent¡¯s giant, froggy face. By all means, it should have landed on target, but a sudden pain shot through the side of her body as she was displaced again. It wasn¡¯t the ashborn fist that had caught her. She had accounted for its motion and twisted out of the way. Nay, it was the very sword that she had stomped out of the skeleton¡¯s hands just a moment prior.


    She nearly clicked her tongue as she stopped herself short of cratering the wall. The skeleton¡¯s stance revealed the reason for her failure. It was gripping its weapon by the blade. And in her prior position was its bloody hilt.


    Part of her stomach had been gouged away, even though she had only been struck by the bluntest part of the weapon.


    Gnawing on her lips, she approached the skeleton again and slammed Boris down towards its head. The overhead smash was nearly met with a parry, but she suddenly changed her weapon¡¯s trajectory and transformed the smash into a sideways slash.


    Her foe shifted his blade in time with her movements and nearly caught the second attack as well, but a new set of erratic movements threw it completely off base. Boris danced through the air, twisting, turning, shrinking, and growing before suddenly assuming the part of a bladed whip. He dodged the ashen hand with ease and struck the skeleton in the back of the neck.


    His shape changed again as soon as the attack landed on target. Suddenly losing his length and becoming a shortsword at his point of origin, he evaded the skeleton¡¯s hilt and found the bottom of its chin.


    Both hits only left chips in the bone. But damage was damage. And as evident from the way its empty sockets suddenly began to glow, any amount was enough to annoy it.


    It drove a foot into the ground with enough force to leave a crater. Using said leg as a fulcrum, the knight spun his body around and delivered a quick, heavy blow¡ªa blow that Claire evaded in advance by escaping the range of its sword.


    It was that exchange that confirmed her suspicions. The longer she fought it, the more obvious it became. The skeleton was fighting with a traditional, orthodox style. And though she couldn¡¯t read its body language¡ªit had no eyes to follow, and the flames that served as its muscles were difficult to interpret¡ªshe simply didn¡¯t need to. Attempting to read it was a mistake. It was simply a machine that turned the most obvious inputs into the most obvious outputs.


    A sigh escaped her lips as she threw up her guard. She made it in time even though it had tripled its speed, and she angled Boris just perfectly enough to ward off the strike in spite of its similarly tripled strength. The sparks that accompanied the encounter nearly masked the punch that followed, but she avoided even that. Reading its moves was simple as soon as she dismissed its capacity for thought. The feeling of seeing her predictions play out was like a runner¡¯s high, and it was only bolstered as she slid beneath the greatsword¡¯s hilt.


    She closed her eyes to evade the next two attacks. Neither the monster¡¯s sweeping blade nor its flying knee were able to touch her. She even twirled past its ashen fist before opening her eyes and smashing her halberd into its face.


    The ash erupted from the skeleton¡¯s orifices and guarded it again, but Claire was long ready for the inevitable nonsense. She pushed the seemingly incorporeal mass away with a vector and exposed the monster¡¯s bare bone.


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    Boris tore through its face. His blade split the front half of its skull right down the middle. She stepped forward to finish the knight off as it staggered backwards, but a second magical hand sprouted from its ribcage and shot towards her throat. It refused to budge when she tried to magically displace it; she barely managed to block it by matching the skeleton¡¯s pace and summoning a second Boris.


    Unlike its first phantom limb, its second was made more so of fire than burning ash. And yet, it was entirely corporeal, just like the artificial muscles that enveloped the skeleton¡¯s body.


    The punch itself was its heaviest so far. She could feel Boris¡¯ body groaning beneath the colossal weight, but the iguana held true. She was more concerned for herself; her bones creaked like an old door hinge and the accompanying reverberations echoed straight into the back of her head.


    Still, she managed to ward it off without sliding too far. She raised both halberds immediately, expecting the skeleton to close the distance, but when she raised her eyes, she found it standing in place.


    It had taken up a regal stance with the tip of its blade buried in the ground and both its hands resting on top of its bloody hilt. Its back was straight, and though it didn¡¯t have lungs, its chest was heaving like it was out of breath. Though it almost looked the part, it wasn¡¯t simply awaiting her challenge. It had simply left its magical arms to do the heavy lifting.


    The fiery arm had, at some point, acquired an equally fiery book, while the ashen arm was quickly flipping through it with an orb in hand.


    A grimoire and a catalyst. Equipment specialised for spellcraft.


    From the amount of mana gathering in the space between them, she could tell that its magical abilities were just as great, or perhaps even greater, than its efficacy in close quarters.


    The magical energy formed a massive fireball. It was a brilliant, white-hot flame that melted everything in the caster¡¯s vicinity. The fire whooshed past her and melted a hole in the side of the mountain. Her resistance was absurd, but it wasn¡¯t like she was entirely immune. The skeleton¡¯s magical fire was so hot that it toasted her scales, even though it had barely touched her.


    The skeleton immediately prepared another similar attack, but transforming Boris into a whipsword, she sawed right through it and sapped enough mana that it completely fell apart.


    Claire flew through the gap and, planting both her feet into the ground, swung a second, hammer-shaped Boris with a twist of the hips and landed a strike square on the skeleton¡¯s ribs.


    But there was no satisfying crunch.


    All she found instead was the world in shades of grey. She couldn¡¯t move. Her body refused to budge as she watched the skeleton slowly step back from the point of impact.


    It wasn¡¯t until the frog-knight took up a stance that she finally started to move. But even then, she had no control. It proceeded without her input and forced her to raise her weapon precisely as she had when the battle first began.


    A number appeared in the space between them as she finished preparing for combat¡ªa distinct, legible three.


    And then a two.


    And a one.


    Only after a loud bang did everything regain its function. Both fighters kicked off the ground as soon as the timer vanished, but right away, Claire found that something was wrong. The vectors that she had manifested to propel herself knightward had completely failed to serve their purpose. In fact, despite her systemic privileges, they didn¡¯t manifest at all.


    The phenomenon repeated no matter how many attempts she made. Her ice magic was, likewise, inert, and a quick glance at the skeleton revealed that it seemed to abide by all the same rules. Both of its fists were missing and the fiery glow that accompanied its body was gone.


    Even without any magical muscle fibres to support it, it closed the distance in a heartbeat. Half delayed by the confusion, Claire barely managed to throw up her guard in time. But all she managed was to delay the inevitable. The combination of the skeleton¡¯s perfect swordplay and overwhelming brute strength knocked her weapon out of its path and presented it with an easy follow up. Fully beholden to gravity for the first time in what felt like ages, she had no way of avoiding the attack.


    Her one choice was to catch it with an open talon.


    There was a tearing sound as a wave of heat ran up the length of her forearm. An icy blue object erupted from the back of her elbow. Though unbroken, the bottom bone had been completely knocked out of place.


    But then, it suddenly returned. She suddenly found herself back where she was, before everything had turned black and white. The damage to her body was undone, and the skeleton¡¯s position had reverted.


    It looked like Boris would slam into the knight¡¯s chest and break it wide open. But then, there was a sound, a piercing ring almost like that of metal on metal. And even though she struck the monster dead on, there wasn¡¯t the slightest hint of damage.


    The skeleton threw one of its magical fists towards the lyrkress¡¯ skull in the confusion, but she avoided it with a twist and delivered another heavy blow.


    And again, right as her hammer was about to touch the skeleton¡¯s chin, she found the world returned to its monochrome state.


    The numbers started counting down again¡ªthe skeleton¡¯s strange skill had reactivated. From the extent of its functionality¡ªthe ability to outright suppress all non-physical phenomena¡ªshe could only assume that it was an ars magna. Or perhaps even an ultimate of some sort or other.


    Whatever the case, the results were unchanged. Again, both fighters charged as soon as their mobility returned. The skeleton was the first to strike. It raised its weapon over its shoulder and delivered a heavy, downwards chop.


    Parrying the blade, Claire countered with a horizontal slash that the skeleton ducked under, followed by a quick stab aimed straight towards its face. The master swordsman could have easily parried the blow, but it performed a suboptimal evasion instead and threw a quick jab at her gut. There was no power behind the hit. Its complete lack of form guaranteed nothing more than a light graze, but all the world¡¯s colour suddenly returned again regardless.


    There was another loud ring. She was certain that her hammer should have bashed the skeleton¡¯s chin wide open, but it remained perfectly unharmed again, at least until the Boris in her other hand met the frog knight¡¯s pelvis.


    She still didn¡¯t know how it worked, but for the third time in three seconds, she was placed within the skeleton¡¯s domain.


    But having half expected it, she was ready. Three, two, one, and she rushed the enemy down. She dodged the first blow with a careful sidestep, and then parried its foot before it could drive the limb into her shin.


    Its next attack, a thrust with the hilt of its blade, was evaded with a quick hop, and the accompanying punch was denied by way of careful backstep.


    It didn¡¯t matter if she was stuck in its ultimate or not. She had fully internalized its kit. And no longer caught off guard by the sudden weight of her body, she refused to fall for its textbook tricks.


    Still, its refined, orthodox style made it difficult to pin down.


    She slipped past a pair of swings, brushed past an incoming fist, and even ducked under a headbutt before the knight finally made an obvious mistake. It picked up the pace and launched a salvo of quick blows¡ªa salvo clearly accompanied by a loss of brute force.


    Taking the strikes with her elbow, Claire smashed Boris into his arm and completely shattered the bones that held it in place.


    The skeleton took the opportunity to throw a knee at her gut, but she leapt on top of it and used it as a platform to drive her foot through the bottom of its jaw. Fueled by all the strength her upper body could produce, Boris crashed into its head right after and crumbled its skull to bits.


    Her enemy faltered. For a few brief moments, it tried to stand its ground, but its sword slipped from its grasp and its legs gave out beneath it.


    And then, the monochrome world was gone.


    Back in reality, her war hammer cleaved through the skeleton¡¯s chest and turned its spine to dust.


    Log Entry 854918


    You have slain a level 1178 Skeletal Ashen Primordial.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 381 points of agility


    - 519 points of dexterity


    - 9 points of spirit


    - 48 points of strength


    - 4 points of vitality


    - 13 points of wisdom


    Log Entry 854919


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been partially restored.


    Your racial class, Caldriess, has reached level 600.


    Your titular class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has reached level 26.


    You have acquired 3776 ability points.


    Claire stretched her shoulders and looked down at the floor, expecting the massive door to open, but there was no such shift.


    Still, the boss room was hardly devoid of events. Though one skeleton collapsed, two soon took its place.

 Chapter 390 - The Frozen Flame III

    Chapter 390 - The Frozen Flame III


    Krail grunted as he carefully placed a bundle of clothes in the wagon¡¯s hold. The individual skinsuits were so thin that he didn¡¯t dare to treat them roughly. Of course, they were not truly so frail. They had bought the enchanted bodysuits precisely because they would serve them well in the dungeon. Even without any enchantments, the rubbery fabric was incredibly resilient. With the local seamstress¡¯ work woven into the fibres, they became fully functional, fire-retardant wetsuits.


    ¡°Alright, should be the last of the gear,¡± he said, as he climbed back into the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°We need anything else, or are we good to go?¡±


    ¡°It probably wouldn¡¯t hurt to pack a few extra snacks,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°Man, how many fucking times have I said it already?¡± Jules breathed a sigh. ¡°We aren¡¯t gonna need any snacks when most of the monsters are edible. You¡¯ve already bought way too fucking many, and the general store literally just fucking closed.¡±


    It was still early in the morning. The sky was not yet blue, the chickens were barely stirring, and even the sun was yawning. The party was only out and about because the tailor had threatened to close up shop if they took any longer. Most of the other local establishments had gone ahead and done just that. The few still open only served drinks, bodies, and other illicit products.


    ¡°But snacks¡­¡± said Lana.


    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± said Chloe. ¡°Think about the snacks!¡±


    ¡°How about you shut the hell up and focus?" Half closing his shell, Jules leaned against the side of the carriage. ¡°This isn¡¯t gonna be the type of dungeon where you can just dick around and start snacking.¡±


    ¡°Relax, Jules. It isn¡¯t going to be that bad,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°Yeah, tell me that after your dumb ass has taken half a second to look over the notes.¡±


    ¡°I do think he has a point there, Chloe,¡± said Krail. ¡°You can¡¯t keep putting it off.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know,¡± said the maid, her eyes averted.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s not fun. One of my old party¡¯s warriors had the same habit.¡± Krail stroked his chin as he lightly whipped the reins ¡°He was a pretty good guy for a human. Reliable in a fight, real friendly too.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I know what you¡¯re about to say, but I¡¯ll bite,¡± said Chloe. ¡°What happened to him?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± said Krail. ¡°Retired as soon as he hit thirty because he ¡®needed to fuck bitches and get crunk.¡¯ His words, not mine.¡±


    Chloe raised a brow. ¡°Was there supposed to be a moral to the story?¡±


    ¡°Well, not exactly, but if you want, I can tell you about all the unnecessary gruesome injuries he suffered. Karma always loved that man. Might¡¯ve even had something to do with his obsession with ¡®bitches.¡¯¡±


    ¡°I-I think I¡¯m fine for now,¡± said the maid, with a forced smile. ¡°That sounds like the kind of thing that¡¯d make me feel a little squeamish.¡±


    ¡°Perfect,¡± said Krail. ¡°How about we start with the time his balls fell into a meat grinder?¡±


    ¡°I said I¡¯m fine!¡±


    ¡°God damn, man.¡± Jules had his face twisted into a grimace and his hands held over his non-existent lower half. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be hitting her, not me.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t even have balls, do you?¡± asked Chloe. She followed his hands with her eyes, only to be denied when he shuttered his shell.


    ¡°Now I¡¯m just gonna say, that¡¯s none of your fucking business.¡± The voice from within was muffled, barely intelligible from the extent of the distortion. ¡°But yes, I do. Fucking dumbass. How else do you think we breed?¡±


    ¡°Spray it into the water like a normal clam?¡±


    ¡°Motherfucker, what the hell do you think we use to make ¡®it?¡¯ Huh?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good point.¡±


    ¡°Snacks¡­¡± said Lana.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s exactly what I¡¯d repeat, given the context,¡± said Krail.


    The banter continued as the carriage slowly rolled its way through the brilliant amber city. Its luminosity was only bolstered by the rising sun. Everything seemed to glimmer beneath the amber light, even the only member of the party who had refrained from participating in the conversation.


    Sitting atop the carriage, Arciel gazed with her knees hugged to her disproportionate chest. The city was technically enclosed, but her giant witch hat fluttered in the wind regardless, its floppy sides flapping in much the same way as her black autumn dress. She had spent the past few days in a much better mood, but it wasn¡¯t like she had eliminated her depression or anxiety overnight.


    She occasionally needed to step away from the group to take a bit of a breather. And while she typically waited for a period of rest, she decided on that particular day to borrow the coach¡¯s roof. Lana had coincidentally chosen to enter the ship a few minutes prior, and with Claire and Sylvia having split off, it became the perfect place for her to be by herself.


    Tightening her grip on her knees, she buried her face in her arms and slowly closed her eyes. She wasn¡¯t sure what to do, not about her mood, nor even about the circumstance at hand. The truth of the matter was that she had wanted to take after Claire and challenge the dungeon by her lonesome. She needed the experience to grow stronger, and it didn¡¯t seem efficient to split it five ways. But on that same note, she was far too afraid. She had never once dreamt of attempting such tomfoolery. Matthias had always been there for her, watching her back, keeping her safe. But Matthias had died protecting her. He was gone, and with him went the backbone on which she had always relied.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    If she went without the group, death was likely all that awaited.


    Of course, she was not so naive as to ignore the fact that rapid growth was impossible without repeatedly running the risk of failure. She had initially thought that she could pull it off if it came down to the wire, but hearing about the dungeon and its layout had completely shattered her hopes.


    Its overall construction and theme were not all that abnormal. By textbook terms, it fell under the type seven umbrella¡ªit consisted of a series of floors, each of which was unlocked by the defeat of an explicit boss monster.


    Type seven dungeons were by far the most common among those piped into the planet¡¯s ley lines. The unsurprisingly named type eights presented less of a challenge to explore, but they were considered a greater threat overall. Rather than splitting their mana into a series of bosses, they focused them into a single individual.


    It was the exact opposite approach taken by type nines. They spread their resources evenly and invested first and foremost in the average monster¡¯s performance. There were no natural bosses, but that was precisely why those that eventually emerged were presumed to be top-level threats. They acquired the status after an intense struggle for survival, and unlike the monsters born in an ascended state, they earned theirs in much the same way as their challengers.


    And that therein was the problem with Crimson Rock. Though technically a type seven, the bosses fought like transplants from a type nine.


    If that were all, she might have been able to convince herself to go, but running solo meant remaining on guard for the duration of the exploration. Some of Griselda¡¯s rituals had certainly entailed staying up throughout the moon¡¯s journey, but forgoing a single night¡¯s rest could hardly measure up to a full-on raid. She would need to overcome her body¡¯s limitations before she could even attempt a one-man expedition.


    Apparently, it was possible with training. Matthias had spoken of the technique on a number of prior occasions, and he had even subtly tried to nudge her towards its acquisition, but she had always refused him. There had simply been too many things to do, and she had always assumed that she could ask him to teach her at a later time.


    After all, even though he was her guard, even though he had always sworn that he would give her his life, she had never expected to lose him.


    Ciel buried her face in her thighs and rocked back and forth as she dug her fangs into her lips. She knew it was pointless and destructive, that the scent of her blood likely filled Chloe with worry, and that nothing could be done to bring him back, after she failed to act in the moment. Still, she continued to flood her mouth with the taste of iron. Something about it made her feel better. She couldn¡¯t tell if it was the pleasant flavour, or if the pain was what dragged her mind from its depths. But whatever the case, she soon perked up and gathered her wits about her.


    They were coming up on the city¡¯s outermost edge, and even if they failed to recognize her identity, in spite of the crown jewel that decorated her hat, Arciel couldn¡¯t have possibly allowed another nation¡¯s soldiers to see her in anything but perfect condition.


    Though a Kryddarian caravan setting out at the same hour likely would have drawn plenty of suspicion, the guards relaxed after taking one look in the carriage and finding it devoid of locals.


    A brief inspection later, and they were back on the road. From that point on, the trip was much quieter. They spent the thirty-odd minutes of transport in silence, each of the fighters entertaining their own thoughts.


    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± said the elf. ¡°Let¡¯s take fifteen so everyone can get changed. If you have any final preparations, now¡¯s the time.¡±


    No one said much of anything, but the men filed out of the carriage with their wetsuits in hand while Arciel climbed back inside and shut its blinds behind her.


    She turned around just in time to catch the fraction of a second it took Chloe to complete her preparations. It took exactly one blink for the maid to go from stretching the fabric out in front of her to wearing it beneath her uniform. Even then, it was barely visible, hidden beneath her uniform, her boots, and her gloves. It was only around her neck that the enchanted armour was visible.


    ¡°Do you want a fresh change of clothes?¡± asked Chloe. ¡°I brought something that¡¯s easier to move in just in case.¡±


    ¡°I would prefer it,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Alright. Then we¡¯ll go with something a little lighter and more casual.¡± Chloe forced a bit of a smile as she took her mistress¡¯ hand and dragged her away from the door. Perhaps already used to the whole song and dance, Lana was changing in one of the carriage¡¯s far corners, completely out of the way of the queen and her maid.


    She was slow and meticulous in the operation. She lifted the queen¡¯s existing outfit off of her body and carefully stripped even the top half of her underwear. She wasn¡¯t even trying to hide her stare. Her eyes were focused on Arciel¡¯s chest, while her hands did all the work without any sort of supervision. Still, she got the job done much quicker than usual and placed Arciel in the rubbery fabric before throwing a light outfit on top. The bottom was a pair of long pants meant to obscure the armoured material, while the top featured a collared shirt that was thin, breathable, and perfect for the start of fall. It was a little bit translucent and possibly inappropriate in any other circumstance, but the protective layer beneath it kept everything important hidden from view.


    If anything, the white on black only served to accent the lines of her body, and Arciel was not quite the biggest fan¡ªshe was still self-conscious of her recent weight gain¡ªbut her maid seemed perfectly content. She took a moment to hum and haw before suddenly shaking her head and masking the perverted grin with a more serious expression.


    ¡°Ciel.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here if you ever feel like you need to vent.¡±


    Arciel twitched. She knew it was obvious, but she hadn¡¯t realised that it was so bad her maid would feel the need to speak up while someone else was watching.


    ¡°Thank you, Chloe, but I shall refrain. I do not believe myself in need of any such aid.¡±


    Though reluctant, the maid eventually gave a nod and backed away as she returned her mistress¡¯ hat to its rightful position. ¡°Alright.¡±


    It looked like she wanted to say more, but she pursed her lips and lowered her head.


    ¡°You need not worry.¡± Arciel forced a smile. ¡°It shall not be long before I recover.¡±


    She suddenly felt her waist squeezed as she said the words. Looking down, she found Lana with her arms wrapped around it. It was only for a brief moment. She let go almost immediately, lightly bobbed her head, and exited the caravan without a single word. Chloe followed with a hug of her own, which Arciel allowed with a bit of a laugh.


    ¡°That is enough, Chloe,¡± she said, after the maid spent ten seconds attached. ¡°The others are waiting.¡±


    ¡°Just a little longer,¡± said the half-succubus. ¡°The boys aren¡¯t done changing yet anyway.¡±


    ¡°I am not so certain, after you spent five minutes arranging my clothes.¡±


    Lightly pushing the perverted maid away, she brushed her raven black hair out of her eyes and stepped through the coach¡¯s closed blinds.


    There was still much to do.


    She might not have had the freedom, strength, or racial advantages demonstrated by the snake-moose who had gone on ahead, but she wasn¡¯t about to sit around and remain discouraged. She still had the life that Matthias had saved. And no matter her mood, she was resolved to put it to good use.


    He had died for the queen of Vel¡¯khan.


    So in his honour, by his will, she would play the part to perfection.

 Chapter 391 - The Frozen Flame IV

    Chapter 391 - The Frozen Flame IV


    Lucius bit his lips and clenched his fists as he looked over the Cadrian border from atop his sacred beast. Together, the bee-ogre and the tiger stood upon a wooded hill, their eyes remaining cautious as they examined the path that connected the motherland to Kryddar. It had been quite some time since he last returned; to his surprise and chagrin, he found himself shaking at the prospect of crossing the border.


    ¡°Awrrroo?¡± asked the fanged mount beneath him.


    ¡°No. It¡¯s nothing,¡± he said, quietly. ¡°I was just trying to think of a way around the patrols.¡±


    Even setting the whole giant tiger problem aside, Lucius felt like it was practically impossible. As a former operative himself, he knew that high command was not to be taken lightly. One did not simply walk into Cadria without being detected by some group or other.


    For the average merchant or traveler, it was hardly anything worth noting, a simple fact of life that left them better off than not. After all, the active patrols and spymasters would sniff out any local ne''er-do-wells and task the appropriate groups with their elimination. The system worked well, except for when it didn¡¯t. The few that managed to weather the storm came out more powerful than most local soldiers. Still, as long as they didn¡¯t stir up too much trouble, the higher levels of government generally left them to their own devices.


    In the eyes of a foreigner, such was surely an act of tomfoolery, guaranteed to endanger the locals. But while there was certainly the odd voice of protest, much of the populace was happy to accept the outcome. After all, the government launched at least one assault on every group that emerged. If the outlaws managed to survive, then it could only mean that they had earned enough strength to be worth respecting.


    Even in cases where grudges remained, it was typically the locals themselves who did away with the outlaws. Driven by their thirst for vengeance, the children would grow big and strong, powerful enough to claim the heads of those who had wronged their parents. Or perhaps, the criminals themselves would reform and join the military¡¯s ranks after doing away with whoever or whatever had driven their illicit activities in the first place. Both stories were common amongst those who held the military¡¯s highest ranks. Strife drew strength. Such was Cadria, the land where even petty outlaws could reach the eight-fifty wall.


    It was precisely because duels were so famously respected that farmhands became generals and orphans became kings. But so too was it the reason so many foreigners considered them barbarians. That much, Lucius had learned on his journey.


    In other lands, the people were warmer but weaker. It wasn¡¯t necessarily that they had less potential, but that society never encouraged or expected them to grow strong. There were entire nations weaker than villages out in the Cadrian boonies. And yet, they got by just fine, without any of the violent fervour inspired by the goddess of war.


    She left nothing but death in her wake. Perhaps, he thought, her influence was unnecessary, even for those who lived in the dangerous northern lands. The western alliance and Kryddar served as two remarkable, undeniable examples of Vellaless success. But to think such thoughts was blasphemy of the highest order, and it was one of the main reasons he dreaded the thought of detection.


    It was not just because his mind was clear of Vella¡¯s fog. His former life as an intelligence officer was just as inconvenient. To resurface after such a long absence would only raise questions among those who held his reins. They would suspect him to be a fake, a deserter, or perhaps an enemy agent¡ªall choices that led straight to dead ends.


    Even under the guise of his new identity, even as the hunt god¡¯s champion, they would no doubt attempt a capture.


    He was confident that, with the divine beast¡¯s help, he could fight off any lesser foes that came his way. They had grown strong enough to defeat even an aspect in battle. Just like any pair of Cadrian outlaws, they could drive away anyone who dared to approach. But with only the two of them, it would be difficult to rest and recover.


    They needed more allies. And it was fortunate then that Lucius knew exactly where to get them.


    His god had already guided him toward the southwestern colosseum.


    The champion who reigned as its master had been undefeated for a decade. From the first moment she had become its ruler, she had offered her hand to whomever it was that managed to defeat her. Lucius had no particular interest in the cervitaur¡¯s body, but she was precisely the sort of fighter he needed on his side.


    All he had to do was find a way to sneak past the border.


    ___


    Claire brushed her bloodied bangs with a half-broken arm as the door finally opened beneath her. The two skeletons that comprised the second wave lay unresponsive at her feet. Though her battle with the first spanned no more than a minute, the second and third ate up a full hour.


    It wasn¡¯t like they were any more skilled. But rather, the combination of their technical prowess and their perfect teamwork made it almost impossible to secure their heads. It didn¡¯t help that both enemies entered the strange, monochrome world together and that they both had to be slain at once for either to be slain at all. Their elimination may as well have served as a test of patience, and one that she was ready to fail.


    Still, despite her frustration, the halfbreed came out on top. And her reward? A look into the bottom of the sea.


    That was what awaited beyond the giant door¡ªa biome completely unlike that of its fiery predecessor. There was no real precedent. Its one justification was the maker¡¯s identity; it was only because he was the god of the darkest depths, because he reigned as the master of the abyss, that Ira had partially submerged his dungeon.


    Still, though he had clearly violated the volcanic concept with which he began his design, it was not as if the god was without restraint. Looking down into the pool, she found not a blackened void, but a colourful, shallow sea. It was far brighter than the area around Vel¡¯khan, packed to the brim with iridescent fish of all different shapes and sizes. Some glowed with such intensity that they could easily be mistaken for lanterns even without any darkness to highlight their presence.


    Sylvia was so excited by the sight that she started to squeal from within her silenced bubble. The noise cancellation was perfect; her rambling went entirely unheard, but Claire understood her regardless. Gesturing for the fox to go on ahead, she followed her straight into the water.


    The salty solution stung her open wounds, but she pressed ahead regardless. Sylvia was sure to eat everything worth killing lest someone reigned in her frenzy.


    Ira¡¯s watery world was far more peculiar than the one-corridor volcano that sat in the space above it. Just like a Kryddarian city, it was filled with light; every bit of water was as well illuminated as a shallow lagoon. And yet, its depth was obscene.


    There was no end in sight. The bright waters extended in every direction. It was almost foreboding; she couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of unease, like there was something wrong.


    It took a few moments for Claire to finally discern the source of her malaise. Though there were bits of land scattered all over, though the sun shone from up above, there was no sky or floor.


    The whole world was nothing but ocean, ocean, and ocean as far as the eye could see. There was plenty of land to break up the sights, but they were without any continents to anchor them in place. Like ships, they drifted, moving with the invisible waves through the endless waters. It was a bit of a mystery as to how they kept their sand. The beaches lost exactly none of their material as they shuffled along. Even kicked up by the nonresident fox, the sediment settled right back where it belonged.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Each rock was a centre of life. It was not just fish that governed the domains, but corals, crabs, squids, and seaweeds. The variety was far greater than what one would typically expect from a dungeon. Most of the creatures were still of a monstrous nature. That much was clear from the way that they resisted the fox¡¯s capture. Many of the fish shot through the water and tried to bite her, while the shrimp and crabs launched magical attacks from their pincers.


    Their attacks were surprisingly high output. At the very least, she felt like they had to be evaded, even though the fox didn''t bother. Sylvia let her bubble absorb all of the blows as she plodded on and ate all of her unfortunate assailants.


    Claire stretched her wings and prepared to join the fray when her pet suddenly cast an uncharacteristic spell and deleted both of the nearest floating rocks with a bright, arcane blast. It was followed soon after with another magical attack - a humming tune that suddenly caused everything she could see to instantly drop dead.


    ¡°Did something happen?¡± asked Claire, as she floated over.


    ¡°Mmmmnnn, not really?¡± said the fox. ¡°I just kinda decided that I was full, so I got rid of the rest.¡±


    ¡°You didn''t need to kill all of them.¡±


    ¡°I know, but I figured we were probably due for a bit of a break.¡± Sylvia paddled her way over to a rock and put on her elven shell. She shifted some of the freshly bleached coral aside with her newly formed hand and positioned her back against a large shell. Her bubble expanded to fill the space, providing a perfect safe haven in which the pair could relax.


    Looking up at her pet lyrkress, she patted the open spot by her side and flashed a bit of a smile. It wasn¡¯t as loud, bright, or silly as her usual expression. It was far more muted, perhaps even shy or reserved.


    ¡°Did you eat something weird?¡± Claire asked the question as she entered the bubble and took up the seat right next to the fox girl.


    ¡°H-huh? Uhmmm¡­ no, why?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re acting weird.¡±


    ¡°N-no I¡¯m not!¡± The words came out with a bit of a squeal. But no matter how obvious it was, the fox refused to abandon her act. She sat up as straight as she could and mechanically moved her tail from left to right whilst forcing a straight expression.


    ¡°Out with it.¡±


    ¡°I-It¡¯s nothing, I swear!¡±


    Claire continued to stare as sweat dripped down the foxgirl¡¯s brow. She couldn¡¯t have been more obvious. She dodged the lyrkress¡¯ eyes so she wouldn¡¯t be easily seen through and held her breath for as long as she could. It wasn¡¯t like she wasn¡¯t self aware. She knew precisely how ridiculous she looked, but she insisted on feigning ignorance, even as Claire shuttered her nose with a pinch.


    She tried to push the lyrkress away, but raising her arms, she only found the other girl¡¯s fingers buried in her sides. The tickles that followed completely shattered any attempt at silence; a furious fit of laughter broke through the dam as she was sent straight to high heaven.


    ¡°Stop it already!¡± she said between giggles. ¡°I¡¯ll talk! I¡¯ll tell you everything!¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± said Claire, as she continued to tickle the fox.


    ¡°Wah! What the heck!¡± A giggle. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to stop!¡± Another giggle. ¡°I said I¡¯d talk!¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Then why aren¡¯t you stopping!?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t feel like it.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t breathe!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Claaaaire!¡±


    Despite her protests, the assault lasted for another five minutes. Only then was Claire satisfied enough to retract her arms and return to a seated position.


    ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°Do I really have to say it?¡±


    ¡°Do you want me to tickle you again?¡±


    ¡°I mean, kind of,¡± said the fox, quietly.


    ¡°Then I won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°What the heck!? You¡¯re so unreasonable!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m perfectly reasonable.¡±


    ¡°Only by Cadrian standards!¡±


    ¡°Good enough.¡±


    Sylvia sighed. ¡°I swear, there¡¯s no winning with you.¡±


    ¡°Of course not. Now stop stalling and say it.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay! Fine!¡± Sylvia fiddled with her tail and lowered her gaze, a blush creeping its way across her face all the while. ¡°S-so uhmm, you remember how we fought Pollux Two and stuff, right?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°Right so, you weren¡¯t actually awake yet, and I was kinda worried about Ciel and I wasn¡¯t sure what to do, so I kinda ended up using my ultimate¡­¡± Her voice trailed off.


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°O-oh, come on! You¡¯re just being mean now!¡± The fox puffed up her cheeks. ¡°I know you know what I want to say!¡±


    ¡°Just say it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡± Her face got redder and redder with every word. ¡°S-so I kinda need more charges. W-which uhmmm, means we kinda need to kiss again.¡± Her eyes darted constantly between her tail and the lyrkress. She was trying not to make a show of it, but she carefully watched her expression, noting every single one of its ever-unchanging details.


    ¡°Are they really necessary?¡± asked Claire, with a tilt of the head.


    ¡°N-no! I-I mean yes!¡±


    ¡°Make up your mind.¡±


    ¡°I-I don¡¯t think I¡¯d need any normally, but this dungeon seems kinda dangerous, so I-I need at least one just in case something goes wrong. And uhmmm, it¡¯d actually be kinda nice if I could have a few more stocked, j-just in case. T-technically I need like seventy seven to sing the whole song, and it¡¯d probably be better to have more than that, but I know that¡¯s way too many so I¡¯m only gonna ask for a few.¡±


    She was completely out of breath by the end of the sentence and a little teary-eyed as well. Claire paused for a few seconds to stare at the frantic fox before breathing a sigh and raising a hand to the fox girl¡¯s lips.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ what¡¯s this for?¡±


    ¡°For you to kiss.¡±


    The matter-of-face response only earned a tilt of the head.


    ¡°Alfred said you had to kiss me. He didn¡¯t say where.¡±


    ¡°O-oh. Y-yeah, good point,¡± said Sylvia. Forcing a bit of a laugh, she took the talon between her fingers and hesitantly raised it to her face. Like the rest of Claire¡¯s body, the claw was water repellant, so it wasn¡¯t wet, but neither was it entirely devoid of moisture. There were still a few stray droplets scattered all over. ¡°T-that¡¯s a good point. I can¡¯t believe I never noticed.¡±


    Slowly, hesitantly, she swallowed and pressed her lips against the back of the caldiress¡¯ hand. She stayed like that for a few seconds before pulling away with her face as bright as a tomato.


    ¡°Did it work?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°H-huh? O-oh uhmmm¡­¡± Sylvia paused for a second. ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± said Claire, with a grumble. ¡°I knew he¡¯d think of that.¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°A-Al¡¯s kind of a total degenerate, b-but he¡¯s still pretty smart.¡±


    Her heart beat like a drum. The only thing she processed was its ever-growing speed and volume as the other girl¡¯s face drew closer. And just like the last time, she found herself stunned as the ridiculously soft touch fried her brain. She wasn¡¯t really sure if the reaction was conscious, but she found her own lips responding in kind, moving to return the display of affection. She lost track of how many times it happened. The accompanying details left her brain as soon as they entered it. Nothing made sense. She felt like she would soon pass out.


    It didn¡¯t help that she was running out of air. Claire seemed to realise as well, because she pulled away for just a second, granting the fox the briefest window of lucidity before ripping it out from under her again.


    ¡°C-Claire, I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say it.¡±


    Another stifling, gentle touch.


    ¡°The less you say, the less that has to change.¡± Her spine shivered as a set of sharp teeth pinched her bottom lip. ¡°We can still go back to normal. We can pretend that none of this ever happened, that I never noticed. But only if you continue to play the fool.¡±


    Sylvia wasn¡¯t sure what she meant. She didn¡¯t even know what she had tried to say. She tried to piece it back together. But again, her mind was blanked by a blinding assault.


    In the face of the overwhelming sensation, all she could do was nod.

 Chapter 392 - The Frozen Flame V

    Chapter 392 - The Frozen Flame V


    Boris¡¯ eyes glimmered in the sparkling sunlight as he watched the fishes swim by. Perfectly reflecting the solar rays, he was a veritable beacon of light in the already bright sea. And yet, he was easily outdone.


    It was not by Starrgort, who sat on his head, that he found himself defeated. The spider was certainly a tough contender, but the materials that made up his body were inferior to the ikarett¡¯s own. Nay, the only competitors to which he lost were the fishes that filled the ocean. Compared to the veritable mirrors that swam by, he was but another random rock in a valley of diamonds.


    Despite his lack of relative reflectivity, he blended in well enough that none of the local wildlife paid him any attention. As usual, he was left to his own devices, treated more like a wayward weapon than a meaningful part of the local food web. It was hardly a problem. If anything, it was exactly what he wanted. To be ignored was to be given the opportunity to nap until his mistress ordered him awake. And yet, even with all of his napping skills combined, he found that, unlike the unconscious, water-disabled Starrgort, he was unable to sleep.


    Though normal for those who failed to rise with the sun, insomnia was no part of the lizard¡¯s routine. The strange lack of sleep that plagued him should have served as a cause for panic, and in any other scenario, he likely would have worried himself to the point of furthering his condition. But on that particular afternoon, he knew precisely what it was that prevented his mind from fading away.


    It was his mistress. He couldn¡¯t tell exactly what she was thinking, but the fiery ardour and bitter malice that typically leaked through their psychic link had been replaced by a steady stream of forced neutrality. She was actively steadying her mind, preventing even the slightest bit of feeling from worming its way past her filter. Somehow, she managed it perfectly, even as she proceeded with the strange pre-mating ritual that so many humanoids performed.


    He was very curious about the particulars¡ªhe had seen such a ritual once up close when he lived in Farenlight¡¯s lair, but his data was incomplete. His observation targets had unfortunately fallen victim to a different ikarett in the midst of their wayward tryst. He witnessed a few hundred similar acts through his many copies, but again, he could never get close enough to determine exactly what they did and why. People always shut the curtains when they found him on their windowsills. Evidently, his mistress was of the same mind. She spun him around every time he tried to look.


    It didn¡¯t make any sense. She wasn¡¯t even really denying him. After all, by closing his eyes, he could see directly through hers and feel all the sensations she experienced. And doing just that, he found a perfect, first-person perspective and acquired a set of observations that only furthered his confusion.


    Half of it stemmed from the precise nature of their biology. He didn¡¯t understand why his mistress still needed to mate with three full ascensions tucked under her belt. Parthenogenesis was clearly the most optimal solution; it only made sense to follow in his footsteps and acquire an adaptation that allowed for spontaneous reproduction. Alas, it couldn¡¯t be helped. He understood. Not all creatures were quite as intelligent as he. But even with his mighty mind, he found himself incapable of deciphering the purpose of the actions at hand. After all, his mistress was not actually mating. She was only engaged in practice¡ªpractice that seemed entirely devoid of purpose.


    The payoff was hardly a worthwhile effort. At least from what he could tell, neither his mistress nor her friend possessed the necessary organs to make the practice worthwhile. They seemed to know that as well, as they only rehearsed the most basic of steps without so much as bothering to produce their genitals.


    The only similar cases he knew, he had learned from Meltys¡¯ clan of birds. Some of them, he noticed, would practice their dances with other males to better appeal to the females when the season came around. Certainly, he reasoned, his mistress was engaged in a similar activity, but it was precisely that which furthered his confusion.


    Though he hadn¡¯t mated since leaving Farenlight¡¯s den, it wasn¡¯t like he was without experience. He understood the mechanisms, and he was confident that he could provide advice, even if he was incapable of interpreting the precise results. After all, humanoid rituals were far more confusing and illogical; he didn¡¯t understand why they were only pretending to feed each other when there was enough food available to better the conditions of their practice.


    Even ignoring that particular oddity, he saw many flaws in their precise execution. The most obvious was that they were clearly too aggressive. They were both actively pressing their lips together when males preferred females who sat still and basked in the sun. It was meant to be the males¡¯ job to perform appeals and the females¡¯ job to judge them.


    If his mistress would have simply stopped turning him around, he could have easily demonstrated a female¡¯s proper behaviour. It was simple, really. All one had to do was nap with one¡¯s eyes open whilst slightly turned in the direction of the male performance.


    Truly, it was all too confusing, but there was nothing to be done. The lack of understanding remained with him until his mistress finally rose from her seated position.


    ¡°There,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s exactly two hundred.¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah.¡± Sylvia slowly nodded. Her eyes were completely devoid of intelligence. One could only speculate if she even remembered who or where she was.


    ¡°We shouldn¡¯t have to do that again for at least a year.¡±


    ¡°R-right.¡± Another vague reply accompanied by another empty blink.


    ¡°I¡¯m going back to exploring.¡± Claire grabbed Boris by the tail and hoisted him over her shoulders.


    ¡°M-mmk.¡±


    Leaving the fox in her protective bubble, the ikarett¡¯s mistress flew high up into the ocean and looked down into the infinite abyss. The strange, overly controlled mood had yet to leave her, but he could tell, as he continued to monitor their link, that one specific feeling shone through. And if he wasn¡¯t mistaken, its name was none other than frustration.


    He almost wasn¡¯t surprised. He would have felt the exact same way had he been subjected to her fruitless practice.


    Frustration, however, was easily resolved, and his mistress was well aware. Spreading her wings, she dove straight into a school of fish and swung him straight through the crowd. He readily accepted her commands. Extending his spines, he became a rake and skewered a dozen fish at once.


    A trident, a saw, his original form. He changed with every swing, twisting and morphing at his mistress¡¯ beck and call.


    She didn¡¯t always use him in the fishes¡¯ elimination. Some of them were ripped apart by vectors and others with her claws. It depended almost entirely on what was most convenient. She wasn¡¯t toying with her prey the way she was on the first floor. Everything that happened to enter her line of sight was promptly put out of its misery.


    The rampage met no resistance until she came across a particularly strange island. While most of the others were made of rock, the one in front of her bore a chitin base. It didn¡¯t seem all too obvious from her position above it; Claire didn¡¯t even realise that it was a crab until it suddenly looked up towards her, right after she eliminated the fish swimming in its coral reef.


    A stream of bubbles escaped its maxillipeds. Clacking its pincers aggressively, it started to swim towards her with its legs fluttering beneath it. She unleashed a series of vectors, but they failed to rip it apart. All she managed was to steal its eyes. Everything else remained in place, courtesy of its shell¡¯s resistance to magic.


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    Its resilience was hardly limited to the arcane arts; its shell remained unscratched, even as it rammed its way through the two islands between them.


    Claire didn¡¯t pause for a moment. Seemingly unbothered by the giant crab, she swam between its claws and drove Boris through its underbelly. The wound was hardly fatal, but she left the weapon inside of the crab and stole its health as she evaded its strikes. Before long, its lifeless corpse lost its strength and sank into the depths, a trail of blue liquid flooding the sea in its wake.


    Claire didn¡¯t bother retrieving her weapon. Assuming her true form, she dove straight through the waves and gunned for a large school of fish. With her transformation came a surprising comfort. Like its much tinier counterpart, the largely serpentine shape was without most of the pain that accompanied its humanoid opposite. She felt like she was at ease, free, or at least free of everything but the fresh mental burden.


    Spreading her wings wide and tucking her legs close to her body, she slithered through the aquatic environment, moving again from island to island. She wasn¡¯t quite as genocidal as during her first rampage, but she still killed everything that came in range of her jaws and talons.


    The second crab she met was dispatched more easily than the first. She ripped off one of its arms and twisted her body into the socket. Its insides were torn apart and turned to mush before it was cast into the depths.


    Like the skeleton knights, like the leviathan that lived back in Vel¡¯khan, the monster was over a thousand. But it posed not a hint of a threat.


    Perhaps, the lyrkress reasoned, it was an intentional choice. It wasn¡¯t like they were bosses, only random obstacles meant to fill the seemingly endless space.


    She stopped briefly in the wake of its death. She wasn¡¯t sure where to go, and the fishes didn¡¯t provide enough experience for it to be worth remaining. The aquatic death zone was practically the opposite of the linear hall that the previous floor had provided. There wasn¡¯t a single hint as to her final destination, nor even any patch of ocean that looked much different from any other. It was nothing but underwater islands as far as the eye could see.


    In the end, it was the maker¡¯s identity that finally provided a clue. As the god of the darkest depths, he would no doubt reward those who ventured deeper into his realm.


    The deeper she went, the more powerful the monsters grew. The giant crabs became lobsters, shrimp, and turtles, while the fish went through a set of inexplicable mutations. Some sprouted wings, legs, and antennae, fashioning themselves like butterflies and moths. Others were made into regular shapes; there were a surprising number who took on the traits of cones. And yet another group traded their body parts for others. Heads became fins and fins became heads. Roughly a tenth of the population went all the way with the bizarre commitment, becoming balls of heads and tails with nothing in between. Somehow, they swam just as easily as their aesthetically functional counterparts, perusing the unchanging reefs in whatever depths they dwelt.


    She half expected the world to twist when she passed the final island. And yet, she found nothing. Zero mysterious doors appeared in the distance no matter how far she swam. It wasn¡¯t like the dungeon suddenly cut off. Every slither carried her further and further away. The distance was measurable and present, so present in fact that she chose to portal herself back up after giving up on going deeper.


    A tired sigh escaped her lips. There was no clear way forward.


    She almost regretted ignoring everything that the clerk had told Arciel. But at the same time, ignoring her inability to pay attention to lectures, it was precisely the challenge of exploring and decrypting the dungeon that led her to make the decision in the first place.


    Had the circumstances been any different, she surely would have found plenty of joy in the process. But as they stood, her mood was far too sour.


    It wasn¡¯t Sylvia¡¯s fault. That wasn¡¯t to say that the fox had played no role in her annoyance, but she didn¡¯t feel like it was fair to lay the blame upon her.


    Clenching her claws, the giant snake-moose resumed her slithering. She wandered aimlessly, her forked tongue occasionally dancing through the water. Around and around the biome she went, until the sun finally lost its brilliant glow.


    The islands shifted with its setting. The rocks swirled about, twisting like they would in a whirlpool as they slowly came together. One by one, they moved into position and formed a massive, sandy platform.


    A door appeared in its centre right as the waters all went dark.


    No longer was the sea an infinite space. There were walls all around her. Or at least that was what she thought before her alcine ability informed her that they would prove difficult to kill.


    It wasn¡¯t until the cavern unravelled that she was able to determine its identity. Like her, it was a massive reptilian predator, only the descriptor happened to differ in its order of magnitude. While she was ten meters long, it was ten kilometers thick. The walls of its flesh extended so far that they were almost impossible to behold in their entirety without opening another three sets of eyes.


    To label it as serpentine was to offend those of lamian blood. Its scales lacked all of the elegance and beauty that came with Sthenian ancestry. They were filthy, untrimmed, and covered in layers of moss, like the beast had never once in its life considered the particulars of their maintenance. It didn¡¯t help that they were made of stone, specifically the same variety of yellow-brown rock that constituted the platforms¡¯ undersides.


    And yet, serpentine was almost the only way to describe it, so long as one was able to see enough of it to consider the nature of its base. At its core, it was a snake with four heads. It had no tail and no body, only four long necks whose midpoint formed the roof of the dome that had appeared overhead.


    Its four heads hung from it the centerpiece like chandeliers, only the scale was so great that it needed to curl up its body and fill the gaps in order to look at her from each of the cardinal directions. That was why it was so dark. The only light in the enclosure was the glow of its eyes. The bright red orbs drew lines in the darkness, barely illuminating the area around each of its faces.


    Claire half expected the abomination to charge her, but it never attacked. It simply hovered around the newly formed, underwater continent, its giant slit eyes focused on her all the while.


    The stalemate lasted for all of three seconds before the lyrkress made for the place where the serpents¡¯ necks met. Its response was a little more delayed. It didn¡¯t even start to move until she nearly closed the gap between them. Finally turning on at least one of its brains, it tried to box her in and constrict her with its massive body, effectively hugging her with all four of its faces.


    But because it was so big, there remained a number of inevitable gaps. Claire quickly assumed her tiniest form, slipped between two of its scales, and lay flush against its body.


    Just by touching it, she started to suck its health.


    The beast didn¡¯t appear to notice at first, but it soon panicked and dove at her with all of its heads. She tried pushing them with her vectors, but they were simply too heavy. The forces did nothing but mitigate its speed.


    It tore its fangs into the base of its own neck and removed her from its flesh, but in doing so, it accomplished little beyond exposing another weakness.


    Slipping past its teeth, Claire dug her claws into the roof of its mouth and began the process anew. She burrowed into its skull when it tried to fry her with its arcane magic, and migrated to another head when it tried to cut its losses. It was an elephant and she was an ant. There was nothing that it could do to stop her from boring through its insides and slowly whittling it down.


    Log Entry 855875


    You have slain a level 1572 Primal Snakesphere Lord


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 201 points of agility


    - 14 points of strength


    - 3190 points of wisdom


    Log Entry 855876


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been partially restored.


    Your racial class, Caldriess, has reached level 605.


    Your titular class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has reached level 28.


    You have gained 2888 ability points.


    It almost didn¡¯t feel any stronger than the skeletal knights. If anything, it was more disappointing. It shouldn¡¯t have lacked an ultimate skill, given its supposed level, but if it did use the ability, then it was far too weak to notice. The monster was so pathetic, in fact, that she was barely surprised when she returned to the door and found that it was still closed; the snakesphere was not the guardian.


    That title belonged to the small whale-like creature hovering in front of the gate. Unlike its barbaric counterpart, the floor¡¯s boss was dressed as would a gentleman. It had a tin hat on its head and a suit around its body. One hand held a disproportionately small buckler, while the other sported an equally tiny sword. It didn¡¯t seem any stronger than the ball of snakes, but Claire reasoned that, if her senses could deceive her, like in the snakesphere¡¯s evaluation, then the whale could have easily skewed in the opposite direction.


    She called Boris back¡ªhe had been napping in the corpse of the crab in which he was abandoned¡ªand prepared to face the guardian.


    But while Boris was ready, the floor boss was not.


    Abandoning its armaments, suit, and helmet in kind, it turned tail and fled before she could even approach.

 Chapter 393 - The Frozen Flame VI

    Chapter 393 - The Frozen Flame VI


    Claire made short work of the second floor¡¯s supposed boss. Like the skeletal knights that had come before it, it had a strange ability that functioned by way of negation. But rather than outright disabling her magic, it invalidated every other spell to affect it instead. It was certainly an infuriating ability, but its pitiful attempt at defence barely stalled its demise. Her vectors were practically costless. All she did was throw a few more into the mix to rip the boss¡¯ body to pieces.


    According to the system, it was a powerful foe. It was apparently over a thousand, and it awarded a full racial level¡¯s worth of experience. But Claire didn¡¯t feel like it was worth it. The monster had spent all its energy on fleeing. It hadn¡¯t even tried to fight back.


    And yet, the door was opened regardless. The empty space between the parts of its frame suddenly gave way to a vector-based portal. It wasn¡¯t the sort of spatial tear that Claire typically created, but rather, a more mysterious spell closer in function to Alfred¡¯s frozen door. None of the water in their surroundings was stolen away; it only activated when she touched the portal directly. Her whole body was sucked in all at once and she became a stream of data that was rapidly reconstructed on the other side.


    The dark ocean was replaced by an irritatingly familiar scene. It was a brightly lit corridor featuring fiery grates beneath her feet and a straight-line path that ended in a set of glimmering double doors. Unsurprisingly, the room was filled with mimics. She could feel their eyes upon her, watching carefully as would a pack of hungry wolves. It was the exact same setup that had accompanied the dungeon¡¯s first floor. If not for the sudden change in scale, she likely would have assumed that she had somehow lost her progress.


    The elephantine differentiator was about as clear as the room it stood in. The first floor had certainly been on the more spacious end¡ªthere had been enough room for her to fight without having to consider her surroundings¡ªbut the third took the concept to a whole new level. It wasn¡¯t just her own size that influenced her perception. Being in her tiniest form certainly contributed, but the feeling would have persisted even if she was in her largest.


    So wide was the hallway that its width was best measured in kilometers. The metal bars that made up the upscaled grates were large enough that one could perform a stage play upon a single column. They felt more like bridges, guardless, metal bridges built to serve as a major city¡¯s centre of transport.


    Taking a few lazy steps, she found that the mimics had emulated the environment¡¯s gigantification. The first one that sprang out of the ground and attacked her was a giant floorboard roughly fifty meters in each direction. Its teeth, which suddenly emerged from all four of its sides, were even more disproportionate, with each a third of its total length. They all closed in at once, transforming into a spiral that made for her tiny form whilst blocking her with the rest of its body to prevent an untimely escape.


    Had its flesh been made of another material, it might have served as a half-decent plan. But as a being of simple stone, it stood no chance of ensnaring her.


    She clawed her way through its stomach and emerged from the resulting hole. The assault was followed immediately by a magical bombardment. She crafted a series of vectors that pointed to the gap in its body and called to attention its structural flaws. Unable to resist the pulling forces, its core collapsed into a mess of rock and stone.


    Log Entry 855883


    You have slain a level 984 Phantasm Floor Mimic.


    Log Entry 855884


    You have slain a level 847 Goblin Overlord of Defiance.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 43 points of wisdom


    Log Entry 855885


    You have slain a level 766 Kryddarian Highlord Curseweaver.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 259 points of wisdom


    Only after the entries went through her head did the caldriess stop in her tracks. Blinking rapidly, she turned around and observed the results of her attack.


    But no matter where she looked, she found no goblins or Kryddarians. She quickly thought back on the past few hours, but she couldn¡¯t recall setting off any traps or otherwise doing something that might have induced harm in a passerby. The kills made no sense, at least not before she realised that the mimic¡¯s newfound core, the bits of rock she had turned into a gravitational anomaly, were glistening with a sickly red.


    Mimics were not organic. And yet, the liquid was present. It wasn¡¯t quite dripping, thanks to the vectors still in motion, but there was enough of it to be unmistakable.


    Blinking, she undid her magic and inspected the corpse again. Her nose caught very little at first, but a flick of the tongue revealed a terribly foul scent. Looking into its stomach, she found that it was stuffed with corpses. There were seven of them in all, with two freshly destroyed, one long rotted, and another four mostly intact.


    Somehow, an entire party had been eaten by a single individual, and a party that had overcome the previous two floors at that. She couldn¡¯t even begin to fathom the ridiculous circumstance required to manifest the scenario before her.


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    She assumed them all dead at first¡ªher ears weren¡¯t picking up any heartbeats¡ªbut it was only because of the mimic¡¯s magical stomach. Though ruptured by her vectors, the translucent, rubbery sack kept its contents dead silent until it was peeled away. Only then did she hear the heartbeats that accompanied the apparent corpses.


    Claire paused for a moment to stare. There were two clear options ahead. She could either harvest the unconscious fools for experience or continue with the rescue in which she had accidentally engaged.


    A quick glance at her log confirmed that they were worth less experience than the floor¡¯s mimics¡ªfrankly, it was a forgone conclusion given the state in which she found them¡ªbut at the same time, they had been offered up on a silver platter. It wasn¡¯t like she knew them; she was unconcerned with their continued existence, and it wasn¡¯t like there was anyone to bear witness.


    Still, she quickly decided to leave them as is. Arciel¡¯s party would likely pass by within the next few hours or days, and if the other adventurers were fortunate enough to survive, there was a chance that they could provide them with a few tidbits of information. The debt of gratitude was likely worth more, given that they were decently high level.


    Nodding to herself, Claire turned back around and continued on her way. There was no reason to get all hung up over the bags of meat, when in all likelihood, they would only be eaten again soon after their reawakening. Still, she wasn¡¯t keen on the awkward conversation sure to follow if they woke whilst in her presence. So tucking in her wings, she turned her eyes back on the door and launched herself like an arrow. Some of the mimics still made an attempt to strike her. The grates leapt up from the floors, the ceilings suddenly collapsed, and the walls grew mouths and arms. But try as they might, none proved capable of reaching her.


    Her wings weren¡¯t as fast in her tiniest form, but her vectors easily made up the difference. The precise measure of their effect was greatly amplified, boosted almost beyond the point of recognition. That wasn¡¯t to say that the magic itself had grown more powerful. The very same vectors simply provided more speed on account of the change in her size. The missing mass simply made it much easier to move her.


    Figuring out the rest came down to simple math¡ªnot that she could be bothered to run the numbers. She didn¡¯t even know exactly how much she weighed, just that she was a little bit lighter than Sylvia, who sat somewhere in the ten-pound range.


    Perhaps in the past, she might have been able to identify a weight based on how easily she lifted it, but the lifestyle she had acquired, since fleeing her old home, had left her without the function. Her strength stat was at fault. It threw her senses out of whack every single time it grew, and it didn¡¯t help that her main weapon¡¯s weight was in a constant state of flux.


    Boris would not only adjust it when he was in the mood, but also when he failed to pay attention. He had a rather rich history of accidentally destroying things in his sleep by way of suddenly gaining a few thousand pounds. Sylvia¡¯s presence meant that his destruction was readily undone, however, so few ever blamed him for the resulting inconvenience.


    From what Claire could tell, it was a matter of discipline. She was confident that he could learn to control the ability if he really tried, just as how he had eventually learned to control the precise number of Borises that existed in a given space at a given time.


    According to the ikarett himself, it was because the skill was always growing. When its level changed dramatically, following a battle like the one against Pollux, he would often make the mistake of forgetting his new upper bound and setting a percentage that was not quite fine.


    Perhaps, Claire too could have understood his pain had her circuits remained undamaged. But as things stood, she could only stare on and swing him with envy.


    Porcius would have made for a much easier kill had she only a higher rate of growth. And frankly, there was one well within reach. Accepting Vella¡¯s healing and blessing would have saved her all of the unnecessary pain and humiliation. Even without any extra levels, she likely could have killed him with a snap of the fingers. That was the feeling she got from trying Alfred''s serum, from experiencing what it should have been like to live a life unbound.


    Sometimes, she wondered if she had really made the right choice. Her instincts screamed that Vella was less friend than foe,and the goddess¡¯ desperate behaviour appeared to imply some sort of scheme or other. There was an argument for charging right through it. The best outcome would be to take advantage of her offer and subsequently overcome whatever it was she had in store. But Claire refused. She refused for the exact same reason she had refused to let the fox speak her mind.


    She was afraid.


    She was afraid of her own incompetence. The moment she slipped up would be the moment that everything fell apart. And such a mistake was effectively inevitable. She couldn¡¯t possibly account for everything. Not even the gods accounted for everything, nor did they necessarily demand it. Her father was the only one that did. And even he remained unable to grasp precisely the future he wanted.


    One day, she would fail. Just as she had time and time again.


    That was why she refused to raise the stakes. To pin herself against the wall and force herself to overcome Vella¡¯s machinations. To melt down her barriers and run the risk of loss. To chase a goal she would only be denied upon being returned to the castle. They were all too risky, options she didn¡¯t dare explore.


    Granted, in Vella¡¯s case, it wasn¡¯t just her cowardice that drove her decision. She had always found the goddess offputting and unpleasant, and the very act of even considering her blessing had given the lyrkress a headache. Either that, or the scene that lay beyond the door. As things stood, she was more inclined to put her bets on the latter.


    After all, the corridor had given way to exactly what she expected. It was a massive, vertical hall with a large metal grate beneath her and a narrow opening above. Massive pterodactyls filled the sky, their individual wings large enough to completely blot out the sun. They were second only to the space itself, which was frankly sized more like a city than a room in the middle of the dungeon.


    A sigh escaped Claire¡¯s lips as she dove between two metal bars and left gravity to work its magic. Again, almost everything was identical in every aspect but size. The only difference she found was that some of the spiders were further ascended; the larger horned variants hadn¡¯t been present on the first floor.


    Log Entry 856216


    You have slain a level 1010 Sevenflame Sinspinner.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 29 points of wisdom


    Looking further down, she found that even the bosses at the bottom of the pit seemed to differ in nothing but size and number.


    A groan escaped Claire¡¯s lips. She had no desire to challenge the giant frog knights that dwelled within the abyss. Two had proven annoying enough already. Seven just seemed like nothing but blatant harassment.


    Still, she summoned her lizard and prepared to engage.


    Even if she hated it, even if it annoyed her to no end, it was the only way forward.

 Chapter 394 - The Frozen Flame VII

    Chapter 394 - The Frozen Flame VII


    It didn¡¯t take long for Claire to arrive on the dungeon¡¯s fifth floor. Like the third, the fourth had been irritatingly predictable, another endless ocean with everything scaled up and all the monsters¡¯ levels bumped forward. The bump itself was significant¡ªmore of the fish were over a thousand than not. Still, the amount of experience they netted was effectively nonexistent.


    They were only worth as much as the tiny first kill bonuses they provided. Most of them went into wisdom at first, on account of the magical nature of their deaths, but she stopped squeezing them from afar as she recalled the stat¡¯s efficiency. There was more short term gain in raising her physical abilities, so she resorted to chasing them down as would an ocean predator. They were surprisingly quick to run, but not even their swiftest turns had been able keep up with the mobility provided by her vectors.


    The wildlife and magnitude aside, the only major difference between the second and fourth was that the latter came with its rocks already smushed together and its door already spawned. Overall, her progress was much quicker despite the difference in scale.


    Upon arriving on the fifth floor, she expected to see something that resembled either the first or the third, but thankfully, it was nothing of the sort.


    A bright, starry sky awaited on the other side of the door. And with it, a wall of rolling hills that extended as far as the horizon. They were covered with flowers¡ªbright, white blossoms spread wide beneath the moonlit sky. Though, it was only thanks to her ability to magnify her vision that she was able to see them in the vivid detail she did.


    Claire, Boris, and Starrgort, who had managed to tag along despite her best efforts to lose him, stood far beyond the field¡¯s widest reaches. They were so high up in the air that even the volcano beneath them was but a distant speck.


    It wasn¡¯t like they stood on an obvious platform. Though they were certainly present in their surroundings, there were no clouds directly beneath their feet, nor any other objects that one could easily observe. It looked like they were floating, even though Claire could feel a distinct something beneath her talons and hooves.


    The material was of a rigid construction. It was tough enough that it didn¡¯t crumble when she tapped her claws against it and Starrgort¡¯s feet clacked with every step he took. She tried looking for distortions, reflections, or bits of uncleanliness, as one might see through panels of glass, but there was nothing. The floor remained perfectly invisible even as she dug at it with her talons. It wasn¡¯t like she had failed to destroy the foothold. She could feel its flakes poking into her palms, but somehow, they simply remained unseen.


    It was a curious result, but Claire dismissed it with a shake of the head and looked towards her destination.


    Like the lyrkress and her companions, the door was floating in the middle of the sky. It was maybe a hundred meters away, and its vibrant glow served to demonstrate that it was already open. At first, she assumed it to be the fault of another person or party. Perhaps someone had come ahead of her and eliminated the boss before she could dig her fangs into its spine, but it didn¡¯t seem likely. There was no blood in the air, nor any of the magical residue a battle was sure to have left.


    The clouds, likewise, were too perfect and intact for her to think them damaged by some sort of conflict. It was probably the sort of floor upon which one could easily rest.


    Claire, however, had no need for such a facility. She flapped her wings and prepared to depart, only to find a particularly curious scenario. She couldn¡¯t lift off the ground. She tried again, throwing her vectors into the mix for good measure, but again, she was denied. Perhaps thanks to the experience derived from the previous four floors, she interpreted the effects almost immediately. The ability was being suppressed. Something, or perhaps someone, had stolen it from under her nose.


    It was a peculiar development, but she continued towards the door regardless, taking one small step at a time, with her ears twitching and a fresh set of eyes looking in every direction. Her guard was at its maximum, watching in case the flight negation was sourced from some sort of monster.


    That seemed to be the more reasonable explanation. Or at least it would have been had she felt any eyes upon her. But there were none. She couldn¡¯t see, hear, or feel anything else in the space. There was no bloodlust, no malicious intent, no hostile gazes to ever waft in her direction. All she felt was confusion until she took one too many steps and found a hole in the invisible floor.


    She barely touched it. Her claws sank maybe a third of a centimetre past the missing ground level before the world began to warp. All of a sudden, the night sky was gone. A creature with no night vision would have found nothing but a veil of darkness, but Claire clearly saw the starry canvas replaced by one of rock and stone. A rubbery sack suddenly formed around her, enclosing her within the space as a strange pink mist flooded through its interior.


    Log Entry 856630


    You have been poisoned. Your health regeneration has been halved for the next 17 minutes.


    Log Entry 856631


    You have been afflicted with extreme drowsiness, however your constitution has allowed you to fully resist its effects.


    Claire tilted her head before brandishing a claw and tearing open her surroundings. Emerging out from the other side, she found herself standing in an oversized corridor with a half-dead mimic flailing in pain behind her.


    She managed to stay calm, for the most part, but she could feel one of her eyes twitching as she took a second look at her surroundings and confirmed her position again.


    There was a group of unconscious adventurers right by the floor¡¯s entrance, and a series of dead mimics strewn all along the hall. The door at the opposite end of the hallway sported a small, caldriess-shaped hole in it, and with her telescopic eyes, she could narrowly make out the expansive, vertical space that lay directly behind it.


    A groan escaped her lips. There was no denying it. She had been warped back to the third floor and shoved straight inside of a mimic.


    Still, it was no big deal. Tucking in her body, she flapped her wings and cast her vectors. At her top speed, it wouldn¡¯t be long before she returned to her previous position.


    Or at least that was what she thought, before she found the bosses in their pit.


    Though none of the other monsters had respawned, the skeletons alone had risen from their graves and prepared to challenge her again.


    Then and there, she arrived at an indisputable conclusion.


    Ira¡¯s dungeon was nothing if not a pain in the ass.


    ___


    Sylvia sat stock still, her fingers against her lips and her cheeks a glowing red. Her brain had yet to fully reboot¡ªshe was still sitting stock still, unsure of what to think or do¡ªbut neither was she entirely offline. She had finally recovered enough to form meaningful thoughts, but they continued to go around in circles. No matter how long she pondered, no matter what she considered, she found herself incapable of drawing a decent conclusion.


    It didn¡¯t make a lick of sense for her to be so flustered. A kiss was nothing new or surprising. As one of Al¡¯s more complete creations, she had all of the relevant knowledge engraved straight into her soul from the moment of her conception. Simulating the sensation was as easy as accessing the universal records the celestial had crafted for her kind.


    And yet, the moment she was touched, her mind was lost to the winds.


    Her memory of the event was hazy at best. There were at least three holes with no data recorded and another five or six with a few missing values.


    Even just trying to recall them, she immediately began to tremble. Her face grew so hot that steam leaked from all four of her ears. She was assaulted by a dizzy spell, one that rocked her mind and lulled it into a moment of dysfunction.


    It was all Claire¡¯s fault. She could still taste her lips. She could still feel the forked tongue that had run against her teeth and the icy cold breath that had invaded her lungs. Data points that Al had neglected to prepare in advance.


    Again, she felt her face on fire. The very world seemed to blur as her eyes grew teary, as a strange, tightening sensation assaulted her chest and stole her ability to breathe.


    It wasn''t like she was entirely oblivious. Even she had realised, partway through the session, why her body had so desperately begged for more without her explicit instruction. There was something about the lyrkress¡¯ touch that simply drove her crazy. And it was all Al¡¯s fault.


    Though she wasn''t a catgirl, though she only ever meowed as a means of deception, the catgirl-based skill that Al had forced upon her unwilling pet affected her whenever they kissed. It didn¡¯t make any sense, but it was the only possible explanation. After all, Sylvia had already ruled out all of the other possibilities.


    For one, she had never thought of other girls in that way. That wasn¡¯t to say that she disliked them. Though fairly debaucherous and otherwise universal, Al¡¯s programming biased her further towards the sort of relationship that would allow for procreation; there was no point in fertility if no children were made.


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    Even setting her childhood brainwashing aside, she remained entirely confident in her evaluation. The little Al in her head would occasionally label a male as a potential mate, but no females had ever triggered the response. And though she considered it for a moment, it wasn¡¯t on account of their species. She had seen elves, foxes, and even catgirls engage in such acts with both sexes without finding their mental states infectious. Like the kisses stored in her great-grandfather¡¯s database, the scenes she witnessed passed through her mind as nothing but cursory knowledge. She simply didn¡¯t see them in that way.


    It wasn¡¯t like she loved Claire either, at least not romantically. She could say with confidence that she loved her as a pet and a friend, but that was the extent of her affection. The sensation that had accompanied the almost violent kisses had never once attacked her when they just held hands or cuddled. She didn¡¯t even feel flustered when she considered the possibility that she might have felt a lot more strongly than she thought. Thus, the conclusion was made. The loss of her mental functions was tied exclusively to the scenario that had just transpired. It had to be an outside influence at fault¡ªthe blame lay with Al and Al alone.


    Knowing him, it was probably a prank, a modification that he had installed for the sole purpose of laughing at her. Such pranks were in no way beyond him. He had always been the type to mess around and laugh at everyone else¡¯s expense.


    It soon crossed her mind that she ought to complain. Al was likely to leave the modification even though she had learned of its existence. He derived as much fun from her confused reaction as he did the dilemmas sure to follow, but there was still a chance that he was bored enough to put an end to a ruse. At the very least, it wouldn''t hurt to try.


    Nodding to herself, she ripped open a hole in the fabric of the world and slipped right into his realm. Another quick warp, and she was in his lab, sitting on the bench and watching as he carried out another one of his experiments.


    He did glance in her direction, but he refrained from offering a greeting post haste. The work at hand demanded all of his attention. He was modifying a genome in real time, tweaking all the cells that made up a creature at once, and twisting its body into the form that he most desired. He hadn¡¯t even put the thing¡ªit looked like a purple blob with far too many human legs¡ªin stasis. It was alive and conscious throughout the process, but its mobility was entirely suppressed. Al had disconnected its nervous system, so that he could continue his operation without any of its unnecessary squirming. Piece by piece, he picked it apart and tweaked its peculiars, until it suddenly came together in the form of a humanoid squid.


    It took a few seconds for Sylvia to realise that she was one of Ciel¡¯s relatives. It was difficult to tell because her skin was dark green, while Ciel¡¯s, in her natural form, was much closer to a faint purple. She wasn¡¯t entirely repaired. There were still a few scars scattered all over her body, but Al was satisfied enough to plop himself down in a chair and smirk.


    ¡°These abilities of mine are truly god-like, if I do say so myself.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I think that¡¯s ¡®cause you¡¯re literally a demigod,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°What gave it away? Was it the omnipotence?¡± Laughing to himself, the old, towering human sank further into his chair and breathed a tired huff.


    ¡°Oh, come on, Al. Even I know you¡¯re not entirely omnipotent.¡±


    ¡°Not entirely, no, but I daresay I¡¯m just about omnipotent enough to guess what you¡¯re about to say next.¡±


    ¡°You were literally just spying on us! That¡¯s not omnipotence! It¡¯s voyeurism!¡±


    ¡°That is, in fact, precisely the definition of omnipotence, Child.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s wrong,¡± said the fox, quietly. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s not important! We need to talk!¡±


    ¡°About your love life?¡±


    ¡°H-huh? Why would we talk about my love life?¡± asked the fox, with a blink.


    ¡°I was under the impression that it was the purpose behind your visit.¡±


    Sylvia shook her head. ¡°My love life has nothing to do with it. I was just gonna ask you to fix Claire¡¯s stupid catgirl skill.¡±


    Al raised a brow. ¡°I would love to, but frankly, it¡¯s impossible.¡±


    ¡°H-huh? What the heck is that supposed to mean!?¡±


    ¡°She was too stubborn to accept the fetish. It was only really a matter of time before she overcame it. The only way for me to return it to working order would be to destroy her mind.¡±


    ¡°Gosh, Al! You can stop pretending,¡± said the fox, with a huff. ¡°I¡¯m not talking about the part that affects her! I¡¯m talking about the part that affects other people. I know you made it so it kicks in and messes with my head whenever she kisses me!¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence. Al slowly raised a finger and looked back upon a set of records before breaking into an explosive cackle. Practically choking on his own laughter, he smacked the table as he coughed and wheezed.


    ¡°Oh, come on! It isn¡¯t even that funny.¡±


    Her complaints did nothing to silence his hysterics. It wasn¡¯t until he turned blue in the face that he finally managed to regain his composure. Even then, it wasn¡¯t fully restored. He still laughed from time to time, snickering under his breath as he tried and failed to speak.


    ¡°It¡¯s very funny,¡± he finally said, after a solid minute of self-strangulation. ¡°Because I haven¡¯t done anything at all.¡±


    ¡°Huh? What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± Sylvia tilted her head. ¡°You¡¯re clearly messing with me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve done nothing of the sort.¡±


    ¡°But I wa¡ª¡±


    ¡°Sylvia.¡± He clasped his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and pulled his giant, floppy hat over the top half of his face. ¡°Stop lying to yourself.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not lying to myse¡ª¡±


    ¡°She knows it. I know it. And you know it too. I admit, there are many reasons to continue feigning ignorance. The circumstances are far from clear cut, but that does not mean that you have to deny the facts.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡±


    ¡°Then why do you care how it feels when you kiss her?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s super weird. And it¡¯s just like, you know, kind of really awkward.¡±


    ¡°You think that was weird and awkward?¡± There was no energy in his voice. He sounded more tired than entertained, like he was on the verge of falling asleep. ¡°Alright, how about this. Take a second, close your eyes, and imagine how unpleasant and weird it¡¯d feel if you weren¡¯t madly in love with her.¡±


    ¡°H-huh? What are you talking about? I¡¯m not madly in love with her. In fact, I¡¯m not in love with her at all!¡±


    Al pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed a sigh. ¡°Sylvia, child. Do we really need to go through this whole song and dance? Are you so reluctant to admit it, so afraid of the consequences that¡­¡± He sighed. ¡°Fine. Here.¡±


    With a snap of the fingers, he summoned a blob of dirt in the space before him. Right away, it took Claire¡¯s shape, perfectly mimicking everything from the contours of her body to the complete lack of emotion plastered all over her face. ¡°Try telling her that you love her.¡±


    ¡°I just sai¡ª¡±


    ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Ugh¡­ okay, fine.¡± The foxgirl walked up to the statue and boldly prepared to make the proclamation, only to freeze in place before the words could part from her lips. Her cheeks grew hot and her breath grew ragged. Her heart started to pump as she recalled the sensation of their lips entwined. Suddenly, her mind was blank.


    She hadn¡¯t the faintest clue how to form the words on the tip of her tongue, how to push them through her lips and into the world.


    ¡°Do you see now, child?¡± Al yawned. ¡°It is exactly as I¡¯ve said.¡±


    ¡°Only because you¡¯re messing with my head again!¡± shouted the fox.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t done a thing.¡±


    ¡°B-but I don¡¯t like girls that way!¡±


    ¡°That part is true,¡± said Al.


    ¡°Then ho¡ª¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t like girls that way in general. But that doesn¡¯t mean that it¡¯s impossible for you to like a girl that way.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense¡­¡±


    ¡°It makes plenty of sense, but I can¡¯t be bothered to explain any of the mental gymnastics,¡± said the demigod. ¡°You may as well take my word for it. Need I remind you that I am your creator?¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re not just stringing me along ¡®cause you wanna watch or something?¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess I can¡¯t blame you for thinking it, but no, I¡¯m not.¡± Al scratched his beard. ¡°I¡¯m aware that most of the advice I¡¯ve given you so far has been¡­ far from the best. Much of it was entirely for my own amusement.¡±


    ¡°W-wait, really?¡±


    The old human paused for a moment before forcing a bit of a smile. ¡°...But what I say now comes with the best of intentions.¡±


    ¡°Hold on! You can¡¯t just say you were messing with me and move on! What the heck did you mean by that!?¡±


    Al cleared his throat. ¡°It¡¯s often said that happiness comes from following one¡¯s heart, but frankly, the statement is false and irresponsible.¡±


    ¡°Al! You can¡¯t just keep going! Tell me what you meant by the thing you said before!¡±


    ¡°I serve as what is effectively the prime example. My path was carved almost entirely by following through on my whims and hearts¡¯ desires. And as you are well aware, it has gotten me nowhere. The woman I fell for wanted nothing to do with me, not only because her heart was set, but because of the record I held. I failed to consider her feelings.¡± He pulled his hat further over his face, completely obscuring it from view. ¡°My mistakes cannot be undone. I¡¯ve done too much, committed to do much, and set myself on a course with no correction. I have no other way forward but to stoop to the lowest of the low.¡±


    Sylvia half opened her mouth, but she soon closed it again and nodded.


    ¡°But you, child, you have the opportunity to succeed where I failed.¡± Al placed a hand on her head and lightly ruffled her hair. ¡°Do not repeat my mistake and simply force your love upon her. Think long and hard about your approach. Find compromise, a middle-ground that encompasses both of your needs. But that is not to say you should abide by her wishes alone. There are times to stand strong. You are still your own person with your own needs. I won¡¯t advise you on the particulars. They don¡¯t have meaning if you fail to figure them out yourself.¡±


    Sylvia clenched her fists and bit her lips as she slowly forced a nod.


    ¡°Excellent¡­¡± Al twisted his lips into a grin. ¡°Now, how about I install a few spells that¡¯ll help you along? Perhaps one that¡¯ll aid you in growing a fully functional pe¡ª¡±


    ¡°I-I think I¡¯m fine without it!¡± said Sylvia, shouting over him. ¡°Anyway uhmmm, thanks for advice, Al. It helped a lot.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± He smiled. ¡°Now off you go.¡±


    With a snap of the fingers, he opened a hole in his realm¡ªa portal that led right back to the place from whence she came.

 Chapter 395 - The Flames of Dispassion

    Chapter 395 - The Flames of Dispassion


    The queen of Vel¡¯khan adjusted the position of her oversized hat as the dungeon¡¯s entrance slowly shrank away. Having spent a few hours on a cursory survey, the party was headed back to town atop the usual wagon.


    It was not a hasty retreat that had driven the return, but a well established plan. The first day was only meant to verify the relative accuracy of their intel and to confirm the function of their wetsuits; they had only cleared the first of the ten floors that constituted the dungeon¡¯s depths.


    Though the easiest by far¡ªthe precise design of the floors thereafter appeared incredibly sadistic on paper¡ªit had proven itself a challenge regardless. It was not the rank and file that gave them trouble. The mimics were certainly obnoxious, but most lacked the raw power to pose an immediate threat. Only the speaking mimics were capable of doing significant harm, but it was only by engaging in their proposals that they could link the chain of cause and effect.


    Even then, even if one was to be hit by an assured attack, the mimics¡¯ victory was hardly guaranteed. They were only good at delivering opening strikes.


    The rest of the monsters were fairly weak as well. One could safely ignore the spiders and pterodactyls so long as the webs and sky were avoided. But the floor boss, or rather the floor bosses, were far more difficult to dismiss. They shared an ultimate ability that activated immediately upon a would-be fatal blow and dragged all active combatants into an alternate realm where magic was outright denied. The first to land a substantial hit thereafter would decide if the attack would land. To finish the ashen warriors, the challengers had to strike the skeleton whose near fatality had triggered the realm. Suffering a blow or attacking the wrong skeleton would lead to the deathblow¡¯s undoing.


    Though it was an incredibly obnoxious ability, it was hardly the worst to be encountered in the dungeon. The second floor¡¯s boss dealt damage by running away. For every kilometer it fled, all individuals in combat with it would lose a tenth of their health. It was absurdly agile, and to make matters worse, there was another large monster that served as an environmental hazard that impeded any would be pursuers.


    The massive four-headed snake attacked everyone who ventured outside of the designated boss zone. The boss itself, however, was subject to no such rule and could freely run wherever it pleased.


    So on and so forth, each boss had a gimmick, and Ciel was looking forward to dealing with none of them. Still, it was not as if she could simply shy away from the dungeon. It was precisely because the monsters had gimmicks that they made for such good practice. Powerful fighters often had the same tricks up their sleeves. That was not to say that they could drain a challenger¡¯s health by way of extreme cowardice, but each was likely to possess a potent ability sure to warp the way the battle unfolded.


    That much was certainly true for the aspect that was Cadria¡¯s god-king. Like the many monsters that roamed Crimson Rock, he had an ultimate ability that ignored the playbook in its entirety. Of course, though certainly far more potent, ultimates were not the only such threat. Powerful ars magnae bent the rules all the same. Ciel¡¯s blinding shadows served as one such example. It was through their merit that they had defeated one of the Ashen Primordials. By robbing the skeletal knights of their vision, she was able to neuter their swordsmanship so the party¡¯s other combatants could see them readily removed.


    The plan was to use the same ability on the four-headed snake that patrolled the second floor¡¯s perimeter, but only time would tell if it would prove successful.


    In the meantime, the party continued to plod along, their carriage filled with the day¡¯s loot. They had mostly intact skeletons from the ashen primordials, fresh cut leather from the pterodactyls, and a couple stray gemstones ripped off the local mimics. None of the pieces were particularly valuable¡ªthe first floor wasn¡¯t nearly as dangerous as the rest of the dungeon, and some of the more powerful locals would visit it when strapped for cash¡ªbut the wetsuits had put a dent in their wallet and some return was always better than none. At the very least, the sales would pay for stabling their turberi over the course of their two-week exploration.


    Though they had left the turtles by the dungeon¡¯s entrance during their brief, three-hour stint, it was by no means a viable long-term solution. Food wasn¡¯t the problem. They were fully capable of feeding themselves, but they were tame and stupid enough that, with enough time, a random passerby could easily befriend and subsequently abduct them. And two weeks, unfortunately, was more than long enough.


    The estimate that came with their subterranean adventure was almost entirely backloaded. Of the twenty days, only two were allotted to the first four floors. The fifth was given the same amount of time. They had a map that detailed the path they needed to take, but it wasn¡¯t to scale, and every mistake would set them back at least six hours. But from that point on, they figured that their progression would slow to what was effectively a crawl, and not just on account of the bosses.


    Arciel wasn¡¯t looking forward to it. The weakest monster beyond the sixth floor was at least on par with the level thousand leviathan on which she had honed most of her skills; the strongest dungeon monster in Vel¡¯khagan¡¯s vicinity was but another weakling before the forces they faced in Kryddar.


    She didn¡¯t even want to imagine how much they would struggle in Cadria.


    But at least for the time being, there was no need to worry. She only needed to direct her focus to the task at hand.


    ___


    Virillius Augustus narrowed his eyes as he looked over the map his spymaster had laid upon the table. The heavily detailed atlas provided an almost perfect overview of the nation¡¯s southernmost appendage. Reconstructed in vivid detail, it highlighted every single village that dotted the rulerless march.


    As some of the people were nomadic¡ªthe caribou-based cervitaurs that often wandered the nation never settled in one spot for long¡ªthe precise boundaries were not drawn in, but rather illustrated upon the map through a set of crystal pieces. They had just been placed in the most up-to-date locations, arranged by the spymaster as Virillius entered the room.


    The god-king had recently taken to managing the domain himself. The task was not meant to be his. It clearly belonged to a marquis, someone a little lower on the social ladder with less on their plate and far more free time, but the last two rulers to take the helm had both found their ends abroad. To the king¡¯s dismay, there was no one else qualified to seize control. The locals were unlikely to accept rule from a neighbouring lord, courtesy of the differences in provincial law, and none of the remaining candidates qualified for the position of governor. Too much esoteric knowledge was required, and it was only the late Timaois and his officers who knew so many of them by heart.


    To Virillius¡¯ dismay, exactly zero of the aforementioned officers had happened to keep their lives. Porcius, the man he had appointed to take Timaois¡¯ place, had rounded them all up and taken them on a foolish quest to seek revenge for their master¡ªa problem that had annoyed Virillius to no end.


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    It was the exact opposite of what he had anticipated that the man might do, and to make matters worse, Porcius had never clued Virillius in on the plan¡¯s existence. The king had only learned of it courtesy of the public announcement made just in advance of the army¡¯s departure.


    By then, it was already too late to put a stop to the scheme. To call it off at such a late stage would only cast aside the loyalty of those who served the Pollux march. It was largely a function of the peaceful status quo. There was no other front that he could claim demanded more of their attention, nor any other way to redirect their hostilities without biting himself in the hoof.


    The whole scenario was a headache and a half, and Virillius wanted nothing to do with any of it. Granted, the same could be said of the march management that had come following Porcius¡¯ demise. Virillius had never once wished to govern. Unlike his father, he lacked the necessary talent. He was much happier when his uncle was king, or at least he had been, before he discovered the traitor¡¯s deception.


    Fortunately, there was a much different task on that day¡¯s agenda.


    Unfortunately, it was just as much of a pain.


    As per the spymaster¡¯s reconstruction, their surveillance network was without a single clear hole. They covered the province in its entirety. Every road was watched, every forest was covered. They had men placed in every town, village, and city; no stone was left unturned. Some of the other nobles had even invested their own special forces to further bolster the network. And yet, Constantius remained uncaptured.


    It wasn¡¯t like he was simply eluding them. Virillius knew that his brother was hopping from town to town and city to city, going wherever he pleased without any concern for the beefed up security. The only constant was that he never strayed too far from the southernmost border. How he managed the feat was yet an unsolved mystery, and Virillius was beginning to suspect that he only revealed his presence for his own amusement. It wouldn¡¯t have been even the least bit surprising. Constantius had always been the sort of degenerate to bask in another¡¯s frustration, even if it came at the cost of a threat to his person.


    Coincidentally, it just so happened that Virillius was incredibly annoyed, not that he would ever let his brother¡¯s antics get the better of him.


    The best shot at victory was simply to go and resolve the situation in person. He knew Constantius far better than any of the agents involved, and he knew that he could catch him so long as he managed to find a fresh trail, just as he did back then. Alas, he was subject to the same problem that had prevented him from acting on Porcius¡¯ stupidity. Too many people would lose face, and perhaps even turn their allegiance against him, even if placated for the immediate future.


    Ironically, it was his daughter who cemented his rule. If not for her acts of rebellion, the very warlords who had always wished for his rise likely would have suspected his motives.


    The proxy war with Vel¡¯khan was considered by his supporters to be a genius move. They viewed it not only as proof of his thirst for conquest, but also a manner of demonstrating their national prowess on a continental stage. After all, the colosseum was open for observation, and interested foreign nations were already reserving their spots. At the same time, it promoted competition within the ranks and drove the nation¡¯s warriors to refine their skills. Many chased the goal with rabid ambition, climbing higher and higher in hopes of becoming one of the many champions that rose above the rest. And not only that, the format ensured that Virillius would fight. He would demonstrate his absolute power and separate those worth challenging from those whose value was worth no consideration.


    The man in question, however, was less keen on becoming a spectacle. He had always had eyes on him. That much could never be changed, purely on account of the nature of his role, but it felt like there had been far more of them, ever since he had taken up his uncle¡¯s throne.


    It was stifling.


    His people were constantly on the lookout, always trying to interpret his intentions in hopes of acquiring his favour. He almost wished that he was less petty. But that much, he knew would remain unchanged. He would always be petty, when it came to the matters of his lost beloved.


    On most weeks, he would have been able to look forward to the afternoon at least. Claire should have been due for a visit, another training session, but the fake had approached him earlier in the morning and informed him of her absence. Apparently, she was too busy with a dungeon to spare any time for his attempt at education.


    He wanted to curl up in a corner and put himself to sleep.


    There was nothing to look forward to.


    Perhaps, he was in need of a break¡ªa brief sabbatical to refresh his mind and relieve the stress that came with his duties. But alas, there was no such opportunity. His schedule was packed full of things to do, and he had recently taken on even more responsibilities to better use the time he had once dedicated to determining his brother¡¯s location.


    He was in desperate need of more scribes, but they were almost impossible to recruit. It wasn¡¯t like he could simply grab people off the street even if they had all the right abilities. The nobility was sure to take offense if a commoner with no battle prowess was to enter a position of political power, not to say that they would necessarily do a good job even without the objection. Cadria had a long history, and not all the cultures therein were quite as unified as one might have imagined. There were many subtle nuances and taboos, and it was only really the nobility that bothered to learn them all.


    Though bluebloods were far more qualified in general, Virillius was just as incapable of hiring them outright. Conflicts of interest were far too rampant; it was almost impossible to separate an aristocrat from their family affairs.


    It didn¡¯t help that the noble houses were further divided into factions often with no relation to their vested financial interests. He would have to employ a roughly equal number from each faction to ensure that no one group was picked on or allowed to get out of hand. It was an impossible task, even more daunting than tackling all of the paper work almost entirely by his lonesome.


    Virillius was so desperate that he tried to pawn some of it off on his butler¡ªone of the few men he trusted with all of his affairs¡ªbut Cleveland had promptly refused, much to the god-king¡¯s dismay.


    That was what brought him to the status quo. Tired, annoyed, and pushed past his limit, he could only stare at the map before him with his face as frozen as ever.


    ¡°Is something the matter, Your Majesty?¡± asked the spymaster. The man in question was hardly the sort of creature that one would expect to work for the secret service. In his line of work, cottontails were typically considered to be the most successful. They were not only native and incredibly abundant, but also small enough that they could easily go unnoticed.


    The spymaster was none of those things. Standing at five meters tall, he was well above average for a thoraen warrior. One would typically expect his size to come with a fair amount of bulk, but he was surprisingly skinny, with his arms looking more like noodles than they did a set of limbs belonging to any sort of ogre. It was obvious even through his suit, which fit so loosely on his body that it looked like it would fall right off his shoulders.


    ¡°I told you not to call me that,¡± said Virillius.


    ¡°I know.¡± The spymaster smirked. ¡°I figured it¡¯d get your attention, since, you know, it looked like you were spacing out.¡±


    The moose frowned internally. ¡°I have been¡­ busy lately.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, tell me about it,¡± said the spymaster. ¡°So? What do you think he¡¯s up to anyway?¡± He turned his eyes back on the board, specifically at the piece that was meant to denote the location where they last sighted the king¡¯s dear brother.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Virillius. ¡°We¡¯ve no way of knowing what¡¯s going through his mind, especially not after he¡¯s been so quiet for so long.¡±


    ¡°Should we send more men then?¡±


    The king paused. ¡°Yes. Find him as quickly as you can.¡±


    His brother¡¯s motives were irrelevant.


    Either way, he would eliminate the conniving bastard before he crossed his daughter¡¯s path. He could not be allowed to involve her in his schemes.

 Chapter 396 - The Flames of Dispassion II

    Chapter 396 - The Flames of Dispassion II


    Claire collapsed as soon as she passed through the fifth floor¡¯s door. Falling face first into a pool of lava, she closed her eyes and basked in the gentle warmth as it washed right off her scales. Physically, she was doing just fine; her exhaustion started and ended inside of her head.


    One might have assumed from a brief glance that the lyrkress was simply weak-willed. But if anything, the lazy spat was a reward for her perseverance. It had taken three whole days of nonstop repetition to brute force her way through the maze. Even as she reached the destination, she hadn¡¯t the faintest clue as to how one was meant to differentiate between the places that led elsewhere in the dungeon and those that marked the way forward.


    She had tried everything from heightening her senses to freezing the whole floor, but it was to no avail. The dungeon warped everything the moment anything moved out of bounds, spells and other entities included. She even tried staying on the fourth floor while Boris and Starrgort went on ahead, but the seemingly logical solution produced the same illogical result. Everything between floors three and five would always be warped straight into a mimic. And if there were no mimics remaining, a fresh one would instantly spawn.


    It was a nightmare. She had no choice but to map out the route and complete the maze precisely as its creator intended.


    Claire had been deathly afraid that the sixth floor would prove itself just as ridiculous. After all, the previous sets had come in pairs. But thankfully, it was perfectly normal. She was greeted with the sight of a fiery alley, with pools of lava scattered all over its floors, walls, and ceilings.


    Hence, the collapse.


    Finally free from the living hell, she flopped into the first hole she found and allowed herself a brief moment of rest.


    It was the first break she took since she left the fox behind. She had expected Sylvia to catch up within the first dozen hours, but three days later, she was still missing in action. Claire was almost tempted to go back to the second floor to check if she was still shell-shocked, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to do it.


    There was a small chance that the fox had simply vanished in the wake of the event, and she would much rather leave the unknown in place than have the suspicion confirmed.


    The concern only added to Claire¡¯s discomfort. But while she wanted nothing more than to lay in the fire and temporarily cast her consciousness aside, she eventually rose from the dormant position and looked down the fiery hall.


    Unlike many of the others that had come before it, it did not end in an ornate door. Only a few dozen meters long, it ended in an intersection that became a pair of branching paths. The way the sound echoed off the walls revealed a more labyrinth-like structure, and a single glance at the walls revealed a more natural structure than the artificial corridors that had lined the floors above. Lava dripped from the ceilings and walls, covering the path with fiery streams sure to prove hazardous to those whose feet were poorly protected.


    Though she was awfully suspicious at first, she found not a monster in sight, not even any mimics hidden amongst the walls. She would have known if they were there. No matter how well they were concealed, they could never quite hide their hungry gazes.


    Slowly, lethargically, Claire raised herself from the lava and began her advance. Still in her tiniest form, she snaked through the air, floating forward with all the vigour of a baked potato. Some of the lava still coated her scales, but she couldn¡¯t be bothered to shake it off. It came off on its own when it eventually cooled and turned to stone regardless.


    Though the first four had been packed to the brim with monsters, the dungeon¡¯s sixth floor was oddly devoid of life. Even relying on her ears, it took twenty minutes to find her first encounter.


    Half the fault was her own. Still in no mood to rush, she had cruised along at a slow walking speed¡ªa speed that remained unchanged even as she set her eyes upon her prey¡¯s back.


    The monster in question almost seemed out of place. Like all of the other monsters on the evenly numbered floors, its nature was primarily aquatic. It had claws like a crab, legs like a crab, and a shelled body just like that of a crab¡ªall traits that stemmed from the fact that it was precisely the end result of carcinisation.


    It almost looked like it had been pre-cooked. Its shell was a mix of whites and reds, and someone had seemingly cut its back right open and replaced its insides with a homely soup. The ladle that sat in its body was accompanied by a thick, creamy broth, several giant leeks, and even a few blocks of tofu. She couldn¡¯t quite see any meat or mushrooms from the angle she observed it¡ªit stood almost ten meters tall and towered over her position¡ªbut her tongue picked up the scent when she flicked it through the air.


    Neither its edibility nor its flavour could easily be trusted, but a brief glance at the walking meal reminded the lyrkress that she was in need of food.


    She began by abducting her prey. Magically yanking its limbs off of its body, she brought a claw to her face, and inspected the shell¡¯s interior. She had half expected to find the meat pre-cooked, but somehow, it was still raw and fishy. She did consider taking a bite regardless, but with a shake of her head, she recalled her pride and cast the limb aside.


    Glancing back at the monster, she found it looking around in confusion. Though it struggled to turn around, its whole demeanour transformed as soon as it laid its eyes upon her. It furiously ganshed its mandibles while the soup that filled its body began to boil and bubble.


    A fresh set of legs and claws suddenly sprouted from its broken stumps, and with a leap, it started dashing towards her. Though it certainly looked angry enough to pop a casket and a half, the efficacy of its charge was questionable at best.


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    Claire ripped its body apart with another set of spells, targeting everything that wouldn¡¯t damage the integrity of the soup container. She was confident she did enough damage to kill it. And yet, somehow, it seemed almost unbothered by its lack of limbs. It grew them right back and resumed its charge, showing not a single sign of pain anywhere on its face. The nature of its recovery almost reminded her of a Cadrian warrior, so she dashed forwards and smashed Boris into the place where she thought its brain would be.


    She had clearly crushed its head. Its soupy insides spilled from its broken body, but again, the crab began to heal.


    At the very least, the previous attack had hinted at its weakness. It had brought its claws to its face when she struck it, seemingly recoiling in pain as it held its body together.


    Claire, of course, did not miss the opportunity. She bashed Boris through its claws and into its skull, hitting it over and over, but it refused to collapse even as she broke its whole body apart. For some odd reason, it pressed its mandibles to the ground as best as it could. It looked like its body was healing as a result, but eventually, it fell limp, dying in a pool of its own seafood stock.


    Log Entry 856854


    You have slain a level 1193 Bisqurab Deluxe.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 25 points of strength


    - 14 points of wisdom


    Claire tilted her head. The kill made no sense. It almost looked like the creature was on the verge of recovery. But for some odd reason, it had suddenly decided that its life had come to an end.


    She briefly glanced at its corpse, noting the vegetables and other soupy remnants that lay within its casket, before shaking her head free of the ridiculous idea. She invoked Llystletein Authority instead and summoned a basket of stale bread. It appeared between her talons almost instantly, taking none of the time that she was accustomed to. She hadn¡¯t really used the skill much recently, and though she knew its process had accelerated, she was still caught off guard by its sudden completion.


    The bread had formed so quickly that she wasn¡¯t yet in the mood to eat it. The crab¡¯s rancid stench still danced on the tip of her tongue, and it was not by will or necessity that she had summoned the meal in the first place. So, discarding the basket almost as quickly as it had appeared, she wrinkled her nose and continued on her way.


    There was no point in stuffing herself with anything so disgusting when she could easily head into town and partake in a high-end restaurant. And once she was done with the dungeon, she decided, she would treat herself to just that. Cadria was close enough that a quality steak was no longer impossible to find.


    Her motivation finally renewed, Claire gave her body a quick stretch and bolted through the halls, stopping only to destroy the monsters whose bonuses she had yet to claim. There were floating fish that swam through the air, barnacles that grew where the lava touched the stone, and octopuses that peeked out from within the molten rock, all attuned to fire over the water to which their shapes were adapted.


    The boss that awaited her in the final chamber was a stone shark with a miniaturized volcano built into its snout and fresh volcanic fluids pumping through its veins. Its face erupted and flooded the room with magma every time she happened to strike it, but the gimmick did little to preserve the creature¡¯s life. A brief delay was all she needed to see it readily dispatched.


    From there, it was mostly smooth sailing. The seventh floor shared the sixth¡¯s layout, only everything was underwater and the flowing fire was replaced by streams of air. The monsters, likewise, had their elements seemingly switched out at random. The halls were filled primarily with pterodactyls and spiders, only the winged reptiles somehow flew underwater while the spiders had traded their blazing threads for those made of ice and water.


    Their levels were a bit higher as well. They averaged around 1300, with the boss¡ªa skeleton wearing a wetsuit with a fishbowl over his head¡ªanother 200 higher. Even its signature ability was practically identical, though instead of besting it in a magicless duel, the condition was to win a race under water.


    It almost felt uninspired. She was already bored of the dungeon¡¯s silly gimmicks, and the outright repetition did everything but catch her interest.


    Neither floor eight or nine proved themselves any less boring. One was set within a giant geyser, while the other was a beach placed beside a sea of fire. Because the floors were so open, and because she was sick enough of the dungeon to plough her way straight through, neither floor ate up too much of her time. The bosses were annoying enough to take up an hour apiece, but it was hardly because of their strength. Their gimmicks were simply annoying, with both demanding specific conditions for their deaths.


    Whatever the case, she had reached floor ten by sunrise. Her expectations at an all time low, she stepped through the portal and prepared to accelerate, only to stop in her tracks and tilt her head.


    The tenth floor¡¯s environment was nowhere near as derivative as any of those to precede it. The theming was unchanged¡ªit was both volcanic and watery¡ªbut the two disparate biomes had finally been seamlessly combined.


    Claire stood on a cloud that overlooked the rest of the dungeon. Spread in front of her was a vast ocean whose waters were clear as the sky they reflected. She couldn¡¯t quite see all the way to the bottom. At the very centre lay a massive hole deep enough to rob her vision, despite the pristine waters. It was surrounded by a full range of volcanic mountains. The tallest were scattered around the perimeter, forming a ring around the abyssal shaft. They sank deeper into the sea as they spiralled inwards, even though their horizontal footprints only grew evermore.


    Because the waters were so clear, she could see the threats that swam within it.


    The middle was particularly well protected, guarded by a shark of such a size that its fin could give the smaller spires a decent run for their money. There was nothing that flew high enough to reach her, but the skies too were dotted with beasts¡ªsea-faring creatures with wings like the pterodactyls that had populated the floors before them.


    But she had no chance to debate their deaths. The world began to shake. Suddenly, the depths came to life, revealing not only the massive land mass residing deep within the waters, but also a pillar of fire. The pyroclastic attack rent the ocean asunder, completely vaporizing the giant shark and carrying its remains beyond the heavens themselves.


    The water flooded back from the surrounding space and filled the ocean again. And with it, Claire was taken as well. The cloud beneath her feet vanished as the dungeon shifted her coordinates. She was placed on a narrow stone path, set atop a cliff just a few dozen meters above the roaring waves. Its end split into two, presenting her immediately with a choice of paths.


    She could either go left and enter the water, or she could go right and bask in the flame, but she did none of those things. Flapping her wings instead, she headed straight for the middle, straight for the place where the sea had been split apart.


    If her understanding was correct, then it was her ultimate destination. The volcano¡¯s caldera had to be open for it to be capable of erupting, and there was no reason to use one of the intended ways forward with such an easy shortcut in place.

 Chapter 397 - The Flames of Dispassion III

    Chapter 397 - The Flames of Dispassion III


    Claire swiveled her body to and fro as she dived her way through the depths. There was a veritable line of dead marine life left in her wake. Killer whales with bodies made of ice and fire, skeletal sharks measuring a full kilometer long, and sea serpents with venom potent enough to melt her scales outright. They were joined on occasion by skeletal fighters¡ªundead grugs with bandanas strapped over their heads and blades of light that cut straight through the darkness.


    Though they lacked the ability to negate fatal blows, the warriors were as skilled as the knights at the end of the first floor. Their swordplay was perfectly adapted to the underwater environment, and their use of three dimensional space far outclassed her own. Still, they made for easy kills. She ripped them apart with her vectors whenever they approached as she continued towards the mountain buried within the depths.


    The underwater volcano became visible again as she disassembled one of the skeletons with its own blade. A ball of white-hot fire suddenly rose from its crater and cut through the water. Even with her vectors, she wasn¡¯t confident in her ability to navigate out of its path.


    Her position was certainly a problem¡ªshe sat smack dab in the middle of its radius¡ªbut it was hardly the cause of all her woes. The attack was as fast as lightning. It shot by with such vigour that it could have easily caught her had she failed to immediately take note. Granted, such a failure would have proven impressive in its own right. The whole ocean lit up each time the volcano erupted, and all the water nearby would evaporate well before the flames would reach her. They were so hot that they blackened her scales each time she was struck directly.


    The first such attack, she had only endured by accident. Thinking that the plumes would be easy to move with her magic, Claire had opted to displace the fire in favour of displacing herself. Alas, it was to no avail. It wasn¡¯t like the flames had refused to move when she grabbed them. She did manage to steer the pillar slightly off course, but it was only the uppermost layer that abided by her commands. The volcano¡¯s spew consisted of too many small pieces to be moved with a single vector. And while shifting the eruption wasn¡¯t impossible per se, a lack of understanding and preparation had led to an unintended collision.


    All of the others that followed were far more purposeful. The burns didn¡¯t hurt nearly as much as all of her usual circuit damage, and she could easily restore her health by grabbing ahold of the undead monsters that emerged from within the pillar. Though she didn¡¯t think it too impressive, the volcano¡¯s rage was potent enough to further bolster her elemental resistance. The racial skill, which typically gained little experience on account of its dysfunction, leveled twice from just seven of its fiery attacks.


    It certainly didn¡¯t make for the most comfortable experience, but the pain was dull enough that she didn¡¯t mind it. She was almost starting to understand how her countrymen endured the supposed agony that came with active regeneration. Had she any space for a warrior class, she might have seriously considered picking up the ability herself. Alas, for the immediate future, it remained well beyond her grasp. Her newfound titular class had eaten her brand new slot. She would need to ascend again if she wanted to widen her skillset.


    Diving straight through another fiery pillar, Claire cut down a giant angler fish and entered the underwater caldera.


    It almost seemed like the fire was without a source. Nothing was glowing inside of the mountain. If anything, it looked like the darkness extended forever. Her impression remained until the next eruption. From much closer, she could see that the fire started at the bottom of the pit. It sparked to life as a single white speck within the lightless expanse¡ªa torch that lit her way.


    Dozens of identical flames sprang up all around her, coating the walls in a fresh layer of light. She braced herself, half expecting them to detonate and flood the chamber, but there was no such event.


    They danced instead, slowly swirling around in the abyss as a crack appeared at the bottom of the sea. It was not in the stone floor, but rather the space itself, a tear made of vectors that connected it to a location even deeper in the depths.


    Two skeletal hands poked through the opening, each as tall as her true form was long. Grabbing the portal¡¯s edges, they wrenched it just wide enough for the rest of the skeleton''s body to squeeze right through.


    It was not a grug like many of the others that had preceded it, though it still did possess a distinctly anuran head. The hands and the head were the only two grug-like parts, though if one were to stretch the definition, its body could loosely be described as a ribcage, and a particularly insistent observer could claim that its countless paddles appeared as would a set of long-legged feet.


    That, however, was where the similarities came to a strict end. One could describe neither its sail nor the flagpole that topped it as something belonging to a humanoid creature. Its precise shape was readily given away by its lack of a left or a right. For while it certainly had arms on both sides of its body, they were better described by the terms of port and starboard. As a ship with a core made of bone and a skin of half-rotten wood, it certainly would have taken offense to any other set of terms.


    Its appearance suggested that it ought to be adorned with a flag as black as the infinite abyss and perhaps even a froggy skull and crossbones. But while certainly a haunted ghost ship, paired alongside a full, ghastly crew, the vessel was by no means stained by a pirate¡¯s mark. Nay, what it flew instead was a brilliant red banner, marked with the royal seal of some fallen nation or other. That much was clear, not only from the crown that adorned the standard, but also the order and pride with which the soldiers conducted themselves.


    Unlike the bare skeletons on the floors above, they were dressed in suits of armour. The full-metal protectors almost perfectly obscured their fleshless bodies. It was only the gaps meant for their eyes through which their deathless nature was seen.


    One by one, they turned their eyes skyward; they locked on the caldriess in a heartbeat, despite her distance and her negligible size. She thought, perhaps, that it was simply a coincidence, a part of their routine meant to spook any skyward invaders. And yet, they followed her perfectly, no matter how quickly she moved or how far overhead she travelled.


    Half the warriors raised bows, while the rest vanished beneath the deck and grabbed ahold of the cannons. Altogether, they mounted a coordinated assault. The first round of projectiles was loosed precisely as the commander¡ªa skeleton whose armour was highlighted in red¡ªwaved his arm and clattered his jaws.


    So haphazard was the barrage that it looked more like an indiscriminate assault than it did a knightly demonstration. The projectiles fired off in every which direction without the slightest regard for the target¡¯s position.


    And yet, they nearly found her. The commander changed their trajectories with a wave of the wand and redirected them all at once towards the lyrkress¡¯ position.


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    Vector magic.


    A parlour trick as familiar as the back of her hand.


    Though she was tempted to repel the blades with a spell of her own, Claire dismissed the idea and charged straight through the wave instead. She parried with a Boris in each talon, knocking the swords and cannonballs out of her path without so much as looking their way.


    She could sense them. The directional forces provided a perfect indicator of each projectile¡¯s location and orientation, and she could even feel subtle changes in speed as the water took its toll. A second wave of attacks followed as she broke through the first, but she dodged it just as easily and quickly closed in on the ship.


    It desperately paddled with its hands while the feet that protruded from its sides rattled as quickly as they could, but it gained no speed until the mage waved his wand and kicked the ship into high gear.


    He moved it in a straight line, repositioning it exactly forty meters over a hundredth of a second. The force of the movement shook the volcano and practically cracked its innards wide open. Claire was hit by the same shockwave, but while it echoed through her body, she felt little more than the slightest hint of discomfort.


    Because just like the vectors attempting to rip her body apart, the shockwave was another one of the mage¡¯s spells. It was an application of vector magic she had never thought to try herself, in part due to the almost spelless variant resulting from Alfred¡¯s guidance. Her resistance to forces was even more powerful than her resistance to fire. If not for the lack of pain that accompanied her tiny form, if not for her ability to read his spells, she would have remained oblivious to their application.


    It was an outcome that came with no sense of accomplishment. She was almost annoyed at how easy it was. She had wanted an opponent that would push her limits, not one who was entirely incapable of taking her down.


    She assumed her true form as her annoyance reached its max and, with Boris between her jaws, rammed the ship and tore it asunder. Time froze as soon as she landed the attack, and as expected, she found herself in a realm with almost a thousand warriors. But even with their potency in water, they could do nothing. The other Boris she had in her hands changed his shape to that of a blade. He was repositioned to the tip of her tail and holstered to the limb in much the same way as an armblade.


    None of the wild strikes that followed managed to hit the skeletons whose near-deaths had initiated the time warp, but it didn¡¯t matter. She continued to swipe whilst going in and out of the distortion zone. Even if they refused to be slain, the frogs were scattered throughout the water.


    The ship reached with its massive, skeletal hands in an attempt to retrieve its crew, but she smashed its joints with her tail whilst bearing down on the commander with the dagger between her teeth.


    Only after his death did she start picking the fighters off. One by one, she slew them, as well as the sentient boat that was their ride, before looking towards the bottom off the sea. Surely enough, a door appeared in the space, but traversing beyond it, she found no more floors awaiting.


    The light that bore down upon her, as the teleporter completed its task, was the same light that illuminated the Kryddarian city just a few kilometers away. She was back up on the surface; the challenge was complete, even though she had yet to experience anything but endless frustration.


    She was so annoyed that she almost plunged her way back into the dungeon, just so she could tear it down, but the world distorted again before she was given the opportunity. A large, flattened stone formed in the space in front of her. Its flickering, purple core aside, the monolith was without any significant decoration.


    Darkness radiated from the light-thieving fire and swallowed her surroundings whole. It was like a void, a soul-sucking, empty infinity that denied the concept of light. And though he appeared before her as a cuttlefish once before, it was precisely the flame that was his true form.


    Awkward as ever, the man said not a word. He remained silent, with his embers only faintly dancing along as he observed the mortal before him.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t enjoy it.¡± When he finally spoke, it was in his usual, boyish voice. Though barely any louder than a whisper, it was not without its weight. His words echoed through the realm and into her mind, almost crushing it with its raw power.


    ¡°Not at all,¡± said Claire. ¡°It was awful.¡±


    ¡°I thought as much,¡± he said. ¡°The tenth floor was supposed to be a reward for those who made it, but it must have been too much of a change.¡±


    ¡°The tenth wasn¡¯t the problem,¡± she said. ¡°It was too annoying.¡±


    ¡°Which part?¡±


    ¡°Every part.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    An awkward pause.


    ¡°The monsters were obnoxious,¡± said Claire. ¡°They were a pain to fight. Killing them didn¡¯t feel rewarding. They were too weak to be challenging, but too annoying to be worth fighting.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    Another awkward pause.


    ¡°The fifth floor was sadistic.¡±


    ¡°It was to give the mimics purpose. I wanted them to be threatening. But I didn¡¯t want to inflate their levels or ability scores.¡±


    ¡°I would¡¯ve rather that.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± The god heaved a sigh. ¡°What about the other levels?¡±


    ¡°Too repetitive and boring,¡± said Claire. ¡°Half of them were practically long corridors.¡±


    ¡°I was worried they might¡¯ve seem that way,¡± said the god. ¡°Oh well. Next time then.¡±


    Log Entry 858137


    You have completed the ¡°Crimson Rock¡± quest.


    You have received a minor blessing from the God of Darkness. All stealth-based abilities have been enhanced, and you are now immune to the death volume that exists eighty thousand kilometers beneath the sea.


    ¡°Death volume?¡± Claire blinked, but the god simply stood flickering where he was, dancing in the darkness that shrouded his body.


    ¡°Do you remember the other thing I asked you?¡±


    Claire paused. ¡°The misadventure?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Ignacio Alvarez.¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll investigate him. If I can find him.¡±


    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be hard,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯ll meet him. On your way to the Langgbjerns.¡±


    ¡°How will I know I¡¯ve found him?¡±


    The god shrugged. ¡°You might not. I¡¯ll let you know, if I¡¯m not busy.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    There was another awkward pause, followed soon after by the realm¡¯s sudden disappearance. A blink was all it took for Claire to find herself back beneath the disembodied, subterranean sun. And there, she stayed, standing still as she looked beyond the horizon.


    Unsure of what to do, she brought her tail to her chin and took a moment to consider her options. There were still a few more dungeons in the area, and she didn¡¯t know how challenging they were exactly, but being in Kryddar, she figured that they had a fair chance of being worth her while. It was between that, catching up with Arciel, or catching up on sleep whilst completing another one of Vella¡¯s trails.


    She did still want to head into town for a quick bite as well, but though the steak was once her primary motivator, she didn¡¯t quite feel like she was in the mood.


    Vella¡¯s call was probably the best choice. And in spite of her distaste, she reached into her chest, grabbed the key, and prepared to answer, stopping only as she felt a muddled gaze resting upon her back.


    When she spun around to face it, she found a familiar fox. A forced smile on her face, Sylvia awkwardly waved her paw with none of her usual energy.

 Chapter 398 - The Flames of Dispassion IV

    Chapter 398 - The Flames of Dispassion IV


    ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    Though not quite as shaken as the fox, Claire paused briefly before she opened her mouth again. Her throat was awfully dry. Though she knew exactly what shape she wanted them to take, the words resisted when she tried to voice them. The longer the silence persisted, the more difficult it was to raise her voice. An awkward air set in, a strange sense of hesitation that grabbed her by the throat.


    ¡°H-hey,¡± said the fox. ¡°S-sorry I didn¡¯t catch up earlier. I was checking in with Al to make sure he wasn¡¯t gonna cheat me out of my 200 charges.¡±


    ¡°Did he?¡± asked Claire. Floating over lethargically, the tiny qiligon pressed her head against the vixen¡¯s. She didn¡¯t know why she did it. Perhaps because they were the same size, or perhaps because of the form she was in, it simply felt like the right way to give a greeting.


    ¡°Nope! I harassed him until he gave me all two hundred,¡± said Sylvia, with a huff. ¡°You were already wrapping up by the time I came back, so I thought it¡¯d probably be better for me to wait.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± said Claire. Though still a little hesitant, she floated on top of the fox and planted herself on top of her. She gently gripped her with her talons and gave her a makeshift hug. It felt right. It was the same thing as usual. But at the same time, it almost didn¡¯t. At the very least, the interaction was foreign enough that it took a few seconds for her to fully relax, to conclude that nothing had changed.


    Soon, Sylvia followed suit. She allowed the tension to drain from her shoulders as she lowered her body to the ground and yawned.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ are you doing that weird temperature thing on purpose again? You¡¯re so cold that you¡¯re making me want to sleep.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Claire. She reined in her aura after taking a moment to look at the freshly frozen grass beneath them. ¡°I just forgot to disable it. I was using it to protect against the fire.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah!¡± Sylvia¡¯s ears twitched. ¡°That reminds me. Did you ever check in on Ciel? I think I told her that I was gonna leave some echoes around but I totally forgot. Since uhmm¡­ I had to go check on Al and stuff.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen her,¡± said Claire. ¡°I just finished my first run through the dungeon.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ Wait, really? Isn¡¯t it like, only ten floors? I thought you¡¯d be done like three times already.¡±


    ¡°The fifth floor sucked,¡± said Claire. ¡°But my quest is done now.¡±


    ¡°You mean the one that the god of the depths gave you?¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°He gave me a minor blessing.¡±


    ¡°What kinda blessing?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m stealthier now.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmmm, I guess that might kinda help if I¡¯m not around,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°It should,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Are you gonna head into town and get a new quest to replace the one you just finished?¡±


    ¡°Maybe. Rikael already gave me something, but it doesn¡¯t really seem like anything I can work towards.¡± She buried her face into the back of the fox¡¯s head. ¡°I probably should.¡±


    ¡°Want me to come with you?¡±


    Claire paused. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Mmk, one sec.¡± Sylvia stood up on her hind legs and pressed a paw to her chest. The lyrics she sang were quiet and brief, but a series of ghastly foxes appeared around her nonetheless. Each sang its own song and opened its own portal, vanishing immediately into the dungeon¡¯s depths. Only then, once they all departed, did the original perk up again. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go!¡±


    Claire detached herself from the fox¡¯s back with a nod and floated her way towards the glimmering city off in the distance.


    The trip was much quieter than usual, but it wasn¡¯t anywhere near as awkward as their initial reunion. Though neither said much, though they refrained from the usual game of tag, the mood was more cheerful than not. They enjoyed each other¡¯s company as the scenery continued to change.


    For Claire, it was the norm, but being the more excitable of the two, Sylvia¡¯s tranquility came as a rare exception. Curious, Claire occasionally opened the eyes buried in her tail and checked on the fox following behind her, but for the most part, she seemed normal. She hummed a familiar, light tune under her breath and returned each look with one of her usual, silly smiles. Somehow, she was calmer after recovering from the attack on her psyche, even though Claire had expected the opposite.


    Her casual joy was frighteningly infectious. Claire found her own dour spirit abated after just a few minutes of travel. She still didn¡¯t feel like starting another conversation, but she was happy to join the fox in humming her song. And for a while, that was all that they did.


    The haphazard choir continued until they stopped in front of the city¡¯s shuttered gates. For Kryddarians, three in the afternoon was precisely the hour where most people were sound asleep. It was a phenomenon that manifested as clearly among the guards as it did the regular townsfolk. Only one of the two was awake and even she looked like she was on the verge of passing out.


    She groggily looked upon the halfbreeds, who waited silently in front of the checkpoint, before rubbing her eyes to check if they were real. When they failed to go away, she immediately drove an elbow into her partner¡¯s ribs whilst fighting back a yawn.


    ¡°Ey Beckard, you lazy bastard. Wake up.¡±


    ¡°Huh? What?¡± It took the second guard a moment to collect his wits.


    ¡°Look at the gate, moron.¡±


    ¡°The gate?¡± The cat-sith guard fought back a yawn as he looked past the glass that adorned the checkpoint¡¯s booth. ¡°It¡¯s just a pair of animals. They¡¯ll go away on their own if you leave them.¡±


    ¡°The weird-looking one that isn¡¯t a fox has got some jewelry on its ears. Looks like a Cadrian design. Not to mention, they¡¯re kinda being awfully patient for what they are.¡±


    Though they could have easily broken down the door or warped beyond it, neither Claire nor Sylvia had opted to do anything but stand in front of the checkpoint. There wasn¡¯t any particular reason for them to wait. They had simply been in the mood.


    ¡°Probably some rich kid¡¯s pets then. Just let ¡®em through,¡± said Beckard.


    ¡°You should really go talk to them,¡± said the female guard.


    ¡°You do it. I¡¯m sleepy.¡±


    ¡°Are you still fucking dreaming? How the fuck am I supposed to talk to them when you¡¯re the one with four legs!?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that has anything to do with anything.¡± Despite grumbling, Beckard slowly pushed himself out of the booth and approached the pair sitting in front of the gate. He couldn¡¯t help but think back on the past as he saw the fox standing next to the gate. It had been about a year since he had become one of the town¡¯s guards, and a little longer since he finally left Llystletein, but the sight of such a critter still put him on edge. The problem lay in its colouration. Local foxes had either grey or white fur, depending on the season. But the individual sitting in front of the gate was just as orange as the demons that reigned over his nightmares.


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    He quivered in his boots, but the former priest, the former Llystletein captive, shook his head before squatting down in front of the visitors. Being a cat sith, he was just short enough that he happened to match their eye level as he spoke in as gentle of a tone as he possibly could.


    ¡°Hey there, you two.¡± He flashed a well-intentioned smile. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you before. Are you trying to get home?¡±


    Sylvia opened her mouth to offer an explanation, but Claire cut her off with a sideways glance.


    ¡°Mreep,¡± said the lyrkress.


    ¡°Weird. Normally I at least have some idea what they¡¯re trying to say.¡± Beckard scratched his head and muttered a few words under his breath before returning his voice to its previous volume. ¡°Well, either way, if you were a pet or something, you probably know enough Marish to understand me, right?¡±


    ¡°Mnnreep?¡± Claire tilted her head.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ no dice with that one, looks like.¡± He looked over to the fox. ¡°What about you? Do you understand what I¡¯m saying?¡±


    ¡°U-uhh¡­ m-meow?¡± said Sylvia.


    A tingle shot up the length of Beckard¡¯s spine. He could feel the saliva forming a ball in the back of his throat as he processed the fox¡¯s strange cry. It was a fox¡¯s fault that Zelos had betrayed them. It was a fox¡¯s fault that two of his best friends, the paladins that had once served his goddess alongside him, had fallen in battle. And it was a fox¡¯s fault that he found his own faith wavering.


    As he looked a little closer at the animal, he almost found that it looked familiar, that it resembled the sadistic deviant who had jailed his old friend¡¯s heart. There were a few stark differences, like the length of its snout and the shape of its cheeks, but overall, it was similar enough that he began to tremble.


    ¡°Ain¡¯t working on you either, but I mean you did respond when I talked to you, and you do seem tame enough¡­¡± Still, he forced a smile and replied in a steady voice. It couldn¡¯t have been Daisy, and her daughter was out traveling with the psychopathic freak that was her companion. He was just projecting because he was tired. Either that, or it stemmed from his earlier encounter with Carter and Marleena.


    ¡°Mreep.¡±


    ¡°Alright how about this, if you understand me, then make three sounds.¡±


    ¡°Meow mermph!¡± Sylvia meowed twice, but a vector shut her mouth before she could do it again.


    ¡°Was it just a coincidence the first time? Or are you just saying stuff back ¡®cause I¡¯m talking to you?¡± The cat sith rose to his feet and yawned before massaging his face. ¡°Sorry, but I can¡¯t let you in unless someone vouches that you¡¯re safe. No exceptions, sorry. You¡¯ll have to wait for your master to pick you u¡ªwhat the!?¡±


    When he finally took his palms off his face, he found that both the critters were gone. The weird snake-like thing had already made it onto the other side of the gate, while the fox was in the middle of squeezing its way beneath the pickets. Its head fit right through, but its hips were wider, and it didn¡¯t manage to squeeze past the bars until the floating snake gave it a bit of a helping hand.


    He nearly gave chase, but he stopped himself after just a few steps and returned to his station. There was no point. He doubted that he could catch up, and it wasn¡¯t like a few mischievous critters would do much to threaten the city¡¯s security. And if they really were someone¡¯s pets, he would likely hear no end of complaints from the person in question, even if he was able to keep them detained.


    Upon his return, he turned to his partner, only to find her already in the midst of snoring¡ªa discovery he met with a tired sigh.


    The rule they had agreed upon was that only one of them was allowed to sleep at once. And though he had won the race earlier, she had, predictably, taken advantage of the task at hand to steal the march and pass right out.


    It was a cheap trick, but he did have to admit, it was sinfully effective.


    With no other choice, he rested his face into his paws, cast his eyes back on the road, and resigned himself to doing his job.


    He wasn¡¯t nearly as cross as his miffed expression might have implied. After all, having spent months wandering without purpose, it was in his new job that he had found himself again.


    ___


    Elsewhere in the city, a tired moth suffered the exact opposite experience. She lethargically slumped into her chair as her traveling companions made their plans in broad daylight. Lova wasn¡¯t tired per se. She had long grown used to rising with the sun and sleeping at night with all the others. Though it was certainly convenient for the Ortona Company, she had made the choice entirely on her own accord. She would soon be wed¡ªthey were in the middle of visiting her hometown so her groom could greet her parents¡ªand she wished for nothing more than for them to spend more of their time together.


    Carter had volunteered to become nocturnal so she could keep her schedule as it was, but Lova was twice ascended. Her body was capable of bearing more burden than his fragile form. And thus, the compromise was decided. He would engage in activities that made him more likely to become a nightwalker in another twenty levels. In the meantime, she would invert her schedule.


    He was making progress, but truth be told, it was a little slow. Lova had hoped that he would reach level 250 before the day of their wedding. She wasn¡¯t quite sure as to what would happen with halfbreeds, but Kryddarian children developed best during the night, and she was concerned for their kids¡¯ futures.


    Alas, Carter remained cautious and often refused to fight anything not clearly within his means. She couldn¡¯t really blame him. His peculiarities drove half her affections, and it wasn¡¯t like she wanted him to put himself at risk. At least not entirely. There was a small part of her that wanted him to go out of his way and push himself beyond his comfort zone.


    Logically speaking, she knew that it was a terrible thing to hope for, but she secretly prayed for it nonetheless. Oh so delighted she would be if he manned up only once in his life, entirely on her account, but such an act was not Carter-like in the slightest. In the first place, his attempts to level up were already a demonstration of his dedication. He had no such need. Unlike his partner, it wasn¡¯t like he was hired for his ability to fight.


    His role on paper was still that of bodyguard, but functionally, he was more akin to Marleena¡¯s aide. If anything, he was more skilled when it came to negotiating deals. His passive demeanour left a better impression on many of their business partners than Marleena¡¯s hot-headed aggression. That, however, was only applicable beyond their homeland¡¯s borders. In Cadria, most preferred her frank nature by far, and together, the pair was able to strike solid deals regardless of where exactly they were.


    In truth, she hadn¡¯t always thought too much of their abilities. After all, it didn¡¯t seem like they were doing anything special, just bartering as usual on a slightly larger scale. But after making that opinion known, and trying it for herself, she realised that there was far more depth than she had ever imagined. Both Carter and Marleena had robbed her blind when she tried, and it wasn¡¯t until they broke down the numbers post mortem that she understood her mistake to begin with.


    And thus, she was returned to the very same boring guard duty that happened to plague her in the present. A more motivated and proficient sentinel likely would have listened in on the party¡¯s plans whilst keeping an eye out the window, but Lova couldn¡¯t be bothered to do any more than the latter. Perhaps she might have, had they been in another land, but as a native Kryddarian, even one who had spent some time away, she remained perfectly confident in the city¡¯s safety.


    Kryddarian nests were notoriously difficult to attack. It was precisely because they were so robust that the nation¡¯s relationship with Cadria had remained so largely stagnant. Of course, the nests fell second to King Ragnar¡¯s ultimate ability, but the king had not even reigned for a thousand years, even though the two nations had been neighbours for what was generally estimated to be twice that time.


    A sigh on her lips, she allowed her mind to wander, until she caught the bell that came with the tavern door¡¯s opening. It was odd enough given the time of day that it drew her eyes immediately. Turning towards it, she found a pair of curious critters. One drew her eye immediately for its strange shape. It almost looked like a snake, but it had two pairs of legs, neither of which it put to use. The tiny bluish-white creature was floating in the air courtesy of the fluffy wings that grew from the sides of its head. It was accompanied by a peculiar fox, an especially fluffy one at that.


    ¡°Lova? Is something wrong?¡± asked Carter, as he raised his eyes from the map.


    ¡°I see a really cute fox.¡± She twisted her lips into a smile as she released her weapon and sank back into her chair. She, however, was the only one. Her fiance, however, was not quite as relaxed.


    ¡°A-a fox, you say?¡±


    ¡°Calm down, Carter,¡± she said with a laugh. ¡°It¡¯s not one of the dungeon¡¯s. There¡¯s no way it is.¡±


    She was confident in her judgement. Llystletein¡¯s foxes, after all, were all fearsome monsters. Their freakish, life-hating nature was reflected in the terrifying looks that often crossed their faces. The fox at the counter lacked any of those traits. If anything, it was the most adorable specimen she had ever encountered. Through its cute, almost cat-like noises and its big puppy-dog eyes, it managed to convince the tavern¡¯s owner to grab a pair of keys and lead it upstairs, in spite of its inability to speak.


    Everything seemed to point to the conclusion that they were a pair of pets, likely belonging to one of the other customers.


    Whatever the case, it made no difference to Lova. She turned her eyes back to the map and fought back the urge to yawn as she pondered the words with which she would greet her parents. They were unlikely to accept a centaur so readily. But Lova had already made up her mind. No matter what they said, she would make them acquiesce.

 Chapter 399 - The Flames of Dispassion V

    Chapter 399 - The Flames of Dispassion V


    Cadria had always been a nation that stood rife with conflict. The aggressive, warmongering nature of its people often led to violence, and it was precisely to serve as containment thereof that the colosseums were ultimately erected.


    They may as well have been omnipresent. There was one in every city that spanned the nation. Even some towns and large villages had their own, though they weren¡¯t quite up to the par of the expensive arenas built in the more populous settlements. It wasn¡¯t just a question of the materials that went into their construction. Only larger municipalities were able to afford the land-shaping artifacts that served to spice up the matches. Granted, even among those with terraformers installed, there remained a difference in standing. The artifacts themselves were certainly one factor to blame¡ªdifferent models came with different environments and allowed for the fighters to engage in all different forms of combat¡ªbut it was not as if the people who owned the establishments were fools. Rarely did a popular biome¡¯s module go unpurchased, for the cost was far outweighed by the revenue that such an addition brought in. So what then was the difference between a popular arena and one of its more desolate cousins?


    A wise man would answer with the quality of the matches¡ªfair fights brought in far more coin on account of their unpredictability, and those that hosted them saw more success on average¡ªbut an even wiser man would rebut that it was the fighters¡¯ fame. Strong names drew strong challengers and strong crowds in turn. And in the nation¡¯s southwestern lands, there was no name greater than that of the queen of blades. She was also known as the death dancer, the brutalizer, and the bloodstorm. And while none of those descriptors were particularly incorrect, she preferred exactly none of them.


    Agrippina of Brinsidia was convinced that she ought to have a more graceful name, but no matter how often she threatened the crowd, the wish was never granted.


    It wasn¡¯t like her titles were truly unjustified¡ªAgrippina often came out of her battles covered from head to toe in gore¡ªbut neither did she think that it was reasonable for none of them to comment on her looks.


    She was particularly proud of her outward appearance. Her hair was a soft, silky blonde, her face embodied that of a fair maiden, and all of her excess fat went to her sharp and perky chest. Her already impressive natural gifts were honed further by her careful management. She bought all the best shampoos to keep her mane as shiny as ever. She carefully managed her diet to mitigate the extent of her bulk¡ªshe made sure to keep herself looking more slim than muscular. She even paid extra attention to the length and presentation of her hooves, often clipping and trimming as short as possible, even at the cost of her performance in battle. She was practically perfect, a beauty by nearly every standard, but few ever looked upon her with even a hint of desire. It didn¡¯t make sense, or at least it shouldn¡¯t have if not for a fatal flaw.


    It wasn¡¯t her problem per se, but rather a blemish upon the minds of the people around her. For some reason or other, they only ever fixated themselves on her tiny, deformed ears.


    All those who paid her mind were known to the world as undesirables. They were either womanizers eager to lay indiscriminately with anything that moved or incorrigible degenerates who preferred small ears over their full, shapely counterparts. It was with that latter group that the gladiator picked a bone. The fetishists looked at her not as a person nor a whole package, but as one of the few who allowed them to satisfy their sick and twisted minds without breaking the laws that protected their nation¡¯s children. After all, her ears weren¡¯t just small. They were so tragically diminutive that she could hardly be compared to a yearling.


    That was why the rule was first recorded. She had declared, after a third proposal from one such pervert, that she would never wed a man any weaker than herself. It was just an excuse at the time, a way to keep society¡¯s dredges from approaching. But somehow, the public statement was warped out of proportion. Her challengers seemed to believe that defeating her would immediately win them her hand.


    Though an unwanted prize¡ªone of the few to gain the upper hand intentionally fumbled the match to avoid the obligation¡ªshe remained as Brinsidia¡¯s greatest attraction. And perhaps, with Tornatus¡¯ destruction, one could go as far as to argue that she was the greatest pull within the Pollux march.


    Storied fighters had gathered from all over the country to face her, and through some means or other, she had defeated them all. The swarm grew even greater after the king announced the war with Vel¡¯khan, and many of the defeated sang praise, claiming that she would surely be chosen as one of the seven. But unless the appropriate authority came to her and demanded her aid, she had no such intention.


    It wasn¡¯t because she was simply too vain, because she wanted them to ask for her help before she handed it over, but rather because she wasn¡¯t.


    Agrippina was no fool. Having seen the king and his subordinates in combat before, she knew better than to get a big head. They were true military veterans with tens or perhaps even hundreds of thousands of kills laid under their belts. She, on the other hand, was but a simple athlete. She could certainly best some of them if challenged in her domain, but in truth, gladiators were only warriors in name. Her methods were only applicable in a fair fight where neither combatant was typically invested in taking the other¡¯s life. In a true duel to the death, she could only go so far with a pair of blades meant more for display than war.


    It didn¡¯t help that her level was unmoving. She had gained less than five a year since she was crowned as the champion of Brinsidia¡¯s arena.


    Alas, there was nothing that she could do. She had at least one fight each week. There wasn¡¯t enough time to go too far for her training, and the only half-decent dungeon in the city¡¯s vicinity had its monsters capped out in the nine-hundred range. Even back when she had trained on every possible occasion, the rate of her growth had proven abysmally slow.


    Solving the problem was as simple as seeking some other haunt, but Agrippina had no such liberty. The contract that she had signed upon becoming a gladiator mandated that any mutually agreed upon schedule would have to be honoured, and in her drunken foolishness, the champion had long confirmed with the ringmaster that she would fight on the last day of each week until she was ultimately defeated.


    The precise terms for the contract¡¯s violation had never been specified, but that was all the more reason that Agrippina was unwilling to break it. She wasn¡¯t keen on finding out the price that the goddess of order happened to have in store. Of course, at the end of the day, it wasn¡¯t like she was being unreasonably exploited. The compensation was more than generous, and she could simply throw in the towel if she really wanted. There were no clauses to guide the terms of her surrender; the only fetters that bound her were forged of pride and profit.


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    It wasn¡¯t like her career would end even if she suffered a loss. She would still have one of the best gladiatorial records in the nation, but she would lose one of the powerful marketing tools that allowed her to sell her name. The best choice she had was to maintain the status quo.


    And it was precisely to do that, to perform the usual duty, that she was walking through the streets. The end of summer had always been her favourite time of year. Brinsidia was far too hot during the fourth and fifth months, though apparently she was one of the few that happened to sport the opinion. While most other centaurian subspecies shed their thick coats during the spring, Agrippina kept hers year round.


    It was not out of choice, but a result of her choice of ascension. As a sword dancer, she couldn¡¯t fight at her best with too many clothes on her person. Even high quality armour was too hindering and restrictive, and frankly, worked against the nudity bonus with which the class was equipped. Needless to say, thick winter clothes were even worse when it came to their effect on mobility. Hence her choice to do away with the need altogether.


    Northwind Prancer, as her race was known, transformed her from a regular deer to a reindeer. It came with a thick coat year round, as well as a set of expanding hooves and a much shorter tail. She was lucky enough to avoid the tomboyish antlers that some female reindeer would sprout, perhaps because she had only become one much later in life. Granted, with her circumstances as they were, it was difficult to say if the trait would have made her more or less attractive to a potential suitor.


    Risk of antlers aside, the only real downside was her newfound incompatibility with the heat of summer. Hence her partiality to the autumn winds.


    All of the extra colours only added to her enjoyment. She loved the way that the greens gave way to reds, oranges and yellows, though it was only in the area around Brinsidia that they could easily be judged. Any further north, and there were far too many evergreens for the winds to be dyed.


    The orange leaves continued to flutter throughout her walk, and for some odd reason, she continued to see the colour even after she entered the colosseum.


    It came in the form of the large beast standing in line for reception. At its core, the mysterious monster seemed to resemble a large cat, but Agrippina hadn¡¯t the faintest clue as to exactly what it was. She cared little for the whims and rules proposed by artificers and other sciency box-checkers, and all that mattered to her was that the beast was tame.


    The owner that held its reins hardly seemed reliable. He was a large thoraen man whose verdant skin was a notable shade darker than that of the rest of his species. Though still rather bulky, the ugly bastard was built thinner than the average bee-ogre. His natural tattoos, likewise, stood in great access. While most others only had stripes on his exterior, the cat¡¯s companion had them on his arms and legs as well.


    Perhaps even more confusing than that was the colour of this hair. The usual brown or black locks had been replaced with a head as yellow as a bed of straw.


    Though he was certainly peculiar, she didn¡¯t pay him too much mind. Her eyes returned to the cat instead. She almost felt duty-bound to watch it. Even if it didn¡¯t seem inclined to attack, a beast as long as four centaurs could not be so readily trusted. The cottontails standing in front of it were small enough that it could eat them with one bite. And if it wasn¡¯t careful, it could easily crush them to death with a single misstep.


    ¡°Awrroo?¡±


    The beast in question, however, was nowhere near as concerned as she. Cocking its head in her direction, it bumped its master with its face and gestured her way with its tail, perhaps to inform him that she was keeping watch.


    That, however, only furthered her suspicions. She furrowed her brow and narrowed her gaze. She didn¡¯t have her weapons on hand¡ªboth swords were stored in her locker¡ªbut she was confident that she could stop the beast in its tracks regardless.


    She was so focused on the beast that she almost failed to notice when its master left the line and made his way towards her. If not for his pounding steps¡ªhe didn¡¯t quite shake the whole venue, but the chandeliers certainly complained¡ªshe likely would have embarrassed herself when he suddenly obscured his orange pet.


    ¡°Are you the queen of blades?¡± His voice was gruff, low enough that it almost sounded like he was growling in spite of his amicable tone. It wasn¡¯t friendly or toady enough for her to think that he wanted her signature, but neither was he looking down on her.


    ¡°I am,¡± she said. ¡°And who are you?¡±


    ¡°I wanted to introduce myself before I entered the ring. I am Lucius Hyacinth, Starforged Voidhunter,¡± he said. ¡°I will finish climbing through the ranks in two weeks. And then, I will defeat you and make you my wife.¡±


    Agrippina¡¯s hands shot for her missing weapons as she narrowed her eyes. Her first instinct was to assume that the ugly bastard was a pervert, another one of those pesky freaks attracted to her childlike ears, but a more careful look at his face revealed that his eyes were devoid of lust. Only after a brief contemplation did she recall that, unlike cottontails and centaurs, thorae went by different standards.


    It wasn¡¯t entirely her fault. There were few of them in the Pollux march. The local army was known for prioritizing its cavalry. And as thorae preferred to function as infantry, they saw more upwards mobility in the neighbouring domains.


    That then led to the much more reasonable assumption that the aesthetically unfortunate man was simply a skilled fighter who wanted to test his limits like many of the others who came before him. Though with that being the case, she found it strange that he had explicitly stated his intention to wed her. Usually, it was the opposite. Most of her challengers would ask if it was possible to defeat her without claiming the accompanying prize. And for that, she always beat them within an inch of their lives.


    Agrippina¡¯s cheeks grew hot and her heart came to life with a flutter. It could only have meant one thing. All of the effort she had put into maintaining her appearance had finally paid off. It was a mystery as to how he managed to gauge her identity, but she soon realised that it wasn¡¯t quite as difficult as one might have misconstrued. After all, everyone knew that for someone who didn¡¯t care much for one¡¯s ears, Agrippina of Brinsidia was one of the most beautiful ladies there was. And having identified her as such at first glance, he couldn¡¯t help but get on his knees and proposed.


    Of course, the man in question hadn¡¯t actually gotten on his knees, but the sword dancer was happy to fabricate that particular part of her memory. Or at least that was the case, until she realised that he hadn¡¯t actually complimented her on her stellar looks. She knew in her heart that her assumption was right, but she wanted to hear it from his mouth.


    ¡°May I ask why?¡± she asked, with the most flirtatious smile she could have possibly construed.


    ¡°My god told me that you¡¯d be a key ally,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll need your help to beat my prey.¡±


    For a moment, Agrippina was agape with shock. She almost wanted to stab the man for twisting her narrative out of shape, but she realised, after another look at his rugged and surprisingly acceptable face¡ªshe could swear that it had been much uglier even just half a blink prior¡ªthat he was simply being coy. Of course he was, bless his innocent heart.


    ¡°Hmph. I¡¯ve heard that at least a hundred times.¡± She clearly hadn¡¯t. ¡°Try it, if you can.¡± Driving a foot into the ground in front of her, she crossed her arms and huffed.


    For some odd reason, she had vague impression that strange remarks, like ¡°for fuck¡¯s sake,¡± ¡°every goddamn time, I swear,¡± and ¡°not this shit again,¡± were echoing through the crowd. But paying it no mind at all, the blade dancer spun around and made for the observation deck.


    He did wind up making his way through the rankings. He worked his way up the ladder and soon defeated her right hand man. And yet, her champion¡¯s belt eluded his grasp. She trounced him both times he clawed his way to her seat and challenged her for her hand. It was not until the middle of the third match that she realised that he presented a golden opportunity. Simply by allowing her blade to twist astray, she could prove to the world that she was not unwanted.

 Chapter 400 - Cadria

    Chapter 400 - Cadria


    The northern brigade spent the better part of three weeks working its way through Crimson Rock. The dungeon proved every bit as challenging as its reputation suggested¡ªthere were at least five near deaths, where Sylvia¡¯s projections had to jump in to provide emergency shielding and healing¡ªbut it certainly paid off in kind. The party gained levels by the fistful. Chloe nearly reached the threshold for her third ascension, Jules found himself staring down the 850 wall, and Krail was hardly 10 steps behind. Lana and Arciel had benefited similarly, and though she hated every part of the experience, Claire was in much the same boat. She had gained enough levels from her repeated dives that she was more or less satisfied with the outcome.


    Her attempts at soliciting divine aid, however, proved much less successful. Kryddar saw little variety when it came to holy grounds. Rikael, the sun goddess, effectively monopolized the citizens¡¯ attention. Vella and Tzaarkus had a few temples scattered about as well, but that seemed more a function of proximity than it did the locals¡¯ beliefs. After all, it was only near the borders where they could easily be found.


    The accompanying domains saw a fair bit of intermingling. Even during the times where the countries had been hostile, cottontails, moths, and centaurs were easily found on both sides of the national line.


    Said line sat right in front of them, marked by a government checkpoint smack in the middle of the road. The double-gated structure stood tall, with its highest point at a little over twenty meters to accommodate any visiting giants and the cargo they towed. Their width was even greater, with each of the two lanes wide enough for a regiment of cavalry to march straight through. Though, that particular dimension resulted primarily from the Cadrian standard. All of the roads had widened as they approached the northern land¡ªan increase directly proportional to the rise in the number of moose.


    There were soldiers on both sides of the gate, with each nation¡¯s troops carefully watching the entrances to their homelands. But while their gazes came with utmost scrutiny, they refrained from any explicit interference. They simply stared at those who came and went without so much as bothering to examine their cargo. Still, Claire checked her disguise before they reached the gate.


    Her tiny qiligon form certainly rendered her unrecognizable, but deciding that it was better to leave an explicit trail, she had returned to a humanoid shape ever since they left Crimson Rock. Her clothing was likewise transformed into a full suit of armour, including a helmet that fully obscured her face.


    The metal plates themselves were as white as her scales, half because of the way it matched her hair, and half so she would blend into the surroundings when they eventually set out for the Langgbjerns. They would likely be climbing them in the midst of winter, though if her view from atop the manor was anything to go by, they were frosted over all year round.


    Log Entry 871008


    You have completed the ¡°Walk the Path¡± quest.


    You have received a blessing from the Goddess of Order.


    The message came as soon as they passed the border. For the most part, Claire was unaffected. She listened lethargically, without a care in the world, until she suddenly couldn¡¯t.


    Her body began moving on its own. Her arms and legs flailed, and her tail ran rampant within the carriage. There were a series of twists and cracks even though her bones were unbreakable, sounds which shouldn¡¯t, couldn¡¯t have been. The strange motions were accompanied by a wave of pain, but it was only for a moment that her whole body burned.


    It didn¡¯t take long for the spontaneous agony to give way to respite. If anything, the pain was lessened, further reduced and mitigated beyond its previous low. She wasn¡¯t quite as comfortable as she was in her qiligon form, but it was only by the slimmest of margins.


    Your magic circuits have been rearranged in an optimal configuration. All mana costs have been reduced and all defensive spells have been strengthened. Additionally your magical throughput has increased from 0.38 to 4.95 percent of its maximum value. You may query the percentage of this bonus and thus the extent of your recovery at any time by praying to the goddess of order.


    It was not a minor boon like the one she had received from Ira, nor a burden in disguise like the ones she had received from Alfred, Tzaarkus and Flux. Nay, like the gift that Builledracht had given, it was a true, bonafide blessing.


    Claire silently thanked the goddess before craning her neck around the carriage. There was a fox on her head and a lizard in her lap, but somehow, no one seemed to have noticed the seizure. She didn¡¯t quite understand the rationale, but shrugging it off, Claire leaned back into her seat and enjoyed the ride as the wagon slowly chugged its way through the Pollux march.


    Though its capital city had been destroyed, the southernmost province was exactly as she remembered it. The boring, forested path, the fire-breathing vultures flying overhead, and the frequent patrols that safeguarded the roads, all of it was as familiar as the back of her hand. She couldn¡¯t quite put names to all of the shrubs that lined the forest floor, but she knew that the green berries were Cloelius berries, named for the person who had accidentally discovered their explosive, laxative properties. Likewise, the round, blue fungi that budded from the fallen tree trunks were bleedshrooms, and though they smelled awful when picked¡ªbad enough to make a grown man bleed from every orifice¡ªthey were fairly delicious when served in a stew.


    Equally as nostalgic were the caravans speeding along the road. The merchants ported their goods in all manner of transports. The turberus, horse, and monster-drawn carriages were paired alongside magical constructs that served both functions at once. Made by the province¡¯s once-prized artificers, the modified cabins walked with their own two, four, or however many legs. The precise count was determined entirely by the particular carriage¡¯s designer, with the primary differences lying in maintainability and relative magical efficiency.


    Carriages with more legs had higher upfront and recurring costs, courtesy of the finesse required in their making and maintenance, but they also required less magic to operate. That particular concern, however, was only valid in a few of the nation¡¯s many provinces. The Pollux march, like most of the domains spread throughout the nation, was blessed with bountiful ambient magic courtesy of the ley lines that ran beneath it. A merchant could easily operate a magical device without a battery or generator so long as the right routes were followed. Forgoing the extra machinery reduced the number of potential customers, but the parts in question were expensive enough that many found the tradeoff worthwhile.


    The money-grubbers were a common sight, even on an ordinary, country road. Out in the boonies, one could expect to pass a small handful each hour. But on one of the three highways that connected Cadria to its most friendly neighbour, the party found them in an almost absurd abundance. Thanks to the late Pollux¡¯s efforts, the southern province functioned as a bastion of international trade. Merchants came from all over to exchange their wares for Cadrian goods.


    Like the businessmen, the brigade followed the road to its final destination. And within the day, they found themselves staring down a major city. Estau, as it was known, was on the higher tech end. Even from a distance, one could easily see the smoke pouring from its chimneys as well as all of the accompanying rust and iron.


    ¡°Are we stopping here for the night, or are we skipping ahead?¡± asked Krail, from the driver¡¯s seat.


    ¡°Think we¡¯re probably best off camping out if we¡¯re planning to stay incognito. Anyone can tell at a glance that we aren¡¯t like any of the other groups. They¡¯ll probably pick us out in a heartbeat if we stop in town.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be more suspicious on the road,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°And whyever is that?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°The roads always have soldiers patrolling them. They¡¯re more likely to catch on than the townsfolk.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but we¡¯re gonna run into soldiers either way, aren¡¯t we?¡± said the clam. ¡°You know, since they¡¯ll inspect us at the gates or whatever.¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°They won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Are we not only an hour from the border?¡± Arciel cocked her brow. ¡°Surely the security shall prove itself strict?¡±


    ¡°In Pollux, the guards only fight off monsters. Anyone else can enter.¡±


    ¡°How bizarre,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I fail to see the logic. Does this behaviour not simply enable criminal activity?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± she said, with a yawn. ¡°You¡¯ll understand soon enough.¡±


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°I find that rather difficult to believe,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Are you certain they shan¡¯t stop us?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Surely enough, the party passed through the gates unharassed. Like just about everyone else that the guards failed to recognize, they were allowed through without so much as a greeting.


    Estau wasn¡¯t anywhere near as industrious as the former City of Progress, and neither were the people quite as hardworking. Still, it was home to many brilliant minds. Some had been rejected by the competitive insanity that was Tornatus, while others were simply sick of the accompanying pressure. Whatever the case, the atmosphere was much more relaxed. The people who walked around the city did so lazily, and the carts that moved along the streets were slow enough to match the pedestrians.


    It wasn¡¯t like the city was dreary. There was still plenty of noise and life, but it was heavily toned down, taken at a slower, more peaceful pace. Still, despite its chronic laziness and its atelier-laden landscape, it was every bit a normal Cadrian metropolis¡ªthere was a colosseum standing smack in the middle of town and a military base along the outskirts.


    The accompanying officers could be seen wandering around the city, half for leisure, half to patrol the streets. Though some communities put together a watch, the nation was effectively without a police force; vigilantes saw criminals as an excuse to polish their skills and citizens often fought back whenever they felt like their treatment was unjust. That wasn¡¯t to say that everyone was a warrior per se, but many of those who lived in Cadria dabbled in the martial arts at least. And if they weren¡¯t up to snuff themselves, they would find a representative and demand a duel to compensate for any wrongs and losses resulting from misbehaviour.


    One such duel took place in the streets while the carriage slowly wheeled by. A tiny cottontail was punching the ever-loving shit out of a reverse centaur while a crowd gathered around and cheered on. The brigade¡¯s members were curious, of course, but though they peered over their shoulders, they refrained from staring for long. The less attention they attracted, the better. That was especially in the Pollux march, where the grudges still ran rampant courtesy of the sky¡¯s descent.


    They headed straight for one of the inns located near the city¡¯s northern border¡ªthe military base was to the south, and the consensus was that it would be best to avoid it. There were quite a few of them around. Some were clearly meant for the upper crust, with fancy stone pillars decorating the exteriors and beautiful fabrics glimmering through the windows. Others were pest-friendly to say the least. And that was about the extent of the differences between the individual establishments. Though the nation was clearly one that catered to multiple races, the guest houses refused to differentiate themselves by size.


    Entering their inn of choice¡ªa back alley establishment that leaned on the cheaper side of average¡ªsufficed to reveal the reason. Even just looking up the stairs, one could immediately discern that not all the rooms were of quite the same size. There were doors that stood at five meters tall, meant for the largest centaur variants, as well as those that stood at a quarter the height. They were arranged along the walls like the pieces of a puzzle; the cottontail-oriented spaces were built to fit right into the small gaps introduced by their larger counterparts.


    ¡°Hello,¡± said Chloe, as she approached the counter. ¡°Do you have any rooms available? We¡¯re looking for two larger ones, as well as a place to park our wagon.¡±


    ¡°Larger ones?¡± The innkeeper, an old centaur with far too much meat on her bones, looked over the maid¡¯s shoulder and scanned the crowd behind her. ¡°Do you need individual beds, or would you be fine sharing a few centaur-sized mattresses?¡±


    ¡°We should be fine to share,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°Alright. We can probably fit you in two double rooms. There should be a few spare stable slots at the end of the barn, so you can just throw your carriage and your animals back there. You¡¯ll have to take care of them on your own though. Stablehand is out sick.¡±


    ¡°That should be fine,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°Alright, one night¡¯ll be five and a half daggers.¡±


    ¡°Daggers?¡± Chloe blinked. ¡°You mean like these?¡± She produced a pair of glimmering knives from under her skirt.


    ¡°Foreign currency is fine too,¡± said the innkeeper, with a sigh. ¡°We¡¯ve got the thingamabob.¡±


    ¡°Does Skarnian work?¡±


    ¡°Guessing this is your first time in Cadria?¡±


    Chloe nodded.


    ¡°Most places will take pretty much any sort of gold or silver as long as they¡¯ve got one of these.¡± She pulled a metallic square out from under the counter and set it down between them. The artifact was roughly the size of a plate, with glimmering blue lines running throughout its brass and silver frame. ¡°These¡¯ll convert your coins back to the metals they¡¯re made of. We¡¯ll trade off that, with an extra ten percent slapped on to cover the cost of conversion.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± said Chloe. She fished a few silver pieces from her wallet and placed them on the device. It whirred to life when the innkeeper tapped the button on its side, its glow intensifying with each moment that passed. The coins on top of it began splitting apart like a slime mid-multiplication, dividing first into two parts of completely different colours, and then a number of much smaller pieces each the same size as the next.


    The innkeeper grabbed most of the resulting silver and a few of the copper bits before returning the rest.


    ¡°That should cover it,¡± she said.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± said Chloe. She glanced behind her as she pocketed the change. The armoured figure standing behind her hadn¡¯t reacted at all, but it was impossible to say if that was because she was confident in the result or simply not paying attention. Asking was the only way to say for certain, but it wasn¡¯t like she could do that right in front of the innkeeper¡¯s face.


    ¡°Here are your keys.¡± The lady at the desk produced a pair of stones with a set of sigils carved into their faces. ¡°You¡¯ll be on the third floor, at the far end of the hall. Just look for the matching runes. Would you like your food prepared immediately? It¡¯ll be about thirty minutes from whenever you ask for it.¡±


    ¡°Yes please, thank you,¡± said the maid.


    The innkeeper nodded and pointed at the door on her left. ¡°The dining room is just over there. You can sit anywhere that¡¯s free. The staff¡¯ll see that your stuff is sorted.¡±


    And with that, the party was off to the races. They moved the carriage out back and fed the turberi before shuffling their way upstairs and inspecting the rooms that they had been allotted. Though on the larger side, they were fairly plain, as one could readily infer from the accompanying price tag. The beds seemed too big if anything. The girls at least could have easily fit on one, and the innkeeper had apparently brought extra blankets to accommodate the headcount while they were tending to the packturtles.


    With the chore out of the way, they set their things down, made use of their restrooms, and otherwise stretched their bodies before they descended to partake in their meal.


    Like the rooms, the tables came primarily in the larger centaurian and smaller cottontail sizes. The party wound up in one of the former. As most centaurs sat on cushions placed directly on the floor, the smaller Vel¡¯khanese natives found themselves at just the right height atop a set of seats meant for elves and lamia.


    Food and drink was served almost as soon as they sat down. A young centaurian foal, maybe only seven or eight, based on his two-meter height, walked out of the kitchen and plopped their portions down on the table. Each member was presented with a full plate of bush meat stewed with local vegetables as well as a side of bread and hay toasted to a rich golden brown.


    The party began to dig in immediately, with some of its members asking for drinks, when the door to the dining hall swung open.


    That, in and of itself, was hardly out of the ordinary. The accompanying individual would certainly have escaped the party¡¯s notice had the dining hall not suddenly gone silent. All the guests and staff immediately turned their eyes on the cottontail standing in the doorway.


    She was the tiniest little thing. Standing at only half a meter tall, the lanky child was practically the size of a dog. Her fur was a mix of black and what was most likely white. It was difficult to say for certain given the sheer amount of soot that covered her body. She was wearing an equally dusty dress, though it probably would have been more accurate to describe it as a misplaced rag, alongside several rusted artifacts clearly out of maintenance.


    No one seemed to say much, but more than half the gazes on the child were hostile. The locals in particular checked their wallets and pulled their plates closer to their chests.


    The girl, for the most part, wandered around the room, her stomach growling and her eyes devoid of hope.


    ¡°I-is there anyone that wouldn¡¯t mind parting with their leftovers?¡± she asked, quietly. ¡°Anything will do. Even just a tiny piece of bread.¡± She lowered her hand to her stomach while her ears flopped forward. As if on cue, her stomach growled, a poor, sad sound that echoed throughout the room.


    ¡°No. Now get the hell out of here,¡± said one of the centaurian guests. He was an older man with a hairless head and a half-greyed beard. ¡°How many times do we have to fucking tell you before you learn?¡±


    The girl lowered her ears even further. From the way she slumped her shoulders and bit her lips, it almost seemed like she had expected the answer.


    ¡°Alright, now hold the fuck on,¡± said Jules. He got up from his chair and inserted himself between the child and the horse-man. ¡°The fuck do you think you¡¯re doing? She¡¯s just some poor fucking kid.¡±


    ¡°I-it¡¯s okay,¡± said the girl. She started to move towards the door, but Jules grabbed her by the back of the neck.


    ¡°You stay the fuck put and shut the hell up,¡± he said. ¡°Wait here until I¡¯m done with this dumbass or I¡¯ll kick your ass.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shut up, tourist,¡± said the centaur. ¡°You stay out of this. This isn¡¯t any of your business.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well your dumb ass just fucking made it my business.¡±


    The centaur got up from his seat with a sigh. ¡°Alright, fine. We¡¯ll go outside and settle this the old fashioned way. But just so you know, getting your teeth kicked in isn¡¯t worth it for a Tornatus brat like her.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? How about you try telling me that again after I kick your ass?¡±


    With the rest of the rubbernecking guests following right behind them, the party included in the number, the two combatants made their way outside with their fists clenched.


    Truly, Cadria in a nutshell.


    The punches started flying as soon as they took their places.


    And though he didn¡¯t use any magic, Jules eventually beat down the random civilian and emerged victorious to a cheering crowd.

 Chapter 401 - Cadria II

    Chapter 401 - Cadria II


    The foreigners returned to the table as soon as the duel was over. The people of Estau, likewise, filed back to their seats with their moods improved and their purse strings loosened. They ordered plenty of ale, both for themselves and the victorious fighter.


    Of course, not all of the locals were quite so jovial. Some still looked upon the girl with scorn, but perhaps because their representative had already fallen, they couldn¡¯t be bothered to speak up.


    For Mirta, it was but a moment of temporary relief. She knew that all would go back to normal whenever the foreigners left town. She would be scorned and ignored. The simple act of asking for something that its owner otherwise found unwanted would result in a wave of abuse. It certainly wasn¡¯t pleasant, but Mirta had long grown numb to it all. The only way to assert her will, to force them to look upon her with respect, was to prove herself in battle. And as a poor orphan with no decent equipment and a pair of spindly arms, she had no hope of seeing it done.


    That was simply the way that things were. Ironically, it was always the outsiders that treated her best.


    ¡°Here, catch.¡±


    Still, it came as a surprise when the strange, shelled man tossed her a massive helping of bread. She fumbled the loaf, nearly dropping it three times before it somehow settled in her hands. She wasn¡¯t really sure how it happened. It had looked like it had slipped out of her fingers, but somehow, she managed to keep it from falling. Even more confusing was the way that he slid his stew across the table. As with the bread toss, it was a careless motion. Still, the stew refused to spill, no matter how ready it looked to go over the edge.


    She wasn¡¯t foolish enough to think that it was charity. Even travellers wanted something from her. Many of the other orphans had told her to be careful, that they had tricked and hurt, thanks to the ridiculous demands that followed their supposed free meals. That was why she didn¡¯t dare dig in immediately. She looked between the food and its provider, cautious even as she caught the spoon that he tossed her way. If she was lucky, he would be one of the ones that just wanted to see an exaggerated display of gratitude.


    ¡°Hurry up and fucking eat before I change my mind, you little shit.¡±


    The harsh tone only magnified her caution. Trembling, Mirta was about to put down the so-called gifts and back away when another one of the group¡¯s members stepped between them.


    ¡°Stop that, Jules. You¡¯re scaring her.¡±


    The woman with the oddly calming voice was probably an elf, like the older man on the other side of the table. It was hard to tell because her ears were hidden beneath a layer of thick, golden locks.


    ¡°Not my problem,¡± said the man named Jules. He lifted a mug to his face and downed its contents in a single breath.


    ¡°I doubt you actually believe that.¡± Sighing, the lady crouched down so her eyes were level with Mirta¡¯s and put on a smile. It was clearly forced, but the tiny cottontail appreciated the gesture nonetheless. She didn¡¯t expect any genuine smiles from anyone anyway. ¡°Sorry about that idiot. What he¡¯s really trying to say is that you don¡¯t need to hesitate. The bowl¡¯s all yours.¡±


    ¡°Bitch, when the fuck did I say any of that!?¡±


    The lady forcefully closed the shelled man¡¯s lid and sat on top of it. ¡°You see? He just has a potty mouth because he was abused as a child.¡±


    ¡°I was not!¡± shouted Jules.


    ¡°Just ignore him,¡± said the blonde lady.


    ¡°T-thank you.¡± Mirta remained hesitant, but she opened her mouth and slowly brought the food to her lips. She looked between the meal and the foreigners, carefully observing their expressions before she finally gave it a swallow. The second bite was a little faster, and the third even more so. By the fourth, she was practically inhaling her meal. She was starving, the bread was fresh, and the stew was even better. It must have been at least a week since she had any that wasn¡¯t already half eaten.


    She didn¡¯t look up again until she finished scarfing it down. She was full, bloated even. The portion had been centaur sized, and it was a little too much for her to have eaten all at once.


    By the time she turned her eyes back on them, the lady, the man, and their friends had already returned to their previous positions. A brief scan of the table seemed to reveal a series of kind gazes. It was a little hard to tell, but the only ones that didn¡¯t seem to care were their pets. She couldn¡¯t really read the knight either, but at the very least, he didn¡¯t seem hostile.


    When she turned back to the shelled man, she found him with his elbows on the table and his face in his hands. ¡°So? What¡¯s your deal?¡±


    Mirta gulped. She practically jumped out of her skin when their eyes met, but she managed to squeeze out her voice after a few silent attempts. ¡°I-I don¡¯t have anywhere to go.¡±


    ¡°What happened to your parents?¡±


    The tiny rabbit lowered her gaze. ¡°They¡¯re dead.¡±


    Jules clicked his tongue. ¡°Sucks, but shouldn¡¯t mean you should be out on the streets. Does Cadria not have any orphanages or something?¡±


    ¡°T-there¡¯s one in town, but it¡¯s full.¡±


    ¡°The fuck do you mean it¡¯s full?¡± He pushed himself out of his seat. ¡°Full my ass. I bet these greedy fucks are just keeping all the goddamn money for themselves.¡±


    He stood up and made for the door, but Mirta ran after him, grabbed him by the sleeve, and shook her head from side to side. ¡°T-they¡¯d never do that. T-they¡¯re good people.¡±


    She didn¡¯t know what he was planning to do, exactly, but she didn¡¯t want to bring them trouble. She was the one who had left on her own, and any trouble they had would only make it harder for them to take care of the other kids.


    Jules turned around and met her eyes again. His stare was unnerving, piercing and red, but Mirta stayed steady for long enough that he seemed to calm down.


    ¡°My bad.¡± Raising both his arms in defeat, he dragged himself back to the table and into his seat.


    ¡°I-it¡¯s okay,¡± said Mirta. She tried to smile, but she wasn¡¯t really sure if it came out right. ¡°T-thanks for the meal. I¡¯m going to be on my way now.¡± She tried to leave immediately, setting her sights on the door again.


    But the man had other plans.


    ¡°Not yet, you aren¡¯t.¡± He grabbed her by the shoulder. ¡°Not till you pay me back.¡±


    Mirta froze. She could feel her heart sinking as she turned back around. He had seemed kind, but evidently, a free meal was too much to ask for. She should¡¯ve known better. But at the same time, she didn¡¯t understand why a man in a party with so many women would want to openly take advantage of a scrawny little thing like her.


    Her eyes watery, she met his gaze and gulped. There was no point in stalling. If she was going to become his plaything, then so be it. At least she would likely be fed more often. ¡°H-how do you want me to pay you back?¡±


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°He¡¯s going to ask you to do something naughty,¡± said the elf girl. She winked, only to be struck in the back of the head with an expensive-looking fan.


    ¡°That is enough, Chloe,¡± said the girl with the big hat. ¡°I would rather you refrained from suggesting something so vulgar.¡± Her race was also difficult to distinguish. She almost looked human, but her words suggested that she was anything but.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± said the girl named Chloe, with an unapologetic smile. Perhaps she was the one that was human? It was hard to say without seeing her ears.


    ¡°Yeah, so ignoring that pervert,¡± Jules sat back in his chair, ¡°How about you tell me a meal¡¯s worth of stories?¡±


    ¡°S-stories?¡± Mirta blinked. It wasn¡¯t what she expected. The tension almost drained from her body, only to return again as she realised that none of her problems were solved. ¡°I-I don¡¯t really know any decent stories.¡± She nervously looked around the table, but thankfully, none of the gazes turned hostile.


    ¡°Then tell me how you got here and we can call it even.¡±


    Mirta blinked. ¡°A-are you sure that¡¯s enough?¡±


    ¡°As long as you stop fucking dawdling,¡± he said. Perhaps he was kind after all.


    ¡°O-okay.¡± The rabbit took a few breaths. ¡°My parents used to run a small atelier in town,¡± she said, quietly. ¡°I used to work the front desk, and we were always doing pretty okay. But then they went to Tornatus for a conference with some of the other artificers. They were supposed to come back after a week.¡± It felt like her breath was stuck in her throat, but she managed to squeeze the words out regardless. ¡°But then the sky fell.¡±


    ¡°...That¡¯s some bad luck right there,¡± said the shelled man.


    A wave of awkwardness spread through the table. It didn¡¯t click for everyone at quite the same time. Sylvia, for one, had to look around the table twice before she recalled the act in which she had taken part. But Claire had caught on as soon as the girl had named her parents¡¯ profession. She knew it wasn¡¯t a lie. She could tell from the sound of the rabbit¡¯s heart, the uncontrolled trembling in her voice, and the look in her eyes, that the testimony was valid.


    It was her fault.


    It wasn¡¯t like such a situation came as a bolt from the blue. She had always understood the ramifications of her ludicrous tantrum, but she was numb to the aftermath, ready to put it behind her. And yet, there was an awful taste in her mouth. Something weighed down on her shoulders, refusing to leave her alone, even as she pushed back against it with her vectors. She felt like averting her eyes, turning away from the truth so it would not be discovered, even though she had long committed to facing it.


    There was another part of her that wanted to blurt it out loud¡ªto admit that it was her fault and relieve herself of half the burden. She fought it back, of course, but it continued to swim around in the back of her head, right alongside the urge to dig a hole and crawl inside.


    ¡°Is that why the orphanage is full?¡± asked Jules.


    The rabbit nodded.


    ¡°Still doesn¡¯t really explain why the townsfolk are treating you like shit,¡± he said, as he scanned the room again.


    ¡°Because it¡¯s our fault the sky fell,¡± said the girl, quietly.


    ¡°That¡¯s bullshit and you know it,¡± said Jules, as he scratched the back of his head. ¡°All the shit that happened in Tornatus was political. Ain¡¯t no fucking kid¡¯s fault.¡± He leaned a little closer and lowered his voice. ¡°Here tell you what, you little shit. Take this.¡± He slid a pouch into her hands after scanning the room to ensure that no one was watching. ¡°Dunno how much it¡¯ll stand for, but if you use it carefully, it might do enough to get your back on your feet.¡±


    The girl looked between the man and the pouch, wide-eyed.


    ¡°Now shoo. Hurry up and get the hell outta here,¡± he said, waving his hand.


    ¡°T-thank you. I promise I¡¯ll pay you back one day.¡± Gulping, she hid the pouch in her shirt and started towards the door.


    Jules, in the meantime, leaned back into his seat and raised his drink to his lips. Had he any legs, he surely would have thrown them on the table. He sipped at the wine as he watched her leave before finally speaking under his breath. ¡°Shit, huh?¡±


    ¡°It happens,¡± said Lana. ¡°It¡¯s war.¡±


    ¡°I have to say, you handled that quite well, much better than I would¡¯ve expected.¡± Krail, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the encounter, smiled softly as he passed his bread to the clam. ¡°You¡¯re much more benevolent than I gave you credit for.¡±


    ¡°Dunno about that one,¡± said Jules. ¡°I was just doing it for my ego¡¯s sake anyway.¡± He glanced at Claire. ¡°And hers.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± Jules threw up his arms. ¡°Anyway, bit late to be asking, but you sure you¡¯re down to do this?¡± His eyes were locked on Claire¡¯s armoured form, and his voice was low enough that only she could hear it loud and clear. ¡°I dunno if you¡¯ve noticed, but that usual facade of yours has gone straight out the window.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± She closed her eyes and settled back into her seat. Cowardice was not an option, nor even a path to atonement. And yet, it still plagued her. The look on the tiny cottontail¡¯s face. Her obvious, easily legible emotions. All because she saw a glimpse of her shadow in one of her victims.


    Still, she was able to push her irritation from her mind, return to her room, and fall right asleep. She had practically forgotten about the whole event by morning, albeit more by intention than accident.


    She was confident she would have gone the whole day without recalling it had the innkeeper not run up the stairs with the sun¡¯s rising. Claire tried to furl in her ears when she awoke to the noise, but no amount of physical interference could stop her from overhearing the panicked knocks hammered against the men¡¯s door.


    There were at least three dozen knocks before any of the men finally awakened, and another ten or so before they crawled their way to the entrance.


    ¡°What the fuck is with all this noise?¡± grumbled Jules.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for all of the noise but it¡¯s an emergency,¡± said the innkeeper, as quickly as she could. ¡±I know this might sound like a bit of a strange question, but this is really important. How much money did you give Mirta?¡±


    ¡°Who the fuck is Mirta?¡±


    ¡°The little girl who came to the restaurant last night.¡±


    ¡°Oh, her?¡± Jules¡¯ tone was lowered to a growl. ¡°I didn¡¯t give her any money. I just fed her and called it a day.¡±


    ¡°I know I probably sound really suspicious right now, but please trust me. Was it around a pound of gold?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t give her jack, lady. Fuck off already.¡±


    ¡°This morning, she donated half a pound of gold to the orphanage before running off, and no one¡¯s seen her since.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean shit,¡± said the clam. Claire could practically hear his smirk.


    ¡°A half-decent spear costs about half a pound. She probably bought one and headed off into the forest.¡± The innkeeper, on the other hand, was grim. Her voice was trembling, barely audible.


    ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°Half the monsters in the forest are over level five hundred.¡±


    ¡°Is she fucking stupid?¡± Jules groaned. There was an audible smack, no doubt because he had smacked a palm into his forehead. ¡°Claire! I know you¡¯re awake! Get the fuck out here!¡±


    Claire paused briefly before deciding to abide by his request. Slithering up to the mirror, she assumed her humanoid form and turned her accessories into the usual armour. She gave herself a brief inspection, checking to ensure that there weren¡¯t any inconsistencies in her appearance before walking out the door.


    ¡°I¡¯ll head out too, but can you fly ahead and check for the little shit? You know, since you¡¯re faster.¡±


    Though less than inclined to follow his orders, Claire slowly nodded and made for the window. She hadn¡¯t the faintest clue as to where the child had gone, but engaging her catgirl affinity skill, much to her annoyance, produced a set of tracks. She wasn¡¯t exactly keen on letting the clam off scot-free, so she dragged him along with a set of vectors as she flew through the sky.


    But even without her guidance, he likely would have arrived at the scene.


    There was a huge surge of magic as they neared their destination. The trees parted like a line of ants, revealing a massive, fresh clearing with two rabbits staring down a trio of fire-breathing, camel-like beasts.


    One was the girl they were looking for, covered from head to toe in half-broken artifacts with a sword between her fingers, while the other stood in front of her, staff raised and glowing.


    A third of a second later, and the beasts were felled. Roots sprang from beneath the ground and tore straight through their bodies, tearing them to bits.


    The taller rabbit, who stood at a height of about a meter, didn¡¯t let her guard down immediately. She scanned her surroundings to affirm that there was no more prey afoot before turning her eyes on the pair in the sky.


    Her face was obscured by her oversized hat. But Clarie knew her nonetheless.


    And though she was far enough away to remain a blur, though her features were hidden, Claire could tell from the way the caster had moved her lips.


    She had called her name.

 Chapter 402 - Cadria III

    Chapter 402 - Cadria III


    The first thought that passed through Claire¡¯s mind was one of immediate escape. She wanted to flap her wings and fly away, but she knew that it was impossible. The mage¡¯s¡ªAllegra¡¯s¡ªvines would reach as high as the sky, and the winds she commanded assured a fruitful chase. She needed to skip right past the city, the country, and perhaps even the next. But even then, it would likely prove a fool¡¯s errand. She would go down the moment Allegra grew annoyed enough to open fire, and the rabbit wasn¡¯t exactly known for her patience.


    In the first place, there was no need for her to run. Allegra was no longer associated with her father, nor even really the government¡¯s affairs. For all intents and purposes, she may as well have retired. Claire remained hesitant to descend regardless, but having been called out by name already, she bit her lips and resigned herself to her fate.


    She continued to frown throughout her descent, no doubt in part thanks to the change in Jules¡¯ demeanour. He stared appalled, his mouth flapping open and closed as he looked over the grand magus¡¯ spell. It was still active; Allegra still held control over all the flora in the area in much the same way as an ascended wood elf. If anything, her implementation was superior; she was known for wresting control away from anyone who tried to assault her with the racial trait.


    ¡°You¡¯re the people from yesterday.¡± Mirta, the rabbit girl, opened her eyes wide as Claire and Jules touched down.


    ¡°We heard you were getting up to something dumb,¡± said Jules. ¡°But it looks like we weren¡¯t actually needed.¡±


    The orphan clenched her fists and cast her eyes downward. ¡°I was doing the only thing I could.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit,¡± said Jules. ¡°You were just throwing your damn life away. If it wasn¡¯t for her,¡± he pointed at Allegra, ¡°you¡¯d be dog food.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I know.¡± Mirta dug her buck teeth into her lips. ¡°But it¡¯s not like I have any other choice. If I don¡¯t get any stronger, the¡ª¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean you jump into a bunch of shit like this,¡± said the clam. ¡°Look, there¡¯s a w¡ª¡±


    Claire flicked him in the side of the face, with the blow carrying enough force to completely distort his flesh. ¡°Take her back to town.¡±


    ¡°The fuck!? Why don¡¯t you do it? You¡¯re the one that can fucking fly! And why the hell did you fucking hit me if you wanted to ask me for something!?¡±


    ¡°I have some business to attend to,¡± said Claire. Her eyes were on her old tutor.


    The clam cocked a brow. He took a moment to look between the two before defeatedly shaking his head. ¡°Alright, fine, whatever,¡± he said. ¡°You want me to tell the others you¡¯re out?¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t be long.¡±


    The clam twisted his lips into a grimace. ¡°Fucking Cadrians. Stupid ass warmongering idiots.¡± He left the pair with a sigh and a wave. ¡°Don¡¯t blame me if you get your dumb ass killed. Doesn¡¯t take a genius to figure that she¡¯s completely out of your league.¡±


    Claire shot him a glare and waited until he was far out of earshot before finally turning back to the woman who was once her godmother and teacher. And perhaps still, she was one of those things.


    But even then, both parties remained silent.


    It was surprisingly hard to find the right words. And perhaps that was why they began without them.


    Allegra slowly walked forward. A large vine rose from the ground and elevated her to eye level, or at least close enough for the rabbit to lay her paws on the snake-moose¡¯s helm. Claire was a little reluctant to let her remove it, but after scanning their surroundings again and pulling the trees a little closer with her vectors, she did away with her armour and turned it into her usual outerwear.


    At that, the rabbit smiled, frowned, and grimaced. A dozen different emotions crossed her face in the span of a few short seconds.


    Claire, on the other hand, remained perfectly stoic. She maintained her mask, even as her tutor¡¯s fur was dampened by her tears.


    ¡°You¡¯ve grown so much,¡± said Allegra.


    ¡°It¡¯s been two years.¡±


    ¡°It really has.¡± Allegra threw her arms around the lyrkress¡¯ shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡±


    Claire raised her arms, and after a moment¡¯s hesitation, wrapped them around her tutor. ¡°It was father¡¯s fault.¡±


    Allegra shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m just as much to blame. I saw the signs. I should have known. But I wanted to trust him.¡±


    Claire nodded, slowly, before finally taking a breath. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°I was out gathering herbs.¡± Allegra chuckled after seeing the confused blink that crossed the lyrkress¡¯ face. ¡°I started an apothecary in my hometown after I resigned from my post,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t exactly have any disciples or servants to order around, so I¡¯ve no choice but to do it myself.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Claire paused. ¡°Is it really that close?¡±


    A hint of annoyance crossed the cottontail¡¯s face as she pulled back. ¡°Did you really pay that little attention during my lessons? I swear I¡¯ve taught you at least six years of geography.¡±


    ¡°They were boring.¡±


    Allegra sighed. ¡°They were not.¡±


    ¡°Yes they were.¡±


    ¡°You were just¡­ oh forget it.¡± The cottontail rolled her eyes. ¡°Why don¡¯t you stop by for some lunch? I¡¯d love to sit down and catch up.¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°Father¡¯s spies have likely identified me already.¡± Her helmet returned to its previous position. ¡°They¡¯ll try to take you in for treason.¡±


    ¡°They can try all they want.¡± The cottontail scoffed. ¡°They¡¯ll never break through my barriers.¡±


    ¡°And I need to get back to my companions.¡±


    ¡°Just bring them along. I don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°...Fine.¡±


    She knew better than to keep making excuses. Allegra was sure to have a counterpoint to each, and the rabbit had always been the type to overthink everything in the first place. She was well aware of what her actions entailed. Still, Claire had felt the need to ask. Perhaps it was for responsibilities sake, or perhaps it was because she simply still felt guilty, courtesy of the orphaned rabbit. Whatever the case, her godmother laughed it off and started off towards the town with a bit of a smile.


    ¡°What would you like to eat?¡±


    ¡°Whatever you have.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to have to buy a few ingredients either way if we¡¯re planning to throw a party. You can be honest.¡±


    Claire paused. ¡°Beef.¡±


    ¡°Okay, beef it is then. Anything else?¡±


    ¡°Not really. Beef was the only thing I missed.¡±


    ¡°Did they not have any cows down south?¡±


    ¡°They did. They weren¡¯t as tasty.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not surprised. Cadrian cattle are special,¡± said Allegra, with a smile. ¡°They adapted to the cold weather by growing extra layers of fa¡ª¡±


    ¡°Spare me the lecture,¡± said Claire. Shaking her head, she slowly followed the rabbit out of the forest and back onto the beaten path.


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    The road itself made for a straight shot to the city, but they deviated slightly every time the rabbit spotted an herb worth picking.


    It wasn¡¯t like Claire didn¡¯t understand. Allegra was simply trying to keep her apothecary as profitable as possible, and it was common for herbalists and the like to pick their own materials, especially when prices were high. Still, the behaviour was off putting. Allegra was one of the nation¡¯s most powerful fighters as well as an advisor that served the previous king directly. Her wages were no doubt as impressive as her titles. And yet, there she was, effectively picking scraps off the side of the road, as would a struggling child.


    The behaviour persisted even as they reached the gates. Allegra ignored the guards and nabbed the bright yellow flowers sitting beneath the wall before continuing into the city entirely unperturbed. Perhaps because they were accustomed to the behaviour, not even the guards reacted in any which way. They simply greeted her by name and returned to their posts, completely and utterly unfazed.


    The only curiosity that drew their gazes was the way she skipped and hummed. And if that wasn¡¯t enough to evidence her good mood, one could see it clearly from the way she occasionally stuck the flowers into her mouth over the basket she held by her side.


    ¡°Which inn are you holed up in?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember its name,¡± said Claire. She deployed her wings, flew a few meters into the air, and quickly inspected their surroundings. ¡°Turn right in two blocks. Then left again in three.¡±


    ¡°Two blocks would be Grant Street, and then another left is Ninth? That should be the Grapevine Inn.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t ask me.¡±


    Returning to the ground, she slowly followed her tutor through the streets. It was almost amazing how the people stepped out of her way. There was hardly a soul in town that failed to recognize her, and even the foreigners followed suit when they noticed the locals¡¯ behaviour. Compliments flew like leaves in the autumn wind; the people worshiped her for power and beauty in kind, though the latter claims were dubious at best.


    As her companion, Claire caught a similar number of gazes, but they rarely stuck for long. At most, people wondered what she was doing alongside the national hero before returning to singing her praises and thanking the gods for her presence, in spite of the fact that she had long abandoned her position.


    The old innkeeper was no different. She opened her eyes wide when the pair entered the building, nearly dropping the ledger that she had in hand before scrambling into position.


    ¡°A-Allegra!¡± she said. ¡°H-how can I help you?¡±


    Allegra smiled softly. ¡°I¡¯m just here for a brief chat with some old friends.¡± She lied almost as easily as her pupil. ¡°Please don¡¯t mind us. We¡¯ll all be out of your hair soon.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want us to prepare any refreshments?¡± she asked. ¡°My husband will need a second to get the kitchen going, but it shouldn¡¯t be too long.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate the offer, but we¡¯ll be fine,¡± said the cottontail.


    ¡°Alright. Just shout if you need anything and we¡¯ll be right over,¡± said the old horse lady.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Allegra forced a smile before spinning around. ¡°Which rooms are yours?¡±


    ¡°The ones upstairs.¡± Ignoring the jealous look that the innkeeper shot her way, Claire wandered up the stairs and threw open their door, only to find Jules sitting in front of the bathroom with his arms crossed in front of his chest.


    He lightly glanced her way when he walked over with one brow raised, perhaps due to her company, while her fox leapt across the room and straight into her chest.


    ¡°There you are! What the heck! I can¡¯t believe you went on your morning flight without me,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And who¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure that counts as the flight,¡± said Claire. ¡°And that¡¯s my tutor.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ the one that you said is really mean and is gonna be single forever?¡±


    ¡°Yup.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not mean, and I¡¯m not single!¡±


    Allegra drew the dagger that hung from her waist and pointed at its handle. To an outsider like Sylvia, it was likely without any meaning. But while most Cadrians would recognize a crested dagger as a means for a nobleman to ask for a woman¡¯s hand, even the rabbit¡¯s countrymen would have struggled to surmise its precise identity. Because she flew a different banner at war, it was only bluebloods and historians that would recognize it at a glance. After all, the crest inlaid into the dagger¡¯s handle belonged to a house whose blood had long expired.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been happily married for¡­¡± she paused briefly. ¡°972 years, 4 months, and 8 days.¡±


    ¡°And how long have you been a widow?¡± asked Claire.


    Allegra averted her eyes. ¡°...972 years, 4 months, and 8 days.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ Are you sure that¡¯s right? Isn¡¯t that what you just said?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Her ¡®husband¡¯ proposed to her with his dying breath,¡± said Claire. ¡°And she never even liked him.¡±


    ¡°I-I liked him enough to honour his final wish,¡± said the cottontail.


    ¡°You¡¯re only ¡®honouring his final wish¡¯ because it keeps other people from proposing.¡±


    Again, the rabbit avoided the judging gaze. She turned to the rest of the room¡¯s occupants with her lips twisted into a smile.


    ¡°Oh, right. Where are my manners? It¡¯s nice to meet all of you.¡± In the end, she chose to pretend that none of it had ever happened. ¡°I am Allegra Cedr, Awakened Runeblood Cottontail. I¡¯m Claire¡¯s tutor and godmother.¡± Ignoring the cold stare needling its way into the back of the skull, she greeted the brigade with a gentle smile.


    The rest of the party quickly ran through their introductions as well, with everyone but the non-present Krail¡ªhe was apparently taking a cold bath in the room next door¡ªlisting their names and races, as per the usual etiquette.


    ¡°It is a pleasure to meet a mage of such great renown,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Might I inquire as to the purpose of your visit?¡±


    ¡°I was hoping to invite all of you over for lunch,¡± said Allegra. ¡°And maybe discuss your future plans.¡± She took a breath. ¡°I might be able to be of some assistance.¡±


    ¡°Alright, now hold on just a fucking second,¡± said Jules. ¡°You¡¯re Cadrian, aren¡¯t you? How the hell do we know this whole thing isn¡¯t a trap?¡±


    Allegra tapped a foot against the floor whilst rapping her paw against her chin. ¡°Hmmm, that¡¯s a tough one,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯d probably be easier for you to accept if you understood the current political climate. So to start, Cadria has never quite been entirely unified. The nation has always lived by a warrior culture, but we¡¯ve also been divi¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stop it. No lecturing.¡± Claire wrapped her tail around the rabbit¡¯s face and cut the lecture short. ¡°Just trust her,¡± she said. ¡°I never want to hear another three hour rant about something entirely inconsequential ever again.¡±


    ¡°Are you certain it is wise to accept this invitation?¡± asked Ciel.


    Claire nodded. ¡°She wouldn¡¯t need to rely on cheap tricks to take us down.¡±


    ¡°I suppose not. I have heard the rumours, and gazing upon her in person, I must admit that I am beginning to believe them.¡± The vampire squid¡¯s eyes were fixed on the rabbit, or more specifically, the rabbit¡¯s glowing eyes.


    They pulsed with magic every time her heart was pushed to action. The very flow of her blood activated the circles burnt into her irises. Ciel was unable to decipher them, even with an extended look, but the one on the left seemed to affect her perception, while the one on the right was so intricate and complex that it was too small to parse. She could have easily dismissed them if they were native, a consequence of the rabbit¡¯s ascensions, but the neat nature of their construction suggested that they were not; Allegra was actively maintaining both in real time, even though one looked like it would need a full minute to cast.


    ¡°And if Claire has vouched for you, then I am happy to accept your invitation,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Let us gather our things and depart.¡±


    ¡°Hold on,¡± said Jules. ¡°I mean, sure, we can write off our trust issues and whatever if we want, but we¡¯ve still got another problem to solve.¡± He pointed at the bathroom. ¡°She¡¯s still getting cleaned up, but we¡¯re gonna have to figure out what we¡¯re gonna do with her.¡±


    ¡°We are?¡± Sylvia tilted her head.


    ¡°We¡¯re the ones who got her in this shit in the first place,¡± said Jules. ¡°It¡¯s only right we see it through.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm, I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯re the only one that got her into anything,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°The rest of us kinda just watched.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and I¡¯m one of you, aren¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­¡± Sylvia raised a paw to her chin. ¡°I guess?¡±


    ¡°...Did you really have to think about it?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s this problem, exactly?¡± asked Allegra.


    ¡°It¡¯s the kid you saved,¡± said Claire. She quickly summarized the previous night¡¯s events to her tutor before quickly going over everything that happened in the morning. It was a cut and dry explanation, listing only the key facts, but perhaps being used to it, the rabbit refrained from asking for details.


    All she did was look at Claire and frown.


    That was enough for the lyrkress to avert her eyes. She was responsible for almost every part of the problem.


    It wasn¡¯t just the attack on Tornatus. By eliminating the province¡¯s governor, she rattled the chain of command and put a temporary halt to the accompanying administrative work. Under normal circumstances, the orphanage¡¯s lack of space would never have been overlooked. If the town lacked the funds to cover an expansion project, the province surely would have stepped in to make up the difference and see that the necessary work was done.


    The transition that was Porcius¡¯ rise to power was already a rough patch where things got piled up. Too many of the important officials had been erased and any calls that he made went largely unrespected. When the new government finally stabilized, it was only to head to war; civil duties were overlooked in the name of the old lord¡¯s vengeance. But even that group was eliminated. Almost all of the people familiar with government work or otherwise trusty enough to be assigned to it were slain in a matter of months.


    The Pollux march was left in a horrid state of disrepair with nearly all of the social systems meant to support the common folk either mismanaged or in decline. The work to see it repaired ultimately ended up falling on the king, but it was only recently that he picked it up. There was still so much for him to go through that it would be some time before he wiped the backlog clean.


    ¡°I can provide her with some additional funding for now if she doesn¡¯t mind swearing off combat,¡± said Allegra, ¡°but the best way to see this problem addressed will be to stop by the capital and mention it there.¡±


    The truth was that, even if they ignored the problem, it would likely go away with time, but Allegra knew that, with Claire preventing her from explaining the government¡¯s workings in detail, the foreigners would likely prefer if there was an action to take.

 Chapter 403 - Cadria IV

    Chapter 403 - Cadria IV


    The journey from Estau to Sarnium was as quick as it was calm. The village was only two hours away on foot and less than half that by coach. In no time at all, the party passed through woods and entered the rural domain.


    In most other nations, the settlement likely would have found itself surrounded by wooden fences¡ªphysical deterrents to keep out the monsters that roamed the surrounding lands¡ªbut Cadria had few such barriers. Those of the magical variety were far more common; if a settlement was located along a strategic point, such as on elevated ground near the border, the government was almost sure to supply the necessary implements to see that it was defended. Even for villages plopped down at random, they were easily acquired, costing only about as much as the average community project.


    Allegra¡¯s hometown, however, lacked any such defensive functionality. The bright golden fields, though carefully portioned and arranged, were completely unrestricted. There wasn¡¯t a single protective measure anywhere to be seen. The only defensible area looked to be in the center of town, where one could find a small hub of storefronts neatly packed together.


    It was not as if the locals failed to understand the concept of obstruction¡ªwooden pickets gated many fields so the livestock would be barred from entry¡ªnor was it a matter of pride. Rather, it was precisely because they had lived for so long aside the northland¡¯s ravenous beasts that they knew a fence would serve no purpose.


    In the first place, the monsters were smart enough to avoid most populated areas. They understood that attacking a settlement would only earn retaliation and extermination in kind. But if one were hungry and desperate enough to make the attempt regardless, a flimsy wooden structure, even reinforced by mud and magic would hardly serve to impede its progress; a single swipe of the claws would suffice to see any such a barricade removed.


    It was precisely to compensate for the weakness that the town watch was thrown together. Its members would gather in the case of an attack and take down the rampaging beast as best they could. It was a risky endeavour. Most volunteers died within their first year of enlistment, but those who survived emerged as true battle-tested veterans, ready to join the nation¡¯s standing army.


    Of course, with Allegra present, Sarnium needed no watch, but a glance around the village revealed that its men continued to shoulder the role regardless. Their weapons were out in the open, laying against the sides of their barns and silos alongside their pitchforks and ploughs, for the people understood that relying on the strong was but a temporary measure. Without any might of their own, they would fall the moment she decided to move on. Such was a fate that had befallen many small settlements in the past, either because their guardians had gone to war, turned their coats, or wound up dead, and Sarnium was in no hurry to see history repeated.


    ¡°Make a right here,¡± said Allegra. ¡°It¡¯s the building on top of the hill.¡±


    ¡°How quaint,¡± said Arciel. ¡°With Cadria¡¯s technology so advanced, I expected your villages to look starkly different from our own.¡±


    ¡°Me too,¡± said Chloe. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure why. Not even the city was all that much different.¡±


    ¡°The city had a fair number of curious artifacts, like the lights, the barrier, and the thing that dispensed the bathwater, but this village doesn¡¯t seem to have much of anything at all,¡± said Krail. ¡°Is there maybe something buried in the soil at least?¡±


    ¡°Good observation,¡± said Allegra. She commanded some of the nearby wheat to part, revealing a large, metal disk around the size of a plate. It seemed to be planted in the ground, nestled into a small bump in the ground otherwise devoid of plantlife. ¡°That¡¯s one of the many rukhs we¡¯ve got set in the fields. They¡¯re pretty handy. They can¡¯t do any higher level terraforming, but they pul¡ª¡±


    ¡°Enough.¡± Claire clasped a hand over Allegra¡¯s mouth. ¡°No lectures. Bad rabbit.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve gotten awfully cheeky in the years I haven¡¯t seen you.¡± Allegra pouted as she pushed Claire¡¯s arm away.


    ¡°Mmmnnn, I dunno,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°She¡¯s kinda always been a bit cheeky.¡±


    ¡°The Claire that I knew was quiet and obedient,¡± said Allegra. ¡°Or at least she was in her older years.¡±


    Claire shrugged. ¡°The Claire you knew was terrified of her father¡¯s shadow.¡±


    ¡°And you aren¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°Not in the slightest.¡±


    ¡°Wait, was she really?¡± Sylvia looked between the tutor and her pupil. ¡°I¡¯ve seen her get a little spooked, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen her actually scared of something. She¡¯s always been super reckless.¡±


    Claire poked the fox¡¯s nose. ¡°I¡¯m not reckless.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh¡­¡±


    Allegra laughed. ¡°Well, Virillius¡¯ face probably ranks fifth among the scariest things to have ever existed, so I doubt much¡¯ll faze someone who''s gotten over it.¡±


    ¡°What are the others?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°Fully manifested false gods,¡± said Allegra.


    ¡°I certainly know them as a cause of great hassle, but are they truly so frightening?¡±


    The rabbit crossed her arms and crinkled her mage¡¯s robes as she solemnly nodded her head. ¡°You won¡¯t know it until you face one of the really bad ones.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe the ones my old companions and I faced were all too powerful, but I can certainly see how one with a little more divinity could come off as utterly terrifying,¡± said Krail. ¡°There was this one time, roughly seventy years ago, when we discovered the cult of the scrying lam¡ª¡±


    His words distorted as his tongue was violently yanked.


    ¡°No lectures,¡± said Claire. ¡°And no long stories that sound like lectures either.¡±


    ¡°I would really like it if you could at least let me talk occasionally,¡± said Krail. ¡°I swear you¡¯ve denied my last three attempts. It¡¯s one of the only things my old bones still have left to enj¡ª¡±


    Another yank.


    ¡°Too many words,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°How cruel,¡± said the elf, with a laugh.


    Allegra joined him in chuckling awkwardly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about her. She¡¯s never been the most agreeable,¡± she said. ¡°Oh, and you¡¯ll want to stop the carriage. This is the place.¡±


    She double-checked her bags before hopping out of the wagon and lazily stretching her legs. The door opened by itself in the meantime, revealing a bright, sunlit home with most of its features in a single room. To call it an open concept house was a bit of a stretch. It was far too small to be deserving of the label. The eponymous open area was barely five meters in each direction, no larger than the average villager¡¯s hut. Though for a cottontail, perhaps it was sizable enough to seem somewhat luxurious.


    ¡°Come in, make yourselves at home.¡± A wave of roots grew from her polished wooden floors and grabbed hold of her equipment. The lab gear was shifted out of the way, dragged down a flight of steps and into the witch¡¯s basement, while the accompanying fittings retreated back into the walls. A table grew from the floor instead, sprouting to life in the blink of an eye. It was accompanied by a full set of seats, each tuned perfectly to fit the party¡¯s members. There were even seats for Boris, Sylvia, and Starrgort around a smaller table nearby.


    ¡°Are you sure you aren¡¯t half elf?¡± asked Krail.


    Allegra laughed. ¡°I¡¯m a cottontail, through and through. Haven¡¯t got a single drop of elven blood in me.¡±


    ¡°Then how the hell¡­¡±


    The rabbit didn¡¯t say anything. She only met him with a wink and a smile.


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    Another set of branches carried forward a platter of drinks in the meantime. They held three different containers in their grasp, a kettle, a pitcher, and a small barrel. They visited each of the guests in turn, offering a freshly grown cup alongside a side of drink. Those who asked for tea were served the hot drink directly, but the juice and mead both came alongside a set of ice cubes, magically created by another one of the plant¡¯s tendrils.


    ¡°Wait a fucking second. Did this fucking tree just cast a spell?¡± Jules furrowed his brow. ¡°Is that a thing, elf?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of an ultimate that can do something similar, but that¡¯s it,¡± said Krail. ¡°Other than that, the closest thing would be summoning a plant with some sort of ice-making property, but this is clearly just an ordinary evergreen root.¡±


    ¡°Very ordinary,¡± said Lana, as she gave it a flick. ¡°Not enhanced like elf magic.¡±


    ¡°The elven system comes with a lot of limitations,¡± said Allegra. ¡°The one I came up with is a little slower, but it¡¯s far more free form. You¡¯re free to steal the framework if you¡¯re able to figure it out. I wouldn¡¯t mind teaching it either, if you¡¯d rather that.¡±


    A chalkboard started to grow from the ground, but Claire stomped it back into the floor before it could fully manifest. ¡°No. No lectures.¡±


    ¡°Maybe some other time then,¡± said Allegra. ¡°Now, lunch will be ready in a second,¡± She pointed at the plants in the midst of making the meal, ¡°but first...¡±


    Mana flooded from her body as her expression turned firm. Allegra wasn¡¯t an aspect. And yet, the sheer amount of mana she released eclipsed that of the party¡¯s bard. It was like the air itself had frozen. There was so much of Allegra¡¯s magic all around that it was almost too difficult to move. The words were ice cold, and yet, they inspired nothing but perspiration in most of the party¡¯s members. Even Chloe and Lana, who were far less sensitive to mana, found their bodies shaking.


    Then, as suddenly as it appeared, the pressure suddenly vanished. The mana receded back into the rabbit, who scanned the room with a gentle smile.


    ¡°I think it¡¯d be best if you turned around and went home.¡±


    ¡°I am afraid we cannot.¡± Arciel was the first to steady her breath. ¡°We have chosen this path of carnage knowing of the threat posed by a Cadrian champion.¡±


    Allegra smiled wryly. ¡°Not a single one of you is still calm enough to fight.¡±


    Even Sylvia had reacted with a start, landing on all fours with her back arch and her tail bristled.


    ¡°I was fine,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°You¡¯re used to your father¡¯s hostility. You don¡¯t count, and neither do your weapons,¡± said Allegra. ¡°The problem is how you¡¯ll do as a group, and if this is enough to make most of you balk, all you¡¯ll be doing is disappointing the crowd.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire. ¡°I have a plan.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess, you¡¯re thinking of doing something insane like taking them up into the Langgbjerns and magically solve everything by racking up kills.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not insane.¡±


    The rabbit buried her face in her hands. ¡°Claire, do you know how dangerous Cadria''s champions are?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Then you should know that this little harebrained scheme of yours is never going to work. Cadria¡¯s fighters simply have more strength and experience, and their builds are far more suited for dueling. This silly little party of yours has three true mages. To say nothing of your father, how do you expect any of them to survive one of Durham¡¯s rushes? You¡¯ll just be wasting their lives.¡±


    ¡°With all due respect,¡± said Krail, ¡°I do think that while I might struggle in close combat, most of the others will be fine. They ca¡ª¡±


    ¡°At his fastest, Durham can outrun my lightning spells.¡±


    The old elf blinked. ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°In a pinch, he¡¯s capable of reaching roughly four hundred times the speed of sound.¡±


    ¡°A challenge,¡± said Lana. While everyone else grimaced, she alone had sparkles in her eyes.


    ¡°That¡¯s insane,¡± said Krail. ¡°At that speed, his skin would peel off before he could so much as take a second step.¡±


    ¡°And he can do it while wearing a full set of armour,¡± said Allegra. ¡°You would need to be able to deploy a barrier quickly enough to deflect the attack while also accounting for countermeasures against magic without compromising the barrier¡¯s integrity.¡±


    ¡°That is simply absurd,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Is such a feat even possible for a mortal mind?¡±


    Allegra smiled. ¡°You should invest more of your points into agility. Firepower is certainly important, but you can make up for it with more powerful spells. You need to be fast to keep up with a warrior.¡±


    ¡°I suppose I see the rationale at higher levels,¡± said the squid. ¡°I had not considered deviating much from my current distribution.¡±


    ¡°Most of the common knowledge only applies at lower levels. At higher levels, you need to start meeting higher baselines, especially in duels,¡± said Allegra. ¡°You¡¯ll have to think many steps ahead. Our countrymen are far more experienced, and you can bet that most of the combatants we choose will be specialised in dueling.¡±


    ¡°That is rather troublesome,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t think you stand a chance. You should pack it up and go home.¡±


    ¡°Seems fun,¡± said Lana. ¡°I want to try.¡±


    ¡°I am unfortunately incapable of backing down at this juncture,¡± said Arciel. ¡°The fate of the nation depends on our performance. If we are lacking, then we must simply make up the difference through our efforts in the coming year.¡±


    ¡°Half the warriors they¡¯re picking will have lived and fought for a thousand years. Four seasons worth of training isn¡¯t going to cut it, especially not when they¡¯ll be making similar efforts. You might even find them up in the Langgbjerns.¡±


    ¡°Even so,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°I¡¯m not backing out either,¡± said Jules. ¡°I said I was in from the start, and I¡¯m seeing this fucking shit through.¡±


    ¡°If everyone else has made up their minds, then I couldn¡¯t possibly throw in the towel,¡± said Krail, with a smile. ¡°If I must give my life for my country, then so be it.¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah, what he said,¡± said Chloe.


    Allegra looked at her sheepishly, but refrained from addressing the obvious fib aloud. She turned her eyes to the fox instead, who blinked a few times and tilted her head before finally clapping her paws in understanding.


    ¡°Oh! Uhmm¡­ I''m not fighting,¡± she said, after the rabbit nodded.


    ¡°Our last fighter isn''t with us yet,¡± said Claire.


    Allegra scrunched up her brow, but dismissed whatever questions she had with a shake of the head.


    ¡°I see.¡± She tapped her foot against the ground, thinking for a few moments before leaping up onto the table and giving the guests a scan. Her eyes eventually settled on her pupil, which prompted her to thump the table some more. ¡°Then I''m coming with you.¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°I''m going to be the one who fights my father.¡±


    ¡°I don''t see how that changes anything.¡±


    ¡°I thought you wanted a rematch.¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    ¡°Then why?¡±


    ¡°Do you really have to ask that?¡± Allegra sighed. ¡°If I leave them in your hands, you''ll just get them killed.¡±


    ¡°That''s not what I meant,¡± said Claire. ¡°Ferdinand is dead. Chasing his ideals is treason.¡±


    Allegra smiled. ¡°Treason? Why would it be treason? I''m just following the princess¡¯ orders,¡± she said, before narrowing her eyes, ¡°or did you think you could get away with keeping your identity a secret?¡±


    ¡°I''m not stupid,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Then I don''t see a problem.¡±


    Claire sighed. ¡°Fine.¡±


    ¡°I am afraid I do not follow this particular line of logic,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I understand that you trust her, Claire, and my trust in you is as you know it, but I wish for this matter to be thoroughly explained.¡±


    ¡°Fishy,¡± said Lana, with a nod.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anything I can say that will convince you,¡± said Allegra. ¡°But you won¡¯t win any duels without my assistance. To be honest, I doubt you¡¯ll win any, even with it.¡±


    Claire magically lifted the rabbit by the scruff. ¡°And the real reason?¡±


    Allegra smiled. It was a soft, kind smile. ¡°I tried to intervene when you performed the lost library¡¯s rite, and your father was the only reason I didn¡¯t.¡±


    A blink. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Allegra slowly steadied her breath. ¡°It¡¯s been eating at me ever since, and I want to do something to make it up to you.¡±


    ¡°I would hardly have harboured so many suspicions had you led with that,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Mhm! Or if you dispelled the illusion that¡¯s making you look like an ordinary bunny,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I-illusion? What illusion?¡± said Allegra. She started visibly sweating, especially when Claire narrowed her eyes.


    ¡°Now that you mention it, she¡¯s always looked like an ordinary, unascended cottontail. Even though she isn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°T-that¡¯s because I am an ordinary cottontail.¡±


    ¡°Really fishy,¡± said Lana.


    Claire extended a hand in her tutor¡¯s direction, but Allegra ducked under it with ease. Her second and third attempts were no more successful, and bolstering her speed did little to improve her chances. Allegra continued to evade her fingertips, summoning the wind to counteract the vectors that acted against her body¡¯s momentum.


    That, of course, only raised the lyrkress¡¯ already astronomical suspicions. She started diving at the rabbit, only for the distance between them to grow each time. Large plates of wood inserted themselves between them, further obstructing her already futile efforts for as long as she refused to give up.

 Chapter 404 - Cadria V

    Chapter 404 - Cadria V


    It didn¡¯t take Allegra much time to pack her things. Perhaps having already anticipated the party¡¯s arrival, and perhaps having long resolved herself to some sort of intervention, the rabbit had a rucksack full of supplies ready to go at the drop of a hat. She even had a sleeping bag and a tent stuffed into her luggage. Packing a few sets of clothes was all she needed to wrap up her preparations. That, and leaving a sign on her door that marked her shop¡¯s temporary closure.


    Thanks to the swiftness of her handiwork, the party was able to set out after lunch, not too long after Claire gave up on her tutor¡¯s capture¡ªshe had harassed her throughout the packing process, but she had nothing to show for her efforts. Of course, she could have boxed the rabbit in with a series of Borises and called checkmate, but with the final resort feeling no different from a loss, she had begrudgingly thrown up her arms and given up altogether.


    ¡°I would say that you chant more than fast enough, but the real problem is with the way you chant. That, and the lack of originality. Your spells are too ordinary and easy to repel. You¡¯ll want to come up with something that has an easier time throwing your enemies for a loop.¡±


    ¡°The way we chant?¡± asked Krail.


    ¡°Do you know how Jules abbreviates his spells?¡±


    ¡°I know the theory behind it. He has individual blocks compiled ahead of time, which allows him to cast a relatively standard spell on the fly.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± said Alelgra. ¡°For mages who opt for a chantless approach, his methods are ideal. Naturally, not all schools can emulate his behaviour exactly, given that most spells use absolute position instead of relative position for their targeting, but it¡¯s still possible to learn from the principals.¡±


    ¡°In which manner, precisely?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°To begin with, you need to understand why spells need chants to begin with. The chants themselves don¡¯t strictly play a part in weaving a spell, and that¡¯s why you¡¯ll often find cases where some spells can be used either with or without their chants. All a chant really does is enforce a set of ideas, which is then translated by the system into the corresponding output. You can produce the same output by simply finding different ways to represent the same concept.¡±


    ¡°I recall reading a paper discussing a similar matter,¡± said Arciel. ¡°However, the methods that it touted were rather obtuse and impractical.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked Krail.


    ¡°You basically have to hypnotize yourself,¡± said Allegra, with a smile. ¡°You have to keep associating an image or pattern with a chant until your mind accepts that they are literally the same thing.¡±


    The elf scratched the back of his head. ¡°How literally?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not even allowed to recognize that one is an abbreviation of the other. Recognizing that it¡¯s a shortcut will affect the spell¡¯s output.¡±


    ¡°That is precisely why I touted it impractical,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I cannot see how it might be possible for one to convince themselves as such.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s not that hard,¡± said Allegra, with a smile. ¡°Now, I¡¯m not saying that this is how you should do it, but some of Cadria¡¯s other magi have suggested removing a part of your brain and then working on the spell while it regenerates.¡±


    ¡°How¡­ barbaric,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to pass on that,¡± said Krail.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. The way that most sane people do it is through strenuous repetition. A few days of straight combat should put you in the right state of mind.¡±


    ¡°I remain uncertain that your alternative is any more appealing.¡±


    Similar lectures ensued throughout the rest of the day. Each was an insightful, longform explanation of some topic or other, but Claire was completely uninterested. She spent far more time sleeping than not; her ability to stay awake was utterly destroyed by the familiar, droning voice.


    Few others shared her boredom. Most of the party was better educated by nightfall, and even more learned by bedtime. Having spent the better part of a thousand years cooped up in her laboratory, the grand magus was practically a walking encyclopedia, only far more engaging and proactive. She added addendum to addendum, fact and observation to every discussable facet that she happened to cover throughout the day.


    Much to Claire¡¯s dismay, everyone else continued to prod at Allegra¡¯s mind. The rabbit¡¯s responses were so vivid that they somehow pierced the barrier that divided reality from the land of dreams.


    Despite annoying her to no end, the rabbit¡¯s rants made her sleep more restful. She had known that Allegra was fine, unaffected by the curse that had struck the manor following Claire¡¯s initial departure. She had watched while the rabbit dueled her father, with both still in perfect health. But seeing her in person again, without the veils that were Rubia¡¯s eyes, somehow put her heart at ease. There was no blood relation. No matter how hard she tried, the rabbit would never fill the void that her mother had left behind. And yet, the sense of comfort was entirely undeniable. Even though she knew that the feelings only went one way.


    Irksome a thought though it was, she knew that she made Allegra anxious. She couldn''t tell if it was because of how much her body had changed, or if it was simply because she was barely the same person, but she could feel the rabbit¡¯s tentative eyes upon her. They often flitted in her direction, the gazes lasting only a few moments longer than most others before flickering away again.


    Without the bolstered senses provided by her ascensions, she might not even have noticed them. And perhaps, Allegra was convinced that she didn''t. But they were undeniably present.


    When she looked at her, Allegra''s eyes were hesitant, nervous, perhaps even guilty. It was difficult to get a good read, but whatever the case, it seemed like they were due for a long chat in private. The only problem was that there weren¡¯t any obvious opportunities, or at least none that she was able to find during their first two days of being reunited.


    Day three was equally as inconvenient, though it was less because the rabbit had remained the center of attention, and more so because they had arrived at a major city. The Pollux march certainly served as the nation¡¯s international hub, but even with the work invested by the late marquis, it was far from the sort of place that most foreign merchants were willing to visit en masse. After all, Cadria was a harsh land. Even a small caravan would need a set of thrice-ascended bodyguards to successfully drive off the local fauna, and it was simply impractical to dole out the requisite payments lest one dealt in luxury goods.


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    That was not to say that the land was devoid of travelers. Despite the dangers, Cadrians themselves often wheeled small caravans all over. Sure, they were still at risk of being attacked, but thorae could hover in the air, cottontails could hide amongst the weeds, and centaurs could pick up the pace. Even though the monsters were strong, few could be bothered to give chase to a horse-man running at full clip and many merchants picked skills to help with their sprinting precisely for those scenarios. Without a tamer class, it was often quite difficult to train a pet or monster to do the same.


    Lamias were the only native species that, relatively speaking, struggled to get around, though it was hardly a result of their survivability. Rather, they could only freely move from the southeastern coastline during four of the year¡¯s eight months. And even during that time, they generally preferred to stay put in their homes. Those that ventured outwards mostly did so to find husbands after spending a lifetime in an environment deprived of the opposite sex, hence the common reputation that lamian women only ever wanted one thing. Given the size of the city that stood before them, it was possible that they would find a few chasing just that.


    Unlike the Pollux march, whose largest cities were all scholarly retreats centered around the study and manufacture of artifacts, the Titus county was of a more traditional make. Its cities were massive fortresses, and the provincial capital sitting in their path served as nothing if not a prime example thereof.


    Modeled in the spirit of Valencia, it was a city in two parts. One was a massive, landlocked stronghold with giant steel walls built high enough to resemble a mountain, while the other was a floating island that served not only as the lord¡¯s manor, but also the control center for the magical barrier that would shield the city in the event of an attack. As was the case with the three ducal manors, it was the only weak spot in a nigh impenetrable defense. Anyone that wished to lay siege to the city would need to either take over the floating castle or shoot it out of the sky.


    Security was clearly not an issue with so many protections in place. And yet, perhaps because Lord Titus himself was more paranoid than his southern neighbour, the guards carefully inspected every caravan that passed.


    ¡°Look at this fucking line, goddamn. It goes on for fucking days,¡± said Jules.


    ¡°It is certainly rather¡­ sizable.¡± Arciel joined him in sticking her head out the front and observing the path ahead.


    ¡°Lacrium¡¯s gates are always busy, but they¡¯ve been getting even more traffic lately,¡± said Allegra.


    The traffic jam in question looked long enough to be counted in hours¡ªthere were dozens upon dozens of carts lined up outside, and only more gathering behind them. It was thanks to the three-way crossroads that converged into the highway leading up to its entrance, with one being the path that the party had taken, leading into the neighbouring provinces, and the other two leading to other major cities. The same story was told at each of the other gateways. Though no one bothered to check, a quick look from above would have confirmed that all three of the paths leading in and out of the city were completely packed to the brim.


    ¡°The local lord has been doing everything he can to boost the economy short term.¡± The cottontail continued. ¡°I¡¯m a little out of the loop, but I think his most recent strategy has been cutting taxes for permanent residents and loosening the restrictions you need to be counted.¡±


    ¡°So he can raise funds. For the war,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± said Allegra. ¡°He seems pretty keen on sponsoring at least one of the seven.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s picking at straws,¡± said Claire.


    The rabbit smiled. ¡°He¡¯s never been the keenest strategist.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯d be in charge of a march if he was,¡± said Claire.


    Marches and counties were technically ruled by members of the same rank. That is, marquises and counts were, for all intents and purposes, considered equivalent by the court. But while that was technically true, it was a truth that stemmed simply from the system that Cadria had borrowed during its founding. In reality, even though they had no more privileges, marquises were looked upon with more favour, for they were recognized as being powerful enough to guard the nation¡¯s borders.


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ so you¡¯re supposed to be like, super important, right?¡± asked the fox on Claire¡¯s head¡ªshe refused to give up the seat, despite needing a bubble to prevent Claire¡¯s helmet from grating against her stomach. ¡°Can¡¯t you just like, get us in?¡±


    ¡°I was,¡± said Allegra. ¡°But now that I¡¯ve resigned, I don¡¯t have any more standing than the average citizen.¡±


    ¡°Awww¡­¡± The fox collapsed into a pile. ¡°At this rate, we¡¯re gonna be stuck waiting all day.¡±


    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t take that long,¡± said Allegra, with a chuckle. ¡°One of the guards should be coming by to survey us soon, and we should be able to skip a bit further ahead if we tell them that we¡¯re looking to fight in the ¡®war.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Would that not see us exposed?¡± asked Arciel.


    ¡°I don¡¯t really think there¡¯s much helping that,¡± said Allegra, with a bit of a grimace. ¡°Me being here doesn¡¯t help, but you would¡¯ve been found out sooner or later anyway, even if you managed to lie your way into the city.¡±


    ¡°And whyever is that?¡±


    ¡°Half the gambling rings have moose and elves on staff,¡± said Allegra, ¡°they¡¯ll probably pick us out from the crowd in a heartbeat.¡±


    Had the Pollux march been in a better state, the same thing likely would have happened further south. Even though the cities were full of book-brained artificers, there should have been enough high level moose and elves to discern their identities. Alas, most of them were dead. The sellswords and guards left hanging around were far less driven than those who had been shipped abroad. Though visiting a more combat-oriented city, like one whose main draw was its colosseum, no doubt would have produced the same result regardless.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be better to avoid the city altogether then?¡± asked Chloe.


    ¡°There¡¯s no point,¡± said Claire. ¡°My father¡¯s agents already know. They¡¯ve had us marked since the moment we crossed the border. It¡¯s only a matter of time before the public finds out.¡±


    ¡°Adding to that,¡± said Allegra, ¡°there aren¡¯t as many foreigners this far north, and I bet some of the patrols you¡¯ve passed have already made the connection.¡± She took off her hat and hid it under her seat whilst replacing her witchy cloak with a more casual one.


    ¡°I would not think most of us stand out so readily. Though Lana and Jules are certainly difficult to disguise, the rest of us could pass for elves, so long as our ears are kept obscured. I was under the impression that was why we tasked Krail with driving.¡±


    ¡°I thought you all just pawned it off on me because you couldn¡¯t, or couldn¡¯t be damned,¡± said the elf.


    ¡°That was certainly a factor,¡± admitted Arciel, ¡°but your continued aid has provided an opportunity for a disguise.¡±


    ¡°I really hate to say this, but that isn¡¯t going to work,¡± said Allegra. ¡°They¡¯re likely to have lie detectors on them, and the elves here, are, well¡­¡± She smiled wryly, ¡°just like the elves you¡¯d find anywhere else.¡±


    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± grumbled Krail. ¡°Look, I know that the rest of you are obsessed with your silly fictitious gods, but I ain¡¯t falling for any of that goddamn bullshit.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we put the theology on hold for now and come back to it later?¡± said Allegra. ¡°One of the guards is headed our way, and we¡¯d be better off deciding our approach.¡±


    Krail still looked a little miffed, but throwing up his arms and breathing a sigh, he dropped the topic entirely. As the rabbit had said, the closest guard was only five or six caravans away. There were a few wagonless groups smooshed between them as well, but in either case, they would soon be within earshot.


    ¡°Well, Arciel,¡± he said, ¡°it¡¯s your call. Are we heading down the rabbit hole or are we feigning ignorance?¡±


    The squid paused briefly to tap her chin with her fan. ¡°Let us do as Allegra has advised. I understand your suspicions, but I would rather we trusted her than not.¡±


    ¡°Wait, let me handle it,¡± said Claire. ¡°I have a plan.¡±

 Chapter 405 - Cadria VI

    Chapter 405 - Cadria VI


    Though the others were a little skeptical, given her lack of explanation, Claire removed Krail from the driver¡¯s seat and took over his spot in front. There wasn¡¯t enough time to ramble. The guards would soon be in earshot, and the plan would fall apart if it were overheard.


    Sylvia remained on her head throughout and even cast a bubble inside of her armour when she heard a whispered request. The magical construct in question lasted for all of five minutes; Claire absorbed the mana that comprised it as her countrymen closed in.


    ¡°G¡¯dftern¡¯n,¡± said the reverse centaur in question. His lips sputtered as the words bubbled up from his throat, resulting in a whinnying distortion reminiscent of someone from the nation¡¯s westernmost reaches. ¡°Wtru¡¯ere f¡¯r?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here to claim one of the seven positions,¡± she said.


    Though she had practiced it inside the bubble, she still found it difficult to believe that the voice was her own. She had somewhat transformed her vocal chords, bringing them a teensy bit closer to the size that they were in her draconic form. The resulting voice was just deep enough to seem androgynous, perhaps even slightly male leaning with the gruff growls she added.


    ¡°Th¡¯war, eh?¡± The man glanced at the band on his wrist. ¡°Whtsa warrur ¡®iq nedacarrge fr?¡±


    ¡°Some friends of mine happen to be coming along for the ride. They¡¯ll be watching my duels.¡±


    ¡°Issee.¡± The reverse centaur paused for a moment. ¡°Ann cntrabnd ¡®r mrchndse?¡±


    ¡°None,¡± said Claire. ¡°We¡¯ve got some luggage, but that¡¯s about it.¡±


    ¡°¡®Itie.¡± The guard glanced at his wrist band one more time. ¡°Yrfre t¡¯go.¡±


    He started walking over to the next carriage, completely oblivious that he wasn¡¯t told the whole truth. And in all likelihood, he would have gone the rest of his life none the wiser had the fox on Claire¡¯s head not lost the battle against her laughter.


    Unable to hold it in any longer, Sylvia fell off her seat and rolled back and forth as she laughed aloud. Claire immediately clamped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. The guard turned back around with a cocked brow. His face was warped first in confusion and then in suspicion.


    ¡°Wzzofnny?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± said Claire. ¡°My pet is just being silly.¡±


    Again, the man checked his wristband, and again, there was no reaction. Still, he remained suspicious, especially when the fox started beating a front paw against the carriage as would a person.


    ¡°Mgnna¡¯ve t¡¯chek yr crgo,¡± he said. He walked right up to the rear flap and threw it open. He didn¡¯t say much at first, but his eyes glimmered as he surveyed the people inside. ¡°Whch sd ¡®d y¡¯say yr fgtn ¡®ngen?¡±


    Claire sighed. The ruse was up. ¡°Vel¡¯khan¡¯s.¡±


    A murmur rippled through their surroundings as the man twisted his lips into a grin.


    ¡°Thtso?¡± He flexed his fingers one at a time as he lowered his hand to the blade his waist. ¡°Th¡¯mgna ¡®ve t¡¯test¡¯ya.¡±


    Wordlessly, Claire descended from the driver¡¯s seat and faced the guard. While he lowered his hips and bent his knees, she remained in a perfectly neutral stance.


    ¡°Come.¡±


    The man-horse took the invitation with a grin. He kicked off the ground, kicking up a cloud of fresh autumn leaves as he dashed across the cobblestone road. He kept his blade sheathed for the better part of his advance, drawing it only as he entered his striking range. With such a technique, most fighters would have opted to use the edge, but even if a warmongering idiot, the guard was well aware of his position. He led with the flat of his blade and aimed for the leg to ensure a non-fatal strike.


    Alas, his consideration was irrelevant. Claire grabbed him by the face and slammed him into the ground before he could complete the swing. She seized his wrists before he could start flailing, spun him onto his back, and rendered him immobile.


    Proper form and technique would have made the motion into a perfect, harmless suppression, but Claire had none of those things. She twisted his arm loose from his shoulders instead and bent his elbows in all the wrong ways. Were he anything but a career soldier, he surely would have been screaming in pain, but with his history as it was, all the man did was laugh.


    ¡°Nobbd,¡± he said. His body twisted itself back into place once Claire released him. ¡°Y¡¯cn tak da¡¯xprsslne.¡±


    Nodding, Claire returned to the driver¡¯s seat and lightly flicked the reins. She hadn¡¯t the faintest clue as to how she was meant to order the turberi into the express lane, so she solved that particular problem with a set of vectors instead. She redirected their feet when they walked, completely nonchalant, even as another group of guards ran over.


    They likely wouldn¡¯t have cared too much for the commotion, but their accented companion explained the situation with a smirk. And soon, the number of challengers itching for a taste of Vel¡¯khan grew from one to three to an unfathomable number. It was not only the guards, but also the patrols and civilians that proceeded to join the fray.


    The crowd cheered and jeered as fists, weapons, and bodies flew all over. No one seemed to care too much as to exactly who was winning; people rooted as frequently for the nameless knight as they did the challengers who approached her.


    ¡°I almost dare not ask,¡± said Arciel, ¡°but is this meant to be a regular occurance? I recall that there was a similar event during our first night in Estau.¡±


    ¡°You get used to it,¡± said Allegra. ¡°We¡¯re a bit of a rowdy bunch.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like everyone is as reckless and silly as Claire,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°It really does drive home that we¡¯re in Cadria now,¡± said Krail. ¡°But it still seems a little strange. What happened to the grudge that gave rise to the war? It almost feels like it doesn''t exist.¡±


    ¡°Here, it doesn''t,¡± said Allegra. ¡°It''s only the Pollux march where enough people lost their close relations to care. And even then, you''d probably find a bunch like this.¡±


    ¡°Was this why you said that we¡¯d be okay?¡± asked Chloe.


    The rabbit nodded. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how you see this war in Vel¡¯khan, but to our people, the war is a cause for celebration. They¡¯re happy that she¡¯s strong. It means that the battles will only be all the more worth watching. The ones who tried to attack Vel¡¯khan, claiming righteous vengeance, were only doing it for glory.¡±


    ¡°It is truly a struggle to understand their thought process. It defies all common sense, and it appears that even self preservation is entirely forgone.¡±


    ¡°Battlecrazed,¡± said Lana. ¡°Like my crew.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah. I almost forgot you pirates were like that,¡± said Jules.


    ¡°Only some,¡± said Lana. ¡°Unlike Cadrians.¡±


    Allegra smiled wistfully. ¡°I know it¡¯s odd, but it helps us survive.¡±


    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m surprised anyone lives this far north,¡± said Jules. ¡°The magic here is so damn thick that it¡¯s choking the shit out of me.¡±


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    The party continued to chat idly as Claire worked her way through the crowd. It took the better part of an hour, but she eventually beat down the rest of her challengers. The whole thing grew out of proportion. One of the military commanders happened to spot the brawl and threw his soldiers into the mix. One of them managed to stall for a solid five seconds, but recognizing the importance of a more dominant display, Claire tugged at his leg with a vector and rammed her fist into his face.


    When they were finally allowed to continue on their way, it was to a bout of cheers. Some of the locals even threw gifts her way. Fistfuls of loose change, baskets of fruit, and other miscellaneous goods found their way into the carriage, with one observer even handing her a full metal spear alongside a piece of paper that marked his forge¡¯s address.


    For a second, it looked like everything had finally calmed down, but news of the brawl had long spread to the city. There were even more challengers waiting on the other side of the gate, itching to test the Vel¡¯khanese guests.


    Again, Claire dealt with them in turn, and again, the brawl birthed a festive mood. The fighting lasted for about three hours in total, with even some of the local colosseum¡¯s fighters announcing their names and joining the fray.


    The hours of sweat and blood were certainly troublesome, but so too did they prove worth their while. One of the city¡¯s high-end establishments extended an offer to let them stay free of charge. Dinner was included as well¡ªthe chef threw a melange of luxury ingredients together to prepare a meal that even Claire was happy to indulge in, though she had to take it back to the room to keep her face hidden.


    She briefly stood by the windowsill and carefully checked her surroundings before doing away with her disguise and climbing atop the roof.


    The city, which had been bustling throughout the day, was much quieter at night. If not for the taverns, the red light district, and the local Kryddartown, it would have been almost deathly silent. Even the skies were basically empty. The occasional patrol passed by, but the soldiers in question were a lot less attentive than they were during the day. In relative times of peace, they were ordered to forgo any artifacts that provided them with night vision in order to facilitate the skill¡¯s development. Such finicky tools were easily destroyed in battle, and one could never be prepared enough to continue one¡¯s mission without.


    Thanks to that, she was able to enjoy her meal in the quiet of the night. The delicious steak she ordered practically melted into her mouth and flirted with her tongue, teasing it with nearly twenty different seasonings and spices. It still didn¡¯t match Amereth¡¯s cooking, but it was good enough to serve even those born with silver spoons in hand.


    ¡°I thought you were avoiding me,¡± she said, as her solitude was broken.


    ¡°Not exactly.¡± A large branch grew from the building and carried Allegra onto the roof. ¡°But sorting through my emotions was a little harder than I¡¯d expected.¡± She walked across the rooftop and sat right next to her pupil. There still seemed to be a bit of hesitation in her steps, but she powered through with a smile.


    She didn¡¯t continue immediately. Instead, she nursed the drink in her hands¡ªa large mug of undiluted vekratt.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re safe. I always knew you would be. You¡¯re his daughter, and as I looked back, I realised that it should have been obvious. He always had a plan. He always knew exactly what would happen. But I couldn¡¯t help but worry.¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± said Allegra.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be. I¡¯m over it already.¡±


    ¡°You might be. I¡¯m not.¡± The rabbit raised her mug to her lips and, after a moment¡¯s hesitation, drained the rest of her drink in a single breath. It didn¡¯t seem wise. There was enough of the drink to replace half her blood with alcohol. ¡°You were like a daughter to me, Claire. But I chose to let you die. If I was there for you more, if I just did a better job of raising you, then none of this would have happened.¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°It was Father¡¯s fault. He planned everything.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but I could¡¯ve gone with you. Or at least, I could¡¯ve found you. If I did, I might¡¯ve been able to stop you before you had to bloody your hands like this. I could¡¯ve stopped Tornatus from happening.¡±


    ¡°I doubt that.¡± Claire finally turned away from her meal and faced the rabbit with an icy cold stare. ¡°Pollux deserved it. They all deserved it.¡±


    ¡°I know that isn¡¯t how you feel, Claire.¡±


    ¡°It was how I felt in the moment.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s not how you feel anymore. You¡¯re kinder than that. I know it. Your father knows it. That¡¯s why he hasn¡ª¡±


    ¡°What do you know?¡± Claire shot her a glare. ¡°Pollux killed one of my best friends. Purely for the joy of it.¡±


    Allegra winced.


    ¡°What else was there to do? I had to pay him back.¡±


    ¡°Claire.¡±


    ¡°I did it becau¡ª¡±


    ¡°Claire.¡± The voice was more stern, paired with a pained but disappointed look.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Just be honest.¡±


    ¡°I am being hone¡ª¡±


    ¡°Claire. You¡¯ll feel better after. Trust me.¡±


    The lyrkress took a breath. ¡°You don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°No you do¡ª¡±


    ¡°There was a time when I wanted to completely wipe out the thorae,¡± she said, quietly. ¡°There was a boy I liked, when I was still just an ordinary village girl. He was one of the local magistrate¡¯s sons, a muscle-headed, testosterone-fueled idiot obsessed with all the usual things.¡± She looked over the horizon. ¡°I became a mage so I could follow him into battle, and together, we fought on the northern lines. Before I knew it, he had become one of the army¡¯s commanders, and I became his second. We were pretty well known for punching above our weight class. But that was also why we got in over our heads. We blindly followed the higher ups¡¯ orders and tried to attack one of the enemy units, but they overpowered us. And he let himself get caught so I could get away.¡±


    She tried to take another swig from her mug, but realising that it was empty, she threw it off the side of the roof and ordered a branch to bring it into the kitchen.


    ¡°The next time I saw him was on the front lines again. They brought him along as a prisoner when they launched an attack on our northernmost fort. They strapped him to a wheel and paraded him around. Before they attacked, they goaded us by torturing him. They tore his body apart, piece by piece. They tore out his eyes and ate his organs in front of us. If I was as strong as you were, when you attacked Pollux, I would¡¯ve done the same thing. Hell, I still tried.¡±


    She stopped for a moment to take a breath.


    ¡°I spent years in the north, cooped up in a room, researching my spells. I came up with something nasty. It was a rotting spell that would only infect throae, and on my command, it would start to eat them from the inside, killing them over the course of a day. I wanted them to suffer as he had, and I only became a magus because I was obsessed with making the theory into a reality. I figured it out before your father ended the war. I started testing it on them. I attacked one of their villages by myself and started killing indiscriminately. I thought I¡¯d love their screams, but they only made me feel empty. It turned out, I hated the taste of revenge.¡±


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t,¡± said Claire.


    Allegra stared at her briefly before bringing her hand to her face in the most obviously fake display of disbelief that she could have possibly managed. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you wanted to be just like Virillius.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°He¡­ your father never quite let go of his brother¡¯s shadow. Revenge is one of the few things he cares for. He¡¯s obsessed with it. He revels in it. And a brief mention of his brother was all he needed to ignite the spark again.¡±


    Claire didn¡¯t say anything.


    ¡°I won¡¯t stop you from becoming just like him, if that¡¯s really what you want.¡±


    The rabbit twisted her lips into a smile while Claire warped hers into a frown.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to bed.¡± Handing her plate to one of Allegra¡¯s branches, she stood up from her seat and returned to the balcony, not saying a word even as she slammed the window shut with far too much force.


    Allegra watched her go with a chuckle, a faint smile that remained on her lips, even as she descended from the roof and tottered onto the streets. Though her steps were unsteady, they were not unguided. She made a series of specific turns before winding up in an alley on the edge of town.


    Her collaborator had long been waiting. Present for once in his real body, the white moose had his arms crossed and his back against a wall. His eyes were closed and his ears were folded, but he remained well aware of her presence. Despite his apparent indolence, he kicked over a small box with just enough force for it to bounce off the wall beside her and position itself to her rear.


    It was in just the right position, at just the right height, that she could be comfortably seated without so much as taking half a step.


    ¡°Well?¡± The moose, Constantius Augustus, opened his eyes, returned his ears to their usual positions, and twisted his lips into a smirk. ¡°Trust me now?¡±


    Allegra didn¡¯t answer. She ground her molars together while her front teeth dug into her lips.


    ¡°Oh, come on. Don¡¯t give me that look. Everything¡¯s played out exactly how I said it would, hasn¡¯t it? It wouldn¡¯t kill you to let down your guard just a bit.¡± Constantius sighed. ¡°Look. I¡¯m not saying we¡¯ve got to be butt buddies, but the jackpot is on the table and it¡¯s ours the moment you sign on.¡±


    Allegra slowly shook her head. ¡°I won¡¯t fall for your lies.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not lying.¡± The demonic, jester-like smile vanished from his face in favour of a solemn frown. His eyes were earnest, but she found it too difficult to trust him, not with the way his brother and his niece were capable of manipulating their outward emotions. ¡°Listen to me, Allegra. It¡¯s as much for my brother as it is for our country. It¡¯s our only choice.¡±

 Chapter 406 - Cadria VII

    Chapter 406 - Cadria VII


    The reception that the party met going through Titus county was perfectly representative of every encounter thereafter. A brawl ensued whenever they were found out. Most of the bouts were friendly, but not everyone was quite so sensible. Chief among the idiots was a centaur by the name of Ignacio Alsomethingorother, who paid the party a visit in the middle of the night and shouted an introduction at the top of his lungs. He screamed for upwards of ten minutes, begging loudly for a duel until Claire finally lost her patience. Needless to say, the moron in question was reduced to a dark red stain shortly before she planted her face back in the blankets.


    At Allegra¡¯s behest, they visited a number of local dungeons as they continued to make their way north. Chloe finally achieved her third ascension, the primary changes of which manifested through her hair yet again. The once golden strands grew lighter, becoming a silvery platinum with bits of red interspersed. The only other notable change was that she grew a second pair of wings, though unlike the first, they emerged from her clothes instead of body. They extended haphazardly from her sleeves, her shoulders, and sometimes even her socks. Their precise shape and texture were outside of her direct control and they changed every time she swapped out her clothes, though individual outfits appeared to yield consistent results.


    The rest of the party crept closer to the eight-fifty wall, with Allegra further improving their fundamentals through her meticulous instruction.


    Frequent as they were, the experience-focused detours stole much of their time; a full month passed before the brigade finally found itself in Valencia.


    Claire¡¯s hometown¡ªCadria¡¯s capital city¡ªwas exactly as she recalled it. It stood proudly in the middle of a massive plain. The mightiest stronghold known to mortal men.


    Unlike many of the other cities they had found along the way, it was without the towering metal walls that gated its expansion. It was enclosed in a gargantuan dome instead¡ªa visible magical barrier that enveloped both the city and the area around it. Though it appeared to be fixed in place, the oblong shield could be freely adjusted. Of course, its requisite power draw would rise with an increase in its dimensions, but that was an issue of least concern. It was fueled by no less than thirteen greater ley lines. To label the situation as overkill was nothing short of an understatement. A single standard line sufficed to supply all the city¡¯s needs, shield and all, and it was said that a higher level dungeon was sure to spawn wherever two happened to meet.


    In fact, that very phenomenon had played out several times. Though there was only one at the time of its settling, six more had since sprung up within the city¡¯s limits. They were all high level, dangerous enough to put Crimson Rock to shame. And yet, the citizens saw them as boons, blessings from the gods, delivered straight to their doorsteps. One particularly entrepreneurial horse had even made a fortune by selling the right to enter his home after his basement was divinely repurposed.


    While everyone else looked around the meandering streets with their eyes aglimmer, Claire, Sylvia, and Allegra found it an ordinary sight. The moose had lived in it for most of her life, the rabbit was partially responsible for its present shape, and the fox had visited over a dozen times. Even Boris scanned the scene with his eyes wide open. Though his visits were barely less numerous than Sylvia''s, he was rarely conscious and recalled little beyond the castle''s confines.


    ¡°Goddamn,¡± said Jules. ¡°We¡¯re straight fucked.¡± His eyes were on the battleships parked outside the military HQ. There had been a few in each of the cities they passed, but none had as many as the capital. Docked across the sky was a count well into the hundreds, though none were quite as prominent as the three furthest away. The ducal houses were so high up that they were but the tiniest of specks, often hidden by the clouds that dotted the pure blue sky.


    ¡°How big is this place? I can barely see the palace, let alone wherever it ends,¡± said Krail.


    ¡°Valencia is about six hundred square kilometers,¡± said Allegra. ¡°Twenty from north to south and thirty across.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, but those numbers are big enough that they don''t really register,¡± said Krail.


    ¡°Four hundred ship lengths,¡± said Lana.


    ¡°It''s about twenty five times the size of Vel¡¯khagan,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°Holy fuck. Is that including the new districts?¡±


    The maid nodded. ¡°Including everything we¡¯re still in the middle of building.¡±


    ¡°How are we even supposed to wrap our heads around a city that big?¡± asked Krail.


    ¡°There are so many magnificent structures that I am beginning to doubt the appeal of my castle,¡± added Arciel. She glanced not only at the obvious landmarks, like the castle and the colosseum, but also some of the miscellaneous bureaus and businesses scattered all around. The museums, art galleries, and casinos loomed over the downtown area, blotting out the skyline and everything beyond it.


    ¡°It''s not that big of a deal.¡± Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°It''s just Valencia.¡±


    Allegra put on a bit of an awkward smile. ¡°Valencia is a pretty big deal. Do you know how much planning it took for us to get it to grow this big?¡±


    ¡°I don''t care.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on Claire! Where¡¯s your pride? This is your hometown!¡± The rabbit gave her head a disapproving shake.


    ¡°Hardly. You never let me explore it.¡±


    ¡°That''s because all you ever did was get up to mischief and try to run away.¡±


    ¡°I didn''t try to run away. I tried to explore.¡±


    ¡°You tried to give your guards the slip every time you got the chance.¡±


    ¡°They were stifling.¡±


    ¡°Wait, so does that mean she was just as silly and reckless when she was a kid?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°She was,¡± said Allegra. ¡°She would even use her royal decrees on her guards when they got close to catching her,¡± she paused for a moment, speaking again when her ears twitched. ¡°Oh, right. I guess that wouldn¡¯t make much sense to the rest of you. Basically, the soldiers and officers swear vows to the goddess of war when they join the army. They¡¯re unable to disobey magically laced orders that come from the higher ups.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ wait, how does that make any sense?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°Wasn¡¯t Claire just a kid back then? And I¡¯m pretty sure she wasn¡¯t a princess either, until, you know.¡± She raised both paws to her neck and dragged them across.


    ¡°Most of the military sits under House Augustus¡¯ command and she is its only heir,¡± said Allegra. ¡°If anything happens to her father, the military will fall under her rule. That was true even before her father seized the throne.¡±


    ¡°That is a rather¡­ troubling thought,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t,¡± said Claire. The statement earned her a number of looks, but she ignored them, settled back into her seat, and focused on her thoughts. The palace was up ahead. There was still quite some distance until they reached it, but she was struggling to stay calm.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    It wasn¡¯t the fault of all the attention being thrown in their direction. They were certainly due for another brawl¡ªthe only one they had fought by the city¡¯s confines was right by the gate¡ªbut the circumstances had rendered it impossible. The party was accompanied by the city¡¯s finest; the royal guard had descended from the castle to serve as an escort.


    The man in charge had quickly explained the circumstances before taking a respectful distance. His team was clearly in earshot, but Allegra had carved a simple soundproofing spell into the carriage to ensure that no outsiders could overhear their conversations. Thanks to that, they were able to laze about and enjoy the scenery as they proceeded towards the heart of the enemy nation.


    Their purpose in visiting Valencia was twofold. They weren¡¯t due to show their faces for the better part of a year, but it seemed rude not to greet the king as they passed through his domain. More importantly, they planned to remind him of the issues with the Pollux march¡¯s administration, though the group¡¯s Cadrians knew it was effectively a waste of effort.


    It wasn¡¯t like Virillius was unaware. There was only so much that he could do without any reliable staff on the scene. Even if he was slowly becoming more competent of a king, he simply didn¡¯t have the time to personally micromanage the southernmost march whilst worrying about the rest of the nation.


    Even without any traffic jams or other obstructions in the way, it took roughly four hours to go from the city¡¯s far end to the castle¡¯s gates. It likely would have taken less than a quarter of the time had it been a straight-line path. But in Valencia, no such road existed. It was outright impossible to make it from the border to the castle without making at least thirty different turns and no one doubted for a moment that the layout was anything but intentional.


    The city was a labyrinth, a sprawling maze meant to confuse, deter, and stall any invaders unwilling to engage in wanton destruction. And oh so effective it was. After all, it had only taken four hours because they were guided by a group of soldiers who had perfectly memorized its layout.


    ¡°Good day, visitors. I am Centrius Cleveland, a thunderhoof dreadnought in service to Cadria¡¯s king.¡±


    The speaker was a face that Claire knew well. The older, greying centaur was her father¡¯s personal caretaker and she had known him for nearly as long as she breathed. He was accompanied by a full retinue of servants. They were lined up perfectly with maids on the left, butlers on the right, and even spacing between each member.


    ¡°And I am Arciel Vel¡¯khan, empress of tentacles and blood.¡± The squid stepped out of the carriage as she spoke. ¡°I extend my gratitude to your master for his kind invitation.¡±


    ¡°I shall relay it to him at once,¡± he said. ¡°It must have been quite a long journey to come all the way from Vel¡¯khan. While you are here, we would like to offer only the best hospitality. We have prepared a set of individual rooms for each of your members. To our knowledge, they have been tuned to your liking. Please let us know if that is not the case, and we will see it addressed immediately.¡± He twisted his lips into a smile that perfectly matched the shape of his moustache. ¡°You are welcome to stay a full year if you wish. Though, forgive me if I am mistaken, I am under the impression you will be setting out again not too far in the future.¡±


    The formal exchange dragged on as the carriage continued its way through the courtyard, ending shortly after they disembarked. The party¡¯s members voiced their impressions in turn, but Claire paid little attention, neither to them, nor the poorly disguised rabbit fussing over her costume. Everyone knew that she had long been made, but she continued to act as if she hadn¡¯t. Oddly, the guards played along. They whispered about it behind her back, although not at all because they considered her a traitor¡ªthe locals were clearly excited to see a battle between the king and the grand magus¡ªbut no one said anything to her face directly.


    Unlike the rabbit in question, Claire was unable to proceed quite as boldly. She wasn¡¯t sure why, but she felt a strange sense of discomfort. It was never present when she visited the castle before, not even when she brought her real body at her father¡¯s request. It wasn¡¯t like anything had changed. That much she knew from all the time she spent with Rubia. Still, the sense of malaise crawled all over her skin as she joined the others in following the butler.


    They were shown none of the convoluted pathways that allowed the castle to play its part as a fortress. Cleveland took them straight to the throne room and silently beckoned for them to enter.


    At the end of the wine-red carpet sat two familiar figures. One was the nation¡¯s monarch, a moose with a silvery-white coat and his fur in much the same colour. He was dressed not in the regal robes that one might expect of a man of his stature, but rather the same metal protectors that adorned the guards who hovered around the castle. The only piece he was missing was a bucket-shaped helm. To the foreigners, it was a mystery how the locals and their antlers even managed to get them on.


    His daughter, on the other hand, was dressed in a set of silken garbs. She was almost perfectly covered, with even a thin veil to mute the details of her visage. But while slightly obscured, they were not made invisible. Her face and her ears were both immediately recognizable. And though they had all been warned in advance, many of the party¡¯s members fired glances in Claire¡¯s direction.


    No one bowed. Even as they stopped just before the dias, the foreigners remained as they were. That too was an expectation divulged in advance, even if one that demonstrated a lack of respect.


    ¡°Welcome to my castle,¡± said Virillius. His voice was cold and quiet, but it rang throughout the hall. ¡°You must be tired, having come all this way.¡±


    He didn¡¯t bother with an introduction. They knew who he was, and he knew their identities in turn.


    ¡°Not at all,¡± said Arciel. She stepped forward, her lips a calm smile and her crimson eyes alight. ¡°Your concern is well appreciated. It is every bit as generous as your hospitality.¡±


    ¡°It is only a given. We have placed the burden of travel entirely in your hands.¡± A set of stone carts entered the room as he spoke. They navigated their way across the carpet and each parked themselves in front of one of the party¡¯s members, as if presenting the glimmering golden crests on top. ¡°You will be guests of the state for as long as you are in Cadria. These medals will serve as identifiers. Show them to any shopkeepers or merchants whose path you might cross, and you will be granted their wares for free.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Arciel.


    The king nodded. ¡°You need not restrain your purchases on account of those you trade with. While you will not be offering any direct payment, they will claim their remittance from the state. There is, likewise, no limit to your spending. You are free to enjoy yourselves without any concern for reason.¡±


    ¡°It is a wonderful gift,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°I am glad that you see it as such,¡± said Virillius. ¡°Now, to return to the matter of our antagonism, I will be sending a servant to your room later tonight to provide the details in writing once you have settled in. I ask that you jot down your inquiries so I might provide an official, documented response. I would not be against scheduling a formal conference should you prefer an in-person discussion.¡±


    ¡°We shall sort through the necessary information posthaste,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Good. Now, with that settled, I believe there is another matter to address.¡± He took his eyes off of the squid and shifted them to one of the figures behind her. ¡°Allegra.¡±


    Allegra threw back her hood and awkwardly twisted her lips into a smile. ¡°I was hoping you wouldn¡¯t see me.¡±


    ¡°Explain yourself.¡±


    ¡°There is nothing to explain,¡± she said, with a breath. ¡°I don¡¯t have anything to say to you, Virillius.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± His face remained exactly as it was, cold and stoic as ever. ¡°If I must strike you down, then I will. If you are to stand on the side of Cadria¡¯s enemies, then I will show no mercy.¡±


    Allegra smiled, but she said nothing more. Virillius, likewise, refrained from addressing her further.


    He scanned the crowd again instead, his eyes eventually settling on Claire.


    ¡°You stay behind,¡± he said. ¡°The rest of you are free to explore the castle at your leisure. In two hours, there will be a grand feast to celebrate your arrival. Look forward to it. We have prepared only Cadria¡¯s finest.¡±


    He was sending a clear message. The others were to leave.


    And after looking in Claire¡¯s direction to confirm that it was fine, most of the others did just that. Allegra was the only exception. Ignoring Viriilius¡¯ command, the ever-rebellious rabbit remained with Claire and her pets.


    ¡°Anyway, enough stalling. Let¡¯s get to work, Virillius,¡± she said, after waiting for the doors to shut.


    ¡°Work?¡± Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°I thought you were on bad terms.¡±


    ¡°We are,¡± she said. ¡°But if we work together, we can fix your circuits.¡±


    Virillius shook his head. ¡°There¡¯s no point, Allegra.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°You knew how to fix them all this time?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t see any reason to bring it up,¡± he said.


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Because it will cost the homunculus¡¯ life, distilled down to its purest form.¡±

 Chapter 407 - Cadria VIII

    Chapter 407 - Cadria VIII


    A moment of silence followed Virillius¡¯ declaration. Claire narrowed her eyes beneath her helmet, but completely oblivious, Allegra began to speak as she adjusted her glasses.


    ¡°I know that you probably don¡¯t want to give up your freedom, Claire, and while the homunculus¡¯ disappearance will mean that you¡¯ll need to return to your duties, we really should get you fixed as soon as we can. I know decommissioning a sentient homunculus might seem a bit wasteful, but like your father said earlier, its soul will serve as the main ingredient,¡± she said. ¡°Now it¡¯s probably worth noting that this probably won¡¯t work again no matter how many homunculi we make, so you can¡¯t repeat whatever it was that damaged your circuits in the first place. This one was pretty much a miraculous coincidence. The soul fragments that we used to make it were regrown with no deviation, despite only maybe a percent of the matter being yours.¡±


    The rabbit continued to rant until she had to dodge a bonk. The rapid tail strike landed square on the reinforced floor instead and sent a booming echo throughout the throne room.


    ¡°Oh, come on! That was barely a lecture! And I was already done!¡±


    Despite her protests, Claire refused to let up. She elongated her tail and continued to attack.


    ¡°Touch her and I¡¯ll kill you.¡± She didn¡¯t stop to speak until the rabbit was completely out of range.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Allegra blinked. ¡°Where is this coming from?¡± Thoroughly confused, she looked at Virillius, whose face was unchanged as ever.


    ¡°She has the same ability as Constantius and Ferdinand.¡±


    Allegra blinked. ¡°She does?¡±


    ¡°Do you have any other way to explain her reaction?¡± He gestured towards his daughter, who had positioned herself between the witch and the fake. She was hugging Rubia protectively while the homunculus was all smiles. Sylvia had likewise joined them. She had hopped on Claire¡¯s head and struck a pose with her ruffled tail raised high in the air. Her teeth were bared as well, but frankly, she was more adorable than fearsome or ferocious.


    ¡°She didn¡¯t show any signs of it when she was younger,¡± said Allegra.


    ¡°Neither did Constantius.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°The trick that you used to possess the homunculus¡¯ body,¡± said Virillius.


    ¡°Oh. That.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that,¡± said Allegra. ¡°When did you learn to do that?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± It wasn¡¯t exactly a lie. She had started to see through Rubia¡¯s eyes during her time in Llystletein, but she was fairly certain that it worked the same way as visiting the strange man. Like Shoudlersnake and Shoulderhorse, both of whom had been missing since her ascension, the man had been there for as long as she could remember. ¡°I might¡¯ve always known how.¡±


    Allegra sighed and brought a hand to her face. ¡°You should really tell us these things.¡±


    Claire paused for a moment to think. ¡°I did when I was a child. You told me to stop sleep-talking and pay attention.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember that at all,¡± said Allegra.


    ¡°Yes, but it does sound like something that you would say,¡± said Virillius. ¡°Especially if you were trying to give a lecture.¡±


    The rabbit grimaced. ¡°So anyway, moving on, I take it you don¡¯t want to sacrifice the homunculus?¡±


    Claire shook her head, but her opinion was hardly the only one given.


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind,¡± said Rubia, quietly. It took a moment for everyone to process her claim. Neither Virillius nor Allegra were accustomed to her voice, while Claire was left at a loss for words.


    ¡°H-huh? What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± Only Sylvia, who had been silent throughout the exchange, was left to question her intentions.


    ¡°Homunculi are born to serve our masters,¡± said Rubia. She leaned back into the original¡¯s embrace, even though the armour made for a less-than-comfortable hug. ¡°And I love Claire. I would be happy to die if it means that she can be healed.¡±


    ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t,¡± said Claire.


    Rubia tilted her head. ¡°But you¡¯re always in pain. I can feel it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°You can feel it?¡± Allegra furrowed her brow and toyed with her glasses. ¡°Are you sure she has Ferdinand¡¯s ability, Virillius? He never mentioned anything about sharing pain. How do you know it¡¯s not different?¡±


    The king shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t. It¡¯s not like he ever told us the details.¡±


    ¡°Either way, the message is clear, I guess.¡± The rabbit frowned. ¡°We¡¯ll have to look for some other way to fix her.¡±


    ¡°Do we?¡± Virillius brought a hand to his chin. ¡°The way I see it, she¡¯s already on track to fixing herself.¡±


    ¡°I am?¡± said Claire, with a blink.


    ¡°You might¡¯ve needed a hand if you were still as damaged as you were the last time I saw you. But in your current state, it¡¯s beginning to look like your body may very well adapt if you keep gaining levels,¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s a fair chance of a complete restoration in the case you manage to mutate your racial class.¡±


    Claire paused for a moment before catching on. And then, whispering under her breath, she thanked the goddess of order.


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ are you sure?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°Not even ascending fixed her, so I dunno if a regular old mutation will do it.¡±


    ¡°It might,¡± said Allegra. ¡°Mutations are supposed to be the body¡¯s response to stress, and I don¡¯t really see a better way to describe what she¡¯s going through.¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°It¡¯s at least worse than living near a volcano. Still, inducing a mutation is fairly difficult without more time than we have, so I wouldn¡¯t count on it happening,¡± said Allegra.


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ I dunno if it¡¯s actually gonna be that easy. My great grandpa is super good at this kinda stuff, and even he said that she was so busted it¡¯d take him at least a couple months to fix her,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Oh yeah, that reminds me! We¡¯re supposed to visit soon.¡±


    ¡°Either way, if the homunculus is a no-go, then I¡¯ll have to give it another think and see if I can figure anything out,¡± said Allegra. ¡°You might as well try Virillius¡¯ suggestion in the meantime. It¡¯s not like you¡¯ll even have to go out of your way.¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°Despite what I said to Vel¡¯khan¡¯s queen earlier, I suggest you get to it sooner rather than later,¡± said Virillius. ¡°Some of the soldiers are already beginning to suspect that your party is either hiding its power or simply disappointing.¡± He glanced at Sylvia. ¡°She is the only reason that most are believing the former.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± said Virillius, as he brought a hand to his nose. ¡°Why did I ever think that you would?¡± As he stood up from his throne and wandered down the carpet, the king of Cadria began to think of the drink he would drown himself in that night. For while he was glad to see his daughter, even if she wasn¡¯t in quite the best of health, he knew better than anyone that any single conversation with her was as tiresome as a full day¡¯s work.


    ___


    Elsewhere in Cadria, Lucius enjoyed a moment of tranquility. He sat by a stream with his arms and legs crossed, his ears focused on nothing but the flow of water. He was one with nature, one with the environment. Birds landed on his head, deer nipped at the grass by his heels, and even the ever-shy pangolins ventured from the bushes to join him in his silence.


    Or at least, that would have been the case had he not won the grand prize during his time in Brinsidia. Instead, he found his morning routine denied. The woman he had reluctantly bedded¡ªit would be more accurate to say that she forced him¡ªwas kicking up a racket as she drove her weapon into the river and ¡°fished¡± up their morning meal.


    Her presence made it almost impossible to focus on the water, and none of the local wildlife dared to consider approaching. Agrippina was a ravenous beast, and there was hardly such a thing as a critter with any intention of becoming feed for a rabid reindeer. Still, Lucius was grateful. She served as a test of his abilities, and he knew that if he could be tranquil in her presence, then he was sure to maintain his calm no matter the trials ahead.


    Or at least that was what he told himself as he continued with his morning training. After all, she was a part of his god¡¯s guidance, one of the many unavoidable events that he had been foretold. And in spite of his initial impression, it wasn¡¯t like it was all bad. Agrippina¡¯s lackadaisical attitude was one of the only reasons that she had agreed to the path that he intended to follow.


    ¡°Breakfast is ready.¡± The cervitaur in question walked over from the fireplace and handed him a half-stripped branch with three fish on the end.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Lucius. He had already given up on reminding her not to bother him during his training. The lesson simply never stuck in her mind, and it wasn¡¯t like he had been all too focused to begin with.


    Most convincing of all, however, were the fish themselves. They were surprisingly well cooked; they were perfectly gutted and all of the inedible bones had somehow been removed without compromising their structural integrity. The seasoning was especially wonderful for something so impromptu. Agrippina had found some wild herbs, and most notably some wild garlic at just the right age to be harvested.


    ¡°And one for you too.¡± A second skewer was handed to the tiger that sat beneath the thoraen fighter.


    Roumalou accepted the meal with a happy ¡°aroo¡± and swallowed it in one breath before raising his chin and allowing Agrippina to give him a scritch. Like his master, he hadn¡¯t been quite so keen on her recruitment at first, but he soon warmed up after they spent some time together. In fact, he was almost finding it difficult to decide where exactly his loyalties lay. Lucius had been the one to defeat and subdue him, certainly, but Agrippina¡¯s fingers were heavenly. She was so good at scratching that he couldn¡¯t stop himself from bugging her whenever he happened to need one. Perhaps that too stemmed from the dexterity that was a sword dancer¡¯s forte.


    ¡°So, any news?¡± she asked. ¡°You said your god was going to tell you soon, right?¡±


    The group had camped by the river for three days after eliminating a group of highwaymen. The bandits in question were part of an up-and-coming cult that Lucius had been tasked with exterminating. The task wasn¡¯t one that would earn him much fame, as the cultists had yet to spread very far, but the dark idol they worshipped was on the verge of breaking its way into reality. The army would ultimately step in and eliminate the false deity even if he failed his mission, but without his aid, the citizens were sure to suffer the consequences.


    ¡°He told me everything we needed in a revelation last night,¡± said Lucius. ¡°We¡¯ll find the cultists if we follow the river, but we aren¡¯t supposed to attack them just yet.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re supposed to wait until the dark god manifests.¡±


    ¡°You sure you heard him right?¡± Agrippina scratched the back of her head.


    ¡°Aroo,¡± said Roumalou.


    ¡°What did he say?¡± asked Agrippina. Though Roumalou was a beast acknowledged by the god of the hunt, he was ultimately unable to speak. It was only through telepathy that he could convey his thoughts to his master.


    ¡°He said that he was given the same instructions,¡± said Lucius. ¡°We¡¯re to approach the dark god with the utmost sincerity.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure? That just seems like a waste of time.¡±


    ¡°The false idol they worship is Olethra, one of the few true fallen gods,¡± said Lucius. ¡°The only reason she lies dormant is because she¡¯s always bored. She¡¯ll join us if we can convince her that we¡¯ll be able to keep her entertained.¡±


    ¡°That part¡¯ll be easy,¡± a fierce grin spread its way across Agrippina¡¯s lips, ¡°seeing as how we¡¯re trying to kill ourselves a princess.¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t say that out loud,¡± said Lucius. ¡°You never know who¡¯s listening.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be silly. We¡¯re in the middle of a forest,¡± said Agrippina.


    ¡°That¡¯s not the point. I just think it¡¯s better to stay in the habit of keeping your mouth shut.¡±


    ¡°Aroo,¡± agreed Roumalou.


    ¡°You¡¯re worrying too much,¡± said Agrippina. Having already polished off her own skewer and fed Roumalou his seconds, she climbed onto the tiger''s back and threw her arms around Lucius¡¯ shoulders. ¡°Besides, none of the idiots listening in have more than a minute to live.¡±


    She kicked off the massive tiger¡¯s back, leaving him to aroo sadly at the mess that her hooves created before landing in the river¡¯s shallows. With her weapon still undrawn, Agrippina danced alongside the falling leaves, almost blending into them with her skirt aflutter.


    It was hardly the sort of graceful display that one would expect from a high level sword dancer, but a set of simple twirls, innocent as that of a fawn amidst her first river. The impression was only strengthened by her laughter, pure as the clear water that splashed with each spin.


    Her eyes were full of joy. Beneath the morning light, each was as bright as a lapis. Or at least that was how they appeared before her enemies were caught in her sights.


    They turned a bright, unnatural gold as she vanished from her targets¡¯ perception. She next appeared in front of the strongest-looking man in the group, a gruff cottontail with a beard as long as his body. He reached for the blades on his waist, but he was dead by the time he drew them.


    One by one, she cut them down, stopping only as one survivor remained. The man stumbled forward, his mouth agape in horror as he confirmed the state of his companions. All of them were level 850. With their numbers bolstered by the might of their dark god, they should have been able to overpower anyone that fell short of an aspect.


    And yet, they lay defeated, their breasts ripped open and their faces stabbed through.


    ¡°Tell me.¡± Their murderer flicked their blood and gore off her weapon with a terrifying, innocent smile. ¡°Where do you keep your base?¡±


    Though certainly glad to have her as an ally¡ªshe was much more frightening than she had proven herself in the arena¡ªLucius was stuck cradling his head.


    He already knew where the cultists were located, and the last thing he needed was for her to kill them. The fewer of them there were, the longer it would take for their god to awaken.

 Chapter 408 - Amidst the Valencian Wind

    Chapter 408 - Amidst the Valencian Wind


    The party¡¯s first day in Valencia came and went. They had a grand feast, enjoyed the castle¡¯s private baths, and watched the stars above. The space that they had been assigned was designed specifically for large parties. Just like the jail that they had been confined in, when they were captured by Pollux¡¯s army, it featured a large common area in which the Vel¡¯khanese could freely intermingle. Of course, it was much more luxurious than the prison, but not in the gaudy way that one typically associated with royalty. They were simply high-quality, crafted of the finest materials and engineered to last a lifetime.


    The carpet was soft enough to put most beds to shame and the sofas brought more comfort than a lover¡¯s embrace. The tables were modest and well-made; the designs themselves were almost ordinary, but that was precisely why they remained tasteful. The perfect craftsmanship that went into their creation shouted the same message as everything else. Even without much in the way of gold trim, even with the walls only barely covered in art, it came off as luxury incarnate.


    Two hallways sat within the space, with restrooms and bedrooms on both sides. The left was set up for the party¡¯s gentlemen, and the right for its ladies. Both contained far too many bedrooms for the given headcount; there were over ten private spaces in each wing, all of which had bathrooms, closets, and dressing rooms attached.


    There were private balconies as well, just in case one needed a getaway from the public space. Of course, the architects had accounted for the fact that anyone who used the veranda in such a manner would still be in close physical proximity to anyone else with the same idea. The solution was the artifact into the railings. With a simple pull of the lever, one could create an illusion that would hide the balcony from the rest of the world and similarly obscure all of the others.


    The Vel¡¯khanese, however, had no use for the feature. They were out on the common area¡¯s balcony with wine glasses in hand¡ªthe kitchen that came with their room was stocked with some of Cadria¡¯s finest¡ªand their eyes on the stars.


    Half the party was already completely wasted, including the fox, who was puking off the edge of the veranda much to a particularly unlucky guard¡¯s dismay. Claire had half a mind to ditch the group so she could spend time with Rubia instead, but there was no way for her to do it without either falling asleep or getting caught. And though the beds were heavenly, she wasn¡¯t quite keen on either just yet. The sun had only just set, and more importantly, she had the sneaking suspicion that her father would summon her at some point or other.


    In the first place, Rubia was most likely still in the middle of homework. Even if Claire did opt to fall asleep and throw her mind to the other side of the castle, her sister would certainly be too busy to relax for another half hour. And even then, it wasn¡¯t like she would have much time to frolic. She needed to go to bed so she could attend her lessons early the next morning. If anything, it was more reasonable for Rubia to be the one to escape her body.


    Ignoring the drunks rambling all around her, Claire turned her eyes to the homunculus¡¯ window and affirmed her suspicions. There was a bright glow from within, a flickering candlelight that otherwise fought back against the darkness and allowed her to focus on her studies. Of course, the light sources were no ordinary candles. Like the ones atop the chandelier that crowned the guest room, the false princess¡¯ artifacts came equipped with all sorts of enchantments.


    One could easily call to question the need for candles in the first place. After all, with the power of magic, any half-decent artificer could easily construct a non-consumable light source, perhaps powered by the ambient magic emitted by the local ley lines. And in fact, items of that exact description could be found all over. Some even took the usual candle form and came to life by way of fire.


    So why then did the castle refuse to use them?


    As with everything else, it was a matter of quality. Traditionally crafted candles carried refined scents and their heat served to combat the natural cold that came with the castle¡¯s stone construction. Their one weakness was a lack of light, but a few simple runes sufficed to turn up the luminosity and eliminate the flaw outright. And while they were certainly pricier, on account of their lack of permanence, it wasn¡¯t like they were overwhelmingly so.


    It was as her mind casually tossed such thoughts around that Claire happened to notice something peculiar in the distance. She only caught a small glimpse at first, but a second look confirmed her suspicions. The shadows were shifting unnaturally right under Rubia¡¯s window.


    To imagine that someone was targeting her was a stretch to say the least. The princess¡¯ room was located on the twenty fourth floor and the suspicious silhouettes were on the ground. More importantly, they were on castle grounds. There was no way for anyone to get past security, let alone someone incompetent enough to be noticed in the dark from a full kilometre away. Still, Claire set down her wine glass and silently slipped away from the party.


    Transforming her helmet to cover her lips again, she sprouted a pair of wings, abandoned her inebriated accompaniments, and glided across the sky. She prioritized silence over speed, though it seemed like a needless concern given the way the suspicious centaur was bumbling about. He was trying and failing to scale the wall with a bow on his back and three arrows between his teeth.


    He was struggling on his way up, attempting to surmount the impossible height with his paltry upper body strength alone. It was a pathetic display, so pathetic in fact that Claire almost stopped to watch him, as did the other person to arrive on the scene.


    ¡°Is this normal?¡± She spoke in her fake androgynous voice, albeit more to attest to her innocence and affirm that she was not the dysfunctional invader¡¯s master. If not for the situation she was caught in, she would have preferred to stay silent. Talking to Durham was near the top of the list of things she never wanted to do again.


    ¡°Not really.¡± The princess¡¯ guard scratched the back of his head as he continued to watch the man climb.


    He was exactly as she remembered him. Though his blood was entirely equine, Durham was a giant muscular specimen standing at over four metres. He had a head of short, black hair cut in the standard military style¡ªhis personal preference was to let everything grow out, but he changed his stance after his long hair was used against him in combat¡ªand his face was covered in an eternally dopey smile.


    If not for his size, he likely wouldn¡¯t have left too much of an impression. He was ridiculously lazy. He had been standing just outside the princess¡¯ room, and though he had clearly noticed the intruder much earlier, it wasn¡¯t until Claire started her approach that he reluctantly made his way over. And even then, it was more likely for appearances than it was an attempt to make himself useful.


    But as much as she criticized him, it wasn¡¯t like she didn¡¯t understand his reasoning. He wasn¡¯t even the only guard that defaulted to sitting around and watching. There were half a dozen observing the situation from afar. They weren¡¯t just watching because they were unconcerned for the princess¡¯ safety, but rather because, like Claire, they were convinced that the intruder was sure to fail.


    He was already slipping on the second floor even though it was curved at an incline that made it easy to climb. It didn¡¯t take long for him to slip. He fell from the third floor, broke two of his legs, and devolved into a cursing, crying mess.


    ¡°Are you just going to leave him there?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Yeah, pretty much,¡± said Durham. He stretched his arms overhead and yawned. ¡°He¡¯ll probably crawl somewhere we can¡¯t pretend to ignore him by morning.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°How did he even get in the castle?¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t tell ya.¡± The centaur tucked his hands into his pockets as he slowly drifted back to his post. Thanks to his owl-like wings, his departure was almost perfectly silent. The rest of the crowd was far less so; their flaps were loud enough to draw the intruder¡¯s attention, and drive him to scream for help. And as not all the soldiers were quite as numb as Durham, he was soon taken away so he could be treated and jailed.


    Claire quickly left the scene as well, again, purely on account of avoiding suspicion. But despite her plentiful precautions, she soon found that she was being tailed.


    Durham must have thought that he was being subtle. He followed from a few hundred meters away and kept out of sight. For someone with no rogue-based classes, it was an impressive feat of stealth, but Claire was kept well aware.


    His gaze was at fault. It followed her with pinpoint precision, and she could feel its owner relocating every time she got too far.


    It didn''t take long for her to grow sick of it. Landing in one of the courtyards, she spun around and perfectly locked her eyes on his. He considered hiding for a moment, but realising that it was futile, as her eyes followed him into the shadows, he stepped out from his hiding spot with a chuckle.


    He fluttered his way towards her with his hands in his pockets and the usual sleepy look on his face. The man was known for dressing in full armour¡ªhe used his helmet to hide his face so he could sleep on the job more easily¡ªbut the only piece he had on his person was the breastplate half hanging from his chest. It made some degree of sense, seeing as how he was off duty at night, but one had to wonder why he bothered to grab any armour at all in the first place.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t think you¡¯d see me,¡± he said. He twisted his lips into a bit of a grin. ¡°You have eyes on the back of your head or something?¡±


    Claire frowned. The last thing she wanted was to catch his attention. Speaking to him proved a risk in and of itself. He was a few shields short of a wall, but like Allegra, he had been with her throughout her earlier years.


    ¡°Why are you following me?¡±


    ¡°I dunno, why¡¯d you make yourself seem so suspicious?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you mean.¡±


    ¡°Well, you seemed awfully interested in our princess¡¯ room for a visitor,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯ve had your eyes on it for the last half hour.¡±


    Claire almost clicked her tongue. She had known that the guards were watching, but she hadn¡¯t realised that he had been one of them. Perhaps she could have picked him out with her magnified vision if she actively returned all of the guards¡¯ gazes, but that would have been far too suspicious¡ªnot that it had really made a difference in the end.


    ¡°I just happened to look that way is all,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± He floated even closer. From point blank, his massive frame was even more imposing. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know who you are or what you want, but listen closely. I¡¯m only going to say this once.¡± His voice was a low growl. ¡°Cause any trouble, and I¡¯ll shove your face down your throat.¡±


    It was hard to fight back the urge to laugh. Fortunately, her armour made it so she didn¡¯t have to control her expression. Biting down on her tongue was enough to keep her emotions from leaking. She knew he was being serious, but knowing his history, she struggled to see him as anything but a bumbling buffoon.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take that to heart,¡± she said.


    She spun around and, ignoring the guard¡¯s gaze, started back towards her room. She would have liked to arrive undisturbed, but to her dismay, he continued to follow from a distance, scratching his head and beard in tandem as he observed her from all different angles.


    ¡°What?¡± Eventually, she turned to face him again, the tone of her voice shifted just far enough to mask her tension with annoyance.


    ¡°Dunno,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure what it is, but something about you seems a bit off.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t care. Stop following me.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so cold.¡± He suddenly flew in front of her and cut her off. ¡°Times like these, a little spar tends to go a long way. What do you say?¡±


    ¡°Not interested.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on. It won¡¯t take long,¡± he said. ¡°Just one quick round¡¯ll do.¡±


    ¡°I''m not interested.¡±


    ¡°I just want to see how much stronger you''ve gotten.¡±


    Claire paused for a moment to eye the centaur. ¡°Have we met before?¡±


    ¡°You can stop pretending, Claire. I know it''s you in there.¡± The smirk that appeared on his face was filled to the brim with confidence.


    ¡°Who?¡± The lyrkress cocked her head as innocently as she could. She was barely acting; the reaction was no different from the one she would have given had her identity been public. One could easily call her methods into question. After all, she could have easily assumed any number of personas and blown him off in any which way, but it wouldn''t have mattered. Just as how she could interpret his body language and see through his bluff, his bestial intuition had marked her identity.


    ¡°Virillius already filled me in.¡±


    ¡°Virwhollius?¡± Still, she kept her mask firmly on her face. His conclusion, like hers, stemmed markedly from the realm of speculation.


    The guard cocked his brow. ¡°You know, Virillius. The king? Your father?¡±


    ¡°You must have the wrong person. Neither of my fathers are named Virillius.¡±


    ¡°Fathers? Like, plural?¡± Durham stared for a few seconds before shaking his head. ¡°Goddamn it, Claire. Knock it off. Just come clean already.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure who this ¡®Claire,¡¯ is. My name is¡­¡± She paused for a second and very clearly directed her gaze at one of the cottontails in the middle of maintaining the courtyards. ¡°Rabbi T¡¯gardener.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Oh, come on, don¡¯t give me that shit,¡± said Durham. He pulled his eyes from the gardener and returned them to the snakemoose. ¡°Even I can tell that you just made that name up. Actually, wait. Claire would probably come up with something more clever.¡± He brought a hand to his chin. ¡°Wait, does that mean you aren¡¯t her? That can¡¯t be right, can it? My gut¡¯s never wrong when it comes to this shit. Wait, she was literally just studying,¡± he glanced at the room. ¡°Actually, she¡¯s still studying. What the hell? This doesn¡¯t even make any sense. Why did I even¡­¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me,¡± said Rabbi, ¡°I have places to be.¡±


    She ducked out of the way, once to get past him, and then again as he suddenly reached for the helmet that masked her face.


    ¡°Why¡¯d you dodge?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I should be the one asking questions. What do you think you''re doing?¡±


    ¡°I just¡­ need to see your face.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather you didn¡¯t. I was horribly disfigured in an accident, on account of a cursed torch.¡±


    ¡°Show me.¡± He reached for the helm again, faster than he did the first time, but Rabbi pulled back just far enough to escape his reach. ¡°God damn it! Show me already!¡±


    ¡°I will report you to the nearest servant if you continue to assault me. I can¡¯t help but wonder what your king would think, if he found out you were harassing one of his guests.¡±


    Durham flinched.


    ¡°N-not like it even matters,¡± he said. ¡°Virillius is pretty lenient. M-most I¡¯ll get is a scolding.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll make sure to tell him you said that when I report you.¡±


    ¡°S-sure, go for it.¡± Sweat started to form on the man¡¯s brow. His eyes were spinning, practically swimming like he was trapped in a whirlpool.


    ¡°While I¡¯m at it, I¡¯ll tell him you snuck peeks through the princess¡¯ doorway while she was bathing.¡±


    ¡°By Vella¡¯s spear, are you trying to get me killed!?¡± He sighed.


    ¡°So you don¡¯t deny what you did.¡±


    The man twitched. There was a brief pause as she fixed her gaze on his clearly guilty face. ¡°Look, you probably don¡¯t get it ¡®cause you¡¯re not from around here, but her goddamn ears, man. They¡¯re ju¡ªhey, wait a fucking second! You aren¡¯t tricking me, Claire! I know it¡¯s you under there!¡±


    But when he raised his eyes, he found that the lyrkress had already slipped away.


    She was more than halfway across the sky. He could have still caught her if he felt like it, but after a moment¡¯s consideration, he decided that it wasn¡¯t worth the effort. Simply shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, he returned to his room¡ªthe one right across from the princess¡¯¡ªand resigned himself to considering the next day¡¯s troubles.

 Chapter 409 - Amidst the Valencian Wind II

    Chapter 409 - Amidst the Valencian Wind II


    When Claire awoke in the morning, it was to the steady pattering of a heavy storm. Though winter was still a little while off, the signs were already afoot. There were bits of hail mixed into the downpour and the ground was covered as much in sleet as it was in water.


    The storm made it difficult to discern the time of day at a glance. Her room was almost as dark as it was in the middle of the night, courtesy of the enchanted curtains hanging in front of her windows. Sylvia was, likewise, still asleep in her arms. The scent of booze leaked from her lips with every breath. Though that hardly came as a surprise. The fox had always been a lightweight and Cadrian liquors trended far stronger than not.


    Perhaps that was why her form seemed a little strange. She almost looked like Lana; her body was far less vulpine than usual, with a mostly human-like shape and a flatter snout, but neither was she quite as elvish as she usually was when she didn¡¯t feel like being a fox. Her frame was covered with fur¡ªthat much was immediately apparent from her stark nudity¡ªand her teeth were sharp as daggers.


    She was mostly curled up, with her arms around Claire¡¯s waist and her feet looping far enough around that she clasped the snakemoose¡¯s opposite shoulder between her knees. Her grasp was awfully tight; it took shrinking down to her smallest size for Claire to escape the death-snuggle.


    Sylvia immediately began to stir, stopping only as she was given a Boris-shaped replacement.


    Ignoring Starrgort, who lazily waved good morning and jumped off his nightstand, Claire walked up to the mirror and quickly replaced her nightgown with the usual armour. It had long become routine enough that her disguise was never imperfect, but she checked her work for inconsistencies regardless before stepping into the common area.


    Chloe aside, there were no maids or butlers within the suite itself¡ªit was meant to be private and free from prying eyes¡ªbut Claire could hear them just outside the door. They were standing by so they could readily attend to any needs the Vel¡¯khanese expressed.


    Walking down the hall and entering the common room, Claire found most of the party¡¯s girls already wide awake. Lana was sitting at one of the tables with her back straight and a steaming cup clasped in her hands, Arciel was standing out on the balcony, leaning on the railing and gazing off into the distance from beyond the reach of the storm, while Chloe stood beside her with an umbrella in hand despite being asleep on her feet. It was a mystery how the gale winds had failed to carry her away. Allegra was the only one who wasn¡¯t accounted for. She had drunkenly run off to her old lab in the middle of the night.


    ¡°Morning,¡± said Lana, as she nursed her coffee.


    ¡°Good morning, Claire,¡± said Arciel. Her voice was quiet, and not just because of the thunderstorm. It almost seemed devoid of energy and gloomy as the weather.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± said Claire. She took a moment to observe the squid¡¯s dead expression before continuing. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    Arciel cast her gaze downwards. She didn¡¯t say much until she buried her face in her arms. ¡°I was provided with a fresh set of clothes.¡±


    Claire blinked for a second before carefully scanning the squid. ¡°You look fine. They¡¯re identical to your old clothes.¡±


    ¡°They are not,¡± said the squid. ¡°It pains me greatly to admit this, but they have proven to be a perfect fit.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see the problem,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°That is precisely the problem!¡± said Arciel. ¡°The set I was provided appears slightly larger than what I am accustomed to wearing.¡±


    ¡°I told you, Ciel, you¡¯re fine,¡± said Chloe, with a yawn. ¡°You¡¯re not any fatter. Your breasts have just grown exactly 3.172 percent larger.¡±


    ¡°That remains equally as problematic. This form of mine is artificial, born entirely of a racial ability. Once a form has been registered, it shall remain precisely as is regardless of when and how it is taken thereafter,¡± said Arciel. ¡°It is unfeasible for it to deviate lest I have suffered a blow to my core functions. I believe I may be in the midst of a cognitive decline.¡±


    ¡°It really isn¡¯t as big of a deal as you¡¯re making it out to be,¡± said Chloe. ¡°Your clothes probably just shrunk. We¡¯ve been on the road for months.¡±


    ¡°The dress I used for comparison was retrieved directly from Vel¡¯khan during our meeting with Liliya, and it revealed itself to be too tight from the moment of its retrieval.¡±


    ¡°T-that¡¯s just because the girls have been washing your clothes, even though you haven¡¯t been wearing them. It¡¯s probably just shrunk because of all the extra care and attention.¡±


    ¡°Whyever would they have done that? I see no valid reason.¡±


    ¡°M-my orders,¡± said Chloe. ¡°I told them that they had to take extra good care of all your clothes so that you¡¯d be as pretty as ever by the time you got back. W-we just haven¡¯t really been replacing them as often because I¡¯m responsible for all the shopping and I never asked anyone else to take over.¡±


    Arciel looked at her skeptically. ¡°But did you not just state that the size of my breasts has increased?¡±


    ¡°I was just kidding.¡±


    ¡°Despite providing such a specific number?¡±


    ¡°Only because I thought it would make me sound more believable,¡± she said, with a forced laugh. ¡°Come on, Ciel. I know I can be a little horny sometimes, but there¡¯s no way I could possibly tell exactly how much your chest has grown. And besides, even if I could, it wouldn¡¯t be to three decimal places. That¡¯d just be ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°I suppose it would,¡± said Arciel. She nodded to herself. ¡°I should have seen through the ruse no later than the moment you listed the first decimal point.¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah.¡±


    ¡°However, I must admit that my reservations remain.¡± The witch craned her neck towards the lyrkress. ¡°Claire. Does Chloe speak the truth?¡±


    Claire paused for a moment to tear her gaze away from the storm. At a glance, Arciel seemed genuinely concerned, though it was more the maid¡¯s expression that happened to catch the lyrkress¡¯ attention. She put her hands together, closed one eye, and playfully begged in a way that was more irritating than not.


    ¡°...Yes,¡± lied the snoose. Knowing that the maid had come in contact with Alfred, it wasn¡¯t too difficult to imagine why the size of Arciel¡¯s chest had changed.


    ¡°Thank goodness,¡± said Arciel, with a sigh.


    ¡°R-right, so now that we¡¯ve cleared that up, why don¡¯t we go out for a bit of a walk?¡± asked Chloe. ¡°We didn¡¯t get to see too much of the castle yesterday.¡±


    ¡°There isn¡¯t much to see,¡± said Claire. ¡°It¡¯s just the castle. Yours is more interesting.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°It most certainly is not,¡± said Arciel. ¡°They are on two entirely different scales.¡±


    ¡°Maybe. But everything here is boring. I liked how your throne room doubled as an aquarium.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, but surely the Valencian castle bears its own main attraction?¡±


    Claire paused for a moment. ¡°Not really. The most interesting things we have are the barracks and the training grounds.¡±


    ¡°I suppose they would make for interesting destinations in their own right,¡± said Arciel. ¡°At the very least, they would make for excellent windows into the local culture.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve already seen the local culture. We¡¯ve been in more brawls than cities.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, but the source is certain to provide a new and more insightful perspective.¡±


    ¡°I want to go too,¡± said Lana. ¡°It¡¯ll be good to see them. So we can know what we¡¯re up against.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not a bad idea, but I doubt they¡¯ll be doing anything worth watching in weather like this,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°The weather is irrelevant,¡± said Claire, with a sigh. ¡°Follow me. I know the shortest route.¡±


    She pushed the door open, dismissed the maids who offered to guide them, and started down the hall. Despite having never lived in the castle herself, she knew it like the back of her hand. It was mainly her many-times-removed cousins that had dwelled within it. Prior to her father¡¯s crowning, Ferdinand¡¯s descendants had treated it like a family home.


    Claire was the only scion that her father had produced, but Ferdinand¡¯s line was thriving. Though they had been forced to leave the castle after her father took the throne, it wasn¡¯t like they were much worse off¡ªthey had been relocated into an estate in the city¡¯s most luxurious district.


    She almost wanted to try paying them a visit. It had been quite some time since she last teased Octavia, but such an act would surely blow her cover.


    Though the castle was massive and filled with hidden, less-than-obvious pathways, it didn¡¯t take long for the girls to reach their central destination. Unlike the king¡¯s quarters, the training grounds were never meant to be obscured. The soldiers had their dorms scattered all over and they needed to be able to reach it as readily and painlessly as possible.


    The practice ground was a massive outdoor complex trapped between four of the castle¡¯s outer walls. Had there been any seats, it would have effectively functioned as a private colosseum, only it was even more advanced courtesy of the military-exclusive technologies on site. For one, the terraformers were networked. They were configured in such a way that they could freely interface and either transform the whole area into a single large biome or produce a number of smaller zones where the soldiers could prepare for specific scenarios.


    It was early enough in the day that the place was simply packed with soldiers. They were all in the midst of their morning routines, going about their drills as their instructors wandered the lines. It appeared as would a pointless exercise¡ªin the palace, there wasn¡¯t a single soldier so unskilled that their form required correction¡ªbut it remained a staple part of their schedule.


    The purpose was twofold. The more well-known reason was that it was an exercise in discipline. It reinforced the authority of the ranks and ensured a military-minded attitude. But perhaps more importantly, it aided the soldiers in raising their skill levels even when they were unable to engage in mindless slaughter.


    Having made no effort to go unspotted, the girls were discovered as soon as they entered the space. The instructors exchanged glances and hand signals, with the closest, a thorae by the name of Tetraites, eventually heaving a sigh and lumbering his way over.


    Though the old bee-ogre¡¯s frame was covered in heavy armour, his steps were as light as a fairy¡¯s; if not for the water and slush that pooled in his wake, his prints would have been impossible to detect. The display of finesse stood in stark contrast to his gruff demeanour, but such was the norm for those who operated in intelligence. The old thoraen warrior himself was no longer strictly beholden to the department, however. His name and face were too well-known. It was really the fault of his achievements. In his younger years, he was hailed as the general¡¯s dagger, for he had often joined Virillius on the battlefield whenever he needed a blade to silence a hidden commander.


    In his retirement, he became one of the many veterans responsible for training the youth, though the rumors around the castle suggested that he was likely moonlighting as the nation''s spymaster as well. The position was certainly not vacant, but no one knew its holder¡¯s identity and there was hardly a better candidate than the man previously placed in charge of House Augustus¡¯ secret operations.


    The only contenders were those who had filled similar roles before him, but such an option was simply untenable. It was not only their lack of trustworthiness¡ªthey had aided Ferdinand in masking Constantius¡¯ survival¡ªbut also the fact that the entire division had upped and vanished. There were a few vague hints as to where they might have gone, but Virillius had declared that they weren¡¯t worth chasing. He certainly didn¡¯t like the idea of letting them roam free, but his forces were already spread too thin.


    They needed to keep a strict eye on the western border.


    The alliance that lay beyond it had recently started to stir with talks of champions and heroes. And in reality, some of their members had suddenly spiked in power as new dungeons sprang up throughout the land. It wasn¡¯t the most surprising development. Cadria was hardly the only nation to border the Langgjberns. The range was wide and the other lands in its proximity were just as hazardous as those of the horse, rabbit, and bee people¡¯s bitter north.


    ¡°Hey,¡± said the supposed spymaster. ¡°You guys are the guests, right? How¡¯d you end up over here?¡±


    ¡°We wished to see the training grounds,¡± said Arciel. ¡°And perhaps the barracks as well, if we are so permitted.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but how¡¯d you manage to figure out where it was?¡± grumbled the man. ¡°You know what? Whatever, it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± He started walking back towards the grounds whilst beckoning the party to follow with one of his lanky arms. ¡°There isn¡¯t much to see. I doubt we can put up much of a decent exhibition until Durham gets here in another half-hour or so,¡± he said. ¡°Oh, and Durham¡¯s one of the seven. He¡¯s strong enough that he was made the princess¡¯ guard.¡±


    For some inexplicable reason, Claire suddenly found herself beholden to three sets of Vel¡¯khanese gazes. Tetraites joined them, casting a sidelong glance that she continued to nonchalantly ignore.


    ¡°So anyway.¡± The thorae feigned a cough. ¡°As I was trying to say earlier, there isn¡¯t too much to see, but I don¡¯t mind giving you a quick tour and explanation.¡±


    The latter part was clearly a lie. The man¡¯s twitchy smile and his completely empty eyes screamed that he wanted nothing more than for them to decline so he could return to his duties. And that was precisely why Claire happily accepted his offer.


    ¡°Please. We would appreciate it.¡±


    Tetraites cast a hollow, spiteful look into the slit of Claire¡¯s helmet, but she pretended not to notice. ¡°Of course,¡± he said. ¡°How could I possibly refuse?¡±


    Still completely and very obviously miffed, he walked towards the control zone established by one of the active terraformers and began an explanation on its workings and practical applications.


    As the culprit who had more or less demanded the explanation, Claire soon zoned out and stopped paying attention. She eyed the training soldiers instead, particularly those who had moved from forms to duels. Most were surprisingly easy to keep up with, though that was half because of the change in the spread of skill levels. Before her father took over, it was only the royal guard that used the palace¡¯s training grounds. But with the general ascended to the Cadrian throne, the exclusive practice grounds had been quickly repurposed. Unlike the ducal manor, which only had enough space for the most elite, the castle was spacious enough that it supported nearly all the capital¡¯s troops.


    There were a few, however, that proved concerningly difficult to watch. Most of the elites were at or above the replacement Pollux¡¯s level, and they threw deadly attacks without any concern for each other¡¯s lives. That wasn¡¯t to say that they were uncaring monsters. Veteran soldiers were simply difficult to put down by oneself given the extent of their survivability, and they trusted each other enough to avoid any deathblows before they landed on target.


    Claire continued to observe them until Durham finally showed up. It looked like he had just come out of a meeting, as he was accompanied by Allegra, Rubia, and even her father.


    Having spotted the Vel¡¯khanese brigade even before entering the courtyard, they soon walked their way over, with her father in the lead.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± he said, in his usual cold voice. ¡°Are you here to observe?¡±


    ¡°Good morning, King Virillius, Princess Claire,¡± said Arciel. ¡°It is as you have surmised. We have to see the root of Cadrian culture.¡±


    ¡°Then I will endeavour to meet your expectations.¡± He paused for a second before turning to his accompanying subordinate. ¡°Durham, with me. We will be using field eight.¡±


    Durham cracked his neck and stretched his shoulders as a grin appeared on his face. ¡°Sure thing.¡±


    His giddy steps completely devoid of their usual indolence, he grabbed a pair of spears off of the rack, and after throwing one in Virillius¡¯ direction, trotted over to the eighth arena.


    He didn¡¯t care much for the fact that he was being made into a spectacle.


    All that mattered to him was the chance to duel his master. A rare opportunity to fight hard enough to fully exhaust his strength.

 Chapter 410 - Amidst the Valencian Wind III

    Chapter 410 - Amidst the Valencian Wind III


    A cylindrical, roofless shield formed around the arena as Durham and Virillius each took their places fifteen paces from the center. The men raised their weapons as they reached the standard positions, and by assuming their stances, beckoned silence from the training grounds¡¯ observers. Every maid, butler, foreigner, and soldier dropped what they were doing to focus on the spar.


    It wasn¡¯t because it was a rare event. In fact, duels between Virillius and Durham were common in spite of the former duke¡¯s propensity to train by his lonesome. There was one a month on average, and it drew a crowd each time. Some of the observers used the high-level fights to further their own prowess, making note of actions and reactions as sources of inspiration. But for most, it was simply a source of entertainment.


    The people loved to speculate on the pair¡¯s relative strength and the direction it trended, even with a paltry understanding of the various techniques and their implications. In their defence, the battles were almost impossible for the layman to interpret. They couldn¡¯t be blamed for being unable to follow Durham¡¯s movements when he kicked off the ground with enough force to leave a crater.


    For most of the audience, he may as well have disappeared. The only evidence of his dash was the deafening crack that followed. The impact could hardly be interpreted as the sound of wood on wood. It was far too loud, ringing closer to the destruction of a castle¡¯s gate than a clash of non-lethal weapons.


    And yet, Virillius stood his ground. He simply lifted his spear to catch Durham¡¯s attack before returning a swift counter that claimed the horse-man¡¯s shoulder.


    The strike was true. Though unpowered by anything but brute strength, it glided through Durham¡¯s flesh and bone with little to no resistance. Still, the centaurian warrior continued his assault. He lowered his stance and immediately transitioned into a horizontal swipe of the spear. It was backed by all the power that his torso could muster and further sped up with a twist of the hips.


    For all his efforts, he received a kick to the gut. Virillius¡¯ foot was driven through his stomach and into his ribcage before his spear even came close to proving itself a threat.


    Durham tumbled through the air. His organs spilled all over the battlegrounds as he spiraled out of control, but completely unconcerned, he grew them back, flapped his wings, and bore down on his master like a rabid dog. He became a blur of blades, throwing out a series of strikes each wilder and more bestial than the last.


    Virillius, on the other hand, stayed calm as ever as he denied the assault that flew his way. The overhead swing was countered with a kick to the shins, the sideways swing with a prod to the chest, and the spin kick with an overhead smash. Every attack dug deep into Durham¡¯s flesh, more ripping and tearing than cutting.


    It was Durham¡¯s own erratic movements that wrought the extra damage.


    But to the centaur, it was all irrelevant. His flesh regrew as quickly as Virillius spirited it away.


    The exchange lasted for a full fifteen strikes before Durham finally saw an opening. Slamming his foot into the ground, he obliterated his master¡¯s footing. Virillius was forced to deploy his wings to maintain his balance. It was a brief moment, but the window between the ground¡¯s destruction and the king¡¯s first flap allowed him to land a blow on target.


    His spearhead crossed Virillius¡¯ chest and left a bright red gash.


    It was a clear mark of success.


    But so too did it crown his failure.


    Virillius¡¯ own spear raked its way across Durham¡¯s neck and nearly lopped his head clean off his body. It wasn¡¯t fatal¡ªthe cut was clean enough to have healed by the time the blade passed all the way through¡ªbut it was a cold bucket to the face. A reminder that getting too cocky could easily spell his end.


    A sane man would have backed away to reconsider his approach, but Durham knew not the meaning of fear. Even with the threat to his life, he only stepped forward, allowing Virillius¡¯ follow-up to rip through his ribs and shred his guts.


    He grabbed the weapon before it could leave his body, and with his spear in a reverse grip, traded the king¡¯s blow for one of his own. Blood poured from both their chests. And yet, they remained unflinching.


    Another brutal exchange followed right after. A leg for a stomach. An arm for a lung. An antler for a liver. They went back and forth, laying down heavy strikes one after another as they left their surroundings deformed.


    Durham thrived in the moment. He laughed at every trade, converting his pain to pure joy. But eventually, he had no choice but to back away. It wasn¡¯t just because Virillius had punched him so hard that his lower body had ceased to exist, but because he was the only one at risk.


    In such close quarters, he was no match for his king and master. Each of Virillius¡¯ strikes, be they with his fists, his legs, his antlers, or his spear, had whispered death straight into his ears. But Durham could speak no such threat.


    When given a chance to disengage, he took it without complaint. Putting a stop to his body mid-dodge, he allowed himself to be made a projectile so he could reconstruct his bottom half midflight. With man and horse as one again, he took to the air and stretched his wings.


    His feathers started to come alight as he reached his full, fifteen meter wingspan. One by one, ten by ten, they started to glow with the radiant red light that had so often guided him to victory. It was closer to an enhancement than an attack. The raw arcane power flooded his muscles and seeped into his organs. Had he been anyone else, he surely would have found himself hampered by the ridiculous technique.


    But thanks to his unique constitution, Durham was perfectly fine, completely unbothered and without any damage to his name. After all, though he wasn¡¯t a mage, though he held only a juvenile understanding of the mystic arts, his flesh was made of nothing but circuits.


    He was a mana vein, a living magic circuit in the shape of a half-human horse.


    The next time he charged, it was as a bolt of lightning. He zigged and zagged through the air, leaving a bright red streak in his wake as land and sky were made as one.


    The attack that followed relied as much on his brute strength as it did his careful technique.


    His swing was backed by enough force to shake the castle. The building rumbled and groaned, completely disrupted in spite of the barriers meant to part the battle from its audience. It almost looked like a flaw in the shield¡¯s design, but it simply couldn¡¯t be helped. Durham had displaced the shield and crashed it into the ground beneath it.


    All because he missed his target.


    Virillius sidestepped the attack and delivered a counter, just as he had before Durham had ramped up his speed. Though he hadn¡¯t cast any spells or activated any skills, he had no trouble keeping up. The power behind his blow increased proportionally. It was a simple strike to the side of Durham¡¯s body, but it was delivered with such force that it blew his body apart. His front right leg came out the back left half of his frame along with a fountain of lifeblood. The vital essence sprayed so far that it looked like it hit the clouds. Without the barrier around the practice grounds, the whole building would surely have been covered in red splatter.


    Just like before, Durham grabbed the king¡¯s spear in hopes of trading blows, but the trick was denied by the increase in Virillius¡¯ power. He tore the weapon from the horse¡¯s body with his arm still attached, literally twisting the flesh out from its socket before linking the motion into another attack.


    Durham caught it with the butt of his spear just in the nick of time. He immediately twisted his freshly recovered body into a spinning blow to catch the resulting opening, but Virillius¡¯ technique was far superior. With a light spin of the fingers and a flick of the wrist, the moose twisted his spear back into position and blocked the attack with ease.


    Their weapons were not durable enough to withstand the clash. The metallic cores within the otherwise wooden blades shook with such force that they burst apart. Shrapnel flew in all directions. Superheated bits of metal and wood dug through their respective pelts. Still, they remained unflinching.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    His body glowing even brighter, Durham threw a wave of punches that shook the air. A booming roar followed each blow, whether it was caught or parried. The flurry culminated in an uppercut accompanied by an arcane blast, but a twist of the head made the blow go wide. The crimson mana emitted from his fist shot into the heavens and blew the clouds apart.


    All of a sudden, the precipitation came to an end. The black carpet above the castle was replaced with a perfect view of a clear blue sky.


    Its title as the flashiest projectile, however, lasted for only a moment. Durham claimed it for himself as he ate a counter, a punch to the chest that sent him crashing into the barrier around the practice grounds again. His ribs exploded all over, leaving another bright red stain across the magical shield.


    Virillius couldn''t be bothered to pursue. He took a moment to adjust his bloodied shirt instead, pulling back the sleeves and undoing the buttons closest to his neck.


    It was a clear taunt, even more obvious than the cold gaze he fired in his opponent¡¯s direction. And for good reason.


    He was playing his usual game, refusing to put in any more effort than his opponent could draw out.


    But as far as Durham was concerned, it served as permission to give it his all. Even if they were in front of their soon-to-be opponents, his master was beckoning him to show his hand and put on a show that was worth his title.


    So he grew his glow.


    He channeled enough energy to fuel a thousand megatons worth of artillery.


    Piercing light radiated from his form, practically blinding all who dared to look upon it.


    The practice grounds themselves groaned to life in response to the swirling mana; three extra barriers were placed around them, with a fourth taking shape as his charge reached completion.


    The sheer amount of energy was enough to distort the world around him, to twist it out of shape and manifest a few glimpses of the mountainous realm that was his inner mindscape.


    And it was all unleashed at once as he propelled himself across the arena.


    There was almost no time between his kick off and the moment of impact. For a moment, even Virillius struggled to follow his movements exactly.


    He was faster than sound, faster than lightning, faster than even the sun herself as she swam her way through the sea of stars.


    Still, the movement was perfectly controlled. He ran a full circle around the ring and grabbed a spare spear off the shelf before approaching his master head-on. There was no point exploiting a blind spot. He knew that Virillius could perfectly predict his motion, regardless of how he tried to vary his final angle of attack.


    The accompanying strike was sweet and simple, but technically sound. He slammed his foot into the ground and twisted all of the power that had accompanied his speed into a passing strike that his body could hardly withstand.


    His shoulders were dislocated mid-swing. His flesh was torn and rebuilt as he became more weapon than man. His body was nothing but a vessel for the most powerful attack that his body could manage.


    A vessel that was thoroughly destroyed by the resulting counter.


    His blade never reached Virillius.


    A whip made of blood appeared out of thin air as soon as he locked his trajectory. It was maybe a tenth of his speed. But he was unable to avoid it. He was too fast. His momentum made it impossible to dodge. He could only watch as it moved in slow motion and left a line that cut from his shoulder to his waist.


    Durham didn¡¯t bother defending.


    There was no point. His master¡¯s blades could cut through any mortal material; no matter the enhancements applied, his spear would serve no different than a sheet of paper.


    And that was why he had put every bit of his focus into ensuring a trade of blows. He carefully arced his blade so it would continue along its way even after his flesh was parted. He spun it just enough that it would tear through his master¡¯s flesh and leave a messy wound. He pushed down as hard as he could, so that its trajectory would stay true. But again, the whip put all of his preparation to waste. His upper half, in the meanwhile, was granted the downwards momentum that he had so desperately desired.


    His weapon skimmed right past a lifted front leg, drawing only the faintest trickle of blood as it buried itself in what became a fresh crater.


    It was then that his technique took hold.


    His body exploded. All of the magic he stored was released in the blink of an eye, flooding his surroundings with a purifying light that wiped every bit of his flesh off the face of the earth. The sky turned red. A pillar of raw energy extended ten kilometers beneath the surface and another hundred into the sky.


    Everything shook and rattled.


    And yet, his master was unflinching.


    Virillius simply stood where he was with his spear held in one of the standard stances.


    It was not because he was immune. Far from it.


    Durham¡¯s magical infusion was no ars magna. Its effects would not be voided by the moose¡¯s ultimate ability. After all, it was a release of pure energy that relied almost entirely on the resulting expansion and dispersal of his super concentrated magic, a special technique that he had crafted for the sole purpose of killing the rulebender known as Virillius Augustus.


    But while it sufficed in theory, especially in a space so perfectly confined, Virillius emerged missing only his clothing.


    It wasn¡¯t like he hadn¡¯t been struck. The attack scorched his fur and ate his skin, but the rest of his flesh was largely unharmed. It simply didn¡¯t do enough damage to outpace his natural healing.


    Durham quickly put himself back together from just a few surviving scraps of brain. He regrew his body and pushed himself off the ground, but he felt a blade against the back of his neck before his limbs recovered.


    The duel was over.


    Just as usual, he had been played like a child.


    ¡°I expect most of our fighters to reach Durham¡¯s level by the time of the tournament.¡± Though stark naked, Virillius turned to the audience with his expression unchanged. There wasn¡¯t a lick of sweat on his body; his breath was steady, and his heart was calm. It didn¡¯t look like he had exerted even the slightest bit of effort. ¡°Your challenge has lit a great fire in this nation¡¯s heart. I hope you will meet our expectations.¡±


    ¡°We shall endeavour,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Good,¡± said Virillius. ¡°Now if you will excuse me, I must arrange for a change of clothes.¡±


    The king walked through the parting crowd. It was only in that act that the Cadrian forces remained organised, for they had already descended into a bout of madness. Some sang the king a whole song¡¯s worth of praise, while others did the same for his defeated opponent. They threw their arms around Durham¡¯s shoulders and smacked him on the back. It was almost difficult to believe that he hadn¡¯t emerged victorious.


    Allegra gathered up the Vel¡¯khanese in the meantime and led them indoors. She created a soundproof barrier several layers thick once they were in the hall, before crossing her arms and beginning to speak.


    ¡°Do you see now? This is what I meant when I said that besting Cadria will prove next to impossible. I admit, Durham is a cut above most of the others, but it¡¯s not as if they¡¯re all that much weaker.¡±


    ¡°I cannot imagine myself besting Durham, regardless of the extent of my growth,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°He¡¯s strong,¡± agreed Lana.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire. ¡°Probably.¡±


    ¡°I would rather you refrained from voicing your uncertainties. They serve little purpose but to exacerbate my own,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Agreed,¡± said Lana.


    ¡°You can still back out,¡± said Allegra. ¡°But this will likely be your last chance. It¡¯ll be much harder for us to come up with a good enough excuse if you wait for any longer.¡±


    ¡°You arranged for the show,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I felt like I needed to prove my point,¡± said Allegra.


    Arciel nodded. ¡°I understand. But I shan¡¯t submit. I have already chosen my path, and I shall see it through to the end.¡±


    ¡°I guess I¡¯ll have to help you then,¡± said Allegra, with a smile. ¡°I¡¯ll put together a training regimen that¡¯s much more sane than whatever Claire has in mind.¡±


    ¡°My regimen was perfectly sane,¡± said Claire. ¡°And probably less strict.¡±


    ¡°We are in no position to refuse, and I am willing to press forward with any necessary preparations,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Me too,¡± said Lana.


    ¡°Naturally,¡± said Claire. ¡°But I won¡¯t be doing what Allegra says.¡±


    The squid smiled wryly. ¡°And Chloe?¡±


    ¡°H-huh?¡± The maid blinked. ¡°S-sorry, what were you saying? I wasn¡¯t really paying attention.¡±


    ¡°I cannot fault you. It was an intimidating display,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that.¡±


    ¡°What is it then?¡±


    Chloe laughed a bit as she cast her eyes in Claire¡¯s direction.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I think I want your dad to rail me.¡±


    A loud bang resounded through the building.


    It was only much later in the day, when the maids passed through the hall, that they would discover an inexplicable, helmet-shaped hole marring one of the beautiful stone walls.

 Chapter 411 - Amidst the Valencian Wind IV

    Chapter 411 - Amidst the Valencian Wind IV


    Krail woke no later than most of the girls. But rather than heading into the common area, he remained in his room and sat atop his bed with his legs crossed, his eyes closed, and his hands in his lap. As a greenwood elf, he was naturally an early riser. It was as much a result of their culture as it was their biology, for it was only through intermingling with humanoid plants like mandrakes and dryads that the modern greenwood lineage had ultimately come about.


    Just by touching his skin, the sun filled him with endless energy. A single extended tanning session sufficed to flood his veins with sugars and his circuits with magic. But on that particular morning, the sky was without its usual light. The dark clouds that accompanied the rain and hail left his mind foggy and his body more lethargic than not. But that was precisely why it was the perfect opportunity to work on self-improvement. To focus in such a circumstance was to perfect the output of his spells. And so, ignoring his magical aids, he took a breath and chanted away. The arrows materialized in the space in front of him, as they always did. But rather than firing them off indoors, he allowed them to fall in such a way that they drew a magic circle.


    It was the solution that he had recently derived following several extended discussions with Allegra. The problem with his magic was that it was shallow. Almost everything he did involved the production and firing of arrows. Even his signature ars magna was nothing but a massive arrow sure to land on target.


    The problem ultimately stemmed from his cognition. He certainly viewed arrows as the ultimate weapon, but they were more so tools to land precise strikes than weapons of mass destruction. There was nothing he could do if his tiny remote blades were unable to pierce whatever it was they were aimed towards.


    Ideally, he needed to be able to imbue his arrows with some sort of brain-eating poison, but without the requisite magical school, such a solution was difficult to construct, hence the solution at hand.


    The practice lasted until the sky was suddenly blown apart. The whole castle seemed to quake with rage as a shockwave pulsed through his surroundings. When he looked out the window, he found a bright light that was filled with enough magic to shake him to his core. And then, just as quickly as it appeared, the bursting energy vanished. It was replaced with a shock to his system as the sun suddenly appeared out of thin air and rained its light down upon his body.


    Thinking that it might have been an enemy attack, Krail grabbed his staff and scrambled out onto the balcony, but nothing seemed too out of place. Some of the guards certainly gathered in the sky near the pillar¡¯s source, but few of the castle¡¯s workers had reacted. The maids and butlers casually walked around with baskets of laundry and trolleys of food, the men patrolling the ramparts paced around as calmly as ever, and the quarrymen maintaining the freshly-drained moat still sang and shoveled away. The only other person who was panicked was Jules, who had also dashed out onto his balcony in order to check on the source of the magical outburst.


    ¡°What the fuck was that!?¡± screamed the clam.


    ¡°I have no idea,¡± said Krail. ¡°Should we investigate?¡±


    ¡°Doubt it¡¯s worth it with how shit¡¯s looking.¡±


    ¡°I guess not,¡± said Krail. ¡°Coincidentally, this incident happens to remind me of one of the times I visited th¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind hearing you out, but we¡¯ll probably get our shit smacked in if you keep screaming out here,¡± said Jules. ¡°Meet me out in the hall or something.¡±


    ¡°Give me a few minutes to wash off, and I¡¯ll be in the common area,¡± said Krail.


    ¡°Wait, hold on. I¡¯m pretty sure,¡± he paused for a second to inspect his surroundings, ¡°Claire mentioned something about some bigger baths. Might as well hit those while we¡¯re at it.¡±


    ¡°Works for me.¡± After heading back into his room, the elf grabbed a change of clothes and stepped into the common area, where he found a note sitting on top of one of the tables.


    ¡°The fuck¡¯s it say?¡± asked Jules, with a yawn.


    ¡°It seems that the girls have started touring the castle without us. Most of them have headed to the training grounds. If I had to guess, I¡¯d say that our hosts are likely putting on some sort of display.¡±


    ¡°Of course they are.¡± The clam waddled towards the door and lightly pushed it open.


    There was already a maid standing out in front of it by the time of his arrival. The centaur briefly curtsied in his direction, lifting her skirt and bending her knees, before greeting him with a smile.


    ¡°Good morning. Are you looking to go somewhere?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Where¡¯re the baths at?¡± asked Jules. ¡°The big ones.¡±


    ¡°Right this way,¡± said the maid.


    She walked the pair through the halls, her steps slowly paced to match their shorter gaits. Everything about her appearance screamed professional. Her back was straight as a rod, her obviously long hair was tied into a bun, and her hands remained held in front of her lap throughout their journey. And though she often moved her ears to check for their footsteps, she never once glanced in their direction.


    Only ten turns later did she finally stop in front of a set of double doors.


    ¡°This is the public men¡¯s bath. Please take as much time as you would like. There is a bell located by the changing room¡¯s door in case you require assistance. As outlined during your briefing last night, we do not offer any sexual services, but anything else can be freely requested.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± said Jules.


    Curtsying again, the maid continued down the hall and vanished beyond a corner. The two men, however, paid her little attention. Their eyes had been redirected as soon as the door was pushed open.


    The changing room was a grand open space with wooden shelves lining the walls and several moose-sized benches placed at fixed intervals throughout. The seats were matched with an equal number of mirrors, with some mounted on the walls and others attached to the ceiling. One would imagine that they would be fogged over, given the steam that rolled in from the connected room, but somehow, they remained as clear as day.


    Jules waited for the elf to change his clothes before he started towards the door. There, through a wall of smoke, they found a massive water-filled space dimensioned more like a track than a bathtub. There was already a figure at the far end¡ªa half-humanoid shape visible only on account of its massive size. He was sitting with his back to the deep end¡¯s wall, his eyes closed, and his arms crossed across his chest.


    His colouration alone was practically enough to deduce his identity. It was only a little lighter than Claire¡¯s, missing the faint blue hue reflected in her scales. It was a stark contrast to the blackened antlers that sprouted from between the strands. Their dark, ashen colour almost made them look burnt or scarred, but no such wound could have possibly persisted. For he stood at the apex of Cadrian warriors. And even without having seen him in battle, they could easily surmise the extent of his durability.


    The mages hesitated for a moment. With no one else present, it looked like they were intruding, but he spoke before they had a chance to back off.


    ¡°Sit,¡± he said. ¡°The temperature will adjust on its own.¡±


    The words were spoken in such a commanding tone that the Vel¡¯khanese found it difficult to refuse. After briefly exchanging glances, Jules and Krail slipped into the bath and settled in a location nearby. It seemed rude to put too much distance between them after the man had explicitly grabbed their attention.


    Still, while Jules was brazen enough to plop himself right by the warlord, Krail chose a spot a little further away. Getting too close seemed like a terrible idea. Not only was the man the nation¡¯s king, his biceps were practically as thick as the wood elf¡¯s body. He could rip him apart with a look if he wanted, though that was likely true regardless of the distance between them.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    For a while, the trio sat in awkward silence. The once-lukewarm bath itself was pleasant¡ªlike Virillius had claimed. Curiously, it was only the temperature in his immediate vicinity that had heated itself to perfection. Extending a hand and sticking it in a patch a little further away provided him with the same tepid sensation that had assaulted him as he entered.


    ¡°How has Claire been? Is she eating well?¡±


    ¡°You know, I was expecting you to say something, but really, man? Of all the fucking things you could¡¯ve said¡­¡± Jules heaved a sigh. ¡°I figured you weren¡¯t like she said you were, but still.¡±


    Virillius opened his eyes and turned his piercing gaze on the clam beside him. ¡°...I have nothing to say in my defence,¡± he said, after a brief delay.


    ¡°Damn, and you ain¡¯t even enough of a hardass to deny it?¡± Jules laughed.


    ¡°I see no reason to,¡± he said. ¡°Even if you were to inform her of this conversation, she would be likely to dismiss it as drivel, or perhaps an act on my part.¡±


    ¡°Probably, yeah,¡± said Jules. He kicked up the back of his shell and entrusted more of his weight to the wall behind him. ¡°So what¡¯s a king like you doing in a public bath anyway? I figured you¡¯d have your own fancy tub or whatever.¡±


    Virillius nodded. ¡°We do have one such structure in my wing of the castle, but it hasn¡¯t been used since I seized the crown. It¡¯s a waste of resources with this facility active at all times.¡±


    ¡°Forgive me if I¡¯m being too discourteous,¡± said Krail. ¡°But wouldn¡¯t it have been wiser to keep it running for the sake of your image? I¡¯m under the impression that you¡¯ve styled yourself as a god-king, which from my experience at least, tends to indicate a ruler who shies far away from any sort of public interaction. In fact, moments like this seem like exactly the sort you¡¯d want to avoid.¡±


    ¡°They call me that of their own accord,¡± said Virillius. ¡°Though I will certainly take responsibility for the prior king¡¯s demise, I have every intention of abdicating at the first given opportunity.¡±


    ¡°The fuck is that supposed to mean?¡± asked Jules.


    ¡°I would rather be anything but king.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s something you should be admitting to us?¡± asked Krail, with a blink. ¡°We are not your citizens, nor do we have any incentive to maintain your secrets.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s because you aren¡¯t my countrymen that I can cut loose. Claire is hardly the only individual who will only believe what she wants.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t argue with you there.¡± Jules laughed. ¡°Say, are drinks allowed in here?¡±


    ¡°What sort would you like?¡± asked Virillius.


    ¡°Dunno what you guys have locally. Anything that¡¯s good, I guess.¡±


    Nodding, Virillius stood up in the water and walked over to the statue that stood in the middle of the bath. It was a large stone structure ten, maybe twenty meters tall, with its base sitting above the surface of the water.


    ¡°This device will allow you to sample many of the more popular varieties.¡±


    The base rose from beneath the water when Virillius pressed his hand against it. After climbing high enough, the top portion suddenly opened to a set of wine racks, each stocked to the brim with sealed bottles.


    ¡°Unfortunately, they are not quite real. You cannot rely on them to fuel your body.¡± A tray and three glasses suddenly materialized on top of the water when he retrieved a particularly fancy flask. ¡°However, the magic used in their conjuring allows for the full experience of their taste and corresponding inebriation regardless of the extent of your resistance. The effects last until you leave the room, at which point they will quickly fade.¡±


    ¡°Wait, so we get all the drink and all the fun, and none of the hangovers and other bullshit?¡± said Jules.


    ¡°Effectively.¡±


    ¡°Sign me up.¡±


    ¡°And you?¡± he asked, turning his gaze to Krail.


    ¡°If you will be so hospitable, I see no reason to refuse.¡±


    ¡°Good man.¡± The king poured a mouthful of liquid into each of the glasses and pushed the tray over after grabbing his own. ¡°This is Vekratt, aged hay liquor distilled down to an obscene purity. Most take it with several parts water. You¡¯re free to use any of the fountains,¡± he pointed at the various places from which the water spewed, ¡°as they¡¯re clean enough to drink, and again, will adjust to the necessary temperature.¡±


    ¡°Fuck that, that¡¯s pussy talk,¡± said Jules. He grabbed the cup and downed its contents in a single breath. ¡°God damn, this shit burns good.¡±


    ¡°Does it?¡± Krail was a little more hesitant. He briefly glanced in the fountain¡¯s direction after giving the cup a whiff, but he found himself unable to water it down after both the other bathers downed their drinks straight. Eventually, after finding Virillius¡¯ eyes upon him, he lifted it to his lips and drained its contents.


    His eyes opened wide, in part because it was every bit as strong as the others had claimed, but also because its flavour was mind-bogglingly deep. There were hints of pine, strong spices, and a familiar almost bready taste intermingled with that of fresh grass. He almost wanted to vomit on account of its brain-rotting proof, but at the same time, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from joining Jules in putting his cup back on the tray and sliding it towards the king.


    ¡°It¡¯s delicious,¡± he said.


    It was only for a moment, but Virillius allowed a small, almost invisible smile to creep up on his lips as a faint chuckle escaped him.


    ¡°Yes. Yes it is.¡± The second serving he poured filled the glass to the brim. Given the smaller size of the elf and the clam, there was likely enough pure alcohol within it to kill each at least three times over, though such a death would not have been possible lest the drink was real and their levels were much lower. It was unheard of for even a mage with three ascensions to drink himself straight into the grave.


    ¡°So I gotta ask,¡± said Jules. ¡°You do know your daughter¡¯s a total fucking psycho, right?¡±


    The clam half expected to be punched for the question, but the moose remained calm and collected. If anything, it was Krail who punished his lack of fear by way of saliva-laden booze.


    ¡°You can¡¯t just say that!¡± shouted the elf, as quietly as he could.


    ¡°Well it¡¯s true,¡± said Jules. ¡°It¡¯s not like she¡¯s even trying to hide it.¡±


    ¡°Admittedly, she did not turn out precisely as I had hoped,¡± said Virillius, quietly. ¡°But given the circumstances, it was not something that could really be helped.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna need to be more specific.¡±


    Virillius took a few seconds to swivel his drink in his hand before downing it in one gulp. ¡°I failed her.¡±


    Jules immediately tried to ask another question, but sensing the danger, Krail grabbed a random bottle from the dispensary, and after completing a chant in record speed, attached it to the tip of an arrow and delivered it to the clam¡¯s mouth.


    ¡°It happens to the best of us.¡± Still in the middle of catching his breath, the elf collapsed into the pool with his back against the outer edge.


    Virillius, likewise, closed his eyes, leaned back, and took a few moments to entertain his own thoughts.


    That left Jules, who had already finished his whole bottle, to break the silence with a drunken hic. Ignoring Krail¡¯s pleading gaze, he set the drink aside and continued to question the king.


    ¡°So, why Vel¡¯khan?¡±


    ¡°It is a matter of honour. Pollux¡¯s demise wa¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mean like that. I mean like, why was he even there in the first place? Honestly doesn¡¯t look like we got shit on you guys. Hell, if it didn¡¯t mean I¡¯d be ditching the assholes back home, it almost feels like I¡¯d be better off just calling this whole thing quits and sitting my ass around.¡± The clam drained the rest of his cup and poured himself another before continuing. ¡°It¡¯s not like conquering even does shit for you. We ain¡¯t even remotely close to being neighbours.¡±


    Virillius set down his cup and crossed his arms. ¡°Our goal was to market our products, particularly our artifacts.¡±


    ¡°The fuck is that supposed to mean?¡± asked Jules, with his brow furrowed. ¡°You guys were just in it for cash?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing it was less the cash, and more everything else,¡± said Krail.


    ¡°Like what?¡± asked Jules.


    ¡°The cultural influence, perhaps?¡± said the elf. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen anything quite like it on my travels, but I have seen a number of plays where similar objectives were demonstrated.¡±


    ¡°There is a little more nuance to it than that,¡± said Virillius. ¡°The purpose was to build a dependence on goods that only we were capable of producing. With an effective monopoly on artifacts, as well as the continent¡¯s largest center for artifact research and development, we intended to export all manner of goods down the continent¡¯s east coast. In reality, these efforts have already paid off to some extent, as they have with Paunse¡¯s lightning catchers. With their primitive, inefficient tooling phased out and the accompanying industry defunct, they rely on our exports to store the thunder god¡¯s blessing and fuel the growth of their crops.¡±


    ¡°So you were basically looking for ways to conquer people from the inside? You sneaky bastards, goddamn,¡± said Jules.


    ¡°Admittedly, I failed to rein in Timaois when he misconstrued our goal as such, but that was not the original intention.¡± He sipped from his cup, taking in just enough of the alcohol for its flavour to fill his mouth. ¡°By establishing ourselves as an economic superpower, it was our desire to build a set of willing alliances that might deter the Western Alliance. It served effectively as a means to end our long-running feud without any further bloodshed.¡±


    ¡°Seriously?¡± Jules raised a brow. ¡°I thought you fuckers were all about making people bleed.¡±


    ¡°Not all of us are willing to follow Vella¡¯s teachings to the letter,¡± Virillius rose from the water and started towards the exit. ¡°Unfortunately, this is all that I have time for this morning. You are free to help yourselves to as much drink as you would like.¡±


    Only much later would he receive a report that the Vel¡¯khanese visitors had taken his word quite literally; both men nearly drowned in the bath after drinking enough to black out.

 Chapter 412 - Amidst the Valencian Wind V

    Chapter 412 - Amidst the Valencian Wind V


    Claire gave her body a bit of a stretch as she leapt off the castle¡¯s ramparts. It had been a few days since they arrived in Valencia, and she was already sick of being home. Despite her protests, the party had spent two full days touring the castle. It was one of the biggest wastes of time she could have possibly imagined, second only to the activity they had taken on that morning. At Arciel¡¯s request, they had gone up to Augustus Manor, Claire¡¯s childhood home, in spite of the fact that there was nothing to see.


    The lyrkress was the only one to have abstained. It wasn¡¯t like she didn¡¯t understand. To them, the boring old sights were neither boring nor old at all, and the Valencian castle was every bit an amusement park as it was a fortress. The rooms were rife with interesting devices and gimmicks that drew the unfamiliar eye. The courtyards and greenhouses were packed to the brim with rare herbs and natural medicines known to the world at large as holy grails. And the great hall always featured the most luxurious food that money could buy.


    Most entertaining of all, however, was the game room. It was filled with cutting-edge artifacts created for the sole purpose of entertainment; games and cards that moved on their own, dice that told player-directed tales, and tomes that projected their contents as delusions straight into their readers¡¯ minds.


    Still, Claire refused to join them. Leaving Allegra to serve as their guide, she spent much of her time alone. Though she lazed around and tried to unwind at first, she soon found that it was impossible. She couldn¡¯t spend her time with Rubia, courtesy of the differences in their apparent status, and she really didn¡¯t want to be anywhere near her father. She had considered visiting her old associates, but it would be difficult to properly interact with them without revealing her identity. To them, she had to remain as the silent, nameless knight.


    She had tried to make do with meditating and working on her magic¡ªpracticing with her newly improved circuits¡ªbut it was hard to focus while the local intelligence officers kept their eyes upon her. Eventually, she threw in the towel and departed from the castle grounds altogether.


    The first two days were spent flying around the city with a particular focus on all of the places that she had never been allowed to visit. The slums were first on her list, but having seen many similar districts in other countries first hand, Claire found the labeling a gross overstatement.


    The government was hardly so foolish as to let the less fortunate rot in poverty and squalor. The only few who were unemployed were those who were unwilling to work, and regulations demanded that every job paid a living wage. The rules were enforced stringently, and even a single report could lead to an unannounced investigation.


    Of course, while there were any number of ways for an illicit businessman to worm their way out of immediate punishment, the people could always fall back on the rule of violence. Duels were fought to settle disputes, and while there were certainly a fair number of ne¡¯er-do-wells willing to lend their swords for coin, the strongest fighters often found themselves under the government¡¯s employ. Coincidentally, there was no rule preventing a civil servant from volunteering to serve as a civilian¡¯s representative.


    It was a risky system that assumed the strongest would have the nation¡¯s best intentions in mind. But at least for the past thousand years, it had proven problem-free. With the number of bad actors far fewer than not and the well-meaning at the head of the ship, all was well in paradise.


    Government intervention was hardly limited to policies and their enforcement. In times of peace, the army was often tasked with aiding in construction. Throwing homes together for the homeless was childsplay for the strictly trained mage corps.


    With poverty as a concept that only barely existed, the slum was just as ordinary as every other part of town. It was only categorized as such because the type of work available in the surrounding districts tended to pay less than jobs that were further away. Hence the princess¡¯ disappointment.


    Claire had known, cognitively, that the slum was just another boring part of Valencia. She had always been able to see it, both from the sky and when they passed through the city, but she had held onto the hope that she would discover the city¡¯s criminal underbelly and find herself caught in a scheme beyond her means. Alas, no such event transpired regardless of how long she wandered.


    The rest of her exploration proved just as uneventful. Though the playwrights and bards continued to churn out just as much new work as usual, very little of it seemed to catch Claire¡¯s attention. It made her feel a little off. In the past, she had always wanted to hear about the newest rising stars and their hard-earned victories. True stories, or at least stories based on true stories, had been among her favourites. But as she walked down the streets and heard the hawkers¡¯ promotions, she found her attention uncaught.


    Still, she sat in on one such performance and listened to the end. Valencia¡¯s bards were just as engaging as ever¡ªit wasn¡¯t like the quality of the stories themselves had dropped in a way that was immediately apparent¡ªand yet, she nearly fell asleep. Somehow, the heroic legend failed to stir her heart. She was more intrigued by the places featured in the stories than the central characters, though much to her past excitement and present dismay, few singers focused their attention on the curious environments.


    Similar disappointments played out throughout the rest of her wandering. Valencia was just too familiar, and with nothing having changed in the year and a half since her departure, she found that little but boredom awaited. That was why, on the third morning, she decided to get down to business.


    She floated through the air, slowly crossing the massive city as did many of its winged residents, with her eyes on the western border. Though there was a temple street, like the one in Vel¡¯khagan, Valencia¡¯s spiritual institutions were haphazardly scattered about. At a glance, it was a contradiction, but the rationale became clear with a quick glance towards the east, where anyone with eyes could find a veritable district where naught but Vella¡¯s praises were sung.


    The goddess¡¯ path, as it was so often known, was a behemoth of a roadway with enough space for a procession as wide as fifteen wagons. Its sides were lined with armouries, ateliers, and training halls¡ªall places that vested their interests in the waging of war. Even the colosseum shared in the war goddess¡¯ space, though the reason was every bit as practical as it was an expression of faith. There was no other place in the city where the roads were quite so wide; the temple and the colosseum were the only two facilities that drew enough traffic to completely drown the streets.


    Vella was like no other when it came to stealing the people¡¯s affections. There wasn¡¯t any way for another temple to compete without being stifled by her pressure. Moving to the other side of town was practically common sense.


    With Cadria being Cadria, there weren¡¯t too many others worshipped in the first place. Still, the capital was populous enough that the most famous deities had domains to call their own.


    Claire had her eyes set on Xekkur¡¯s.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The death god was popular enough that his local mausoleum was sized like a noble¡¯s manor. The overall impression it gave was that of a dreary hellscape. Its pitch black fences were adorned with large spikes, and the building itself looked like it was made of layered tombstones. All of the weapons scattered across the yard had their blades in the dirt and half-rotten mementos tied to their hilts. Weathered hats, tattered scarves, bloodstained shirts¡ªthe last remnants of their previous owners. The trees that lined the property were withered and anyone who inspected the dirt beneath them would find plenty of bone. Not all of the bodies were disposed of in quite that way. Loosely humanoid, bestial, and centaurian bags hung from the branches, the ropes around their necks leaving their ends in no part to the imagination.


    Claire felt the usual pressure as she entered the grounds, though that was all there was. The pain was nonpresent, as had been the case since her third ascension. In its place was an unsettling tickle that slowly crawled its way across her skin. She found it difficult to believe that it was the god¡¯s divinity. Perhaps it was better attributed to either the scent of death or the wailing that came from deep within his crypt. In either case, she ignored it and proceeded through the open doors.


    The lone monk looked every bit as skeletal as the temple¡¯s decorations, for the man was a lich. From the phantom humanoid form that was overlaid atop his bones, one could surmise that he was likely a halfbreed, specifically an individual whose blood was mixed with that of a blackroot elf.


    He briefly glanced in her direction, pointed down the hall, and returned his bespeckled eyes to the book he had in his hands. Though the whole encounter came off as a little unsettling and strange, Claire had no complaints; the less she had to talk, the better.


    Surely enough, the hallway led down a staircase and into a subterranean atrium. The altar was made of the same grey stone as the building¡¯s exterior, though in the candlelit darkness, it was far more intimidating.


    The last time that she had visited one of Xekkur¡¯s temples, he had instructed her to pay attention to her lack of reflection. At the time, the goal had seemed vague and incomprehensible, but looking back, she understood exactly what he meant. She had completely forgotten the proper use of her strengths and defaulted to relying on the skills granted to her by the system. And while they were certainly potent, so too did she see the many points of failure that stemmed from overreliance. It was ironic, really. Those that left Llystletein were supposed to take precisely that lesson to heart, but perhaps because she had no experience as a true combatant, Claire had failed to absorb it.


    Xekkur¡¯s disappointment was inevitable. It had cost an episode of embarrassment, but Claire had finally learned her lesson. An ideal situation was like the one that had resulted in the death of Pollux¡¯s successor¡ªa scheme fully planned out in advance and simply executed in real time.


    Reading her foes was only a backup, a contingency that let her stay ahead of them when the plan deviated from its original route.


    Since then, she had spent a lot of time thinking about her abilities and the various ways she could use them to corner her enemies. It helped that her vector magic was finally back online, and though she had been reluctant at first, she had even accepted the phantom¡¯s teachings.


    Her pride was not worth a loss of power. And from the moment she sat down in front of the altar, she knew that Xekkur agreed.


    He took her into his realm without waiting for her words. It was nothing like the dark temple in which his worshippers had dwelled. Sunlight streamed from up above, filling the rolling hills with an uncharacteristic warmth.


    Tiny pale flowers topped the hills and patches of clover filled the troughs. It would have made for a picturesque scene if not for the giant device that dominated the horizon. The largest piece was a pale white cog nearly as wide as the planet. The turning gear was only barely visible; it was translucent enough that she was tempted to squint, but she refrained. Such behaviour was far too unbecoming, especially in the presence of a god.


    Opening more of her eyes instead, she took in more of the device. But somehow, even with her field of vision expanded, she found that it remained unchained. The giant gear was every bit as blurry, incomplete, and utterly incomprehensible regardless of how she observed it.


    ¡°You look upon the spectre of death. Be glad that it is still faint.¡±


    The deity standing atop the nearest hill spoke in a soft and gentle voice. Like the rest of his domain, he looked nothing like the man shown on the statues around his temple. The sculptures depicted a lanky, towering man who wore a ram¡¯s skull over his face and kept a pitch black cloak draped over his shoulders. Even in his paintings, he was a stick figure of a psychopathic killer whose apparent age was more advanced than not.


    Xekkur was certainly quite thin by a grown man¡¯s standard, but his lack of width was more so attributed to his apparent age than his malnutrition. Standing a full head shorter than Claire, he sported short ghastly white locks that glimmered beneath the sky, a pair of horns that rose from his temples, and a layer of skin dyed in the same light-brown tone as Flitzegarde¡¯s.


    He wore a bright white robe as disproportionately large as the feathered wings that grew from the back of his body. It was an almost innocent aesthetic, ruined only by the abyss that lay within his eyes. Staring into them was like meeting one¡¯s end. She couldn¡¯t tell where his pupils were or if he even had any in the first place. All she saw was a swirling mass of darkness.


    ¡°The spectre of death?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°It is the end, the final rest that awaits all but the few who have escaped their mortality. And as it approaches, it will shrink and grow clearer. What you see is just the first stage, the shadow that looms from the moment of your birth.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    He paused for a second to look at her before twisting his lips into an innocent smile. ¡°Do not worry. It can appear before you at a moment¡¯s notice. There is never any guarantee that death is anything but a blink and a gasp away.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°You do,¡± he said. ¡°And you¡¯ve made some good progress as of late.¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve done as you asked.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Yes you have.¡±


    He turned towards her and slowly raised a hand. It was difficult to determine exactly where his fingers were, thanks to his all-too-long sleeves, but it more or less looked like he was pointing in her direction.


    A faint energy gathered at the tip of his supposed fingers. Forming a puffy ball, the raw energy rode the spring breeze and drifted its way towards her. It was like a dandelion seed, albeit one that soon sank into her chest.


    Log Entry 871341


    You have received a blessing from the God of De¡ª


    Flux¡¯s words cut out before the proclamation reached its conclusion. It was overshadowed by a sharp ring, an ear-piercing echo that filled her head with pain.


    ¡ªimilar materials.


    But it was short-lived. The rake scraping its way through her mind vanished as quickly as it appeared.


    ¡°I do apologize. I did not anticipate that it would cause so much discomfort,¡± said Xekkur. ¡°As it says in your log, the ability that accompanies my blessing is improved mental processing speed when you perform self-reflection or otherwise study from anything that is even remotely book-adjacent.¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°I suspect that you are interested in only the first of these use cases, so I have taken the liberty of modifying the ability such that it also applies to those with whom your mind is connected. For now, this means your lizard and the homunculus named Rubia.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    The god raised his head and looked at the gear in the distance. ¡°The greatest show of appreciation would be to use the ability as intended. I¡¯d rather you did that than offer your words.¡±


    ¡°I will,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Make true on the claim, and perhaps I might offer another reward.¡± Xekkur smiled. ¡°I would say that not even violating the spirit of democracy is quite what I¡¯d call out of the question.¡±


    The rolling hills were gone by the time his voice faded. She was left in his atrium, where there was nothing to do but consider the difference between the statue before her and the form that he had shown.

 Chapter 413 - Amidst the Valencian Wind VI

    Chapter 413 - Amidst the Valencian Wind VI


    Having received a blessing but no quest, Claire sought another temple as soon as she escaped from Xekkur¡¯s domain. Flying about half a kilometer south, she found a small property that was more garden centre than holy ground. The blessed building in question was a greenhouse, as was often the case for many of the smaller-scale facilities raised in Primrose¡¯s name.


    It doubled as one of the few places where pests could go to be worshipped. Rodents in particular were considered holy beasts for their seed-spreading capabilities and their resemblance to the goddess¡¯ form. Alas, not even their pseudo-divine status could save the local pests from widespread elimination. If anything, the harvest goddess¡¯ church was more proactive in their culling, for they understood that only in the right numbers did they do more good than harm.


    As Claire entered the goddess¡¯ domain, she found her pressure far weaker than Xekkur¡¯s. It was a fault easily attributed to the time of year; winter was soon approaching and the harvest goddess lost her endless vitality in the accompanying cold. It was said that like many other rodents, she would dig herself a burrow and sleep until its end.


    There weren¡¯t too many accounts as to exactly when her hibernation began, and there was a small chance that she might have retired already, but Claire entered the greenhouse regardless. The nun out front didn¡¯t even ask her purpose as she entered the so-called church, only giving her a passing greeting whilst she stocked the exterior shelves.


    Most of the items were seeds, seedlings, or out-of-season flowers. And though many of the other guests showed interest¡ªunlike Xekkur¡¯s temple, Primrose¡¯s was bustling with visitors¡ªClaire ignored all the church¡¯s wares and walked straight towards the back of the store. There, she found the sort of small altar that called the workers¡¯ faith to question. It was not the size that proved problematic, but rather its active use. It was treated no different from the shelves in its surroundings and piled high with merchandise aplenty.


    It felt a little bit strange to sit down with wheelbarrows full of dirt and fertilizer all around her, but Claire found a small spot where there was nothing and quickly got to praying.


    ¡°O Primrose, great goddess of fields and full bellies, mother to all who subsist on the harvest. I beseech from you a quest of great enough import to earn your blessing.¡±


    For a second, it looked like her prayer had gone unanswered. But as she rose from her lowered posture, she found the world changed around her. There was still dirt and fertilizer all over, but it came in a less processed form.


    Fallen fruits and leaves dotted the floor of a dimly lit forest. It was not as if the sun was non-present or otherwise obscured. The branches in Rikael¡¯s path were barren. And yet, even without any clouds overhead, it was dark enough for one to think that the sun was beneath the horizon.


    It took Claire a moment to locate the dominion¡¯s master. Primrose was neither standing where she could be easily spotted nor looking in the lyrkress¡¯ direction. It was only by listening for the goddess¡¯ seldom-beating heart that she was able to discern that she was buried amidst the leaves.


    Removing them with her vectors, Claire found a tiny rodent with its body spread slovenly amidst the fallen debris. The almost morbidly obese hamster was a mix of oranges and greys. And though there were a few bits of brown thrown in, it was only because she was half smothered in dirt.


    Claire shrank down to her smallest form. As a tiny lyrkress, their overall sizes were not too dissimilar; the goddess made up for her relative lack of height with her bountiful width.


    Claire spent a solid few minutes sitting in front of Primrose and waiting, but she never seemed to stir. Raising her voice and requesting the goddess¡¯ attention proved every bit as fruitless as mindlessly waving her arms, so she eventually gave in, approached the holy hamster, and gave her cheeks a tug.


    They were surprisingly malleable, even more so than Sylvia¡¯s. Engaging her vectors, she found that they could go at least twenty meters apart even though the hamster¡¯s body clearly lacked the requisite material. She was confident that they would have continued to stretch, but she wasn¡¯t given the opportunity to test the theorem.


    Primrose started to stir, so Claire quickly let go of her cheeks and allowed them to snap back to their previous positions. She backed off in the meantime and assumed the most natural, guiltless stance she could.


    The goddess yawned, stretched, and rubbed her oddly sore cheeks before finally opening her eyes and gazing upon the mortal. Only then did she react with a start. Rapidly blinking, she adjusted the cape that sat on her back¡ªthe only article of clothing she wore¡ªand shot to her feet. She audibly cleared her throat, but the fake cough was interrupted by a yawn and transformed into a strange sound that was equal parts both and neither.


    ¡°Good morning.¡± Giving up, she put on a bit of a sheepish smile and greeted Claire with a bow. ¡°Sorry about that. I¡¯m always a little sleepy around this time of year.¡±


    ¡°Good morning,¡± said Claire. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to wake you.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be too worried. There¡¯s still about a week before I shut the doors for winter.¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°What did you say you were here for again?¡± asked the hamster. ¡°I was still half asleep when I heard your prayer.¡±


    ¡°A quest.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± The goddess flopped onto her butt as she picked up one of the seeds nearby and shoved it into her cheeks. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure I have too much to give you, to be honest.¡± Her cheeks only continued to swell as she gorged herself on acorns, dried goods, and the fruits of the season. ¡°But I think Aurora wanted to see you.¡±


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°The goddess of the frozen wilds?¡±


    Primrose started to chew on a sunflower seed as she nodded. ¡°Normally, I¡¯d point you to her church and go right back to bed, but seeing as how you¡¯re in need of a task, I guess it can¡¯t hurt to have a bit of fun.¡±


    Log Entry 871342


    You have received a quest - Punch Aurora.


    The goddess of the frozen wilds rarely resides within the divine realm. She spends most of her time manifested within the Langgbjerns¡¯ depths. Seek her in person and slug her in the face. Your reward will come in the form of a greater blessing.


    This quest will immediately fail if you visit any of her temples or offer any prayers in her name.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Claire blinked. Slowly raising her eyes from the log, she found the goddess with a brilliant smile.


    ¡°You want me to hit the goddess of the frozen wilds?¡±


    ¡°As hard as you can,¡± said Primrose. ¡°Knock her out and end winter early, and I¡¯ll pledge my unconditional support.¡±


    Returning her eyes to her log, Claire could feel a headache rapidly approaching.


    ___


    While Claire debated the benefits of visiting one of Aurora¡¯s temples and immediately abandoning the harvest goddess¡¯ quest, the rest of the northern brigade lounged the afternoon away. Having finally completed their tour of Augustus Manor and eaten a delicious lunch, its members had returned to the suite for a moment of respite.


    There was nothing left on the day¡¯s agenda nor any reason for the group to remain as one. In the first place, the tour was never a part of a shared schedule; everyone had only happened to tag along because it had snagged their interest. And as such, they soon returned to their individual business. Sylvia ran off to find Claire, Chloe and Arciel went to the baths, and Jules ventured out in search of liquor. Krail had happily accompanied him on the adventure. Evidently, he had developed a taste for Vekratt.


    With Lana polishing her axe and preparing for departure¡ªArciel had decided that they would set out the next morning¡ªAllegra was left with no one to talk to. Had they any more time, she likely would have run off to her lab and continued an old experiment, but the number of man-hours required for any such task could only be measured in dozens. It was a bit of a shame, but she was best keeping her hands off her old projects, lest she was willing to miss her ride.


    But with alchemy out of the question, she had no idea what else there was to do.


    She wound up aimlessly wandering the castle, passing through its halls as she reflected on the circumstances at hand. It felt a little strange and confounding to walk again through the castle¡¯s grounds. She had been banned from visiting it and sent up to Virillius¡¯ manor ever since that decades-old incident with Fornestead. And now that she was finally back, it was functionally as a guest from another nation.


    It wasn¡¯t like her loyalty to Cadria¡ªto Ferdinand¡ªhad suddenly dried up, nor was she opposing Virillius for the purpose of avenging her master. It was for the nation¡¯s own good. Or at least that was what everyone from her coconspirator to her divine mentor had told her.


    She found it difficult to discern the truth through the fog of their intentions, but she had to agree that their logic was sound. Most of her questions lay with the accompanying assumptions, but there was little that she could do to prod at their stability.


    With similar thoughts swirling through her mind nonstop, she continued to brood as she wandered the castle, stopping only as she glanced out one of the windows and spotted a familiar face. For a second, she almost thought it was Claire, but another glance confirmed that it was her copy. The homunculus was sitting in one of the courtyards, studying under a gazebo with a blanket draped over her shoulders.


    She was as engrossed in her materials as Claire had been as a child, before Virillius had suddenly changed his tune. Back then, when he was still supportive, when Violet was still alive, the tiny halfbreed would spend days on end with her face buried between the pages.


    She wasn¡¯t the most gifted student that Allegra had ever seen, but back then, she had certainly stood among their number. It was a real tragedy, a waste of potential that things had gone the way they did. Virillius regretted it as well. Or at least that was what she wanted to believe.


    Opening the door to a janitorial closet and pulling a very specific broom, Allegra headed downstairs and out into the courtyard.


    Because she had no intention of repeating his mistakes.


    She stopped right in front of the homunculus¡¯ sun chair and put on her best smile. ¡°Good afternoon.¡±


    The copy slowly raised her eyes and greeted Allegra with a small nod. In spite of their time apart, in spite of her murderous suggestion, the fake¡¯s affectionate, admiring gaze was unchanged¡ªa gaze that riddled the cottontail¡¯s heart with fresh knife wounds aplenty.


    The pain only intensified when the clone stood up from her seat and wrapped her arms around Allegra¡¯s shoulders. She could feel her eyes watering. She almost couldn¡¯t believe herself. She had always been the one to advocate widespread salvation. And yet, it was she who had so brazenly asked for her death. Even though the homunculus was just the sweetest thing.


    Choking back her tears, Allegra returned the embrace with a gentle squeeze. She didn¡¯t think she deserved it. She almost wanted the homunculus to hate her, to scream at her and openly express her disapproval. But no matter how long she waited, her condemnation was never delivered.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Eventually, Allegra squeezed out her words. But only barely, her voice a hoarse croak.


    The homunculus only shook her head. It was meant to be an act of comfort, but all it did was further Allegra¡¯s guilt. It didn¡¯t help that the copy¡¯s form made it feel like she was apologizing to Claire as well¡ªnot the Claire of the present, who had gotten over her betrayal, but the fragile, weak, broken-hearted Claire who she had knowingly wronged.


    ¡°Did she give you a name?¡± She tightened her grip around the fake Claire¡¯s waist and squeezed her one more time before she backed away.


    The homunculus nodded, but she didn¡¯t say it aloud. She glanced nervously through their surroundings instead, with her eyes falling on both the maids waiting in the doorway and some of the guards camping about. It only took Allegra a moment to catch on and throw up a series of spells. One was to dampen their voices, while the other was a physical barrier that blocked out the onlookers¡¯ eyes.


    ¡°There. We should be able to talk freely now,¡± said the mage.


    Nodding again, the fake brought a hand to her throat and lightly touched it a few times before she finally opened her mouth. ¡°Rubia.¡±


    It was strange how different the same set of vocal cords could sound. While Claire¡¯s voice was clear and mellow, Rubia¡¯s was gravelly and resonant. It almost seemed to echo through the rabbit¡¯s ears. A part of it was because the syllables were not perfectly synced with the motion of her lips. They were just a tiny bit off, noticeable only because the rabbit was paying careful attention.


    ¡°Rubia,¡± repeated Allegra. ¡°It¡¯s a pretty name.¡±


    Rubia nodded. ¡°I like it.¡±


    Allegra smiled. ¡°Does Virillius know?¡±


    Another nod.


    ¡°No wonder he reacted the way he did,¡± she muttered. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I never realised. I saw the signs.¡±


    ¡°Claire was there sometimes. When you were watching.¡±


    ¡°It makes so much sense now that I think back on it.¡± Allegra raised a hand to her face and massaged her temples. ¡°There were a few times where you suddenly started acting just like her. I always thought that it was some sort of residual behaviour, maybe something that came with her form.¡±


    Rubia shook her head. ¡°She liked teasing everyone. We had lots of fun.¡±


    ¡°Try not to let too many of her bad habits rub off on you, alright?¡±


    The fake cast her eyes downward and pouted. The adorable gesture was one that Allegra hadn¡¯t seen the real Claire make in upwards of a decade. ¡°They¡¯re not bad. She¡¯s fun and I love her.¡±


    ¡°You said that last time too,¡± said Allegra. ¡°Does she¡­ visit you often?¡±


    Rubia nodded. ¡°Once a week in person. And she possesses me almost every day.¡±


    ¡°Really? She visits that frequently?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes, she just sits around. And we watch her memories together while studying.¡±


    ¡°No wonder you were always content to bring out the books.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not why,¡± said Rubia.


    ¡°Then why?¡±


    ¡°Because you were my mom. And you showed me that it was fun.¡±


    Allegra felt her heart stop cold in her chest. All of a sudden, she wanted to cry again. Her face contorted and her stomach lurched, but with a sniffle, she stopped herself short of breaking into tears.


    She had to do better. Even if the homunculus herself willed for something different. Even if she volunteered to be slain, as she already had, Allegra had already decided. She would allow no harm to come her way.

 Chapter 414 - Amidst the Valencian Wind VII

    Chapter 414 - Amidst the Valencian Wind VII


    Virillius proceeded down a long hall as he skimmed through a fresh stack of papers. Sorting through the documents would encompass the better part of his evening¡¯s tasks. There were roughly thirty of them in all, spanning topics from criminal rehabilitation to childhood education. Discussion around the latter point was of particular importance, and on any other day, Virillius likely would have been stewing over its many implications. But on that particular evening, he found himself unable to focus.


    His daughter¡¯s presence was certainly a major contributor. Her being in Cadria produced a fair bit of work, much of it stemming from the division between those who knew her identity and those kept in the dark. Drawing the line was difficult, and maintaining it was a behemoth of a task for everyone involved. It didn¡¯t help that she wasn¡¯t being subtle. In fact, it barely seemed like she was trying to hide it at all.


    Sure, she kept her face out of sight and steered clear of her old acquaintances, but she had refrained from adopting a pseudonym and many of her allies used her name with little hesitation. Of course, her moniker alone didn¡¯t say much of her identity. Claire was a foreign name to begin with¡ªVirillius would have preferred something more local, but Violet had insisted on a blatant descriptor¡ªif anything, its Ryllian origin meant that it was far more common in Vel¡¯khan than it was in Cadria, though its use had certainly spread since he announced his daughter¡¯s birth.


    Combined with the fake¡¯s presence, the frozen spike in her chest, and the hiding of her ears, her identity was largely obscured. Or at least that was how it was for the general public. Most soldiers thought nothing of the coincidence, but for those who overflowed with curiosity, such as the many informants planted by the rich and noble, her origin was easily grasped. Confirming one¡¯s suspicions took little more than peering into her window at night or giving her mana a scan.


    But while certainly stressful, the unkept secret was far from his greatest concern. Nay, it was replaced just earlier that day by his newfound tail.


    He saw it¡ªher¡ªwhenever he glanced at the reflections that danced within the castle¡¯s windows. The foreigner must have thought herself rather sneaky, given that his secret service had actively refrained from catching her, but he could feel her eyes following his every movement.


    He wouldn¡¯t have minded if she was simply watching him or evaluating the extent of his power, but there was something else in her gaze, something that sent an uncomfortable shiver up the length of his spine. He wasn¡¯t unfamiliar with the accompanying sentiment. Sometimes, the new recruits would make similar eyes in his direction, though usually it was not for long. Most moved on within a few months so long as he continued to ignore their advances.


    Being Cadrian, rather than Vel¡¯khanese, they generally showed more respect for morals and moral decency. At the very least, none were improper enough to stalk him to his study after following him for a whole afternoon.


    To make matters worse, she showed herself as soon as he sat down. Locking the door behind her, the foreign maid pulled up a chair in front of his desk and very intentionally planted her chest atop it. Avoiding the exposed valley¡ªshe had long removed her apron and unbuttoned her shirt¡ªhe raised his eyes to find her staring. It wasn¡¯t just the hungry look that filled them. There was something else as well, something oddly hypnotic accompanied by a spark of magic.


    Whatever she tried was to no avail. The mana in his body was far too dense for her spell to take effect.


    Deciding to ignore her, as well as any further attempts she made, Virillius grabbed a quill and started working his way through the first of his many documents. She demanded his attention by shoving her chest right into his face, but he avoided the attack with a deft swivel and continued his work. Perhaps a little peeved, the maid reached for his cheeks, but again, he ducked away and avoided her touch.


    The interaction repeated seven times before he finally breathed a sigh and acknowledged her presence.


    ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°I was hoping you could do me a favour.¡± The half-succubus licked her lips, moistening them just enough that they glistened beneath the afternoon sun.


    ¡°Unfortunately, I am a busy man. You will have to find someone else.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t. You¡¯re the only one I can ask to cuckold my queen.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Virillius barely managed to keep his expression intact, in part because of the claim itself, and in part because the maid was so off putting.


    ¡°I want you to dominate her while I watc¡ª¡±


    The moose pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°You must be lost. Your companions are in the south-western wing.¡±


    ¡°Are you really passing up the chance to have a threesome with not one, but two exotic beau¡ª¡±


    ¡°Get out.¡±


    Lifting her up with a pinch of the belt, he opened the door, dumped her in the hallway, and redid the lock in the blink of an eye.


    Sighing, he stepped back towards his desk, only to hear a set of awfully suspicious sounds. It was a mix of scraping and tapping, the distinct sound of someone trying to pick a lock. He didn¡¯t think too much of it at first. The castle¡¯s security devices used proprietary mechanisms put together by the most skilled artificers in the nation. His patented technology was good enough that even the secret service had trouble breaking through. There was no way a maid, let alone one so deluded, could possibly remove the lock.


    And yet, before he settled in his seat, he caught an audible click.


    Opening just a crack, the maid slipped into the room, but a flying book landed smack in the middle of her forehead before she could encroach further into his domain. It was a perfect strike, applying just enough force to rattle her brain and put her to sleep without an excess of harm. The only downside was that the effect was short lived. It would only be a few minutes before her consciousness returned, maybe less if she could rapidly regenerate.


    Virillius almost wanted to task the guards with taking her away in the meantime, but thankfully, it seemed that no such action was required. That much, he could tell from the lump of magic making its way down the hall.


    Guided by one of Virillius¡¯ maids, the Vel¡¯khanese queen arrived on the scene before Chloe could get back to her feet.


    ¡°I do apologize for her behaviour,¡± said Arciel. A sigh escaped her lips as her eyes fell on her woozy servant. ¡°She was once human, and though she has ascended beyond the race¡¯s confines, her former nature reveals itself in times of stress. Though, I believe this to be the only time that she has acted upon her impulses. If she must be punished, I wish to request a lightened sentence.¡±


    ¡°There was no harm done,¡± said Virillius. He briefly closed his eyes and debated the possibility that the maid might influence his daughter, but he dismissed the thought as quickly as he formed it. Then and only then was he thankful for the mistakes he made in her upbringing.


    Arciel nodded. ¡°Your grace is greatly appreciated.¡±


    With a nearby centaur¡¯s help, she had Chloe grabbed by the scruff of her neck and dragged away.


    Finally, Virillius was given the silence he needed to focus. He picked up the document at the top of the pile and grabbed a freshly inked feather once he finished looking it over. But right as he put his quill to the paper, he found himself distracted again. It was not a silly maid that was the trigger, but a spark of mana. It suddenly appeared on castle grounds, much as Claire often did when she possessed the homunculus¡¯ body. And just as was the case with his daughter, he recognized it in a heartbeat.


    Because it was his brother.


    Constantius¡¯ mana was much thicker than it was during their previous encounter. But of course it was. It had been a thousand years since they last saw each other. Though he was lying low, Virillius would have been more surprised if he hadn¡¯t taken the next step to godhood.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    The familiar presence made its way across the courtyard, moving in a slow but straight line in Virillius¡¯ direction. About ten minutes later, the visitor finally arrived. Knocking on Virillius¡¯ already-open door, the critter that was his brother¡¯s proxy stepped through the entrance with his arms crossed and a grand smile plastered across his face.


    ¡°Constantius.¡±


    ¡°In the flesh. Well, almost.¡± He walked his lardy form over with a wide grin upon his lips. ¡°Long time no see, little brother.¡± The mask started peeling away as he continued his approach; his body inflated as it changed shape, going from that of a morbidly obese raccoon to an alcine cervitaur.


    Like Virillius, he was a snow white moose with a set of giant black antlers. His body featured a fair bit of musculature, but compared to his bulky, protein-drowned brother, he was a thin, stick of a man. Though not as wide, his height loosely matched Virillius¡¯ and his eyes were just as sharp. Rather than the clean shave that his brother sported, Constantius had stubble all over his face and a fuzzy goatee hanging from his chin.


    His mane was likewise much longer. Though Virillius¡¯ sometimes grew out, it was always more orderly than the wild mess of a mop that sat on Constantius¡¯ head. The distinction was even clearer in the present, as he had just gotten a standard military style cut ahead of his daughter¡¯s arrival.


    ¡°Surprised to see me?¡± The older sibling twisted his lips into a smirk. ¡°I bet you had no idea I was still kicking.¡±


    ¡°You had me fooled for a thousand years,¡± said Virillius. His voice a low snarl, he rose from his seat with his eyes turned golden and his ears pinned back. The magic that radiated from his body, the magic that filled the room, was dense enough to choke a man with two ascensions. And yet, his brother was unflinching. ¡°I would have done nothing if you simply wormed your way out of the woodwork and lived out your days in peace. But you had to stain your hands again.¡±


    Constantius laughed. ¡°What, did you think you were the only one who holds grudges? Use your head, kiddo. We¡¯re from the same stock.¡±


    Virillius refused to comment. He knew better than to engage his brother in a battle of words. Riling him was the older moose¡¯s speciality and there was nothing to gain from an unnecessary exchange.


    ¡°State your business.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on Virillius. Sure, I might be a bit of a money grubber, but it¡¯s not like I need business to check in on my widdle brother, you know?¡± Constantius made a show of shaking his head as he sank into one of the chairs. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you turned out like this after all the effort I put into raising you.¡±


    Only by biting his inner lip did Virillius keep himself from raising his voice.


    ¡°State your business,¡± he repeated. He was tempted to obliterate the other moose outright. The only reason he didn¡¯t was because he knew that it was a waste of effort. He wasn¡¯t really there. The body wasn¡¯t his, and he could easily replace it with any other. Lashing out would accomplish little more than damaging the castle.


    ¡°Man, Virillius, you really need to get that stick out of your ass.¡± His brother breathed an exaggerated sigh and allowed the weight of his antlers to pull his head into his luxurious backrest. ¡°It¡¯s like father always said. He who has a stick up their ass will be too blinded by pleasure to see the path to profit.¡±


    It was, of course, not a real quote. Though their father certainly did offer many words of advice, his were grounded and sensible, completely unlike the drivel loosed from his brother¡¯s lips.


    ¡°State your business or leave.¡±


    His eyes and lips curved in tandem and extended far beyond the standard specifications. It was the sort of demonic look capable of instilling the fear of god into a non-believer, the sort that would convince a child to stay home at night and follow only their parents¡¯ guidance.


    He was almost more wolf than moose, though with his nature twisted as it was, it was but a proper reflection.


    ¡°I just thought I wanted to let you know,¡± he said. ¡°That your daughter is truly a joy to speak with.¡±


    Virillius barely stopped the colour from draining from his face.


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t dare.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t I?¡± Paired with a cackle, the words were barely intelligible. ¡°Not like it matters that much, does it? You can always make another on¡ªoh wait! Violet¡¯s dead! I wonder how that happened!¡±


    Virillius kicked off the ground with such force that the castle¡¯s magically reinforced floor exploded into a gravelly mist. Twisting his arm, he delivered a chop imbued with raw magic and further empowered with the concept of severance.


    Constantius was sliced in half. A long, perfect cut ran from his shoulder down to his waist. And yet, even as Virillius seized control of his blood and drained it from his body, the older moose continued to laugh.


    ¡°Hit a sore spot, did I?¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll take good care of her. I mean, truth be told, she¡¯s more likely mine than yours in the first pla¡ª¡±


    Another strike cut him off. The second blow ripped through his neck and destroyed his throat and tongue in tandem. And yet, his voice was still present.


    ¡°Now that¡¯s just rude, little brother. I still have more to say.¡± Spinning around to face the voice¡¯s source, Virillius found Constantius sitting in another chair with his hooves kicked up and a bottle to his lips. ¡°Where was I again? Oh, right, ranting.¡± A smile appeared on his lips. ¡°There¡¯s nothing that you can do, Virillius, to stop anything that I¡¯ve put in motion. I¡¯ve already seized control of the markets and bagged all my profits. All that¡¯s left is for you to sit around and watch as it all unfolds.¡±


    ¡°What are you planning?¡±


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be much of a surprise if I told you, would it?¡±


    Gnashing his teeth, Virillius was barely able to keep himself from lunging at his brother again.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± said Constantius, ¡°as much as I¡¯d like to keep toying with you, I have things to do and places to be, so I guess I¡¯ll have to get down to business. Granted, calling it business is a bit of an overstatement. In reality, Virillius, the only reason I¡¯m here is to tell you that Vella¡¯s switching gears.¡±


    Virillius¡¯ gaze sharpened. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°Stop playing dumb with me, you little shit. I¡¯m talking about the whole setup that she had going on from day one. You know, the one that led to me killing our parents and sending you up north to suffer.¡°


    ¡°You knew?¡±


    ¡°Of course I knew, little brother.¡± Constantius twisted his lips into a grin. ¡°The people have always called you Vella¡¯s chosen and whatnot even though no one¡¯s ever seen your mark. They¡¯ve always suspected that it was hidden somewhere out of sight, intentionally obscured and never relied upon. But I know the truth.¡± Another devilish smile crossed his lips. ¡°You failed her trial. Vella never gave you the champion¡¯s brand.¡±


    The mark in question was an inscription, a distinct insignia left by a deity to those who were directly empowered. Every god¡¯s was different. Kael¡¯ahruus left a lion¡¯s face etched into the bearer¡¯s chest. Griselda placed a glowing half-moon directly atop the forehead. And Primrose left a line of thorns that ran up the length of the spine.


    Not every deity was so consistent, however. Flux¡¯s hourglass was etched directly atop an organ, with the particular choice depending on the species¡¯ biology. Dorr¡¯s anvil could be placed wherever and was often hidden by way of hair. And despite being the goddess of order, Flitzegarde often put her paw mark wherever she happened to deem fit.


    Vella¡¯s banner-crossed spear was no different. It would simply manifest wherever she placed it¡ª


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty obvious. Since, you know, she gave it to me instead.¡±


    ¡ªlike in the palm of Constantius¡¯ hand.


    ¡°I have no need for borrowed power,¡± said Virillius.


    ¡°Maybe, maybe not. We¡¯ll have to see what your citizens say,¡± said the older moose. ¡°The clock is ticking, Virillius. I can hardly wait.¡±


    ¡°Your threats mean nothing.¡± His face returned to its usual, composed state, Virillius swept his hand through his brother¡¯s skull and promptly destroyed his false form.


    Constantius was happy to return to his body. Laughing quietly, he lifted his frame from the base of the tree where he had fallen asleep and gave his back a stretch. The pleasant drowsiness that had stemmed from his nap remained with him as he cracked his neck, flexed his fingers, and loosened his legs. It had been a long time since he last toyed with his brother face to face, and it had proven just as fun as it had on every occasion.


    But just as he was about to reach into his bag and grab a snack, he found his joyful mood suddenly blown away. The hairs on his neck rose and his heartbeat suddenly accelerated as he was struck by a sense of malaise. Driven half by intuition, he turned in the direction of the Valencian castle, only to find a spear buried smack in the middle of his ribcage.


    The projectile ripped through his body before striking the ground behind him. He couldn¡¯t tell at first glance, but as he looked closer, he realised that it was made of blood, though there was really no need to check. The evidence had already started to blossom from within his body.


    All of the vital fluid in his veins rushed out of his frame at once. It escaped his pores like clay from a fist and left him a dried out husk. One of his brother¡¯s standard, proprietary spells.


    It was almost comical to know that it had struck him. He was three towns away from Valencia, a full sixty kilometers from their point of contact. And yet, Virillius had followed the scant trace of mana that accompanied his mental link and released a weapon that landed perfectly on target.


    There was nothing for Constantius to do in the face of such a ridiculous assault but throw back his head and laugh.


    ¡°Oh, Virillius.¡± He spoke to no one in particular as his flesh slowly regained its colour. ¡°You truly are the best little brother that money can buy.¡±


    Twisting his lips into a grin, Constantius grabbed a change of clothes from his bag and headed for the nearest river. It wouldn¡¯t be long before Virillius¡¯ men came after him, but they were nothing, worthless tools that would fail to threaten or even correctly track his person.


    His bath was of far greater importance.

 Chapter 415 - Amidst the Valencian Wind VIII

    Chapter 415 - Amidst the Valencian Wind VIII


    Claire kept a steady gaze on the cheap wall-mirror in front of her as she strung her hair together. She made sure that every strand was perfectly placed, manipulating her vectors with far more care and precision than she ever had in battle. It was a task barely enabled by the public bathhouse¡¯s implements, made possible only on account of the fact that Cadria¡¯s technology was leaps and bounds ahead of what one might find abroad. Though a little foggy and in need of constant wiping, the private stall¡¯s reflectors were polished enough that the only trouble she had stemmed from a lack of experience; the arrangement of her hair had always been something she had left to her servants.


    Only once she was happy with the braided bun did Claire turn her attention to her ears. She folded them in on their bases and secured them with a pair of silver ear cuffs, effectively halving their apparent length. Even then, their size was well in excess of the national average. She could have folded and halved them again to further reduce their appeal, but she was unwilling to compromise. For her next destination, her appearance was of greater importance than any sort of secrecy.


    It was for that same reason that she did away with her armour. The metal was transformed into a series of expensive garments. The top half of her body was covered in a mulberry silk blouse further protected by a rib-knit, cashmere sweater. Though a plain cream colour, its quality was evident from the complete lack of loose threads.


    Her bottom half sported a pleated, cervelt skirt along with a set of formal, five-centimeter heels made of Langgbjern-sourced leather. She had a hat, a scarf, and a pair of mittens as well, though more for fashion and inconspicuity than to stave off the coming winter. Everyone else was geared for the season, and though she had removed her metal disguise, she did at least make some effort to minimize the attention she drew.


    Stealth was also the reason she had chosen to change in a bathhouse. The free, public institutions were always flooded in the afternoon. The sheer volume of people they drew made them perfect for escaping the spies in charge of her observation.


    Checking the mirror again, the lyrkress nodded in satisfaction and considered her route of escape. She still wasn¡¯t quite sure how she was meant to evade her observers. They were sure to start stalking her again as soon as she exited the building.


    The most obvious choice was to take them out, but it didn¡¯t seem wise. She neither wanted to reveal her hand nor engage in any activities likely to mess up her freshly done hair.


    She settled on prioritizing the latter after giving herself another once over. First were the stalkers who relied on artifacts. She grabbed ahold of their magical devices and compressed them into a series of tiny, dysfunctional spheres. Only once they were fully disabled did she seize the less technically reliant with her vectors directly; she ripped them from their vantage points and sent them spiraling into the ground.


    With thirteen of them in all, the scene caused an immediate commotion¡ªa commotion she used to slip into the crowd unnoticed. Engaging her sneaking skill, she slunk between the shadows and made her way through the city. She was only half certain that it would work, but the enhancement provided by the god of the depths proved far more potent than she had expected. She found, as she moved through the streets, that most of the eyes on her back were gone. Perhaps because none of the agents were her father¡¯s, or perhaps because they were simply underprepared, only one had immediately recovered and tried to chase after her, but she promptly broke his legs with a series of wayward forces; without any armour to boost his magical resistance, it proved surprisingly simple.


    Satisfied with her handiwork, she continued on her way. It didn¡¯t take long for her to pass through the southernmost gate and waltz into the forest beyond it.


    ¡°Claire!¡±


    Though her sneaking skill was still active, she found a fox beelining towards her when she turned to face the voice. Sylvia pranced through the fallen leaves, and leapt into her best friend¡¯s chest. Or at least that was what she tried to do.


    Taking off one of her mittens, Claire grabbed the furball by the scruff of her neck and stopped her shy of impact.


    ¡°Fix your paws,¡± she said. ¡°They¡¯re filthy.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ okay, I guess.¡± Sylvia was a little confused, but she hummed a quick tune and removed all the grime.


    ¡°Good dog.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a dog, what the heck!¡± huffed the fox.


    ¡°Foxes are just orange dogs.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not true! Some of us are kinda grey or black. And we¡¯re not dogs!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I believe you.¡±


    Pulling Sylvia into her chest, Claire continued to trek through the wooded land. She followed the path of a very specific leyline and came to a stop in front of a conspicuous hole.


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­ I don¡¯t think we¡¯re supposed to be here,¡± said Sylvia.


    The tiny tunnel was marked with a wooden sign that bore House Augustus¡¯ insignia¡ªthe tip of a spear with a spider engraved into its socket. The crest was accompanied by the declaration that entry was unlawful and that any violators would be struck down immediately upon their discovery.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said Claire.


    Despite the claim, there had never once been any such execution. It was half because the people respected her father¡¯s authority, and half because entry was nigh impossible to begin with; the tunnel was too small for even a cottontail to fit through, and the magic that reinforced the walls made digging through its sides a near impossible task. The barrier placed around the entrance was just as much of a deterrent, albeit not for Claire. It opened when she approached, revealing an entrance tuned perfectly for her size and shape. The tunnel¡¯s reaction was similar. It swelled so she could pass through, growing large enough for a comfortable stroll.


    ¡°So where are we going anyway?¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°Somewhere important.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡± Claire lightly scratched the fox¡¯s chin and continued ahead.


    Though they were underground, directly beneath the forest, their surroundings were completely devoid of vegetation. None of the tree¡¯s roots were anywhere to be seen, and there wasn¡¯t even the faintest hint of moss growing within the tunnel.


    It wasn¡¯t like the environment was inhospitable¡ªit was just damp enough for things to grow, courtesy of the recent snowfall, and there was plenty of light streaming in from up ahead¡ªit was simply well maintained. A certain someone had taken the time to ensure that the tunnel was clean despite otherwise being incredibly busy on account of his kingly duties. It couldn¡¯t have been anyone else. She and her father were the only two permitted to enter the space. Lest brought along as guests, any other would-be visitors were outright denied.


    The end of the tunnel opened up into a bright field. It was a meadow in the middle of the forest, though it was difficult to say if it was truly in the forest at all. There wasn¡¯t a single tree to be found; the towering stone walls kept them out of sight.


    Together, the pillars folded inwards to form something of an incomplete dome. Enough of the sky was exposed that the field was still brightly lit, with all of the brightest beams coming together near the center of the secret garden. The place of their convergence was the one spot where the flowers still bloomed¡ªwhere one could find a lone rock standing among the flowers. It was a perfectly carved headstone with her mother¡¯s name engraved. From what Allegra had told her, it was something her father had crafted by hand.


    In the past, Claire had rejected the notion. She thought it impossible with how little he cared, how he always left her side¡ªfor as long as Claire could remember, her mother was always sickly and often completely bedridden. Sometimes, her condition would worsen. They took dramatic turns for the worse that none of Cadria¡¯s healers could solve. Those were the times when she needed the most support. And those were the times that her father always left for war.


    But looking upon the gravestone again, with her ocular faculties far improved, she was more inclined to believe the rabbit¡¯s claim. The sides were perfectly cut and the name was lovingly engraved. The task was performed with such impossible dexterity, and the stone was shaved so perfectly that it was difficult to believe that it was anyone else¡¯s handiwork. Because it was the very same perfect attention to detail given to the tunnel¡¯s maintenance.


    Claire frowned as she recalled her father¡¯s indifference¡ªthe mask that he had continued to wear throughout her mother¡¯s funeral.


    Perhaps he had his reasons after all. But even so, she couldn¡¯t find it in herself to forgive him. Not for what happened back then, nor any of the events thereafter.


    Silently, Claire strode through the field and sat down by the grave. She removed the clasps on her ears and allowed them to return to their usual shape. And then, still holding Sylvia in her arms, she leaned against the stone and pressed a cheek against it. In the past, it would have been her forehead, but the giant horn that sprouted therefrom rendered the act impossible.


    A cool sensation spread from the place of contact, just as it had in the past. Claire was well aware that, in reality, it was all in her head. Her body was far colder than the polished stone. The sensation came more from her memories than it did from her nerves, but she basked in it regardless. It was the only reminder she had of her mother¡¯s touch. Up high in the sky, atop her father¡¯s fortress, her mother¡¯s hands had always been just as frigid.


    Claire closed her eyes and entrusted her weight to the headstone as a soft smile crept its way onto her lips. To her own surprise, she didn¡¯t feel like talking. When she was younger, she often came to the grave to report on all of the things she did or felt. But even though the last two years had been the most eventful yet, her lips remained unmoving.


    Somehow, it just felt right.


    Because she was silent, because the whole valley was silent, it felt like they had reconnected.


    She stayed like that for the better part of ten minutes, opening her eyes again only as she felt a gust of wind against her cheeks. When she looked at the grave through her bleary eyes, she almost felt like she could see her mother¡¯s spirit, but it was only for the briefest of moments.


    She knew it was a hallucination, a vision born of the desires and the petals sent aflutter. Still, it filled her with strength. Standing up and squeezing her pet even closer, she raised her eyes from the grave and looked towards the sun overhead.


    ¡°Hey, Claire?¡± Sylvia spoke up, sensing the opportunity to break the silence.


    ¡°Mhm?¡±


    ¡°What kind of person was your mother?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure how to answer that,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ what do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to insult her while we¡¯re standing in front of her grave.¡±


    ¡°W-wait, insult her!?¡±


    Claire laughed. ¡°It¡¯s too hard not to. She was always a bit of an idiot.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmmm¡­¡±


    The fox¡¯s pensive look was met with a poke to the nose.


    ¡°I¡¯m not saying it to make fun of her. It¡¯s true.¡± Claire closed her eyes and looked back on some of her fondest memories. ¡°Mother loved to tease people, even when it was inappropriate. She played dumb all the time, and she always did her best to get out of everything even when it was obvious that she was in the wrong. She was really silly. But that was also why I loved her.¡±


    ¡°Is it just me, or does that explain literally everything?¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡± The snoose pinched the fox¡¯s cheeks before continuing. ¡°She only ever got serious when she scolded me and told me stories.¡± Her eyes glazed over. ¡°Her stories were the best. She didn¡¯t sing, but her versions were always more interesting than the bards¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Sylvia opened her eyes wide. ¡°I thought the bards in town were pretty good.¡±


    ¡°They are,¡± said Claire, ¡°but my mother was better. She was why I always wanted to explore the world.¡± She squeezed the fox a little closer before falling back into the field. ¡°If not for her, I probably never would have thought of running away to Llystletein.¡±


    ¡°Your mom sounds like she was loads of fun. I always thought moms were supposed to be crazy.¡±


    ¡°Yours is a bit of an exception,¡± said Claire, with a laugh. ¡°Most of them don¡¯t act like that.¡±


    Sylvia frowned. ¡°Mmmnn¡­ I guess you¡¯re probably right. Lia¡¯s mom was really nice. And Melly¡¯s wasn¡¯t much like mine either.¡±


    Nodding, Claire slowly sat back up and produced an item from the pouch on her waist. Unravelling its paper wrapping, she soon revealed a pile of skewers, bought from a stall in town.


    Sylvia started salivating immediately, but Claire grabbed her by the muzzle and shook her head. She set the whole roasted frogs down in front of the grave and clasped her hands in prayer.


    Again, silence pervaded the scene. Speaking none of the words out loud, she prayed to Krebb, her mother''s guardian deity, and wished for her eternal peace.


    The prayer was unanswered; the roasted frogs remained exactly where they were, but Claire soon stood up with a smile regardless. It wasn¡¯t like she had expected much to begin with. Never once had Krebb given her the light of day, even though her mother was well-beloved. It was only natural. The god of cylinders had never liked the fact that a priestess of his dominion had given herself to one of Vella¡¯s pawns.


    She waited for the breeze to blow again, to flutter her hair as it did the violets adorning the polished grave. And then, as her mother had so many times before her, she spread her arms wide and danced amidst the Valencian wind.

 Chapter 416 - The Weakest Monster

    Chapter 416 - The Weakest Monster


    It was early in the morning when Claire first woke. She rose around sunrise as usual and got up from her bed with a bit of a yawn. Had they not been in Cadria, she would have grabbed her fox and gone out on a morning flight, but the habit had been put on hold for the duration of their stay. There wasn¡¯t enough space to fly freely within the castle¡¯s barrier, and she had to deal with the guards every time she wanted to enter or escape it. It was just too much of a hassle and she spent most of her mornings on meditation instead.


    For a moment, she considered doing just that, but she got to organising all of her things after a twitch of the ears reminded her of the date¡ªnot that she had much luggage to begin with. Sleeping fox, lizard, and spider in tow, she walked out into the common room, where most of the others were already awake and waiting.


    Having thoroughly enjoyed the brief vacation, the party¡¯s members were in a less-than-perfect condition. Krail and Jules were still hungover, and Arciel seemed far more tired than she was upon their arrival. Allegra just looked bored.


    Lana and Chloe were the only two who looked even the slightest bit rejuvenated. The former was much better rested than usual¡ªthe bags under her eyes were gone¡ªwhile the latter was a bundle of energy. She was happily running around, humming a tune as she checked everyone¡¯s luggage and ensured that there was nothing left in any of the rooms.


    ¡°We have gathered much earlier than expected,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I was under the impression that some of us would be inclined to sleep in.¡± She hadn¡¯t specified the time of their departure, only that they would be leaving come morning.


    ¡°Oh, fuck off,¡± said Jules. ¡°I know I let myself go, but it was just a few goddamn days.¡±


    ¡°If you want to blame someone, I would rather you blamed the Cadrian king,¡± said Krail. ¡°The drink he supplied was impossible to resist. You¡¯d understand if you just had a sip. It was one of the single best drinks I¡¯ve ever had.¡±


    ¡°I was not condemning your choices. It is important to rest when it is possible to do so. But seeing that we are all present, I do not believe that there is any reason to wait for much longer.¡± The queen hid a smile beneath her fan. ¡°As many of you have seen, Cadria¡¯s fighters are fierce. As we are at this moment, we are incapable of measuring up to their elites. However, that is not to say that we haven¡¯t the potential.¡± She took a moment to look around and lock eyes with each party member in turn. ¡°I have convened with Allegra and discovered that many of Cadria¡¯s most powerful endured periods of explosive growth. Though their warriors possess centuries more experience, it is during a few key battles and efforts that they earned much of their power. Overcoming them remains as simple as inciting such periods of growth in ourselves, and Allegra has produced an agenda to serve such a result directly.¡±


    Pointing her fan at the Cadrian magus, Arciel stepped away from the spotlight and allowed her to take her spot.


    ¡°The plan is pretty simple,¡± said Allegra. ¡°We¡¯ll be hitting three dungeons on our way north, and as Claire had originally proposed, we¡¯ll be heading into the Langgbjerns to maximize our experience gain. Fortunately, winter is when the northland is safest. Many of the most powerful predators sleep it away while the weaker monsters roam through the mountains unchecked. Still, even some of the prey species can go as high as level 5000. They only remain mortal because they lack the divinity to become celestial.¡± The rabbit adjusted her glasses as she walked the room and handed off a series of notebooks. ¡°I¡¯ve made a few copies of one of our best encyclopedias. I¡¯d like each of you to review it during our journey north. It will cover all the known routes and areas, as well as some details about all of the monsters that we might encounter along the way. In the meantime, I¡¯ll be working with everyone individually to improve your abilities and better tweak them for upcoming duels.¡±


    She continued to go on about something or other, but Claire soon zoned out of the lecture. Thoroughly defeated by the excess of words, she was only barely awake both for breakfast in the mess hall and their turberi¡¯s retrieval. Only when it was time to say goodbye did she snap back to reality.


    And even then, it was just for a moment to wave goodbye to Rubia.


    She cared little for the pleasantries that Arciel exchanged with her father, and even less for any of the looks that he gave her as the carriage started on its journey. All that mattered was that they were back on the road.


    Cadria was far larger than any of the countries they passed along the way. There was still a ways to go before they reached the bitter north.


    ___


    The point of eternal life was to be free from the constraint of time, to escape its constant creeping and its endless encroachment. Immortality was a blessing that brought respite to the overworked and joy to the despondent, a blessing that would allow a drone who had spent a lifetime slaving away for some corporate overlord or other to finally live the sort of slow, laid-back life where an assignment was a rare occurrence. Or at least that was what Olethra had always believed.


    When she was born, as the first child in a family of seven, she found responsibility thrust directly into her hands. It was difficult to describe her parents as the most hardworking or intelligent.


    Her father was the average farm lad. While her homeland, the land that eventually became Cadria, had certainly developed many socioeconomic programs in time, government-sponsored, compulsory education remained absent throughout her father¡¯s formative years. And thus, he became the sort of typical blockhead who spent his day out in the fields, applying the few bits of knowledge that his own father had passed on before him.


    Her mother was even worse. She contributed nothing, neither in terms of income nor work. Instead of doing the typical things that one expected of a housewife, she wasted her days in town, socializing with the other parasitic wives that stood at the top of their village¡¯s social ladder.


    And thus, it fell to Olethra to manage the household. She took care of all of her siblings in her mother¡¯s place. Cooking, cleaning, babysitting and even managing the house¡¯s budget. Everything fell to her.


    Looking back, she knew that to be precisely how her dream was shaped. She still remembered looking enviously out the window and finding the other children in the midst of enjoying their spare time. She recalled wishing to experience their liberties, to know the joy of free time. She wanted to be lazy, for someone to take care of all her needs while she laid back and relaxed.


    At first, she thought she had managed to change everything for the better when she won over the local lord¡¯s son. He wasn¡¯t even a true member of the nobility, but he had been entrusted with a small patch of land, and his household had the riches to match. All of the chores were handled by the servants and as his wife, she needed to do little but live the pampered high life.


    Or at least that was what she had thought at first.


    As a man, her husband was a wonderful person. But as a landlord, he was not quite up to par; he was often bedridden by his weak constitution and denied the ability to work full time.


    She had always suspected that there was much more to be done than what he was able to handle, but after learning to read and write in her newfound free time and subsequently inspecting his documents, she discovered that the situation was far worse than she could have ever imagined. The domain was at risk on account of his faulty management; they owed so much money that the interest payments themselves were nearly enough to make them go bankrupt. As her husband¡¯s dutiful wife, she had no choice but to step in.


    Upon taking matters into her own hands, she found herself busier than ever. She poured all her time and effort into inventing new industries and improving the resident¡¯s lives, and surely enough, under her guidance, everything was put back on track.


    Just like that, ten years passed by. Her husband succumbed to his disease without giving her a child, and she was left to carry on the legacy that his family once held. She couldn¡¯t do it alone, however. Without his influence to back her, she lacked much of the punching power to continue on as she had. And so, she found new allies in the church of weights and measures.


    In her time, it had been a fairly influential organisation. Though not quite as widely worshipped as the gods who gripped each region, Tellius was known across the land as the divine arbitrator who ensured the fairness of trade and exchange. It was he who managed the restrictions around trademarks and patents, he who determined the value of grain, and he who controlled the global currency shared across the land. His church¡¯s backing provided Olethra enough power to maintain her policies and better her people¡¯s lives. And for a while, she felt as if she could see her old goal beyond the horizon¡ªit would not be long before her successor, her brother¡¯s nephew, reached the age of majority and claimed her position. Finally, she would be free from the infernal chains that bound her and allowed a moment of respite.


    Alas, it was not meant to be. The aid that the church had offered her was not one-sided. The deal was for them to help each other through trying times, and the organisation at large soon found itself in need of assistance. For from the mortal realm had risen a fresh god of merchants, one who threatened to depose the deity whose name the church had hailed.


    On the day that her nephew inherited her husband¡¯s legacy, she set off for her god¡¯s home base and began her work in his service. Driven by the oath she swore upon her honour, she worked night and day to see the church of weights and measures placed ahead of the mercantile temple. Her contributions were crucial to turning the tide. Through the excellent rates she offered the common folk, the bribes she paid to the merchants, and the strength and will she demonstrated to the warlords, she was able to tip the scales against the usurper.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    But it was not without cost.


    Nothing was ever without cost.


    All of the time she had spent in the church¡¯s service, the loyalty that she had displayed, only came back around in the form of endless promotions. She moved rapidly up the ladder, going from acolyte to priestess, priestess to bishop, and bishop to apostle. Before she knew it, she sat amongst the cardinals as their highest ranking member. All because her policies had proven every bit as effective as she hoped.


    Perhaps because of the monster hunting routine she often leveraged to blow off her stress, or perhaps because of the many physical conflicts that the mercantile church had brought her, it was also around that time that Olethra acquired her fourth ascension. As a reward for her service, she was christened the aspect of shoestring budgets and made to serve as her god¡¯s mortal symbol.


    Just like all of the others she had experienced before it, it was yet another position that came with an increase in responsibility. And just like every other time, she bottled up her desire for freedom and served with an earnest heart.


    As the years passed, as conflict continued to rock the continent, and as she continued to serve her duty, she continued to grow in power. At some arbitrary point in the past¡ªshe could barely remember exactly when it was, given the tens of thousands years that she had lived¡ªshe took the penultimate step and became a timeless celestial.


    She thought that shedding her mortal shell would finally spell an end to her infinite work, but that was hardly the case. More and more piled on top, until Olethra reached her limit. It was clear that her superior, the god that she had served for so long, was doing it for the sole purpose of harassment, and she would stand for it no longer.


    Declaring her allegiance severed, she challenged Tellius and defeated him in single combat. Taking his divinity as her own, she became the goddess of weights and measures. And in doing so, she discovered that he had never harassed her at all.


    The tired smile he flashed in the wake of her declaration should have clued her in. If anything, he was shielding her, taking on most of the work for himself and leaving her only the simplest of tasks.


    Despair.


    Despair was all she felt as she looked upon the endless stream of transactions queued up for her explicit evaluation.


    Only then did Olethra understand the look of peace that had adorned Tellius¡¯ face upon his passing and the ease with which his defeat had come. And only then did she curse the cunning old bastard for taking the out that he had.


    Tellius had never wanted to defend his throne.


    Like her, he was a tired soul with too big of a burden thrust upon it.


    That was why he had raised her into a celestial in the first place¡ªso he could lessen his workload¡ªand that was likely why had allowed himself to lose. Between obliteration and the endless stream of work that awaited, the former was far and away the superior option.


    Olethra tried at first to fill the seat that she herself had emptied. But she only lasted another few decades before deciding that enough was enough. Even if the goddess of order would look upon her unfavourably, even if the many who relied on her system would cry out in protest, even if the whole world would curse her as a villain, she decided to abandon her post.


    There was no point in eternity if she would spend it chained to her desk.


    Her former contacts tried their damned best to return her to her duty. They visited her space in the mortal realm¡ªshe had chosen an obfuscated place in her homeland, hoping that no one would find her¡ªannoyed her over world chat, and even got all the priests in the world to pray to her in tandem. But she ignored them all. Burying her paws in her ears and forcing her eyes shut, she ignored the world around her until she was left alone.


    Some of the more persistent kept trying. There was a man who had lost half a kingdom¡¯s worth of riches, a woman whose savings were robbed, and even a few gods who saw their coffers scrambled. But Olethra continued to shut them out until the voices were silenced.


    Finally.


    Freedom.


    It was what she had always wanted. A moment to catch her breath without someone breathing down her neck. A brief reverie where she could do as she pleased. A glimpse of the life her mother had lived, oh so many millennia ago. It was everything she pined for, everything she had dreamt for as many years as she could remember.


    For the first time in her eternal life, there was nothing on her mind.


    No tasks came as she sat around and waited. And with no words left to drown out, the world was nothing but silent.


    She kicked back and enjoyed the natural world. She built a house, laid out a field, and sowed her seeds with all the ridiculous velocity that her divinity had bestowed. And then, even after napping for the better part of two weeks, she found that there was nothing to do but wait¡ªwait and wallow in her misery.


    Paradise quickly became another living hell.


    Because the only thing worse than being busy was having nothing to do.


    Still, she remained where she was. She didn¡¯t dare return to her duties after shirking them for so long. She couldn¡¯t even imagine what it would be like to bear the accompanying shame.


    And thus, she suffered in silence, in what seemed like an eternal boredom as the seasons passed her by.


    She didn¡¯t harvest her crops or even work on her fields anymore. There was no point. As a goddess, she didn¡¯t need to eat to live, nor even live at all.


    Everything blurred together as she lazed around, sleeping and waking haphazardly as the forest reclaimed her fields, her house, and even her physical form. Soon, she had nothing left but her own hubris and depravity. And yet, the clock continued to turn.


    Until she awoke to a distant voice.


    Somehow, even though it had been five thousand years since she was last worshipped, there was a mortal calling her name. She wasn¡¯t exactly happy to be called upon, and she was even more unhappy to be mislabeled as the goddess of hidden riches, but she was bored enough that she decided to appear in front of him.


    A frown on her lips and her face in her hands, the goddess of weights and measures manifested. It had been a long time since she had last taken shape. Having already half lost her sense of self, she found the result distorted. She almost looked half like the woodland that had swallowed up her body. Though her overall form was still that of a humanoid parasaurolophus, her furthest extremities had all been turned to wood.


    The man who had summoned her was overjoyed. Falling to his hands and knees, he cried his heart out and besought her for her aid. Frankly, the power and influence he asked for was completely out of her jurisdiction, and the last thing she wanted was for one of her old compatriots to come knocking, after she unskillfully encroached upon their domains. So she gave him the one thing she knew.


    Gold.


    Money rained down into the space in front of him, seemingly appearing out of thin air.


    In reality, it was not that. She was merely recouping the amount that would have remained in his possession had he optimized his spending and tightened the strings of his purse.


    Though a little confused at first¡ªher subsequent disappearance no doubt played a part in that¡ªhe soon began to revel in the heaps and piles of coin that she had bestowed upon him. And soon, he began telling tales of his experience in earnest.


    He drew in more mortals with his vigour and spun a tale of her origin. It was an outright fabrication. Her name was the only part that rang true. But Olethra did nothing to stop him.


    By the time she realised, a few miracles later, the man had grown her following into something of a cult. It was certainly a bit of a questionable outcome, one that the other gods would certainly criticize, but Olethra reasoned that the fault was barely her own.


    Her followers seemed upstanding before her. Never once did they conduct any strange rituals in her presence¡ªit was only by waking more frequently and spying upon their deeds that she recognized their clinical insanity.


    Still, the goddess was unconcerned.


    The most that she did to combat their madness was to occasionally ignore their prayers. And yet, their faith refused to wane. Perhaps because they were cultists to begin with, and perhaps because they had failed to recognize that she was a part of the pantheon, they assumed that her power was limited.


    She never corrected them. In fact, she never spoke to any of them at all or bestowed any revelations, despite her so-called pope claiming otherwise. She simply didn¡¯t want to be involved. Her infinite boredom remained the only reason she continued to answer their prayers.


    Or at least that was how it was before everything changed again.


    One fateful day, some five years after her name was rediscovered, she awoke to a peculiar series of sounds. It took her a moment to recognize it with her mind all hazy, but the clashing of blades was unmistakable.


    Projecting her consciousness and peering through the cult¡¯s headquarters, she found her worshippers in the midst of an enemy raid. Though some of them were surprisingly high level, the cultists could do little when faced with the invading trio. They were simply too powerful. The tiger and the man worked as one, while the woman was practically a steel tornado.


    Perhaps realising that victory would certainly elude them, the leader of Olethra¡¯s cult scrambled to the altar and fell to his knees. He begged for power, to be named her champion so he could turn the tides against the hunt god¡¯s chosen.


    The goddess was hesitant to do him the honour, but at the same time, though entirely misguided, he was her most fervent adherent. She would certainly still live even after her cult¡¯s destruction. Even as a champion, there was nothing the lion-marked man could do to pose a threat to her person. But at the same time, the self-proclaimed pope was the only source of entertainment she had. He was the one person capable of providing her a break from the endless monotony that was the flow of time.


    And so, she eventually complied. Bestowing her mark¡ªa pair of silver coins¡ªwithin the man¡¯s eyes, she transformed him into a champion, a fighter blessed with the might of an ancient deity.


    But even then, it was hopeless. The pope soon fell to their blades and damned her to another eternity of silence. Or at least that was what she had thought before the hunt god¡¯s chosen turned his eyes to the place she had projected her consciousness.


    ¡°Olethra, goddess of weights and measures.¡±


    She felt her vision clear as he evoked the title she had lost to time. All of her dull senses awakened at once, flooding her mind with a strange sense of excitement.


    ¡°Join us on our journey, and we will alleviate your boredom.¡±


    She didn¡¯t know how he knew. She had never told anyone about the curse with which she was afflicted after abandoning her duties. It had to be some sort of trap. Else it was too perfect, too good to be true.


    And yet, she manifested regardless.


    Accepting his extended hand with her own, she found her purpose anew.

 Chapter 417 - The Weakest Monster II

    Chapter 417 - The Weakest Monster II


    The journey between the capital and the northernmost domain was one best measured in weeks. At a standard trot, it took exactly one, but with dungeons and training thrown into the mix, ten days was quickly inflated to thirty.


    Winter was in full swing by the time they set foot in Lord Postumus¡¯ domain. The snow was constant. Even with local workers clearing out the roads with shovels, there was a full meter on the ground at all times. But such was life in the northland.


    Cadria¡¯s crowning province was simultaneously far enough north and close enough to the coast that a new storm would roll in each morning. Sometimes, it was a light flurry, with only a few hints of white powder falling from the sky. But far more often than not, it came in the form of a blizzard, as it did in the present. It was almost normal for the forests to be entirely obscured¡ªnot that there would have been much to see even if they weren¡¯t. The woods were packed with nothing but evergreens. Pines and conifers flooded the wintery landscape, painting a canvas of white and green monotony.


    And yet, Claire was more excited than she was when they passed through Valencia. While the rest of the party sat in the carriage, she alone trudged through the snow. She was maybe fifty meters in front of the others, her eyes shining as she looked ahead. Mariabelle, her closest maid and confidant, had told her many things about the northern lands, and seeing them for herself, she found that most of them were true.


    Just as she was told, there were fat beaver-snakes slithering all over, felling trees to create dens made of frozen wood. The shadows often trembled unnaturally, hinting at the presence of stralphs¡ªbrain-eating baboons that lived in freezing cold darkness. And the sentient storms, the bird-like creatures that made up the very winds, were every bit as undeniable as Mariabelle had always described.


    Had her body been any better with the cold, she certainly would have visited much earlier. Alas, the Claire of the past would have become a popsicle as soon as she was exposed to the biting winter winds.


    In the present, the exact opposite was true. Claire was the only one who remained unbothered. Everyone else had at least put on something to stave off the cold. Boris had a tiny hat, Sylvia had a bright red scarf, and the turberi had cute little outfits that made them look more like poodles than sea creatures. In much the same vein, Starrgort had practically transformed into a ball of insulated silk. Though it appeared somewhat exaggerated, his so-called outfit was hardly out of the norm.


    A minimum of four full layers adorned each of the party¡¯s remaining members. Most doubled up on either shirts or sweaters, with only Allegra going the extra mile and wearing two layers of everything. Though she had seen many times prior, the sight of the rabbit inflated to twice her usual size was one that Claire found incredibly bizarre.


    Cottontails were supposed to be highly resistant to the cold. Their species was well adapted enough that children would play outside in nothing but their fur. And yet, there Allegra was, shivering to the point of near-death. Though for her, it was nothing out of the ordinary. Despite having made her name in the northern lands, she often refused to go outside in the winter and huddled up by the fire instead.


    Like the rabbit, the Postumus domain was considered particularly peculiar, with even its moniker a point of differentiation. Most of the nation¡¯s lords shared their names with its provinces¡ªthe Titus county was ruled by a Count Titus, the Pollux march was ruled by a Marquis Pollux, and so on and so forth¡ªbut Lord Postumus ruled over the Amrinia march.


    A quick look through history revealed the reason. Both the province of Amrinia and its identically named capital city had stood for much longer than the Postumus house. It originally existed as a key part of the thoraen domain¡ªtheir final bastion, meant more as a last resort than a hospitable location given its proximity to the Langgbjerns. Only with many developments in technology did it blossom to the point of safety. If not for Canterbell¡¯s barrier devices, it would have been wiped off the map within a few decades at most. But with the protectors¡¯ widespread use, it had become a blossoming provincial capital, a winter oasis to ward off the frozen desert.


    Or at least that was the impression she got as the storm suddenly broke. Looking upon it for herself, she soon realised that Mariabelle had failed to properly inform her of the extent of its beauty. The city appeared as would a massive temple. It was built of brilliant white stone with arches placed all over. Above the snow, within the sky, among the clouds. Everywhere the sky was obstructed, she saw the magnificent structures.


    The base level supports rose from within a pool of yet liquid water, somehow unfrozen despite the boreal climate. The lake was a brilliant blue, the same colour as the clear sky that sat directly above it. The blizzard that she had been stuck in was suddenly removed from the space in front of her. It was still there behind her, but within the bounds of the city¡¯s influence, or more specifically the storm-warding artifact that sat near its square, there wasn¡¯t a hint of precipitation.


    Many of the buildings sat on stilts. They were supported either by arches of their own, or those that raised the stone slab foundation that kept the city from drowning. But those that sat at the ground level, those still susceptible to the brain-eating baboons, only made up a tiny piece of the city¡¯s whole. The vast majority of its constructs stood far above the ground, standing in open defiance against the concept of gravity.


    At a glance, it looked like there was nothing to hold them up. Unlike the floating castles found all across the country, Amrinia¡¯s airborne buildings were devoid of magical generators. The extent of their verticality was another obvious indicator of the difference in their technological backbones. Flying fortresses needed to be more wide than tall so as to remain stable in the air. Any castle with an excess of upwards expansion was one that was sure to rock and capsize. The ideal ratio was ten meters of width for every one of height¡ªa ratio that the Amrinian towers flipped on its head. They extended so far into the sky that they looked more like overgrown speartips than buildings.


    There were large walkways between them, floating paths in the sky resembling both bridges and ramparts, but with their supports few, far between, and often floating as well, they failed to explain how anything was held in place.


    For those who looked upon the city for the first time, without understanding the unique mechanisms that allowed for its shape, it appeared as would a work of god.


    She was tempted to run ahead, but Claire spun around and returned to the carriage. She lightly shook her body down with a series of vectors and jumped into the seat beside the driver¡¯s.


    ¡°Anything I should be worried about?¡± asked Krail, with a yawn.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± said Claire. ¡°The city¡¯s up ahead. You¡¯ll see it after you crest the hill.¡±


    ¡°Finally,¡± he said, with a grunt.


    ¡°Wait, we¡¯re there now?¡± asked Sylvia. Her ears twitched as she stretched her body and rose from Lana¡¯s lap. Being made of fur, the tiny wolf girl was the warmest of the party¡¯s members. All of the animals, Allegra included, had long abandoned their inhibitions and cuddled up.


    ¡°Do you want to dry off?¡± asked Chloe. She handed over both a towel and a blanket, but Claire shook her head and took a seat.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°No point. We¡¯ll be there in a few minutes.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be nice to finally get out of the storm,¡± said the maid.


    ¡°U-unfortunately, t-t-the city isn¡¯t g-g-g-going to be much warmer.¡± Allegra chattered like a woodpecker as she forced the words out of her mouth. ¡°A-a-and w-w-w-w-we¡¯ll have to depart s-soon i-if we want to get any t-t-training done.¡±


    ¡°I have every intention of initiating our training after a single day¡¯s rest,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Oh, come on. One fucking day ain¡¯t gonna do shit,¡± said Jules. ¡°At least give us two so we can get all drunk and shit.¡±


    ¡°I am under the impression that the duration of our rest shall have little influence on your alcohol consumption.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but that ain¡¯t the point. It¡¯s more guilt free when I know I don¡¯t got shit to do the next day. Not to mention, I kinda want to put that medallion thing we got to use.¡± He wasn¡¯t able to carry it on his person on account of his lack of pockets, but the royal crest was fresh enough in everyone¡¯s minds that they quickly understood.


    ¡°It shall certainly prove as quite the prank should they fail to suffice as claimed,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I cannot begin to fathom the effect that it would have on our budget.¡±


    ¡°Well, for one, we¡¯d probably have to cut out all the snacks,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°Snacks¡­¡± echoed Lana, sadly.


    ¡°W-wait, that doesn¡¯t mean the fish too, does it?¡± asked Sylvia, nervously.


    ¡°Of course it would,¡± said Chloe. ¡°We spend more on fish than on all of our other supplies combined. It¡¯d be the first place we start to cut.¡±


    ¡°W-wait, hold on!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°T-that¡¯s just unreasonable! Let¡¯s uhmmm¡­ sit down and talk about this!¡±


    ¡°Stop worrying.¡± Claire booped the fox¡¯s nose. ¡°The medals aren¡¯t fake. Father is petty, but he isn¡¯t that petty.¡±


    ¡°Oh, whew¡­¡±


    The carriage finally broke through the blizzard as the fox breathed a sigh of relief. The storm¡¯s sudden disappearance drew the whole party¡¯s attention. As she observed their reactions and followed their eyes, Claire felt just a faint hint of pride. It didn¡¯t make much in the way of sense. She knew that, if anything, she should have been proud when they looked upon Valencia.


    It wasn¡¯t like she knew much about Amrinia in the first place. But somehow, the irrational feeling continued to swell in her chest.


    Her own eyes soon shifted towards the city¡¯s centerpiece¡ªthe floating castle that lay half-submerged in the unfrozen lake. It was Mariabelle¡¯s home. More accurately, it was the place that had become her home in the wake of her wedding. Claire had been invited to the accompanying ceremony, but she had skipped it in favour of staying in Vel¡¯khan. Perhaps if their security was light enough, she could pay her a visit and make up for the prior decision, but she highly doubted that it would prove possible.


    Those who lived in the Postumus domain were among the cream of the crop.


    They had to be.


    Even the non-Langgbjern species that roamed the surrounding lands had their levels well above a thousand. It was said that stralphs were conceived with three ascensions, and that their children slew each other in the womb so that only the strongest was born. It seemed like an awfully extreme behaviour, but so far north, it was an absolute necessity.


    The Langgbjerns were packed to the brim with dungeons. There was not a member of the pantheon without a difficult trial up in the mystic mountains. It was simply the perfect location. The sheer amount of ambient magic allowed the gods to go hog wild and install all manner of features without having to concern themselves with the magical economy thereof. And though many of the trials went untaken, courtesy of a lack of qualified examinees, they exerted their influence on the world around them.


    Spawn rates within the dungeons were high enough across the board that a horde of monsters was ousted from its birthplace each day. The poor evictees were left to wander the mountains in search of new homes. It was only natural that they would come into conflict with others who shared their fate and grow stronger from their repeated skirmishes.


    Those driven all the way out of the mountains would naturally prey on the monsters and people who lived in the foothills. To remain in their presence and perhaps even drive them away, the area¡¯s inhabitants had to be tough enough to survive repeated encounters.


    The guards standing outside the city¡¯s gate served as the prime examples. There were quite a few of them present, roughly two dozen in all. There was only one way to leave Amrinia¡¯s bounds. The east and west were both walled off, both for safety, and because there was no reason for any such exits to exist. Amrinia was the single closest settlement to the Langgbjerns. Every single one of the roads that stemmed from the city came with a decrease in latitude.


    One could apply the same logic to assume that the northern gate was missing as well, but there was a fairly large door present. There weren¡¯t trodden paths that led up into the mountains, and the gate was never opened for public use, but it remained as a convenient method for a military unit to deploy in case of training or emergency.


    To compensate, the southern gate, or more accurately the southern gates, were of a particularly grand scale. Built in the same, arched, almost-divine style that encompassed the rest of the city, they spanned a hundred meters in all¡ªa twentieth of the city¡¯s ground-level diameter. The floating parts extended further out to create a loose structure with a largely conical shape.


    ¡°So? What¡¯s it gonna be? Do we get one day or two?¡± It was Jules who eventually spoke up. Breaking the wowed silence with a yawn and a scratch, his voice shook the party from its moment of stupor.


    ¡°It is in our best interest to keep it to one,¡± said Arciel.


    The words were shaky enough for Chloe and Jules to exchange a set of glances¡ªglances and confident grins.


    ¡°I¡¯m not so sure. One day doesn¡¯t seem like it¡¯ll be enough to rest and resupply,¡± said Chloe. ¡°We¡¯re bound to get lost.¡±


    ¡°Right? Just look at the fucking place. I can¡¯t even tell where the goddamn shops are.¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re blind,¡± said Claire. She lifted her tail and directed its tip towards one of the particularly large sectors floating in the middle of the sky. ¡°The shopping district¡¯s right there.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shut the hell up, no it isn¡¯t,¡± said Jules. ¡°That¡¯s obviously a uh¡­ red light district, yeah. You can practically smell the fish from here.¡±


    ¡°Fish?¡± Sylvia perked up. ¡°What fish?¡±


    The clam grimaced. ¡°Alright, I gotta admit, I did not think that one through before I opened my mouth.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± The fox tilted her head and blinked. ¡°Wait so uhmmmm¡­ does that mean there aren¡¯t any fish?¡±


    ¡°I have some,¡± said Lana. She opened the pouch on her waist and produced a piece of dried squid. ¡°Here. Snack.¡±


    ¡°Thanks Lana!¡± Sylvia vaulted from her seat and ate the treat directly from the wolf girl¡¯s hands. ¡°You¡¯re the best!¡±


    ¡°I know. Praise me more.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re super awesome and I love you because you always have snacks!¡±


    Nodding, as if satisfied, Lana produced another piece from her pouch and fed the infinite void that was the fox¡¯s stomach.


    ¡°Fish aside,¡± said Chloe. ¡°We could really use the rest. We¡¯ve spent twenty of the last thirty days in dungeons, and Allegra¡¯s ears will probably freeze off if we don¡¯t set her down by a fireplace and let her thaw out.¡±


    ¡°Besides, if this city, or whatever the fuck it is, is supposed to serve as our base of operations, then we¡¯re probably gonna book out a hotel for a long ass time anyway,¡± said Jules. ¡°One extra day ain¡¯t gonna mean shit, especially with our medals or whatever.¡±


    ¡°I suppose if you insist,¡± said Arciel. ¡°If we are truly so weary, then let us spend two days in recovery. This does come at a cost, however. I expect that you shall be entirely rested by this reprieve. I have every intention of doling out some manner of punishment should you remain hungover by the time of our departure.¡±


    ¡°Deal,¡± said Jules.


    His face was a toothy, innocent grin. He knew from the moment he voiced it that the promise was made in vain, for he was too much of an alcoholic to even dream of seeing her condition fulfilled.

 Chapter 418 - The Weakest Monster III

    Chapter 418 - The Weakest Monster III


    Amrinia was home to a number of high-end hotels. The beautiful, skyborn guest houses all shared the same features and architecture that pervaded the rest of the city. Their services, likewise, were similar enough that the cuisine they served became the only notable point of comparison. After a bit of heated discussion, with the Vel¡¯khanese hoping for local dishes and Allegra in opposition, they eventually settled on an inn named Tower Seventeen. It was a well-known location specializing in meat dishes both Amrinian and not.


    The party had requested a simple suite with a common area, but the inn¡¯s staff arranged for something much more elaborate upon discovering their method of payment. Rushing to and fro, they prepared the business¡¯ eponymous feature. All in all, the seventeenth tower was less of a suite and more of a villa. The completely detached location was one of the many floating towers that dotted the city. Configured as would a luxurious mansion, it was accessible only by ways of sky and bridge.


    It was packed to the brim with high end facilities. Private heated pools, pristine gardens, and beautiful courtyards with terraformers installed. The endless luxuries were presented alongside a series of see-through balconies that overlooked Amrinia¡¯s floating colosseum.


    While it may have appeared as a courtesy at first glance, so too was it in the innkeepers¡¯ best interest. After all, the detachment was rarely rented out in the winter despite being the most profitable part of their property. Relocating their guests was nothing if not an excuse to print money.


    And it was for that same reason that the party was presented with an expensive and almost excessive spread for dinner. The tourists had decided that the dining hall was far too large for their purposes¡ªit was built to host a party whose headcount was well into the three digits¡ªso they settled for dinner in front of the manor¡¯s built-in bar. The spread was lined up on the counter, buffet style, while a legion of servants stood by to handle the plating, the drinks, and any other miscellaneous chores.


    Every bottle on the wall was free to be drained, regardless of how expensive or difficult it was to acquire, and the Vel¡¯khanese readily took up the offer. The liquor flowed so freely that it took less than an hour for the whole building to fall into a stupor. There wasn¡¯t a soul without too much to drink, especially not with Krail and Jules pouring bottles for the hired hands.


    Chief among the heavy drinkers was Lana, who had drained a barrel by her lonesome. Such was the power of a pirate queen who had often spent her days drinking herself stupid.


    ¡°More.¡± The tiny wolf set her empty cup down on the counter.


    ¡°Would you like more brandy, or would you prefer something different?¡±


    Lana paused for a second to scan the shelves. It was hard to make out the labels with her eyes as bleary as they were.


    ¡°Whiskey,¡± she said. ¡°Top shelf.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing,¡± said the bartender. Having taken as many shots as the half-conscious clam in the room¡¯s far corner, he was a little shaky on his feet, but he managed to grab a decent bottle and prepare a drink on the rocks.


    Lana thanked him with a nod, but refrained from grabbing her cup immediately. The blazing hearth kept the room a little too warm; she would need to wait for a while before the drink was at the right temperature for tasting. In the meantime, she was left to sit with her face in her hands.


    It wasn¡¯t that she didn¡¯t want to be social. In fact, she was in the middle of engaging in conversation, albeit with someone who wasn¡¯t on site. Her twin sister was a little too far for her to relay her words directly, but their psychic link allowed them to share their senses regardless. Even so far up north, she could feel the salty sea breeze as their ship cruised its way across the sea, just as how Tessa could feel the warmth of the alcohol that coursed through her counterpart¡¯s veins.


    That very same ability allowed them to bypass the otherwise arbitrary limitations that the system imposed on their telepathy. By drawing letters in the air with their tails, they could write coherent sentences that their counterparts could easily decipher. It was a mechanism they had thought up as children, and one that they had developed into a functional code during their time on the high seas.


    Their frequent exchanges ensured that Lana was never lonely enough to need to interact with anyone in her surroundings, but that wasn¡¯t to say that she was unwilling. Case in point, she nodded at Chloe when she plopped herself down atop the neighbouring stool.


    ¡°Another drink?¡± Her words were slurred, but the grin on her face was easy to interpret. ¡°How many is that now?¡± She picked up the wolf girl¡¯s glass and gave it a bit of a swivel.


    ¡°Don¡¯t know,¡± said Lana. ¡°I lost count.¡±


    ¡°It has to have been thirty, at least.¡±


    ¡°I think so.¡± Lana beckoned for her glass to be returned before giving it a bit of a sip. The temperature was just right. Spreading through her mouth, the amber liquid flooded her senses with caramel, honey, and oak.


    ¡°That looks good.¡±


    ¡°It is.¡±


    ¡°Let me try some.¡±


    Lana turned to the bartender, but Chloe ducked over and stole a mouthful from the wolf girl¡¯s cup before she could voice the order.


    ¡°It¡¯s too strong,¡± she said, with her lips twisted into a frown. ¡°You made it look way better than it is.¡±


    ¡°I like it.¡± Lana looked at her cup for a few seconds before she eventually brought it to her lips again. ¡°It¡¯s good because it¡¯s strong.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s only true if we¡¯re talking about people.¡±


    ¡°Drinks are like people.¡±


    ¡°Drinks don¡¯t have big bouncy breasts!¡± The maid flopped onto the table and closed her eyes.


    ¡°Neither do I.¡±


    ¡°I can fix that,¡± said Chloe. She reached inside of her dress and produced a test tube. It was filled with a fine white powder, with individual grains just a little too large to appear as would a narcotic. If anything, it looked like a vial of salt. ¡°Take a little hit of this everyday, and they¡¯ll grow in no time. Or all at once, but then everyone¡¯ll notice.¡±


    Lana shook her head. ¡°Breasts would get in the way of fighting.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s half the appeal!¡± said Chloe. ¡°They¡¯re hot because they make life harder!¡±


    ¡°Weirdo.¡± A laugh escaped the wolf girl¡¯s lips. The maid was one of the most incorrigible degenerates that she had ever met. And yet, that was precisely why they got along so well. Like many of the party¡¯s members, she reminded her of her crew¡ªof the family she had out at sea. And perhaps that was why she sometimes joined their conversations, despite preferring to keep to herself..


    She really hadn¡¯t thought that it was possible when she first joined, but having spent so much time in their presence, she was happy to say that they had become her friends.


    ___


    Claire snuck away from the drunken celebration as the frenzy reached its peak. Though not quite thoroughly intoxicated¡ªshe had only sampled a few of the rarer wines¡ªthe lyrkress had downed enough to feel a little bit dizzy. And that, perhaps, was half the reason the midnight air felt so nice and refreshing. It cleared her mind as she soared through it, haphazardly navigating her way past the buildings and people scattered through the sky.


    Her destination was already in sight. The massive property served both as the city¡¯s centerpiece as well as the fortress that guarded the northern border. Were it to rise from its arched supports, it surely would have demonstrated that it was a capital ship, though even that descriptor would still be called into question. It dwarfed many of the others to share the title, covering nearly half of the city¡¯s total land, for it served not only as a symbol of the lord¡¯s hubris, but also as the safehouse to which its citizens would evacuate in times of crisis; Postumus manor was only as big as it was because it had the ability to house the entire non-combatant population.


    Invading it was hardly the wisest choice¡ªthere were guards flying all around, with those closer to the northern walls on especially high alert¡ªand yet, Claire continued to approach it regardless.


    In her tiny, qiligon form, she was small enough that she was nearly impossible to spot. Her runecloak played into the occasion as well. She continued to manipulate its colour as she skirted along the lake, taking care to mimic each of the reflections she passed.


    With her Sneaking skill at full blast and the god of the depths at her back, she was almost impossible to spot. And yet, the guards had shot a number of suspicious glances in her approximate direction. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    They were sharp enough that she almost wished she had kept Sylvia from drinking, though it was difficult to say if it was because she wanted a bubble or because the fox had gone on yet another drunken rampage. In the end, it hardly mattered. She was able to make it over the front gate and onto the property even without the added insurance.


    Postumus Manor shared the standard Amriniam aesthetic. As far as a Cadrian fortress went, it was practically unrecognizable. The power crystal was hidden far beneath the lake, it had floating bits all around, and the courtyard was without its usual appeal. Rather than serving as a rich, floral exhibition, as it often would in the nation¡¯s capital, it featured instead a series of liquid water veins arranged haphazardly over a series of uneven, stone tiles.


    A flex of the ears informed her that her former companion was happily chatting with her husband as she worked on that night¡¯s dinner. It was that same task which loosened the manor¡¯s security. Half the guards were in the midst of their evening break. It wasn¡¯t like they were being negligent. The marquis was one of the warlords assigned to watch the nation¡¯s outermost boundaries. Assassinating him would prove a difficult task even had he not any soldiers at his beck and call.


    Of far greater concern to the guards were the monsters that littered the land. They had all sorts of implements in place to detect them, chief among which was a magical spectrometer.


    It was precisely to deal with said device that she had approached the property head-on. To a remote observer, she would have appeared as would a guest. Though her mana was of a similar wavelength to her father¡¯s, she wasn¡¯t too worried about them deducing her identity. The values output by the spectrometers were almost impossible to interpret in real time, and it was only through a later analysis that their relation could be discovered. And with how costly and time consuming such a process was sure to be, it was unlikely that they would retain, let alone analyze the records of her visit.


    Nodding to herself and affirming that her logic was sound, Claire unlatched a window, snuck her way through, and slunk herself into a vase just outside the dining room. She could have easily barged in and interrupted their dinner, but revealing herself to Lord Postumus was out of the question. Especially not since the bastard had been associated with Pollux.


    It was fortunate then that she knew Mariabelle¡¯s habits like the back of her hand. For one, the silly horse was always last to abandon the dinner table. Her love for hot coffee drove her to stay for a solid few drinks at least, and it was easy to catch her on any such occasion.


    Claire simply needed to wait regardless of whether the girl¡¯s husband remained. Even in the worst case, it wouldn¡¯t take long for Marie¡¯s post-dinner habit to send her to the restroom, and catching her there would be no trouble at all.


    Fortunately, she needed not resort to the unsanitary approach. Lord Postumus left soon after desert for an evening bout with his men. And while there were a few servants working nearby, in case the lady demanded their presence, she was disliked enough that none stood by the door.


    It provided Claire with the perfect opportunity to slip through the door unnoticed. Once inside, she magically dragged a chair beneath the handle. The chair made a distinct scraping sound as it was dragged into position, but Mariabelle remained oblivious. Her self preservation instinct was so poor that she didn¡¯t turn around even as Claire assumed her lyrkrian form and very audibly walked her way down the carpeted floor.


    Fighting back the urge to sigh, Claire walked straight into the former maid¡¯s field of vision and sat down in the chair opposite her own.


    And yet, the marquis¡¯ wife still remained oblivious. She continued to sip at a cup of coffee whilst keeping her eyes focused on the book in her hands.


    ¡°Marie.¡±


    ¡°Just a second.¡±


    ¡°Marie. Stop reading. Pay attention.¡±


    ¡°Hold on a second. This chapter is really exciting.¡±


    ¡°Mariabelle Postumus.¡±


    ¡°Just let me finish this one part!¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    Thoroughly miffed, Claire refused to simply sit around and wait. After closing the curtains, she assumed her largest form and half wrapped her body around the dining table. Her maw was placed directly behind the horse lady¡¯s book. With how up close and personal she was¡ªher icy breath was quite literally blown in Marie¡¯s face every time she huffed¡ªit was irrational to think that she hadn¡¯t been spotted. And yet, her former servant remained completely unresponsive. She continued to flip through her novel even as she shivered uncontrollably.


    ¡°Hurry up,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡±


    ¡°Try harder.¡±


    Similar exchanges continued for the better part of ten minutes. Only then did Marie snap her book closed with a satisfied nod and lay eyes on her interrogator. She opened her eyes wide, scrambled backwards, and nearly screamed at the top of her lungs. If not for Claire magically grabbing her vocal chords and holding them still, she surely would have alerted the guards.


    ¡°Good evening, Marie,¡± said Claire.


    Mariabelle continued to panic. She haphazardly waved her arms around as she backpedaled, stopping only as she found her back against a massive tail. Fearfully looking up, she gulped. She whimpered and shook until she finally gathered the courage to look past the monster¡¯s maw. Suddenly stopping in her tracks, she creased her nose and wrinkled her brow.


    ¡°Claire?¡± Suddenly, her voice worked again. ¡°Is that you?¡± The fuzzy, disproportionate, perfectly-shaped ears were nothing short of unmistakable.


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°You are not fooling me with just a simple transformation, Claire.¡±


    The tension drained from Marie¡¯s body. Making her way back to her seat, she collapsed in her chair and took a deep breath.


    ¡°You have the wrong person.¡±


    ¡°I most certainly do not.¡±


    ¡°You clearly do.¡± Laughing, Claire returned to her lyrkrian form and sat down in the seat opposite her maid¡¯s. ¡°Keep your voice down. I¡¯m not supposed to be here.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps not at this moment, but you certainly were last year,¡± said Marie, with a huff. ¡°I cannot believe you refused to attend my wedding.¡±


    ¡°I was busy,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Certainly, but we were the best of friends. You were obligated to attend.¡±


    ¡°We were?¡± Claire tilted her head.


    ¡°Yes! We were!¡±


    ¡°This is the first time I¡¯m hearing of it.¡±


    ¡°I cannot believe you.¡± Despite her words, the centaur was all smiles. She leaned forward in her seat and grabbed her friend¡¯s taloned hands in her own humanoid pair. ¡°You have changed again. An ascension, I presume?¡±


    ¡°My third.¡±


    ¡°My, you really have been busy then.¡±


    ¡°I told you.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but you lie with such ease that it is often somewhat difficult to take your words at face value.¡±


    ¡°H-huh? Me? Lie! I¡¯d never lie, Marie! Especially not to you!¡± Claire put on her best spoiled princess pout and gave her confidant a teary gaze.


    ¡°This behaviour is certainly not aiding your case.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Sister Postumus, you poor grieving soul.¡± Twisting her lips into an almost angelic, pitying frown, Claire slowly shook her head. ¡°You are simply failing to open your mind to the infinite possibilities of the world before you. Perhaps, were you to achieve the enlightenment so frequently discussed in the scriptures, you would come to understand.¡±


    ¡°I see that your repertoire has expanded even further.¡± Marie sighed.


    Claire nodded. ¡°I learned this a few weeks ago. While wiping out a cult.¡±


    ¡°I cannot begin to fathom the sheer bad luck those cultists must have had to have stumbled upon you.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°I suppose you would not,¡± said Marie, with a giggle. ¡°So what has brought you so far north? I would certainly hope that it is to see me, but I highly doubt that to be the case.¡±


    ¡°Levels. I want my fourth ascension before the tournament begins.¡±


    ¡°I presume you intend to take part on the side of Vel¡¯khan? I recall you were on fair terms with their queen during our last meeting.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be facing my father.¡±


    ¡°Now that is certainly a conflict that has been quite a long time coming,¡± said Marie. ¡°Though, I admit I did not anticipate that it would come in the form of combat.¡±


    ¡°Me either,¡± said Claire. ¡°But I¡¯ll win. Just watch.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡± The retired maid squeezed her mistress¡¯ hand. ¡°Just as I promised, Claire, when I was first sworn into your service. I will remain as your witness.¡±


    ¡°I would¡¯ve been more inclined to believe you if you didn¡¯t hole yourself up north.¡±


    ¡°I will still be present for the event!¡± said the maid, indignantly. ¡°No marchional house would dare miss the opportunity to watch such a historic moment unfold.¡±


    ¡°Because a crown will fall?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll try your best,¡± giggled the former maid.


    Claire narrowed her eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t believe in me.¡±


    ¡°You know just as well as I do that your father may as well be invincible.¡±


    ¡°They always seem invincible before you take them down,¡± said Claire. ¡°But I¡¯ve learned first hand that even gods can fall.¡±


    ¡°Always the bluffs with you.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t bluffing.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you weren¡¯t.¡± Marie shook her head and sighed. ¡°So? When are you leaving for the Langgbjerns?¡±


    Claire frowned. ¡°Soon. A few days maybe.¡±


    ¡°And when will you return?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Can you at least make the festival?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    ¡°You missed my wedding! You can at least show up for a party or two!¡±


    ¡°That was one event.¡±


    ¡°The most important event of my life!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll be there for your second marriage.¡±


    ¡°Second marriage!? What do you mean, second marriage!?¡±


    ¡°Who knows?¡± The lyrkress smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll swing by around the solstice.¡±


    ¡°You better not forget!¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± Claire couldn¡¯t stop the grin that crossed her lips.


    The pair continued to chat well into the night. They caught up on their recent experiences, discussed their future plans, and dove into every random topic that happened to come to mind. For the first time in a while, Claire finally cut loose. The more she talked, the more she smiled.


    Though Valencia was far away, though nothing was as it was, with her old friend, it almost felt like she had finally come home.

 Chapter 419 - The Weakest Monster IV

    Chapter 419 - The Weakest Monster IV


    ¡°Let¡¯s stop for a bit of a break.¡±


    Allegra¡¯s voice cut through the crisp winter morning. Dressed in an enchanted, cold-resistant robe, she called out to the rest of the party from atop a wayward stump.


    They were twelve kilometers north of Amrinia, standing at the base of the mountain range that stood beyond Cadria¡¯s domain. The outermost regions were only about as dangerous as the foothills that surrounded them, and aesthetically, they appeared to be painted by many of the same brushes. The evergreen forests continued well into the sky, decorating nearly every part of the slopes visible beneath the clouds.


    The main differences came from the ambiance. The magic had grown thicker with every step north they took. And at the base of the mountains, it was dense enough to hinder their movements.


    ¡°Is there anyone who has yet to review the reading material?¡± Allegra spoke again as she scanned the party, smiling in satisfaction as its members voiced their affirmations and nodded their heads in turn. Her gaze continued until it landed on the final member¡ªthe only one who remained with her eyes on their destination. ¡°Claire?¡±


    The lyrkress didn¡¯t respond. Keeping her gaze forward, she bent her legs and summoned Boris straight into her hand.


    ¡°Claire, wait! You can''t just rush in!¡± Allegra sprinted over and reached for her pupil¡¯s coattails, but it was far too late.


    Claire had already launched herself off her ground and towards the incoming target¡ªa clear sign that she had failed to read any of the documentation that Allegra had provided.


    ¡°Should we chase her down?¡± asked Jules.


    ¡°No, let''s not,¡± said Allegra. ¡°This will be a good lesson for her.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm, are you sure?¡± asked Sylvia, with a tilt of the head. ¡°She''s probably gonna kick that thing¡¯s butt.¡±


    ¡°I see you haven''t done any reading either.¡± The rabbit sighed.


    ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°It means we aren¡¯t getting much further today.¡± Shaking her head, Allegra pulled out her wand as she watched over Claire¡¯s advance. ¡°Get ready to fight. There will most likely be more where this came from.¡±


    The fully armoured lyrkress practically glided across the snowscape. Her feet barely dug into the glistening powder, leaving only the faintest prints. Her target was just as stealthy. Its sole fin was entirely devoid of tracks. If not for the fact that it protruded above the ground, it would have been undetectable.


    It burst from within the snow as it closed the distance, revealing a bizarre form that was as fish-like as it was anthropomorphic. Its shoulders sported a pair of ridiculously muscular arms and a set of similarly built legs grew from beneath its pelvis. The rest of its body was a mix of fishy and shark-like. It had scales instead of rough skin, but its wide face featured a jaw lined with rows upon rows of sharpened teeth.


    In its hand, it held a long spear, fashioned from what looked to be a series of bones tied together with a makeshift rope. Its necklace was the same. Hooked directly into its gills was a metal chain featuring a series of strung-up teeth. If not for its incoherent, bestial cries, it almost would have looked sentient, like it belonged to some sort of indigenous tribe in spite of its exposed genitalia.


    Claire struck at the abomination without a moment of hesitation. Finally digging her feet into the snow, she twisted her hips and drove Boris towards the shark-man¡¯s chest with his mass raised to its maximum value.


    It was a heavy, crushing blow. And yet, the shark parried. He caught Boris¡¯ face with the tip of his spear and perfectly deflected him off course. It seemed like it shouldn¡¯t have been possible with his spear as flimsy as it was. And yet, it was unbroken, remaining only as dirty and cracked as it was at the time of his arrival.


    Claire twisted her wrist and immediately followed with another attack. The shark moved to parry again, but she seized his body with her vectors and dragged him off balance.


    Boris sank straight into his neck. The lizard¡¯s unaltered shape allowed him to strike at both the jaw and the spine at once, rattling the shark-man¡¯s brain whilst severing his nerves. And with how far his face was dislodged, as well as the ear-splitting crack that had accompanied the blow, it seemed like the battle was well over.


    But there was no such thing as a Langgbjern monster that would fall to a blow so shallow.


    The shark cracked its head back into position with a roar and returned a ferocious punch. Claire lightly pushed the first attack out of the way and blocked the tail swipe that followed. She ducked under the ensuing bite as well. The teeth never touched her. They were a solid twenty centimeters away at their closest. And yet, her shoulder was ripped apart.


    A large chunk was taken out of her flesh and armour alike, leaving only her icy bones intact.


    There was a mix of creaking and squelching as the shark chewed on everything he stole, but while he tried to grin, and show off his freshly bloodied teeth, he found a tail driven into his jaw.


    Not pausing for a moment, Claire turned Boris into a sword and buried him straight through the enemy¡¯s chest. The attack was repeated a dozen times and followed with an uppercut that rammed the shark¡¯s teeth into his skull and an accompanying tail smash that hammered his upper jaw through its lower counterpart.


    She backed off when he fell to his knees, though not because she thought he was dead. He had taken another bite out of her body when she forced his jaws closed and ripped the flesh right off of her face. Again, it was an impossible attack. His mouth was never shut of his own accord, and Claire had been even further away.


    And yet, her blood was drawn.


    But while certainly somewhat bizarre, so too was its method irrelevant. Claire grabbed its face with her vectors and tore the tendons that allowed its lips to move.


    With the threat of the strange remote attacks removed, she kicked off the ground and approached it again, only to suddenly find a cut across her stomach. And with it, a creeping darkness. It started at the corners of her vision, a black, pulsating mass that crept its way forward with every sickening throb. It ate the world around her, stealing it in much the same manner as Arciel¡¯s blinding curse. Even her resistance against it worked the same way. She couldn¡¯t negate it outright, but repeated exposure had made it so the process was no longer instant.


    It was only then, as the shark thrust its spear into the air and somehow nailed her gut again, that she recognized the other trick. It was Krail¡¯s¡ªthe ability to ensure that one¡¯s attacks would land on target.


    Somehow, the monster was using her companions¡¯ abilities.


    Its next distant slash was followed by an explosion. Both her front legs were ripped from their sockets. The accompanying radiation basked her body in a burning heat, but she ignored it and pressed on. Backing off was a mistake. Rather than securing a means to victory, she had only opened herself up to its continued assault.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    And yet, she was far from frustrated.


    The monster wasn¡¯t simply annoying her like the ones that had filled the abyssal god¡¯s dungeon, nor was it almost entirely trivial, like the others they had slain on the way.


    While it still did rely on a silly gimmick, the shark itself was tough enough that she was willing to give it credit. It held out even with its body all ruined and continued an aggressive assault. It was the type of creature that she had hoped to fight ever since they embarked on their training¡ªsomething that would offer a genuine challenge.


    Ignoring the pain that accompanied the wound, she returned to a two-legged form, grew out her wings and bolstered her speed. And then, finally, upon closing the distance, she delivered a strike with her lizard.


    Again, the weapon was deflected, but Claire summoned another in her free hand and stabbed the shark right through the throat. The shark threw an immediate counter, but having long predicted the action, she released her blade, grabbed its wrist, and threw the attack off course. It was as much of a counter as it was a hypothesis. And upon receiving no damage, she found her proposition answered.


    Just like the punch and the tail swipe it had thrown much earlier, its most recent strike had missed precisely because it relied on the concept it did.


    Krail¡¯s ability was to ensure that an arrow would land, but it would only take hold if he was able to release the projectile in question. An interrupted attack, something that she parried or misguided prematurely, was unable to trigger the requisite condition.


    The only problem was a spike in the difficulty of reading its moves. The darkness had claimed the rest of her vision. She could no longer watch the shark¡¯s eyes or follow the twitching of his muscles. Were they both much lower level, all would still have been fine, but it wasn¡¯t possible to rely solely on her hearing when her opponent¡¯s movements easily exceeded the speed of sound. The locations her ears reported were almost always out of date.


    Were she more like her father, she likely could have fixed the problem by relying on her sense of touch, but Claire was not quite as sensitive. What she did have, however, were her vectors.


    She lifted her foe into the sky before she lost track of his position and mangled him with an array of magical forces. It was a veritable storm. She grabbed random bits of flesh and tore them in equally random directions. His howling was the only reason she had the faintest clue as to its relative effectiveness. And by all means, it sounded like she was on the cusp of victory.


    Until the sounds suddenly went away.


    She stopped hearing the wind as it howled through the Langgbjerns. The heartbeats and comments left by her allies were suddenly nowhere to be found, and even her foe somehow disappeared. The only thing that she could still hear was a roaring snowstorm.


    It didn¡¯t make sense.


    It wasn¡¯t there before.


    And yet, there was something about it that tickled the back of her mind¡ªsomething about the whole situation that was oddly familiar.


    She felt strangely cold, and as she stepped forward, she realised that she was on an incline. It wasn¡¯t too steep. In the first place, she already had to trudge through the snow to get much of anywhere at all. For some odd reason, it had gone from ankle to hip deep. Another sensation that seemed so oddly familiar.


    The cold got colder as the storm continued to blow. She felt the chill all the way through to her bones, even though she wasn¡¯t supposed to feel much of the cold at all.


    It didn¡¯t make sense.


    At least not until the pieces suddenly clicked into place.


    They were in her realm. Her opponent had mimicked the ability and used it against her, even though she herself lacked the means to call upon it.


    She could have easily ripped it apart. She had always been able to grab the realm itself with her vectors, and she was confident that she could produce enough force to tear a hole and escape unharmed. But that would have been taking the easy way out, and Claire had no intention of backing down. Not in the face of her own trump card.


    She had spent quite a long time considering how one might beat the realm, but she had few chances to put her theories to action. Prior to her third ascension, she had lacked the mana to maintain it for long. And after it, she had lost the ability to cast it at all.


    Her forked tongue flickering in delight, she raised her ears overhead and prepared for the shark-man¡¯s approach.


    He had to attack. He had no other choice.


    The concept that drove the realm was that of disorder. Within its bounds, energy was more easily dispersed. It would naturally move from concentrations of high to low, escaping the targets¡¯ bodies and flooding the artificial environment instead. Any target that was drained completely dry would be frozen solid, for like mana, divinity, and motion, heat was also a form of energy, and its absence spelled a position at the bottom of the relevant index.


    Of course, the stolen energy would not simply go to waste. The caster could freely manipulate it in whatever way they pleased, with Claire having often absorbed it as a means of compensating for the spell¡¯s ridiculous cost. But even then, it wasn¡¯t enough. No matter how many targets she found, no matter how much mana she stole, the realm¡¯s consumption was always far greater, for the cost of the magic grew proportionally with the rate at which her opponents¡¯ was drained.


    In that sense, the caster was not immune to the realm¡¯s effect. They too would be shifted towards a zeroed state, albeit not in quite as many dimensions.


    And even with the mana it stole from her person, the snow shark¡¯s pool was far too small to outlast her. The only chance it had was to rush her down and take advantage of her neutered speed.


    It was a foregone conclusion, almost as obvious as its rear-end approach.


    Spinning around with a grin, the still-blinded lyrkress parried an obvious, overhand swing and returned a dagger to the monster¡¯s throat. It followed with a sweep of the tail, but she caught that as well and crushed the extra limb in her talons.


    From there, it was checkmate. She grabbed the shark with her vectors again and restored the previous status quo. Just a few seconds was all it took, even with her vectors slowed and weakened, to tear off enough of its flesh to end its desperate struggle.


    Log Entry 884781


    You have slain a level 1042 Langgbjern Mirror Herring.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 30 points of agility


    - 1375 points of spirit


    - 19 points of strength


    - 673 points of vitality


    - 46 points of wisdom


    Log Entry 884782


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been partially restored.


    Your racial class, Caldriess, has reached level 644.


    You have gained 444 ability points.


    Her vision returned as the realm came apart. One snowscape vanished and gave way to another, as she raised her arms overhead and gave her body a stretch. It wasn¡¯t quite as cooperative as she would have liked.


    Whatever the case, the battle was won. Satisfied with her handiwork, Claire turned towards the hill where everyone was stationed and found Allegra shaking her head.


    ¡°Is there a problem?¡± asked Claire. She floated back to the group. Walking was still a little more painful than she would have liked.


    ¡°There are many,¡± said Allegra, with a sigh. ¡°But, congratulations, I guess. You¡¯ve managed to kill the weakest monster that inhabits these mountains.¡±


    ¡°Wait a second.¡± Sylvia blinked. ¡°That was the weakest?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re a common prey species, and they¡¯re often found in schools over a thousand members strong,¡± said Allegra.


    ¡°Then how come this one was by itself?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°If you read the encyclopedia, you¡¯d have known that they are only facultative schoolers,¡± said the rabbit. ¡°They¡¯ll often venture off alone to feed, but tend to stay together for safety in their downtime, given their propensity to being eaten. Even when gathered together for protection, they¡¯re unable to prevent their predators from picking them off,¡± she said. ¡°This is why I said we weren¡¯t ready for the Langgbjerns just yet.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire. She grabbed Chloe by the waistband and lifted her into the air as she spoke.


    ¡°Uh, Claire? What are you doing?¡± asked the maid.


    ¡°There are more coming,¡± said the lyrkress, with a small smile. ¡°And you need levels.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait! That doesn¡¯t mean you should just throw me in! Don¡¯t you see how many of them there are!?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire. She flashed Chloe a kind, almost saintly smile. ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear what Allegra just said? These things are the weakest monsters in the Langgbjerns.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you can just throw me in! I¡¯m not reaslkdjflkasdjflkdasfkhsd!¡±


    And so, the maid was made into a missile that learned to appreciate life anew.

 Chapter 420 - Unfettered Joy

    Chapter 420 - Unfettered Joy


    Allegra watched over the battlefield with a pensive frown. Fox aside, she was the only one who had refrained from joining the fray.


    There were five herrings in all. Claire was holding off two on her own, while the rest of the party dealt with the remainder. Fortunately, the group they encountered was small; the only school within range of Allegra¡¯s perception had headed off in another direction.


    ¡°Are you gonna join them?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°It kinda looks like Claire¡¯s not doing so hot, and everyone else is kinda struggling to deal the final blow.¡±


    ¡°I will if it starts looking dangerous,¡± said Allegra. ¡°Herrings might not be worth much in the way of experience, but they¡¯re hard enough to kill that they make for good sparring partners.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ wait so they¡¯re hard to kill and not worth much? Doesn¡¯t that just mean that fighting them is super inefficient?¡±


    ¡°It is.¡± Allegra put on a troubled smile as a glare was fired in her direction. Even in the midst of almost losing a fight, Claire was hardly about to let the comment go unnoticed. ¡°That¡¯s why I said we should wait.¡±


    ¡°Mnnn¡­ wait, so does that mean that some of the other stuff is supposed to be easier to fight?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°I thought that those weird not-fishy fish things were supposed to be the weakest monsters.¡±


    ¡°They are, but that doesn¡¯t mean that hunting them is even remotely efficient,¡± said Allegra. ¡°Experience is the product of an encounter¡¯s maximum risk and the enemy¡¯s total strength. Better equipment and higher ability scores will certainly reduce the risk and therefore the experience, but other factors, like strategies, tend to leave it untouched. I would¡¯ve expected you to know that, given your level.¡±


    ¡°I only leveled ¡®cause I was bored, so I wasn¡¯t really sweating the details.¡±


    ¡°That must have been quite the excruciating boredom¡­¡±


    ¡°I know, right?¡±


    The rabbit forced a smile, but said nothing more. It almost bothered her to know that the fox was ahead of her in terms of raw numbers. Sure, she had never quite tried to earn her fourth ascension, and her attitude towards violence had sabotaged her growth, but she had lived for over a thousand years in a nation beloved by the goddess of war.


    That was not to say that time was a strict determiner. Virillius had gained four ascensions in less than a decade with plenty of downtime between his major battles. He probably could have fit them all in a few weeks had the events occurred back to back. Alas, Virillius was a rare exception whose footsteps were impossible to follow. For everyone else, long periods of reprieve came as a strict necessity; it was important for warriors to hone their techniques and for mages to refine their spells if they wished to emerge victorious against more and more powerful opponents; it was precisely because they took long breaks that they were able to adjust to their raised ability scores and draw out the full extent of their potential.


    Allegra continued to ponder similar themes until a splotch of magic caught her attention. Closing her eyes and spreading her mana throughout their surroundings, she found a larger group of herrings inbound. As far as she could tell, it was the exact same group that had run off not too long ago. Their straight-line, offset trajectory made it clear that offense was not their goal. That, and the predator tearing through their ranks.


    ¡°We need to retreat!¡± shouted Allegra. ¡°There¡¯s another two thousand inbound! They¡¯re being chased by a vlasch!¡±


    She began to cast before the words were completed. A pillar of light descended from the sky and swept across the battlefield. The solar ray was white magic, an advanced form like Jules¡¯ red and blue. Embodying the power of the sun, it was life and destruction in one. The allies caught in its wake were immediately restored to perfect condition, while the enemies were charred a deep, sooty black. The monsters were four-times ascended, aspects in all but name. And yet, with a single blow, they were burnt to ash and left to the winds.


    Such was the spellwork of Cadria¡¯s Grand Magus¡ªthe only pure mage whose battlefield influence was even comparable to that of the reigning god-king¡¯s.


    ¡°This way! Hurry!¡±


    Alas, there was no time to marvel. Even without any reading, the threat was plenty clear. Two thousand was simply too ridiculous of a number to fathom when they were struggling with five.


    Claire was the only one who didn¡¯t break into a sprint. She took a few moments to gaze into the distance. The incoming swarm was a veritable mess of bodies, both because their large, muscular forms kept them from swimming so closely together, but also because they were being flung through the air and torn apart.


    Their murderer was a peculiar creature with fourteen limbs sprouting from a large, shelled body. It ran with an odd gait, leaning first on the four legs it had in front, before springing forward like a grasshopper with the seven it had in the back. The three arms that sprouted from the front of its carapace were responsible for most of the havoc. The lanky claw-like weapons looked like they were made of nothing but skin and bone, but every strike ripped nearly a dozen herrings out of the snow. From there, its head did the rest of the work. It lunged from within a sleeve and snatched the bipedal fish straight out of the air. Though they fought and struggled, the herrings could do nothing to stop themselves from being crushed between the vlasch¡¯s flat, human-like teeth. The incisors were incredibly off putting when paired with its eyeless, reptilian face, a disconnect made even worse by the way that it gnashed its jaws.


    It was the type of monster that her senses warned her against. They screamed for her not to fight it, that death only awaited if she were to engage it head-on. And yet, that was precisely why she so desperately hoped to leap straight into the fray, to take the plunge and force herself to grow. But after a moment of hesitation, she spun around and started after the others.


    They had covered a surprising amount of distance in the few seconds she left them. Allegra had heavily emphasized the importance of speed and urged all of the slower members to find alternative methods of movement. Jules was the most successful. The bivalve had gone from practically immobile to a veritable rocket by forming a tube of water behind himself and detonating a series of explosions within it. The end result was a burst of acceleration, absurd enough to rank him first among the party¡¯s speedsters. Whether he was entirely in control, however, was a whole other question.


    Since Arciel could move through the shadows, and Chloe was effectively a rogue, it was really just the myrian and the elf who were a little slower. Lana activated her time dilation in bursts while Krail pushed himself along with a series of roots. With more practice, both would be able increase their total velocity at least twofold. For the time being, however, they were still a bit on the slower side, and it looked like the vlasch would catch up, so she grabbed them with her vectors and dragged them along.


    Following Allegra¡¯s lead, Claire dashed through the trees, weaving to and fro between the branches. They continued until the rabbit raised a hand and brought them to a stop inside of a particularly densely wooded part of the forest.


    Closing her eyes and toying with her glasses, the Grand Magus spent a few seconds scanning their surroundings before suddenly spinning around and firing a blast of flame. The massive fireball was just in time to match an attack that came from their southern flank. Colliding with the incoming lightning, it detonated in a massive explosion that nearly knocked the party off its collective feet.


    ¡°I knew this was a bad idea.¡± The rabbit grimaced as she continued to fend off projectiles. None of the spells were aimed right at them, just sprayed in a northerly cone.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    ¡°I-is something wrong?¡± asked a very out of breath Chloe.


    ¡°Very,¡± said Allegra. ¡°There¡¯s another vlasch between us and the city.¡±


    ¡°W-why would there be another one!?¡± asked the maid.


    ¡°It¡¯s probably the first one¡¯s mate,¡± said Allegra. ¡°It isn¡¯t uncommon for them to hunt in pairs, and a large group of herring makes for an easy mark.¡±


    ¡°I believe that the correct course of action in such a predicament would be to venture in the opposite direction?¡±


    ¡°I''m glad at least one of you has done her reading.¡± Allegra smiled.


    Jules clicked his tongue. ¡°Bitch, don''t lump us in with Claire or her stupid ass carpet-munching fox. We''re not fucking retarded.¡±


    ¡°Hey! That''s rude! I have a name, you know,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Oh shut the fuck up,¡± said the clam. ¡°Your dumb ass didn''t even respond to the right goddamn part¡­¡±


    ¡°Let''s save the arguing for later,¡± said Allegra. ¡°We need to get back on the move. And as much as I''d hate to say it, our best bet is heading north.¡± She took a moment to take a deep breath. ¡°I''m going to need everyone to stay calm and follow my orders exactly. Alright?¡± A quick scan of the party confirmed that everyone, even Claire, was willing to cooperate. ¡°Excellent. Now follow me. Stick as close as you can.¡±


    Commanding the trees to part before them, Allegra hopped through the snow with an almost assassin-like speed. Each step carried her a few dozen meters, sometimes more depending on the extent of the incline. The path up was not completely devoid of monsters. A few of them happened to crawl out of the woodwork, but Allegra smited them before they were given the chance to attack. Rays of light, wooden stakes, blades of wind, and arcane blasts. Every monster was obliterated with a single attack.


    A faint frown crossed Claire¡¯s lips as she watched the enemies fall. Allegra was the pinnacle of true mages. The caldriess understood that, having opted for a hybrid build, it was only natural for her to fall behind when it came to raw firepower. Still, she couldn¡¯t help but chew on her lips.


    She couldn''t beat Allegra.


    And if she couldn¡¯t beat Allegra, there was no way for her to possibly beat her father.


    She needed another ascension, but such an acquisition remained starkly unrealistic no matter how she crunched the numbers; a herring was worth less than a tenth of a level.


    The rate of her growth was, frankly, abysmal. Most of the others were over eight hundred, and at the rate that everything was going, it seemed like even Chloe would soon pull ahead.


    ¡°We should be far enough now.¡± Allegra slowed to a stop after about ten minutes of fleeing. Looking back, Claire found that they had gone a little ways up the foot of the closest mountain. At the very least, they were high enough to give her a near aerial view of the city that they had been in just a little earlier that day. And with it, a perfect view of the two vlasches running rampant in the forest below.


    ¡°This is supposed to be¡­ glomrst territory?¡± asked Chloe, as she flipped through her encyclopedia. The glass serpents in question were highlighted as one of the most common lesser predators that lurked the mountain¡¯s steppes.


    ¡°It should be,¡± said Allegra. She closed her eyes and sent another pulse of magic through their surroundings. ¡°It looks like there is a cave a little further up. Let¡¯s head over so we can take a bit of a break while we discuss our options.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm, are you talking about the cave that looks like it has a bunch of jaws?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Yes, that would be the one.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t we be better, like, you know, if we avoided it?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯s kinda making me feel suspicious.¡±


    ¡°Normally, yes,¡± said Allegra. ¡°But Glomrsts are aerial predators, and we¡¯ll be much better off getting them out of our hair.¡±


    ¡°Mmm, if you say so I guess,¡± said the fox.


    It took another few minutes of trekking before the cave came into sight. As Sylvia had mentioned, it wasn¡¯t the most welcoming location. The entrance sported large, rocky spikes on both the top and bottom to form something of a jagged maw.


    ¡°I had not considered the possibility that we would immediately be forced into an unfavourable retreat,¡± said Arciel. Her breath was much heavier than usual, and despite the wintry cold, her brow was covered in sweat.


    ¡°That tends to be the norm deeper in the mountains,¡± said Allegra, ¡°but it is a little unusual for the outskirts to be so active. We should head back as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°Then let us be off as soon as we have caught our breath,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°I would love to, but even one vlasch is powerful enough to wipe out the lot of you. We¡¯re probably better off waiting until they leave, after they eat their fill.¡± Allegra sat down on a frozen rock, pressed her face into her hands, and shook her head back and forth. ¡°I knew this was a bad idea. We should have spent a few months leveling in the surrounding area before we even considered setting foot in the Langgbjerns.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see a problem,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Claire, I know you¡¯re feeling impatient, but let¡¯s just take a step back and look at this objectively. We¡¯re trapped in the deadliest mountains known to mortalkind. We¡¯re completely cut off from the city. The only way we have to go is north, but we don¡¯t have the supplies for an expedition, and we can¡¯t go hunting without running the risk of attracting a predator. We may as well be sitting ducks.¡±


    Rolling her eyes, the lyrkress ripped open a small hole in the space in front of her and reached through to the makeshift warehouse on the other side. She grabbed the large bags they had packed in advance¡ªthey were planning to head out on a longer-term expedition in a few days time, and they already had everything packed¡ªand wrenched them through the portal.


    ¡°There. Now we have supplies,¡± said Claire. ¡°Let¡¯s go. North.¡±


    Allegra stared for a few seconds before creasing her brow and pinching the bridge of her nose. ¡°I am starting to see why you were being so obedient.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Stop fooling around and warp us back to town,¡± said Allegra. ¡°We need to leave.¡±


    ¡°You can leave, if you want,¡± said Claire. ¡°I¡¯m heading deeper into the mountains.¡±


    A barrier appeared around the cave before she could so much as rise. ¡°That literally goes against every single reasonable safety measure.¡±


    ¡°Safety measures are for people who take forever to level up.¡±


    Allegra pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°Claire, please. Be reasonable.¡±


    ¡°I am.¡±


    The rabbit sighed. ¡°I still don¡¯t understand how you wound up so stubborn. Where did I go wrong?¡±


    ¡°Claire¡¯s always just kinda been like this, so I wouldn¡¯t really blame yourself,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°She¡¯s totally reckless.¡±


    ¡°No I¡¯m not.¡± The not-at-all reckless lyrkress pinched the fox¡¯s cheeks before walking over to the cave¡¯s entrance and sucking the magic straight out of the shield. ¡°Anyway. Goodbye.¡±


    ¡°Wait for me!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°The two of you have to be insane,¡± said Allegra. ¡°Did you not see those vlasches? They¡¯re far from the toughest creatures you find. Most of them sit around level 2500, but they¡¯re still near the bottom of the food chain. The whole point of this exercise, the whole reason we went with a cursory check in the first place, was so you could see how dangerous the Langgbjerns were for yourself.¡±


    ¡°And I did. Now I want to fight them.¡±


    Allegra groaned. ¡°By the gods. Why are you so stubborn?¡±


    ¡°I suspect it is best to allow her to do as she pleases, as she is unlikely to acquiesce,¡± said Arciel. ¡°With that said, I must make a request before you depart, Claire.¡±


    The lyrkress tilted her head.


    ¡°I would like a drink of your blood so that I might refresh the image I have copied.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°Wait, if we¡¯re doing that, then I want some too,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°And why not?¡±


    ¡°Ciel has a reason.¡±


    ¡°I have a reason too,¡± said the maid.


    ¡°I highly doubt that.¡±


    After taking a moment to glare at the pervert, Claire sliced open one of her fingers and extended it towards the less indecent vampire. It felt a bit strange to have the liquid sucked from her body, but she bore with the sensation for as long as she needed.


    If not her presence, commiting her blood was the least she could do.

 Chapter 421 - Unfettered Joy II

    Chapter 421 - Unfettered Joy II


    Claire shed her armour as she emerged from the cave. After glancing briefly at the fox, who had followed in her footsteps, she extended her ears, her arms, and her wings in tandem to stretch her freshly freed body. The winter air flooded her lungs, but she felt no discomfort. Even in a casual blouse and a summer skirt, she didn¡¯t feel chilly enough to be anything short of comfortable; the shard in her chest was far colder than the mountains could ever be.


    Once fully loosened up, she raised her fluffy listeners overhead and focused on the soundscape. Her ears reported ongoing conflicts all around them. The forest was so rife with roars and yowls that it was almost more difficult to find a place where things were quiet. Relatively speaking, the sky came off as the most obvious contender, but simply rising a few hundred meters was unlikely to allow her to escape the ground-dwellers¡¯ range, and climbing higher was analogous to foolishly challenging the aerial predators. Though they were obscured by the clouds, a single glance in their direction sufficed to affirm that approaching them was best left for after she bolstered her strength. Such was the extent of the dread that their presence exuded.


    She took a few moments to weigh her options, but with no clear winner amidst the sea of choices, she found herself reaching for the nearest branch.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ what¡¯s that supposed to be for?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know where to go.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know what that means.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡±


    Ripping the stick from the poor pine, she removed its needless needles and spun in the snow. The first time it stopped, it led back into the cave, so she gave it another whirl before setting off in the resulting direction.


    ¡°Wait, really!?¡± cried Sylvia. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be a little more careful? Since, uhm, you know, this place is supposed to be super dangerous?¡±


    ¡°You worry too much.¡±


    ¡°No I don¡¯t! You just don¡¯t worry enough!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Claire spun back around and stuck out her forked tongue as she continued on her way.


    With no need to rush, she proceeded at a leisurely pace, casually walking through the boreal forest as she would on a lazy stroll. And somehow, despite the danger that came with the Langgbjerns, it was every bit as relaxing. She couldn¡¯t tell if it was because of the battle, if talking to Marie had lifted her spirits, or if there was some other reason altogether, but she just felt good.


    She didn¡¯t mind it at all when the snow blew into her ears, nor did she complain at all about how deep her feet sank with each step. Simply allowing the mana to flow past her body, she enjoyed every moment that passed.


    It was a mood that persisted even as she was attacked, some fifteen minutes after her departure.


    The perpetrator was a snow-white object that had somehow eluded her senses. Without warning, it sprang from the ground in front of her, failing to land a hit only on account of a last-second evasion.


    When she looked at it more closely, she found a curious writhing mass, halfway between a piece of moldy cheese and a spider¡¯s web. It tried to retreat back under the surface of the snow, but she grabbed it with a vector before it could and yanked it back towards her.


    When she turned Boris into a dagger and brought him against the material, she found it surprisingly tough. It felt like she was trying to cut through a piece of treated hide. But even as she sawed it in half, the creature continued to attack. Both parts of the tendril ejected a strange fluid and retreated from her hand as the ground began to shake.


    The trees quivered like newborn fawns. Their roots creaked, practically screaming for salvation as they were rent from the rising soil.


    From beneath it appeared a towering mass made of the same material as the tendril. The piece that she had cut was only a tiny piece of the creature¡¯s whole. All in all, the thing stood over thirty meters tall. The porous stringer material grew from under its head and extended over a hundred meters in every direction. It almost looked more like a piece of clothing¡ªa long flowing dress¡ªthan it did a part of its body.


    It was a giant fungus¡ªa faceless stalk with a massive gilled hat that shared the snow¡¯s pure colour. Dress aside, its only notable features were the crystals that grew from its stem. They glowed in the same light blue as her own jagged protrusions, for they were crafted of a familiar material.


    Indeed, the monster that had emerged from beneath the soil, roughly two hundred metres in front of her, was a skirted mushroom embedded with shards of what almost seemed to be true ice. It was difficult to say without any extended exposure. The magic that radiated from the jagged pieces was just a little bit off, but she couldn¡¯t quite discern the reason.


    True to its mycological nature, the enemy¡¯s body remained still. Only its dress moved to attack her, with the hundreds of tendrils thereon surging in her direction.


    The strikes were powerful enough to tear open the forest; dozens if not hundreds of trees were felled with each swipe, but they were slow enough that Claire avoided them with ease. The slashes she returned were just as inconsequential. The tendrils had been hard to cut under perfect conditions. In an exchange of blows, her counters were even more shallow.


    And yet, the smile refused to leave her face. Just like the shark, it was precisely the sort of creature that would test her limits, not only on account of its level. Without her sealed abilities, a lack of firepower was one of her greatest faults, and she had yet to test her most recent theories.


    First on the list was her personal favourite. She jumped into the sky and ascended to a height of about a hundred meters. Raising Boris overhead, she transformed him into a massive cleaver with a particularly thick spine and an even thicker tip. It was one of the largest forms that he could manage, and she bolstered its already incredible weight by ordering him to maximize his mass. Simply lowering the weapon would have already produced a sufficiently destructive effect, but that alone would never have satisfied the lyrkress. Starting with a flap of the wings¡ªan initial burst of acceleration¡ªshe threw in a series of vectors that launched her body into a rapid, vertical spin.


    She descended from the heavens like a bladed top. The mushroom¡¯s behaviour remained unchanged in the meantime. It continued to lash out with its tendrils; the strange porous tubules were launched straight for her centre of mass.


    The perfect test for her all-out attack.


    When the two offensive strategies collided, Claire found hers to be fairly promising at first. She busted straight through the first three waves of fungus¡ªor at least she assumed it was three, it was difficult to count while her head was spinning¡ªbut she started to lose her momentum on the fourth, and found herself stopped in her tracks on the fifth.


    It was a little more disappointing than expected, but Claire continued unperturbed. Weaving through the tendrils, she returned to the sky and summoned two more Borises, both of which grew to form massive bows. The metal lizard already in her hand was the only one to do anything different. He became an arrow, a massive bolt as long as it was possible for her to draw.


    Weaving past another wave of tentacles, Claire assumed her true form and nocked both bows. The smaller one, she armed with Boris and aimed as one typically would. But to the larger one, she attached herself, becoming its projectile whilst using her vectors to pull herself taut.


    The Clairrow was launched first; she sent her body flying through the air with enough power to blur the world around her. And then, whilst pushing herself forward to maintain her maximum velocity, she released Boris from the bow she held between her talons.


    His speed was already bolstered by her forward motion, but she took it a step further by activating a spell to transfer her momentum. The arrow was accelerated to such a blistering speed that her eyes lost the ability to track it. Only by sensing the vectors she had assigned to pushing it along was she able to pinpoint its location.


    Granted, such an effort was pointless in the first place. At the sky-rending speed of mach twenty seven, the thousand pound metal rod had struck its target by the time her senses caught up.


    There was a roaring boom. Snow and dirt flew everywhere, exploding from the point of impact like a plume from a mountain of fire. The slushy mess was accompanied by chunks of rock, half-splintered trees, and bits of the mushroom¡¯s flesh. Some of the debris even threatened to reach the clouds. Even upon returning to the ground, Claire found the Langgbjerns still shaking.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    And yet, the mushroom stood tall.


    Despite her efforts, the bolt had failed to reach its target. Her foe had formed a thick wall with its tendrils, a veritable sheet over a hundred layers dense. That alone was enough to stop the bolt, but the fungus was unable to absorb the force entirely. Its body was pushed into the ground, half returned to the depths from which it emerged.


    Perhaps because its tendrils had been damaged, or perhaps because it was simply fed up, the enemy¡¯s patterns suddenly began to change. Instead of lashing out again, it pulled back all of its limbs and drew them close to its body.


    It almost appeared as if the creature was firming up its defenses. Or at least that would have been the case had it not used its tattered dress to form a magic circle.


    The scale of the spell¡¯s sigil was nothing short of absurd. It stood even taller than the mushroom and spanned a length just as wide. Countless runes were mixed into the boundaries, with the individual symbols small enough that they would have been difficult to read from point blank.


    Naturally, the massive formation was powered by an equally massive amount of mana. The mushroom drained it from the air; it harvested all of the ambient magic with a growing and shrinking motion that resembled a gulp before it activated its spell.


    Despite how complicated it appeared, the end result was simple. It generated and fired a massive block of ice with all the same properties as the shards embedded into its stalk.


    It was too fast and heavy to stop with her vectors alone; it continued to press forward with its speed slowly reducing, but Claire was unconcerned. Rearing up on her hind legs, she stuck out her front talons and waited. At the moment of contact, she transferred all of its momentum, instantly redirecting it into the snow at her heels. She knew that it was a foolish choice¡ªher talons likely would have been shattered by the impact had she missed the timing by the slightest margin¡ªbut she couldn¡¯t pass the opportunity when the enemy presented it on a silver platter.


    The caldriess finally understood the substance¡¯s nature as she felt it in her talons. It wasn¡¯t true ice. It lacked the divinity that was required to make it into a source of power, but its properties were similar in nature. Though not quite indestructible, though its frostblight was weakened, it was an inordinately pure version of the element crafted by an experienced caster.


    And by applying just a little bit of mana, not even enough for her circuits to complain, she was able to make it her own. Evidently, cutting the fungus only proved ineffective, so she employed the ice as a mace and bashed away whilst manipulating it with her vectors.


    Her blunt force strikes proved more effective than her attempts at slashing. She still wasn¡¯t doing much damage, but the impacts were disruptive enough that the enemy struggled to retaliate. The oversized mace, or rather maces with Boris assuming the same shape, kept the fungus¡¯ dress disabled while Claire continued to approach.


    It looked like she only needed to execute it, but its gills suddenly deformed and released a burst of dust as she closed in on its trunk. Turning Boris into a fan allowed Claire to push most of it away, but a stray spore came into contact with her back. And with its arrival, a sudden burst of pain. The mycelia sprouted in an instant, working their way straight through her skin. They latched directly onto her bones and drank from the ice that was the source of her power.


    She fell to her knees, her breath heavy as a mushroom erupted from her back. Writhing beneath her skin, it migrated its tendrils towards her neck and threatened to reach her head. With their movement came a strange urge. She wanted to fly high into the sky and spread her body as wide as she could.


    It didn¡¯t vanish until she grabbed the mushroom and tore it from her body, ripping her own flesh apart in the process, thanks to its grip on her bones.


    Her breath heavy, Claire opened her mouth wide and dug her teeth into the towering shroom that was her original target.


    She was almost surprised to find that it lacked an icy core. It was nothing but fungal flesh through and through. And though it resisted when she sawed at its base, lashing out with more tendrils than ever, she toppled its trunk and brought its hat to the ground.


    The remaining root-like structures wriggled away even as she seized them with her vectors. It wasn¡¯t until she channeled her mana into her eyes and transformed her pupils from slits to magic circles that they finally obeyed her commands.


    It had been a long time since she used the racial magic. Even in her true form, it clawed at her insides.


    Still, she continued to channel her mana. In all likelihood, it was as her father had claimed. She simply needed her body to adapt. And in such a case, abiding by Alfred¡¯s solution and waiting for her wounds to heal was simply not an option.


    Blood flowed from her eyes for as long as the magic was active, dripping down her cheeks as would a trail of tears. Her whole head felt like it was on fire. But with the fungus frozen in place, she was able to drag it from its den, take it between her jaws, and drain the rest of its life force.


    Log Entry 884793


    You have slain a level 1209 Frostblight King Stropharia.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 15 points of agility


    - 47 points of dexterity


    - 32 points of spirit


    - 25 points of strength


    - 117 points of wisdom


    - 68 points of vitality


    A laugh escaped her lips as she spat out the fungus¡¯ corpse and closed her aching eyes. The mushroom hadn¡¯t even given her a full level. It hadn¡¯t even given her a tenth of a level. Including her last kill¡¯s overflow as well as whatever she had earned when Allegra finished off her last two targets, she had only gained four percent of the experience required for her racial class to grow.


    ¡°Whew! I almost didn¡¯t think you were gonna win there,¡± said Sylvia. She hopped off the branch she was using as an observer¡¯s seat and landed on the lyrkress¡¯ head. The kit extended her paws and prepared to heal the lyrkress, but Claire shook her head and stopped her. Her inability to rapidly regenerate was a shortcoming that she would have to learn to deal with. It was a shame. She would have picked up the warrior class had Alfred¡¯s labyrinth not sealed it away. Rapid regeneration was almost too valuable to pass up.


    ¡°I had it under control.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought too, until you got hit by the spores.¡±


    ¡°I still had it under control.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ yeah. Right.¡± Claire couldn¡¯t be bothered to open her eyes, but she could practically hear the fox¡¯s forced smile.


    ¡°Can¡¯t blame you for worrying. She¡¯s a little too keen on going all in, if you ask me.¡± A gruffer voice soon made its way out of the woods and joined their conversation.


    ¡°Panda.¡± Still keeping her eyes closed, Claire shifted just her ears in the raccoon¡¯s direction.


    ¡°In the flesh,¡± he said.


    ¡°Oh, hey Panda!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Is it just me, or are you like, a lot taller and skinnier? Did you go on a diet or something?¡±


    ¡°Nah. Some asshole cut my last body in half,¡± he said. ¡°Honestly, the nerve of that man.¡±


    ¡°You probably deserved it,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Who¡¯s to say?¡± The raccoon shrugged.


    ¡°So, are you done with whatever it was you said you were gonna be busy with?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°I still have a few loose ends to tie up, but they¡¯re more or less inconsequential. I should be around enough to more or less guide you through the mountains.¡±


    ¡°No thanks,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Figured you¡¯d say that,¡± chuckled the raccoon. ¡°Honestly, I couldn¡¯t even tell you why I bothered to ask.¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re an idiot,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°That was supposed to be rhetorical.¡± Panda pressed a hand to his head, breathed a sigh, and slowly shook his head. ¡°Anyway, enough with the bullshit. The real reason I stopped by is ¡®cause there¡¯s something important I figured you needed to know.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°On second thought, this might not really be the time. I might still be able to up the profits if I wait a little longer to say it.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes as she got to her feet. ¡°Keep your secrets then. I don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on. Don¡¯t be like that,¡± he said. ¡°What if I told you that Allegra¡¯s been lying to you this whole time? Hell, she¡¯s got both you and that stupidly violent daddy of yours wrapped right around her finger.¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    A warped grin appeared on the rat¡¯s lips. It was a twisted, almost sadistic smile, as deranged as deranged could be.


    ¡°Your mother is still alive.¡±


    ¡°Explain.¡±


    She practically growled the words as she grabbed him with her talons, but all she got was a lazy shrug.


    ¡°Sorry, no can do. Showing you through the mountains was kind of key to explaining everything, and you clearly don¡¯t feel like going where I tell you.¡± The smile never left his lips. ¡°So unfortunately, as much as I¡¯d like to tell you everything, we¡¯re stuck at a bit of an impasse.¡±


    Claire dug her teeth into her jaws and her claws into the raccoon.


    ¡°Explain everything. Now.¡±


    ¡°I already told you, I can¡¯t. You blew the only chance I was allowed to give you.¡±


    ¡°Sylvia. Read him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m trying, but it¡¯s not working,¡± said the fox. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure why.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Then I¡¯ll just make him talk.¡± Her eyes glowed, first blue, then yellow, then red as she channeled her power through her circuits and bolstered the force of her grip.


    And yet, Panda dislodged himself from her claws, pushing them away with ease before rising to his feet and dusting off his bloodied fur.


    ¡°If you really want to know, you¡¯ll have to find the lord of this frozen land before the winter fades.¡±


    With a deep cackle escaping his throat, the raccoon lightly waved his arm. And then, he vanished. Almost like he never existed, the ring-tailed pest simply disappeared.

 Chapter 422 - Unfettered Joy III

    Chapter 422 - Unfettered Joy III


    Claire ground her teeth as she stared at the place where the raccoon had been. She raised her ears overhead and listened closely as she kept her eyes on the snow. But even as she scanned the surrounding vectors for any hint of distortion, she found no hint of his presence.


    Panda had disappeared, and there was nothing she could do to deduce where he had gone.


    ¡°Sorry. I probably should¡¯ve bubbled him,¡± said Sylvia. The words were accompanied by a familiar weight. Sylvia leapt onto Claire¡¯s back before assuming her humanoid form.


    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault.¡± The lyrkress took a breath. ¡°He probably would¡¯ve escaped anyway.¡±


    ¡°Probably, yeah.¡± Sylvia wrapped her arms around the base of Claire¡¯s neck and pressed her cheek against her scales. Perhaps because she was wearing her winter clothes¡ªshe had a large scarf around her neck and a warm cardigan draped over her shoulders¡ªshe was even softer than usual. Her tail contributed to the impression as well. It looped around and occasionally tickled the bottom of Claire¡¯s chin whilst naturally swishing to and fro.


    ¡°You can stop now,¡± said Claire. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± asked Sylvia.


    The snake-moose took a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡±


    ¡°Mmmk.¡± Sylvia rubbed her face into her qiligon¡¯s mane. ¡°But what if I don¡¯t wanna stop?¡±


    There was a pause. ¡°Fine. Five minutes then. I need a break anyway.¡±


    ¡°Ten.¡±


    ¡°Five.¡±


    ¡°Nine.¡±


    ¡°Five.¡±


    ¡°Seven?¡±


    ¡°Ten.¡±


    ¡°Okay, fine! Six!¡± huffed the fox. ¡°Final offer.¡±


    ¡°Six it is then.¡±


    ¡°Geez, Claire, you¡¯re such a mise¡ªwait, did you just say ten?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure? I¡¯m pretty sure I heard you say it.¡±


    ¡°Must¡¯ve been your imagination.¡±


    ¡°It definitely wasn¡¯t! Now you¡¯re totally just messing with me!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Liar!¡±


    Claire stifled a giggle as she rose to her feet, stretched her back, and started into the forest again. Though she could have walked, she opted to tuck her legs in and slither; the less jostling there was, the more comfortable her rider would be.


    ¡°Thanks, Sylvia,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I would do without you.¡±


    ¡°I know, right?¡± The half-elf smiled and gave Claire¡¯s neck another light squeeze. ¡°So uhmmm, according to Panda, we need to find the person who rules these mountains?¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°It¡¯s probably a strong monster.¡± It was either that, or the goddess of the frozen wilds, but the mountains didn¡¯t seem blessed enough to fall within her domain.


    ¡°What kinda monster do you think it is then?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. We haven¡¯t seen enough of them yet.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn, yeah, I guess not,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°So is it just me, or are we not going back to the cave?¡±


    ¡°Why would we?¡±


    ¡°I thought you were probably gonna try and beat up Allegra so you could figure out what she was hiding.¡±


    ¡°I thought about it,¡± said Claire, ¡°but I¡¯m not strong enough to overpower her yet. I need more levels.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I can beat her up for you if you want. Leaving her with all the others probably isn¡¯t a good idea if she¡¯s secretly evil.¡±


    ¡°I doubt she is.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± The fox blinked. ¡°Mmmnnn, is that ¡®cause you don¡¯t trust Panda?¡±


    Claire paused for a moment. ¡°It¡¯s because I know Allegra.¡± Claire twisted her lips into a frown. ¡°She¡¯s a military commander. She doesn¡¯t hesitate to cheat or lie, and she even tried to kill me once. But she only ever does things if she thinks they¡¯re the right thing to do.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn, if you say so,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Wait but if she¡¯s always doing the right thing, then why are you going to beat her up?¡±


    ¡°Because.¡±


    The foxgirl blinked. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure what that¡¯s supposed to mean.¡±


    ¡°Because I want to.¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re mad at her?¡±


    ¡°Because I want to,¡± Claire smiled. ¡°Now shush. There¡¯s something up ahead.¡±


    ¡°Fine, but you¡¯re gonna have to explain later!¡±


    ¡°Maybe if I feel like it.¡±


    Though not exactly satisfied, Sylvia leapt off Claire¡¯s back, hummed a quick tune, and hid herself in a bubble. Just like Panda, she almost seemed to outright vanish into the aether. But at least with her, Claire understood the mechanism that drove her invisibility.


    Though annoyed, she shook her head and continued towards the source of a peculiar sound. She had easily identified it from afar, but it wasn¡¯t until she drew closer that she became more confident in her conclusion. After all, with everything and its mother completely frozen over and the winter fully set in, it was difficult to imagine that they would come across a running river. And yet, the unfrozen water hardly made for the most curious sight. That title belonged instead to the herd fast asleep beside it.


    Claire furrowed her brows. Not only was the group conked out by a dangerous watering hole¡ªany place where one could find a drink was a place where predators would gather¡ªbut its members were entirely inconsistent.


    There were flaming monkeys with dozens of eyes, fish with elephant-like trunks ten times as long as the rest of their bodies, ice golems with whole deer anally mounted to their limbs, and demonic-looking fairies with mermaid-like tails and cow-like upper bodies, just to name a few. The list of species went on and on; there were at least a hundred different individuals with no more than two or three belonging to a particular group.


    Perhaps it might have made sense if the creatures were intelligent, but as far as Claire could tell, that was hardly the case. There was no harmony anywhere on the mountain. The prey species appeared to be the only ones that lived in groups, and even they would challenge those that differed from themselves. In the first place, the theory was never truly applicable given the predators clearly mixed into the crowd. There were vlasches, giant birds, and even mechanical wolves passed out by the shore. With the sheer variety, she could only think that they were under some sort of control.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    But unlike the case with the massive deer in Llystletein, there was no creature in the crowd that stood out as an obvious manipulator. The most likely candidate was the group¡¯s strongest member, but a quick glance towards it¡ªa terrifying hippo-like glob with a cannon growing from its back and horse heads in place of feet¡ªaffirmed that it was in much the same state as all of the others.


    Triple checking to ensure that there were no other creatures hanging around the river, Claire held a dagger-shaped Boris in her mouth as she crept towards the shore. It was difficult to say if she could assassinate the group¡¯s members without causing a stir. Both of the Langgbjern creatures she had confronted so far had been durable to say the least, and any mistake she made was sure to have dire consequences. And yet, she pressed forward. Resisting the urge was impossible. The river was lined with free experience just waiting to be claimed.


    But as she slithered closer, she found a sudden dip in her motivation. Her eyes started to droop. A wave of exhaustion washed over her and threatened to put her to bed in spite of the fact that she had no need for sleep.


    She immediately thought to retreat, but her body refused to listen. Compulsed by a mysterious power, it continued to slink towards the river bed as the veil over her mind grew ever heavier.


    About a minute and a hundred meters later, she was unconscious by the riverbed.


    The same fate suffered by all the others drawn to the water¡¯s edge.


    But while everything else was snoozing peacefully, off running through the brilliant, phantasmagorical meadows, Claire was stuck staring at a series of doors.


    She paused for a second to take a quick detour before passing through a relatively new gate and returning to the frosted mountains.


    It was a curious phenomenon. When she slipped out of her body, she did so in her translucent, humanoid form. It felt a little strange to be completely naked outdoors in winter, but she ignored the sensation to focus on reevaluating the circumstances. Surely enough, her surroundings were unchanged. There were no new monsters nearby, nor any gazing upon her from afar, but with her mind free of its drowsiness, she finally realised that something was stealing her mana, overpowering her regeneration and slowly sucking it away, one tiny sliver at a time. And by following the tracks left by the flow of magic, she found that something to be the waterway itself.


    Somehow, it was the river that was predating upon all of the creatures around it.


    With that in mind, Claire started by moving her body away from its shore. She raised herself from her fallen position, and with no difficulty at all, brought herself to the outer edge of the drowsing effect¡¯s range. Her spirit, however, remained by the shore. She silently approached the nearest monster, one of the demonic-looking fairies, and gently placed a hand on its chest. Once everything was in place, she did as the dream-inducing river and sapped away at its health.


    It took a surprisingly amount of time, nearly five full minutes of draining, but her target eventually began to wither away. It turned paler and paler, changing until it reached a breaking point and croaked with a violent spasm.


    Log Entry 884797


    You have slain a level 1802 Langgbjern Highland Kelpie Bovise.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 491 points of wisdom


    Log Entry 884798


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been partially restored.


    Your racial class, Caldriess, has reached level 647.


    Your titular class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has reached level 31.


    You have gained 3332 ability points.


    Nodding in satisfaction, she immediately moved onto her next target, a vlasch like the one that had caused their initial retreat, and climbed up on top of its shell. Rather than simply stealing its life force, as she had for the supposed kelpie, she focused on rendering her arm incorporeal and worked her fingers through its frame.


    It was a weird sensation. Unlike when she had done the same to Sophia, she found that she didn¡¯t simply phase through the turtle-like monster. The creature in front of her was far more viscous; it felt like she was pushing her hand through a glob of mud. But eventually, after sinking her whole body into its flesh, she was able to locate its heart.


    Gripping it between her fingers, she made just her hand material again and squeezed as she drained the demonic turtle¡¯s life.


    Log Entry 884799


    You have slain a level 2795 Langgbjern Vlasch


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 219 points of strength


    - 8299 points of wisdom


    Log Entry 884800


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been partially restored.


    Your racial class, Caldriess, has reached level 658.


    Your titular class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has reached level 32.


    You have gained 6884 ability points.


    Claire climbed her way out of the vlasch¡¯s body and set her sights on her next target, but a chill ran down her spine before she could proceed with its murder. There was a gaze boring straight into her back¡ªnot her humanoid back, but the back of her spiritual body. Spinning around affirmed again that the river was at fault, for the waterway had risen from its place in the snow.


    Its shape was no longer that of a simple stream. All of the material used in the river was being condensed, pressed together to form a creature with an approximately humanoid form. It had all of the standard features. A head, two arms, a pair of legs. It even weaved its waves together to form a glistening robe. The only thing that might have been missing, aside from all of the obvious internals, was a face, but it was impossible to say for certain with the way its long, messy hair obscured the front of its head.


    One look at it and she knew. It was something that completely outclassed her.


    Claire lowered her stance, only to find her spirit form gone. All of a sudden, she was back in her body with Boris between her jaws and her scales standing on end.


    The caldriess raised her rear like a cat when the walking flood touched its feet against the shore. Something in her gut screamed for her not to move, to do little but watch as the water spirit went about its business.


    It started by approaching the prey it had on the shore. Its steps were slow and graceful, but its assault was outright savage. The beasts were taken within the spirit¡¯s body and ground up by the high-pressure currents swirling madly within. There was no exception. The vlasch shells and the herring flesh was destroyed with all the same ease.


    Though it shredded everything it touched, the river never once ran red. Its colour remained a clear blue even after swallowing half of the monsters asleep among the shore. And somehow, its victims never woke. There wasn¡¯t a single creature that reacted to being consumed.


    Claire knew she needed to run, but the water monster turned to her every time she even considered it. And with its invisible eyes, it stared, as if carefully watching to ensure that she remained unmoving.


    As if telling her clearly that there was no escape.


    Claire took a breath and quickly ran through her options before quickly kicking herself into gear. Her first action was to shrink down to her tiniest form. If anything that the spirit touched would be immediately destroyed, then her size would only serve to nip at her ankles.


    Unsurprisingly, it charged her as soon as it noticed, but Claire was ready. She ducked under its hand as it reached for her and dove past its armpit. The spirit spun around immediately and gave chase by extending its arms. The limbs grew at an eye-popping speed, but Claire swerved between them as she rose into the sky.


    The water spirit gave up on grabbing her after she got about a hundred meters up and started firing projectiles from the tips of its fingers instead.


    They didn¡¯t look particularly impressive at first¡ªthey started at a snail¡¯s pace¡ªbut then they suddenly accelerated. Claire dodged as quickly as she could. Still, even with her vectors assisting, she lacked the speed to evade the watery blades. One ripped her left ear cleanly off of her head while another bored its way through one of her talons and washed it of all its flesh.


    Gritting her teeth, she bore with the pain and continued her evasive maneuvers, but the second wave proved just as impossible to avoid. She fell from the sky, bleeding from both her tail and her shoulder.


    The spirit was already waiting for her by the time she reached the ground. It reached for her face, only for the tiny snake moose to match the motion and slam a heavy object straight into the spirit¡¯s side.


    Were it any ordinary object, say a tree or a monster, it surely would have been shredded to bits. But what Claire had grabbed was the thing she sought when she shot into the sky.


    It was a massive block of almost-true ice¡ªthe one that the mushroom produced.


    She knew that it would prove effective against the sentient river. But the precise outcome was far beyond her purview¡ªthe parts of the spirit that touched the ice both froze and shattered on impact. Its left arm was completely destroyed, and a piece of its left leg had followed suit. The damage itself was quickly repaired, but with it came a revelation.


    Despite living in a frozen wasteland, the river was weak to ice.


    Alas, the discovery proved fruitless.


    Because, as it rose from the snow, the raging spirit finally revealed its face. And with it, the baneful, hate-filled glare thereon.


    The river screeched like a banshee as it raised its remaining arm and channeled its mana. There was enough raw power to put a hundred mushrooms to shame¡ªenough raw power to forge a torrential flood as high as the sky. The giant wave must have been ten kilometers wide and over three times as tall. Like the water spirit, it was filled with high-pressure currents. Everything that touched the wave was immediately sliced to unrecognizable bits.


    Eyes wide, the lyrkress dove into the ice block. She wrapped it around her body like a shell and perfectly enclosed herself within it. It should have been a perfect defense, something capable of warding off the river¡¯s spell.


    But as the two collided, as she was taken into the tsunami¡¯s depths, she found a minor problem.


    The ice was quickly giving way.


    Likely imbued with some concept or other, the water was tearing it apart.


    Almost hissing in annoyance, she lifted the whole block out of the waves and accelerated in a random direction. She didn¡¯t know how far she needed to run, but she was out of reasonable options, and the river was bound to give up eventually.

 Chapter 423 - Unfettered Joy IV

    Chapter 423 - Unfettered Joy IV


    Still encased in her icy shell, Claire shot through the sky. She was half a kilometer above the forest, just high enough to escape the river¡¯s hands, but low enough that the creatures above had yet to strike. Compared to the mountain range, the height she flew at was barely worth noting. Even the smallest pointed rocks, the ones that stood closest to Cadria, were two dozen kilometres tall and nearly a hundred across.


    The watery spirit threw all manner of spells her way. Heavy rain poured from the heavens, each droplet sharp enough to completely destroy the greenery and wildlife caught in the crossfire. High-pressure jets erupted from its fingers, cutting into the sides of the mountains themselves. Swirling whirlpools ate the landscape, leaving naught but death in their wake. And yet, Claire remained unharmed. The occasional tidal waves were the only attacks capable of damaging her shield, and the river refrained from their continued use. Not even the force of nature had enough magic to unleash them back to back. But for what it lacked in mana, it made up for in patience¡ªmuch to the lyrkress¡¯ annoyance, the sentient waterway refused to back down no matter how far she ran.


    It was slowly wearing down her shield, tearing the almost-true ice with which she guarded her body. She couldn''t outrun it¡ªit followed her with ease no matter how fast she flew. Contrary to her initial assumption, it didn¡¯t look like the sentient waterway would give up the chase.


    The spirit was well aware of its advantage.


    And that was why it was thoroughly confused when its sensors detected that its prey was on the verge of escape.


    A frustrated frown on her lips, Claire ripped open a hole in the space in front of her and returned to the place where she had felled the fungus. In an instant, she put almost a hundred kilometres between herself and the water, all thanks to a portal too high for the spirit to reach.


    Claire took full advantage of the elevated position. She stuck out her tongue and taunted her foe, making sure to enrage it even further before she finally closed the rift and locked in the distance between them.


    A small smirk crossed her lips as she imagined the tantrum sure to follow¡ªa smirk that only grew wider as she opened another portal and returned to the river¡¯s domain, where she found its collection still sleeping.


    The lyrkress wasted no time getting started. Flexing her neck, she descended upon the mob with one Boris in her uninjured hand and a second between her jaws.


    First were the creatures that seemed hardest to kill, particularly those that she had yet to harvest. Jumping atop one of the giant birds¡ªthough whether it was really a bird was up to debate given its feline posterior¡ªshe slashed open throat and tore into its flesh. With the river¡¯s presence removed, its sleep was no longer quite as hypnotic. Its eyes shot open soon after she attacked it, but it returned to rest with seventy four quick stabs to the neck before it could wake any of the others.


    Log Entry 884801


    You have slain a level 2024 Langgbjern Griffon Fledgling


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 1402 points of agility


    - 899 points of dexterity


    - 5872 points of strength


    Log Entry 884802


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been partially restored.


    Your racial class, Caldriess, has reached level 660.


    You have gained 888 ability points.


    Next on the priority list was a long-legged, long-faced canine seemingly carved from stone. It appeared a little harder to kill at a glance, given its tough exterior, but Claire was unconcerned. She needed only to increase her eyes¡¯ magnification to identify the grain in its stone exterior. From there, it was an easy task. She stuck a chisel-shaped Boris into one of its natural veins and struck his rear with an equally Boris-based mallet.


    The attack was half performed in jest, but it proved perfectly effective. Falling into two perfectly cut pieces, the dog delivered again the flow goddess¡¯ voice.


    So and so forth the process repeated. She gutted another vlasch, killed a snail with three shells, and crushed an ant whose body was made of lightning. She went on for five full minutes, stopping again only as the river returned to its nest, both horrified and thoroughly enraged by the discovery therein.


    With one last taunt¡ªa wave and a cheeky wink¡ªClaire opened another portal and returned to the place where she had last abandoned it.


    While her good friend the sentient river was certainly left behind again, the surrounding forests were still bustling with conflict and life in turn. The local monsters almost didn¡¯t seem to care about the veritable natural disaster that had swept its way through the mountains twice. They continued to fight and tussle over their domains, roaring and clashing without the slightest concern for those that might overhear. For them, it was practically an everyday occurance.


    Claire weighed her options as she landed in the snow. There were a few different ways to go about her exploration, few of which were bound by an adventurer¡¯s regular means.


    Housing, safety, and nourishment were practically moot concerns. She could return to the inn and take long rests any time she wanted. But while such a tactic was incredibly effective, not only in terms of providing her with a chance for decent rest, she soon decided against it. Resting up in town defied the spirit of the challenge.


    Llystletein Authority¡¯s safe zone would allow her to sleep just as peacefully. Functionally, abusing it was no different from warping wherever she wanted, but the ability¡¯s temporal restriction left it feeling much easier to accept. But with that said, she had little intention of wasting her safe zone in such a ludicrous fashion. It would be much better used in combat. She wanted to retain it as a safety net in case she needed to bombard an enemy that trumped her in close quarters.


    In retrospect, the river met much of the necessary criteria. She was fairly confident that she could have defeated it if she swallowed one of Alfred¡¯s potions and blasted the watery creature from within a protective cage, but it felt wasteful to commit so many resources so early in her exploration. While the water was certainly a fearsome predator, she doubted it was anywhere close to the most fierce around.


    After all, there was no reason for an apex predator to rely so heavily on camouflage. Its weakness to ice was another point of suspicion; it was unlikely to have adapted to the mountain if it still struggled to deal with the biting cold. Even if she was to hunt it, she wanted it to be much later, after it had mutated into a Langgbjern variant.


    Nodding, and certainly not justifying her reluctance to face it, Claire shook her head, stretched her shoulders, and set out in a random direction.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ___


    Arciel enjoyed the lingering, iron taste that filled her mouth as she sat with the rest of the party. It hadn¡¯t been long since Claire had departed, barely enough time for Chloe to set up a campfire.


    There was a bit of an awkward mood in the air. Though the queen was content, Allegra was having a particularly hard time internalizing the outcome. She sat by the cave¡¯s entrance with her eyes far beyond it. Her arms sat on her knees, while she rested her face in her hands. Her irritation was clear, but her concern was even clearer; the frown on her lips refused to depart.


    ¡°So? What now?¡± asked Jules. ¡°We going to just sit around, or are we gonna figure out our shit?¡±


    ¡°There isn¡¯t much to think about,¡± said Allegra. ¡°We need to wait until the vlasches eat their fill and retreat immediately. Evidently, the Langgbjerns are even more dangerous than they were during my last visit, and we aren¡¯t ready to challenge them. We need to head back to town and find a safer place to work on our levels.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say that you planned for something else earlier?¡± asked the clam. ¡°Think I remember some shit about how the herrings were bad experience or something.¡±


    ¡°I did know a fairly decent place to level, but I doubt that it¡¯s the same way it was back then if there are vlasches running around this far from their usual stomping grounds.¡±


    ¡°Might still be worth investigating. How far is it?¡±


    ¡°Let me see.¡± Allegra retrieved a map from one of her pockets. Carefully looking it over, she sent a series of magical pulses out into their surroundings, each a little stronger than the last. ¡°It¡¯s about sixty kilometres to the north-northeast.¡±


    ¡°Sixty kilometres doesn¡¯t sound too bad,¡± said Krail. ¡°Though it¡¯s difficult to gauge exactly how quickly we can travel in all this snow, I¡¯d wager that we have a fair chance of making the trek in about half an hour, maybe a little faster if we match our previous clip.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, not happening,¡± said Jules. ¡°My ass is fucking toast. I literally roasted that shit so bad that I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s gonna be bleeding for the next goddamn month.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s exactly how burns work,¡± said Chloe. ¡°And you don¡¯t even have an ass, do you?¡±


    ¡°Not this shit again,¡± grumbled the clam. ¡°For the last fucking time, it¡¯s none of your fucking business.¡±


    ¡°Let us set the matter of Jules¡¯ posterior aside for a moment and consider the journey,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I am fairly confident in our ability to complete it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± said Allegra. ¡°We were only able to go as fast as we were because Claire carried two of you, and Jules, you were lucky you didn¡¯t lose control and completely fly off course.¡±


    ¡°I do not believe that to be a concern,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I need only to produce a copy of Claire and order it to transport us. With the little distance we need to travel, I do believe that my mana shan¡¯t be a concern.¡±


    ¡°You can copy her?¡± Allegra furrowed her brow. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I am capable of creating a copy of any being whose blood I have ingested,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°Wait, hold the fuck on,¡± said Jules. ¡°So I dunno why I haven¡¯t thought of this before, but can¡¯t you just make the copy do that portal thing she always does and take us there instantly?¡±


    Arciel froze. She let go of her staff, accidentally dropping it beside her as she tried her best to maintain her composure. ¡°How strange. I do wonder why it is that I have never before considered its use.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it has something to do with the goddess of order?¡± said Chloe. ¡°I remember Claire citing her as one of the reasons we weren¡¯t able to teleport straight to Cadria.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± she said. ¡°Now, in fairness, if we are capable of teleporting, then I believe we are also capable of following Allegra¡¯s suggestion and leaving whenever we please. Shall we take a vote and determine our way forward?¡±


    ¡°No point,¡± said Lana. ¡°Claire was right. We need experience.¡±


    Looking around the fire, Arciel found everyone in agreement. Even Allegra, who had been hesitant throughout, slowly gave a nod.


    ¡°I guess it can¡¯t hurt if you can do the thing that Claire just did,¡± she said.


    ¡°It is unanimous then.¡± Grabbing her staff, Arciel rose to her feet and started to chant. She did so fairly leisurely and focused her efforts on minimizing the amount of mana consumed.


    A fake Claire rose from beside her bloody throne as soon it manifested. Oddly, her expected humanoid form was replaced with that of a tiny snoose, but paying it no mind, Arciel commanded her to open a gate. Though there was a bit of an unnatural pause, the artificial servant soon did just that. Wrenching half a million points of mana away from the squid, she grabbed the space in front of her and tore it right open.


    ¡°Is this the correct location?¡± asked Arciel.


    Allegra stuck her head through the portal. And after taking a few seconds to scan her surroundings, stepped the rest of the way through. ¡°Almost,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯re not quite there, but she¡¯s brought us close enough.¡±


    Following the rabbit¡¯s loose affirmation, the rest of the party grabbed their things and marched through the gate. Arciel was last to enter; double-checking the cave for any leftover belongings, she rose from her throne and crossed the rift with a smile.


    ¡°Thank you, Claire,¡± she said to the copy.


    ¡°Mreep,¡± it said back.


    Arciel blinked. She hadn¡¯t ordered it to reply, and frankly, she hadn¡¯t even known that it was possible for her copies to make any sounds at all. She wanted to investigate further, but the gate closed before she could and severed her connection to the magical construct. She would have to cast the spell again if she wanted to learn any more, but such an act was little if not a waste of mana.


    ¡°Where are we going, exactly?¡± asked Krail. ¡°As far as I can see, this patch of forest looks the same as every other.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be a greenwood elf?¡± asked Chloe. ¡°You can just ask the trees, can¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve tried that already, but they¡¯re not cooperating.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Trees are like people. Each has its own personality. In an ordinary forest, the vast majority are highly cooperative and are willing to extend their aid. There are a few that will take a little bit of coercing, typically the older specimens. Very rarely, you¡¯ll run into what we call a silent, which is a tree that remains completely unresponsive, even if you try to bribe it with fertilizer and sugar. That isn¡¯t to say that they can¡¯t hear our voices, they just refuse to listen.¡±


    ¡°And all of the trees up here are like that?¡± asked the maid.


    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s unfortunately looking like I won¡¯t even be able to activate my racial magic, not that I use it much to begin with. Allegra¡¯s spell is more likely to be successful, given that it functions off of a completely different set of principles.¡±


    ¡°Quiet,¡± said Allegra. ¡°There¡¯s a large group of monsters to our right. Stay down and stop talking.¡±


    Following her orders, the group swerved past a number of similar roadblocks before finally arriving in front of a peculiar set of trees. They were a little bit taller than the others in the area, and their needles were closer to a dark blue than the emerald that the other evergreens featured. The magic that they radiated was awfully suspicious, but no more so than the arch that their branches came together to form.


    ¡°This is it,¡± said Allegra. She approached the suspicious trees and knocked on their trunks in turn. A layer of frost started to spread from the point of contact after about ten seconds of stillness, slowly at first, and then rapidly enough to cover the towering evergreens in a single breath.


    Between the two was a faint veil of magic. It was barely visible to the naked eye, only very narrowly distorting the world around it.


    But it was certainly there.


    ¡°This portal leads to a trial produced through the joint efforts of Rikael and Builledracht,¡± she said. ¡°In the past, it was the place I used to go from level 800 to 950, but that was almost a thousand years ago. I don¡¯t know how much it¡¯s changed, but there is still a chance that it¡¯ll make for an excellent training ground.¡±


    ¡°Whatever the case, there is little harm in a cursory examination,¡± said Arciel. ¡°Let us proceed.¡±


    Without hesitating for a moment, the queen stepped through the portal and sought the dungeon beyond it.


    There was no other choice.


    With how slowly her levels came, Claire would never let her live it down if she didn''t beat her to a fourth ascension.

 Chapter 424 - Unfettered Joy V

    Chapter 424 - Unfettered Joy V


    The lorputus spawn known as Number Fourteen stared into a mirror as she pressed a hand to her features. The thing that she called her face started as a silvery blob with three large holes, loosely placed to look like eyes and a mouth. But a tiny wisp of mana¡ªa brief activation of a special racial trait¡ªallowed her to appear however she wished.


    She started with the progenitor¡¯s usual form. It took exactly a fifth of a second to obtain a face identical to that of the marquis. Every single spawn was capable of the exact same feat, and it was one of which the progenitor often took advantage. They served as his proxies so as to better take action in multiple places at once.


    Next, she became Sophia. The identity that she had assumed for the last ten-odd years came just as naturally as her father¡¯s. To say that she was fond of it was certainly a stretch, but it wasn¡¯t like she actively disliked the form. After all, it was something she had chosen to mold, and something that had at least in part ignored many of the rules that its supposed race¡¯s members were sure to follow. And yet, she was unquestioned; Vel¡¯khan¡¯s politicians were so soft that she had never been pressed for an explanation.


    With both of her most familiar forms out of the way, she began warping rapidly through the others she knew. She copied the servants, her siblings, and even the people she recalled passing on the street before cycling through the hostiles she had encountered in Vel¡¯khan. She became Claire, Arciel, and an old erdbrecher in turn. Nothing was beyond the realm of possibility; she was able to copy Sylvia and Boris with all the fidelity with which she could emulate their owner. The only difference was the amount of time required to manipulate her flesh and bone. Had she anything that even remotely resembled a brain, it certainly would have been either shrunken or squished, but her species was devoid of such a silly weakness.


    Her nervous system was decentralized, spread throughout her body in much the same manner as her circuits and veins. Like the rest of her form, its shape could change, but its total volume was ever-stagnant. She needed at least one and a half litres to fit all her thinking parts and a significantly larger total was required to ensure a body of the correct rigidity and texture. Likewise, it was difficult for her to assume too large of a form without compromising her fine motor skills; she needed her neurons at a fair density in order to operate precisely as she wished.


    It varied between the particular details of the target species, but the ideal form typically weighed between eighty and four thousand pounds. And it was precisely to prepare to assess one such body that Sophia stood in front of the mirror in the first place.


    The candidate in question was still in the possession of its original owner. The man, who went by the name Lucius Hyacinth, was an up-and-coming champion of which many had taken note. His origin was Cadrian. That much was clear not only from his thoraen descent, but also the records that the military possessed of his service.


    Like Number Fourteen, he was one of the agents deployed to Vel¡¯khan, albeit for a completely different purpose. While she served as a coordinated effort between Lord Pollux and the progenitor, Lucius was fodder, sent to probe the northern brigade. His efforts were near pointless given her infiltration, and his teammates had amounted to little more than a blood sacrifice that ultimately empowered the enemy. She was almost tempted to think that his deployment stemmed from an inside job. There was no other explanation, given the extent of his dysfunction.


    Despite his utter incompetence, the man was granted a divine opportunity. It was unclear exactly how he managed to survive his encounter with Claire. The princess had never discussed the event in any meaningful capacity, and she hadn¡¯t appeared wounded enough to suggest that she had been outmuscled. Whatever the case, his manner of escape was evidently impressive enough to earn the hunt god¡¯s favour¡ªthe timing of the reports suggested that he was chosen to be his champion shortly thereafter.


    Nodding to herself, Sophia put on the criocentaurian body that hung by the rack on the door and shifted her face one last time. As far as appearances went, she was nothing outstanding. She borrowed a few traits akin to the progenitor¡¯s so they would appear related and otherwise assigned an appearance just a little bit shy of striking. She had larger than average ears, wide, child-bearing hips, and a pretty but flawed face dotted with a series of freckles. Though her father was supposedly brown-furred, the lower half she borrowed was red, so she paled her skin and altered her hair to match. It was a perfectly calculated set of features; she was pretty enough to be looked upon favourably, but not so much that she could be easily remembered. Such was one of the classic strategies used by agents all over the nation. A charming smile lubricated the wheels of any conversation or negotiation.


    With all the preparations ready and her body inspected for seams, Number Fourteen exited the powder room and made for her destination. She pushed open the doors at the end of the hall immediately upon arrival and entered the room precisely at the designated time.


    ¡°Do you have a moment, Father?¡± She walked exactly four steps in before stopping in place, looking around, and raising a hand to her mouth. ¡°Excuse me, I was not aware that there were guests.¡±


    The words were spoken without emotion. A less experienced spy might have labeled it as poor acting, but she was simply selling a more realistic character. By masking little of her usual behaviour¡ªthe title she used for the progenitor was the only part she had to fake¡ªshe was able to construct a facade that would be easy to maintain long term.


    ¡°Ah, Sophia. What a coincidence, I was just about to call for you.¡± The progenitor put on a smile and gestured towards an empty armchair. ¡°Please, join us.¡±


    Like her demeanour, her name was also chosen because it saved her the need for readjustment.


    ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, this is my daughter, Sophia,¡± said the progenitor, as she was seated. ¡°Sophia, this is the party I was telling you about the other day. An impressive group, really, formidable by all accounts.¡±


    ¡°I am Sophia Ephesus, the fourth of my father¡¯s daughters. It is a pleasure to meet you.¡± She carefully eyed the targets as she performed a perfect curtsy. As reported, there were three of them, four counting the tiger gorging itself on pastries.


    One was a large thoraen man dressed in animal pelts. He had a hat made out of some sort of bear and a series of thinner skins making up the kilt atop his waist. His chest was bare, exposing the divine marks plastered all over his body. Where the tattoos were invisible, one could easily see his dark green skin. Its peculiar shade was closer to a goblin¡¯s than a standard thorae¡¯s, and as far as Number Fourteen could tell from the lack of records, it was another trait that had come in tandem with his divine selection.


    The other two were just as unpleasant to look at. One was a particularly ugly centaur with the smallest ears she had ever seen on anything besides an infant, while the other looked like an ancient form of lizardman. Her snout had an almost duck-billed shape, and in place of hair, there was an extended piece of darkened, floppy flesh dangling from the back of her skull. Had Number Fourteen not known it to be a bone-laden crest, she would have assumed that it was some sort of phallus. Her appearance was nothing short of revolting, and it didn¡¯t help that everything past her elbows and knees slowly transitioned from scale to wood.


    The divine beast was the only member of the party even remotely presentable. It was a shame then that he was also the only member too preoccupied with snacking to offer the young Miss Ephesus a greeting.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Nice to meet you,¡± said Lucius. ¡°I¡¯ve already said this to your dad, but we¡¯ve been looking for you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been looking for me?¡± asked Number Fourteen.


    ¡°Yeah. We need you to join our party.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t follow.¡±


    ¡°Neither do I,¡± said the progenitor. ¡°Sophia does have some military training, but she is nowhere near a high enough level for Kael¡¯ahruus¡¯ champion to take interest.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to hide your identities. My god¡¯s already told me everything. I know your race is not as it appears.¡±


    Sophia furrowed her brow and lowered her stance. He was almost within striking range. She was confident she could take his head if he so much as leaned forward.


    ¡°I am aware that you are a true champion, Mister Hyacinth, but I will ask that you refrain from making such a ridiculous accusation,¡± said the progenitor.


    ¡°Olethra.¡±


    ¡°If I must.¡±


    Number Fourteen felt her eyes spin as the phallic-headed woman put her hands together. It felt like the strength suddenly left her body. She collapsed onto the ground in front of her, not as a member of a criocentaurian house, but as a blob of silver goop. She tried to pull herself together immediately, but she found that her body refused to obey her commands. She couldn¡¯t even speak. And looking at the progenitor, she found him equally disabled.


    His body had melted into its true form. And though he was a little better off¡ªhe wasn¡¯t having quite as difficult of a time holding the bits of his flesh together¡ªhe was losing the fight against the mysterious effect.


    And then, just as suddenly, everything was back to normal. When the phallic lady returned her hands to her lap, the progenitor and the spawn both snapped back to their previous forms. Gone was any hint of the goop that was their splattered bodies. But the sensation still remained.


    ¡°That is quite a threat you have made, Lucius Hyacinth,¡± said the progenitor.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t a threat,¡± said the hunter. ¡°I¡¯ve no intention of exposing your identities for any reason, even if you refuse to work with us.¡±


    ¡°It is clear to me that you have every intention of using it in our negotiations.¡±


    ¡°Not really. My god said that you¡¯d listen if I was honest, and that you¡¯d allow your spawn to join our party because you¡¯d realise that it¡¯s the best choice.¡±


    ¡°Did he now?¡± The progenitor raised a hand to his chin and stroked his fake beard. ¡°Tell me then. What is your goal, precisely?¡±


    ¡°To kill Claire Augustus.¡±


    There was a brief pause as Ephesus raised his brow. The hand on his chin accelerated as he carefully scanned the visitors, pausing on each of their faces.


    ¡°What a treasonous statement,¡± he said, with a smirk. ¡°You do realise that the whole kingdom would brandish its blade against you, were I to simply report it?¡±


    ¡°We know it would, and we know you won¡¯t,¡± said Lucius. ¡°I told you, we know everything. You want to kill her just as badly as I do.¡±


    The progenitor laughed. ¡°Even supposing that to be true, which for the record it certainly is not, I fail to see the purpose of your visit. If you already have someone as powerful as her,¡± he looked briefly at Olethra, ¡°I don¡¯t see how my daughter would be able to provide any meaningful assistance.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not too sure either,¡± said the hunter. ¡°I was told that she¡¯d be key to pulling a win from the hat, but he never said why.¡±


    ¡°From the hat, you say?¡± The progenitor briefly closed his eyes. Number Fourteen could practically see the thoughts running through his mind. He was forming his strategy, and in all likelihood, considering the possibility of snatching the party¡¯s bodies post mortem. ¡°Fine then. I¡¯ll lend you my daughter. But only if you agree to my conditions.¡±


    ¡°What conditions?¡± asked Lucius.


    ¡°Nothing too complicated or demanding,¡± he said. ¡°If she happens to perish in the line of duty, then you will come to me and offer your head. In the case of your death, any of your surviving party members will do. Of course, we¡¯ll go ahead and secure the deal by way of the standard ritual.¡±


    It was a true binding contract. Not even Kael¡¯ahruus would be able to supplant Flitzegarde¡¯s authority and bail the mortal out of his fetters. If he agreed to the terms, his life would be bound to Number Fourteen¡¯s¡ªnot that she had much on the line. Even if she were to fall again, the progenitor would simply respawn her.


    ¡°I¡¯m willing to give you mine, but the others are off the table. And I¡¯ll only do it after we complete our objective.¡±


    The progenitor paused to tap a finger against his desk. ¡°It appears we have a deal, Mister Hyacinth.¡± He rose from his seat and extended his hand with a smile. ¡°It will be a pleasure to work with you.¡±


    ¡°Likewise,¡± said the hunter.


    With the handshake out of the way, and an almost fox-like smile across his lips, the progenitor made for the door. ¡°I will see to preparing the ritual¡¯s materials. Sophia, you may as well take this opportunity to get to know your new companions.¡±


    ¡°Understood, Father.¡±


    His words told only half the story. The rest was made clear by the leer he shot across the room. Its target, the one known as Olethra, was in need of extensive observation.


    According to the reports, she was a false deity worshipped by one of the local cults. The organisation in question was named Eternal Happiness, and for the most part, it had been left to its own devices. Never once had it made it onto Flitzegarde¡¯s list, which otherwise denoted all organisations marked for extermination, though the reason for its nonpresence was never quite explained.


    No one thought too much of it at the time. After all, the organisation was fairly harmless, only recruiting those who were drowned in debt. The cult purchased the loans from the prior holders and subsequently reformed the debtors, though the veracity of the lattermost point was to be called to question.


    It wasn¡¯t until he mentioned the problem in passing to a scholar of history that the progenitor had learned that there might have been more to Olethra than immediately met the eye. Her name was inscribed in ancient texts, dating so far back that the accompanying papers had long been eaten by moths. The only remaining records were reproductions that historians loosely filled in after making note of the records¡¯ disappearance. Still, according to the reports, Olethra was more than just a false idol, and it would fall to Number Fourteen to precisely determine her nature.


    ¡°Once again, I am Sophia Ephesus, mystic deathgoat,¡± said the spawn. ¡°I function primarily in combat as an arcane pugilist. I function best on the front lines, as a close combatant, but I am capable of functioning in a more supportive or long-ranged capacity if required.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Lucius, the one and only starforged voidhunter,¡± said Lucius. ¡°And this is Roumalou. He¡¯s a frontliner. I¡¯m usually in the back.¡±


    ¡°Awrooo,¡± said the tiger, whose face was covered in cake.


    ¡°Agrippina of Brinsidia. Racially, I¡¯m a northwind prancer. I fight like a sword dancer.¡±


    With everyone else introduced, all eyes fell to the party¡¯s final member.


    ¡°Olethra. Goddess of weights and measures,¡± she said.


    Number Fourteen blinked. In the face of the ridiculously bold claim, there was little else that she could do.


    Seeing the look, the self-proclaimed goddess put on a bit of a smile. And then, without warning, allowed her bound power to flow free.


    There wasn¡¯t much raw magic. Her mana felt like it still rang within the bounds of the mortal realm. But her divinity told a whole other tale.


    It started with her eyes. They changed from the same dark brown that covered her body to a blindingly brilliant gold as raw power coursed through the rest of her body. It filled her magic circuits, setting them alight under her skin as her presence filled the room, the castle, and even the city around it.


    From that, it was clear.


    Even without communing with the progenitor, Number Fourteen knew her next assignment.


    She was to find a way to retrieve Olethra¡¯s corpse.


    With it, with the immortal¡¯s body, the progenitor would finally be able to stand shoulder to shoulder with the man he called his master.

 Chapter 425 - Unfettered Joy VI

    <b><u>Chapter 425 - Unfettered Joy VI</u></b>


    Claire slowly caught her breath as her monstrous foe finally fell to its knees. The panther continued to twitch even after it collapsed into the snow, its copper-green blood seeping from both its broken neck and its severed head. The fluid was certainly curious, but not allowing herself to be distracted, she set the thought aside and drove Boris into the monster¡¯s back.


    Finally, the panther fell still and relinquished its experience. Ignoring the felicitations voiced by the box, Claire walked over to a tree, leaned her back against it, and closed her eyes. The level up that followed the large cat¡¯s death had covered up most of her exterior wounds. But perhaps because it had dug its fangs into her neck, or perhaps because its claws had raked open her chest, her body was still more sore than not.


    ¡°You should probably take a break.¡± Sylvia appeared on one of the branches overhead. ¡°It kinda looks like you¡¯re getting a bit tired.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Yeah, but you¡¯ve been fighting for hours!¡± said the fox.


    ¡°I can keep going. Vella¡¯s trials lasted for days.¡±


    ¡°I know, but still!¡± Sylvia dropped onto Claire''s head with a huff. ¡°You¡¯ve been focusing super hard.¡±


    ¡°Stop worrying. I¡¯m fine, really.¡±


    ¡°I know you think you¡¯re fine, and I know you can totally keep going, but you¡¯re already starting to slip a bit.¡±


    Claire paused. ¡°Not really.¡±


    ¡°Yes really! I mean, it¡¯s just a teensy little bit, but you¡¯re totally getting sloppy! Like uhmmm¡­ you know when you ripped off that guy¡¯s head?¡± She pointed at the dead panther. ¡°You did your math wrong when you calculated your vectors, so it came off at a bit of an angle instead of going straight up.¡±


    ¡°I did?¡±


    ¡°Mhm! You were off by like half a degree.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°And plus, it doesn¡¯t have to be a long break. You¡¯ll probably be rested enough if you just sit down and look over your stats or something.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Breathing a sigh, Claire grabbed the fox off her head and pulled her into her lap.


    ¡°You might wanna spend your points while you¡¯re at it,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯ve got a whole bunch stocked up by now.¡±


    The lyrkress shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m going to hold onto them until I leave the mountain. It¡¯ll be better training this way.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but you¡¯re totally gonna get yourself killed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnnn, you say that, but that cat nearly ripped out your throat. The only reason it didn¡¯t is ¡®cause its teeth got stuck on your spine.¡±


    ¡°Because I needed it to stay still. Now shush. I need to focus.¡±


    Pinching the fox¡¯s cheeks, Claire popped open her status and quickly looked over the numbers.


    ___


    <b>Claire Augustus</b>


    <b>Health: 1634508/1634508</b><b>


    </b><b>Mana: 30721640/30721640</b><b>


    </b><b>Divinity: 339611/339611</b><b>


    </b><b>Health Regen: 412.7/second</b><b>


    </b><b>Mana Regen: 8364.8/second</b><b>


    </b><b>Divinity regen: 9.43/second</b>


    <b>Ability Scores [x1.09] - 202622 Points Available</b><b>


    </b><b>- Agility: 71796</b><b>


    </b><b>- Dexterity: 84438</b><b>


    </b><b>- Spirit: 41808</b><b>


    </b><b>- Strength: 104892</b><b>


    </b><b>- Vitality: 34907</b><b>


    </b><b>- Wisdom: 110859</b>


    <b>Racial Class: Caldriess - Level 692.15</b><b>


    </b><b>- Cataclysm Convergence - Level 399.51</b><b>


    </b><b>- Realm of Eternal Frost</b><b>


    </b><b>- True Ice Manipulation: Level 215.19</b>


    <b>Titular Class: Witch of the Seventh Tempest - Level 47.01</b><b>


    </b><b>- Catgirl Affinity - Level 25</b><b>


    </b><b>- Essence Manipulation - Level 315.10</b><b>


    </b><b>- Heavenly Annihilation</b><b>


    </b><b>- Spirit Sorcery - level 94.11</b>


    <b>Unclassed Skills</b><b>


    </b><b>- Artifact Manipulation - Level 15</b><b>


    </b><b>- Cadrian Court Etiquette - Level 25</b><b>


    </b><b>- Digging - Level 14.89</b><b>


    </b><b>- English - Level 25</b><b>


    </b><b>- Fishing - Level 23.98</b><b>


    </b><b>- Llystletein Authority++ - Level 38.47</b><b>


    </b><b>- Marish - Level 20.04</b><b>


    </b><b>- Napping - Level 105.46</b><b>


    </b><b>- Singing - Level 80.72</b><b>


    </b><b>- Sneaking - Level 49.10</b><b>


    </b><b>- Weapon Mastery - Level 401.98</b>


    ___


    Visiting the Langgbjerns was clearly the right choice. She had gained fifty racial levels in the five hours she spent wandering around the base of the closest mountain and fighting everything she could find. Her titular class had grown fairly significantly as well, but only by its own pathetically slow standard.


    Her wisdom had overtaken her strength at some point following her vector magic¡¯s restoration¡ªa gap that would likely only continue to rise as her circuits continued to heal. Last she checked, just earlier in the week, her magical throughput had recovered to 5.03% of its total, though the numbers hardly told the whole tale. The spells she cast assisted by Alfred¡¯s medicine bolstered the efficiency of her magic by far more than a mere twenty times. That much was clear from the pain and effort it took each time to forge Flux¡¯s statues without the extra help. Granted, it was mostly a function of their size. Alfred¡¯s gate was dozens of metres tall, and the sculpture had to be much larger in order to obscure the gate without compromising its aesthetic.


    Spirit sorcery aside, all of her eligible skills had grown significantly. She wasn¡¯t sure why her spirit animals remained unavailable. It wasn¡¯t anything to do with her magic. Headhydra was the only guardian who had been present when she drank the celestial¡¯s brew. Her childhood spirits had simply vanished, and she had never quite found any others. The river was the closest thing she could think of. It had certainly given her the impression of a spirit, but she had no idea what it was in reality.


    ¡°Okay. I¡¯m done,¡± said Claire, as she got to her feet.


    ¡°Huh? Already? That was like thirty seconds!¡±


    ¡°There wasn¡¯t much to look at.¡±


    ¡°Really? Haven¡¯t you like, gotten any new skills or something?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Wait, really?¡±


    ¡°Really.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s weird,¡± said the fox. ¡°Don¡¯t you do all sorts of acrobatics and stuff all the time? I¡¯m pretty sure you didn¡¯t have any skills for that last time I checked.¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    ¡°I think it might¡¯ve been bundled into my racial skill.¡±


    ¡°Maybe? That¡¯s where your swimming and martial arts and stuff went too, right?¡±


    Claire nodded.


    ¡°What about alcohol tolerance? Didn¡¯t you drink a whole bunch while we were in the castle?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t drink much. And alcohol tolerance is bundled into Cadrian Court Etiquette.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s kinda weird,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I can¡¯t tell if it¡¯s better or worse that your skills are all bundled up.It kinda sounds like it means you can do a whole bunch of random stuff to boost your combat abilities, but they¡¯re probably really slow to level.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re a little slow, but not that bad,¡± said Claire. ¡°I think. I haven¡¯t done any direct comparisons.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we can ask Ciel when we meet up after all this mountain stuff? She¡¯d probably be happy to share.¡±


    ¡°Good idea.¡±


    Claire gave her shoulders a bit of a stretch as she glanced in the direction of the sun. It was starting to set, though she doubted it would make too much of a difference. Sure, the precise makeup of the monsters was likely to shift, but her ability to see in the dark left her otherwise unconcerned. If anything, she was confident that the accompanying silence would allow her to better detect any enemies nearby.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get us a stick,¡± said Sylvia. She climbed up onto Claire¡¯s shoulders and reached for the nearest branch, but Claire shook her head.


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother. I already know where to go.¡±


    She quickly stretched her arms before retrieving Boris and starting up the mountain. The whole river situation aside, she had yet to encounter anything that was strong enough to easily prey on the other local species. Some of the monsters might have appeared as predators¡ªcase in point the dead big cat¡ªbut in reality, they were relatively weak. Again, the dead cat was the perfect example. Claire was confident that it would have been ambushed and killed by the giant mushroom had the two happened to cross paths, and while it could have easily snatched up a lone herring, it surely would have failed to pick off a healthy member of a larger group.


    ¡°Are you sure? Heading up seems kinda risky when you¡¯re already struggling with all the stuff down here.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. I have a few tricks up my sleeve.¡±


    ¡°Mmk. But I¡¯m stepping in if you get too hurt.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±


    Giving the furball one last scratch, Claire turned straight north and got to walking. As she had noticed while running away from the river, the uphill environment was no different from its downhill counterpart. It was nothing but a monotonous stretch of boreal forest. Rocks, trees, and snow for days. Perhaps in the summer, it might have been different. But in the winter, the undergrowth was plastered in a thick layer of white.


    Though the day had started with a brilliant clear sky, a light flurry began to blow as the sky turned orange. It was only a few hours past noon, but so far up north, the daylight was much scarcer in winter. Only two weeks into winter, there were seven, maybe eight hours in a day. By the time the solstice came around, that number would be reduced to five, perhaps even less were she to venture deeper into the Langgbjerns.


    As one could expect from a set of monster-rich mountains, encounters were irritatingly frequent. Even discounting the stragglers, Claire found and avoided over a dozen different groups of monsters by the time the sun vanished beneath the horizon. All of them appeared to be prey species, and all of them travelled in groups. Herrings were the most numerous by far, with each of the seven groups she found containing a few thousand individuals.


    Coming in second were large, winged giraffes known by the system as fangshrews. Like herrings, they tended to travel in large groups made up of a dozen-odd males and a few hundred females. Encounters with them were only less common because they didn¡¯t take up nearly as much space as the fish. They bundled together, often stepping over each other¡¯s bodies as they made their way through the mountains.


    And then there were the bears. Their groups weren¡¯t quite as common¡ªClaire had only spotted two of them¡ªbut the communities themselves were just as big as those of the herrings. Claire was still unaware of their species name. Unlike the other two types of prey, they bundled too closely for her to think that it was worth picking them off, even if they comically scrambled up the trees as soon as they felt like they were in danger.


    It was a wonder as to how all the different animals were keeping themselves fed. The trees might have been edible, but the lack of damage seemed to indicate that they had few predators if any. It wasn¡¯t like there was much to forage either. The plants buried beneath the snow had no nutrition to show. They were entirely devoid of leaves, and there wasn¡¯t any fruit in sight. One might have assumed that the pine trees would produce cones and nuts alongside them, but Claire had spotted exactly zero. The entire ecosystem was nothing short of inexplicable.


    Or at least that was what she thought before the heavens turned dark.


    The whole mountain range almost seemed to come to life as the moon crawled her way up into the starry night sky. To say that the evergreens blossomed was but the most absurd of understatements. The iridescent astral projections that erupted from their roots were brighter than the heavens. For though they were coniferous in body, their spirits were those of magnolias, vitexes, and dogwoods.


    Petals of all shades and colours descended each time the wind blew, blending in with the snow and abscised pine needles to produce an illusory bloomfall possible only in the midst of winter.


    Not to be outdone, the rest of the forest soon followed suit. The jagged peaks grew gentle, round enough to lie atop while the snow transformed into a physics-defying frozen lake. Though it sat on a slope partway up a mountain, none of the water flowed downhill. Held in place by a series of gravitational distortions, its position was further solidified by the giant sheet of ice that served as its lid.


    So perfectly translucent was the frozen tarp that it was almost difficult to perceive. It was thin enough that it looked like it would shatter at the lightest touch, but it remained stalwart even when she thwacked it with her tail. Like the water, it was strangely distorted, almost forcibly maintained by the divinity that flowed through the mountain.


    It was so thick that she could see it.


    Wisps of gold sparked through the night. It was almost like the air was filled with electricity. Every once in a while, there was a crackle, a burst as the divine power jumped from one place to another.


    There was far more pressure in the mountains than there was in any church. And yet, Claire felt none of it. If anything, the divinity was uplifting. It filled her with energy and strength. It almost felt like she could sling as many spells as she wanted without having to worry about her body. For the whole mountain had become a giant magic circuit.


    The joy appeared to be shared by the monsters as well. Their transformations were even more drastic than those of their wooded surroundings, for they had shed their base forms entirely. The herrings that Claire had been watching turned from muscular sharks to the tiny fish their names suggested. Mushrooms became jellyfish and bears were made into finches. Giraffes shrank into small rodents, vlasches became tiny turtles, and wolves and panthers were reborn as cats and dogs.


    There was no more fighting.


    The animals were singing and dancing, holding hands as predator and prey enjoyed each other¡¯s company in turn.


    ¡°What the heck is going on?¡± asked Sylvia.


    When Claire looked at the fox on her head, she found her in her fairy form, stumped and naked as she looked herself over. Mimicking the action, Claire realised that she was turned into a tiny snake-moose, and that the local animals were waving to her with all manner of nuts and fruits gathered in piles nearby.


    ¡°I have no idea,¡± said Claire.


    They were accompanied by large gourds, filled with what seemed to be some sort of alcoholic drink in which the monsters were happy to partake. Their faces grew red and their temperaments more merry. There wasn¡¯t a single bad drunk. The liquor spread nothing but joy.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost like we¡¯re under some sort of spell,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t feel like any of this is an illusion, and I¡¯m pretty sure my head¡¯s still working right.¡±


    ¡°Your head is never working right.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush!¡± huffed the vulpine fairy.


    She threw on a set of clothes as she leapt off the lyrkress¡¯ head. ¡°So what now?¡±


    Claire paused for a second to scan her surroundings. ¡°This is the perfect chance to gain some more experience. Nothing has its guard up.¡±


    ¡°I dunno. That kinda seems like it might be a bad idea.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Everything else stopped fighting instantly, so whatever this is probably has its own rules or something. And uhm, I don¡¯t really think you should piss off whatever¡¯s in charge if it¡¯s strong enough to do all this.¡±


    ¡°Not yet, at least,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Uhmmm, I dunno if you really should ever,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯s probably a god.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t doubt it.¡±


    As with Panda¡¯s declaration, Aurora made for the most obvious candidate, but again, Claire highly doubted that it was her. While the goddess of the frozen wilds was a firm believer in inner beauty, so too did she abhor the thought of masking or otherwise modifying one¡¯s outward appearance. Given the phenomenon at hand, any other god would have made for a much more likely choice.


    ¡°Oh, actually, it¡¯s probably the divine collective! This totally seems like the kinda thing they would do.¡±


    Claire paused for a second before nodding her head. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    The divine collective referred to the many who came together to represent the arts, and the combination of the spell¡¯s wide-ranging nature and the overall aesthetic made for a convincing guess.


    ¡°So are we gonna join them?¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°That seems like just as bad of an idea. It still might be a trap or illusion, even if it¡¯s the divine collective¡¯s work.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on! Now you¡¯re just being paranoid.¡±


    Shrugging, Claire grabbed the tiny fairy with a vector and continued on her way. By indulging in unfettered joy, the monsters provided the perfect chance to press deeper into the mountains.

 Chapter 426 - The Scattered Dawn

    <b><u>Chapter 426 - The Scattered Dawn</u></b>


    Boredom started to take hold as the moon reached its peak. Claire was left largely unopposed; the partygoers that refrained from offering food or drink typically sang, pranced, and danced to inspire her to do the same. Their efforts, however, fell on deaf ears. Ignoring the locals, she continued on her way.


    Panda had instructed her to seek the lord of the Langgbjerns. She was yet unsure of said lord¡¯s identity¡ªthe bizarre nighttime display had only further muddied the waters¡ªbut the way forward was north. That much she could tell from how far the mountains extended; there was no way that its lord inhabited the southernmost parts, where even the predators were at their weakest.


    Though she wanted nothing more than to take to the air and rush towards her destination, she found it impossible to fly. Her body returned to the icy surface each time she flapped her wings. The same restriction appeared to apply to the transformed birds. They too were beholden to just a few flaps before they fell back to the ground.


    Running and rapidly slithering appeared to be equally restricted. Though many of the local beasts clearly worked their legs as they frolicked through the frozen fields, Claire¡¯s body grew heavy whenever she so much as formed the thought.


    It seemed like the sort of problem that her vectors could fix with ease, but even they were rendered inert. Every single force she crafted was immediately met with its opposite. Neither the quantity, the direction, nor the strength proved relevant. Her efforts were readily rebuffed.


    She had exactly one choice, and it was to take her time.


    By all means, it was the sort of limitation that would have typically irritated her to no end, but she was undisturbed. She laughed as she watched Sylvia dive under the ice and chase after the fish only to emerge as a shivering mess. She hummed a tune as she lazily wriggled her way forward, stopping occasionally to look back on the city below. And she smiled when Rubia joined her in her adventure up the wintry slope and looked around with her eyes agleam.


    There were no threats, nor fights, nor devious traps on her way, and the scenery remained static regardless of the distance she travelled. It was no test or adventure, just a leisurely stroll up a leisurely mountain. And yet, her heart was soaring. She still had no idea why she felt the way she did. Perhaps there was no reason, nor even a need therefor. But just like she had been throughout the rest of the day, Claire was simply happy. And that was how she stayed, even as the night eventually chased itself away.


    Her happiness, however, did little to take from her guard. She remained well aware that the critters gathered round as the day drew closer to breaking and that their gazes began to shift from playful to hungry. But as the night faded, so too did the mysterious power that kept her abilities bound. She extended her wings and shot into the sky the moment the sun peeked its way above the horizon, just in time to watch as the Langgbjerns transformed again.


    It was by the light that the peace was vanquished. Each critter that touched the sun¡¯s rays was turned into a ravenous monster whose first thought was to devour its neighbour. Each tree who found the blazing star saw its jovial spirit dismissed. And each icy patch that reflected the sky was returned to plain white powder.


    Claire found that she was changed as well, reverted to her towering true form and made a clear target for the hungering masses beneath her. A fungus shot from the ground and reached with its tentacles, while a panther leapt from a tree with its eyes on her neck. At least five dozen herrings took to the sky, their massive jaws wide open and their teeth gnashing. But while it certainly made for an intimidating sight, the lyrkress was well out of harm¡¯s way. She had shot high enough that none of the ground-dwelling monsters were able to reach her.


    It was a shame then that they only made up three quarters of the total population.


    Half the fish that erupted from the snow grew hundred-meter wings as they reached for the clouds. Claire twisted her body and evaded the closest flying squid, only for an orca to seize her between its jaws. Its teeth crunched straight through her scales and buried into her flesh, stopping only as they met her frostblighted bones.


    Claire drove a talon into its face as it recoiled and loosened its jaw, only to be shaken off and discarded while the killer whale continued its skyward journey. It was too fast for her to chase, moving at more than twice her top speed. She couldn¡¯t have caught up even if she wasn¡¯t stuck dealing with the horde that followed.


    It was a dense wave of once-aquatic life. Minnows became eagles. Seaweeds turned to soaring penguins and pufferfish became elk as flying squids of all shapes and colours flooded the northern sky.


    Claire used her ice to seal shut the wound left by the orca before summoning Boris in front of her. She spun him with her vectors as she shaped him into a massive, jagged drill embedded with shards of true ice.


    Though dozens charged straight into the spinning blades, only three weaklings fell victim to the head-on collision. The others continued, marching skyward with little regard for her attacks, even as she tore into their faces and rent their flesh asunder. Not a single individual looped around and charged her again, albeit not because they were deterred by the wounds she gave them. She was only one of the many with which they were engaged in combat; the squids attacked the penguins, the penguins ate the eagles whole, and the eagles gorged themselves on living clouds.


    It was a mess and a half of pure violence, a veritable orgy of blood and guts as jaws and claws corrupted the sky in turn. The creatures on the ground were engaged in much the same savagery. Herrings, bears, and giraffes fled in all directions while vlasches and stropharia hunted them down.


    Claire took a moment to catch her breath. Gazing upon the ridiculous scene, she took in the insanity that was the northern land.


    The fighting was everywhere.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    There wasn¡¯t a place she could see where something wasn¡¯t in the midst of killing something else. Blood fell from the sky like droplets of rain, with the occasional corpse joining in the heavenly descent. Trees fell with such speed and frequency that she didn¡¯t understand how there were any left to begin with. The forest couldn¡¯t have possibly survived a day, let alone however many millions of years it had been since the mountains had first formed.


    Though curious, she was allowed no more than fifteen seconds of observation before she was dragged back into the fray. One of the vlasches engaged its powerful, grasshopper-like legs and leapt from the side of the mountain. With all seven of its rear limbs working against her, she had no time to react. She barely managed to swerve out of the way and avoid its gaping maw. It was a well-timed dodge, but one of the claws that sprouted from the base of its neck snatched her serpentine body before she could open up any distance between them. It was just too fast. She had the limb in sight from start to finish. She had anticipated the strike, read it as clear as day. And yet, she didn¡¯t register the start of its motion until its fingers were wrapped around her frame.


    The vlasch gnashed its jaws excitedly, putting its eyeless face and its yellowed, human-like teeth on full display as it dragged her to its lips. She pushed against both its limb and nine-tailed tongue with her vectors, but its raw strength was too far in excess. Wrenching free from its grasp was equally impossible. It gripped her with such force that her guts threatened to erupt from her eyes. But such was only to be expected of a monster near three thousand.


    Its strength, however, served too as its greatest weakness. She waited to enter its mouth before casting a trio of spells at once. Two were plain old vectors; she pushed on the top and bottom of its skull so its lips would close even faster. The last was to form an icicle tall enough to stretch from the base of its tongue to the roof of its mouth and sharp enough to rip through its flesh.


    Only with the spell deployed did she shrink her body, slide down the length of its arm, and race her way to the base of its neck. It swatted at her, but she made another massive prism of true ice to ward off its attacks, ensuring that only it was harmed as it hammered its fists into its own body.


    Together, they fell from the sky and crashed into the side of the mountain.


    Claire was first to rise. With her ice still wrapped around her body, she could have easily forced a disengage by escaping the monster¡¯s range, but that was paramount to giving up a handful of free experience. Though blown away by the force of the impact, the other monsters soon returned to the newly formed crater, ready to finish her kill.


    She was having none of it. Kicking her magic circuits awake, she dashed up to the vlasch again and wrapped it in a thin layer of true ice. The only hole, left for her own escape, was closed as she departed its frame.


    It was <i>her </i>prey. She was hardly about to yield it to the mountain¡¯s madness.


    There was no time to revel on how little it had hurt to encase such a giant monster. A group of bears approached the front, while a statue of a naked man ran down the mountain with his blades alight. To the left and right were snakes made of discarded bottles, and walking trees with fleshy veins that bulged with every step.


    Maybe a third of the assailants were capable of magic. The trees unleashed bolts of lightning, the bears breathed waves of fire, and the bottles drew her closer with heavy gusts of wind.


    Spells of all different schools flashed through the mountains, burning, freezing, boiling, and crushing everything that was anywhere to be seen. Off in the distance, closer to the mountain¡¯s base, she could even see the river running rampant¡ªor at least the effects of its spells.


    It was an exercise in chaos. And even though she was still wounded, her torn flesh only sealed with frost, though she was no doubt far from the strongest creature present, she found herself in her element.


    Allowing her divinity to course through her circuits, she opened the eyes that adorned her body and scattered their gazes through the mountains. Her targets were the weakened, especially those already on the verge of losing their lives, and those that had barely emerged from their battles triumphant. It was against them that she unleashed the second magic that dwelled within her eyes. The backlash was immediate and intense. She could feel her mana veins struggling, growing hot with pain as she channeled the full extent of her mystic might.


    Her pupils turned from slits to sigils as their bodies were turned from flesh to ice and ice to dust.


    Every eye she used to cast the spell was destroyed beneath the attack¡¯s overwhelming force. She was only able to maintain it for a minute before her vision was reverted to its usual, bifocal state. But a minute was enough to secure a headcount just shy of an even hundred.


    Her breath was heavy. But her pain was only middling. It barely hurt any more than it had to make a few walls of true ice just a few weeks prior. But there was a minor problem. Having stolen prey far and wide, she found an audience rapt with attention. She wasn¡¯t sure how exactly the monsters were able to pinpoint the source of the disruption, nor even why they cared. They had taken greater interest in sating their stomachs than bolstering their experience until she took it away. Still, she was happy to accept their challenge. What was a hundred more when she had twice that number charging her already?


    She considered disintegrating them with her breath, but she dismissed the thought after taking a moment to assess her circuits. The time for magic was over.


    She lifted the frozen vlasch she had previously set aside and wielded it like a battering ram, mowing it through the mountainside hordes with its tip sharpened to a point. Though it could no longer resist with its frozen, unmoving muscles, the grasshopper-turtle was heavy enough that she could only bring it near mach one. Even with all of its mass, it was unable to deliver any fatal blows. But it was good enough.


    Assuming her humanoid form, Claire drew a pair of Borises and entered the fray after throwing the giant icicle downhill. She landed behind a herring and bashed her lizard into the top of its skull. When the first blow only cracked its head, she followed with a second and split its face in two.


    The others in its vicinity immediately leapt into retaliatory action, but her allies were nonpresent. She was the only lower-leveled foe that they had to copy. And without Jules¡¯ firepower, Krail¡¯s ability to guarantee a hit, or Lana¡¯s time-defying zone, they made for an easy harvest.


    The first to cast her realm was the first to meet its end. She closed the distance between them and rammed a dagger into its throat. Twisting Boris, she ripped the fish¡¯s head straight off its body and left it to fall where it stood. Blood sprayed from its corpse like a fountain, dyeing the snow in a rich ruby red, but Claire took no time to appreciate the winter flowers.


    She had already slammed a hammer-shaped Boris into another herring by the time the first hit the ground. Breaking its jaw with one blow, she turned its brain into a pancake with a second before spinning around and throwing an axe to kill another would-be caster.


    Only the fourth was able to recreate the starry night sky and the accompanying Llystletein mountain that still haunted her mental landscape. But even with the blizzard at full blast, the fishy combatant was ended. Diving through the storm, she shoved a dagger through the side of its face and split its head in half in one swift motion.


    So easy it was to rain down upon them. They truly were the weakest monsters. And having gained levels, hand over fist, having pushed her ability scores over new thresholds, she found their slaughter as easy as pie.


    What concerned her far more was the vlasch catapulting its body in her direction. She still didn''t know how to deal with their hands whilst deprived of her ice, and the glowing red mutant heading towards her had more than thrice as many.

 Chapter 427 - The Scattered Dawn II

    <b><u>Chapter 427 - The Scattered Dawn II</u></b>


    Krail pushed his body up and down as he worked through his newly assigned nightly routine. They had spent the better part of the day working through the dungeon. It was already late into the evening; the sun was starting to work its way beneath the distant horizon, and dinner would soon be served.


    Under Allegra¡¯s instruction, they progressed with surprising ease, felling monsters as high as level 1500 without the magus¡¯ direct assistance.


    Known as Red Rabbit Junction, the dungeon they entered looked nothing like the mountain that lay beyond it. Most obvious among the changes was the apparent season. It was closer to late summer than early winter. There wasn¡¯t a hint of snow anywhere to be seen and the temperatures were warm enough that the party had to shed its layers, else risk overheating even just standing still. It didn¡¯t help that there were fires ablaze off in the distance, burning what was left of the forest that had once filled the dungeon¡¯s domain.


    Assuming the blaze to be the party¡¯s fault was no doubt within the realm of reason. From the few times she had stepped in to help, Allegra had certainly unleashed some of the most powerful flames that the party had ever seen. They burned with the might of the sun itself, completely obliterating everything that they touched with pinpoint precision. Alas, she played only the tiniest of parts in the dungeon¡¯s charring, for it had long been alight by the time of their entry.


    The grassless terrain was dyed in a deep ash-grey, and the mostly deciduous trees that took root in the realm had been charred to blackened poles. There were many still standing¡ªonly a few had fallen over in the ever-expanding blaze¡ªbut their leaves and branches were burned right off, leaving only their trunks behind.


    So ashen and charred was the scene that it looked like the backdrop to the apocalypse. And yet, there was life all over. All sorts of different animals wandered throughout the hills, pecking and digging at the collapse to find food among the forest¡¯s funeral. Their shapes were fairly varied¡ªthere were coyotes, wild chickens, and goats aplenty¡ªbut for some bizarre reason, their sizes were eerily consistent.


    Every single creature had the exact same dimensions; they were three meters tall, five meters long, and one meter wide, regardless of how easily their shapes conformed. It was almost like they had been made of rubber and compressed and stretched so they would fit the designated specifications. Everything just looked <i>wrong.</i> The coyotes were too tall and the chickens were too long. The vultures up above often grew far too skinny, especially when they spread their wings¡ªthe one meter constriction on the creatures¡¯ width persisted even when body parts were extended.


    It was a gimmick that the monsters themselves were happy to readily abuse. Though their levels were hardly the highest of the bunch, the birds were the hardest to fight because they would shrink the width of their bodies by extending their wings whenever they needed to avoid incoming attacks.


    Still, they fell to the party¡¯s efforts¡ªnot that they were functioning as much of a party at all.


    They tackled the monsters either solo or in pairs in order to maximize the amount of experience gained, and it was precisely because it was not yet his turn that the old elf was engaged in more casual exercise. His world still bobbing up and down, he kept his eyes ahead and watched with curious interest as each of the party¡¯s close combatants dueled a misshapen rooster.


    Being much higher level¡ªnearly 870 according to his elven eyes¡ªLana had far less trouble. Simply standing her ground, she met the giant chicken in a head-on confrontation and fought as would any other warrior. She swung her axe like a woman possessed, parrying the incoming beak and talons whilst returning blows of her own. Back and forth they went, with the chicken abusing its ultimate¡ªthe ability to negate the damage of any blow caught in its field of vision¡ªand Lana further bolstering her speed as the exchange continued.


    Refusing to match the approach, Chloe was focused on escaping the rooster¡¯s purview while it chased her around the once-lush hills. Were it any slower, she likely would have been able to slip away, but it barely kept pace and stopped her from vanishing beyond its sightline.


    Her predicament stemmed from a failed sneak attack. She had put all of her eggs into the basket of ripping open the chicken¡¯s neck whilst she remained unnoticed, only for the bird to turn around right before she lowered her blade. It had come down to a stroke of misfortune. Her sneaking had been perfectly on point. The only reason she failed was because the misshapen bird finished its meal at that exact moment and raised its face to seek another.


    Just when he thought that the maid would need assistance, however, she happened to pull through with a miraculous attack. She constructed a trap while on the run, and by laying it on the ground in front of her, she caught the chicken in a web of silken threads.


    From there, she only needed to deliver its death, but it was proving a little too difficult. The tiny needles that she carried on her person were hardly long enough to puncture any of its vital organs. Even with her dagger, she struggled. The chicken was too good at turning its head; it was difficult to identify an angle that would allow her to deal any substantial damage. And eventually, it broke free and continued with its pursuit.


    For a while, the two stalemates ensued. The screeching and banging of clashing steel rang through the hills, lasting for nearly five minutes before Lana arrived at a solution. Using her axe as a shield to obscure the enemy¡¯s vision, she plunged her claws into its chest and ripped out its heart.


    ¡°Good work,¡± said Allegra, as the wolf girl joined them on the bench. ¡°You did better than I was expecting.¡±


    ¡°I did?¡±


    The rabbit nodded. ¡°You did a good job of figuring out a way to stop it from seeing your attacks.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± said the pirate.


    ¡°However,¡± Allegra adjusted her glasses, ¡°you happened to miss the most obvious solution. You could have easily slid under its body and cut open its guts.¡±


    Lana blinked. ¡°That sounds risky.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but getting used to dodging attacks from that position is key to the upcoming duels. Unless you¡¯re fighting a monk, getting under a centaur will generally allow you to keep yourself out of harm¡¯s way. Most are not particularly skilled in unarmed combat. The best they can do is maybe step on you, or give you a good kick. Either way, it¡¯s much better than getting hit by their weapons or antlers, and much more predictable to boot.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Lana paused for a second. ¡°I see.¡± With her eyes closed, she imagined lying on her back and rolling around as she tried to parry a series of falling hooves. ¡°Won¡¯t they just back off? Or leap away?¡±


    ¡°Their frames make it a lot more difficult than you¡¯d think, and most will lock in their trajectory the moment they kick off,¡± said Allegra. ¡°Even the ones with wings are vulnerable the moment they leave the ground.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t reach them,¡± said Lana. ¡°I don¡¯t have any ranged attacks.¡±


    The greataxe she carried was taller than she was, but her arms were stubby enough that her reach was still middling at best. It didn¡¯t help that she stood somewhere between a third to half as tall as the average centaur. As it stood, she struggled to strike at anything that wasn¡¯t their legs.


    ¡°That¡¯s why you have to learn to maneuver while on your back,¡± said Allegra. ¡°We¡¯ll want to run a few drills and work on your explosive power. You¡¯ll have an easy time tearing them apart if you get to your feet faster than they take to the air.¡±


    The wolf girl frowned. ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come the fuck on,¡± grumbled Jules. ¡°So you give them real advice, and make us mages waste our goddamn time? The fuck is this!?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s necessary.¡±


    ¡°Like fuck it is!¡±


    Like Krail, the clam was alternating between approaching the world and shoving it away. Each push up he did elicited a spray of sweat, not because the man was out of shape, but rather the sheer quantity of exercise that he was forced to endure. The exact number was up in the hundreds, if not the thousands. They had been at it ever since the party had decided to make camp.


    The elf was perhaps the least pained by the experience. By distancing his mind from his body, and simply not feeling the burning pain that coursed through his butchered pectorals, he continued to go up and down in turn. Jules was clearly struggling to lift his giant, shelled body with just his flimsy arms, but he was still better off than their nation¡¯s queen.


    Arciel was unmoving with her face in the dirt. A line of drool dripped from the corner of her lips while the rest of her body twitched on the odd occasion to affirm that she was technically still alive. Tempted was the elf to lay the blame on the giant weights strapped to her chest, but if anything, they had only prevented her from going quite as low with each push, and Jules¡¯ shell proved far worse for both weight and convenience. Arciel simply lacked the muscle to keep up, no doubt because her maid so often spoiled her rotten.


    Turning his eyes back on said maid, Krail found precisely the moment she emerged victorious, only to do a double take and collapse mid-push up.


    So obvious was the solution to anyone named Chloe that the elf banged his head against the ashen ground.


    Dashing behind a blackened tree, the maid threw off all of her clothes in the blink of an eye. She managed to keep the uniform mostly held in place, stuck against her frame, whilst rushing up the length of the tree with only a spool of wire between her lips.


    The rooster crashed into the dead oak and rammed its beam straight into her dress, only for the bare naked half-succubus to land on its back. She wrapped the wire around the rooster¡¯s neck, but found herself unable to finish it. The misshapen bird looked down just in time to prevent her from breaking its spine, though it seemed like the maid had planned around the eventuality.


    Reeling in the wire, she pulled her dress over the crossdressing rooster¡¯s head and rendered its ultimate inert. It struggled fiercely against the cloth, but Chloe skillfully reeled and released the wire in time with the bird¡¯s movements and prevented all hints of damage. While her hands were busy, she reached forward with her face, bit through the chicken¡¯s feathers, and into the flesh of its neck.


    From then, it took only a few seconds for it to fall. When it rose again, it did so as her thrall and joined the twenty others standing on the sidelines. Though she gathered them as a contingency when otherwise overwhelmed. Allegra had banned her from abusing the racial ability in training on account of its inapplicability. Living weapons aside, companions were only allowed to be brought into the ring if summoned in the middle of combat or if the duel was specifically that of the mounted variety, and there was no point in practicing their use if she would be forced to fight without them.


    ¡°How was that?¡± asked Chloe, as she threw her clothes back over her body. Krail couldn¡¯t help but notice that only her dress and apron were accounted for. There wasn¡¯t a hint of underwear anywhere to be seen.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I should be confused, appalled, or impressed,¡± said Allegra. It was certainly creative, but also incredibly inappropriate. ¡°Even if you have a plan, you can¡¯t just take off your clothes in the middle of a duel.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± asked the maid, with a slow blink.


    ¡°You¡¯d be far too embarrassed to fight,¡± said Allegra. ¡°Just imagine yourself standing naked in front of a crowd several million strong. Not everyone present will be quite as¡­ defective as the two men in our party. Yo¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hey! What the fuck is that supposed to mean!?¡± screamed Jules. ¡°My junk works fine! It just doesn¡¯t work for <i>that.</i>¡±


    Allegra coughed. ¡°Right, so as I was sayi¡ª¡±


    ¡°Bitch! Don¡¯t just brush me off like that! Acknowledge it goddammit! Fucking apologize at least!¡±


    ¡°R-right, I¡¯m sorry,¡± said Allegra, as she snuck a look into Jules¡¯ shell. ¡°So a¡ª¡±


    ¡°Did you just check!? I swear to fucking Griselda!¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t really blame her,¡± said Chloe, as she adjusted her apron. ¡°It¡¯s really hard to tell just by looking at you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s literally fucking true of everyone! Look at fucking Krail! You see his balls? No, you fucking don¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°It ju¡ª¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s because he¡¯s wearing clothes,¡± said Chloe, matter-of-factly.


    ¡°I¡¯m wearing clothes too!¡±


    ¡°All you have is a tie. It¡¯s not exactly hiding anything,¡± said the maid.


    ¡°Can the two of you <i>please</i> let me finish?¡± shouted Allegra. She gritted her teeth and forced a smile as she looked around the camp before lowering her voice to its prior volume. ¡°Thank you. Now, as I was trying to say earlier, it just wouldn¡¯t work. Can you imagine yourself standing naked in front of millions of people?¡±


    ¡°Easily,¡± said Chloe, as she toyed with her chest. ¡°I¡¯m pretty well endowed, and I take good care of myself. I wouldn¡¯t mind showing off at all.¡±


    Allegra blinked. ¡°I don¡¯t think getting excited would help either.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not an exhibitionist,¡± said the maid. Her voice was steady, entirely nonchalant. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t get off to it either. I just don¡¯t mind.¡±


    Allegra blinked again. ¡°I was under the impression that even succubi have senses of shame.¡±


    ¡°We do, and I do,¡± she said.


    ¡°Right,¡± muttered the rabbit, her eyes somewhat distant.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s probably better not to think about anything she says,¡± said Jules, with a laugh.


    ¡°I¡¯ve met many humans in my time, and she stands out among them for being one of the most curious,¡± said Krail. ¡°Though I suppose she isn¡¯t exactly human anymore.¡±


    ¡°Lewd ancestor,¡± said Lana. ¡°I think.¡±


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t that her last ascension?¡± asked Jules. ¡°What¡¯re you now?¡±


    Chloe twitched. ¡°S-so anyway, great day out, isn¡¯t it? The skies sure are nice and ashen.¡±


    ¡°So you weren¡¯t lying about the sense of shame then?¡± Allegra toyed with her glasses. ¡°Interesting. I wonder if your species is distorting your perception in some way?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think her race has had any effect on her,¡± said Krail. ¡°She has always been this way. Our first encounter was a little bit strange¡­¡±


    ¡°Wait, hold the fuck on,¡± said Jules. ¡°We should make her spill the beans before you two get too carried away and forget.¡±


    ¡°There aren¡¯t really any beans to spill,¡± said Chloe. She was trying to be calm, but she was clearly still fidgeting.


    ¡°Yeah? Then how come you aren¡¯t telling us your race?¡±


    ¡°I-I¡¯m a uhhh, succubus, yeah,¡± she said.


    ¡°Bitch, I ain¡¯t falling for that. Spit it out already. You¡¯ve made it plenty fucking clear that it¡¯s way more embarrassing than that.¡±


    ¡°Not at all!¡± Laughing awkwardly, Chloe spun around and started walking off. ¡°I¡¯m going to go look for another thing to fight. I¡¯ll be back later!¡±


    ¡°Oh, no you fucki¡ª¡± The clam pushed himself off the ground with a grunt and began constructing the spells he needed to give chase, but Allegra held out an arm, stopped him, and slowly shook her head.


    ¡°Leave her,¡± she said. ¡°She needs the experience, and she¡¯s rarely this motivated.¡±


    The clam frowned, but threw up his arms and sighed after taking a few moments to stare at the rabbit lady¡¯s face. ¡°Fine, have it your way,¡± he grumbled. ¡°But just saying, I¡¯m interrogating the ever-loving shit out of her as soon as she gets back.¡±


    His eyes still on the fleeing sex demon, he lumbered his way over to the fire and put his mind to work. The maid clearly wasn¡¯t planning to talk even upon her return. He was going to need to think up a way to force her to divulge her secrets.

 Chapter 428 - The Scattered Dawn III

    Chapter 428 - The Scattered Dawn III


    Claire loosened her shoulders and caught her breath as she watched the giant turtle close in. The red that covered its shell was not a brilliant crimson like the blood splattered all over the snow, but a dark, rusted iron to match the metallic nature of its body. Every last bit of organic material had been replaced with sheets of metal. Looking far more geometric than not, the vlasch almost seemed closer to an iron golem in the shape of a Langgbjern turtle than it did a true member of its species. Its behaviour, however, affirmed that it was no mere copy. It ate everything in its path, extending its hands to grab trees, herrings, and panthers without the faintest hint of discrimination.


    She still wasn¡¯t sure how she wanted to approach it. Her first instinct was to face it head-on, but the iron vlasch¡¯s hands were even faster than those of its organic peers. One moment, they were in their sockets, and the next, they were stuck in a creature a full hundred meters away.


    It wasn¡¯t like it was strictly an upgrade, however. The mechanical mole turtle was much slower to reel in its prey, and it often struggled to correctly capture it within its mouth. But like the second vlasch that the party had found, it made up for its weakness with its mastery of lightning.


    Opening its maw, long before it closed the distance, the giant, rusted turtle vomited a blast of concentrated electricity. Nine bolts flew from its nine tongues and struck the lyrkress head-on.


    Thinking that it was risky to simply take an attack from a monster around level three thousand, Claire tried her best to dodge. And were she not cursed by the god of thunder, she surely would have succeeded in doing just that.


    Alas, it was not meant to be.


    The lightning curved as she leapt out of its path and caught her by the tail. It raced up the length of her spine and coursed straight through her body. But despite her concerns, she found herself unharmed. The worst jolt to come out of the attack was on the level of a static shock. The simplicity of its magic revealed the metal vlasch to be more of a close combatant than a mage. Perhaps, even with the difference in their levels, her resistance had simply negated its attack.


    Or at least that was what she thought until the sky warped out of shape. The mass of lightning that gathered above contained enough power to distort the heavens themselves. It vaporized not only the surrounding clouds, but even the atmosphere, and ripped open a hole to the cosmos.


    What Claire had mistaken for a plain old projectile was but a marker for a more powerful attack. For each of the tracer rounds, there was an unholy blast, a bolt of lightning with nearly enough voltage to be a source of elemental power¡ªjust as how the giant mushrooms could almost produce true ice, the mutant vlasches could almost produce arc plasma.


    Even the first felt like it would kill her. She could feel it frying her body, bubbling her blood and destroying her flesh. Bright, vein-like patterns appeared in her skin, marring it beneath her scales.


    She almost screamed, but she grit her teeth and stood her ground. Panting heavily, she grabbed the next bolt with a vector and wrenched it off course. It pushed right back against her efforts, but she was able to force it to strike the ground beside her instead. Bolts number three and four were given the same treatment, she missed the timing for five. And thrown off by the searing pain, six, seven, eight, and nine as well.


    The consecutive attacks blackened her flesh. Charred bits crumbled off of her body as the vlasch drew ever closer. It was almost in range to skewer her, to claim its burnt meal and crunch its way through her charred organs.


    But Claire was having none of it. Forcing her circuits back into action, even as they screamed their complaints, she completed a set of emergency repairs. All the bits of blackened skin were coated in a faint layer of ice, and the talon and leg whose flesh was lost regained their shapes in translucent blue. Once fixed enough to regain her form, she raised her lizard and assumed a stance. Unlike his master, Boris was unfazed, undamaged by the lightning. He contained the current within his body, even as she clasped him between her teeth.


    She didn¡¯t wait for the mechanical turtle to strike. Ripping open a portal, she teleported directly behind it. It was a bit too quick for her to keep up, but she latched onto its frame by hooking her claws into the tip of its tail. From there, accessing its vulnerable, exposed buttocks was as simple as climbing its stubby rear appendage.


    It wasn¡¯t like she could simply worm her way under the monster¡¯s shell and tear at its spine. There were no gaps between its shield and its flesh, but that particular problem was easily resolved.


    The vlasch immediately caught onto her ploy and started swiping its tail back and forth, but there was nothing it could do to stop her from climbing.


    Its hands simply couldn¡¯t reach that far. Like an unfortunate, inflexible centaur, it was incapable of reaching its posterior.


    Perhaps in panic, it started to strike itself with lightning. Each pulse that traveled through its body melted more of her flesh and further deprived her ability to carry a charge. The true ice she used to patch her scorched parts was entirely non-conductive, and its coverage only grew with every volt the vlasch delivered.


    Claire was barely conscious by the time she reached the back of its shell. Her breaths were red and moist, but she drove her scalpel straight into its butt regardless and cut open its metal skin to reveal its still-fleshy interior.


    Though showered by a mix of oil and blood, Claire continued to strike, carving away the tissue that sealed its shell shut. She almost didn''t feel it when the turtle¡¯s lightning strikes lit the fuel on fire. Unlike its magic, the fire was a simple physical phenomenon. Her resistance saw it ignored.


    From there, the vlasch was easy pickings. She burrowed her way through its chest cavity and tore its heart to pieces.


    Log Entry 885322


    You have slain a level 3019 Langgbjern Silver Vlasch


    You have gained the following bonus rewards:


    - 1049 points of agility


    - 2033 points of dexterity


    - 7992 points of spirit


    - 7400 points of strength


    - 2914 points of vitality


    - 188 points of wisdom


    Log Entry 885323


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been partially restored.


    Your racial class, Caldriess, has reached level 717.


    Your titular class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has reached level 51.


    You have gained 2888 ability points.


    Emerging from its body with half her flesh restored, she lunged straight at a panther. It clamped its jaws the moment she closed in, but she defended against its teeth with the ice that covered her left arm. With her right, she traced Boris through its body, delivering a straight, heavy blow that separated the two halves of its head.


    Only when it was dead did she set her eyes on its prey¡ªa small group of bears in the midst of fighting a fungus. They were slowly whittling it down, defeating its icy incantations with their flaming breaths. Just like the ice it wielded, the mushroom was weak to fire.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Making a mental note, Claire charged into the fray, her spear-shaped lizards glimmering in the light as she drove them into the bears¡¯ open backs. The first two to fall howled in pain, but barely registering the sounds, the caldriess continued to slaughter her way through the pack. She killed all ten before flapping her wings to get a better angle on the mushroom. But as she rose into the sky, as she shook the vlasch¡¯s blackened blood out from within her ears, she found the mountains dead silent.


    It wasn''t like the monsters had disappeared. Rather, they had simply stopped moving, regardless of what it was they were in the middle of doing. Together, all at once, they turned their heads straight north. And Claire was made to do the same.


    It is now 8:00.


    A moment later, she heard a distant voice. It was quiet, but clear, deep and husky¡ªa voice that could only have belonged to the goddess of the frozen wilds.


    The morning frenzy has reached its conclusion. All monsters are to report to their assigned locations. Further acts of violence will be banned for precisely one hour.


    Naturally and nonchalantly, the monsters untangled themselves from their predicaments and headed off in seemingly random directions.


    Dungeon monsters will be authorized to free roam for 45 minutes starting at 8:15. Please ensure that you have arrived at your station prior to their release.


    Their wounds vanished with their departures. Broken legs, cracked skulls, and even missing guts were put right back in their rightful places. Once fully healed, the monsters were cleaned, given a fresh coat of paint devoid of the bloodsport¡¯s stains. And it wasn¡¯t just them. Claire and the mountains were subjected to all the same treatment.


    Trees sprung up out of nowhere and replaced their deceased counterparts. The placement wasn¡¯t exact; it wasn¡¯t like they rose from the broken stumps. Rather, they simply appeared haphazardly wherever there was space. Any fallen trees and stumps they touched were magically absconded from the realm in favour of new growth. Likewise, the snow, which was muddied and bloodied by the gratuitous violence, was restored to a perfect, pristine white. Every single footprint was erased, and though they distorted it with their steps, the traveling monsters left no fresh tracks in their wake.


    Dark, heavy clouds formed overhead, dimming the sky as a strong wind began to blow.


    It stirred the fallen snow, causing it to drift to and fro as another layer fell from the heavens. It started out as a light, almost invisible display, but it picked up with each second that passed, becoming a raging blizzard that blotted out the sky and forest in turn.


    Not even with her enhanced sight could she see her feet. The snow was so dense that it almost felt like she was swimming¡ªdrowning in it. It continued to pile on her face and clog up her vision until a bubble appeared to keep it at bay.


    ¡°Holy crap!¡± squeaked the shelter¡¯s creator. ¡°What the heck is up with all the snow!?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Claire. ¡°But it¡¯s because of the goddess of the frozen wilds.¡±


    The divinity that radiated through the winter storm was completely different from that which had affected the mountains at night. The sensation it produced was almost familiar, similar enough to her own that she could have absorbed and manipulated it with ease.


    ¡°I guess that means last night¡¯s stuff was ¡®cause of the divine collective then?¡±


    ¡°Probably.¡±


    Lifting the fox off of her head and pulling her into her arms, Claire spread her wings and hastened up the mountain. It wasn¡¯t a dash or even a run per se, but she made sure to fly fast enough to stay afloat without the use of her vectors.


    She was feeling confident enough to move onto the next area. River aside, the vlasches were effectively the most powerful non-aerial predators, and having killed a few of them already, she was itching for something a little bit different. It helped that Aurora had healed her. Her circuits felt as good as they had before the morning frenzy, and the eyes destroyed by the recoil had all been readily returned.


    A smile appeared on Claire¡¯s face. From the message Aurora had relayed, it sounded like the healing and the frenzy were both regular events. If that were really the case¡ªshe needed to wait a few days to confirm that it wasn¡¯t part of a larger schedule¡ªthen the bloodbath was a chance to go hog wild and unleash the full extent of her might.


    Before she knew it, a tune escaped the snoose¡¯s lips. Rather than one of the ones that Sylvia had taught her, it was an old tune she had picked up back when she lived in the manor, a simple but lovely tune that Marie had often hummed.


    ¡°Someone¡¯s in a good mood,¡± said Sylvia, with a giggle.


    ¡°A bit,¡± said Claire. ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to come up here.¡±


    ¡°Into these mountains?¡±


    The snoose nodded. ¡°Ever since I saw them from way up in the manor. And ever since Allegra told me how dangerous they were.¡±


    ¡°Does it really get that much worse? I mean, the monsters around here do seem a little tougher than usual, but the one you just beat was already over 3000!¡±


    ¡°Levels aren¡¯t everything.¡±


    ¡°I know! But they¡¯re still something. And I mean like, 3000 is a really big number.¡±


    ¡°The deeper we go, the stronger they¡¯re supposed to get. The monsters out here are the ones that were chased away.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± asked the fox. ¡°They seemed like they were a pretty big deal already, compared to everything else you fought.¡±


    Claire sighed before turning her body so that they were parallel with the mountain. Their distant peaks were completely blotted out by the blizzard, but she pointed at them regardless, her lips a faint smile. ¡°Don¡¯t you see how far they go?¡±


    ¡°How far what goes?¡±


    ¡°The Langgbjerns.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯re only supposed to do that when I can actually see them.¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡± A light pinch. ¡°Just close your eyes and pretend.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fine.¡± Giggling, the fox cleared her throat and stared into the blizzard.. ¡°Er¡­ uhm¡­ I guess you¡¯re right. It almost looks like they go on forever.¡±


    ¡°They might as well,¡± said Claire. She closed her eyes and thought back to the sight that Griselda had shown her. ¡°They take up a third of the continent.¡±


    ¡°Wait, seriously!?¡± cried the fox. ¡°What the heck!?¡±


    ¡°Right? You should see what they look like from space.¡±


    ¡°Oh! That sounds like it¡¯d be fun,¡± said the fox. ¡°But I kinda wanna wait until we¡¯re done, just so nothing gets spoiled.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Claire, with a faint smile.


    She hugged her fox a little tighter and rubbed their cheeks together. She stayed like that until a devilish plan appeared in the back of her head¡ªa plan she immediately acted upon.


    Shifting her face just a little, she buried her nose into the back of Sylvia¡¯s head and pressed her lips into the fox¡¯s neck.


    ¡°Eep!¡± The fox leapt out of Claire¡¯s arms with a start, her body shuddering like a cat in a thunderstorm. The action was mimicked by her bubble, which was completely distorted out of shape and squished in haphazard directions before being quickly rearranged. ¡°W-what the heck was that for?¡±


    ¡°What was what for?¡±


    ¡°Y-you uhmmm...¡± She tried to hide her face with her paws, but fumbling around, she found that her snout was too big and her non-humanoid hands were too tiny. ¡°Y-you kissed the back of my neck!¡±


    ¡°No I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°You totally did!¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°Yes you did!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Sylvia puffed up her cheeks. ¡°W-what the heck! You¡¯re such a meanie,¡± she mumbled. ¡°At least warn me next time.¡±


    ¡°Warn you about what?¡±


    ¡°Meanie! Pervert! Bully!¡±


    Each insult was accompanied by a barrage of light smacks, but Claire continued to smile throughout.


    ¡°If anyone¡¯s the pervert, it¡¯s you,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re the one who panicked for no reason.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t for no reason!¡± Grumbling, Sylvia crossed her arms and huffed. ¡°Geez! What the heck¡­¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind never doing it again if you really hated it that much.¡±


    ¡°H-huh? W-wait, uhm, that¡¯s not what I mean either!¡±


    ¡°So you want me to keep doing it?¡±


    ¡°No! I mean yes! I mean no, I mean¡­¡± Sylvia sighed. ¡°Ugh¡­ there¡¯s just no winning with you, is there?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    Not even bothering to cover up her laughter, Claire pulled her fox into her chest again and continued her way north.


    She realised, as she squeezed the furball, that Panda¡¯s claim had a much greater effect on her than she would have liked. She couldn¡¯t help but recall a particular quote, born of a conversation that had left her father fighting for words¡ªa quote that she felt like she had finally come to fully understand.


    There was nothing more fun than someone worth teasing.

 Chapter 429 - The Scattered Dawn IV

    Chapter 429 - The Scattered Dawn IV


    The mountains changed again exactly fifteen minutes after the curtains fell on the frenzy. Marked by the dense, magical waves that pulsed throughout the land, the transitory phase cleared the blizzard and sky in turn. The only non-living clouds to remain were small specks, tiny thin puffs raised far above their usual elevations. Shaped around the mountains, they were like fluffy white halos, present only to crown the illustrious peaks that dominated the northern lands.


    If not for the wooly wreaths, the snowy slopes, and the muted monsters, it would have been an endless field of azure that stopped only as blue dimmed to black. But while they were certainly poised to steal her focus, Claire found very little of her attention taken by the heavens.


    She was preoccupied instead with the magical sources that had produced the shockwaves to begin with. There were dozens of them scattered throughout the mountains, the closest just a few kilometers above her. Like heat, magic tended to naturally disperse over time and distance, so it was difficult to pinpoint exactly where it had come from. But looking up, Claire found only a few likely candidates. All of the epicenters were caves, large gaping holes in the side of the mountain that led deep into its depths.


    Nothing happened for the first few seconds she spent observing them, but the rightmost hollow began to stir right as she thought to raise her ears. A single bear marched out from within its confines, confidently tottering about in a manner that hardly seemed appropriate given the species¡¯ evident cowardice. A second emerged after a brief delay, and then a third and a fourth. Every subsequent ejection was a little faster than the last, and it didn¡¯t take long for the single file line to grow into a messy mob. The flaming, ursine monsters poured from the entrance en masse, squeezing as many as five of the giant creatures out the door at a time. Over a thousand must have emerged in the first five minutes she watched, with only more of them on the way in a seemingly endless procession.


    None of the cowardly beasts reacted to Claire¡¯s approach. They were too busy scrambling down towards the foothills where their people were gathered. It wasn¡¯t just from the mountain that they swarmed. Another blob marched through the forest, their numbers just as utterly absurd. Her eyes started to spin before she could count them all up, but there must have been twenty thousand bears in total. Most were the usual variety, featuring pelts made of fire with an ordinary ursine shape, but there were also a few oddballs thrown into the mix¡ªbears with different elemental compositions and slightly changed bodies.


    She was almost tempted to dive into the crowd and pick out the variants, but it seemed like more trouble than it was worth. The bears were weaklings, and she had greater priorities.


    Rising through the sky and glancing into the cave, she found the entrance to a dungeon buried deep within it¡ªa large ruby-red stone that rippled each time a bear emerged. It was a dungeon break, the sort of phenomenon that would have caused all sorts of trouble and panic anywhere else, especially with monsters of such a high level. But in the Langgbjerns, it was perfectly commonplace.


    The bears were not the only ones appearing from the aether and restoring their numbers in droves. From her position, roughly halfway up the mountain, she could see schools of herrings and bales of vlasches. Though certainly eye-catching, none of the groups were quite as arresting as that of the flying penguins. Rising from a hole in the ground, they cut into the sky and joined the flocks overhead. All throughout the Langgbjerns, the monster populations were inflating anew, growing again to make up for the morning¡¯s slaughter.


    After a moment of consideration, Claire placed her fox back on her head and dove straight into the bear-bearing crystal.


    Log Entry 885324


    You have entered The Hall of Fire. The monsters that lurk in this dungeon far outclass you.


    She was subjected to a wave of attacks as soon as she stepped through the door. Though the bears queued up in front of the exit ignored her, the ones that were sitting beside it, seeing off their compatriots, were nowhere near as passive.


    Sourced from over a thousand individuals, the streaks of flame came together to form a monstrous wave of roaring fire. It almost reminded her of the volcano she found in crimson rock, but unlike the eruption therefrom, the combined breath attack was easily deflected.


    Directing the stream with one of her fingers, she sent it crashing into a patch of bears before diving into the fray.


    It was only as she murdered them that she noted the dungeon¡¯s layout. It was simple, almost too simple¡ªa long hall inside of a fiery mountain marked by an uphill slope. But unlike the similarly straightforward layout she had found in Crimson Rock, it managed to spark her interest immediately. The hill could be broken into ten distinct segments, each a few kilometers long and populated by a different species. The accompanying bosses were likewise visible from the get go.


    The much smaller, almost childish-looking bear in charge of the first segment was spinning its daggers with its eyes locked on her frame, while the living armour in charge of the second lethargically toyed with the sword on its hips.


    So on and so forth, the challenges were laid out. A bipedal wolf with arms made of flame, a large deer covered in more crossbows than fur, and a floating head accompanied by a fork and knife made of molten lava. All of the challenges culminated at the peak of the fiery mountain with an automaton that had cannons for arms, puppeted by an ashen arachne whose abdomen was as wide as the ascending path.


    Slicing through another bear, Claire allowed a faint smile to creep its way onto her lips. It was a full suite of challenges, and if she wanted to verify the consistency of the mountain range¡¯s effects, she would need to finish them by the end of the day.


    ___


    Allegra sent a pulse of magic through the party¡¯s surroundings, confirming for the 426th time that there was no danger inbound before directing her eyes back to the battle unfolding in the valley beneath her. There was a frown on her lips all the while. It had been six full days since they entered the Langgbjerns and the party had cleared Red Rabbit Junction twice over. Finally feeling a little more confident, they had returned to the mountains to challenge a set of tougher foes.


    She had to admit that the strength they gained over the last half week was not insignificant. To be more precise, Chloe and Arciel, the last two who still fell behind in levels, had drastically bolstered their ability scores by way of murder, while the others had better learned to use the tools they had at hand. Jules¡¯ progress was especially impressive. He had merged three of his classes into a single, more powerful alternative. And with said class on the verge of acquiring its thousandth level, the clam was on the brink of becoming a magus. She was so impressed by his progress¡ªhe had even gone on to fill his two empty slots with a pair of schools perfectly suited to the circumstance at hand¡ªthat she was tempted to ask him to drop out of the tournament so she could formally adopt him as a disciple.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Still, despite everyone¡¯s growth, the rabbit was anxious, anxious enough to produce the day¡¯s 427th pulse. Remaining in the mountains wasn¡¯t worth the risk, especially how much they had changed from the last time she saw them. Constantius had warned her of the dangers, but it was clearly more than just what he had claimed. Something wasn¡¯t right. There were far too many mutants.


    Case in point, the griffon with which the party was actively engaged. It was just a fledgeling, likely somewhere between 1900 and 2400, and yet, it was giving them no end of trouble. Unlike a normal griffon, which would have been made of flesh and blood, the variant had a malleable body crafted from silt and soil. The soft, loose dirt was even more difficult to destroy than a Cadrian veteran; it had no obvious weakness, and would reform even when blasted to bits.


    Its unique constitution came with few downsides. It was just as fast and strong as a regular griffon, and its talons, beaks, and claws were all just as sharp and deadly.


    Mass was the only thing it lacked, but it made up for the weakness through the manipulation of its body. Not only could it control any detached parts from afar, it could also reshape them, turning scattered feathers into beaks and talons alike.


    It was a wonder that they even fought it to a standstill. All the members were continuing to abide by Allegra¡¯s restrictions. Jules wasn¡¯t allowed his red magic, Krail had his mouth bound shut, Lana was banned from maintaining her domain, and all of Arciel¡¯s ars magnae were restricted. But though certainly weakened, none suffered quite as much as Chloe. The offensive use of her teeth aside, she wasn¡¯t allowed any of her racial abilities. Even the accompanying blood magic was banned¡ªshe had started to rely on it immediately after growing accustomed to its use.


    Sighing, Allegra twiddled her wand and scanned their surroundings for the 428th time. She doubted that she would find anything, but as her detection magic reached the furthest reaches of its range, she noticed that there was something inbound.


    It was not a creature, but a clump of mana, specifically a solid projectile coated with an arcane enchantment. The spell in question was fortified by an almost absurd amount of faith, enough that she understood at a glance that all was as the deceiver had warned.


    They were being hunted, and it was already too late to warn the Vel¡¯khanese; her voice wouldn¡¯t make it before the arrow exploded.


    Annoyedly clapping her ears together, the rabbit lifted her wand and sifted through her mystic library. Picking lightning for its speed, she connected the circuit between her spellstick and her target, vaporizing it before it could fall from the sky. The magic still went off and blew the heavens apart, but its effect on the party was moot.


    ¡°We¡¯re under attack!¡± shouted the rabbit.


    Expanding the range of her radar, she found the sniper at roughly twice her effective range. The arrow had come not from the mountain directly in front of them, but the one to its left. The total straight line distance was over a hundred kilometers, even more accounting for the parabola in which the arrow had travelled.


    It took a second for the realisation to kick in. The hunter had arced an arrow over a mountain roughly three dozen kilometres tall with pinpoint accuracy.


    And more importantly, the hunter had arrived in the Langgbjerns before them.


    She waved her wand whilst gritting her teeth and quickly deleted the mutant griffon. The same ray of light restored her allies, who she immediately approached and guarded¡ªdirecting her magic towards the sky, she crafted a great shield that would prevent any attacks from above. And that was precisely why the next arrow came from the left instead.


    It looped around the side of the mountain, traveling in a gravity-defying arc that was more absurd than possible. And yet, it gunned straight for her heart, falling short only because it was obliterated by a wall of fire.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± asked Krail, as he tore the binding off of his lips.


    ¡°Cadrians! No more restrictions! Prepare to engage!¡± Allegra barked the orders as she blocked a third arrow with a blast of wind.


    ¡°The fuck?¡± shouted Jules. ¡°I thought they weren¡¯t supposed to be after us anymore! Or up in the mountains at all! Shit!¡±


    ¡°Most aren¡¯t,¡± said Allegra. She erected a wooden dome thick enough to ward off any additional projectiles. ¡°But you overpowered Pollux¡¯s army and destroyed a city in the process. Grudges don¡¯t die so easily.¡±


    ¡°Have you identified our foes?¡± asked Arciel.


    The cottontail hesitated for a moment before nodding her head. ¡°The standing army only has three bowmen strong enough to enter the Langgbjerns, and I know all their magical signatures by heart.¡±


    ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake, stop beating around the fucking bush!¡± said Jules.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t any one of them,¡± said Allegra.¡±


    ¡°The fuck is that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see in just a second.¡± The cottontail undid her defence as she spoke and turned her eyes towards the hunter¡¯s perch. The sniping had stopped as soon as she threw up her shield.


    ¡°They¡¯re giving up their post?¡± Krail stroked his chin as he joined her in looking.


    ¡°They weren¡¯t getting past my defences,¡± said Allegra. ¡°We could have easily advanced on them if we wanted.¡±


    ¡°So they¡¯re saving their stamina? Should we try running? We might as well waste more of their energy while we still have the chance.¡±


    ¡°I might¡¯ve been inclined to agree if they were any slower, but it isn¡¯t happening.¡± The magus pointed her wand at the rapidly approaching cloud of billowing snow. ¡°Prepare to engage. We''re going to be in for a fight.¡±


    According to her spells, they numbered four in total; three fighters¡ªa thorae and two centaurian variants¡ªsat on the back of a large beast that doubled as a fourth combatant. Though she was prepared for an immediate attack, the group stopped in front of them and dismounted before closing the last hundred meters on foot.


    Though a cordial gesture, it amounted to little but putting Allegra on guard. Four was the wrong number. They were supposed to be five, and their most threatening member was nowhere to be seen. It was both a relief and its exact opposite. She couldn''t shake the feeling that the enemy¡¯s trump card was waiting somewhere in ambush, either that or going after Claire.


    ¡°I am Arciel Vel¡¯khan, empress of tentacles and blood, and the reigning queen of Vel¡¯khan.¡± The squid stepped up and greeted the strangers. ¡°For what purpose are you attacking us?¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t really matter, does it?¡± said the thorae at the center of the group. ¡°Prepare to die.¡±


    ¡°You would not return a formal greeting?¡± said Arciel, as she covered her frown with her fan.


    ¡°No point,¡± said the thorae. ¡°Hunters don¡¯t give their names to prey.¡±


    He loaded his bow and fired it in one swift motion, but his arrow missed its mark. Throwing a dagger, Chloe deflected it before it could reach her mistress. The maid immediately stepped forward, produced a handful of needles seemingly out of thin air, and awaited any further commands.


    The thorae¡¯s allies were just as quick to jump into action. Both charged in right away, one with her fists at the ready, and the other with a pair of blades drawn.


    Lana met the swordfighter head on, while Krail was first to engage the monk.


    With the cascade of arrows he launched, it took only a second for the battlefield to devolve into chaos.

 Chapter 430 - The Scattered Dawn V

    Chapter 430 - The Scattered Dawn V


    Lucius took a moment to scan the battlefield as he prepared his second shot. Numerically, they were at a clear disadvantage. They had only four to the enemy¡¯s six, but the thoraen hunter was unconcerned. Most of the enemies were mages, and by observing them from afar, he had confirmed that, unlike his countrymen, the Vel¡¯khanese casters lacked the ability to function in close quarters.


    A smile crossed his lips as each of his party¡¯s members engaged their intended target. Roumalou was on the vampiric pair. The blessed tiger¡¯s fur was so thick that it was impossible for the maid to cut through it, and without any functional guards, the Vel¡¯khanese queen would be unable to cast any notable spells.


    Agrippina, in the meantime, had the warrior marked, leaving Sophia to handle the two male casters. The once famed pit fighter was fast enough to run circles around the enemy pirate. Against anyone else, Lana¡¯s domain might have proven troublesome, but Agrippina¡¯s blade was long enough that she could attack from beyond its reach.


    The false goat, on the other hand, had familiarity and raw numbers to her advantage. She had already sketched out a detailed battle plan for seeing the pair subdued, and having seen her ridiculous abilities for himself, Lucius was confident that she would be able to see it to fruition.


    That left Allegra. The Grand Magus was a formidable foe. Even with his god at his back, his chances were only as good as the flip of a coin. Still, he was confident. If he stalled for long enough, his allies would dispose of hers, and from there, taking her down was as easy as leveraging their numbers, assuming the plan was voided.


    But as it stood, everything was in order. It was only a matter of time before they ensnared their prey.


    A smile on his lips, Lucius aimed an arrow at the Grand Magus and fired it across the evening sky. His enchanted bow bolstered the projectile¡¯s power, adding to it a burst of magic born of his faith to his god.


    It could have been any element. A whispered prayer was enough to warp it in whichever way he thought best¡ªsuch was the divine armament bestowed upon him by the lord of all hunters. And yet, even with all the flexibility in the world, he knew only one viable selection.


    The sealing art would be his bread and butter.


    Had he chosen anything else, she would have been able to negate his attack with an opposing element. But with sealing as his school, any magic touched by his arrows would be disabled for as long as its caster remained in combat.


    And if it landed on target?


    In such a fortuitous scenario, it would steal all of her magic and render her inert for the rest of battle.


    He didn¡¯t know if she was aware of its precise properties¡ªhe had heard through the grapevine that she was a master of rapid analysis¡ªbut evidently, she knew that it was best avoided.


    Her eyes opening wide, Allegra cancelled her magic midcast and rolled out of the arrow¡¯s path. Another projectile followed her to her destination, but she hopped out of the way as only a cottontail could and returned an attack of her own.


    She produced a hole at his feet. It was not just a simple cavity, but a pit of burning magma that erupted as soon as it formed. He could feel his feet melting. The searing pain threatened to dissolve even his bones, but reinforcing his flesh with his faith, he steeled himself against the damage.


    As long as his belief in his god held true, and as long as he remained focused in the face of agony, it would do him no harm. He very well could have left it, but forming another arrow with his faith, he sealed the spell for good measure.


    Exactly as Allegra had hoped.


    The lava hardened around his knees without spitting him back out of the ground and primed him to be impaled by the dozen stone pillars that burst from the surrounding snow.


    Lucius steeled his will again and prepared to reject the bladed rocks. But he was not their target.


    They crashed into his bow and bashed its wooden frame from all different angles. For a second, it almost looked like the divine armament would shatter, but like the hunter¡¯s hand, it remained undamaged, practically oblivious to the Grand Magus¡¯ attacks.


    The only thing that his blind faith was unable to reject was the way that the stone closed around his arm. It locked both his weapon and his hand in place by forming a massive obelisk¡ªa towering, stone construction that extended thirty meters into the sky.


    Like the thorae¡¯s own attack, it was a type of sealing magic. The spell rapidly sapped his strength while another five pillars sprang from the earth. Lines of magic shot from their bases, forming a pentagram with him at its center.


    Her goal was clear, and her power was clearer.


    Breaking through on his own was impossible.


    And so he prayed to his god.


    The jet black tattoo that covered his bare chest came to life with a golden light as soon as he voiced his worship. It pulsed through his body, spreading into his veins and filling his flesh before erupting from his person and shooting into the sky. The seal held for a brief moment, but it soon cracked apart, the stone pillars crumbling to dust before his deity¡¯s might.


    Blessed by Kael¡¯ahruus¡¯ power, Lucius punched away the giant fireball that Allegra had thrown towards him before nocking his bow again and unleashing a wave of arrows.


    Half were aimed at Allegra, knowing that she would be able to dodge them, while the rest were shot towards her allies¡ªthe mages that his allies were in the midst of fighting.


    There had been no time for communication.


    Allegra had never relayed to the Vel¡¯khanese the danger of touching his arrows. And surely enough, as he used his hunter¡¯s eye to see the world with time at a crawl, he confirmed that they prepared to counter by throwing their spells towards his shots.


    A smirk crossed his lips. Allegra had two choices. She could either sacrifice some magic of her own to delay her allies¡¯ inevitable defeat, or she could allow him to seal their spells and leave them to fall in the aftermath. In either case, his barrage ensured that the advantage was theirs.


    Unsurprisingly, the Grand Magus chose to consign her own magic to oblivion. She struck down his arrows with bolts of lightning, timing it perfectly so each arrow was simultaneously intercepted. He almost wanted to admire the sequence¡¯s beauty. She had perfectly controlled the individual bolts so that he would seal just one of her spells.


    Had he not his hunter¡¯s eye, he likely would have been left to wonder exactly what she had done¡ªnot that it mattered. His reaction was unchanged. He simply repeated the action, nocking another fistful of arrows to his bow.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    The second wave was clearly aimed with everyone but the Allegra in its sights. Lucius half expected her to pull another, similar spell from her hat, but he also lowered his stance and prepared to evade anything that she threw his way.


    But Allegra did neither of those things.


    Again, lightning fell from the sky.


    And again, each of his arrows was deleted.


    Suspicious, he raised a brow and repeated the attack, but the results remained unchanged.


    Only then was he finally sure of it. It was the exact same spell. Somehow, her magic was defying his seal.


    A chuckle escaped the bee-ogre¡¯s lips as he saw another wave denied. He couldn¡¯t help it. It felt like his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest. Allegra was everything he had ever wanted in a target¡ªit was precisely when his game struggled against his jaws that he understood his master¡¯s creed, that he felt the thrill of the hunt as it was always intended, that he embodied the fervent desire to feed upon the mighty¡ªbut even she was just bait for the true chase to follow.


    He needed her corpse, all of their corpses, to lure out his quarry.


    It wouldn¡¯t do to simply take down Claire Augustus.


    To truly savour the taste of her flesh, he would need to bring out the demon that had destroyed the City of Progress.


    If he allowed Allegra to continue to run loose, then she would certainly derail his plan, and that was something that neither he nor his god could ever allow.


    It was fortunate then that he had a contingency in place¡ªhe had long identified her weakness.


    The next arrow he drew was not crafted by his faith, but one of the blessed twelve stored within his quiver. When nocked against his bow, it rejected the sealing magic with which the divine armament was blessed and cycled its own pure power.


    Unleashed as a line of light, it became a beam that bridged the gap between its carrier and its target without even a moment in flight. Instantly, at the speed of light, the arrow and its target were connected.


    There was only one caveat.


    Though it pierced Allegra, it did her no harm.


    Because it was not one of his master¡¯s divine implements.


    It was one of Olethra¡¯s.


    Its ability was that of forced spending. Upon its release, it would destroy alongside itself an item of choice of equal or lesser value. And as a divine relic crafted by a true god, the arrow¡¯s worth was far in excess of that of Allegra¡¯s magical scarf.


    There was an immediate change in her demeanor. The rabbit started shivering like mad, her buck teeth chattering with all the speed of a rabid woodpecker. Her condition only worsened when a second arrow destroyed her enchanted jacket and a third broke through the body sock she wore beneath it.


    Allegra launched another set of lightning bolts, calling them down from the sky. But they never found their target. With her whole body trembling violently in the cold, her wand was too unsteady to designate the point of contact.


    A smirk on his lips, Lucius raised his bow again and pointed it at her chest. He held his breath to steady his aim, and then, nearly cackling, he unleashed a wave of sealing arrows.


    Allegra may as well have been disabled. By all means, the attacks should have landed directly on target, but they evaporated before they made their mark. She had wreathed her body in a bright flame and put an immediate end to her shivering. So hot was the fire that it produced a burst of superheated gas on the verge of turning to plasma.


    Lucius¡¯ grin was renewed as he gave himself a silent scolding. He should have known. There was no way the Grand Magus of all people would lack a way to compensate for her greatest weakness.


    Still, he was unconcerned.


    He ignored the magical fire that she poured upon his body the same way he had ignored her previous attacks before giving his surroundings a scan.


    Everything seemed to be on track. Agrippina was in the midst of disassembling their axe fighter and Sophia had the two mages on their back feet. Roumalou was the only one who was struggling. He was being swarmed by a group of monsters who had appeared out of nowhere. The giant, misshapen chickens were fairly weak if considered individually, but there were enough of them that the tiger was unable to reach his prey. Their signature ability to ignore any unseen damage certainly didn¡¯t help, especially when they continued to move even after he ripped off their heads. It was almost like they didn¡¯t care for their own well-being.


    Still, the vampiric caster was focused on him, working out a way to pierce his hide with her spells.


    Nodding, the hunter returned his attention to Allegra, only to be reminded that there was more than one vampire.


    Chloe grabbed him by the shoulder, spun him around, and delivered a dagger straight into his throat. It was followed by a wave of needles. The first two handfuls went into his face and disabled his eyes and ears. The next few dozen were delivered into his body, effectively turning him into a mess of metal that looked more porcupine than person.


    One of Allegra¡¯s spells struck him in the meantime, zapping a thousand times over with a lightning barrage.


    But though certainly caught off guard at first, Lucius emerged unharmed. The metal pieces lodged in his throat and eyes¡ªthe ones that had struck him before he could recall his god-given aegis¡ªwere pushed out of his body as his flesh returned.


    He swept his bow at the maid as he recovered, but she evaded it with ease. She even had the audacity to retrieve her weaponry before she backed off again. It was like she was taunting him. And after a moment of consideration, he realised that it was just that.


    She had been stalling for time¡ªtime for the extended chants that he only began to hear once she removed the metal from his ear holes.


    One was from Allegra.


    Reciting the scripture of the sun, Allegra flooded the heavens with ash. Chunks of rock, columns of flame, and an entire sky¡¯s worth of igneous material. It was accompanied by a torrent of rain and a wall of wind, together with a young tree at its core. The elements soon merged together, driven by faith¡ªthe same power that fueled his attacks¡ªand remade the rabbit in Rikael¡¯s image. It was one of her ars magnae, one of the famous spells that had once nearly exterminated his people.


    The other incantation, recited by the queen of Vel¡¯khan, was born of the blood spilt throughout the battle. The vital fluid seeped into the snow gathered beneath her to form a crimson throne. And from it rose a legion of fighters ready to turn the tables.


    There was a praying mantis, a snake made of nothing but heads, and a leviathan from the depths of the sea. So on and so forth, their lines were reinforced by monsters from the dungeons they conquered.


    It was an easy spell to seal.


    Raising his bow, he fired an arrow at one of the many shapes before turning so he could face Allegra. That should have been the end of it. But looking down, as he felt a sharp pain, he found his arrow¡¯s head sticking out from the side of his neck.


    He immediately scanned his surroundings for an explanation. And soon, he found it, right as one of Allegra¡¯s spells made contact.


    Among the soldiers of blood stood the one he sought to destroy.


    Among the soldiers of blood stood the form of Claire Augustus.


    He nearly howled with rage, but he couldn¡¯t afford to prioritize the copy. Despite his faith, the scripture of the sun had set his body, his clothes, and even his weapon on fire.


    It was just a faint seed in the back of his mind, but he couldn¡¯t help but doubt the efficacy of his god¡¯s protection, not when her flames were blessed by Rikael herself. Still, even with every cell in his body lit on fire, the thoraen warrior remained in control. He continued to regenerate, his body just durable enough that her flame alone was unable to bring his end.


    Anger coursed through his veins as he drew a weapon from his waist. Like his bow, the item was granted by his master, but unlike the bow, which was a low-tier relic, the blessed dagger was forged from one of the lion god¡¯s fangs.


    So deadly was the weapon that it could even kill a god.


    But by the time he raised it, he found his enemies gone from his reach. They fled through a rift while the creatures made of blood held off his allies.


    He could have given chase, but he lowered his weapons as a smile crept onto his face, a smile that remained even as the rift was closed¡ª


    ¡°Olethra?¡±


    ¡°It went exactly as planned.¡±


    ¡°Perfect,¡± he growled. ¡°Now, we hunt.¡±


    ¡ªbecause they were not the only ones to manipulate the essence of spacetime.

 Chapter 431 - The Scattered Dawn VI

    Chapter 431 - The Scattered Dawn VI


    Waiting first for her mistress to evacuate, Chloe was last to enter the portal. She could never quite get used to the sensation of teleporting. The change in elevation was jarring every time, not just because it threw off her balance, but because it messed with the air¡¯s composition. The moisture, oxygen level, and pressure changed all at once and completely overwhelmed her senses.


    Arciel¡¯s most recent creation was even more uncomfortable than usual. It almost seemed to stretch and compress her body. She was spun around until she was dizzy and shaken until her brain was turned to mush.


    So odd was the feeling that she had to close her eyes, clutch her head, and fall onto her knees as she groaned. The biting winter winds suddenly permeated her bones and left her wishing for the warmth of a fire. The drop in the ambient temperature was so dramatic that she was struck by a wave of drowsiness. It felt like her brain was about to shut down. Still, she soon returned to her feet.


    ¡°Is it just me, or was that a little rougher than usual?¡± she asked.


    At first, she thought it was the portal¡¯s fault that everyone had gone quiet, but as she noted the whistling wind, the cackling wild animals, and the distinct lack of her companions¡¯ groans, she realised that there was something amiss.


    Opening her eyes revealed the source of the cold. The sun was gone. Though it had been evening just a few moments prior, she found the moon on its way beneath the horizon. And if the clear night sky was not enough to stump her, the rest of the world certainly was.


    She was positioned on top of a mountain. From where she stood, she could see an almost infinite number of distant peaks, poking up above the clouds and blotting out the horizon with their iniquitous monotony. There were only a few as high as the crown beneath her, interspersed within their much smaller peers.


    It was an awe-inspiring, bone-chilling sight, a sight made infinitely worse by her lack of companions.


    Were it not the middle of the night, she would have long bitten the dust; she was high enough on the mountain that the fliers could have easily reached her and snatched her in their jaws. Instead, they frolicked, swimming playfully around the frozen mountain-lake while the ground dwellers skated across its surface.


    It was exactly as she had read. The mountains at night were nothing like they were in the day. Still, there was a problem, a problem beyond her crippling solitude. The monsters were almost entirely unfamiliar.


    It wasn¡¯t at all because of her negligence. She had taken the time to memorize everything in the papers provided, which covered both the day and night forms of all the known species. Even pulling the encyclopedia from her skirt and flipping through it again, she found no similar creatures described. The sailfish, the dolphins, and the miniature blue whales were just as foreign as the sheep, the puppies, and the cardinal birds. It was only the herrings to which she could point and name.


    ¡°Something¡¯s gone horribly wrong,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°You think?¡±


    Nearly jumping out of her skin, the maid spun around and found a familiar raccoon.


    ¡°Panda? Is that you?¡±


    ¡°You guessed it.¡± He yawned and scratched his butt before he continued. ¡°I saw what happened. I¡¯m more or less here to help.¡±


    ¡°Would you mind explaining?¡± asked the maid.


    Panda crossed his arms and tapped his foot against the ice. ¡°Normally, I¡¯d say that I¡¯d tell you if you forked over some gold, but I guess this isn¡¯t the time for that,¡± he said. ¡°Long story short, they messed with your gate and everyone got thrown in all different directions. You¡¯re literally all over the mountains,¡± he said, with a laugh. ¡°Oh yeah, and there were a couple other shenanigans too, since you all ended up in stasis.¡±


    ¡°Stasis!? How long has it been?¡±


    ¡°About two days,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re the second to wake. The others shouldn¡¯t be too long now, but you never really know with these things.¡±


    ¡°Two days!?¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± said Panda. ¡°Oh, and did I mention that they¡¯re tracking you guys down? They¡¯re basically planning to hunt you.¡±


    Chloe opened her eyes wide. ¡°Ciel!¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be too worried about her,¡± said Panda. ¡°She¡¯s a little further away, so she¡¯s in less danger than most of the others. Krail isn¡¯t too far from here, so your most profitable course of action is probably going to be to grab him.¡±


    ¡°Where is Arciel? Is she safe?¡±


    ¡°Oh boy¡­¡± Panda sighed.


    ¡°Well? Tell me!¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Panda. ¡°She¡¯s fine, for now at least.¡±


    ¡°Take me to her.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, so about that.¡± The raccoon scratched the back of his head. ¡°You¡¯ve kinda ended up a little deep in the mountains. Even at top speed, it¡¯ll probably take you the better part of a month to reach her.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°Oh, and did I mention that you¡¯re basically gonna have to kill your way there?¡± he said. ¡°Some of the areas in between are ruled by super powerful monsters that¡¯ve survived these goddamned mountains for god knows how long. You¡¯re probably gonna want some company, and like I said, Krail¡¯s basically a stone¡¯s toss away.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t leave Ciel when she might be in danger.¡±


    ¡°Holy shit, you do not listen,¡± said Panda. ¡°Alright, you know what? Fine, whatever. You do you.¡± The ring-tailed rat shook his head. ¡°Either way, first thing¡¯s first, you¡¯re gonna have to tread carefully if you want to survive the morning frenzy.¡±


    Chloe nodded. ¡°Show me the way.¡±


    A smirk made its way across Panda¡¯s lips, a sadistic, twisted grin befitting exactly none of the circumstances at hand.


    ¡°Gladly.¡±


    ___


    ¡°God. My head¡­¡± Krail slowly pushed himself off the ground and winced as he leaned against the tree to his six.


    When he opened his eyes, he found his vision blurry. But by directing his focus to his magic circuits, and flushing the foreign matter therein, he was able to regain most of his visual functions.


    The first thing he did was scan the environment. Looking up, down, and around, he concluded that he was by himself and roughly halfway up a mountain. It looked no different from any of the others in its vicinity. And yet, it was precisely that regularity which took his breath away. He had heard what the mountains were supposed to look like at night. He had long drawn the scene in his mind and set up his expectations. Still, he was completely entranced.


    His awe lasted for all of thirty seconds before he shook his head and directed his gaze upon the local fauna. The fluffy sheep and chattering dolphins appeared friendly at a glance. Their bodies were admittedly a little distorted, but it was in a way that bolstered their appeal. They were so round they may as well have been spheres with faces, tails, and limbs protruding. And yet, the moment he saw them, he felt nothing but horror. The magic innate to his eyes had affirmed that even the weakest was level 3000.


    ¡°Shit.¡±


    ¡°Shit indeed.¡± The voice, which came from above him, was followed by a cackle.


    Krail was fairly certain that there had been nothing there when he first checked, but looking up again, he found Panda sitting on a branch with a half-eaten apple in hand.


    ¡°Panda.¡±


    ¡°In the flesh.¡±


    ¡°Somehow, I doubt the truth behind that statement,¡± said Krail.


    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t blame you. You don¡¯t even know my real name,¡± said Panda, with another laugh.


    ¡°Maybe not, but I¡¯ve lived more than long enough to tell the difference between someone who means harm and someone who intends to help,¡± he said.


    ¡°Got me there,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m happy to lend you a hand. All it¡¯ll cost is your life savings.¡±


    Krail laughed. ¡°How are the others?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re fine, for the most part,¡± said Panda. ¡°You¡¯re third to wake, it seems. Two of you idiots are running around the mountains already, and the other three are still in stasis, thanks to the goddess of the frozen wilds.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    The elf stroked his lonely beardless chin. ¡°Right¡­ And the real reason?¡±


    ¡°Oh, goddammit. Elves,¡± grumbled Panda. ¡°Whatever. You should probably get going. The sun¡¯s about to come up.¡±


    ¡°Good point,¡± said Krail. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to be caught in the middle of all this.¡±


    ¡°Not unless you want to shit the bed,¡± said Panda.


    ¡°Right. You know, this reminds me of the time my old buddies and I got lost in a cave. To be more accurate, it was technically a dungeon, but the entire thing was made of a system of massive, deadly caves. It must have been about thirty years ago now. We were still a little green back then, wet behind the ears if you will¡­¡±


    ¡°I swear, if he doesn¡¯t shut up, I¡¯m leaving him to die.¡± Grumbling under his breath, Panda leapt off his branch and led the elf away.


    ___


    Jules coughed into his hand as he slowly stirred in his shell. The clam was feeling rather nauseous. The whole experience he had with the portal was subpar to say the least, and his head was still spinning from the transition. Had Arciel not demonstrated her mastery of Claire¡¯s magic when they first warped a few days prior, he would have put the blame on her.


    ¡°He¡¯s not awake.¡± A familiar voice came from just outside his shelter.


    ¡°He should be,¡± said another. ¡°He¡¯d still be in stasis if he wasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Maybe he¡¯s dead.¡±


    ¡°Nah. His shell¡¯d be open if he was dead.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Really?¡±


    ¡°How the hell don¡¯t you know that?¡± asked the second speaker. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be a pirate? I kinda doubt you¡¯d be staying in the green if you don¡¯t even know how clams work.¡±


    ¡°Clams are uncommon. Most aren¡¯t smart enough to talk. And they aren¡¯t very tasty either. Too sandy.¡±


    ¡°Right. Well, either way, he¡¯s definitely up. He¡¯ll probably respond if you give him a good kick.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±


    Suddenly, he felt his shell violently jostled¡ªa sensation that did not at all help with his churning stomach.


    ¡°What the fuck!?¡± Jules threw his lid open, hurling profanities and vomit from his lips in tandem.


    ¡°Ew,¡± said Lana.


    ¡°Ew indeed,¡± echoed Panda.


    ¡°Shut the hell up. It was your goddamn fault!¡± shouted the clam. ¡°I was trying to fucking zone you idiots out ¡®cause my fucking head was spinning like a goddamn motherfucking top!¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± said Lana. ¡°Oops.¡±


    ¡°Oops my fucking ass,¡± grumbled the clam, as he wiped his lips and steadied himself on the edge of his shell. ¡°So? Care to fucking explain?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s my line,¡± said Lana. ¡°How did you sleep so long?¡±


    ¡°I dunno, you ask me,¡± said the clam. ¡°How long is so long anyway?¡±


    ¡°About six days,¡± said Panda.


    ¡°Excuse me, what the fuck?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I dunno,¡± said Panda. ¡°Lana woke up half a week ago, and she spent the whole time tracking you down. Just about everyone else is already awake.¡±


    ¡°But scattered,¡± added Lana.


    ¡°The fuck is that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°It means what it sounds like. You guys got split up,¡± said Panda. ¡°The enemy¡¯s fifth messed with your portal spell and basically sent you all over the mountains.¡±


    ¡°That¡­ doesn¡¯t sound good,¡± said Jules. Still gripping his shell, he took a moment to survey their surroundings. It was still the middle of the night, and surely enough, the mountains had become every bit as strange as Allegra¡¯s encyclopedia had described.


    The creatures running around the mountains, such as the land-nautili and the eight legged, upside-down squirrels were almost adorable, but he didn¡¯t keep his eyes on them for long. He soon returned his gaze to Lana, who frankly looked much worse for wear. She had traded her armour for a series of damaged pelts, and her axe was chipped and cracked. The myrian herself was clearly not at her best. Her fur was messy and covered in large, bloody clots and her eyes were heavy with exhaustion.


    ¡°If you¡¯re wondering about her, she¡¯s pretty much been fighting since she woke up,¡± said Panda, with a chuckle. ¡°If I had to guess, she¡¯s probably over level 900. Almost died three times doing it though.¡±


    ¡°Almost. But I¡¯m alive.¡±


    ¡°Only because I saved your ass.¡±


    ¡°Just once.¡±


    Jules sighed. ¡°Lemme guess. Now we¡¯re gonna have to brave this insanity together?¡±


    ¡°You betcha,¡± said Panda.


    The clam sighed. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s get on with it then.¡± He rinsed off his body with a splash of magic and then evaporated the fluid with a burst of flame.


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit,¡± said Panda, with a grin. ¡°Oh, by the way¡­¡±


    ¡°What is it now?¡±


    Panda twisted his lips into a grin. ¡°The lord of this mountain is level 5000. And it¡¯s not letting you leave until you kick its ass.¡±


    ¡°Motherfucker¡­¡± Jules groaned. ¡°This is a fucking setup, isn¡¯t it? Bet you had this whole ass script running for days.¡±


    ¡°Nah. If I was involved, things would be much worse,¡± said Panda, with a smirk. ¡°You¡¯re lucky to be getting off so easily.¡±


    ¡°Of fucking course we are,¡± grumbled the mage.


    ¡°Less complaining. More walking,¡± said Lana.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, quit your bitching.¡±


    With only a few hours until morning, Jules, Lana, and Panda set off into the mountain. If they were to defeat its lord and repel the incoming hunters, they would need to bolster their strength.


    ___


    Allegra¡¯s eyes shot open as soon as her consciousness returned. Immediately banishing her drowsiness to the void, she brandished her wand and got to her feet. She didn¡¯t know how long she was out, but at the very least, it was long enough for her heater to have been extinguished.


    With her body already bursting into a mess of shivers, she immediately crafted a spell that wrapped her frame in a layer of warm air. It wasn¡¯t perfect; she could still feel the freezing cold against the soles of her feet, but at the very least, it wasn¡¯t bad enough to deprive her of her function.


    ¡°What the hell was that?¡± she muttered. ¡°How did they manage to interfere? I was watching. Carefully. Everything should have been fine. Why are we even alive? If they were good enough to knock us all out, they should have been able to kill us easily.¡±


    ¡°Holy shit, calm down.¡±


    Turning around, the cottontail found a white moose sitting on a rock with his arms crossed and his face twisted into a grin.


    ¡°Constantius.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± he said, with a wave.


    ¡°You knew this would happen.¡±


    ¡°More or less.¡±


    ¡°You should¡¯ve told me.¡±


    ¡°And I did,¡± he said, with a laugh. ¡°I told you that you¡¯d have a bad run in, and that everything¡¯d be fine as long as you played your cards right.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t give me any details.¡±


    ¡°You make it sound like I had a reason to.¡±


    The Grand Magus winced.


    ¡°Oh, speaking of details, I¡¯ve told literally everyone else already, but you guys got scattered all across the mountains, and you were all thrown into stasis, the more mana you had, the longer..¡±


    ¡°And how long was I frozen?¡±


    ¡°About two weeks,¡± he said.


    ¡°Two weeks!? You¡¯re kidding.¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± he said. ¡°Wish I was.¡±


    ¡°How are the others?¡±


    ¡°Oh, they¡¯re fine. I wouldn¡¯t be so worried,¡± he said. ¡°I did the same thing I did back in the day, and set them up with silver spoons. It¡¯s all profit from here.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°Honestly?¡± The moose scratched his jet-black antlers. ¡°You should be more worried about yourself. The sun¡¯s rising in five minutes.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. I¡¯ll just kill my way out.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, not happening,¡± he said with a grin. ¡°You¡¯re way out west, in phillisphine territory, and I¡¯ve already set up one of my familiars to lure over the horde as soon as dawn breaks.¡±


    Allegra furrowed her brow. ¡°Why the hell would you do that!?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s time, Allegra.¡± The moose did away with his grin and gave her a serious look. ¡°The western alliance is going to have somewhere between five and fifty aspects by the time they attack next year. That little brother of mine is tough, but Ferdinand¡¯s dead and Cadria needs more than two aspects. You will have to be our third.¡±


    Allegra pursed her lips.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take care of the others,¡± said Constnatius. ¡°They¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡±


    ¡°No buts. War is coming, Allegra. I need you to be strong.¡±


    The rabbit bit her lips and tightened her grip on her weapon.


    ¡°I understand.¡±


    And then, after sending a pulse of mana through the world around her, she turned to face the corpse that would soon become her foe.


    ___


    Claire flapped her wings and rose into the sky as she turned her eyes on the morning sun. It had only been about ten minutes since Rikael poked her head over the edge of the world.


    And yet, the Langgbjerns failed to stir with life.


    A quick glance at the lyrkress was enough to confirm the reason.


    Her body, still a little bruised and battered, was covered in blood and guts.


    Chunks of meat from all manner of creatures coated her draconic true form, with many of the pieces still warm and pulsing with life.


    The sun had only just risen.


    But everything in her vicinity was dead.


    The aerial predators had their spines torn from their throats.


    The ground predators had their bodies run through.


    And the prey species had been utterly consigned to oblivion, shredded to bits in the blink of an eye.


    There were still plenty of foes to chase a little further out from her location. But having pushed her circuits to their limits by sacrificing her vestigial lungs, she was far too tired to chase them down.


    She had only unleashed a single breath¡ªa single well-timed breath that emerged from her lips with the rising sun. But it was enough to kill almost everything in a five kilometer radius. The few that survived, she finished in close quarters. Their bodies half-eaten by her racial ability, they made for easy prey.


    It helped that she wasn¡¯t quite deep enough just yet. Having distracted herself with all manner of dungeons, she had only traversed nine of the however many mountains there were in the northern range.


    The monsters were only a tier or two up from the vlasches that roamed the outermost reaches.


    The overflow still wasn¡¯t strong enough, not even close to the dungeon spawn that she had struggled to conquer. She needed to go deeper. The heart of the northern land was still a ways away.

 Chapter 432 - Reign of the Crowned

    Chapter 432 - Reign of the Crowned


    Claire didn¡¯t stay airborne for long. She hovered in the sky for five, maybe ten minutes before returning to the snowscape below. In the first place, it was only to go through the motions of her morning flight that she had risen into the air.


    At some point or other, Sylvia had appeared in her mane. In her tiniest form¡ªthe lazy fairy couldn¡¯t be bothered to change back so early in the morning¡ªshe had snuggled straight into the makeshift bed and gone right back to sleep. It was a wonder why she had even bothered. Claire was covered from head to toe in splotches of blood.


    Though she didn¡¯t dare voice the thought, Claire really did appreciate the gesture. The fox¡¯s presence was warm, gentle, and calming. Without it, she likely would have rushed down another mob despite her need for rest. The one breath she breathed had totally shot her circuits and the ottwatch praetorians¡ªthe sword wielding flamingos that preyed upon the vlasches¡ªwere too risky to fight without a few cards in reserve.


    She mowed down any strays in her path as she made her way up the mountain. There weren¡¯t too many, just a few herrings and bears scampering to escape the hysteria.


    The true prey species were the only ones that ran, and even some of them tried to stand their ground. Their more predatory cousins cared little for their relative place on the food chain. Every monster attacked almost everything else, with some individuals making exceptions for members of their species. They charged with reckless abandon, seeking any opportunity they could to bite at the hands that bound them.


    And sometimes, they proved successful.


    She noticed, with some careful observation, that not all of the variants were born in their altered forms. That was certainly the case for some of them, like the mutated, seven-armed herrings and the bears with their elements haphazardly swapped. But the vlasches, at the very least, had to earn their evolution. It was only by murdering the flamingos and consuming their swords that they gained their metal forms, and it was only by hunting the clouds that they could learn to channel thunder. But as far as she could tell, that was the extent of their change.


    They didn¡¯t seem to grow much stronger regardless of what else they ate, though that seemed to be more a result of their inability to consume anything else worthwhile.


    She was almost tempted to catch one and run a few experiments, but shaking her head, she quickly dismissed the idea. She didn¡¯t have the time to waste.


    Despite her temporal concerns, she didn¡¯t pick up the pace until the goddess healed her. Only then, when Aurora¡¯s voice rang throughout the mountains, did she snake her way up into the sky and bolt towards the north.


    She was certainly tempted by the many dungeons scattered throughout the mountains¡ªthe monsters that leaked from within signalled not only their positions but also their relative power levels¡ªbut Claire ignored them. It was too rare of an opportunity to pass up. Only in the hour after the frenzy was it safe to ramp up her speed and travel across the mountains without being dive-bombed by the million things that lived up above. The few times she had tried, outside of the window, she had found herself assaulted by fish of prey she could only escape by way of teleportation.


    Of course, she could have easily circumvented the entire problem by ripping open a few portals and skipping from mountain to mountain. She would only benefit from jumping into higher level mosh pits and facing tougher foes. Still, the thought of skipping ahead filled her with reluctance. She wanted to experience the Langgbjerns, to really experience the Langgbjerns.


    She had never heard of any higher-level locations. For all she knew, it would be her last time exploring and progressing in tandem.


    And perhaps that was why it worried her. She couldn¡¯t help but worry that seeing the world would lose its appeal¡ªthe very same appeal that had kept her mood at an all-time high throughout her stay in the mountains¡ªand that she would soon be denying herself a rare source of fun.


    Claire continued to lose herself in thought until she suddenly felt a pair of eyes. The accompanying gaze sent a shiver up her spine. It had a certain ferocity, the sort of hunger that only her wildest countrymen could ever bring to light.


    Turning to face it, she found a lone flamingo standing atop a tree. Unlike most of the others, who marched from their spawn points towards their designated zones, the suspicious pink bird stood stock still. The bizarre behaviour had already drawn her attention, but the flamingo only furthered her doubts by puffing up its chest and narrowing its eyes the moment she met its gaze.


    She half expected it to charge her when it started flapping its wings, but the speed of its approach was modest at best and it channeled none of the magic that its peers used in their attacks. Landing in front of her and pressing a wing to its chest, it stood up on one leg and honked three times aloud.


    When it saw its greeting met with nothing but a series of rapid blinks, the bird cleared its throat and repeated all of the actions. Somehow, its second introduction came off as even more cocky and prideful than its first. It made sure to separate and articulate each honk, presenting the noises as would a series of poetic stanzas.


    Dealing with the creature seemed like far more trouble than it ever could have been worth, but Claire¡¯s curiosity got the better of her. Though she had no dress to lift in her giant, qiligon form, she went through all the motions of a curtsy before returning a mreep for each of the bird¡¯s strange cries. It felt a little strange for her snoosey trills to be the exact same pitch as they were in her smallest size, but she refrained from pursuing the thought.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Upon returning her eyes to the flamingo, she found its expression changed. Though it had no lips or teeth, the bird almost seemed to smile in a way that reminded her of an older gentleman. And then, beckoning her to follow, it ramped up its speed and led her across the mountain.


    The path it followed was more horizontal than it was vertical. It only went up and downhill to avoid swaths of forest. It wasn¡¯t until the journey approached its end that they finally entered the woods. For the first little bit, Claire found little about the particular patch that seemed to stand out. But as they got deeper, closer to its core, she found the world distorted.


    It wasn¡¯t quite a dungeon. The system never attested to any such entrance, but everything changed in all the same ways. There was a point where the vectors almost seemed to distort, a point where the mountain suddenly flattened and the trees lost their evergreen hue. The stamping of feet that had accompanied the mountain-wide relocation was gone, replaced by the clanging of steel.


    The metallic noise was second only to the hisses, squawks, chirps, and honks that permeated the clearing before them. Within it, Claire found roughly a dozen pits¡ªarenas dug straight into the snow. The contestants that fought within them did so to a large crowd of cheering observers. They watched from the stands, the skies, and even the observation decks built straight into the holes. Though they wore few clothes and never spoke the common tongue, the fighters almost seemed civilized.


    Surprisingly few of the battles ended in fatalities. Though their species were rarely the same, they showed each other the ultimate respect, often greeting their opponents, helping each other to their feet, and shaking on a match well-fought.


    A closer look confirmed that there they shared at least a few things in common. All of the creatures present were lizards, birds, or bird-lizards, and all of them practiced the martial arts. There wasn¡¯t a single fighter present without some sort of bladed weapon. Though the relative prevalence of each type varied from one species to the next¡ªthe flamingos were partial to rapiers, most penguins favoured bladed staves, and the bipedal crocodiles clearly loved their daggers¡ªbut there was plenty of variance therein.


    Perhaps most eye-catching of all was the chicken in charge. It was not just his odd proportions nor his dense mana that stole her attention, but the golden crown he wore atop his comb. The ridiculously tiny coronet featured not only a set of glimmering studs, all across its length, but an exaggerated inscription of the rooster¡¯s ugly mug carved alongside a trio of stars.


    Dozens of other birds were lined up in front of him, squawking happily as they were given the opportunity to shake his feet with their own.


    The odd distraction lasted until the flamingo grabbed her attention with another honk. It drew its broadsword and pointed it towards one of the empty pits. The weapon was equal parts crude and ornate. The metal itself was largely unpolished, and the tiny breaks that ran along its edges came together to form a set of jagged teeth. Its pommel, however, was crusted with gemstones of all shapes and sizes, and the grips along its handle were accented with strands of gold. The blade itself was not a single metal either. The same golden garnishes were present along its spine, while the rest of its blade glowed with an emerald sheen.


    Seeing no reason to refuse the challenge, Claire proceeded towards the pit, but not before ripping a few loose strands of hair out of her mane and making a place for Sylvia to rest. She double-checked to make sure that the tiny fairy was still asleep and comfortable before descending into the snowy arena.


    She manipulated her body as she closed in on its center. With a bit of difficulty, she matched the flamingo¡¯s size without losing her qiligon shape¡ªit didn¡¯t seem right to change out of her most reptilian form with how everyone else appeared.


    Though it had only one leg to stand on, the pink bird was almost shockingly agile. It hopped around with practiced ease, not losing its balance for a moment as it navigated the uneven terrain. It didn¡¯t take long for a crowd to gather. Curious lizards and birds showed up in droves, their numbers only growing as she pulled Boris out of thin air and matched him to the shape of the flamingo¡¯s weapon.


    She knew it was a terrible idea. Even the normal ottwatch praetorians had given her a run for her money, and the one that she was facing was clearly some sort of variant. Though its outward appearance was identical, the bird was capable of ignoring the goddess¡¯ commands. To emulate the locals and restrict the use of her magic could only be described as an act of utter stupidity. And yet, she found it almost impossible to resist.


    Claire mimicked the flamingo¡¯s gesture¡ªa graceful bow perfect enough to hinge on unnatural¡ªbefore taking a few steps back and assuming a stance with her blade.


    Boris felt a little strange between her talons. Her arms weren¡¯t necessarily stubby, but they were far enough down her body that it felt a little awkward to hold him. It wasn¡¯t a complete surprise, but she didn¡¯t have enough time to think through her approach.


    Honking once more to signal the battle¡¯s beginning, the flamingo kicked off the ground with its one free leg and launched itself like a missile. Its weapon filled with power as it moved, a bright green glow pulsed out from its core, leaving a trail of light in its wake. The bird¡¯s speed spiked each time it flapped its wings. Mach three, mach seven, mach twelve. With each beat came a ridiculous burst of speed.


    Its first strike was a rapid thrust. Fueled by the might of its wings, it drove its blade straight towards her throat. Despite its incredible velocity, she deflected it with ease. She immediately shifted into a slash to counter the blow, but the flamingo ducked under her attack and retaliated with a vertical sweep.


    Again, it was fast, barely visible, but again, Claire caught the blade with Boris and forced the bird into a deadlock.


    A grin on its face, the flamingo honked aloud and leapt away, but Claire threw her blade before it could land. It moved in place to parry, but deploying her own wings and matching its backwards acceleration, she grabbed her sword out of the air and twisted its trajectory just before the moment of contact.


    The flamingo caught on and immediately tried to shift its guard, but a gentle prod of the tail saw its weapon displaced.


    The resulting wound was shallow, only a light scratch across the pink bird¡¯s chest.


    Claire almost wanted to smirk, but her opponent beat her to it. With a honking laugh, it lashed out with its foot and delivered a rapid flurry of stabs. But again, everything was parried.


    Though it was certainly a better fighter than its wilder, more obedient cousins, the flamingo had a clear weakness.


    It was far too honest.


    Its attacks were heavily telegraphed by the motion of its eyes. It never struck without looking at the place where it intended to attack, and even its feints were clear as day. Or at least that was what she thought until she found a foot lodged into her jaw.


    Neither the foot that it was using to pivot nor the one that held its sword, the limb was an extra one, something that it had kept hidden from the moment they had met.


    Its honesty had been a perfect ruse. And Claire had been thoroughly deceived.

 Chapter 433 - Reign of the Crowned II

    Chapter 433 - Reign of the Crowned II


    Claire twisted and turned her serpentine shape as the flamingo rained blows upon her. The sword, she evaded with ease. Its patterns remained clearly telegraphed by the pink bird¡¯s eyes.


    The kicks, however, presented a world of frustration. She could still tell where the strikes were ultimately aimed, but it was almost impossible to determine the method of their delivery. The flamingo attacked from the most peculiar angles. Sometimes, the foot would come from in front of her, only to drop and rise at the very last moment. Other times, it would swing in from the right before somehow appearing on the left. And on the odd occasion, it would trace the obvious path without the slightest hint of deviation.


    The shifts were so sudden that they put even her vectors to shame. It was like it could freely alter its body''s position, even though she knew that to be false. If that were the case, it would have easily found her with its blade, or at the very least, not suffered the blow she had left across its chest.


    Well aware that its sword was putting in no work, the flamingo inched closer and neutered both their blades. Claire stepped back, but the bird flapped its wings and bridged the gap whenever she tried to escape. It continued to pressure her, forcing her to retreat until she found her back against the arena¡¯s wall.


    Giving up on her sword, she retaliated with her tail, her claws, her teeth, and her hooves, but nothing seemed to land. She wasn¡¯t accustomed to her newest shape nor comfortable with its range. For a moment, she considered changing it, but she wasn¡¯t shameless enough to suddenly change the terms when the flamingo was refusing to use its magic. She focused on observing and redirecting the pink bird¡¯s blows. But while she didn¡¯t do poorly, the fact remained that she had her back against the wall. It didn¡¯t take long for one of the attacks to find its mark and knock her sword from her hands.


    The bird lowered its weapon, took a step back, and bowed. Its eyes glowed with satisfaction when she emulated the mannerism, leading it to honk excitedly while the peanut gallery erupted into noise. The lyrkress herself was annoyed. She had certainly held back, but she couldn¡¯t help but feel as if the flamingo was far more heavily restricted. Outside of the rooster king¡¯s realm, they relied heavily on enchanting their blades and brute forcing their problems with an inordinate amount of mana.


    ¡°Battle. Curious.¡±


    Claire¡¯s ears twitched as they caught a peculiar voice. It wasn¡¯t by any means pleasant. The words sounded almost like they were built from a cacophony of squawks, like a flock of crows had worked together to make a set of almost intelligible sounds.


    Turning towards its source, she found the misshapen rooster, standing directly above the pit with its eyes shifting between the fighters. After a brief delay, it settled first on the sword-wielding flamingo.


    ¡°Honkarg. Body. Strong. Technique. Poor. Footwork. Bad.¡±


    The flamingo bowed its head and honked apologetically, leading the chicken to direct its gaze at Claire.


    ¡°Stranger. Reflexes. Middling. Swordplay. Awful. Childlike.¡± It said, before slowly blinking and giving her a closer look. ¡°You. Who?¡±


    Claire put on her best smile and performed a picture-perfect curtsy.


    ¡°Claire Augustus, caldriess,¡± she said.


    ¡°Augustus?¡± The chicken paused. ¡°Appearance. Off. Ability. Lacking. But. Mana. Right.¡±


    It took a fair bit of effort, but Claire maintained her outward calm and continued to smile. ¡°Would this appearance be more apt then?¡± She assumed her lyrkrian form whilst warping the accessories over her ears to don a ballroom dress.


    The chicken cocked its head again, clucking once or twice aloud before it finally nodded. ¡°Yes. Apt. You. Augustus.¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± she affirmed. ¡°How might you know my father, Exalted One?¡±


    The rooster paused briefly to peck at the snow beneath his feet. ¡°Long. Ago. Him. Here. Training,¡± it said. ¡°Me. Master. Him. Apprentice.¡±


    Claire blinked. She had known that her father had explored the Langgbjerns. His party was responsible for much of its charting, but never once had she heard that he was a giant chicken¡¯s disciple, though she could certainly see why he might have avoided telling the tale.


    ¡°Shall I refer to you as Grandmaster then?¡± she asked.


    The chicken closed its eyes. ¡°No. Teach. You. Weakling. Return. Stronger. Refine. Technique.¡±


    Many of the bird¡¯s disciples laughed at the declaration, with her previous opponent among the few to refrain. The flamingo threw a wing over her shoulders and shook its head. Its honks were apologetic, perhaps even filled with empathy for one of its kind. But while it clearly had the best of intentions, Claire was only annoyed.


    She frowned for a second before brushing it off, pulling Boris into her hands, and rushing down the giant chicken. He didn¡¯t seem the slightest bit alarmed. He simply laughed as he lowered his hips. A third talon burst from his side as he met her eyes, a katar with a golden handle already within its grasp.


    Only then did she finally connect the dots. At the end of the day, a katar was just a shorter, lighter shieldlance with a shoddier guard.


    ¡°Stubborn. Foolish. Truly. Augustus,¡± laughed the rooster.


    Claire began with a simple, overhead swing. She knew that it would react to her speed, and she knew that its techniques would be sound. But that was also precisely why she knew it would opt for the simplest counter.


    It simply swung its blade to match her own, a perfect textbook parry that would allow it to repel the incoming weapon.


    But Claire worked her magic in outright refusal. She began by pulling on the rooster¡¯s hand and shifting its katar¡¯s position. The rooster immediately compensated for the change, but it was to no avail. Claire¡¯s sword suddenly rose a meter with no rhyme or reason and made a ninety degree turn without losing a hint of speed.


    Somehow, the rooster reacted in time to that as well. It managed to bring their weapons together and force a parry, but Claire transferred all of Boris¡¯ momentum on contact and knocked the katar out of his path.


    Accelerating with another vector, she transitioned the swing straight into a thrust aimed for the rooster¡¯s throat.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    But again, their weapons met. The rooster recovered from its broken stance in the blink of an eye and stuck his blade in her path. It would have been a perfect block had Boris not transformed. His edge split right down the middle, becoming a pair of prongs that shot for the chicken¡¯s face.


    Had the rooster not driven his foot into the floor and immediately shoved her away, he surely would have found the lizard buried in the base of his neck.


    The oversized chicken laughed as he lowered his weapon.


    ¡°Better,¡± he said. ¡°Prowess. Middling. Technique. Unpolished. Yet. Acceptable.¡± He retracted his arm back into his body. ¡°Stay. Allowed. Honkarg. Instruct.¡±


    The flamingo saluted with his foot while the chicken hopped back out of the ring.


    ¡°Practice. Week. Then. Progress. Revisit.¡± He threw back his head and laughed. It had been a long time since he last taught an outsider. He would put her on the strictest regimen. If she truly was of his lineage, then it was the only choice he was willing to entertain.


    ___


    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s better if we don¡¯t give chase?¡± Agrippina voiced the question as she watched the portal close. The reindeer had a few drops of sweat dripping from her brow, but she was otherwise unbothered. Her weapon was the only part of her that had even a trace of blood, and all of it belonged to her opponent. ¡°I could¡¯ve killed the warrior right then if I wanted.¡±


    ¡°Awroo,¡± agreed Roumalou. He batted away the corpses that surrounded him with a light swipe of the paw and lazily sank into the snow. All of his effort had clearly been feigned.


    Sophia was in much the same boat. Shaking the blood off of her fists, she walked over with her expression completely devoid of concern.


    ¡°I swear to Kael¡¯ahruus, Agrippina, I¡¯ve explained it to you three times,¡± said Lucius. ¡°Prey tastes best when it¡¯s been fattened up.¡±


    ¡°You keep saying that, but that doesn¡¯t mean I know what it means,¡± said the reindeer. ¡°Letting them go is just going to cause more trouble down the line.¡±


    ¡°Negative,¡± said Sophia. ¡°Only one individual has exceeded reasonable projections for growth. All remaining units have fallen short.¡±


    ¡°I get that part, but I don¡¯t really understand why we¡¯re waiting for them to grow in the first place. We¡¯re better off just nipping them in the bud.¡±


    ¡°And I literally just explained,¡± said Lucius. ¡°We¡¯re fattening them up so they make for better trophies.¡±


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ Right.¡± Agrippina scratched the back of her head¡ªa response that elicited an explicit sigh from her thoraen mate.


    ¡°Alright, how about this,¡± he said. ¡°How do you think the princess will feel if we pick off her friends where she can see them clear as day?¡±


    ¡°She would probably be really sad,¡± said the reindeer.


    ¡°That too,¡± said Lucius. ¡°But more importantly, she¡¯d be pissed as hell.¡± Closing his eyes, he could already imagine the way her face would twist in anger.


    ¡°Sure, I guess, but I don¡¯t really see how that¡¯s any better from putting them in a cage, waiting for her to show up, and executing them then.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s about the setup,¡± explained the bee-ogre. ¡°She needs to feel like she has a chance.¡±


    Agrippina frowned. ¡°Errr, alright. I guess.¡±


    ¡°Suggestion,¡± said Sophia. ¡°Consider an individual capturing a fish loose at sea and note your impressions. Then, consider an individual capturing a fish placed within a tank. Evaluate the difference.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure there¡¯s much of a difference. The fish has to come from the sea at some point, right?¡±


    ¡°Affirmative. Your claim cannot be denied. However, it is worth considering the circumstance that provides for the better viewing experience.¡±


    ¡°Ohhhhh, I get it!¡± said Agrippina. ¡°Catching the fish that¡¯s inside the tank makes for a better show because rivers aren¡¯t really clear enough to see through. The tank lets you see the complexity of the fisherman¡¯s technique.¡±


    Sophia blinked. ¡°Understood. There is no purpose in further explanation.¡± The fake goat turned towards Lucius. ¡°I am requesting permission to lobotomize Agrippina to avoid the risk of further interaction.¡±


    The thorae said nothing, only offering a bit of a strained smile. But while he lost his motivation, Roumalou saw a chance to shine. The big orange cat shoved his paws into the snow. Manipulating it wasn¡¯t as easy as he would have liked, but with a bit of effort, he was able to make a structure that loosely resembled a birdcage.


    ¡°Arrrrooo!¡±


    He meowed in Agrippina¡¯s direction, but she never seemed to realise that he was trying to talk to her until he leapt in front of her and waved her down.


    ¡°Awrr. Awrrooo.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± she asked.


    Having finally gotten her attention, he pointed at the cage and crafted a pair of magical blobs. Despite his best efforts, they looked more like dollops of cream than rabbits, but it sufficed to prove his point either way; one blob sat inside the cage, while the other roamed its exterior. He pounced on the creations in turn, immediately destroying the one in the cage with a bite while intentionally missing the free blob with his first strike and catching it with a second. With that done, he proudly sat back down and smiled, declaring his victory with a satisfied mewl.


    Agrippina, however, only blinked a few times before scuttling her way to his master.


    ¡°Hey Lu?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°I think your lion might be a little stupid. He¡¯s eating blobs of magic shaped like pieces of poop.¡± The reindeer had at least tried to whisper, but she wasn¡¯t exactly subtle. Roumalou heard the declaration clear as day.


    Hanging his head, the striped, orange cat gave a sad ¡°Aroo,¡± and collapsed into a loaf in the snow.


    Olethra, who was watching over the interaction from the divine realm, broke into a fit of laughter. The outburst earned her a wave of stares, but she didn¡¯t care. She was already something of a popular attraction. Her sudden return had raised eyes all around and drawn gossip from all the worlds¡¯ corners.


    It wasn¡¯t everyday that an ancient deity suddenly came out of the woodwork, let alone one with a history as nonstandard as her own. It only stood to reason that the others would immediately begin speaking of the ancient events and asking the witnesses for their personal accounts. Such was another one of the reasons that the goddess had never returned to her post. She had dreaded the thought of hearing all the gossip and dealing with the aftermath of her proven stupidity.


    But as it stood, she didn¡¯t have much of a choice. She stood in a very public line, looking incredibly out of place among the other gods and celestials. In fact, she had occupied the position for the last several days, waiting in the endless queue for one of the few moments that Flitzegarde was free to discuss whatever with whoever was at her door.


    Considering that she was a literal god, one of the supposed most important individuals to exist within the heavens, one might have suspected that Olethra¡¯s queue time was well within the realm of the ordinary, but that couldn¡¯t have been further from the truth. The world couldn¡¯t have possibly retained its function if Flitzegarde took days to process the average request.


    Nay, Olethra was stuck in the unfortunate but accurate low priority queue. Most of the others waiting in line were on silly, pointless errands. They looked to invite the goddess to parties, balls, and feasts, divine events that she could afford to shirk in favour of attending to her duties. Either that, or they hoped to petition the goddess to resolve their petty disputes. Either way, they were unimportant inquiries with little to no effect on the world¡¯s well-being.


    To that end, most of the others in line were servants¡ªcelestials either new to service or otherwise on the bottom of the social ladder. Even then, most were hard at work, plugging away at some console or other as they manipulated the system and governed the concepts they ruled.


    Olethra was one of the few who did nothing as she waited. She was more than happy to procrastinate for as long as she was allowed.


    After all, returning to work was one of the cards that she still had up her sleeve.


    And to convince the goddess of order to take her side, she knew that she would likely need to play it.

 Chapter 434 - Reign of the Crowned III

    Chapter 434 - Reign of the Crowned III


    Her legs swinging back and forth, Sylvia fought back the urge to yawn as she watched over Claire¡¯s training¡ªthe snoose had decided to take some time to learn under the avian grandmaster. She was in the midst of a spar, fighting against a penguin with a bladed shovel. The clanging was so rhythmic that it almost put the fairy to sleep, though the fault laid as much with her seat as it did the back and forth. Even in the middle of winter, Starrgort¡¯s internal operations kept his body just warm enough to serve as a heated bed. And for the fairy at least, his size was right on the money.


    She continued to totter for about ten minutes, but she forced herself to stay awake until Claire was done with practice. Only then did she rise from her mount and float her way over to the snakemoose¡¯s side.


    ¡°That was a pretty close one.¡± Sylvia healed the two fighters as she spoke. Both were wounded, but Claire was a little better off. She¡¯d emerged victorious with only a few holes poked between her ribs, while the penguin was stuck with a fist-sized cavity carved through its guts. The lyrkress¡¯ recent improvements were made by leaps and bounds. Just last week, the penguin had handedly defeated her. ¡°I almost didn¡¯t think you were actually gonna win.¡±


    ¡°I was confident,¡± said Claire.


    The penguin was a little less convinced. It crossed its arms, tapped a foot against the ground, and brayed in annoyance while Claire stuck out her tongue.


    Sylvia couldn¡¯t help but giggle. It was strange to think that Claire had developed a number of friendly rivalries when her head was usually filled with murder, and it was even stranger to see how well the whole scenario played out. There were a few misunderstandings and shuffled identities in the mix, but either way, the crowned rooster was more friendly than hostile. Finally. The perfect opportunity.


    ¡°So uhmmmm¡­¡± The tiny fairy fiddled with her tail, glancing nervously between her pet and the ground.


    ¡°What?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°How long are you planning to stay here?¡±


    ¡°A little longer,¡± said Claire. ¡°I¡¯ll need another week to earn the rooster¡¯s approval. Why?¡±


    ¡°A week sounds a little ambitious,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But it¡¯s ¡®cause I was thinking of maybe heading out for a little and getting a few levels myself.¡±


    Claire slowly tilted her head before lifting the fairy by the scruff. ¡°Who are you and what have you done to Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on. That¡¯s just rude!¡± huffed the furball. ¡°I wanna level sometimes too, you know!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve taken exactly none of the opportunities you were given.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not true! I technically leveled up once that one time I used my ultimate.¡±


    Clarie rolled her eyes. ¡°You didn¡¯t do that because you wanted experience.¡±


    ¡°I know, but like, I started spying on everyone while I was bored, and everyone seems really motivated. I¡¯m basically the only one sitting around doing nothing, other than Starrgort, but that¡¯s only ¡®cause you never use him.¡±


    ¡°And the real reason?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re catching up to me too fast, and it¡¯d be really weird if you actually ended up being stronger than me,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Does that matter?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Mhm! It matters a lot!¡± said the fox. ¡°If you get stronger than me then I¡¯d end up being your pet for real!¡±


    ¡°You already are my pet,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not! You have it backwards!¡±


    The usual banter continued until it was interrupted by a series of honks. A familiar flamingo stepped up to Claire and pointed at a group practicing in front of the rooster¡¯s throne.


    ¡°No, we¡¯re not all his pets,¡± said Claire. ¡°And I¡¯ll get back to training in a second.¡±


    Another honk.


    ¡°Uhmmm, I don¡¯t think pets and disciples are ¡®basically the same,¡¯¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Anyway it doesn¡¯t matter! I¡¯m going now.¡± She transformed back into a fox as she spoke. ¡°I¡¯ll come find you again in a few days, even if you end up heading out onto the mountain.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Claire pulled the furball in for a hug and gave her face a nuzzle. ¡°Have fun. Be safe.¡±


    The fox could feel her chest tightening as the familiar, comforting scent flooded her nostrils. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she found the urge to beg for more intimacy. There was probably nothing wrong with kissing her goodbye. She might have been able to play it off as a joke, even if it was refused or poorly received, but dismissing the thought, she pushed Claire away before her smell could further corrupt her mind.


    ¡°I will, don¡¯t worry!¡± Smiling cheerfully as she could, she leapt into the snow and bolted for the woods. She waited for the sounds that indicated the lyrkress¡¯ return to training before spinning around and watching as she descended into one of the pits. She almost didn¡¯t want to go. But with a gulp and a shake of the head, she turned around again and darted into the undergrowth.


    From there, it didn¡¯t take long for the chicken¡¯s training camp to vanish. A few seconds of sprinting through the trees, and she was outside the domain, placed atop a snowy mountain all by herself for the first time in forever.


    Well, almost.


    The isolation lasted for all of three seconds before she looked up the nearest slope and found one of their companions. The grey and black furball was waiting just outside the chicken¡¯s domain, his arms crossed, his feet tapping the snow, and his mouth curved into a bit of a grin.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he said. ¡°Took you long enough.¡±


    Sylvia blinked. ¡°Uhhh¡­ have you been expecting me or something?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, for the better part of a week,¡± he said. ¡°I knew you were desperate to get into her pants, but I didn¡¯t think it was that bad.¡±


    ¡°H-huh? W-what are you saying!? I¡¯m not desperate to get into her pants at all!¡±


    ¡°I might¡¯ve just believed you if you didn¡¯t scamper back to Llystletein to learn that one spell your grandfather mentioned the moment you woke up from that wet dream last week,¡± said Panda, with a snicker. ¡°God, my sides. Shit was hilarious enough to pay back my whole-ass investment. Free fucking theatre seats just for hanging around.¡±If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°W-wait a second! H-how the heck do you know any of that!?¡± cried the fox.


    ¡°I¡¯m not even the only one who knows,¡± said Panda. ¡°You do realise she caught you moaning her name in your sleep, right?¡±


    The fox turned so red that the change in her skin tone was visible through her fur. ¡°W-w-wha!? T-there¡¯s no way that¡¯s true!¡±


    ¡°You can ask her, if you want. Doubt she cares too much, honestly. She¡¯s been pretending not to notice,¡± said Panda. ¡°Anyway, enough about that. I¡¯ve been meaning to tell you, whenever you finally decided to set out, that you¡¯re gonna need to be extra careful. You¡¯re basically the hunters¡¯ main target. No telling when they might change their minds, ditch the plan, and nab you early.¡±


    The raccoon looked to the fox for an answer, but Sylvia was too busy lying in the snow with her face in her paws and curled up into a ball of embarrassment. The bubble around her perfectly soundproofed her screams, preventing them from leaking out into the world.


    The bubble¡¯s edges distorted each time she screeched. Panda tried to invade the barrier, but he found, as he touched it, that it was far too well reinforced, perhaps even the product of some concept or other. He could only cross his arms, lean against a tree, and wait out the rest of the tantrum.


    All in all, it took roughly twenty minutes for it to pass. Sylvia was still red and sniffling by the time she emerged from her shell. Panda wanted, needed, to mess with her, but a single look cut his commentary short. As hilarious as it might have been, he could tell that she would retreat again the moment he pulled the trigger and there were more pressing matters at hand.


    ¡°So you know that group that attacked the others?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± she asked, with a sniffle. ¡°What about them?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ve been trying to find a good way to get at you,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯ve got countermeasures for most of your abilities. You¡¯d best keep on your toes and make escape plans.¡±


    ¡°Wait, really?¡± She blinked. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure they don¡¯t even know most of my abilities.¡±


    ¡°I know it¡¯s hard to believe, but they¡¯ve basically got enough of their shit together to make a run for the bank,¡± he said. ¡°One of theirs is so crazy good with vectors that your ultimate is probably off the table. I doubt you¡¯ll be able to summon your vessels or even access the shit you¡¯ve got in your tail.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn, that sounds pretty bad,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But I think I¡¯ll probably be fine. Where are they right now?¡±


    ¡°Not too close, not too far.¡± Panda pointed a paw towards the west. ¡°Maybe about a dozen-odd mountains that way? They¡¯re beefing themselves up near Lana and the boys.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that like, really bad? I should probably go help them,¡± muttered the fox.


    ¡°Nah, you¡¯re fine. Just go level,¡± said Panda. ¡°I got ¡®em covered.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure? I don¡¯t really mind anyway.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve gotten paid for about a year¡¯s worth of work, so I¡¯m gonna do a year¡¯s worth of work,¡± he said. ¡°Relax.¡±


    Sylvia spent a few seconds evaluating the raccoon before she finally nodded. ¡°Mmk.¡±


    She started walking off, but the other furball grabbed her by the tail before she could get too far. ¡°Hold on. Don¡¯t go running off just yet.¡±


    ¡°What now?¡±


    ¡°Running around and randomly murdering wildlife isn¡¯t gonna amount to much of a payday. I¡¯ll show you to a good spot.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°You able to track me if I vanish?¡±


    ¡°I think so.¡±


    ¡°Good. Follow me.¡±


    A smile crossing his lips again, the raccoon suddenly disappeared. It wasn¡¯t like he had thrown together a set of vectors to connect two points in space time, nor like he had overridden his absolute position. The raccoon simply ceased to exist, only to appear somewhere else after a half-second delay, as if his body was erased and reconstructed at another location.


    Still, Sylvia was able to track him. Quickly pinching the two places in spacetime together, she walked through the resulting portal and joined him in front of a lonely cliff.


    Opposite the fatal drop was a massive, sparkling cave. Its mouth was shaped almost like a qiligon¡¯s, only deadlier and almost a little more canine. Stepping into the cavern, she followed the raccoon down a flight of stairs and through a portcullis made of rusted iron. Checking the new notification in her log right then, she confirmed that she had entered a dungeon¡ªa dungeon that went by Builledracht¡¯s Maw.


    Its entrance didn¡¯t look that different from the exterior, but the walls began melting into a strange, oozing liquid as she got further into the cave. There were still a few lights, bright green flames that danced aimlessly throughout the darkness, but they offered little in the way of illumination.


    It didn¡¯t seem too wise to touch the dark liquid¡ªSylvia could feel a sort of strange power coursing through it¡ªbut she decided to walk through it after noting that Panda was doing the same.


    The ankle-deep goop was uncomfortably viscous. It clung to her fur when she lifted her paws, only to suddenly snap back and release her once she got too far. The slime never clung to her for long, but it left her feeling filthy regardless. It didn¡¯t help that its rancid, half-rotten scent was prominent enough to blind her nostrils. She hated it. She wanted to be enveloped in Claire¡¯s scent instead, and it was doing away with the few bits that¡¯d rubbed off. To make matters worse, the goop sapped and weakened her magic. It wasn¡¯t quite powerful enough to overcome the effects of her regeneration. In fact, it wasn¡¯t even close. Stealing only fifty thousand points a second, it consumed even less than the abilities she always kept active.


    The problem was how. Its peculiar method of draining her mana wasn¡¯t like Claire¡¯s, which simply wrenched the raw energy away. It almost felt more natural, like it was draining her mana the same way a spell would. But because she hadn¡¯t initiated or otherwise sanctioned the action, it came as a bit of a surprise, like an elderly person suddenly finding their pants soaked following a moment of felicitation.


    ¡°This is one of the toughest dungeons you¡¯ll find around here,¡± said Panda. ¡°Hell, for pure mages like you, it might even be the worst of them all.¡±


    ¡°Is it?¡± Sylvia took a moment to scan her surroundings and sniff at the air. ¡°It doesn¡¯t really seem that bad.¡±


    The subspace itself didn¡¯t seem to be all too impressive. The mana was dense, but not so dense that it concerned her, and while the dead, serpentine creatures splattered all over the floors, walls, and ceilings, appeared to have tough, magic-resistant hides, they didn¡¯t strike her as being particularly impressive.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± said Panda, with a chuckle.


    His reaction was suspicious enough that Sylvia raised her ears and confirmed again that Allegra was responsible for much of the carnage. It was already fairly obvious from the residual mana, but the rabbit¡¯s chanting made for even easier identification. All of the crashing and banging revealed that she was still in combat, though the site of it was a ways away.


    The sounds grew clearer as Sylvia progressed through the cave. Eventually, after wading through far too much goop for comfort, she found the rabbit in the middle of fighting the floor¡¯s boss.


    Her opponent was a rat-snake¡ªnot a snake with a taste for rats, but a rat shaped like a snake. It wasn¡¯t particularly large. Both its width and height sat right around a meter, but its length must have been at least fifty times that. Its body was covered in a thick layer of pale cream fur, with white and brown spots all over. It didn¡¯t seem to have any legs, but it did have a few pairs of clawed wings running along the side of its body.


    The limbs in question were kept closed when the snake dashed around the cavern, but it opened them up to create a series of small parachutes whenever it leapt off the walls.


    It was a cute, fuzzy, and delicious-looking creature, prey by all means, and yet, Allegra was struggling.


    The beast was outright immune to her magic. It wasn¡¯t like the rabbit relied on brute force. She struck it with boulders and fired blasts of lightning straight into its mouth. She tried concentrating her magic into an incredibly dense arcane blast, she captured its face in a bubble in an attempt to drown it, and at one point, she even turned the room into a vacuum and collapsed its lungs entirely.


    But it was all ineffective.


    Even in the odd case that she did some sort of damage, such as the instance where she compressed a series of shockwaves into a tiny space and unleashed them all inside of the rat-snake¡¯s skull, the monster would rapidly regenerate by feasting on the mana that flooded their magic-rich surroundings.


    It almost seemed like there was no way for her to kill it.


    But when Sylvia stepped up to join, Panda stuck out his arm and kept her from the fray.


    ¡°Leave it,¡± he said. ¡°This kill¡¯s what¡¯s fueling her thousandth level. Let her spend her own cash and prove to the gods that she can roll high as hell.¡±

 Chapter 435 - Reign of the Crowned IV

    Chapter 435 - Reign of the Crowned IV


    None of the monstrous lineages that inhabited the Langgbjerns ranked within the norm, but few were quite as bizarre as the humanoid golems scattered throughout the mountains. They shared one face between all of their members, a distinctive, square-jawed visage with a thick, wild beard and a head as bald as an eagle¡¯s. No one knew precisely whose form it was they took, but they agreed on all of the specifics. Every single statue shared the exact same height, the exact same hair, and the exact same scars. They all had perfect six packs, bulging biceps, and prominent phalli.


    Still, despite their outward similarity, their strength spanned a wide range. The southernmost species sat in the mid 1500s, and considering that they needed only to eat the almost-true ice produced by the lower-leveled stropharia, one might have been inclined to suspect only paltry growth. Said suspicion, however, rang false.


    Ingesting the ice assured a full 500 levels. Some of the particularly compatible went even further and grew to the mid two thousands. And it was precisely with one such specimen that Chloe found herself engaged.


    Despite their tough exteriors¡ªthey took on all the properties of their new, icy material¡ªthe statues were far from close combatants. Using a bizarre combination of magic and physics, they specialized in flinging chunks of ice at their foes from afar. Though certainly curious, the unique means of attack secured the species¡¯ status as a predator. Their projectiles were launched with such force that their impacts far preceded the sounds that marked their sudden arrivals.


    Chloe, however, was largely unaffected. Her army might have suffered a fair bit of damage even from a single golem¡¯s assault, but she had long abandoned the legion on account of its speed.


    It just couldn¡¯t keep up. A rogue in all but name, the maid darted through the trees at a blistering speed, easily swerving out of the way of the statue¡¯s bullets. Having spent the past few weeks rushing through the mountains, she had hit and shattered the 850 wall. And since then, she had become the fastest member by far. With a top speed that was almost on par with Durham¡¯s, crossing the mountains seemed like a quick and simple task. But in reality, she could only maintain her terminal velocity for a fraction of a second. And even then, it would drain her legs and leave her immobile for at least a day. For long distance travel, she could only maintain about sixty kilometers per hour.


    Her almost pitiful average speed prevented her from escaping the ice-throwing statue hot on her tail. It was fortunate then that she had no need to escape.


    Her most powerful thrall dove from the sky, slammed its beak into the statue, and claimed the kill for its vampiric master. The beast in question was a griffon, and not a fledgling like the one that the party once fought. That much was clear from its size.


    Unlike the massive toddlers, the adults were rarely more than a meter long. They shed their unnecessary mass with age and became tiny bundles of pure muscle powerful enough to punch holes in hardened ice.


    It was only by chance that Chloe had happened upon the griffon¡¯s body. She caught it right as it was knocked off of the sky and thrown into the side of the mountain. From his lack of comment, she suspected that Panda might have had something to do with its arrival, but he made no claims, and she refrained from voicing the suspicion. Either way, it was a major contributor to her ability to traverse the mountains.


    She waited for her log to confirm that the statue was dead before calling the griffon back to her side, and pressing a finger against the cat-bird¡¯s forehead. The effect was immediate; by receiving her blood, the servant was able to repair its damaged beak and return to perfect condition. Being corpses, thralls no longer possessed the ability to restore their health and mana over time. Any damage they endured, including the microfractures that resulted from the stresses of one¡¯s continued existence would need to be actively repaired.


    The maid shivered as a gust of wind blew by. Quickly shoving her hand back into her uniform¡¯s pocket, she took a deep breath and broke into another sprint. She hated the sensation of the cold winter air completely flooding her lungs, but she didn¡¯t have much of a choice. The cloth mask she wore over her face wasn¡¯t enough to block it out, and there wasn¡¯t any time to make anything out of the local wildlife.


    She kicked off another tree and continued springing her way around the mountain. She wasn¡¯t going straight up, but a mix of up and around¡ªthe path that best followed the tracks Panda had left behind in the snow.


    All of her roadblocks came in the form of monsters, but even they were few and far between. The central regions were peculiar. The established rules that governed the rest of the mountains went ignored. The predators used the marches as opportunities to hunt and grow their power; most of the newly spawned were long dead by noon.


    The raccoon tracks came to an end after about an hour of lateral climbing. Panda himself was waiting at the end of the trail, his arms crossed and his face a smug grin.


    ¡°Down here,¡± he said. ¡°This next part will be a bit of a detour. We¡¯re gonna have to head downhill and skirt around the next three mountains.¡±


    ¡°Do we have to? That seems like a waste of time.¡±


    ¡°I mean, unless you want to die.¡± Panda pointed a paw at the area behind him. ¡°You see that treeline over there? That marks the start of jittern territory.¡±


    ¡°Is that supposed to be a big deal?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say I¡¯d be betting on the house,¡± said Panda.


    ¡°How many days would I lose?¡± asked Chloe.


    ¡°Are you really asking that? Do you need me to remind you what happened last time?¡± he said, with a sigh. ¡°You literally wasted twice as much time not listening to me.¡±


    ¡°It might be different this time.¡±


    ¡°Goddammit, relax,¡± he said, with a sigh. ¡°You¡¯ve still got another two weeks until they reach her.¡±


    ¡°What if they get there faster!? You said they know where she is!¡±


    ¡°Well, I mean, yeah, but¡­¡±


    ¡°How much time would I lose if I took the detour?¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯ll need to go around three whole ass mountains. At your current pace, that¡¯s what, two, three days?¡±


    Chloe balled up her hands. ¡°Three days is a really long time.¡±


    According to Panda¡¯s estimates, they were already cutting it close. At her current pace, she would reach Arciel on the same day as the inbound hunters. Even if she did manage to squeeze in before them, they wouldn''t have any time to rest or otherwise prepare for the encounter.


    ¡°Yeah, but it''s either that, or you cast the die and pray for a twenty.¡±


    Chloe pursed her lips and fiddled with a needle before slowly taking a breath. ¡°There isn¡¯t enough time not to take risks. We might not make it if I don¡¯t do everything I can.¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Well, alright,¡± said Panda, with a shrug. ¡°It¡¯s your life.¡±


    He watched her go with his grin ever growing. He couldn¡¯t help it. She was so easy to manipulate that she may as well have been a child.


    She was brave, he would give her that, but with its concept only widespread throughout the Langgbjern range, he doubted that she truly understood what it meant to enter a crowned domain.


    At its core, the concept was akin to the time dilation zone that Lana so often employed, or perhaps the ever-night mountain that the herrings had borrowed from Claire, a zone of control that an individual exerted. Within its bounds, it was the domain¡¯s creator who defined the rules of causality.


    Though powerful, the skills that produced such functions were heavily limited in scope. They were immutable, bound to a specific set of predefined rules birthed at the time of their creation. Still, their maintenance remained inordinately expensive. Even Lana''s, a tiny bubble that modified a single facet of reality for exactly one individual therein, ran over a thousand points for every second of continued operation.


    So what then was the cost of a domain that spanned three mountains, capable of reshaping reality precisely as its master perceived?


    The answer was best provided by way of ley line enumeration; there was so much mana in the air around the jittern sub-range that it was nigh on par with Valencia. Granted, not even that was enough on its own. The monster that ran the domain bolstered the mana density even further, for it was only by overwhelming the ambient magic that it could fashion its castle.


    Though rarely accurate, the castle descriptor proved particularly apt in the jittern case. Sized more like a small country than a single residence, the square-walled imperial palace spanned three hundred kilometers in every direction.


    The outer bulwarks were dyed in a brilliant red. Most other buildings either shared the shade or found themselves in teal or white. Either way, the roofs were the same bright yellow. Featuring upturned eaves and bountiful ridges, the seemingly forbidden palace was home to one of the Langgbjern¡¯s most powerful.


    From what Panda had gathered, there were roughly twenty different rulers that governed the icy peaks. The jittern king was one such number, controlling one of the most magic-dense domains outside of Elysium itself. He was perhaps the third or fourth most prominent, standing directly ahead of the rooster king that dominated the south and the undead dragon that ruled the westernmost fortress. And yet, his domain was one of the few that remained largely undistorted.


    It was really just his palace and his citizens to which his influence gave birth. In that sense, the crowned beast was effectively a god. And in fact, had he been worshipped by anything beyond his own creations, he very well could have become a celestial.


    There was no way that Chloe would be able to emerge from an encounter triumphant.


    Her best bet was to avoid his gaze.


    But in that, she had already proven herself a failure.


    ___


    Claire silently shook Boris free of his bloody patina as she joined the line in front of the rooster king. It had been a full week since Sylvia first set out, but she was still slogging away. The fox had checked in a few times since, but she spent most of her time out in the wild apparently racking up experience with Panda and Allegra. Her progress seemed incredibly absurd. In just ten days, she had gained six full racial levels.


    The lyrkress had made a fair bit of progress herself. She ventured out of the rooster¡¯s encampment each morning to participate in the frenzy and earn what experience she could, though she often had to compete with her fellow disciples. Though the idea reeked of Claire¡¯s influence, she was only following suit. It was a part of the group¡¯s routine to go out into the forest and hunt until they had either eaten their fill or run out of prey. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it doubled as a means of recruitment. They would often engage those that caught their eye and challenge them to see if they were worth their time.


    Two such newcomers sat in the pits, battling against their recruiters. Frankly, it didn¡¯t seem like either would make the cut. One was too unintelligent, perhaps even unaware of the fact that she was being tried, while the other was simply weak, on the verge of being kicked to death by a stupid pink bird.


    Claire fully understood the unfortunate velociraptor¡¯s pain. She could easily beat down the flamingo if she used her vectors, but he was almost impossible to fight without them. If not for all the levels she gained¡ªHonkarg¡¯s numbers were a little too high for growth to come easily¡ªshe would¡¯ve found it impossible to close the gap between them.


    A few moments of staring later, the lyrkress shifted her eyes away from the flamingo and towards the rooster in charge. He was also in a pit, offering explicit one-on-one instruction to the dual-wielding peacock therein. And it was precisely for said instruction that Claire was standing in line.


    The lines trended much shorter in the late afternoon; there were only three other disciples in front of her¡ªa tiny finch with a mohawk and an entirely disproportionate scythe, a brontosaurus with a dagger between his lips, and a paper parrot with a bladed anchor¡ªwhich meant it wouldn¡¯t be much longer.


    Surely enough, it took only about ten minutes of waiting for all of the others to be dismissed. Only one of those minutes was spent in battle. The other nine were made up of lectures, slow, comprehensive explanations as to their mistakes and next steps. And though they weren¡¯t exactly for her, Claire made sure to keep her ears raised and pay careful attention. Many of the tips and instructions were general enough that she found ways to apply them to her own techniques. Case in point, the brontosaurus¡¯ lecture. The rooster king really hammered home the importance of range and the ways that the dinosaur could move to circumvent it. While Claire couldn¡¯t exactly snap her neck like a whip, the principle remained worth noting.


    Nodding to herself, and internalizing the lessons by mimicking the actions in the back of her mind, Claire stepped into the pit as soon as the parrot was dismissed. She immediately summoned an entire army of Borises and lowered her hips into a stance.


    She had an axe in one hand and a falchion in the other. Her lips held a dagger and her tail sported a mace. Her talons were left bare, but her back hooves were outfitted with ankle blades. As if that weren''t enough, she planted a dozen-odd lizards around the battlefield while also suspending another twelve in the air behind her.


    It might have seemed a little excessive, but recently, it had become a natural part of her technique. The identity of each individual weapon was never quite fixed. She was flexible enough to switch freely to whatever best suited the situation at hand, but the principle was the same. A Boris on standby was easier to retrieve than a Boris that had yet to spawn. In fairness to her pet iguana, it wasn¡¯t a huge difference. There was maybe half of a millisecond lost to the process. But against a foe as fast as the rooster, even the tiniest window was key.


    Claire kicked off the ground as soon as she was ready and flew into a frenzy of blows. Her vectors, of course, were milked for everything that they were worth. She slashed and twisted, often letting go of her weapons whenever she judged that it would be more efficient than nullifying her momentum.


    That part was probably the biggest part of her growth. It was far more correct to leverage Boris¡¯ abilities only when they worked in her favour. His ridiculous flexibility was his greatest strength by far, and it was only by correcting her approach for it that she was able to draw out his full potential.


    That much, the rooster had taught her on her second day.


    She had implemented it and every other strategy that she had heard. She haphazardly adjusted his weight and often spawned him in inconvenient places to block the opponent¡¯s movements. Case in point, a Boris appeared under the chicken¡¯s arm the moment he tried to lower it, and forced him to spend more effort pushing him out of the way with a much weaker muscle.


    If not for the rooster king¡¯s rock-hard feathers, Boris could have done a lot more than just serving as an obstacle. But even as a minor inconvenience, he provided the chance for Claire to strike at the king.


    And surely enough, it was once again proven to be successful.


    Just as she thought, Claire soon ended up with her back against the ground, a sword pointed to her throat, and the chicken explaining the importance of maintaining her balance, even with her vectors to make up the difference.


    Or at least that was what he did before a blast of mana suddenly surged through the rooster¡¯s domain. The attack was so powerful that it completely ripped apart the barrier that gave the world its form and exposed the true sky above the one that the chicken imagined.


    An army of one-legged wolves flooded straight in, descending alongside what was clearly their master.


    That much was clear from the ornament that sat atop her head.


    Just like the rooster, she was one of the almost god-like monsters that dominated the Langgbjern range.


    Another one of the rightfully crowned.

 Chapter 436 - Reign of the Crowned V

    Chapter 436 - Reign of the Crowned V


    A flurry of metal and magic flew through the early morning sky. The sequence of heavy attacks was followed by a divine directive, an order from the goddess of the frozen wilds herself to bring the senseless violence to an end. And yet, there was no pause.


    Though closest to the goddess in their physical proximity, so too were the central monsters the least mindful of her explicit instruction. The mountains ran a deep red, painted a dozen times over with rivers of blood even as the usual blizzard took hold.


    While her companions were blinded by the veritable wall of snow, Lana could see clearly within her weapon¡¯s range. She cleared away all the winter in her path with a myriad of slashes. The act exposed her to the enemy, the bipedal wooly pig with which she was engaged in combat, but she committed to it regardless. Revealing herself to the monster was far better than remaining blind when her opponent was continuing to throw its fists with pinpoint precision.


    They traded blows for twenty seconds. Lana dodged between the porker¡¯s strikes and spells and retaliated with the butt of her weapon, striking it once for every three hits that it threw in her direction. Though she took roughly half its attacks, the exchange was entirely one sided. She allowed herself to be struck¡ªa bid to encourage the growth of her vitality.


    For the most part, she was unharmed. A series of class mutations and evolutions had made her fur as tough as diamonds. It absorbed and dispersed most of the impacts that struck her and even allowed her to ignore lower level spells.


    That wasn¡¯t to say that the monster was incapable of hurting her. Its 2500 levels allowed it to ignore her newfound armour¡¯s most impressive trait¡ªthe ability to mitigate any damage dealt by a lower leveled foe¡ªand its individual strikes were more than heavy enough to punch through the majority of her defenses.


    Still, it wasn¡¯t like she was running the risk of death or dismemberment. The pig was a split attacker, and neither its physical or magical strikes proved themselves to be particularly powerful. Anything noteworthy had a big wind-up, and the continued use of her domain ensured that no such strike would land.


    She carefully watched her axe as she stalled, waiting until another three pigs closed in before killing them all in a single blow. Their deaths came with a sigh of relief. She was lucky.


    Her weapon was still unbroken.


    Cracks ran all through its metal, most concentrated around the joints that held its head to its shaft. Bought in a random store they¡¯d found along during their travels, it was never a high quality item to begin with. If anything, it was a miracle that it had survived for as long as it had.


    Similar bouts continued to play out throughout the blizzard¡¯s fifteen minute lifespan. Krail and Jules, the only two with whom Lana had reunited, continued firing their spells through the storm. The bright red explosions were far more visible than the tiny arrows, but the elf was putting in no less work. Many of the enemies Lana found were only as exposed as they were because their bodies were riddled with holes.


    As the snowstorm faded, so too did the last of their enemies. They collapsed into lumps of flesh, some grasping at the arrows through their throats, some clutching their detonated stomachs, and some searching for their severed skulls.


    ¡°Is that everything?¡± asked the elf.


    ¡°Looks like it,¡± said Jules. ¡°Not gonna lie, we handled that a lot better than I thought we would.¡±


    ¡°We did good,¡± agreed Lana.


    ¡°I mean, you did fine, sure, but I wouldn¡¯t really say good,¡± said Panda. The raccoon was sitting on top of a pile of corpses, not at all minding the blood soaking its way into his fur.


    ¡°Oh, fuck off,¡± said Jules.


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m just saying it like it is,¡± said Panda. ¡°You barely killed them in time.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but I do think that was in part because we paced ourselves,¡± said Krail. ¡°We could¡¯ve halved the time if we didn¡¯t conserve our resources.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but if anything, you¡¯re kinda expected to manage your shit,¡± said Panda. ¡°Anyway, doesn¡¯t matter. You passed either way,¡± he said. ¡°Your next training ground¡¯ll be the orniferin domain.¡± Hopping off of his bloody seat, he gestured for the others to follow.


    ¡°Fucking finally. I can¡¯t believe you had us sit here for a whole goddamn week.¡±


    ¡°Not my fault you weren¡¯t ready yet. Honestly, I¡¯m still not sure you are,¡± said the raccoon. ¡°So how about you do me a favour and at least try not to die?¡±


    Leading the group up atop the nearest mountain, he intruded upon the eleventh of the twenty domains and, flaunting a corpse that suddenly appeared in his hand, called upon the wrath of its master.


    ___


    Allegra took a deep breath as she evaded another one of the rat-snake¡¯s attacks. At a glance, they were simple, boring even. The inordinately long rodent was simply rushing her down, blindly charging in a straight line without any regard for the magic she threw its way.


    But in reality, the attack was far more complex. The hairs that lined the giant creature¡¯s body disturbed the mana in their surroundings, creating invisible blades of wind powerful enough to cleave through the stone pillars scattered all over the cave. The silent, invisible attack was incredibly difficult to counter. She had to observe the angle of every hair and math out its velocity and tangent before creating a mirror image to cancel the phenomenon outright.


    Destroying literally every projectile at the time of its inception might have seemed rather unnecessary at first¡ªshe had thought that she only needed to block the blades at risk of landing on target¡ªbut the first few seconds of battle had proven the assumption false. Dust was one of its main weapons. Every time it crashed into a pillar and shattered it, the broken rocks were compressed into tiny, dense blades and launched like a barrage of missiles.


    At its core, the attack was incredibly simple. If not for the hairs integrated within the bits of rock, she would have been able to throw up a barrier and block the incoming projectiles with ease. But with them in the mix, her efforts were easily ignored.


    Every barrage presented a near-death experience.


    She could only counter by mirroring its stone creations with her own and blowing the hairs away with gusts of non-magical wind. It was a difficult process, and she needed to exercise the utmost care. Though most assumed otherwise, Allegra was bad at healing, awful even.


    Her restorative abilities stemmed from her solar spells, which returned the damage they dealt as health. And with the rodent completely immune to the sun¡ªshe had already tried to torch it twice over¡ªany damage she took was sure to stick.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Allegra had sustained a fair bit of it already. Over the ten-odd minutes that the battle had lasted, she had suffered a dozen deep gashes, broken her dominant arm, and lost a few of her toes. Most of it was because of the initial attack, the moment where she had allowed the rat-snake¡¯s wind blades to completely shred through the cave. The barrage that had followed was nasty to say the least.


    All of the exchanges that followed had thoroughly exhausted the rabbit. She was ready to crawl under a warm blanket, call it a day, and go right to bed. None of her ars magnae worked. The scripture of the sun, which provided the ability to light anything aflame, was neutered when the rat stopped, dropped, and rolled away the magical fire. The concepts of suffocation, charge separation, and compressive deformation, were negated directly by the rat¡¯s resistance to magic.


    Her alchemy-based abilities, particularly those based on polymorphing her targets, failed for all the same reasons. It wasn¡¯t looking good. She almost thought to fall back on Constantius and ask for his help, but she knew that he had picked the challenge precisely because it would fuel her growth.


    Glancing in his direction, she found that he had even brought Claire¡¯s fox so they could watch together as she floundered.


    He was shaming her into improving.


    It was a petty strategy. And yet, it was strikingly successful.


    Something about seeing the vulpine bard provided just the hint of inspiration she needed. In theory, sixfold skullbreaker¡ªthe ars magna that enacted the concept of compressive deformation¡ªwas the solution she needed. If it wouldn¡¯t work on account of its magical nature, then she simply needed to reproduce it through a set of non-magical means.


    The first thing she needed was an incredibly hard substance, something that the rat-snake could never break past. And for that, she picked a sheet of diamond. They were easy to forge. All she had to do was compress a massive lump of coal whilst heating it with her flames. She had accidentally discovered the process some nine hundred years prior and refined it to a science ever since; a snap of the fingers was all she needed to bring the flat, five meter sheets into existence.


    Next, she needed a source of movement, something to deliver even force upon both the plates above and below. For that, magic was still allowed. It was only the part that touched the rat-snake that would have to be based in physics, so she summoned her plants and ordered them to take point.


    Finally, she needed the rat to fall into position. And that was the easiest part of all.


    All it took was for her to stop moving. The monster had spent the whole battle in pursuit with its jaws wide open and its eyes as ravenous as its rumbling stomach. It was practically driven mad by the need to feast¡ªa madness that led straight to death.


    Allegra ordered the trees with a wave of the wand and closed the cage around the monster''s skull. If that alone was enough, the battle would have long been over. Its skull was hardly soft enough to be crushed by her vines. But that particular weakness, she easily covered with fire. She created a jet of flame behind each panel. The intricate spells sucked in the surrounding air, and after mixing it with fistfuls of raw magic, ejected it as ignited propellant.


    Suddenly, there was enough force for the rat to feel the pressure. It immediately tried to back away, but it was too late. Allegra had already built a diamond cage around the rest of its frame. More thrusters were added with each wave of the wand. The rat screamed as its flesh was pushed together. It tried to push back, but with no developed arm or leg muscles, the most it could do was ram the walls.


    At first, it almost mustered enough force to concern the rabbit, but it lost the ability to build up its momentum as the walls continued to close in.


    And then, with one last squeal, the mouse fell still and bestowed her thousandth racial level.


    The dungeon around her vanished, and with it went her falsified form. She was not reduced to an elderly, deformed freak of a rabbit as Claire had suspected, but a shape that few would describe as being a rabbit at all.


    Sure, she had a pair of large floppy ears, and sure she still had the spring-boosted legs that allowed her to cast on the move. She even sported the usual puffy tail that had earned her race its name. But that was it.


    The rest of her body¡¯s shape had been changed over time, warped with every ascension to improve the flow of her magic. With her third, she took the idea to its logical extreme and minimized the distance that her magic circuits had to extend. She optimized the use of her volume as well, eliminating unnecessary organs in favour of additional mana veins.


    She demonstrated with her form the shape of an ideal caster.


    She demonstrated with her form a circle in three dimensions.


    Without any illusions applied, Allegra was a ball of fur with two arms, two legs, two ears, and a tail.


    And that was all she was.


    The Grand Magus had no face. The extra organs were too inefficient when she could use magic to see and taste and smell. The visage that she showed the rest of the world was a reconstruction of the form she had in her youth. It was a mask constructed by way of light magic, specifically the sort that allowed her to bend the sun''s rays to do precisely her bidding.


    It was not just the front end of her digestive track that had vanished. The entire system had been done away with. The organs took too much energy to run, and the requisite holes in her body would only allow her mana to leak into the world beyond. It was simply a matter of surface area. The less she had, the less she had to worry.


    Of course, the shape wasn''t without its weaknesses. Its compact nature and overall lack of heat-generating parts made it incredibly easy for her to get cold. Being incapable of eating, she could no longer experience many of the simple joys in life or even comfortably sit down. But more importantly, there remained the fact that most of her body was brain.


    She covered up the vulnerability with the same ars magna that distorted her image. Any attacks that struck her were recalibrated based on the assailant¡¯s perception. Even if a knife dug straight through her brain, it would remain unharmed if they thought they stabbed her through the stomach. Her skin would certainly break from the impact, and the flesh around the lower part of her midsection would be readily torn open, but with no stomach to lose, she would emerge with no organ damage at all.


    It was a bit of a double-edged sword. Most of the time, it paid off in her favour, but there was the odd occasion where an attacker would think that a hit had landed despite a lack of contact. And if they were truly convinced, then it would effectively ring true¡ªnot that it mattered at present.


    Her true form was as exposed as the surrounding hellscape. Dark blackened rocks, plumes of blighted magma, and the wails of those condemned to eternal damnation stood opposite a boundless sky that overlooked a great blue planet from atop a floating cabin. Two completely different realms existed in the same physical space, not at odds, but peace.


    The goddess who served as her guide was hardly displeased by the god taken by her furious lament, and so too did he respect her as the one who birthed the light he blighted. Seemingly ignoring their differences, they stood side by side, Rikael in the burning hells, and Builledracht within the pleasant cabin. The wrong domains. And yet, the ones that were aesthetically most fitting.


    Both had served as her teachers. Both had bolstered her magic, And both had lit her path.


    Together, they smiled, and together, they extended their hands.


    Allegra was finally ready.


    Ready to face not only the life she led as Grand Magus, but the consequences of her long standing deception.


    Ready to accept that she was the source of Virillius¡¯ grief, the one who stole his joy and eroded his authority by framing him as a bloodthirsty monster.


    Ready to admit that she had arranged for her own master¡¯s death.


    Constantius had certainly tamed her, but he had never issued any orders. It was just an excuse, something she could use to squirrel away her guilt and pretend that she was never responsible. That was why she had asked him to take control in the first place.


    She had only wanted to run away from what she needed to do, to shut out her feelings and claim that the fault was his, and to see him as evil to pretend that she was not.


    There were no two ways about it.


    Allegra was responsible for the war with Kryddar.


    Allegra was responsible for Ferdinand¡¯s fall.


    Allegra was responsible for the curse laid on Violet, the cruel, twisted spell crafted carefully to resemble her chronic illness.


    She finally stared down the facts.


    And became the aspect of false fiction.

 Chapter 437 - Reign of the Crowned VI

    Chapter 437 - Reign of the Crowned VI


    The rooster¡¯s realm cracked open as the one-legged wolves made their entrance. Though clearly identifiable as feral pack beasts, the invaders¡¯ silhouettes bore little resemblance to those of their non-Langgbjern peers. It was not just their limb count that left them looking distorted, but their complete disrespect for the canine form.


    They were devoid of bodies.


    Each specimen had a head, a leg, and a few tails, but that was the full extent of their flesh. They had no torsos, no ribcages, no stomachs and no necks. There wasn¡¯t a shoulder or pelvis between the whole pack and their singular legs grew out from their chins like beards. It seemed impossible for them to keep their balance. And yet, they stood confidently atop the three-meter limbs.


    Height was their largest dimension by far. They stood at roughly half a meter long, though one could readily quadruple their length by accounting for all five of their tails.


    The alpha stood from the rest of the pack on account of her larger size and her seven tails, but like all the others, she sported a series of marks that ran down the side of her skull. The blood-red streaks almost looked like eyes, perfectly resembling the highlights that appeared above their noses.


    ¡°Zottsgarb!¡± snarled the alpha. Her voice was deep, carrying itself with an almost hypnotic tone. ¡°You cheating bastard! Today will be the day of your retribution!¡± The space behind her was completely distorted. The rooster¡¯s flattened, hole-laden clearing was replaced by sandy desert. The golden brown hills seemed to go on for hundreds of kilometers; as far as magical throughput went, the wolf clearly held the advantage.


    And yet, Zottsgarb, whose name Claire had only just learned, chuckled as he drew his blade. ¡°Again? Foolish. Reeducation. Required.¡±


    ¡°Shut the hell up, you limp-dicked prick!¡±


    The canine warriors leapt into battle with their queen¡¯s spiteful roar. Compressing their legs, they launched into the sky in an almost frog-like manner whilst drawing their staves and wands with their tails. The rooster¡¯s disciplines, likewise, reached for their bladed weapons and made for the sky above.


    Sauropsids and canids met, wand against blade. A complete mess of a melee.


    It didn¡¯t make any sense.


    Though they had clearly chosen weapons oriented towards true casters, there wasn¡¯t a single wolf who used the amplifying tool for its intended purpose. Instead, they swung them. They swung and whipped and slashed and struck, using them as batons as they clashed against their winged opponents.


    Claire didn¡¯t have any time to revel in her confusion. One of the wolves on the other side of the battlefield spotted her standing still and immediately broke into a charge. Leading with its wand held in front of it, it became the canine equivalent of a javelin, the tip of a snarling, scarlet spear. The colour was rooted in a layer of rich mana, pure arcane energy meant to empower its blows.


    Identical scenes played out all over the battlefield. It wasn¡¯t just the invaders that made use of their magic. The birds and lizards unleashed their sealed powers and fought with a ferocity they had never once shown during their hunts or training.


    Finally unbound, they attacked with enough force to carve their blades across the horizon. So powerful were the unleashed spells that the fighters very well might have toppled the mountains had they still been present. But they weren¡¯t. They were stuck between two false realms, two non-existent planes of being projected by the crowned where they could go all out.


    Blood and bodies descended from the sky as the battles were quickly decided.


    Both sides were looking to kill, and the wolf that charged Claire was no exception.


    A soft smile appeared on her lips.


    It was the perfect scenario.


    A chance to let loose and level, to make up for the experience she had forgone to study beneath the giant chicken.


    Even fully armed, Claire only continued to wait. She stood stock still, pretending to be unaware of the incoming beast until it was a moment away from tearing into her guts. Only then did she meet its eyes and grab ahold of its weapon.


    She drained its mana and interfered with its spell before the arcane light could burn her. The wolf gasped and tried to back away, but she transferred its momentum to the lazy lizard that appeared in her hand and rammed his face through the bottom of its jaw. It started screaming and flailing, but a twist of the Boris silenced its voice.


    Log Entry 917389


    You have slain a level 3781 Langgbjern Livian Spellblade (Awakened.)


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 741 points of agility


    - 345 points of dexterity


    - 514 points of spirit


    - 9 points of strength


    - 3338 points of wisdom


    Log Entry 917390


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been partially restored.


    Your racial class, Caldriess, has reached level 794.


    You have gained 444 ability points.


    Claire frowned. The monster¡¯s death had awarded a fair bit of experience. It was practically a full level for just the single kill. But at the same time, for something nearing four thousand, it almost seemed too little. But again, the lyrkress was given no time to think. Two more wolves rushed her as soon as the first collapsed, their maws still covered in feathers and scales.


    The one that came from her right pushed to its top speed in a heartbeat and charged in a perfectly straight line. It tried to swerve out of the way when she extended Boris in its direction, but a deluge of vectors kept it perfectly on track. A few moments later, and it was run through, split in half on account of its own stupidity.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Its partner was a little more cautious. It weaved between the ongoing battles as it stalked her. By using its massive nose, it kept a perfect handle on her location. It was so confident in its ability to sniff her out that it didn¡¯t even try to keep its eyes upon her. And that was why she found it so easy to kill. She thrust her lizard forward, opening a portal at the very last second to find the livian¡¯s face.


    Though her blade landed on target, Claire found the third wolf to be surprisingly durable. Neither the stab to its throat nor the dozen to its jaw did much in the way of harm. Only by cutting deep into its skull with a much larger blade was she able to end it.


    Finally granted a moment of peace and quiet, the lyrkress rose into the air and surveyed the battlefield. Though far more competent, she found that the rooster¡¯s flock was being pushed back. And even more curious than that was the relative strength of their opponents. Though they had fewer tails, the wolves that they were against were far faster than the ones that Claire had engaged. It varied from specimen to specimen, but their magic seemed much tougher as well. At least from their auras, it seemed that some were over a hundred times as magical as their weaker peers.


    It was only as she found Honkarg, the flamingo that had first introduced her to the rooster king, that she understood her folly.


    He too had an easy time with his enemies. All four of the wolves that swarmed him were weak, pushovers just like the ones that had fallen to her blade. Or at least that was how they appeared until he cut off their tails.


    There were no obvious physical changes, but their mana swelled with each rear limb removed, quintupling itself each time.


    Finally understanding, she darted towards one of the free wolves nearby and sawed straight through its posterior. It didn¡¯t seem like the best idea to take more than one tail at once. But that was exactly why she did it. Her blade sang. Whirring through the air, he claimed the livian¡¯s tails, leaving all but the one that it required to wield its weapon.


    The resulting nigh-tailless beast was infuriated. It roared and snarled, screaming canine profanities as it took up a stance with its weapon. Though one legged, it almost seemed like a fencer. And in fact, the mana that grew from the tip of its wand took on a rapier-like shape. Thin, narrow, and long, the blade twanged like a whip as its wielder snapped it into position.


    There was something about it that almost seemed to remind her of Lia¡¯s curious sword.


    And that was precisely why she tugged on its leg as soon as it tried to kick off.


    Though it started off tumbling, the wolf sprouted magical wings from its cheeks and quickly regained its balance. It seemed to understand that she was the source of its malaise. Its anger flared anew as it righted its path and bolstered its speed to even greater heights.


    It started its attack from over a dozen meters away, its sword extending midswing into a massive whip of a blade. From the angle and the speed, the weapon looked like it would snap back around and strike her, regardless of how she blocked had she not robbed the magic that held it together. The spell fizzled out as she grabbed it, leaving its caster exposed.


    Checkmate appeared to be on the table. But the empowered wolf reconstructed the blade in an instant whilst overpowering the vectors that Claire had used to steady its trajectory. Digging its foot into the ground, it delivered a slash straight to Claire¡¯s neck. The sword traced a clean arc and met only the faintest hint of resistance.


    The wolf knew from the sensation alone that it had torn through flesh.


    And yet, when it completed its swing, it found the lyrkress unharmed.


    There was only a faint trickle of red along the side of her neck. For a second, the livian spellblade was puzzled. There was no sense to be made. Its blade was covered in red. There was no way it could have missed.


    It ignored the injury it received from the accompanying counter and immediately launched into another attack. Perhaps, it reasoned, its cut was too clean, and its opponent had immediately sealed the wound through some sort of regenerative ability.


    For its second blow, it was more careful. After parrying an attack from its oddly-shaped opponent, it raised its weapon overhead and delivered a heavy, vertical strike. The one-legged dog didn¡¯t care much for its opponent¡¯s invisible counter. It knew that it would heal the moment it defeated its quarry.


    It was sure that it cut straight through the enemy¡¯s shoulder and took its arm straight off.


    But again, it was the only one to suffer from the exchange.


    If its eyes were any better at tracking its blade, it might have caught on, realised that a thin portal had appeared exactly where it struck¡ªa portal that led straight to its exposed posterior.


    Claire almost wanted to break into a fit of laughter. The wolf was so stupid that it didn¡¯t even realise that it was striking itself. Still, she stayed on her guard. It was six times her speed. She only caught its attacks because she was able to read them. Her more traditional attempts at offence ended with her lizard immediately deflected. At least until she furthered the use of her portals.


    Regardless of his form, she teleported her lizard straight into the wolf¡¯s body midswing. It wasn¡¯t yet an exact science. The monster¡¯s movements grew wilder with each hit that landed. It randomly flung its body left and right, often changing it at the very last second just to throw off her blade.


    And to some extent, it was successful. The random, unpredictable movements allowed it to dodge the odd attack. But while the rest all landed on target, the wolf appeared relatively undamaged. The wounds scattered all over its flesh were quick to close. It didn¡¯t quite regenerate quickly enough to match a Cadrian warrior, but the damage it took only barely outpaced its healing. The predator¡¯s eyes continued to shine with strength and determination even as Claire drilled her lizard straight into its brain.


    The monster was calm, too calm. Claire couldn¡¯t help but wonder if she had lobotomized it in just the right way to rob it of its sense of danger.


    The theory lasted for all of three seconds, ending as the wolf¡¯s magical aura changed from a bright red to a deep pickle green. All of a sudden, her portals began to fail. The ones she placed within its body refused to open their gates.


    Her vectors were equally as ineffective. The ones applied directly to the wolf monster¡¯s body were rejected, diminished to the point of having almost no effect. Evidently, the wolf had exchanged its wisdom for spirit.


    The rest of its stats were unaffected. It was still just as swift and strong. Closing the distance in an instant, it launched a chain of attacks.


    But Claire was unbothered. Her defence was practically identical. She dodged, swerved, and sidestepped while opening portals whenever the dog was able to surmount her defenses. Though its wand was coated in the same aura as its body, the assailant slipped through the dimensional cracks regardless and stabbed itself straight in the butt.


    It opened its mouth wide, but it was the only one surprised.


    Claire was well aware of the outcome. Sure, its overwhelming spirit stopped her magic in its tracks when she applied her effects to its body, but the connections themselves were physical in nature. She was simply joining two places in space, rewiring the way the coordinates connected. And while she had certainly placed the portal in her foes¡¯ path, the wolf had slipped through on its own accord. Before it could retreat or even get over the shock, Claire snapped the portal closed and parted the tip of the creature¡¯s tail from the leftover stump.


    She opened another portal beneath its single foot when it stumbled backwards and shut it again right as the beast was about halfway through.


    Both severed parts of its body tried to recover, but she grabbed ahold of them before they could meet and drained the wolf''s health directly.


    Log Entry 917397


    You have slain a level 3499 Langgbjern Livian Spellblade (Awakened.)


    Log Entry 917398


    You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been partially restored.


    Your racial class, Caldriess, has reached level 797.


    Your titular class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has reached level 74.


    You have gained 3332 ability points.


    A small smile crossed the lyrkress¡¯ lips as she noted the bolstered gains.


    It turned out, her first impression had been perfectly on point.


    The wolves were free experience.

 Chapter 438 - Reign of the Crowned VII

    Chapter 438 - Reign of the Crowned VII


    Chloe put a hand on her brow and squinted as the mountain gave way to a giant red wall. The colossal construct sat not along the distant peaks, but atop a thick layer of clouds. Despite carrying the heavy burden, they blew straight through the sky, the gentle spring breeze carrying them along with the ease. There were no gaps in the clouds, nor any other way to see past them and return to the ground. When Chloe tried to approach the flying fortress¡¯ outer edge, she found herself ejected from the domain and returned to mountain-range beyond it.


    She considered scaling the wall and dancing her away across the rooftops, but approached the distant gate instead. The men that guarded it had noticed her the moment she set foot in the domain, and though certainly shameless, Chloe wasn¡¯t quite shameless enough to bust out her climbing gear beneath their crushing stares.


    Approaching as calmly as she could, she removed her mask and her glasses while greeting them as a head maid should. Lifting up her uniform¡¯s dress, she curtsied, a faint, subtle, gentle smile on her face all the while.


    ¡°Good afternoon, gentlemen.¡± Her voice was controlled and mellow, soothing enough that Panda almost did a double take. Everything from her mannerisms to her demeanour to her graceful steps had changed, almost as if she had been upped and replaced altogether.


    It was a shame then that the guards spoke no Marish. Communicating entirely in barks, ruffs, sneezes, and whimpers, the armoured, pug-faced satyrs completely failed to convey their intentions.


    Chloe blinked. ¡°I am afraid I do not understand you,¡± she said. ¡°Are you capable of either writing or speaking the common tongue?¡±


    Again, she was met with a series of baffling sounds. She could feel her enthusiasm and willpower draining with every subsequent arf. Evidently, an exchange of words was beyond their means.


    ¡°Would you mind if we tried a different approach?¡± asked the maid. ¡°Please nod if you are capable of understanding me.¡±


    The two guards exchanged a pair of looks before they nodded their heads.


    ¡°Excellent,¡± said the maid. ¡°Would it be possible for me to pass through this door? I have to get through to the other side as quickly as possible. My mistress, the beautiful queen I serve, is at risk of losing her life.¡±


    One of the dogs gave her a pensive frown, while the other shook its flattened face.


    ¡°Is there no way that you can make an exception?¡± she asked. ¡°This is a matter of the highest priority, and I do not have the liberty to waste any more time.¡±


    She clasped her hands together and pleaded with an upturned gaze, but again, she was rejected. Sensing that her other choice had also been taken off the table¡ªthey were sure to alert their peers if she started up the walls¡ªshe twisted her lips into a pout, leaned just a little bit forward, and pulled on the neck of her blouse.


    ¡°Please? I¡¯ll do anything.¡±


    It was just the right angle for the jitterns to leer at her chest. Chloe¡¯s breasts weren¡¯t quite as large as Arciel¡¯s, but it wasn¡¯t like they were too much smaller. Though she had a slightly leaner, taller build, her body was proportioned just as perfectly. It was shaped by a god in all but name¡ªshe had sat down with Alfred during her ascension and carefully picked out the form that her body would take.


    Everything but her face¡ªshe was already pretty enough by both of their standards¡ªhad been perfectly sculpted to maximize her appeal. She was mathematically correct. The size of her chest, the curvature of her spine, and the protrusion of her rump were just a few of the many pieces calculated to perfection.


    The dog-men weren¡¯t supposed to be attracted to human-like creatures, nor did they know anything about the ratios or their accompanying theories. But even they found themselves curious and tempted as she put her charms on full display.


    And with that, the conditions were met.


    A snap of the fingers was all it took for Chloe to invade the pugs¡¯ minds and bring them under her dominion. They weren¡¯t quite thralls, but she could have easily drained them of their life force and transformed them into the undead soldiers if she wished. At least that was how she understood the skill from its bizarre description. She had yet to try it, and though she was curious, she refrained from performing any real-world experiments. The ability stemmed from the part of her that had become a succubus and, as such, its activation required her to tease and touch their most sensitive areas.


    With no such intention and all the regret in the world, Chloe nearly fell into a downward spiral of lament, but she dismissed it as soon as she recalled her mistress. There was no time to waste.


    ¡°Open the door.¡±


    One of the dogs obediently approached the gate while the second completely failed at the art of subtlety. Lying low to the floor, it directed its gaze upwards whilst slowly pushing its face closer and closer to the edge of her skirt. Chloe nearly kicked the stupid pug then and there, but attacking it would break the spell lest it was a masochist. And as she had no confirmation as to the deformed dog-man¡¯s inclinations, she forced herself to hold back.


    Something in the back of her mind urged her to play along with its folly, and despite her doubts, she soon followed her instincts and slowly raised her dress with her tail.


    She hated the way that the bipedal dog slobbered, but she smiled sultrily regardless and spoke in her huskiest voice. ¡°Like what you see, boy?¡±


    The succubus slowed her pace as her hem reached her knees. Giggling seductively, she licked her lips and allowed her hands to take her tail¡¯s place. The rear appendage snaked between her breasts and up to her lips. Making sure to keep her eyes in contact with the pug¡¯s, she wrapped the heart-shaped tip around her tongue before sinking her teeth straight into its side.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    To her surprise, that was enough to send the pug-faced satyr over the edge. He barked wildly, his whole body spasming as a stain appeared between his legs. The alkaline scent was so horrifyingly putrid that she wanted to vomit, and yet, she almost felt like she craved it. Her demonic instincts burned strongly in the parched depths of her throat. But her growing thirst was immediately suppressed by a burst of curiosity.


    For though she hadn¡¯t laid hands on the dog-man, though she could only make out the rough outline of the frog between its legs, and though she ingested nothing, it had excreted its life.


    The monster had fallen to the concept that defined her race¡ªthe ability to draw out the souls of those she brought the ultimate pleasure.


    The kill wasn¡¯t confirmed just yet, but its fate danced between her fingers. In its exposed form, she could manipulate it however she wanted. A single touch would suffice to either bring it to the zenith, send it to the abyss, or anything in between. And it was not just its physical sensation that she could freely control. Chloe could plant herself in its consciousness, show it any scene that she could imagine, or even read its mind and walk its memories. It was a slave, and she was its master.


    It was anything but a fair ability, but such was the norm for a true demon. It was in their very design to take their enemies¡¯ souls and subsequently prey upon them. And following her instincts, Chloe did just that¡ªsummoning the pug-satyr¡¯s soul into her open hand, she delivered the tiny, glowing ball between her lips and beckoned it down her throat.


    She half expected her body to react the same way it did with blood, but thankfully, it was not pleasure, but vigour that she felt. Her fatigue vanished in the blink of an eye. She felt like had enough energy to go for days at a time, and she felt strengthened, far beyond what the accompanying levels should have provided.


    Upon recalling the system, and realizing again that she had killed one of the guards, she immediately looked to its partner to find it still enchanted. The second dog was well aware that its companion was dead. But for reasons far beyond her understanding, that only seemed to add to its excitement. It was like a bomb with a tiny fuse, lit as she met its gaze.


    She didn¡¯t even get to open her mouth before it followed in the first dog¡¯s footsteps, exposed its spiritual body and found itself absorbed.


    Just like that, both of the level 4000 monsters were dead.


    With their corpses enthralled, she pried open the gate and peeked at the palace beyond.


    She could tell even from the outside, but the royal abode was absolutely gigantic. The population must have numbered around the hundreds of thousands. Most were servants. Girls in simple green or orange outfits ran around the building with cleaning supplies and piles of laundry in hand. Most of the men were dressed in similar blue robes, though theirs were shorter, with ankles and wrists exposed, while the womens¡¯ were modest enough to cover everything but their faces, though some covered even those.


    The noble ladies having tea atop distant balconies did so with veils over their faces. The thin fabric pieces of silk, which hung just above their flattened noses, barely obscured their features. It was almost like they were there just to inconvenience the servants responsible for lifting and lowering them in time with their sips and bites.


    Like their poorer counterparts, the aristocrats wore one-piece robes, only theirs were far more colorful and ornate. The bright pinks and purples were further accented by beautiful blue gems, carved into cubes that resembled their flattened faces. Similar gems could be seen all around the palace, worn around wrists, necks, and ankles in turn.


    Only after noting the clothing¡¯s thinness did she realise that the winter had vanished. Spring was in full bloom. Bright white and yellow petals fluttered through the space, falling from the towering, hundred-meter trees that grew in and around the castle.


    There was a bustling market as well, filled with dog-faced satyrs running to and fro with all sorts of merchandise in their puppy-pawed palms. There must have been a hundred thousand jitterns running around the domain. And yet, Chloe was able to sneak in. Not even the two guards on the other side of the gate noticed as she silently passed through the doorway and crawled along the inner wall.


    She sped up the nearest tree as soon as she reached its base, and after surmounting its canopy, dashed across the bright yellow roofs. The maid was confident in her ability to remain undetected. Her steps were as light as an assassin¡¯s and her presence as thin as a shadow¡¯s. She looked around every time she ran the risk of exposure and proceeded with utmost care. And yet, she found a group of pursuers hot on her tail less than a minute into her infiltration.


    They wore dark navy robes long enough to drag behind them as they walked. Like the ladies they served, the warriors had veils to cover their faces. They dropped down from their hats and almost fully obscured their features. The only opening was a slit over the right eye, just wide enough for the dog-men to perceive the world beyond.


    She didn¡¯t think too much of them at first. They couldn¡¯t keep up with her speed. A few quick turns was all she needed to lose the vast majority. The fastest of the bunch, she shook off by dropping into the city and scampering between the buildings.


    It didn¡¯t make much sense, with what she knew of their levels, but she didn¡¯t think much of it until she climbed back onto a roof, only to find herself surrounded by a group of twenty, led by a man with a particularly expensive outfit. His uniform was white with a mix of gold and silver trim, and his hat was a glowing blue pyramid. It was adorned with a particularly strange crown. Devoid of any other jewels, it was made of the same material as his hat and constructed in a manner that could only be described as all too square.


    ¡°Intruder thy art, upon mine realm beloved, a sinful shadow.¡± His manner of speech was curious, but even more curious were the effects that accompanied his words. A painting of a solemn jittern appeared behind him when he said the word art. It soon transformed into a model of the castle before stretching itself out into a dagger-wielding splotch of darkness.


    ¡°I''m sorry. I didn''t have a choice.¡± Chloe didn''t bother putting on airs. They already knew her nature; her escape had been anything but graceful.


    ¡°So rings deception, within mine ears wide open, plain as first light bright.¡± Again, his words were actualized. A series of bells, a floppy ear, and the rising sun. Each phrase was sketched upon his canvas.


    ¡°I¡¯m telling the truth. My queen is waiting on the other side of these mountains, and she''s in danger. I don''t have any time to waste on detours.¡±


    The odd-hatted pug met her eyes from the slit in his veil. And at least for a while, he kept his focus dead centre.


    ¡°For candor thy claim, in veracity thine blade, by combat we trust.¡±


    The encirclement opened up, with all of its members, including the strange, speaking individual, stepping far out of the way.


    ¡°In the ashen sword, it shall all be brought to light, a warrior¡¯s flash.¡±


    It was only as he said the final words that her opponent appeared. A particularly muscular pug with a blade of grass between his teeth formed first in the space behind the king jittern. And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he stepped into reality. He clearly still looked like a drawing. Having been a sketch, the lines that governed his body were harsh. He was affected by the light, but the shadows that were cast upon his monochrome body were seemingly sketched in with pencil.


    He clearly didn¡¯t exist.


    He wasn¡¯t real, just a fragment of the other jittern¡¯s imagination.


    And yet, there he was. A challenger that dared the blood-sucking succubus to prove her worth before the jittern crown.

 Chapter 439 - Reign of the Crowned VIII

    Chapter 439 - Reign of the Crowned VIII


    Sylvia breathed a bit of a sigh as she collapsed into a pile of snow and looked over the mountainous horizon. She was bored out of her mind. The monsters that filled the ¡°third hardest dungeon¡± were weak enough that she didn¡¯t have to participate in person. One of the echoes that she had created was killing everything in her stead, singing two songs at once and ending the rabble without the slightest hint of effort.


    Even the rat snakes that Allegra had struggled with fell in a single verse. There was little that they could do when she sang in precisely the frequency that resonated with their brains. There was no magic involved; their mana-repellent pelts could do nothing to protect them.


    At best, they could stall by outrunning the sound, but Sylvia¡¯s voice lost no volume with distance and the dungeon only extended so far. The rodents could escape by sprinting to subsequent floors, but even then, it was only her laziness that delayed their deaths. She could have easily surrounded them with copies and cut off all routes of escape had she not been too bored to put in the extra effort.


    Sylvia cleared the dungeon once each hour without ever stepping foot within its bounds. Panda had already introduced her to all of the other high-level places as well, but aside from the domains, which she had deemed too troublesome to invade, none had proven themselves to be worth any thought; her echoes were having no trouble ploughing straight through.


    The racial trait that allowed for self-multiplication was precisely the secret behind her rapid growth.


    She had a thousand different bodies running a hundred different dungeons, all while she napped the day away. In hindsight, she realised that she should have just gone to Alfred. The equitaurs were clearly much better for training, offering both intellectual growth and far more experience, but she wasn¡¯t in the mood to return to Llysltetein. Sure, she was bored of the Langgbjern dungeons, but engaging in the same old practice she had used to earn all of her previous levels was a surefire way to exhaust the rest of her patience.


    A part of her wanted to go running back to Claire¡¯s side¡ªthe lyrkress was a prime source of entertainment and one of the few things that sparked her inspiration¡ªbut that would have been far too embarrassing. She had explicitly told her pet snoose that she would be spending a bit of time away. Claire was already teasing her for constantly checking in. She couldn¡¯t even begin to imagine the mockery that would await if she gave in so quickly. And so, she begrudgingly persevered.


    ¡°Well, looks like someone¡¯s having fun.¡±


    She didn¡¯t know when it happened. But at some point or other, Panda had appeared beside her. He sat on the side of the cliff, legs dangling and his chin lightly cupped in his hands.


    ¡°Ughhh¡­ stop reminding me,¡± huffed the fox. ¡°I knew I should¡¯ve just slept. Leveling is such a waste of effort.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on. Don¡¯t say that.¡± Panda cackled. ¡°Think about it this way. The more you level, the better you¡¯ll be able to protect her.¡±


    ¡°I know. But that doesn¡¯t mean it isn¡¯t super boring.¡±


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s not all bad,¡± said the ring-tailed pest. ¡°At least you¡¯re actually making fast progress. It¡¯d probably take me ten times as long to gain the same amount of experience. And that¡¯s assuming I¡¯m really going at it.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn, I mean, sure I¡¯m gaining experience, but it¡¯s not like it really means much.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just ¡®cause you¡¯re not fighting one of the crowned.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really see how that makes much of a difference. I don¡¯t even like fighting.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a pretty bold claim for someone around level 2000.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°The only reason I ever leveled was ¡®cause I was bored.¡±


    ¡°Doubt it even helps much unless you¡¯re a specific kind of crazy.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ yeah. I never really thought it was all that fun,¡± said the fox. ¡°But it beat doing nothing or hanging out with my parents. Or my great-grandpa because he gets kinda weird sometimes.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d imagine.¡± The raccoon leaned back and planted his hands in the snow. ¡°Say, Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Mhm?¡±


    ¡°You do love Claire, right?¡±


    ¡°H-huh!? W-where¡¯d that come from!?¡±


    ¡°Just answer the damn question.¡±


    ¡°W-why should I?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s important. Real important.¡±


    The fox slowly buried her face in the snow and forcibly cooled herself off as she spoke. ¡°Y-yeah. I think so.¡±


    ¡°Then would you do anything for her?¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ what¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± She dug her face out of the makeshift ice bucket and cast a suspicious glare. Panda, however, was unflinching. His mind as unreadable as his lazy expression, he simply returned her gaze.


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know what to tell you. It¡¯s pretty self-explanatory to me,¡± he said. ¡°Either you¡¯re willing to do literally anything for her or you aren¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I-I mean, I get that part. But I mean it kinda depends on what you¡¯re asking.¡±


    ¡°Am I hearing a no?¡±


    ¡°Well, uhm¡­ maybe? I¡¯m not sure.¡±


    Panda sighed. ¡°Well, that¡¯s one bet lost. Here I was pretty much convinced that you were the type to naively jump into a shakedown.¡±


    ¡°What the heck!? That¡¯s just rude.¡±


    ¡°Not my fault you act the way you do,¡± he said, with a shrug. ¡°Anyway, back on topic.¡± Lifting his legs back over the ledge, he spun around and faced her. ¡°You see, there¡¯s a special little thing in these mountains that happens to be a little bit more than a dungeon.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°Well, you know how dungeons are trials? The goddess of the frozen wilds just so happens to have her true divine trial sitting smack in the middle of the range.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Sylvia blinked. ¡°Wait, really?¡±


    ¡°Yup. And it just so happens to be where we were planning to end our little excursion. I was originally thinking we could head over by the end of winter, but by the looks of it, you¡¯re pretty much set already,¡± he said. ¡°I was thinking you could get a little bit of a head start and maybe even run it all the way through before everyone else is done,¡± he said. ¡°Do that, I¡¯ll be able to tell you everything.¡±


    Sylvia blinked. ¡°Everything?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, everything. You¡¯ll learn all about Claire, her daddy issues, and even her feelings for you.¡±


    ¡°H-huh?¡± Sylvia reddened in an instant. ¡°H-her feelings?¡±


    ¡°Aye, aye. It¡¯s a whole treasure trove of information. You wouldn¡¯t want to miss out now, would you?¡±


    Sylvia paused for a moment before shaking her head of all the rosy thoughts that followed. ¡°Wait a second¡­ What does this have to do with me liking and being willing to do things for her again?¡±


    ¡°Nothing really,¡± said Panda. ¡°I just thought it¡¯d be funny to ask.¡±


    He broke into laughter immediately upon noticing the fox¡¯s indignant stare.


    ¡°What the heck!? You¡¯re such a jerk!¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on. Relax,¡± he said, with another chuckle. ¡°How about I make it up to you?¡± He was given another skeptical look, but he shrugged it off without a care in the world. ¡°I could tell you how she¡¯d act if she fell in love with you.¡±


    Sylvia returned to her snowy den with a groan. ¡°Ugh¡­ Stop teasing me. Just leave me alone already.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so cold. What if I said she¡¯s exhibiting one telltale behaviour already?¡±


    The fox said nothing, but she couldn¡¯t stop her tail from twitching.


    ¡°Well?¡± asked Panda. ¡°You want to hear it or not? I don¡¯t mind packing up and leaving. Especially since, you know, I¡¯m kind of doing you a favour in the first place.¡±


    Sylvia still didn¡¯t say anything, but she reluctantly dragged herself out of the tunnel and shifted her gaze towards him.


    ¡°The most obvious sign is that she talks to you.¡±


    ¡°Uhhmmmmm¡­ I don¡¯t really know what that¡¯s supposed to mean.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty self explanatory, really. She doesn¡¯t talk to people she hates. Therefore, if she were to be in love with someone, she would clearly speak to them.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    Sylvia stared for a few seconds before lunging at the pest and opening her jaws wide.


    But having already anticipated the action, Panda leapt out of the way and vanished into the aether, a cackle on his lips all the while.


    ___


    Claire continued to plough through the wolves, tackling them two, three, four at a time as she gained levels hand over fist. They were all too easily abusable. While they didn''t give full experience until a few seconds after their tails were lopped, the wounds they suffered persisted through the change in their power. Coincidentally, a faint hint of true ice was more than enough to suppress them. Freezing their calves to their thighs and their tails to their teeth assured an easy finish.


    She wasn''t the only one going ballistic. On the chicken''s side, there was Honkarg the flamingo, Barkleigh the gecko, and Quackers the chicken. All three were blasting their way through one-tailed wolves with ease.


    But while they certainly prepared more quantity than quality, the invaders were hardly without noteworthy combatants. Most prominent of the bunch was a wolf who wielded his wand like a scythe. Even without any of his tails removed, he was running around the battlefield like a madman, cackling as he reaped friend and foe alike. Trailing slightly behind in kills was his polar opposite¡ªa wolf with black fur marched calmly through the lines and slaughtered every bird and lizard that refused to make way. She culled her own tails, removing them every time they regenerated as if it were only natural. And then there was the silver-furred man whose face was buried in his neck. His body was a short, stubby tube, and the only part of his face was tucked so far inside of his fur that he was without a line of sight. Even his foot was missing, leaving him to get around by way of randomly rolling.


    Of all of the creatures present on the battlefield, he was clearly the one that looked the dumbest.


    And yet, he was undefeated.


    Everything that approached him was vacuumed into his cylinder and never seen again. If not for the crunches that followed and the bones he spat, their fates may very well have been unknown.


    He was the one that Claire decided to approach. All she needed to do was cancel out his vectors and deliver Boris through the tip of his nose. It was a simple but surefire solution. She was so confident in its execution that she began contemplating the scythe-wielder¡¯s death, but the realm shook before she could close the distance.


    There was a loud creaking, a booming, metallic groan that rang with such volume that it left the world dead silent. A sharp pain pulsed through the depths of her skull as her whole body was assaulted by a blast of something. The blinding light that went off in the distance was a mix of vibrant colours. Bright greens pushed against vibrant yellows while deep blues swallowed dark reds.


    Her head was spinning so violently that she was unsure when she¡¯d been pushed to the ground. And for a moment, it almost seemed like her consciousness might slip away. But gritting her teeth, she held steadfast and rose to her feet. Many of the others were still standing, some were even still fighting, and Claire refused to be ranked among the inferior.


    She grabbed Boris with a vector and rose back into the sky. She was nearly thrown adrift by another blast, but she transferred her momentum to a grain of sand blown in from the crowned wolf¡¯s desert.


    The particle ripped straight through the wolf that chased her skyward. It didn¡¯t die, but she couldn¡¯t be bothered to finish it. Her eyes still set on the vector dog, she extended her wings and prepared to navigate the storm. Alas, she made no progress.


    A trio of flashes filled her vision, each brighter and heavier than the last. The perpetrators were picking up the pace, skyrocketing the rate of their exchanges.


    Not every trade resulted in a shockwave. For the most part, Zottsgarb was dancing around his foe, never attacking even when he clearly had the chance. Even blocking seemed fairly low on his list. He only did it as a last resort and otherwise spent his time toying with the dog.


    The tomfoolery lasted until she grew wrathful enough to tear off her tails. By increasing the speed and strength of her blows, she had finally forced him into blocking more often.


    They were so fast that Claire¡¯s eyes struggled to catch them. Their weapons were blurs. She could make out their rough motions, but all of the nuance was lost to their ridiculous acceleration. It was like their startups led straight into their recoveries. If not for the shockwave and their billowing magics, the moments of impact would have been imperceptible.


    Flashy as the battle was¡ªthe magic that accompanied their strikes literally tore apart their realms and returned them to the mountains¡ªit lasted but for a moment. In roughly fifteen seconds, they traded well over a thousand blows. He gave his beak for one of her eyes, while she sacrificed her jaw for one of his wings. A nose for a leg, an arm for a wing. Over and over their weapons drew blood, until the final exchange.


    Both fighters stabbed each other through and fired blasts of magic from the tips of their weapons. The wounds looked fatal, but both monarchs got back to their feet and took up their arms again regardless.


    For a moment, that was how they stayed. They stood on guard, ready for the inevitable exchange. But then, the rooster laughed and the wolf collapsed.


    ¡°Lesson. Instructed. Lunacy. Proven.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, shut up, shut up!¡± cried the wolf.


    ¡°Maybe. When. You. Victorious.¡± With how bloody their minions¡¯ battles had been, Claire had expected the masters to opt for execution. But despite emerging victorious, the chicken simply sheathed his sword and sat down beside the cut-up dog.


    ¡°Prize.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s in the usual place,¡± grumbled the wolf. ¡°Just you wait. I¡¯ll get you next month.¡±


    ¡°Good. Luck. Will. Need.¡±


    Claire continued to watch them for a few seconds before assuming her tiniest form and starting towards the north. The way they spoke like old friends had tickled something in her chest. She couldn¡¯t help but feel like she missed her fox, and even some of the others.


    There was still much to learn under Zottsgarb, and she had yet to earn his approval. But meeting the chicken¡¯s gaze, she found herself greeted with a nod. He smiled with what was left of his beak, and with a light brush of the remaining wing, created a gust that sent her on her way.


    He seemed to know it as well.


    It was time for Claire to go.


    She didn¡¯t offer her thanks. She didn¡¯t say goodbye to any of the other disciples either. Simply setting her eyes upon the distant peaks, she soared beyond the horizon.

 Chapter 440 - The Festival and the Skyward City

    Chapter 440 - The Festival and the Skyward City


    Both the chicken¡¯s flatland and the wolf¡¯s great desert vanished altogether as Claire pumped her wings. Her loose northbound trajectory was matched with a gradual increase in height. She was nearing the clouds, stepping into the danger zone where she might be readily attacked, but Claire didn¡¯t care. Her most recent killing spree had brought her right up to the level 850 wall.


    She had heard of how difficult growing further became, but she was still surprised by the cliff¡¯s slope. It had only taken three one-tailed wolves to go from 849 to 850. But despite having killed twelve of them since, she was still only a tenth of the way through the 850th level. And that was against a set of foes on the cusp of level 4000. It was no wonder so many gave up as soon as they reached the threshold. If all the publicly known facts were to be believed, it would only get even harder¡ªshe needed tougher prey.


    That was half the reason she rose. Claire had already fought some of the most powerful fliers thanks to their presence among the rooster¡¯s ranks. She felt like she was ready to challenge them and explore for herself the world that lay above the sky. The other half, the more important half, was that the elevation allowed her to take in the soundscape.


    Raising her ears overhead, she closed her eyes and listened for distant voices. At first, she found nothing worth noting, only the distant flapping of wings, the roaring of monsters, and the booms that came with their battles. It wasn¡¯t until she channeled her divinity into her ears¡ªthey held it almost surprisingly well for some inexplicable reason¡ªthat she was able to paint a clearer picture.


    Whether said picture was better, however, was entirely up to debate. It was a mess of noise. She heard everything from the distant footsteps to the whistling winds in what almost seemed to be an infinite amount of detail. The stimulus was so strong that her head soon started to ache¡ªa problem that persisted until she routed another stream of divine force straight into her mind and invoked one of the phantom¡¯s techniques. Suddenly, everything became clearer. The whole world slowed to a crawl and provided all the time she needed to compartmentalize the necessary information. She was practically cheating, but she didn¡¯t really care. She was only using her divinity for a parlour trick. It wasn¡¯t like she was exploiting it in battle.


    Fair or not, the enhanced hearing and processing allowed her to sort through the data and determine that her fox¡¯s voice was coming from three different directions, three distinct locations each over a mountain away. She wasn¡¯t too sure if the copied Sylvias were able to communicate with the original, but depriving her ears of their brilliant red glow, she headed in the closest echo¡¯s direction.


    It was well over a hundred kilometers away, but flapping her wings and pushing with her vectors, she cleared the distance in an instant.


    As she drew closer, she discovered that there was more than one copy. A small army of six hallucinated Sylvias was sitting just outside of a cave. Five of the somewhat translucent foxes were napping, while the last was lazily humming a tune. Either way, all of their eyes were closed.


    Her tail flicked in time with the song¡¯s beat and kicked up a spray bit of snow exactly seven times for every six seconds that passed. The gesture was so adorable that Claire didn¡¯t immediately descend. She took a few seconds to observe before opening a gate beneath each phantom. They each led straight into her arms¡ªit was the perfect chance to hug all of the Sylvias at once.


    Alas, the scheme only ended in failure.


    Not a single one of the projections fell through. They remained floating on top of the dimensional tears without the faintest hint of movement. Only the most wakeful Sylvia reacted. Yawning, she slowly shook her head of its drowsiness before finally opening her eyes and examining the hole beneath her.


    She lightly pawed at the portal, staring for a solid few seconds before suddenly springing to her feet and directing her gaze towards its destination.


    Claire, however, was long gone. She appeared behind the echoed fox and pulled her straight into her arms. She couldn¡¯t actually touch the projection, of course, but she pretended to nuzzle her face into its side regardless. After all, it didn¡¯t take too long for the imagined sensation to become real; the echo was replaced with the original in a heartbeat.


    ¡°Cla¡ª¡±


    Which, of course, was the reason Claire squeezed even harder. She cut the furball short, took a deep breath, and enjoyed the sensation of her soft winter coat.


    ¡°Claire, I can¡¯t breathe!¡± said one of the echoes.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine. Breathing is unnecessary.¡±


    ¡°Maybe for you! You¡¯re literally crushing my ribs!¡± Despite her complaints, the fox settled into the embrace and even rubbed her face against the massive white tail wrapped around both of their frames.


    ¡°I know,¡± said the snakemoose. ¡°Bear with it.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°Well too bad.¡± Despite Sylvia¡¯s continued complaints, Claire continued to squeeze her for the better part of two minutes before she was finally sated enough to let go.


    ¡°What the heck was that for?¡± grumbled the ruffled furball. ¡°Oh wait! Is everything okay? Are you feeling funny?¡±


    ¡°Everything¡¯s fine.¡± Claire paused for a moment to lightly squish the fox again. ¡°Don¡¯t overthink it. I just felt like squeezing you.¡±


    Sylvia laughed. ¡°Gosh, Claire. You¡¯re so silly! You know you can just tell me that you missed me, right?¡±


    ¡°And I would have, if I really missed you.¡±


    ¡°You clearly do though!¡±


    ¡°I saw you three days ago. I don¡¯t see why I would.¡±


    ¡°Me either, but I missed you too,¡± said the fox, with a smile. ¡°I was probably gonna stop by again tonight, but I¡¯m guessing I don¡¯t need to anymore?¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°I¡¯m done training with the rooster.¡±


    ¡°Did you manage to impress him?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± She took a moment to direct her gaze northward. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure why. But it just felt like time to go.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I know! It¡¯s probably ¡®cause the goddess is calling for you,¡± said Sylvia.


    Claire tilted her head. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a really long story¡­¡± said the fox. ¡°But uhmmm, basically you¡¯ll find out if you clear this one really cool dungeon.¡±


    ¡°...Did Panda put you up to this?¡± asked Claire, after a brief pause.


    ¡°Kinda, but not really.¡± Sylvia assumed her fae form as she landed on Claire¡¯s shoulder and leaned into the nook of her neck. ¡°It¡¯ll start making sense soon enough.¡±


    Claire frowned. ¡°Okay. Fine. I trust you.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Giggling, the tiny foxgirl entrusted more of her weight to Claire, just in time for a yawn to escape her lips. It wasn¡¯t too surprising with the time being what it was.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°So? Where is this dungeon?¡±


    ¡°I can probably point it out if we get high enough, but that¡¯ll probably have to wait until tomorrow.¡±


    The sun was slowly starting to make its way beneath the horizon. Soon, the night would fall, and soon, the mortals that wandered the mountains would be transformed and forcibly grounded.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Claire, however, had found a way to make herself into an exception. All it took was channeling her divinity through her mana veins. And doing just that, she started straight up. The clouds were in the way, present almost only to annoy her, so she grabbed the whole blanket and shoved it aside, burying it straight into the distant Ryllian sea and revealing the evening sky. If not for the falling predators, who began to descend as they assumed their nightly forms, the view might have been half decent. Climbing further was the only way to circumvent the flood.


    And so she went, higher and higher, until the mountains no longer obscured the view.


    Together with her fox, she watched as the sky gave way to a carpet of stars, as the sea sparkled beneath the day¡¯s last breath, and as the divine collective claimed the winter goddess¡¯ realm as their canvas.


    She was so high up that even Cadria was visible off in the distance, its bright city lights shining just strongly enough to ascertain its continental presence.


    ¡°Is it just me, or is Amrinia even brighter than usual today?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°I can¡¯t tell if it¡¯s just ¡®cause we haven¡¯t seen it in a few weeks.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s probably because of the winter fe¡ª¡±


    The lyrkress opened her eyes wide and slowly closed her mouth.


    ¡°Uhhhmmm¡­ Claire?¡± When Sylvia traced the lyrkress¡¯ gaze, she found it turned on the moon, which to the fox at least, meant little to nothing at all. ¡°Are you okay? Why¡¯d you suddenly freeze up?¡±


    ¡°We should wait a few days before heading off to the dungeon,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Mmmnn¡­ okay, I guess?¡±


    ¡°I promised Marie that I¡¯d visit during the festival,¡± explained Claire. ¡°And there aren¡¯t too many days left.¡±


    ¡°Wait, does that mean we get to go back to town?¡±


    ¡°Only if you promise not to tell the others.¡±


    ¡°Done!¡±


    ¡°Then I guess we have a deal.¡±


    A soft smile on her lips, Claire quickly put on her usual disguise, ripped open a portal, and stepped out onto the road leading up to the city. Her sudden appearance startled some of the local wildlife, as well as one of the merchants on his way south, but Claire ignored them and continued on her way.


    The guards that stood in front of the gate eyed her from afar, but flashing Virillius¡¯ medal saw them silenced; they immediately opened the gate and let her through without so much as verifying the item¡¯s authenticity. And in fact, if they tried, she probably would have found herself in trouble. Seeing no reason to take it with her, Claire had left her real medal inside of the hotel room. The fake she had shown was a reproduction she fashioned with her runecloak.


    Whatever the case, she made her way through the gates and into the city.


    Even from afar, they had been able to see its bright lights through the evening¡¯s powdery white snow. The light didn¡¯t just come from torches and artifacts glowing all around the city. The water that lay beneath the city emitted a beautiful blue-tinted light. The bright, almost godly illumination made it look as if the moon itself had been captured in the river that lay beneath the city¡¯s liquid base.


    And in fact, it was. The terraformers had been configured to create an artificial sky beneath the surface of the lake, and wherever the concept of sky appeared, so too did the moon thus follow.


    Every single structure was lit by the rising light, illuminated from below. The resulting shadows were more striking than eerie. The scene¡¯s natural, venerated, temple-like beauty was only amplified by the artifacts that hung beneath the city¡¯s floating structures.


    It wasn¡¯t like they were haphazardly placed. Someone had gone out of their way and very specifically arranged them to better highlight the lower levels that served as the primary festival grounds.


    ¡°Holy crap,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Where the heck did all these people even come from!? I swear there were like only half as many last time we stopped by!¡±


    Centaurs were haggling with merchants while cottontails threw fresh vegetables onto the grill, picked directly from the city¡¯s supporting reservoir. The vast majority of the thorae were asleep in the winter, hibernating in deep caves beneath the snow, but there was the occasional oddball out and about, joining in all of the singing and dancing that filled the town square.


    ¡°Most villages don¡¯t have the resources to throw grand festivals,¡± said Claire. ¡°So they gather in the nearest cities instead.¡± Her eyes flickered to a stall packed to the brim with handicrafts. The main features were baskets and trinkets, particularly those fashioned from a sort of glimmering pink stone. ¡°It¡¯s a good chance to make money. But most people just want to have fun.¡±


    ¡°I guess it does look pretty fun,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°But it¡¯s also totally different from the winter festival in Vel¡¯khan. It uhmmm¡­ just doesn¡¯t really seem as organised.¡±


    Claire smiled. ¡°That¡¯s because it isn¡¯t. The people who run these things are idiots.¡±


    ¡°Huh? I thought you guys were supposed to be like, super organised and stuff. You know, ¡®cause of how militant things are?¡±


    ¡°Usually, yes.¡± The moose turned a corner and dodged the city¡¯s vibrant, party-laden center. ¡°Want to come to the manor with me? Or would you rather hang out in town?¡±


    ¡°I''ll just tag along since I was thinking of napping in your hair anyway. You can just wake me up when you''re done. And then we can go check out the festival.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± Claire tickled the tiny fairy¡¯s chin before opening a small hole in her helmet and allowing her inside. It felt a little awkward when Sylvia used one of her ears as a stepping stone, but she soon dismissed the sensation and set course for Postumus manor.


    Surely enough, she could hear the clinking of glasses and the cackling of nobles from all the way down the street. The marquisate house was in the midst of throwing a party, as they just likely were on every other festival night.


    After a moment of consideration, Claire decided to approach as would a guest.


    She quickly threw together a carriage made of ice and ordered Boris and Starrgort to get up in front and pull it. The two weapons exchanged a pair of glances before following through. Turning into a pair of horse-shaped weapons was far from the craziest thing that Claire had asked them to do. And as the horses had front-mounted cannons, it proved surprisingly possible; the system allowed it without so much as a moment of processing. As for Claire, she figured that the easiest way to address the whole situation was to simply go as herself. She momentarily changed the ice¡¯s precise composition and dyed it a deep, opaque blue, before morphing into her smaller humanoid form and turning her armour into an in-fashion dress.


    It wasn¡¯t like the red slit dress that she had worn to Pollux¡¯s decapitation, but rather a full halterneck ballroom as pure as the driven snow. She wore golden accessories lined with milky white pearls, and for the occasion, she even made the exception of throwing on a pair of heels. Her headdress was made up of three parts. She had the usual overly intricate ear cuffs presented alongside a diamond-studded tiara, the tips of which were adorned with sapphires to match the glow of her eyes.


    After checking her reflection in the ice and throwing on a pair of gloves for extra decency, Claire ordered her pets to march right up to the Marquis¡¯ front gate.


    ¡°Halt!¡±


    She had her family¡¯s crest carved straight into the side of the ice, of course, but the guards¡ªa group of about ten burly men¡ªstopped her regardless. To nobody¡¯s surprise, their faces were marked with visible suspicion.


    ¡°Please identify yourself,¡± said one of the soldiers.


    ¡°Must I truly go through the trouble? Claire frowned. ¡°I am Claire Augustus, Lady of the King¡¯s house and the princess of this nation. Surely, this nuisance is unnecessary? I was made to understand that my presence was expected.¡±


    She could tell, even without seeing their faces, that the guards weren¡¯t convinced, at least not until she lowered one of the windows and stared straight at the guard who had called for her identification.


    There was no way for them to have recognized her face.


    Her ears, however, effectively spoke for themselves.


    ¡°P-princess!?¡± The unit¡¯s commander, a particularly beefy centaur whose hat and moustache were slightly more impressive than his peers¡¯, was the first to respond. ¡°Please excuse our discourtesy, Princess. We will be with you in a moment.¡± He put up a fairly composed front, but he immediately spun around and whispered to the man beside him. ¡°Was the princess on the invite list?¡±


    ¡°How the hell am I supposed to know!?¡± the soldier whispered back. ¡°If she is, she¡¯s late! The ball¡¯s been going on for a whole week!¡±


    ¡°Oh, for fucks sake, man! Can you imagine the shit you¡¯d be in if she heard you?¡± scolded the commander, who was clearly not aware that Claire could hear him perfectly. ¡°Stop fucking picking at shit and go check the invite list already, goddammit!¡±


    ¡°Right away, Sir!¡± said the peon. He rushed inside of the guardhouse. The man was certainly quick, but not quick enough. There was already a note sitting on top of the ledger by the time he entered the building. Marked with the stamp she¡¯d stolen off her father¡¯s desk, it was forged in his handwriting to suggest the receipt and acceptance of an invite from the house¡¯s lady.


    It was clearly out of place. Even half a moment of thought would have sufficed to determine that it did not strictly amount to an invitation, but if the guard¡¯s panicked wheeze was anything to go by, putting two and two together was completely beyond his means.

 Chapter 441 - Reign of the Crowned IX

    Chapter 441 - Reign of the Crowned IX


    The south-western part of the Langgbjern range was one of the few locations frequently explored. Unlike the Cadrians, few of whom ever ventured too deep into the mountains, the western alliance¡¯s members sent regular expeditions up north.


    It was not because they were more competent, nor because they were more brave. Nay, the western alliance was simply desperate.


    As a collection of small nations ruled by way of council, they were absolutely terrified of the superpower that dominated the northeast. Cadria was a looming threat. They knew that the crown sat in competent hands at least, but there was no way of telling when they would slip and let loose the hounds that lived along their border. In fact, there were frequent skirmishes, tiny conflicts among the frontier that both parties were happy to dismiss as mere brawls between the soldiers.


    To that end, the alliance joined Cadria in valuing strength above all. And to that end, the strongest of fighters were often sent north, forced to face crushing trials in hopes that some of them would return empowered. When the strategy worked, it worked well. It allowed their most powerful to break past the 850 wall and emerge as the chosen of some god or other. But it was far more common for none to return.


    Though the alliance knew nothing of the reason, the cause was most often the orniferin domain. Located just one mountain deep, the seaside territory was ruled by a race of crab-faced, sea-dwelling man-eaters. Together, they crowded a beautiful, frozen lagoon circling around a central figure adorned with an icy crown. Their massive, segmented bodies were clear beneath the waves. Like centipedes, they extended for dozens of meters, and like centipedes, their bodies were covered in legs.


    The individual limbs looked more like those of a shrimp or lobster. They were coated in a hard, yellowed carapace and placed to better their ability to swim. Compared to the rest of the deep dwellers¡¯ bodies, they were tiny, but each was long and sharp enough to run a fighter through.


    Their ruler was the most humanoid of the bunch. He was certainly a little bit smaller, measuring only about five meters long compared to the average of fifty, but it was not in his shape that his humanity was expressed. That particular crown belonged to the nature of his mind.


    He was vindictive yet compassionate, ever at odds with the vitriol that clouded his judgement. He knew only how to classify the foreign entities as friend or foe. And the most recent group to step into his territory was clearly one of the latter.


    It was a group of four, and none of their members were orniferin. That alone was evidence enough to warrant an assault. But the king¡¯s blood boiled, practically exploded out of his veins, when he noticed the corpse that their tiniest member had in hand. Measuring only a few centimeters across, the grey-tinted, eight-eyed shell was unmistakable. Even with the rest of its body removed, he could tell that it belonged to a child of his species.


    The king roared.


    Cycling water through his gills, he issued an order of extermination.


    Panda knew it well. He had watched many of the western alliance¡¯s parties struggle and fall against the thousand-legged crab-bugs. Still, he laughed it off, cackling as he vanished from the field and left the others to fight off the enemy that he had provoked.


    Despite his open criticism, he thought that they did quite well. Jules correctly evaluated that, though they lived in it, water was in fact their weakness¡ªhe pierced their defences with his blue magic before finishing them off with a mix of explosions and bursting steam. Krail, likewise, demonstrated the full extent of his growth with a wide berth of spells. He crafted a gargantuan magical circle with a rain of arrows before lifting his staff and commanding a stream of verdant mana to erupt from the ground. And that was only half the spell¡¯s function.


    After all, the old elf was an arrow mage.


    The mass of arcane might gathered in the sky above. Its shape was muddied at first, distorted by the constant additions to its mass. But eventually, it righted its form and became an arrow¡ªan arrow that returned to the earth as he lowered his staff.


    So violent was the resulting explosion that it nearly blew its caster away. He had to command the surrounding greenery to grip him by the waist and hold him steadfast.


    Though he was the only mage in their party capable of casting it, the spell was technically a joint effort, engineered with Allegra¡¯s guidance and some degree of input from each of the party¡¯s members. And all in all, it took almost half of his mana. Still, the result was worthwhile; he killed twelve of the seventy-odd orniferins caught in the blast and refilled his magic so he could do it all over.


    Lana was in the fray as well, swinging a wooden axe that she had crafted from an unlucky tree. It wasn¡¯t quite heavy enough to live up to her standards; she struggled to cut the crab bugs apart. Still, those who engaged her wound up completely destroyed. She crushed their faces with the weight of her swings and tore through their bodies with her careful, targeted slashes.


    They fought like a trio of champions.


    But the orniferin horde was endless.


    They crawled atop each other¡¯s corpses, scaling the mountains that surrounded their lagoon with blood in their eyes and fervour in their hearts. They stopped giving Krail time to cast, and using their fallen allies as shields, protected themselves from Jules¡¯ assault. Lana was the only one who remained effective. While the orniferins¡¯ hands were preoccupied holding up their fallen, she cleaved through their ranks and made for higher ground.


    The withdrawal lasted until the king cut them off. He skidded to a halt right in front of them, with his mandibles clacking and his black and yellow eyes alight.


    The wolf girl charged him first. Activating her domain, she did away with the distance and went straight for his throat. Her trajectory was perfect. Slowing down time allowed her to angle it between two pieces of carapace and deliver a strike straight to his flesh.


    And yet, her weapon shattered¡ªthe wooden axe broke to pieces as soon as it touched the crab king¡¯s body.


    Lana opened her eyes wide as she ducked under the pincer-smash that followed and countered with the butt of her broken weapon. But again, the once-polished Langgbjern wood was reduced to scrap.


    A pair of spells immediately rang out in support. One was a veritable stream of arrows, tweaked for more weight so as to push the orniferin away, while the other was a glowing orb. It came from neither the red or blue magic that Jules had long mastered, but his newly acquired yellow variety.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    While red commanded explosions and blue eroded things away, yellow combined electricity and arcane to produce the effect of electrolysis. In practice, it was a whole school of spells dedicated to altering a target¡¯s charge. And by setting both the orniferin and its armour to positive, Jules ripped the two apart.


    The bug-crab¡¯s carapace flew off its body as it was rejected by the flesh meant to hold it in place. It provided Lana the perfect opening to dig her heels into the snow, draw the weapon on her back, and cleave at the weakened monster.


    But again, the result was repeated.


    Her axe shattered; the wolfgirl was left devoid of weapons as fine metal shards flew in every direction.


    Sharing in the cleaver¡¯s fate were all of the arrows that Krail had crafted. Every single one exploded on contact and flooded the mountains with bits of wood and steel. Even Jules¡¯ spell quickly wore off. The polarity of its body returned to normal by the time it seized its shell with its pincers. Ignoring the magical bombardment¡ªthe red, blue, and arrow-based spells that pelted it throughout¡ªit put the outermost layer of its flesh back on and sprinted at the invaders again.


    First was Lana. It punched straight through her guard, snapped her in half with its claws, and sent her crashing into the side of the mountain with her guts spilling all over.


    Next, the king aimed his larger claw at Krail and gave it a quick snap. The elf threw up a shield made up of reinforced greenery, but the air bullets pierced right through and filled his body with holes.


    Jules was a little bit better off. Engaging his thrusters, he arced through the air and dodged a whole slew of snaps. Despite his best efforts, he was still too slow. The orniferin king appeared in front of him and punched straight through his shuttered shell.


    ¡°Oh, goddammit¡­ I should¡¯ve known that it was too damned early.¡± Panda grumbled as he watched the scene from the sky, descending only as the crab-bug moved to finish the clam with another strike.


    He knew that his Panda-like form would prove useless, so he became a muscular moose in the midst of his descent. As far as bodily specifications went, Constantius was quite weak for a Cadrian aspect. Both his front legs broke the moment he crashed into the orniferin¡¯s claw¡ªnot that it really mattered.


    The damage was passed right off to one of his familiars, namely an unlucky cockroach named Joe, who immediately exploded into a fine mist. It didn¡¯t matter that Joe had only three points of health, or that the amount of damage dealt was well into the millions. The hit that Constantius had suffered was immediately and inconsequentially negated.


    Confused but still enraged, the orniferin lashed out at him again. The claw rent the air apart, creating a massive sonic boom as it struck him, but all it amounted to was another dead cockroach somewhere on the other side of the continent. And so the same sequence was repeated, over and over again.


    Constantius ignored the attacks, grabbed all three of the fallen fighters, and teleported across the sky. Examining them again, he found new confidence in his decision to tame them in their sleep. Lana was still hanging on by a thread, barely, barely alive. Her vitality as a warrior-based class was the only thing that still kept her kicking. She could have long been back on her feet if she was specced to the Cadrian standard, but her regenerative abilities were poor for a high-level warrior. He would probably have to subject her to the usual initiation at some later point in time.


    Jules was a bit harder to evaluate, but Krail was clearly wounded enough that he would have died had the contract not bound his spirit. And technically speaking, his body was dead. His heart had already stopped, and his brain was damaged beyond the point of function.


    It was fortunate then that his soul had a fleshy blueprint conveniently engraved upon it. Copying the astral form back onto its physical counterpart, Constantius shoved his spirit back into its meat sock and called it a job well done.


    He knew that the god of death would be unhappy, but such was the privilege exclusive to tamers. There might¡¯ve been a small chance of failure had he needed to convince him that his life was not yet over, but it was hard to say. Elves didn¡¯t tend to care for Xekkur¡¯s rules.


    With Krail on the verge of stirring, Constantius walked over to Jules¡¯ shell and gave its lid a bit of a prod. To his surprise, it shot right open, with the clam inside shooting him a glare whilst holding in his guts.


    His expression loosened after a brief stare and became a clear look of confusion. ¡°Now hold on a goddamn second. Are you Claire¡¯s fucking dad?¡±


    ¡°Her uncle, technically,¡± laughed the moose. He paused for a second to scroll through his menus before leaning back and crossing his arms. ¡°You¡¯re pretty tough, huh? Never would¡¯ve bet on you still having half your health after taking a hit like that.¡±


    ¡°Mitigated it with yellow magic,¡± he said, with a cough. ¡°Bastard would¡¯ve ended me there if I hadn¡¯t.¡± By marking both his shell and the enemy¡¯s claw as being negatively charged, he had been able to heavily reduce the force of the incoming attack.


    ¡°Not too shabby for a guy without a brain.¡± Constantius shrank as he spoke, becoming a raccoon once more. It wasn¡¯t so much a choice as it was a necessity. The familiar¡¯s body couldn¡¯t handle much more, and he wasn¡¯t about to waste a somewhat functional pawn for no reason.


    ¡°Oh, fuck off,¡± said Jules.


    ¡°I was under the impression that Claire¡¯s uncle, or rather the king¡¯s brother, was meant to be a wanted fugitive,¡± said Krail, as he slowly rose to his feet.


    ¡°Yup, that¡¯s me,¡± said Constantius. ¡°I¡¯m the big bad moose who killed his own parents and arranged for the death of his sister-in-law.¡± He practically sang the words; his voice was melodic enough that everybody, including the barely conscious Lana, slowly blinked in his direction. ¡°You guys doing okay?¡± he asked. ¡°You¡¯re looking a little broke.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not even sure what that¡¯s supposed to fucking mean,¡± muttered Jules. ¡°Hell, I don¡¯t know what the fuck any of this is supposed to mean. I¡¯m pretty sure that shit ain¡¯t something you¡¯re supposed to say out loud, or even really at fucking all.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ a little slow,¡± said Lana, with some difficulty.


    Constantius took a moment to look at her before breathing a sigh, grabbing a potion out of nowhere, and splashing it over her body. She didn¡¯t quite heal up immediately, but the wound slowly started to sew itself closed.


    ¡°The fuck do you mean by that?¡± asked Jules.


    ¡°I think she means to say that he wouldn¡¯t have shown his hand if he really meant any of those things,¡± said Krail. ¡°It¡¯s likely his cover story, or at least the bastardization of the truth that he¡¯d rather we believe. Would that interpretation be correct, Lana?¡±


    The pirate nodded, prompting Constnatius to break into laughter.


    ¡°You guys have got it all wrong,¡± he said. ¡°The only reason I¡¯m telling you is because it doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s only really a matter of time before everything comes to light and my plans are far enough along that nothing you say or do can mess them up.¡± He twisted his lips into a demonic smile. ¡°The coins are on the table, friendos, and the dealer¡¯s running the clock.¡±


    ¡°See?¡± said Lana.


    ¡°See fucking what!? The bastard¡¯s clearly up to no good!¡± screamed Jules, with a wince.


    ¡°No, no, no, my dear pawn. You¡¯ve got it all backwards,¡± said Panda. ¡°I¡¯m up to all the good.¡±


    ¡°Motherfucker, you literally just called us pawns and flipflopped on your ow¡ª¡±


    ¡°You should really stop thinking about me and start thinking up a strategy,¡± said the raccoon, with a snicker. ¡°That thing I helped you run from? He¡¯s already on his way, and he¡¯s as pissed as you could imagine.¡±


    ¡°I guess a quick brainstorming session couldn¡¯t hurt,¡± said Krail. ¡°We should probably start by addressing Lana¡¯s situation. She¡¯s going to need a weapon if we wa¡ª¡±


    ¡°And¡­ pencils down!¡±


    A laugh on his lips, Constantius grabbed all three fighters and teleported beside the crabipede.


    Allowing them to think up a strategy well in advance would defeat the purpose of the exercise.


    They needed to learn to think on the fly.

 Chapter 442 - The Festival and the Skyward City II

    Chapter 442 - The Festival and the Skyward City II


    Claire toyed with her tail as her carriage rolled its way up to the manor¡¯s front door. She couldn¡¯t decide if she wanted to show it. Its presence was sure to stir up a commotion and introduce all sorts of inconsistency. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for the nobles that inhabited the northernmost lands to make their way to the capital; she had met many of them in person, and even those she hadn¡¯t knew that the only traits she had taken from her mother were her scales and eyes.


    To don the fifth limb would be to declare that she was an imposter. It would create plausible deniability for her northerly appearance¡ªanyone who claimed that they had seen could be easily refuted with the argument that she didn¡¯t match her description. If anything, she was tempted to stir the pot and leave her father with a headache and a half. But at the same time, it was just as likely to cause trouble for Rubia. If the argument and accompanying investigation was spun the wrong way, she could easily be outed as a homunculus.


    The solution was really quite simple. If she behaved in such a manner unbecoming of the princess, it would be impossible for anyone to think that Rubia was false, but that would involve doing away with her pride and presenting as a country bumpkin. Of course, she could have always intentionally left a trail of breadcrumbs that would allow anyone with a brain to pinpoint her as the fake instead, but she didn¡¯t trust the northern nobility to have such functional heads on their shoulders.


    With the unfortunate series of circumstances at hand, Claire was almost tempted to do away with the extra limb and simply pretend to be her old self. Or at least that was the case until she happened upon a much better idea.


    She took a few seconds to observe the two guards who were assigned to escort her carriage. Neither was particularly outstanding. One stood as the very epitome of an ordinary plainsrunner while the other was an average thunderhoof. If she had to guess, he was probably in his mid three hundreds at best, despite being the stronger of the two.


    Violence would perfectly serve her purpose.


    Grinning, she summoned a pair of Borises in the air behind them and clubbed them in the back of their heads. Knowing to mask their unconsciousness, she puppeteered their bodies with her vectors and guided herself to the manor¡¯s front door. She cleaned up the evidence in the meantime by magically retrieving the faked letter from the commander¡¯s pocket. It wasn¡¯t the easiest of tasks. Portals could only be constructed relative to her position; his constant movements put him at risk of having his heart removed, but by his lucky stars, he stopped briefly to yawn and allowed her the perfect chance to spirit the document away.


    For a moment, she considered waking Sylvia and asking her to help with her disguise, but as effective as it would have been to leverage the bard¡¯s illusions, she decided against disturbing the tiny critter¡¯s slumber.


    She used her runecloak instead, and with some difficulty, fashioned a wig that replaced her silky smooth locks with a series of reddish-brown curls. The sheer volume helped with hiding her ears as well. By tucking them in and pulling them back, she was able to obscure them and appear as would an elf. There wasn¡¯t much she could do about her eyes, but she placed a veil over her nose and hid the scales that covered her cheeks.


    With that, the disguise was mostly complete. The only remaining point of contention was the shard in her chest. It wasn¡¯t exactly identifiable for any of Cadrian origin, but there was a chance that it would out her going forward. A small frown appearing on her lips, she reluctantly sucked it back into her body just as the carriage reached its destination.


    Checking her outfit one last time, and nodding in satisfaction, she descended from the icy carriage and turned to her unconscious escorts.


    ¡°Thank you, gentlemen. Could you please take my coach to the stable? I¡¯ll be returning to retrieve it by the end of the night.¡±


    One salute later, and it was done. The two who served as her valets would fall asleep in the stables and find themselves scolded awake the next morning. So long as she remembered to douse their bodies in liquor and throw a few empty bottles their way, any evidence of her arrival would be dismissed as a fever dream¡ªa delusion shared by a group of untrustworthy guards who had drunken themselves to sleep on the job.


    Noting that Cadria¡¯s creed had proven itself true as usual, Claire greeted the guards by the front door with a nod and continued into the manor. She knew its halls well enough from her prior infiltration, but it wasn¡¯t as if she could simply march through. Fortunately, the centaurian manservant standing by the door was there precisely for that reason.


    ¡°Good evening, madame,¡± he said, with a bow. ¡°I am Sabinus, one of the butlers that serves House Postumus, and I will be your guide today. May I ask your name?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Noddanelf Redleaf,¡± said Claire, with an over-the-top, animated smile.


    The butler paused for a second before lighting up. ¡°Oh, I see! You must be one of the ladies with the Burmingnot company.¡±


    Claire kept her mouth shut and returned a brilliant smile.


    ¡°I will show you to the ballroom immediately,¡± he said. ¡°Unless there are some other destinations you¡¯d like to examine along the way? I would be happy to explain anything you wish, and I¡¯m sure the baths would be of special interest to a veteran craftswoman such as yourself.¡±


    ¡°The ballroom will be fine. Thank you, Lord Postumus,¡± said Noddanelf. She recognized the man in question. He was the second son of the Postumus family. While Mariabelle¡¯s husband managed most of the military-related affairs, his brother was entrusted with the domestic ones. It was precisely because of his continued efforts that the domain remained so well put together.


    ¡°Oh dear. I was not expecting you to see right through me.¡± Sabinus shook his head and chuckled. ¡°Though we have entertained quite a fair number of guests over the course of the past week and a half, you are only the third to recognize me, and the second to do so with such speed.¡±


    ¡°Recognizing faces is a key to keeping wheels and wallets greased.¡± The elf flashed a bit of a knowing smile. ¡°And Lord Postumus, yours is quite well known among those who deal and aspire to deal in luxury goods.¡±


    The centaur clutched his bell and laughed, allowing his ears to flop up and down as he kicked back his head. ¡°With executives like yourself, I can see that the Burmingnot company is sure to have a bright future. I will keep a close eye on your business going forward.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Lord Postumus. Your praise is greatly appreciated. Now, would you mind showing me to this ballroom of yours? I¡¯ve just been dying to meet your sister-in-law.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    The man extended a hand. And to Claire¡¯s dismay, etiquette dictated that it ought to be taken. Noddanelf¡¯s need for enthusiasm only made the whole thing worse. She not only took his arm with a smile, but glued herself to his body and pressed her chest against the side of his leg while flashing a picture-perfect smile.


    Sabinus accepted the development in joyful stride, not for a second suspecting that the woman by his side was contemplating a thousand different ways to violently repay him for the humiliation. As luck would have it, they arrived in front of a pair of grand doors before she could figure out a way to make him disappear without arousing suspicion.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Now you must forgive me, my fair lady,¡± said the so-called gentleman, ¡°but this is as far as I am able to escort you.¡± He reluctantly released her and took half a step away. ¡°I do pray that you won¡¯t forget the encounter we had on this fair evening.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I could never, Lord Postumus,¡± said Nottanelf, whose smile was clearly lovely and not-at-all murderous. ¡°I will never forget you.¡±


    ¡°Nor I you.¡± With one last smile, the nuisance made his way back down the hall and vanished around a corner.


    Claire brushed him from her mind just as quickly and focused on fixing up her dress. It had gotten ruffled in the preceding incident, and more importantly, she hated the fact that the man¡¯s putrid cologne seemed to stick, but she was able to free herself from the scent by quickly shifting and unshifting her runecloak.


    Only when she was fully sanitised did Claire open the ballroom door and slip inside. Fortunately, most eyes were on the dance floor. Unfortunately, it was because the lady that Claire had set out to speak to had taken centre stage.


    The silly horse was dancing with her husband. She was surprisingly graceful for a mare with less than fifty levels, but next to her thrice-ascended lover, she may as well have been a cow. The criticism was commonly whispered by those in the crowd, but none said it loud enough for it to reach the couple''s ears. The Postumus house was one of the northland¡¯s most powerful. To make enemies of its head was little if not an act of social suicide.


    Though the resulting fallout surely would have proven hilarious, Claire chose not to whisk their voices in the older Postumus¡¯ direction. She remained on the sidelines, lazily awaiting the dance¡¯s completion as she picked at the grand buffet.


    She earned a fair number of stares from interested parties looking to name her, in spite of the veil that covered her face. Some of the bolder individuals even tried to approach, explicitly making their way in her direction after spotting her across the room. In both cases, her response was unchanged. She blended into the crowd and slipped away, minimizing attention as best she could.


    The younger Postumus had already provided all the bones she needed to throw a disguise together, but Claire had never heard of the company he suggested, and she couldn¡¯t be bothered to gather the information necessary to perfect the lie. She opted to maintain her elusive approach instead, weaving to and fro until Mariabelle finally stepped off the dance floor.


    But even then, she was kept waiting. Hiding the sneers that had come with their snarky remarks, the other ladies swarmed the marchioness. They heaped praise and gossip upon her as they each made their bids to become her best friend in name. They spent about twenty minutes pestering her, stopping only as she excused herself for a moment of fresh air.


    Rather than walking out onto the balcony, which had more or less become a cesspit for unfaithful couples to arrange their affairs, she slipped out the ballroom¡¯s front door and ventured elsewhere in the manor. It seemed like she planned to use the restroom, so Claire waited outside with her arms crossed and her back against the wall.


    At first, she was content to leave it at that, but she soon decided that it was just a little too boring and opened up a portal directly in front of the doorway.


    Surely enough, Marie shrieked like a banshee when she stepped out of the bathroom and fell out of the sky. Claire cast a spell between stifled laughs, and stopped Marie after just a few meters of falling. Any more, and the mare would probably have stained her dress.


    ¡°Claire!¡± Marie screamed her name before she could even lay eyes on her silhouette.


    ¡°How did you know it was me?¡± asked the lyrkress.


    ¡°You are the only person I know who would even begin to consider a prank this insane,¡± she said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t.¡±


    Marie awkwardly tried to swim over, stroking with both her arms and legs, but the motion amounted to nothing. All she got was a chortle from Claire, who dragged the poor horse back up to her starting height with a vector.


    ¡°So?¡± asked Marie. ¡°What¡¯s all this?¡±


    ¡°One of my abilities,¡± said Claire. ¡°Nothing too special.¡± She floated back into the manor and pulled Marie inside before closing the portal behind them. The centaur¡¯s dress and hair had both been messed up by the freefall, so she immediately stepped back into the restroom.


    ¡°Of course not.¡± Marie rolled her eyes. ¡°How long have you known how to do it?¡±


    ¡°A while.¡± Claire pulled up one of the chairs and sat her old maid down in front of the mirror. ¡°Let me.¡±


    ¡°Do you even understand the mechanism behind a braided crown with a loose top knot?¡±


    ¡°It can¡¯t be that hard.¡±


    ¡°It is much more more difficult than it appe¡ª¡± Marie froze, her face turned pale.


    ¡°Is there a problem?¡±


    ¡°My hair is moving by itself!¡±


    ¡°I know. Now sit still. Stop shuffling around or I¡¯ll mess it up.¡±


    The retired maid frowned, but she eventually straightened her shoulders and focused her eyes on the mirror. Her old charge slowly, carefully arranged the strands of her hair with both her magic and fingers at once to form precisely the shape that she had previously sported.


    ¡°See? It wasn¡¯t that hard.¡±


    ¡°I was not expecting you to be quite so skilled,¡± said Marie.


    ¡°I play with my fox¡¯s hair sometimes.¡±


    ¡°You mean the one that you had back then?¡±


    Claire smiled. ¡°Yes. That one.¡±


    ¡°How is she doing?¡±


    ¡°Fine. She¡¯s napping in my hair right now.¡±


    Marie paused for a moment to eye the lyrkress¡¯ giant, frizzy wig.


    ¡°She can shrink,¡± explained Claire.


    ¡°Right.¡± Marie stood up and reached to straighten out her dress, but she found that the job was already done. When she looked Claire¡¯s way, by staring through the mirror, the halfbreed only flashed a playful grin and backed away from her seat.


    ¡°The preparations are complete, my lady. You are my finest work, beautiful enough to steal the spotlight and the prince¡¯s heart alongside it.¡± Her tone and expression were solemn by the time she opened her mouth. Removing the wig, donning a pair of glasses, and adjusting her own hair into a bun, she bowed precisely as would the perfect maid.


    ¡°It still bothers me that you are better at that than I am,¡± grumbled Mariabelle.


    ¡°That, my lady, is because you have yet to perfect the art of elegance. Perhaps this would have been less of a problem had you paid more attention during etiquette class.¡±


    Marie groaned. ¡°Please stop that. You are beginning to remind me of my tutor.¡±


    ¡°At least yours wasn¡¯t as awful as mine,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Right. Lady Decimus was demonic.¡± Marie smiled and moved towards the door, but she spun around instead of pushing it open. ¡°How long do you intend to stay?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be in town until the festival ends,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Have you made any plans?¡±


    ¡°Not yet.¡±


    ¡°Then perhaps we could do something together? I have little to do in the mornings, and there are a fair number of events.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve had my eye on spearfishing, which I think is supposed to be tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Claire. ¡°Where do you want to meet?¡±


    ¡°Where are you staying?¡±


    ¡°Tower Seventeen.¡±


    ¡°Ah, that place. It is quite the nice inn,¡± she said. ¡°I will arrange to have you picked up in the morning.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Nodding, the lyrkress threw on her usual suit of armour and opened a portal back into town. ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow.¡± And just like that, she was gone.


    Mariabelle was left to sigh by her lonesome whilst reflecting on her friend¡¯s behaviour.


    It was as she had known all along.


    Claire was nothing if not her father¡¯s daughter.

 Chapter 442.5 - The Girl, the Ghost, and the Gift

    Chapter 442.5 - The Girl, the Ghost, and the Gift


    A tiny noble lady sat in front of a mirror several times her height with her face twisted into scowl. On most such occasions, she would have been accompanied by a maid, and while her expression was certainly tangentially related to the number of servants at hand, it stemmed in no part from any sort of displeasure. After all, it was specifically at her request that she had been left by her lonesome.


    Her lack of a partner for the upcoming ball was of even less significance. There had been a point in the past where suitors would line up the moment they heard her house¡¯s name. But if anything, she very much preferred the status quo. Romance wasn¡¯t of much interest to her. She had neither the ability nor the desire to birth some silly nobleman¡¯s heir.


    But while many of her admirers had grown reluctant to express their interest, she knew she still captured their eyes. Men of all ages shot her the most perverse looks whenever they were given the chance, and there was even the odd woman who would secretly do the same. One might have assumed that her childlike appearance would serve as a deterrent, a shield from their lustful stares, but all the signs seemed to point at exactly the opposite phenomenon.


    Her complete lack of feminine features was precisely the sort of novelty that had old aristocrats feeling blood in their loins anew. It had taken her a fair number of encounters to work out the malice veiled behind their facades. And still, she struggled to determine the most appropriate response. Rubia simply lacked the intuitive understanding of people that Claire had quickly developed. She¡¯d certainly tried¡ªshe dedicated much of her offtime to practice and remediation¡ªbut the ability continued to elude her.


    Most of the behaviours she¡¯d exhibited were pulled straight from Claire¡¯s memories, silently repeated without much of the certainty or purpose that the original had often possessed. And even then, she suspected that her imitation was lacking. Hence, the mirror.


    She carefully tweaked the scowl as she switched between it and the usual cold stare. It wasn¡¯t just the final product that required her explicit attention. The process of getting there was equally as difficult. The problem was her body¡¯s composition. Her flesh was devoid of structure. She was made up of nothing but slime and any apparent muscle movements were faked in their entirety.


    It wasn¡¯t much of a problem during the usual day to day. She was able to get the motions more or less correct, and her clothes helped to mask any minute distortions. The few oddities that did go noticed were attributed to the incident that supposedly left her bedridden and voiceless.


    The same excuse couldn¡¯t be used for her face. People paid careful attention to her expression and would certainly grow suspicious if she messed up her movements. A single desynchronized bite in the midst of dinner could very well blow her cover entirely.


    Thankfully, the extra chore was something she only had to consider during mealtimes and major events. Her supposed cursed wounds warded off the need to speak, and Claire¡¯s inexpressive nature allowed her to get away with relying on her default expression. In truth, she probably could have gotten away with maintaining the cold, expressionless look throughout the event, but the real Claire had always loved to play tricks on those who earned her ire. When no one else was watching, she would often return the lechers¡¯ stares with her eyes cold, judging, and dismissive. She occasionally followed each such stare later in the day with an intentionally out-of-character greeting, joyful and expressive as that of an innocent foal, just to further befuddle her foes.


    There was also the odd occasion where she would follow through on her more vindictive thoughts and greet those she particularly detested with obvious contempt. Humiliation was a weapon she was happy to wield. And without the ability to speak, it was only through her expression that Rubia could ensure any such indignity delivered.


    Of course, simply sitting in front of the mirror by herself wasn¡¯t going to do much good. She could only see her face from so many angles, and she was often uncertain if any discrepancies had arisen. It was fortunate then that, despite the lack of servants, she wasn¡¯t left entirely alone.


    ¡°The muscles themselves were correct that time, but you were a little too tense.¡±


    The voice belonged to the three-headed spirit sitting atop her head. Though she was strict and frankly a little mean spirited at times, Farenlight was incredibly helpful. The pair had met a few weeks back, after the hydra had discovered that she could freely manifest within the homunculus¡¯ reach. She was distant at first, but the pair had become fast friends.


    ¡°Was that better?¡± asked Rubia, after repeating the motion.


    ¡°Better, but it still wasn¡¯t quite perfect,¡± said Farenlight. ¡°Your lips were fine, but Claire wouldn¡¯t have furrowed her brow as much.¡± Using her tail, she pulled on the sides of Rubia¡¯s face and fixed her expression. ¡°You see? Most of her scowls are a little more subtle.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Rubia gave it another attempt, making sure to pay careful attention to her brow. ¡°I think I got it.¡±


    Farenlight paused for a second before flicking her tongue. ¡°I think you might¡¯ve paid a little too much attention to your brows. Your lips settled on the right shape, but they sharpened a little too quickly. I doubt most people would notice.¡±


    ¡°But you noticed,¡± said Rubia. ¡°That means it isn¡¯t good enough.¡± She tried it yet again whilst recalling precisely the sort of oblivious fool that she might greet with such a look.


    ¡°You got it just right that time,¡± said Farenlight.


    ¡°Okay.¡± Rubia repeated it five times, just to make sure, awaiting a nod from the snake for each before moving onto the next. Farenlight¡¯s nods were particularly cute. She alternated between her heads for the first three iterations, but knowing that there would be exactly five, used all of her heads for the remaining two. Apparently, she never quite felt right if any of her heads were used more than any of the others.


    ¡°That should wrap up the scowls. What¡¯s next?¡± asked Farenlight.


    Rubia tilted her head, her eyes still on the mirror and her expression fully reset. ¡°That was everything, I think.¡±


    ¡°Have you finished studying?¡±


    ¡°I did all my assignments in the morning.¡±


    ¡°Sounds to me like you¡¯re free until dinner.¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Yeah, I guess I am!¡± The homunculus¡¯ ears twitched excitedly, almost wagging like a pair of tails as she looked between the bed and the balcony. It wasn¡¯t everyday that she had the opportunity to spend a whole afternoon doing whatever she pleased. ¡°What should we do, Farrie?¡±


    ¡°Whatever you feel like,¡± said the hydra, with a bit of a faint, motherly giggle. It was the sort of display that she wouldn¡¯t have been caught dead showing Claire. ¡°I¡¯m fine with anything.¡±


    ¡°Oh! I know!¡± Rubia lifted her arms and spun around, her summer dress fluttering as she practically pranced her way over to her desk. The silver ornaments that adorned the frilly one piece jingled as she moved, but she paid them no mind. It might have been an expensive piece of art whose cost was high enough to make the average citizen pale and faint, but the homunculus was so oblivious to the dress¡¯ worth that she didn¡¯t even consider putting on an apron before sliding open the bottommost drawer and grabbing an empty palette. She ran into the hall soon after and flagged down one of the maids, who immediately ran off to grab her some paint after noting the item she had in hand.


    In the meantime, she returned to her room and started humming as she set up an easel and grabbed a blank canvas. She didn¡¯t stop until Farenlight poked her in the cheek with her tail¡ªa silent reminder that the maid would soon be returning.


    Rubia placed both hands over her lips and took a moment to calm down. Such incidents had become more common as of late. Visiting her sister each night had instilled a habit of breaking into a song whenever she was happy. Claire herself had spent the better part of each evening indulging in such behaviour. Sometimes, she¡¯d even sing her way through an entire dungeon.


    Knowing that she¡¯d probably get carried away if she started sketching, Rubia wistfully stared at the charcoal pencil on her desk whilst awaiting the maid¡¯s delivery.


    Thankfully, she didn¡¯t have to sit around for long. The centaurian servant¡ªRubia couldn¡¯t quite recall her name despite seeing her everyday¡ªquickly brought all of the necessary implements, threw an apron over Rubia¡¯s shoulders, and even poured her a fresh cup of tea before leaving the princess to enjoy her time of leisure.


    Rubia immediately locked the door and activated the soundproofing magic built into its mechanism. Only after checking that everything was working did she sprint back to her desk, grab her pencil, and happily plop herself down in front of the canvas.


    Her ears continued to bounce excitedly as she sketched out the scene in her mind, her hands moving in sync with the tune that escaped her lips. There was a bit of a discrepancy between the song she¡¯d picked and the image that her illustration depicted, but she continued with gusto regardless, stopping only once to drain the delicious cup of tea.


    Always one of her most liked classes, classical art had transformed into one of Rubia¡¯s hobbies as soon as she mastered the basics. The paintings she produced were good enough to be hung up around the castle, but she preferred to keep them tucked away in her drawers so she could look at them whenever she needed something to fix her mood.


    On that particular day, her sketch revealed a scene that only Farenlight was capable of correctly interpreting. It showed a three-headed reptile sitting on a bed and fiddling with a controller, with one head focused on the TV in front of her, one dozing off, and the last gazing out the window.


    Most of the picture¡¯s light came from the electronic device, leaving much of the room nearly faded to black. But even though the details were difficult to make out with so many shadows worked into the sketch, she still found them easily identifiable.


    Many of the shelves sported toys, plushes, and mascots, but the rest held the same pornographic books that lined the phantom¡¯s bookshelves. Farenlight almost wanted to avert her gaze, but she couldn¡¯t deny that she¡¯d been curious enough about their contents to scan them whenever the phantom was asleep or absent. Even with her continued exposure, she didn¡¯t quite understand why so many of the books were illustrated, or why they were written in a foreign language the phantom was barely capable of parsing. It was just as confusing as the relative abundance of creatures that existed in Mara, but not the realm in which the books had been authored. Asking the phantom was obviously out of the question. Farenlight didn¡¯t particularly hate the man, but she couldn¡¯t stand his constant presence. It was precisely because she wanted to escape his domain that she had learned to manifest near Rubia in the first place.


    Nodding all three heads at once, Headhy¡ªFarenlight returned her attention to the canvas and found that the scene outside the window had already been sketched.


    The world beyond the glass revealed not the fantastically standardized neighbourhood, but a wide cityscape that sat amidst the evening rain. The lights that dotted the high-rise apartments were electric as opposed to magical, and many rooms were painted a bright yellow, with shadowy figures behind the curtains going about their business. Others were darker, with only the faint light of a screen shining through their cheap vertical blinds.


    There were even rooms with window ACs, humming and spinning as they pumped cold air into the inhabitants¡¯ homes, and large stores on the ground level with neon signs to highlight the particulars of their business. Though most were written in English, some bore the same strange characters that adorned the phantom¡¯s literary collection.


    So too were there floating vehicles all over, darting through the rain, while birds, cats, and even rabbits hid under the balconies and alcoves to escape the late spring shower.


    Farenlight opened her eyes wide, blinking rapidly as she tried to process and dissect the scene. Even with three brains at work, it took the hydra a moment to determine that it had been extrapolated from a background pulled from one of the phantom¡¯s games and filled with imagined detail. Even then, she didn¡¯t think it made much sense.


    Claire had crossed the scene maybe once during a particularly long session, and even then, it was an undetailed mess, drawn in only sixteen bits and approximated onto a phosphor coating by way of cathode ray projection. And yet, Rubia had brought it into reality, manifested it in far more detail than Farenlight could have ever imagined.


    But again, it was only to the three-headed lizard that it made such sense. To the maids, to Rubia¡¯s tutors, it probably would have been seen as an abstract construction, something that made as little sense as her inability to speak aloud.


    Still, the homunculus proceeded unbothered. Grabbing her brush, she mixed the dark blues she needed to mark the buildings¡¯ exteriors and layered them atop her work. She filled in the lights with a melange of whites and yellows, resorting to pinks and greens only to colour the signs. And then, selecting a much smaller brush, she filled in the raindrops, leaving smears across the glass, before finally colouring in the hydra that was the picture¡¯s main feature.


    With that done, she lifted the brush to her chin and tilted her head, only to add a small black cat to the canvas. Only then did she nod and fill in the rest, humming happily under her breath all the while.


    The sun had already started to set by the time she put down her brush. There was still much to add, like all of the details of the hydra¡¯s scales, as well as individual bits and pieces on all of the buildings to better differentiate them, but Rubia was happy to call the first draft complete.


    ¡°What do you think, Farrie?¡±


    ¡°Some of the brighter parts might be a little oversaturated. You¡¯ll need to dim them a bit, to account for the lack of natural light. But overall, it¡¯s wonderful.¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡± Rubia happily wagged her ears as she dropped her palette in the cleaning bucket. ¡°I¡¯m glad you like it.¡±


    Farenlight smiled. ¡°What brought this on all of a sudden anyway? Painting me, I mean.¡±


    Most of Rubia¡¯s work featured the world as seen through the eyes of her sister. She copied distant landscapes, bloody battles, and recently, even scenes from the Langgbjern mountains. Were any scholars to learn of the snowy scenes¡¯ identities, they surely would have been scrutinized so that the mountains could be better charted. Alas, there were few who would have considered the claim even if it were to be stated.


    ¡°I wanted to make you a present,¡± saud Rubia. ¡°Since we¡¯ll have been friends for a full month, as of tomorrow.¡±


    One of Farenlight¡¯s heads bawled and a second brightened and shied away, while the last simply did her best to match the homunculus¡¯ brilliant smile.

 Chapter 443 - The Festival and the Skyward City III

    Chapter 443 - The Festival and the Skyward City III


    Claire took a moment to scan the scenery as she emerged from her portal and stepped onto an empty bridge. Though polished like a work of art, it served no special interest or purpose. It stood simply as one of the many white-stoned walkways that guided the city¡¯s denizens along to their destinations.


    The polish stemmed from no additional effort on the citizens¡¯ part. The conditions set by the terraformer were stable. No dirt or grime was allowed to persist for any longer than six hours. Filtered by the same cleaning system, the water that lay beneath the city was clear, glimmering beneath the moonlight as the fish skirted to and fro. Even the ugliest among them were prizes in every right. Their iridescent scales reflected the starry sky and sparkled like gemstones beneath the water. On an average night, their habitat would have been undisturbed, still as a statue, but one of the bards in the town square sent massive, undulating waves rippling its surface. Rather than using his voice, as did most others of his class, he drummed his gigantic belly instead, creating deep, reverberating booms that echoed throughout the darkness.


    ¡°Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m u¡ªow!¡± The tiny fairy tried to get up and stretch as her name was called, but all she managed was to bang her head against the top of Claire¡¯s headgear.


    ¡°Sorry.¡± Claire laughed before removing the uppermost part of her helm and allowing the vixen to climb out into the open.


    ¡°What the heck was that for!?¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t on purpose. I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d get up so quickly.¡±


    ¡°I was bored and waiting,¡± huffed the foxgirl. ¡°You took way longer than I thought you would.¡±


    ¡°Did you think I was just going to storm the castle?¡±


    ¡°...Maybe.¡±


    ¡°I might¡¯ve. If I didn¡¯t have to worry about Rubia.¡± The snoose removed the armour from her tail and petted her favourite dog with its fluffy tip. ¡°How do you want me to make it up to you?¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ maybe you can start by buying me a drink?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not.¡±


    ¡°Why the heck not!?¡±


    ¡°Because you get drunk too easily and you immediately lose control every time you do.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s ¡®cause cutting loose is fun.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re never not cutting loose.¡±


    ¡°Oh shush!¡±


    ¡°You first.¡± Smiling, Claire swung her legs over the bridge¡¯s balustrade and turned her eyes upon the heavens. It was an awfully beautiful night, made even more entrancing by the storm raging beyond the city¡¯s confines. At some point, it had turned from a light flurry to a full-on blizzard that perfectly obscured the world beyond it. ¡°This place almost reminds me a little bit of Skyward Spire.¡±


    ¡°Now that you mention it¡­ I think we could probably make one big tower if we grabbed all the pieces floating around in midair and shoved them together.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a great idea,¡± said Claire. She leaned further back and looked up at the city¡¯s scattered platforms. ¡°Especially if I did it overnight.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ Claire?¡± Sylvia blinked. ¡°I was just kidding.¡±


    ¡°So was I.¡±


    ¡°Somehow, I seriously doubt that,¡± muttered the half-elf. ¡°You looked like you were about to jump straight in the moment I said go.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°I know you know that isn¡¯t true.¡± Sylvia breathed a sigh before lying back down and spreading her arms as wide as they would go. ¡°You really don¡¯t need to make anything up to me. I¡¯m happy enough already.¡±


    ¡°Then I won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°What the heck!? You were still supposed to offer!¡±


    ¡°Too bad.¡±


    Claire suddenly spread her wings and started off into the sky. She scanned her surroundings again to make sure that no one was looking their way before removing her armour and donning a dress. It wasn¡¯t the pure white halterneck that she had worn to Mariabelle¡¯s party, but a long body wrap that went all the way down to her ankles.


    ¡°Uhmmm, are you sure that¡¯s a good idea?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine. No one¡¯s looking.¡± Claire lifted the fox girl with a vector and pulled her into the air beside her. Though she didn¡¯t say a word, Sylvia grew to her full size as soon as Claire extended her hand. Taking it in her own, the fox intertwined their fingers clasping them together even as her tail jittered to and fro.


    And then, together, they fell up. Slowly, almost like a feather making its gradual descent, they drifted into the moon¡¯s embrace. Never accelerating, they continued to meander until they reached the inn¡¯s elevation. Claire spread her wings wide and slowly brought them to a stop while unlocking one of the balcony doors. It took the caldriess a moment to remember which room was hers, but she soon retrieved her wallet from her desk and fished out a fistfull of cash.


    One flick later, and the dagger-shaped coins were gone. She sent them out the window and into the world so they could be replaced by a series of goods she¡¯d spotted in town. For that, she had to leverage her divinity again. She pumped it back into her ears and traced the city in her mind. The resulting scenes were every bit as clear as they would have been had she been present in person to see them.


    She watched as one of the street vendors tried to chase down the grilled steak that floated away on a plate, only to suddenly find himself struck by a coin. She watched as a particularly confused chef dropped to his knees and prayed to the god of death. And she watched as the owner of a panicked foot cart sprinted to the nearest guard station while screaming something about a brain-eating baboon.


    Not everyone was quite so attentive. The vast majority of the merchants she traded with were completely oblivious to the fact that they had made a sale. One particularly keen guard did notice that there were a few pieces of food floating mysteriously through the air, but Claire nipped the problem in the bud by way of concussive memory removal.


    It took about ten minutes for her to finish assembling the meal. Most of it came from travel time; not all of the dishes could be mindlessly accelerated without being ruined.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t feel like eating on the go with a helmet,¡± she said, as she neatly placed everything on an invisible table made of vectors. ¡°I grabbed everything that seemed like it might be tasty.¡±


    ¡°They do look pretty good...¡± Sylvia took a seat on a chair as invisible as the table and immediately grabbed one of the fried fish off of the nearest plate. ¡°Is it just me, or do these look kinda familiar?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re the same fish that live under the city,¡± said Claire. ¡°A lot of them were harvested for the festival.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no wonder!¡± She gave the meal a tentative sniff before throwing it into her mouth. ¡°These are pretty good. A lot better than I thought.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll have fresh ones tomorrow,¡± said Claire. ¡°We¡¯re going fishing. Do you want to come?¡±


    ¡°Uhmnmm, is it okay for me to come?¡±


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t it be?¡±


    ¡°I just thought that I should probably keep out of it, since you were meeting up with an old friend ¡®n stuff.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes before floating over the table, grabbing the fox-elf¡¯s cheeks, and stopping her midchew with a stretch. ¡°Stupid, stupid fox.¡±


    Sylvia opened her mouth to mount a defence, but a pinch of the nose cut her short.


    ¡°Stop setting weird boundaries. You¡¯re invited because I said you are. Now stop worrying.¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Mmk.¡± The half-elf smiled shyly. ¡°Then I guess I¡¯ll tag along. Fishing sounds fun.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be a lot more fun than the fishing we did in Vel¡¯khan, at least.¡±


    ¡°Yeah! Wait, really?¡±


    Claire smiled.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ now I¡¯m getting worried.¡±


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be. It¡¯s nothing special.¡±


    ¡°You saying that only makes me more worried!¡±


    Sylvia sent a pulse of mana through the air, but Claire rejected it with a simultaneous burst of divinity. ¡°No. Bad dog. No mind reading allowed.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on,¡± grumbled Sylvia. ¡°How did you even know I was gonna do it?¡±


    ¡°You couldn¡¯t have made it more obvious.¡±


    ¡°How!?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡± Claire set down the skewer that she was half done eating and wiped off her face. ¡°The biggest dead giveaway is your face. You always scrunch up your brow. Your ears start twitching and your tail stands as well. If we look at some of the more subtle things, a little bit of light always fades from your eyes, you¡¯ll suddenly start holding your breath, and you always bite down on your tongue.¡±


    ¡°Wait, really!? I give that many hints!?¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± said Claire. ¡°And that¡¯s without mentioning the way that your mana shifts.¡±


    ¡°Ugh¡­¡± Sylvia hung her head. ¡°Wait a second! Those are all things that I do while I¡¯m reading your mind. You¡¯d have to know ahead of time if you wanted to stop it!¡±


    ¡°That part just comes from you being easy to read in general.¡±


    ¡°What the heck!?¡± Sylvia puffed up her cheeks. ¡°You say it like you¡¯re any better.¡±


    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°You know it¡¯s true.¡±


    ¡°Prove it then.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why I should.¡±


    ¡°Because I said so.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mea¡ª¡±


    Sylvia¡¯s eyes opened wide as she found her lips captured by a familiar softness. It was only for an instant. But she was so ill-prepared for the sudden stimulation that the instant was enough to completely shut down her system.


    ¡°Told you.¡± Claire, on the other hand, was perfectly nonchalant. She immediately returned to munching on her skewer without missing a beat.


    ¡°T-that was just unfair!¡± cried the foxgirl.


    ¡°That¡¯s the point.¡±


    ¡°I-I know, but still.¡± Sylvia placed her head down on the table and buried it in her arms. ¡°You should warn me next time.¡±


    ¡°And I should also try to avoid mealtimes. Your breath tasted a little too fishy.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush!¡± Red as a beet, the fox opened up a portal beside the lyrkress and lightly thwacked her with her tail. ¡°Meanie.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to eat the rest of the fish if you don¡¯t stop complaining.¡±


    ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t!¡± Sylvia shot right back up and reached for the fishiest platter, only to find that everything was exactly where she left it. ¡°...You tricked me again.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Claire!!¡±


    With similar bits of teasing continuing throughout, it took the pair a little over an hour to finally wrap up the evening meal and another hour to clean up. Normally, such a task would be left to the inn¡¯s staff, but just like most everyone else in town, they were away from their duties and indulging in recreation. Perhaps they may have elected to return to work had they been aware of their guest¡¯s return, but Claire couldn¡¯t be bothered to put in any notice. It wasn¡¯t like she couldn¡¯t take care of herself.


    At least so long as she didn¡¯t have to cook, that is.


    ¡°Whew! Finally!¡± Sylvia stifled a yawn as she placed the last dish on the rack. ¡°Do maids really do this manually all the time?¡±


    ¡°They do. And they do it with elegant poise.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that even supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t let the water splash onto their clothes while they¡¯re scrubbing and they never perform any sudden movements. Everything is careful, measured, and rhythmic.¡±


    ¡°What the heck!? That¡¯s super strict for literally no reason!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not for no reason. They¡¯re professionals. Keeping up appearances is important.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure real professionals try to get things done as quickly as possible.¡±


    Claire shook her head as she pushed her way out of the kitchen and led her fox down the hall. ¡°Speed doesn¡¯t matter as much. You can always just hire more maids. They¡¯re basically just status symbols anyway.¡±


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­¡±


    ¡°Maids are expensive. Everyone knows that people with large gaggles have deep pockets.¡±


    ¡°I guess Cadrians just have way too many babies and nothing to do with them or something.¡±


    ¡°Cottontails, lamias, and thorae do,¡± said Claire. ¡°But elves and centaurian subspecies don¡¯t really have as many children at once.¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s the case, then how come most of the country isn¡¯t just a bunch of rabbits, snakes, and bees?¡±


    ¡°Centaurs tend to live longer, both on and off the battlefield. Elves are more or less a minority. Most of them immigrate because Cadria doesn¡¯t persecute them for their¡­ beliefs.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no wonder we¡¯ve been seeing so many of them,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°Where are we headed anyway?¡±


    ¡°The baths.¡±


    ¡°Oh, okay!¡±


    ¡°Of course you would agree right away.¡± The lyrkress prodded the fox¡¯s side with her tail. ¡°Pervert.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Where the heck did that come from!?¡±


    ¡°I always knew Alfred raised you wrong.¡±


    ¡°Is it just me, or are you making fun of me more than usual today?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just making up for lost time.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t even that long!¡±


    ¡°I know what I said.¡±


    Claire smiled as she opened a door and ushered her fox inside. The bathroom was split into two distinct sections. The piece closer to the door was almost styled like a public changeroom. There were three sinks in front of the mirror and a bunch of smaller, individual closets for people to place and hang their clothes.


    The only thing that was missing was a place to change in private, not that Claire was particularly concerned. She removed her clothing in a heartbeat and threw the runecloak, which had been returned to its usual form, onto the counter by the giant mirror.


    Sylvia threw off her own clothes just as quickly and dove into the bath, only to leap back up with a squeak.


    ¡°What the heck!? It¡¯s freezing cold!¡±


    ¡°What were you expecting?¡± Claire laughed as she walked up to one of the knobs on the wall and gave it a solid twist. ¡°You didn¡¯t turn on the heater.¡±


    ¡°Is that how that works?¡±


    ¡°Did you think the bath would just heat itself?¡±


    ¡°No. Er, actually¡­ maybe¡­?¡±


    ¡°Well it doesn¡¯t.¡± Claire took Sylvia¡¯s hand and led her back towards the water.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ are you sure it¡¯s warmed up already?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. Stop fussing.¡± Claire pulled the fox into the water, which had instantly started to steam. ¡°See?¡±


    ¡°That was kinda quick.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an artifact,¡± said Claire. ¡°It doesn¡¯t exactly heat the water the normal way. It uses magic to set its temperature. Silly fox.¡± She pushed Sylvia in front of her and wrapped her arms around her stomach as they settled into the water. She made liberal use of her tail as well and coiled it around their intertwined legs, locking them in place.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°This feels a bit awkward,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯m taller, so I think we should probably switch.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a fixable problem.¡±


    Claire grew to her full size. She still fit in the tub, but she displaced a bunch of water at once and put the bathroom¡¯s drainage system¡ªanother artifact that sucked up all of the water¡ªto work. Her long, scaled body was coiled around the fox¡¯s, positioning Sylvia as would a piece of prey. Though, of course, Claire was much gentler. She gave just enough slack for the serpentine embrace to feel more like a gentle hug than an attempt at strangulation.


    Curiously, not even in the position they were in did her moose senses go off. Though already in the palm of her hand, Sylvia continued to be marked as unkillable. Not that she wanted to try.


    ¡°See? Problem solved.¡±


    ¡°This feels super weird,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°The water is really warm, but your scales are kinda cool, so I feel hot and cold at the same.¡±


    ¡°You just have to complain about every little thing.¡± Claire rolled her eyes before turning back into a person.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it like that!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It was still nice, just weird nice.¡±


    ¡°Mhm. I¡¯m sure it was.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on¡­ I already told you I didn¡¯t mean it that way,¡± huffed the fox.


    ¡°I know. I was just messing wi¡ª¡± Her words were briefly interrupted by a deformation of the lips. ¡°With you. What was that for? Are you low on ultimate charges?¡±


    ¡°I did use a few while I was doing that one trial, but that¡¯s not what that was for! I was trying to catch you off guard,¡± said a very flushed Sylvia. ¡°How come it didn¡¯t work? I literally did the same thing you did earlier!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why it would,¡± said Claire. ¡°Even if it did work, you¡¯d be doing more damage to yourself than you are to me.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Why?¡±


    Claire blinked. ¡°You do realise we¡¯re naked, right?¡±


    Sylvia froze. Her face slowly ripened, turning redder and redder with every moment that passed.


    ¡°Stupid fox.¡± A giggle on her lips, Claire sank back into the bath and enjoyed the moment of peace.

 Chapter 444 - Reign of the Crowned X

    Chapter 444 - Reign of the Crowned X


    Chloe gulped as she stared down the imaginary jittern. Even just looking at it was enough to deter her and mark the act of rebellion as one of utmost stupidity, but it could only play second fiddle to its aura of death.


    Every few seconds, the pug¡¯s face distorted. Its jaw grew longer and its teeth more jagged. Its big, round eyes warped into a trio of narrow slits. But then, the warped facade would vanish, just as it finished burning itself into the back of her mind.


    She wouldn¡¯t have known how to approach it even if it hadn¡¯t carried the special trait. The guards had effectively defeated themselves, and she highly doubted that the same trick would work on a warrior prepared for battle. Still, she knew it was better to try. There was no other way she could possibly defeat an enemy above level 4000 in a proper duel.


    A flash of inspiration coursed through her as soon as she made up her mind. The jitterns clearly liked their ladies veiled, and Chloe had just the thing.


    Pulling a pair of her mistress¡¯ panties out from within her skirt, she unraveled the exquisite garment from its scent-preserving wrap while her opponent watched suspiciously and tied it around her face.


    Her whole body shuddered as the musky, briney scent flooded her lungs. She could practically hear her heart thumping out of its cage as her body temperature began to rise. For the briefest of moments, she nearly forgot that she was about to engage in a battle to the death. And when her senses returned, she found that she had fallen to her butt with her thighs squeezed together and her tail slowly sneaking its way under her dress.


    The heart-shaped mark etched beneath her navel¡ªthe tattoo that ascertained her identity as Alfred¡¯s chosen champion¡ªcame alight, almost glowing through her clothes as she lost to the urge to moan.


    An urge from which her observers were anything but exempt.


    They leaned forward, throwing themselves off balance to hide their reactions. Her face was red, but she could tell through the slits in their veils that theirs were even redder.


    Again, her racial ability was primed.


    And again, she opted for activation.


    All of the dog-men were charmed. Even some of the onlooking women that she hadn¡¯t quite meant to target were placed under her banner and made to obey. Giggling, the succubus turned into mist before appearing again beside the monarch. She placed his hand on her chin and lifted it, looking into his eyes as she traced her lips with her tongue.


    She could tell.


    His soul was about to be hers.


    But just before the process completed, just before she claimed his life, she found her plans disrupted.


    There was a feral howl as the ink-made pug shoved his sword straight through his loins. Impaling his own genitals, he weakened her control and launched into a staggering rush. The combination of her spell and his metal crutch threw him completely off balance and drained the majority of his speed. But even then, he was fast enough to threaten her off his master.


    She backed away immediately, but the pug closed the distance regardless and drove its fist towards her throat. She thought to dodge, but it didn¡¯t seem possible. There wasn¡¯t enough time for her to pick up enough speed to get out of the way.


    If not for her griffon, which swooped in for a full-body tackle, she surely would have been struck and slain. The ink-pug was driven through the building. He plummeted to the building¡¯s ground floor, crashing through all sorts of pillars, supports, and pieces of furniture on the way. Still, his body refused to yield to the cat-bird¡¯s rush.


    The two pugs that Chloe had enthralled and slain rushed onto the scene as the griffon flapped away. With one of its limbs broken, it couldn¡¯t quite take off, but it stumbled out of the doorway regardless and returned to its master¡¯s side.


    At a glance, it looked like Chloe¡¯s servants held the clear advantage. Drawing their swords, they charged through the storeroom and prepared to end the fallen ink monster, but he rose from the rubble as the first closed the distance and countered its swing with a bob and a weave. His fist tore straight through the thrall¡¯s neck and removed its spine, but the vampiric servant kept moving. The satyr was long dead. It felt no pain, and none of its commands came from its logical center. The corrupted blood that filled its veins compelled it to continue attacking.


    And yet, it was ineffective.


    The ink dog grabbed it by the wrists and twisted its sword from its fingers, stealing the weapon just in time to cut down its approaching partner. Even off balance, even stumbling and disoriented, the warrior continued to serve.


    And that was precisely why he fell to its knees.


    Finally, the poison naturally secreted from the griffon¡¯s talons had worked its way through his body.


    Blood clotters. Muscle relaxants. Heart stoppers. Nerve wreckers. A full array of the deadliest substance the dead cat-bird could possibly produce.


    Even combined, they failed to kill the ink-dog outright. He still reacted when the griffon swooped in. With a heavy overhand strike, he split the thrall in half and ended it in a single blow. But again, his competence guided his failure.


    The bottle that the griffon carried in its chest was also split in two. And its contents spilled all over the false pug¡¯s body.


    His chest practically exploded. The ink monster¡¯s pectoral muscles vanished beneath an eye-popping layer of fat. His newfound breasts measured over three meters in every direction. The monster was strong enough that the extra fifteen thousand kilograms of body weight wasn¡¯t enough to throw him off balance.


    Or at least that would have been the case had his feet still touched the floor.


    Alas, his pug-based nature rendered his limbs too stubby.


    He immediately got to tearing at the massive lumps of excess fat, but not before Chloe leapt on his back. His flesh was surprisingly malleable for something so high level. With just a little bit of effort, she managed to work a dagger through the back of his neck. Chloe continued to strike at the monster¡¯s head, thinking that he might regenerate, but much to her surprise, the initial stabbing had already secured its death.


    Out of breath, she leapt back up onto the roof and faced the jittern king, who had watched over the battle in something of a trance. She started walking towards him as she considered all of the experience his death was sure to yield. She immediately reprimanded herself for the thought¡ªshe wasn¡¯t Claire¡ªbut still, she found herself falling victim to temptation. If she exterminated the jitterns, if she cleared out their population, she would have a solid chance of acquiring her next ascension and earning the strength she needed to protect Arciel from the hunters.


    She felt a tug on her dress just as she psyched herself up to make an honest attempt. Looking towards it, she half expected another pervert hoping to see her legs, but all she found was Panda.


    ¡°Relax,¡± he said. ¡°Greed gets the rug pulled from under your feet, and he isn¡¯t going down so easily.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Right. Yeah.¡± Chloe forced a laugh as she put her daggers behind her back and hid them beneath her skirt. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    Still smiling awkwardly, the succubus undid her charm as Panda vanished and watched the warriors snap out of their stupors. It wasn¡¯t like they were strictly free from her seduction. The racial ability was predicated on the presence of lust. It was precisely because she aroused them that she could seize her enemies by the balls.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    What returned with the ability¡¯s undoing was the half of their mind that presided over logic and restraint. Allowed again to put their brains to work, they finally recalled that their lives held purpose beyond serving the demon before them.


    All sorts of reactions arose from the unchained warriors. Some looked at her in horror, their faces pale and their blood free from their loins. Some collapsed where they stood and emptied the contents of their stomachs. And some continued to stare, still, or perhaps even more entranced despite knowing that she had nearly stolen everything they had to offer.


    There was an oddball who fell to his knees and prayed, as well as another who stared intently at the bulge between his pants and slowly lowered his maw. One particularly strange figure even started bashing his face against the roof while two relatively sane servants stopped a sobbing lady from plunging a knife into her neck.


    The crowned warrior was the only one who retained his dignity, casually rising to his feet and approaching Chloe with a glint in his one visible eye.


    ¡°So tricked were our loins, by the lure of thy nectar, thy true vorpal blade.¡± The white-robed pug laughed as his words blended reality with verse. ¡°Though potent thy scheme, though mine crown was presented, thy mercy shone through.¡± Removing his hat and exposing his ugly, flattened face, he pressed the headwear to his chest and bowed. ¡°Theodore I art, sovereign of this hallowed land, seventh of the crowned.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Chloe,¡± said the maid. ¡°Loyal servant to the queen of Vel¡¯khan. I simply wish to pass through.¡±


    ¡°A fervour like flame, a will as strong as struck steel, a heart pure as gold.¡± The pug smiled one more time before returning his hat to his head. ¡°To thou will I yield, and offer thee mine blessing, a tranquil night¡¯s rest.¡±


    Chloe shook her head. ¡°I really appreciate the gesture, but I don¡¯t have the time. I need to keep going, quickly as I can.¡±


    ¡°Worry not thyself, for with mine gift bestowed, the quickest of steeds. With hooves like thunder, swift as a coursing river, and soft as a cloud.¡±


    The maid hesitated at first, but after noting that Panda was not appearing to advise, she reluctantly went with her gut and accepted the jittern¡¯s offer.


    ___


    Olethra lazily shifted her eyes towards the corner of her vision and confirmed the system¡¯s time as she continued to wait in front of Flitzegarde¡¯s door. The line itself had long been vanquished. It had been three full days since the old, owl-like fellow in front of her had wrapped up his business and gone his merry way. But the portal showed no sign of opening.


    She had no choice but to sit around and wait, completely bored out of her mind with little to do but watch as her companions worked themselves to the bone. Every once in a while, she stepped in, and offered her assistance by either repopulating the monsters in the areas around them or mapping out their optimal patterns as determined by the system. She leveraged that same system to pump the mountains full of variants, an act that drove many of the weaker predators southwards in turn. Though not exactly Vella, nor really capable of giving a growth-relevant blessing, she had dramatically bolstered their rate of advancement.


    Had she the ability, she very well may have bolstered their levels directly, but Flitzegarde, the system¡¯s creator, was the sole entity with the requisite authority. All of the other gods had to go through the quest and achievement systems, all of which would actively validate that the payouts conformed to the usual guidelines.


    As dictated by the goddess of order, risk and reward existed in strict proportion. There were but two acts that allowed for the rule to be broken. The first was for a god to grant a boon¡ªa blessing that would empower a mortal of choice. Its sole cost was a smidgeon of divinity, with the precise amount depending on the strength of the blessing. Though the divine energy was sure to quickly regenerate, and though there was no strict requirement, most gods preferred to avoid the exception and demand a task from the blessed.


    The other method was to crown a champion, but it was widely considered to be riskier and more restrictive. Given the costs, one did not simply thoughtlessly empower a mortal. Or at least, that was the expectation. Olethra herself had engaged in such tomfoolery just a few months prior, though she was fortunate enough for her champion to have fallen over immediately¡ªit was by remaining active that a champion proved most expensive.


    Each marked creature would temporarily lock out a portion of the god¡¯s divinity. The precise value scaled with the amount of power bestowed upon the individual in question. At the very least, the mark had to be strong enough to double the target¡¯s overall proficiency, and if too weak, it would grow proportionally without any input or permission from the god in question. One such parasite was the strict limit for any who thought themselves sane.


    It was impossible to remove a mark without express approval from the goddess of order, and a mistake in one¡¯s judgement was not on the list of acceptable justifications. It only made sense. After all, marking a target was effectively no different from sharing a piece of one¡¯s dominion. In the odd case that the deity had less power remaining than any of the blessed, it became possible for a champion to wrest control away from their patron and seize their might for themselves. The phenomenon was more typical when a god was spread much thinner, and fortunately, all marks would expire from those who turned from aspects to celestials, but there had been a few odd cases back in the day where as few as two particularly powerful servants proved potent enough to topple a weaker deity.


    Not even Olethra was quite as weak as the deities in question, but neither was she delusional enough to rank herself much higher. She didn¡¯t dare mark the party, especially after going so long without fulfilling her role.


    Everyone but Sophia was on the verge of becoming an aspect. Another few days, and they would be eligible to take on their patrons¡¯ trials and transition into the realm of the quasi-immortal. Though, it was difficult to say how they would fare. Lucius was especially reliant on his god-given gear. His deity was unlikely to flip the switch lest he proved himself worthy.


    The others were a bit better off, but Olethra was under the impression they still needed to put in a fair bit of effort if they wanted to cross the line. They simply lacked the raw power, and even if they had it, they remained entirely devoid of divinity. They would be weak, pitiful aspects without any chance of further ascension¡ªa stark contrast to the man they would be sure to anger by hunting the prey of their choice.


    It was right as she began to contemplate their success that the door in front of her finally opened. A sigh of relief on her lips, she quickly informed her companions of a brief absence, closed all of her menus, and stepped into Flitzegarde¡¯s domain.


    The tanned, feline goddess awaited her not in the sort of temple in which she often greeted her mortal visitors, but a random spot in the middle of outer space. She was surrounded by panels on all sides, all of which were populating with data at an impossible speed. Olethra could barely enumerate the panels, let alone decipher their contents and appropriately fill in all of the necessary responses.


    ¡°Olethra.¡± Flitzegarde¡¯s voice was quiet, robotic, almost completely devoid of energy. It was only natural with the pity amount of work still left on her plate. ¡°I see that you have filed for a request to arrange for arbitration with a hostile party. Please understand that it is not within the realm of my ability to approve any requests outside of the system¡¯s prerogative for bad actors who forgo their duties. You have neglected yours for the past 9619 years, 4 months, 47 days, 14 hours, 7 minutes, 25 seconds, 1 millisecond, and 14 microseconds. Please spend at least this amount of time diligently performing your duties before making your request again.¡±


    The goddess of weights and measures winced. As expected, Flitzegarde was unwilling to compromise.


    ¡°Please also be aware that your arbitration request falls under section 14.963, article C, revision 8. Arbitration may not be leveraged with the intention of justifying an attack when you are aware that you are actively working against a hostile god¡¯s interests. You may file the request again under a standard request for negotiation, though, you should be aware that it does not demand a minimum level of cooperation. The other party will not be obliged to respond to your request or otherwise attend any appointments not mutually agreed upon.¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± said Olethra, with a sigh. It was a shame, but she had long figured that she would be unable to convince the goddess of the flow, even if she were to bring her suffering to the table.


    It was starting to look like avoiding retaliation would prove impossible.


    ¡°Thank you, Flitzegarde.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡±


    Olethra sighed and began to head out the way she came, but a vector tugged at her back before she could go.


    ¡°Please wait,¡± said Flitzegarde. ¡°All common algorithms for future sight anticipate that you are likely to attack the individual known as Claire Augustus regardless of whether you are able to earn Flux¡¯s approval.¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± said Olethra. ¡°What of it?¡±


    ¡°I strongly advise against this course of action,¡± said the holy housecat. ¡°In the circumstance that your assault proves to be successful as you have envisioned, your actions are likely to trigger a larger-scale conflict.¡±


    The duck-billed dinosaur opened her mouth, but Flitzegarde continued before she could so much as voice her question.


    ¡°At this time I am unfortunately incapable of elaborating in any meaningful manner without exerting any influence on the outcome,¡± she said. ¡°However, I will state that it is in both of our best interests for you to return to your duties posthaste.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll think about it once we accomplish our goal.¡±


    Flitzegarde narrowed her eyes. ¡°I will not be swayed by the pretense of possible labour, Olethra.¡±


    The younger goddess forced a smile. ¡°It was worth the attempt.¡±


    ¡°I would rather you refrained from wasting my time.¡± Her older counterpart shook her head and sighed. As she had previously computed, the goddess of weights and measures had failed to grow. Even allowed to venture as she pleased, her understanding of time was still bound by its once-mortal lens.

 Chapter 445 - The Hunter and the Hunted

    Chapter 445 - The Hunter and the Hunted


    Claire shut the curtains with a vector as she climbed into bed. Sylvia followed right behind her, silently pleading with her eyes until the lyrkress begrudgingly assumed her smallest humanoid form. Only then did the half-elf tackle her into the sheets with a giggle. The fox wrapped her arms around her pet¡¯s shoulders, buried her face into her hair, and got as comfortable as she reasonably could with their legs all tangled together.


    Despite being treated more like a stuffed toy than a person, Claire was first to fall asleep. Her mind vacated her body in a heartbeat and went on another one of its usual adventures. River-related incidents aside, it was only her third time returning to the void since they had set out for the Langgbjerns. She had spent most nights making some sort of progress, be it practicing her magic, preparing for the slaughter ahead, or simply climbing her way further into the mountains.


    Both other nights she slept, she was greeted immediately with the usual open doorways. She had expected to see the same result, but when she opened her eyes, she found herself in the midst of a dream.


    It was the usual setting. She was far above the clouds, sitting with a book in front of her while Allegra chatted away. Her first thought was to disregard the fictitious rabbit and wander about. The last thing she wanted to do was waste her night on a fake rabbit, but she stopped the moment as she spotted herself in the mirror. She was roughly Allegra¡¯s height.


    She must¡¯ve been around seven or eight. Finally, she had found her way into a dream that took place before her mother¡¯s death.


    Shooting to her feet, she dashed into the hallway while her tutor shouted after her. She probably would have run straight into a wall with how quick she was going had she not grabbed herself with her vectors and corrected her posture. Her wings and tail burst from her back, stabilizing her as she catapulted past the maids and through the manor.


    But upon arriving at her mother¡¯s room, she only found that it was empty, barren, devoid of its master. She tried checking some of her other usual haunts, but the courtyard, the garden, and her father¡¯s study were all just as empty.


    Her mother was missing¡ªremoved from the world outright.


    She slammed her fist into the wall, breaking straight through the supportive rock as she bit her lips. She almost wanted to cry.


    All she wanted was to see her mother¡¯s face.


    But the world refused to comply.


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s not the wall¡¯s fault you suck at using your powers.¡±


    The voice came from the likely perp¡ªthe reason she had even dreamt about her mother again in the first place. She knew it was Panda. But when she raised her eyes, she found a white moose, a towering man the same size as her father with his arms crossed and his back leaning against the wall. They were strikingly similar, so much so that she likely would have mistaken them had she not spotted his entirely disheveled hair and his offensively unsightly goatee.


    There was something about him that differentiated him from the panicked servants. It wasn¡¯t just his nonstandard reaction or his unusual form, but the very nature of his being.


    It felt like he was there. Really, genuinely there.


    ¡°Check the calendar. She¡¯s probably off at a party with your old man.¡±


    He was probably right. Her mother often stepped out during the summer to do her duties as the house¡¯s lady. And she had been unfortunate enough to see a dream devoid of winter¡¯s embrace.


    But while she certainly had those thoughts, they only lingered in her mind for so long before they were shipped away.


    ¡°You were the one who killed her.¡± Claire lunged without warning. Even in her dreams, Boris answered her call and entered her hands.


    ¡°God, I wish,¡± he said, with a laugh, as he caught her by the wrists. ¡°Can you imagine how your father would have reacted if I skewered her in front of him?¡±


    Claire paused. She froze for a brief moment before slowly lowering her lizard and meeting his cackling eyes.


    ¡°Did Father fall for that act?¡±


    Constantius clutched his sides, nearly falling to the ground as he broke into another fit. ¡°Claire Augustus, do you really think that this is an act? Are you really that stupid?¡±


    ¡°I''m better at reading people than he is.¡±


    The moose clicked his tongue, the delight vanishing from his face in a heartbeat. ¡°You¡¯re a real killjoy, you know that?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re an awful actor,¡± she said. ¡°And you seemed to have plenty of fun teasing me about my mother.¡±


    ¡°Wow, between the legs right out of the gate?¡± Panda massaged the bridge of his nose and shook his head. ¡°You know you don¡¯t have to be like that, right? It was all in the faith of some good old fun. And I wasn¡¯t lying.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°Get out of my dream. Don¡¯t talk to me.¡±


    ¡°You make it sound like I want to be here,¡± grumbled the moose-man. ¡°Only reason I am is ¡®cause I¡¯m getting paid to bring you a message.¡± He raised a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. ¡°Do not return by way of rift lest you wish to enable your enemies.¡±


    The lyrkress narrowed her eyes. ¡°From the goddess of the frozen wilds?¡±


    ¡°Who knows?¡± Constantius shrugged. ¡°My client never instructed me to divulge their identity. And unfortunately for you, their trust is a whole lot more valuable than yours.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like a lie.¡±


    ¡°Well it isn¡¯t.¡± Panda spun around and started walking down the hall. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s all you¡¯re getting out of me.¡±


    The man vanished as soon as he voiced the words, simply fizzling out as if he¡¯d never been.


    Claire paused for a few seconds to consider his words before looking to the nearest door and making an exit of her own. The manor was instantly replaced with the phantom¡¯s usual world. It had been a while since she visited¡ªshe didn¡¯t feel like she had much of a reason to return after completing his lessons in divinity¡ªbut she hadn¡¯t expected it to change as much as it had.


    Cracks ran through the realm. They almost looked like circuits, with bits of red and gold coursing through the glimmering rifts. The man was no different. Both his physical and astral forms were covered in the breaking lines. They ran through him, corrupting everything from head to toe. While his body was up to its usual shenanigans, she wasn¡¯t at all surprised to find his spirit collapsed against a wall, chest heaving up and down, as if gasping for air.


    He looked up when she approached, but his eyes were distant, completely out of focus. He wasn¡¯t looking at her. He had only reacted because he sensed some sort of presence.


    ¡°Who goes there?¡± he asked, weakly.


    Claire frowned. Perhaps, she wasn¡¯t the only one that her uncle visited. Either that, or she wasn¡¯t the sole guest to frequent his domain.


    Whatever the case, she elected not to voice her name. Speaking felt wrong as usual, but at the same time, he didn¡¯t seem to react when she lifted his hand with a vector and traced the letters that made up her name. In fact, he didn¡¯t even seem to register that his hand had been lifted at all. The withered phantom simply remained where he was, a line of drool slowly running down the side of his face.


    ¡°It¡¯s Claire.¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Eventually, she gave in and violated the silence. Her voice created another crack, a massive, jagged rift that ran from wall to wall. The whole building almost seemed to start leaning to one side with its advent, but so too did the ghost regain a little bit of his vigour. Coughing, he pushed himself up and rubbed his face with his wrist.


    ¡°Claire¡­¡± When he next opened his eyes, they were unclouded, purged of all their weariness. ¡°Right. Claire.¡± He grit his teeth and took a breath. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you.¡±


    ¡°You have?¡±


    There was another crack, another splintering of the world around them.


    ¡°This world is falling apart,¡± he said.


    ¡°I can see that,¡± she said, with a roll of the eyes.


    The third breakage was mirrored in his form. A large crack danced up his heel, stopping only as it stretched halfway through his calves. He balled his hands into fists and dug his teeth into his lips, but not even that was enough to stop the pained groan that escaped the depths of his throat.


    ¡°Oh, how long I¡¯ve waited,¡± he said, between laboured breaths, ¡°for your divinity to flow as readily as a river out to sea.¡±


    Claire tilted her head.


    ¡°That was the condition for this containment zone¡¯s, this prison¡¯s erosion,¡± he said. ¡°There are a few things you need to know. About this. All of this.¡± He stopped for a moment to wheeze. ¡°A long time ago, Flu¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°I figured you wouldn¡¯t.¡± The man chuckled as he pushed himself up into a better supported position. ¡°It doesn¡¯t really matter. Everything will be explained soon. Even if I don¡¯t have to say it.¡±


    ¡°I said, I don¡¯t care,¡± said Claire. The ground shook with every word that she voiced. Cracks ran up the walls and across the ceiling as bits of dust and debris rained over their heads. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you want, and I don¡¯t care what Flux wants. I¡¯ll set my own goals and decide my own future.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Claire.¡± The phantom nearly coughed out a lung as he broke into a hearty laugh. ¡°But that¡¯s exactly why we made you.¡±


    She frowned, frowned and kept silent.


    ¡°You should go if you don¡¯t want to hear the rest. I can¡¯t hold him back much longer.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. He has his sights set on me already.¡±


    ¡°Still.¡±


    ¡°If he tries anything, I¡¯ll kill him.¡±


    ¡°He is still a god, you know?¡± The man spoke as if to lecture her, but the grin on his face stood in stark defiance. ¡°And not one of the imprisoned fools that fell to Vella¡¯s blade.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±


    The phantom flashed his bloodstained teeth. ¡°I knew I raised you well.¡±


    He waited for her to nod before following through. With a snap of the fingers, all of the divinity that poured through the world¡¯s cracks was gone. The one place where all the cracks met began to splinter apart, bending and groaning beneath the weight of the claw that soon broke through the realm to reveal a massive lion standing in front of a bright blue sky.


    Almost like a liquid, he seeped through the cracks, assuming a humanoid shape only after pooling his essence atop the phantom¡¯s carpet. The olive-skinned beast stood roughly ten paces away, just inside of the door frame that his massive, muscular form couldn¡¯t have possibly fit through.


    ¡°Greymane,¡± snarled the cat-man.


    ¡°Kael¡¯ahruus,¡± said the phantom. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen your ugly excuse for a face in a long, long time.¡± He pushed himself up again and twisted his lips into a grin. ¡°How¡¯s all that lost divinity been treating you?¡±


    The lion said nothing, but he couldn¡¯t have made his rage more obvious. His fists were trembling, his teeth were buried in his gums, and his tail was standing on end. He very well might have blown a fuse had the phantom not degenerated into a coughing fit.


    But instead, he was given just enough time to look between the caldriess and the ghost.


    ¡°Interesting,¡± he said. ¡°This¡­ violates all of my expectations.¡±


    ¡°It probably wouldn¡¯t if you had more functional brain cells,¡± said Greymane. ¡°Or did we take those too, when we stole eternity from your grasp?¡±


    Again, the god was enraged. He was so mad that he lowered his stance and pounced.


    Blood filled the room as claw met flesh.


    But the god of the hunt was on neither end of the interaction.


    Kael¡¯ahruus skid to a halt in the middle of the room as he watched a talon emerge from the phantom¡¯s back. Though he had no body, though he had no form, the erupting hand was covered with a light blue plasma, the very ectoplasm that ran through the phantom¡¯s veins.


    Claire had struck him.


    Claire had slain him.


    Greymane laughed, cackled as his essence flowed through her circuits. His body started to fade. It shook to and fro, disintegrating right as he turned his lips to the god of the hunt and flashed a sated grin.


    The realm started to fade away as his body vanished. The cracks remained, but the world itself became an open savanna, a wide-open plain with golden grasses extending as far as the eye could see. There were a few bits of green, shrubs and peculiar trees whose leaves only lived near the top of their canopies. There were distant mountains, off upon the horizon. And then, there was prey.


    Every species ended by the god of the hunt was present, roaming its own section of the plains. Some were simple creatures, like the polka dotted elephants who flapped their ears overhead, and the towering lizards that sprinted on two legs. But others were more civilized. There were ancient cities built with techniques and materials that Claire had never once seen, ancient people speaking languages that she had never once heard, and ancient warriors sharpening their weapons for the beast¡¯s eventual return.


    ¡°You dare?¡± growled Kael¡¯ahruus. His eyes glowed gold, shimmering brightly beneath the morning light. ¡°That prey was mi¡ª¡±


    There was a sudden change in the surrounding vectors, but it was already too late by the time he noticed. A hole opened up in front of his throat, and a dagger, a frozen blade made entirely of true ice, came surging straight through.


    It snuck past his mane, ripped into his flesh, and severed his vocal chords, cutting him off mid-sentence. The god staggered backwards and clutched his throat. The wound was already healed by the time that the blade left him, but he kept his hand pressed over it as his face twisted in a mix of shock and rage.


    The mortal had struck him without a moment¡¯s hesitation.


    And her dagger had left its mark.


    It was the same reason that Claire had to fight back the urge to smile.


    Her last attempt at harming him had gone nowhere. Even when finding its mark, her blade had simply slipped right off of his fur. Not too much had changed since. Sure, she had gained a few levels, but that was the extent of it. It wasn¡¯t like she had ascended again or broken through any major landmarks. She wasn¡¯t even fully healed.


    And yet, his fur was stained, dyed in vivid crimson.


    A roar welled from within his chest, but again, he found his voice silenced. The very same knife that had claimed his throat ruptured his ribs and stole his breath.


    He furrowed his brow as he watched her draw the weapon from between his ribs. It made no sense. They were in his realm, the absolute domain where he was almighty, where his power could never be disputed. She shouldn¡¯t have been able to harm him.


    ¡°Are you stupid?¡±


    He never voiced the thought out loud, but she responded as if he had.


    ¡°This is my realm.¡±


    Another wave of cracks appeared in the world as she made the declaration. And then a second. And then a third.


    The savanna shook and crumbled as the lion began to shiver. And then, with a clench of her fist, it shattered, breaking into a thousand absurdly tiny pieces that rained like shards of a broken glass ceiling. It was ridiculous, absurd. But the plain became a mountain. The golden field became a blanket of snow, and the acacian wattle became a forest of pines.


    ¡°Be patient.¡± She smiled at him. It was a soft, almost gentle smile, like the sort that a child might have expected from a mother. ¡°Your turn will come after I end your champion.¡±


    She pulled her divine vessel from within her chest and departed the realm with a twist.


    Kael¡¯ahruus was left to hiss and snarl by his lonesome. She wasn¡¯t just irreverent. It was like she didn¡¯t even acknowledge him as a superior being. But while that certainly irked him to no end, it only came second to his restrictions.


    She had too many backers; even Flitzegarde had taken a liking to her. It didn¡¯t help that she was sworn to one of his enemies. The other gods would certainly convict him if he smote her without proper justification. And while he would have readily accepted the punishment and called it a fair trade, he knew that it wasn¡¯t. Flux would happily use the opening to finish him regardless of the punishment to follow.


    It was a shame that she wasn¡¯t a celestial. At least then, he might have been able to plausibly plead self-defense. Alas, as she was, it would be no different from accusing a mouse of threatening his life, even if said mouse had somehow shoved a knife through his ankle.


    Fortunately, he had the perfect opportunity to play by the rules. There was nothing stopping him from empowering his champion. He could bestow as many blessings and boons as he pleased if it meant preparing the hunter for a divine trial, and a duel with the demon that was his archnemesis was precisely the epitome of such a challenge.


    He would drown the man in fangs. If the bow was insufficient, he needed only to add a hunting sword and a throwing spear to his collection. And if even that still proved that it wasn¡¯t enough, he would simply need to bestow an ultimate ability.


    Something that could stand in defiance of even the gods themselves.


    Something that would allow him to become the ultimate hunter.


    It didn¡¯t matter if she had Flux¡¯s support. It didn¡¯t matter if she had Flitzegarde¡¯s favour.


    His apprentice would make her his prey.

 Chapter 446 - The Festival and the Skyward City IV

    Chapter 446 - The Festival and the Skyward City IV


    Claire escaped into the darkness of the void, carefully maintaining her composure as her heart threatened to burst from her chest. It was hard not to shiver. The man was strong enough for her senses to reject the very notion of his death even as she buried her dagger in his throat. He was only surprised by her lack of deference. Neither when she struck his supposed vitals nor when she perfectly read his thoughts did he seem the slightest bit concerned for his continued existence.


    She would have to deal with him eventually, but she set the problem aside and observed the slimy blue mass that still covered her bloodstained hand. It ignored gravity¡¯s prerogative and slowly crept up the length of her arm regardless of how she shook the limb or tore at the goop with her vectors.


    Slowly, one drop at a time, it almost seemed to sink into her flesh. She might have been a little more panicked had it felt foreign or hostile, but while the sludge certainly assaulted her mind, its influence felt strikingly familiar.


    The accompanying sensations were the same ones she felt when her shoulder animals manifested¡ªthe urge to kill and the urge to lazily consume brought straight to the forefront of her mind. But at the same time, they no longer stemmed from an external influence. Nay, the fiery ardor and the overwhelming lethargy both came from deep within, for they were never foreign.


    They were always hers, simply sealed away so they wouldn¡¯t control her before she could learn to handle them.


    Along with her urges returned her spirit sorcery. She had no idea how powerful it would be after so long without any use, nor did she know if her circuits could handle its activation. But while she was certainly curious, she refrained from giving the ability a spin. The last thing she wanted was to awaken the dormant puppets whose presences she had been happy to be without¡ªassuming their personalities had even persisted.


    Oddly enough, the goop almost seemed to relieve the dull aching pain ever present throughout her form. It wasn¡¯t the most significant reduction, but it was enough that she felt her breathing eased. Closing her eyes and praying to Fltizegarde confirmed a notable improvement; she was back up to about a tenth of her magical potential.


    Claire lifted the goop to her face and began to carefully examine its composition, but a series of loud, booming knocks pulled her from her slumber.


    The curtains parted right as she opened her eyes, revealing in the morning light a familiar uniform paired with an equally familiar face.


    ¡°Rise and shine, Claire!¡±


    Marie wasn¡¯t the only one making noise. The townsfolk were out and about, celebrating the winter solstice even though the sun had only just poked its way above the horizon. It was impossible to tell if they had been out all night, or if they had simply risen early to indulge in the festivities, but either way, they were in the midst of proving that it was never too early to drink.


    Some of the quieter attractions had also spun up. Though it was distant, on the other side of town, Claire was fairly certain that she could make out the local children playing some sort of game.


    ¡°Marie?¡± The lyrkress blinked. ¡°What year is it?¡±


    ¡°109845 as of a few days ago,¡± said Mariabelle.


    ¡°That was supposed to be a rhetorical question,¡± muttered Claire. ¡°And for the record, I would strongly prefer if you didn¡¯t invade my personal space wearing an outfit that your husband has clearly taken you in.¡±


    ¡°H-how did you know?¡± sputtered the mare.


    ¡°Why else would the lady of house Postumus keep a servant¡¯s dress around?¡±


    ¡°O-old times sake, perhaps?¡±


    The claim was met with a dry stare.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t look at me like that,¡± huffed Marie. ¡°How did you even come to that conclusion in the first place? What happened to the old Claire? The innocent little thing that I was waking up back in 109843?¡±


    ¡°She died after her father ordered her to kill herself.¡± Claire paused for a moment to assume her smallest form and sneak out of Sylvia¡¯s embrace. She was dressed in a casual outfit by the time she returned to her full size. ¡°And even if she didn¡¯t, she wouldn¡¯t have survived everything that followed.¡±


    ¡°Please stop,¡± said Marie. ¡°The whole tough girl act really doesn¡¯t suit you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fun.¡±


    ¡°You are being so overly dramatic that I am feeling second hand embarrassment.¡±


    ¡°Shush,¡± said Claire, as she averted her gaze.


    ¡°So you were aware?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Claire sat back down on the bed and gave Sylvia a gentle shake. ¡°Wake up. It¡¯s morning.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn¡­ in a bit,¡± she said, as she slowly shrank to her fox-fairy size. ¡°Five more minutes.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Claire lifted the tiny vixen by the tail and threw her onto her head.


    ¡°Is this behaviour¡­ typical?¡± asked Marie.


    ¡°More or less.¡±


    ¡°I think I am beginning to understand the reason you rejected all of the proposals that your father lined up.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking. It¡¯s not like that.¡±


    ¡°She was naked and in your bed.¡±


    ¡°She uses me like a stuffed animal.¡±


    ¡°My husband uses me the same way.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re overthinking it.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps this is the true cause for your loss of innocence then?¡± suggested the mare.


    Claire wrinkled her brow. ¡°Pervert.¡±


    ¡°I most certainly am not.¡±


    ¡°Care to elaborate on what you''re imagining right now then?¡±


    Mariabelle laughed. ¡°I don''t see why I should. I am well aware that you know exactly what I happen to be thinking, and you could ve¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªry well finish my sentences with ease. Yes, I know you tend to be predictable. But I don¡¯t know what that pervert of a marquis has done to corrupt your mind over the course of the past year.¡± Claire stretched her shoulders as she magically switched her nightgown for a winter dress and a cardigan. ¡°Oh, and congratulations on your one year anniversary.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± said the mare, with a smile.


    ¡°How much longer until your children are born?¡±


    ¡°How did you know?¡± Marie blinked. ¡°Wait, children?¡±


    ¡°I can hear three heartbeats, including your own.¡± Claire made a show of flapping her giant ears. ¡°Did your doctor not tell you?¡±


    ¡°I asked him not to divulge any non-critical details.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure he¡¯s not trying to mess with you?¡± Claire sat down in front of the mirror, and allowed Marie to do her hair. At least for the duration of the arrangement, she floated Sylvia into her lap and allowed her to do as she pleased. ¡°Don¡¯t bother with anything too complex. The stupid fox will probably ruin it anyway.¡±


    ¡°How does a side braid sound?¡±


    ¡°Perfect.¡±


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    ¡°Okay.¡± Marie ran her fingers through the lyrkress¡¯ hair before continuing. ¡°To answer your earlier question, I don¡¯t have any particularly close friends, but the servants have completely given up on bullying me. They have come to understand that I am the head of the house so long as my husband is not present.¡±


    ¡°Then why haven¡¯t you heard?¡±


    ¡°I doubt he thought it was too big of a deal,¡± said Marie. ¡°He¡¯s young enough that I doubt he has ever stopped to consider the preparation necessary to welcome a child.¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t sound like he deserves his position.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s really quite smart. He just¡­ doesn¡¯t have a lot of experience yet,¡± said Marie. ¡°His master, Doctor Candidus, was previously in charge of our house¡¯s affairs, but he unfortunately passed away on account of a freak accident involving an anal orifice and a shoe.¡± She took half a step back and looked over her handiwork. ¡°It appears to have turned out quite well, if I do say so myself.¡±


    Claire smiled awkwardly. ¡°No wonder Bea was in charge of my hair.¡±


    ¡°I tried my best, Claire! I could do without the backtalk.¡±


    ¡°And I could do with a better hairdresser.¡±


    Sticking out her long, forked tongue, Claire quickly fixed the messy arrangement with her vectors, put her fox back on her head, and started towards the window.


    ¡°Claire?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I have two questions.¡±


    ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°Why have you grabbed me by the wrist?¡±


    ¡°To lead you towards the balcony.¡±


    ¡°And why, precisely, are we heading there?¡±


    ¡°So we can jump.¡±


    Marie blinked. ¡°Why wou¡ª¡±


    ¡°You said two questions, not three,¡± said Claire. A wide grin on her lips, she dug her foot into the carpet and threw the one-tonne mare out the door, which conveniently opened just in time to remain unbroken despite her sudden acceleration.


    ¡°Claiiiiireeee!¡±


    Claire laughed as she kicked off the carpet with a flap of the wings and joined the noble lady in the sky. She considered catching her by the shoulders, but swapped forms and ducked beneath her instead.


    ¡°If it wasn¡¯t obvious enough already,¡± said the longmoose. ¡°We¡¯re going this way because it¡¯s faster than some dinky carriage.¡±


    ¡°I am well aware of your picky streak. I picked the most comfortable, high-end vehicle available.¡±


    Claire opened one of the eyes on her tail and stared briefly at the lime-green vehicle parked in front of the hotel. It had the sort of appearance that only a mother could love. Its wide-brimmed roof and its irrationally smooth profile indicated a design twenty years retired. And if that weren¡¯t enough to deny any claim of beauty, then one could simply look at the ribbed crochet work that adorned its otherwise homely exterior.


    ¡°That is one of the single dinkiest vehicles I¡¯ve ever laid eyes on.¡±


    ¡°It is meant for incognito travel. The interior is much prettier.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. I¡¯m not riding around in a burnt peanut.¡±


    ¡°Just give it a chance. I promise you will be blown away.¡±


    ¡°The same goes for you, if you don¡¯t hold on.¡±


    ¡°Wha¡ª¡± Marie opened her mouth to speak, only to nearly faint as Claire suddenly shot straight into the sky. Going above the tallest towers, she didn¡¯t double back until she was high enough to overlook the city.


    ¡°Are you sure that it is safe for us to be so high up?¡± asked Marie.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine. Stop fussing,¡± said Claire. ¡°And it¡¯s better up here anyway. Right, Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°Mhm.¡± The foxgirl slowly sat up as she threw on an elven dress and grew back to full size. ¡°Morning flights are best from high up. It¡¯s a little chilly, but you get used to it.¡±


    ¡°You do this every morning?¡±


    ¡°Normally,¡± said Claire. ¡°We were skipping it while we were up in the mountains.¡± She flexed her wings and cleared the sky by pushing the surrounding clouds northward. ¡°Be careful not to bite your tongue.¡±


    Her warning said, she flapped her wings and sped off into the distance.


    ¡°Claire!? Slow down!¡± shouted Marie.


    ¡°She¡¯s already going pretty slow,¡± said Sylvia, with a yawn.


    ¡°How is this slow!?¡± cried the centaur. ¡°I swear I¡¯m going to fall off and die! At least give me a saddle or something! You¡¯re too thin for me to grab onto you with my legs!¡±


    ¡°Put a saddle on me, Mariabelle Postumus, and I will strangle you.¡±


    ¡°...Why does it feel like you actually mean that?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. She probably doesn¡¯t,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so sure,¡± muttered the horse.


    ¡°That¡¯s hurtful,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Remember the time you said that you were joking about driving a spike between Durham¡¯s legs?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Smiling softly, Claire did a few laps around the city before returning to her humanoid form and hiding behind a floating platform. Though certainly drunk out of its mind, the city was not so drunk as to forever ignore the giant serpent flying through the skies above. Still, the commotion was fairly contained. Few had looked up for long enough to spot her, and ever fewer had refrained from dismissing her as a figment of their imagination.


    ¡°So? What¡¯s the plan?¡± asked Claire. ¡°Are you going as Lady Postumus?¡±


    ¡°Well, I had a number of disguises for us packed away in the carriage, but now, we have no choice but to go as ourselves.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire. ¡°Sylvia?¡±


    ¡°Three unbreakable disguises, coming right up!¡±


    She hummed a quick tune under her breath and transformed Claire and Marie. Both were made just like her and transformed into a pair of fox-eared elves with large bushy tails and traditional elven dresses. Their faces and colour schemes were retained¡ªClaire was still silvery blue, and Marie was a rich chestnut brown¡ªbut their complexions were made darker. All three girls sported auburn, almost Flitzegarde-like skin that glimmered brilliantly beneath the light of the sun.


    ¡°How¡¯s this?¡± asked the fox.


    Claire paused for a moment to note that Sylvia¡¯s tail was the fluffiest of the three before creating an icy mirror and inspecting her new body. ¡°We¡¯re a little foreign, but it¡¯s fine.¡±


    ¡°I knew it¡¯d be perfect ¡®cause you probably still want to stand out, and I¡¯m super cute.¡±


    ¡°Only sometimes.¡±


    ¡°Hey! What¡¯s that supposed to mean!?¡±


    ¡°Correct me if I¡¯m wrong,¡± said Marie, who had spent a few seconds carefully inspecting her body, ¡°but this appears to be a ridiculously high-level spell.¡±


    ¡°Mmnnn, not really,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I think I learned it around level five hundred?¡±


    ¡°Five hundred!? I thought you were just a pet!¡±


    ¡°What the heck!?¡±


    ¡°She is just a pet,¡± said Claire. ¡°Don¡¯t think about it too much. You¡¯ll just give yourself a headache.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m actually an aspect,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°And Claire¡¯s my pet. Not the other way around.¡±


    The claim was met with an extended moment of silence, broken only as Claire magically grabbed both the other foxes and started dragging them towards the colosseum.


    ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s go. Stop wasting time.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°She doesn¡¯t believe I¡¯m an aspect!¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t either,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Why not!?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re just a stupid fox.¡± Sticking out her tongue, which had grown much wider and lost its forked tip, Claire pinched the bridge of Sylvia¡¯s nose before continuing towards the colosseum.


    From above, it was clear that the arena had been flooded. Everything besides the uppermost layer of seats was buried beneath a layer of fresh water. Making use of all the space had effectively doubled the arena¡¯s size, extending it to the incredible length of two full kilometers. The event was already underway in spite of the early hour. Ten groups of fishermen were going at it.


    The spears they wielded were artifacts that fired concentrated blasts of electricity from their tips. Though not powerful enough to take out any decent fighters, they were at least decent enough for the fish swimming around the depths. The common bass and trout only took one long-ranged stab before they floated to the surface, though it seemed like there the rarer and more powerful species, like the marlins and the tunas, needed a few extra hits.


    Fighting among the competitors was neither banned nor discouraged. People hopped from boat to boat, stealing each other¡¯s fish and quite brawling for some of the best spots. Offensive magic appeared to serve as the only restriction, as while the mages put up shields, they refrained from firing off any sort of projectile.


    ¡°Uhmmmm, are you sure this is a fishing contest?¡± asked Sylvia. ¡°¡®Cause it looks more like a brawl.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s both,¡± said Claire. ¡°The team that brings back the most fish wins, but they don¡¯t count as yours unless you turn them in.¡±


    ¡°That seems a little silly,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°It is plenty of fun. This is the sort of activity that is frequently seen during festivals,¡± said Marie.


    They landed next to one of the piers as they spoke, right around where everyone else was gathered. The crowd was still small, thanks to the time of day, maybe thirty or forty people at most, with plenty of cheering children among their number.


    ¡°Are you girls here to watch or play?¡± One of the referees, an older lamia somewhere in her fifties, flagged the group down immediately.


    ¡°Play,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Just the three of you?¡± asked the snake. Her scales were a deep wine red, and her tail was on the thicker side. For someone wrinkled enough to have great-grandchildren, she seemed to be in surprisingly good shape.


    ¡°Is that a bad thing?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Not particularly. The teams can go as high as seven, but they don¡¯t have to.¡±


    ¡°Oh, okay! Then yeah, just us!¡±


    ¡°Perfect,¡± said the snake lady. She handed each party member one of the spears she carried in the quiver on her back. As the detachable tips were made of electric energy, the shafts themselves were surprisingly short. ¡°You can head to any of the empty docks. This game¡¯ll be a bit longer, but we should be able to get you out on the water soon.¡±

 Chapter 447 - Reign of the Crowned XI

    Chapter 447 - Reign of the Crowned XI


    Lana deployed her temporal distortion field and leapt over an incoming claw. Landing square on her attacker¡¯s back, she kicked at its head whilst launching herself down the snowy mountain path. She needed a weapon¡ªsomething sharp and heavy enough to apply the techniques ingrained into her flesh. Her pocket knife wouldn¡¯t cut it. At most, she could leverage it as a means of preparing another wooden axe, but there was no time.


    The orniferin king was already poised to strike. Spinning around, it reared up on its hind legs and descended upon her with its jaws and claws alike. She threw up her domain, slowed down time, and slipped right under the attack. She retaliated with an open-palmed strike. It was a pathetic imitation, something that she performed with one of her crew members¡¯ abilities in mind. And surely enough, it proved entirely ineffective. The crustacean didn¡¯t react. Its cold gaze still fixed upon her, it followed with a spinning cleave, ready to gouge her entrails out with its bladed legs.


    If anything, Lana¡¯s fist had taken more damage. Her fur was supposed to be tough as diamonds, but the tiny serrations that dotted the orniferin¡¯s body tore straight through her natural armour and bloodied her palm.


    Attacking with her bare hands would get her nowhere.


    She needed an axe.


    It was fortunate then that she was far from the only assailant. Her spell-slinging companions unleashed their magic in tandem, with one surrounding the centipede with a circle of arrows, and the other directing a nuclear blast straight into its skull.


    The force of the magic sent the insectoid crustacean flying through the air. He was thrown all the way to the next mountain, his shell scorched black by the all-out attack. Lana was hardly unaffected. She was sent spiraling into the nearest valley despite the enemy absorbing most of the explosive force. But that was exactly what she had wanted¡ªneeded to happen.


    Because she came to a sliding stop by a pile of orniferin corpses.


    It wasn¡¯t the largest group, just one of the many that they created mid-retreat. Still, it served her purpose.


    She grabbed a claw from the pile and removed the bottom pincer. Its new shape was much closer to that of a scythe, but the system was generous enough that it allowed her to override the classification¡ªin Lana¡¯s hands, it was considered an axe, even if it had a pair of strange, floppy joints she would have to work around.


    Another spell scorched the horizon as she test-swung the weapon. It was a pillar of flame, defined by the mushroom-shaped cloud that filled the world around it. The mountain range was changed, completely reshaped as landslides and avalanches rained down on the world below. All the clouds were blown away, leaving nothing but the afternoon sun to shine down upon the Langgbjerns, their rays focused on the orniferin that rose from the rubble.


    He hissed and snarled, crying out in rage as he turned his eyes towards his attacker.


    But he was given no chance to strike.


    A dozen magic circles formed in the space above his head, each larger than the other, and each made to concentrate the primordial magic directed towards the crab-shaped target.


    Three brilliant colours shuttered the day, outshining the sun itself with their blasphemous radiance.


    They shone so bright that the rest of the world almost seemed to dim, to lose its glow before their pulsing, neon waves.


    And then, annihilation.


    A whole mountain was eaten, burned to the ground by the ray that rose from the earth and sought the heavens above. It was the only extended spell that Jules had worked into his repertoire, designed precisely to erase that which could rapidly recover. Lana was almost certain it worked. She watched as it melted the sky, destroying everything but the few places where the gods had guarded their dungeons, where magic ran through the earth and filled it with raw power.


    It was followed by another world-shaking spell. A verdant arrow that fell from far above and melted the crater that the first magic had left behind.


    And yet, the orniferin stood. He rose to its feet, chittering madly as he fought against the sorcerous downpour.


    He dove straight through the bright green arrow and emerged from its rear. The veiny, translucent wings that sprouted from each segment conveying his rage by their lonesome. The rapid fluttering was so violent it shook the mountains, sending with each beat a powerful, skull-rattling shockwave in the form of a haunting screech.


    Lana expanded her domain three times each second and sprinted away as fast as she could, but she couldn¡¯t outrun the blast. The soul-shaking echoes chased her down and coursed through her bones, converting her insides to a bloody mush.


    Suddenly, the insect appeared in front of her.


    She didn¡¯t know when it had even kicked off the ground, but there it was, with its claw in her face.


    Not even her time dilation sufficed to save her from being ripped in half.


    When she next regained consciousness, it was on top of a completely different mountain, her body somehow put back together again. Looking up, she found Panda, sighing and shaking his head as he looked down at the half conscious trio.


    ¡°Come on, get up,¡± he said, with a smirk. ¡°There¡¯s no time to be wasting.¡±


    A shiver ran up her spine as soon as she followed his gaze.


    ¡°This is how it¡¯s gonna be until you prove your worth.¡±


    The cycle had repeated again.


    The orniferin was already approaching.


    ___


    Guided by the jittern warriors, Chloe slowly made her way through the massive palace. Unlike the Cadrian castle, which was scaled up for its inhuman inhabitants, the individual structures within the jittern lands were specced to an ordinary human scale.  Their spatial consumption stemmed almost entirely from their ridiculous quantity.


    She passed glimmering pavilions and towering mansions, beautiful courtyards and immaculate gardens, the contents thereof never anything but perfectly maintained.


    Though she lacked any such uncanny ability, the vampire felt a stare on her person throughout the walk. If anything, it was more difficult not to notice. The king shot a continuous stream of conspicuous glances¡ªa behaviour that persisted even after he accidentally walked himself into a pole.


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    He clearly knew he wasn¡¯t being sneaky. He smiled sheepishly when she met him with a less-than-satisfied gaze and did nothing to correct his behaviour. Only after one of his servants whispered into his ear did he clear his throat and raise his voice.


    ¡°To journey this path, regardless of thy purpose, a beckoned fatigue,¡± he said, with the usual realm-distorting projections. ¡°Let mine hearth be yours, a feast for supper we share, upon flame of rest.¡±


    Chloe smiled awkwardly. ¡°Thank you, but I¡¯m still doing fine on rations. To be honest, I¡¯d like to set out as early as I can, and if you rather I waited until morning, I¡¯d like to use any extra time to catch up on sleep.¡±


    ¡°Mind not for thy rest, for with our chefs ablessed, rest thy meal shall grant.¡±


    ¡°To be honest, I¡¯m fasting right now,¡± she said. ¡°I can¡¯t eat without growing weaker.¡±


    ¡°It shall be no fault, for thy steed shall offer strength, more than is required.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a paladin, and that would be breaking my oath,¡± she said. ¡°I worship Alfred, celestial of life, and I¡¯m only allowed to eat on days where I fulfill his demands.¡± It was a lie, of course. Alfred wasn¡¯t the type to care for much of anything. And though Chloe bore many titles, holy knight was clearly not among them.


    ¡°In thy faith he trusts, everlasting and endless, of one day he cares not.¡±


    ¡°I mean, that¡¯s probably true¡­¡± She wasn¡¯t really sure what to say. The pug king was being pushy enough that she suspected he would reject any excuse she came up with, so she stayed quiet and surveyed her surroundings. The palace¡¯s layout was nothing short of convoluted. She could see over a dozen escape routes in any which direction, but she didn¡¯t dare to take them. The pug-satyrs had proven themselves much faster than her. She probably wouldn¡¯t have been able to get away unless a max-speed sprint sufficed to get her out of their territory. Frankly, she doubted it would. All the signs pointed down Patience Lane. She would fare best under cover of night, but even then, escape was practically a pipe dream, impossible lest their senses of smell were worse than their faces suggested.


    Though, it wasn¡¯t like they would be necessary if the pug-king was true to his word. The longer they walked, the louder her doubt grew. He was talking her ears off, speaking in his odd rhythm as he bragged about the history of his reign.


    The details were uninteresting, but she did her best to follow along in case he asked her to repeat it.


    ¡°Mine home we arrive, grand as the heavenly halls, a marvel divine.¡±


    A pair of servants opened the door for the entourage and revealed the building¡¯s beautiful interior. There were veritable works of art placed all over. Vases, paintings, and sculptures sat among books, trinkets, and charms. Chloe, however, paid them little mind. She continued to seek alternative paths as she continued towards the dining hall.


    Somehow, the empty table was set as they pushed open the doors. And somehow, the daylight had long been stolen.


    When she looked outside the window, she found the sun far beneath the horizon. The stars were out, flickering just like the candles that kept the room alight. With another blink, the guards that were their escorts were gone. The king and his maidservants were the only ones still present. And oddly enough, the food was already on the table.


    The smell came out of nowhere, assaulting her senses as the maids lifted the lids off of their exquisite offerings. Cuts of duck, freshly seared steak, and even a whole roasted pig prepared alongside a whole bouquet of fruit. The wine the servants poured into their glasses was so fragrant that she could almost taste it from afar. But Chloe had no intention of partaking. She knew how her body reacted to good food, and she had no intention of putting that side of her on display before someone whose eyes were pregnant with interest.


    ¡°I really do appreciate you preparing all this, and I don¡¯t mean to offend,¡± said Chloe, ¡°but as much as I would like to indulge, I have to uphold my oath.¡± When she looked back at the realm¡¯s ruler, she found everything about him changed.


    He was no longer wearing his warrior¡¯s garb, but a set of loose casual clothes that exposed a glimpse of his chiseled chest. The veiled hat was replaced with a crown that exposed his ugly pug mug. Unlike many of the other men she saw, he had a strange moustache that grew into a pair of long, tapered tendrils. They extended well below his face, nearly reaching the table that he was leaning over.


    His eyes sparkled, shining with a bit of an odd light as he spent a few moments staring. Despite her rejection, he didn¡¯t seem angry, only curious or perhaps even intrigued.


    ¡°Packaged solution, a box of finest carved wood, eaten down the line.¡±


    ¡°Yes please,¡± said Chloe. ¡°Thank you for understanding.¡±


    ¡°A stark impression, impresses a man¡¯s true worth, or the lack thereof.¡±


    The vampiric maid forced another smile. ¡°I¡¯d really like to bathe and sleep.¡±


    ¡°Such simple desires, like falling leaves they''re granted, yet rebuffed I am.¡±


    Chloe almost wanted to grimace. He wasn''t even being subtle anymore. Still, true to his word, he allowed her to go. She was pleasantly surprised to find that he didn¡¯t try to follow her to the baths. There were a few maids present to attend to her needs, but she was otherwise left with peace and quiet.


    She threw off her clothes and hung them on the racks nearby. She started walking to the baths, but stopped as she spotted herself in the mirror. It wasn¡¯t on account of her beauty¡ªthough she definitely would have wanted to fuck herself if she was anyone else¡ªbut rather the faint amber glow that came from her pelvic mark.


    It started at the very bottom of the heart-shaped tattoo and worked its way up along the other edges. It took a few seconds for it to get all the way through, and another few for it to return and begin the cycle anew. Confused, Chloe placed a finger on the mark and traced along its length. But while she could feel that the glowing parts were just a little bit warmer than usual, she couldn¡¯t really tell if anything else was different.


    Making a note to ask Alfred the next time they convened, she sank her way into the bath and rested her weary body. It wasn¡¯t until she touched the water and grabbed the soap that she realised how grimey she felt. She was fortunate enough not to have any blood splattered all over her body, as would certainly be the case for the others. Her particular constitution allowed her to absorb it through her skin and hair.


    Her mind shifted to her outfit as soon as she started washing up. For the most part, the uniform appeared undamaged¡ªshe had mended it every night before going to bed¡ªbut it was every bit as filthy as her body, perhaps even more.


    Thankfully, the servants didn¡¯t raise any questions when she rose from her soak and grabbed it from the changeroom. It took a few seconds to remove everything that it was equipped with. The seven weapon belts that lined the insides of her skirt were easy to rip out, but the needles hidden in the fabric were difficult to access when the dress was laid out. It didn¡¯t help that she had dozens of pockets filled with miscellaneous items. There wasn¡¯t a single part of the dress without some sort of hidden feature or other. Even her panties were tweaked for emergencies. She had gone ahead and added three knife slots to each buttcheek as soon as she grew a tail.


    The final piece she removed was the brooch pinned to the strap of her apron. Checking the clock attached to its backside and confirming that noon had only just passed, she threw all of the fabric into the water and gave it a solid wash.


    She grimaced as she eyed all the dirt she squeezed out of her uniform. There was enough of it to turn the water brown. Had the servants entered the room right then, they surely would have fainted. But fortunately, the ever-running faucets washed away the filth before any such incident could trigger. Chloe soaped everything but Arciel¡¯s panties four times for good measure before giving the cloth a good wring and observing her handiwork with a nod.


    Her maid class allowed her to remove all of the moisture with a single squeeze, so she threw the clothing back on and returned her weapons to their intended positions. Only then did she step out of the bath and follow the servants to her guest room.


    ¡°Should I sneak out?¡± She muttered the question under her breath after closing the door and stepping over to the window.


    At a glance, at least, it seemed like he was the sort of man to keep his promises.


    But on the other hand was his overbearing curiosity.


    The way that he looked at her was concerning, bone-chilling. She didn¡¯t want anything to do with him.


    Still, Chloe soon settled for setting up a line of defence¡ªa series of traps by all the room¡¯s entrances so she could sleep at ease.


    If it was for her mistress, there was nothing that she couldn¡¯t endure.

 Chapter 448 - The Festival and the Skyward City V

    Chapter 448 - The Festival and the Skyward City V


    The fox-eared trio thanked the old snake as they observed the spears in their hands. Their status as artifacts was clear from up close. Each of the three magical sticks had a series of runes fired directly into their clay bodies. They weren¡¯t exactly the highest quality items. Fully functional souvenirs were being sold to the crowd on the other side of the dock, and they were cheap enough for many of the participants to be using their own. That much was clear from the extensive customization. Some had their names inscribed upon the grips, while others put sights or other modules on top of them. One man had even overvolted his by modifying its circuit, but no one seemed to care.


    There were a handful of women standing among their ranks, but most of the prospective sailors were large, muscular men built heavy enough to sink the boats that they were assigned. Unlike the magical spears, the rides were not at all allowed to be customized. They were standard issue wooden vessels enchanted for greater buoyancy.


    Such spellwork was often required for any sort of watercraft meant to hold a party of horse-men. Warriors were especially heavy, with particularly tall and beefy specimens like Durham weighing well over three thousand pounds. That, however, was the extent of the magic employed. All locomotion was done by way of oar. Each ship had six of them sitting within the hull, with attachment points on both the boats and their rowing devices to facilitate greater ease of movement.


    They were just wide enough that it wasn¡¯t practical for a single person, even a particularly girthy horse, to grab oars on both sides of the ship at once.


    ¡°You girls new to this?¡±


    One of the men standing nearby called out to the trio as soon as they picked a dock. He was a peculiar cottontail standing on a pair of stilts, one painted to look like a rabbit¡¯s leg and the other made of bare wood. For clothing, he wore a loose, leather jacket that almost seemed to resemble a trenchcoat, as well as a collared shirt and a pair of puffy, vomit-green pants. Lana surely would have given him a sour look had she the misfortune of being present, for he was dressed as the world¡¯s single ugliest privateer.


    ¡°Yup!¡± said Sylvia.


    The bearded pirate laughed. ¡°You might want to wait until later in the afternoon then. Early morning, when the sun¡¯s still rising, that¡¯s when the real sailors come out to play.¡± He pulled a darkened bottle out from within his pants and brought it to his lips. ¡°You don¡¯t stand a chance, not against the likes of Bartholomew the Great!¡±


    Claire narrowed her eyes, but another unfamiliar man spoke up before she could open her mouth.


    ¡°God fucking damn it, Normen! Cut that shit out before I smack you upside the head!¡± The voice had come from a reverse centaur. The much more sensibly dressed man, who wore an ordinary tunic, stood by the docks with his arms crossed and his foot thumping the dock in annoyance.


    ¡°Oh, come on!¡± Complained the not-so-great not-so-Bartholomew. ¡°I was just having a little fun!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and we told you that we weren¡¯t running it back this year unless you cut out the fucking roleplay! Keep this shit up and we¡¯re backing right the fuck out!¡±


    ¡°Alright, alright, relax.¡± Normen sighed as he took off his hat and hopped off his stilts. ¡°There! You happy?¡±


    ¡°No! Fuck you, Normen! And fuck your stupid ass acting! Dweeb ass cunt!¡±


    Claire and Marie held back their laughter, but Sylvia was unable to resist. She practically fell to her knees as the angry rabbit made an unintelligible noise and threw his stilts at his horse-faced friend.


    ¡°Anyway, ignoring that idiot,¡± he spun back around and coughed as he removed his eyepatch and dodged a thrown oar, ¡°I¡¯m Normen. My wife and I run a small weapons shop by the southern gate,¡± he said. ¡°Norman¡¯s Big Sticks, it¡¯s called. Stop by sometime. We¡¯ll treat you right.¡±


    Sylvia blinked as she looked between the ordinary family man and the rabid wolves on the water. ¡°Uhmm¡­ are you sure this is a good idea? You seem kinda¡­ normal.¡±


    The man paused for a second to follow the fox¡¯s gaze before tapping his fist against his palm. ¡°I know it doesn¡¯t look like it, but they¡¯re all regular townsfolk too.¡±


    ¡°They are?¡±


    ¡°I know they look a bit rabid right now, but that¡¯s just, y¡¯know, in the spirit of some good old fun.¡± He laughed as he put his hat back on. ¡°This your first time spending the solstice in Amrinia?¡±


    ¡°Mhm!¡±


    ¡°Well that explains that then,¡± he said. ¡°This is just how we get when we cruise the high seas.¡±


    ¡°Goddammit ! I told you to knock that shit off!¡± A stool flew into the back of Normen¡¯s head and sent him plummeting into the water. ¡°This isn¡¯t a fucking sea, you moron!¡±


    Claire shook her head as she looked between Marie and the unconscious, self-proclaimed pirate. ¡°Your people are deranged.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush. I will have you know that he is widely recognized for his eccentricity.¡±


    ¡°Wait, you know this guy?¡± asked Sylvia.


    ¡°Not personally,¡± said Marie. ¡°But he often makes himself the talk of the town. Believe it or not, he attempted to market a fifty meter-long greatsword after hearing about the incident that was Tornatus¡¯ destruction. I believe he planted it in the middle of the square. It took a few of the soldiers to get it pulled back out.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah, I remember that,¡± said Normen, as he climbed back up onto the docks. ¡°Have to thank the wifey for burying that thing in the fountain. Couldn¡¯t have done it without her.¡± He gave the sore spot on the back of his head a rub. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s nice meeting you and all, but no hard feelings. This is a contest, and we¡¯re about to give it our all, even if it means ploughing through a couple of newbies.¡±


    ¡°None taken!¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I bet we¡¯ll give you a real run for your money!¡±


    ¡°Heh. That¡¯s the spirit.¡± The man shook the half-elf¡¯s hand before getting back onto his stilts and wandering towards another group of fresh arrivals and performing much the exact same routine.


    Claire climbed into the boat in the meantime and grabbed one of the ropes hanging from the mast. By the looks of it, it was probably a backup in case something went wrong with the sails, but she used it to tie two of the oars together instead. Manipulating the newly constructed object proved much easier than expected. Her weapon mastery skill kicked in for some odd reason and provided a perfect understanding of exactly how she needed to whip it if she wanted to break the oars on her opponents¡¯ faces.


    Incidentally, it also came with a rough understanding of what she needed to do in order to row it, and testing it, with the boat still anchored, revealed that it was every bit as easy as it¡¯d been in her mind.


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    ¡°I¡¯ll move us around,¡± she said. ¡°You two can focus on fishing.¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡± Sylvia poured some of her mana into the artifact and turned into a lightning spear. ¡°So we¡¯re just supposed to like¡­¡± she made a throwing motion and launched a blast into the air, ¡°do that, right?¡±


    ¡°Hitting a target is more difficult than it appears,¡± said Marie. ¡°But yes, that is the gist of it.¡±


    ¡°Mmk! I think I¡¯ve got the hang of it,¡± she said, as she nailed one of the buoys floating nearby.


    Marie smiled awkwardly as she looked towards her own rod. ¡°That was awfully quick.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s an aspect,¡± said Claire. ¡°And you¡¯ve always been a weakling.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shush.¡±


    It took another five-odd minutes before the previous competition finally drew to a close. The winner, a group of cottontails wearing disproportionate inflatable tubes, were briefly crowned on a podium while the staff resuscitated the fish with a magical device and threw them back into the water. It looked like there were still three or four slots missing at first, but several of the teams that had just wrapped up, including the winning team, scuttled back to the docks whilst chatting about the previous game. The referee waited for them to board their ships before quickly going over the rules again for anyone unfamiliar and blowing the whistle that signalled again the event¡¯s beginning.


    Claire nearly joined many of the other newcomers in shooting off into the lake, but stayed her hand after noting the veterans¡¯ slow pace. They rowed gradually, taking care not to scare the fish as they slid their way through the water.


    They made catches along the way, with their members firing their lightning at the shadows that lurked beneath the pier. Sylvia and Marie both quickly caught on and started to do the same, albeit to limited success. Both were missing most of their targets.


    ¡°I thought you ¡®got the hang of it,¡¯¡± said Claire.


    ¡°The spears slowed all the way down when they hit the water!¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°You have to throw them harder. They¡¯re meant to imitate real spears,¡± said Claire. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about breaking anything. Their output is limited.¡±


    ¡°Oh! That¡¯s pretty convenient,¡± said the fox, who stunned a fish after another three tries. ¡°These artifacts are a little weird¡­ I wonder how they work.¡±


    ¡°I believe they read data from your circuits directly,¡± said Marie, ¡°but unfortunately, I am not privy to the particulars.¡±


    ¡°Less talking, more spearing,¡± said Claire. She lifted one of the oars in the meantime and knocked out a particularly unfortunate fish with a good old-fashioned bonk.


    Though Sylvia started pulling up a fish with almost every throw, they fell behind the other parties by sheer virtue of the weapons¡¯ limits. They produced only one blade per second, seemingly tuned for the once-ascended. It was both a boon and a bust. Though they were unable to stand near the top of the leaderboard, neither were they the first to suffer from a violent attack.


    The entire last place group suddenly stopped fishing and sat down. Their hands firmly on their oars, the men and women on board rowed as hard as they could. The party in their sights, the group in first place, quickly caught on and started paddling away, but the flooded colosseum was only so big, and the last place group had long picked up their speed.


    Lightning spears flew as soon as they entered each others¡¯ range, but as expected of weapons barely capable of stunning fish, they were far too weak to do any harm. At worst, they were a deterrent, convincing some of the less-pain-resistant to foolishly drop their weapons ahead of any meaningful exchange.


    The eventual collision was hardly the most powerful or otherwise significant, but the resulting waves disrupted the fish, sending them far deeper into the water while the seafarers fought it out. It was a veritable brawl. No one seemed to care enough to hold back. Unconscious bodies flew into the water, filling the pool with half-drowned idiots and broken oars. It was a messy melee, but eventually, the aggressors won out and emerged from the mess with their opponents¡¯ catch.


    The freshly made last-place team quickly put itself back together and woke its unconscious members before charging another group, and they weren¡¯t the only ones. There were two other fights ongoing by the time they picked themselves back up.


    Claire¡¯s group kept fishing in the meantime, with Sylvia pulling up target after target, until they found themselves with a pile larger than any other. Naturally, they were soon made the target of an attack, with freshly-robbed teams engaging from both port and starboard.


    ¡°What the heck!?¡± cried Sylvia, as she looked at the incoming centaurs. ¡°Is it just me, or do they look totally rabid?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯d be because they are,¡± said Claire. ¡°You¡¯ll want to put up a barrier.¡±


    ¡°That kinda seems like it¡¯d be cheating,¡± said Sylvia.


    ¡°Magic is allowed as long as it is not used for offense,¡± said Marie.


    ¡°Yeah, but still! My barriers are super strong!¡±


    ¡°Then make it so they don¡¯t block anything underwater,¡± said Claire, with a shrug.


    ¡°Oh, good idea!¡±


    Sylvia quickly threw up a dome that would prevent a boat, but not a person from getting through, only to freeze again when the enemies made contact. The cottontails had, evidently, overheard the discussion. After explaining the shield to their confused horse friends, they quickly jumped off their ships and started swimming straight for the foxes¡¯ boat.


    Their breaths were heavy and their eyes were bloodshot, and to make matters worse, few had ever swam. They were improvising their techniques, wildly flailing their limbs in the ships¡¯ general direction, looking more like deranged predators than competitors in a friendly, local event.


    The one real foxgirl flapped her lips open and closed, eyes wide as she continued to watch their disturbing approach. The fake half-elves, however, were much less concerned. Both grabbed their spears and started throwing them towards their targets, striking them exactly as they would a school of fish.


    Marie¡¯s attacks were haphazard, but Claire was careful and meticulous. She landed strikes in their opponents¡¯ mouths whenever they came up for breath and otherwise struck delicate parts capable of eliciting pained groans.


    She waited until they drew much closer before finally busting out the oar and thwacking them over the head. Her strikes were made with such pinpoint precision that she was able to knock them out without breaking the brittle wooden implement. Each target she smacked floated to the surface, face down and half drowning. And yet, the number of attackers only increased. Many of the other teams started to converge upon spying their rock solid defence and the pile of fish that came with it.


    In just five minutes, Claire had bonked every sailor twice and doubled the size of their catch.


    Triumphant, she started rolling back towards the pier, ready to turn in her catch and seize her victory, but a sudden burst of magic stopped her before she could pull up to the dock. Looking in the caster¡¯s direction, she found Normen already standing beside the turn-in point with a bucket of fish in each hand. His fingers were still glowing, alight with the thieving magic that he had used to commandeer their quarry.


    He showed both buckets to the referees, but Claire launched off the ship and kicked him in the face before he could complete the transaction.


    She caught the buckets out of midair and presented them in the fake pirate¡¯s place, but another pair of spells stopped her from turning them in. The first healed her fish, returning their ability to move, while a second invigorated them, filling them with energy and bravery alike. They hopped from their gaols, but Claire grabbed them out of the air, squeezed away their consciousness, and returned them to her bucket, only for the man she had kicked into the water to steal them from her again.


    ¡°Be free, friends!¡± His voice was too distorted to interpret, but Claire read his lips as he dumped the contents of her bucket beneath the pier.


    The message was clear. If he couldn¡¯t have them, then she couldn¡¯t either.


    The only thing that rang any clearer was her irritation.


    Not thinking for a moment to hide it, Claire leapt into the water feet first and sent him plummeting into the colosseum¡¯s depths.


    ¡°Uhmmm¡­ I think that was a bit unnecessary,¡± said Sylvia, when Claire surfaced again.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Claire magically retrieved her buckets whilst pulling their fish back inside, only for one of Normen¡¯s buddies¡ªthe one that had spent all morning insulting him¡ªto repeat the rabbit¡¯s thievery.


    Claire sighed. But a smile on her lips all the while, she grabbed a spare oar, leapt off the dock, and prepared to show the fool his place.

 Chapter 449 - The Festival and the Skyward City VI

    Chapter 449 - The Festival and the Skyward City VI


    Claire fought back the urge to stretch as she watched Marie¡¯s carriage float off into the sunset. Together, they visited all the attractions the festival had to offer, checked out the local stores, and skated around the city centre. On some days, they watched the colosseum¡¯s fighters go at it. And on others, they lazed around and read, turning into potatoes on the hotel¡¯s fancy couches. When they ran out of special events, they spent their time chatting, gossiping about the people in their lives and telling tales of battles hard fought. Sometimes, Sylvia would pitch in with stories and songs, throwing in illusions to better tell her tales.


    The fun always lasted until sunset, until it was time for the marchioness to return to her duties. At night, she had to host banquets for their noble guests, surprisingly many of which were eccentric enough to visit the northernmost lands in winter.


    ¡°I like her. She¡¯s lots of fun,¡± said Sylvia.


    Fox-Claire nodded. ¡°She was always the silliest of all of my maids.¡±


    ¡°Mhm. I can totally see it.¡± Sylvia smiled as she grabbed her silvery friend¡¯s hand and gave it a bit of a squeeze. ¡°Are we gonna head back into the mountains now?¡±


    ¡°In the morning,¡± said Claire. ¡°There¡¯s one more place I have to go.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s that?¡± asked the real fox girl.


    ¡°A temple,¡± replied the fake one.


    ¡°Oh, right. More god stuff.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Claire. ¡°I don¡¯t have that much left to do, so I might as well.¡±


    ¡°Mmk. I¡¯ll go grab dinner and wait back in the room.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Sucking the mana out of her disguise¡ªthey had left Marie¡¯s on as a prank, unbeknownst to her¡ªClaire kicked off into the evening sky. She floated through the city, hovering directly above its square as she picked out the scattered temples. There were only five of them in all. Most of the northlanders worshipped either the goddess of the frozen wilds or the goddess of war. Rikael might have had a temple were they any closer to Kryddar, but even she was missing, ignored as readily as the goddess of harvest. Instead, the locals worshipped the collective, the lord of the abyssal depths, and the god of the inner flame.


    The first choice seemed like the most obvious. The collective was likely responsible for the distortion that assaulted the Langgbjerns each time. And having rejected its dominion, Claire was bound to have caught the attention of at least some of its members. But at the same time, its distributed nature was precisely why she hoped to avoid it. Perhaps, if she were an ordinary noble lady, she might have felt some affinity. But she wasn¡¯t an artist, a musician, or a writer. That was more Rubia¡¯s domain.


    Lest there was an existential threat to the concept of art itself, she doubted that there would be much for her to do, especially if she was unwilling to strip for a pervert holding a moistened brush. Every interaction she could fathom was headed straight south.


    With the divine collective disqualified and the dark god¡¯s blessing long in hand, she had no choice but to knock on Dorr¡¯s door.


    His temple was one of the few locations that violated the city¡¯s aesthetic, as well as one of the few places that didn¡¯t quite resemble a place of worship. The giant slabs of rock that made up most exteriors in town had been replaced by large, stained bricks. They were blackened by ash and soot, inevitable byproducts of the many fires always active within the holy grounds.


    As implied by the god¡¯s title, most of the temple¡¯s fires stemmed from within his practitioners, but so too did they exist externally. The god of the inner flame made a habit of forging weapons. In life, he was one of the few ascended dwarves not afraid of the forge, for he transcended the beard-like state possessed by their people and became a bundle of matter-agnostic energy. It was more of a hobby than a profession, but he remained the closest thing to a god of smithing. Though most gods could create equipment, there were only a few like Dorr, who was truly specialized for the task.


    Many of his believers took up the hobby, forging various things in their spare time. One might have assumed him rather popular for his work¡¯s relation to war, but few Cadrians cared for his worship. Smithies were certainly important, but those who purchased well-crafted weapons often did so with indifference or reluctance. The population desired naught but to be chosen by Vella, to be granted a divine arm forged of her biosteel. A blacksmith¡¯s masterpiece was merely a second class good.


    That wasn¡¯t to say that they weren¡¯t appreciated or otherwise collected. People still bought fancy weapons and brought them into battle. There was no such thing as a spared expense with one¡¯s life on the line, after all, but so too was that the reason that the standard issue weapons were constructed as they were.


    Purposeless ornaments were cut from the equation. Boiled down to only their functional parts, the weapons were designed to be balanced and durable, their enchantments and materials the key differences. After all, a level 50 warrior needed a completely different set of properties from one above level 500.


    For most troops, that was all they needed to draw out their full potential, but it wasn¡¯t uncommon for a soldier to order a weapon purpose built to suit their needs. Such blades came third only to accessories and pieces of armour. A sword would need to be replaced as soon as its blade was shattered, but a projectile-firing ring could last for upwards of a full ascension. Enhancements and minor buffs were far more common, but whatever the case, it was a jeweler and not a weaponsmith who would ultimately reap the profits.


    And while Dorr¡¯s disciples could certainly churn out such goods as well, few took it upon themselves to deviate from his path.


    On an ordinary day, the banging of hammers would have flooded the halls, but with no one at work during the winter festivities, the blackened stone building was eerily silent. There wasn¡¯t even a clerk to greet Claire by the entrance, not that it made much of a difference.


    Either way, she proceeded through the temple until she found the atrium. And then, clasping her hands and dropping to her knees, she spoke his name aloud.


    ¡°O Dorr, greatest of the smiths and ruler of silent resolve, I beseech from you a task of great importance, worthy of your sacred blessing.¡±


    She didn''t expect him to respond¡ªshe figured the weaponsmith would shy from the few most wanted by Vella¡ªbut the scenery changed before her prayer was completed. All of a sudden, she found herself deep in the forest, far, far away from any sort of civilization. She could hear all the usual culprits. The bugs sang the songs of their people while the fish splashed through the creek and the birds dove from the sky to catch them. The frogs croaked to express their displeasure while the local monkeys screamed for mates beneath the starlit sky.


    Dorr didn¡¯t greet her explicitly. He remained in his old log house, hammering away at his newest creation while tufts of dark smoke erupted from the chimney. Oddly, there seemed to be a few Borises present. One was at her side, scuttling along as she approached the smith¡¯s home, while the others lazed around, napping in the branches and on top of the house.


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    It wasn¡¯t like she had mistaken him for some other metal iguana. Each was undeniably one of the many clones that her weapon had spread throughout the realm.


    Wandering inside without permission seemed rude, so she knocked on the door and waited for the gruff ¡°Come in!¡± before pushing it wide open and venturing into the holy workshop.


    Its faceless owner was precisely as she had heard. He was a glowing blob shaped more or less like an unascended dwarf. He was short and wide, built as stocky as a hippo. In reality, the bulging lumps were probably muscles, but his shape was only approximate, lacking in just enough detail that it was impossible to tell. His beard, the main part of his body, was long and curly, extending nearly to his bellybutton despite its frazzled nature. It likely would have reached the floor had he straightened it out.


    ¡°Give me a second,¡± he said.


    Claire nodded silently as she scanned the room. There wasn¡¯t anywhere to sit, so she made a bench out of her vectors and plopped herself down by the door. It wasn¡¯t like Dorr lacked furniture. Just, everywhere she looked, the room was covered in finished goods. Hammers, axes, shields, and armour plates of all different shapes and sizes covered everything from the floor to the walls to the ceiling, leaving only a scant few places to walk. Even if she wanted to approach him, it would have been difficult to avoid all of the neatly placed wares, which had been arranged precisely to use every bit of space they could.


    Unlike the goods made by his believers, Dorr¡¯s work was incredibly intricate. Different materials were carefully interwoven to create the impression of luxury goods. Though in reality, he was simply skimping on his resources. If the pile beside his forge was anything to go by, the monster parts he had to work with were limited in number, so he used them sparingly, often setting them in the core of each blade whilst filling them out with metal.


    Some of the particularly odd weapons had elemental power sources built in. There was a dagger resembling the shard in her chest, a pair of boots that floated on their own, and a gauntlet that leaked primordial flame from each of its thirteen fingertips.


    The item that Dorr was working on, however, was most curious of all. It was a ball, a metal sphere the size of her fist. Every once in a while, it would rebel against its creator and grow a series of spikes, but the god of the inner flame always hammered them back down and returned it to its rounded form. The process must have repeated at least fifty times before he was finally satisfied enough with his handiwork to pull the object from its heat and place it in a bath of ice.


    Steam burst from the beaker on contact, but the god paid it no attention. He turned around and made a gesture like he was taking off his goggles and gloves, despite having neither item on his completely naked person.


    ¡°Claire Augustus. Welcome,¡± he said. He didn¡¯t have a face, but somehow, she got the impression that the man was smiling. ¡°You too, Boris. It¡¯s good to see you again.¡±


    Claire blinked, slowly looking between the man and the lizard, who was happily bobbing his head.


    ¡°Seems like you¡¯ve changed a fair bit, since I last saw you,¡± muttered the dwarf. ¡°Level 1000 already, huh?¡±


    Another series of nods.


    ¡°Well, turns out I¡¯ve got something special in mind.¡± Again, Claire got the impression that he put on his very best smile. ¡°But it¡¯ll probably have to wait for some other time. The system doesn¡¯t think you¡¯re ready yet, and I¡¯m inclined to agree.¡±


    Boris tilted his head.


    ¡°Nah, I wouldn¡¯t even say it¡¯s your fault. I know that doesn¡¯t seem to make much sense, but you¡¯ll get it soon enough.¡± He looked towards Claire, his gaze as expectant as it was nonexistent. ¡°In the end, it all comes down to the details.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t follow,¡± said Claire, with a tilt of the head.


    ¡°Good. I¡¯d be doing you too much of a favour if you did,¡± said the globby god. ¡°Now let¡¯s see¡­ you said you wanted a quest?¡±


    Claire nodded, prompting the god to scratch the back of his head with his hammer. ¡°Y¡¯know, that¡¯s not exactly as easy as it sounds. I don¡¯t got much to ask of you. It¡¯s not like I can task you with something you¡¯re already doing, and a weapons test would come off as more of a boon than a burden. ¡±He spent a moment with his arms crossed and his beard twisted in a knot. ¡°Guess I could always ask you to help pay off some of my debts?¡±


    ¡°Your debts?¡± asked Claire.


    ¡°Just to be clear, I don¡¯t mean cash,¡± said the god. ¡°I owe a few guys a few casual favours. I was thinking you could pay them back for me, but I dunno. Doesn¡¯t seem like the greatest idea.¡±


    Claire paused briefly before raising her voice. ¡°I have an idea.¡±


    ¡°Do you now?¡±


    ¡°An exchange,¡± said Claire. ¡°You¡¯re running low on true ice.¡±


    ¡°True, but I can get true ice whenever I want.¡± He twisted his nonexistent lips into an equally nonexistent smile. ¡°That does give me a bit of a better idea, though.¡±


    Log Entry 917609


    You have received a quest - Transcend True Ice.


    Present the god of the inner flame with 10 kilograms of a substance derived from true ice. The resulting derivation must be strictly superior. You will be rewarded with a greater blessing.


    ¡°There,¡± said the blob-man. ¡°I¡¯d say that¡¯s probably challenging enough.¡±


    Claire blinked. ¡°Does anything work? As long as it¡¯s better?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much,¡± he said. ¡°Dunno how long it¡¯ll take you, but you can stop by whenever you¡¯re done. Oh, and fiddling with it should be pretty easy once you get the hang of toying with your divinity. I can give you a few tips if you get stuck, bu¡ª¡±


    He froze as Claire stepped out of the hut in the middle of his sentence. He furrowed his brow, thinking that she might have immediately given up, but she returned as soon as a loud crack rang through the otherwise tranquil forest. A large, bloody chunk of ice followed her through the door. Shaped like the tip of a spear, it was as long as the girl¡¯s forearm and, at its thickest point, nearly three times as tall.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Something that transcends true ice.¡±


    ¡°It is?¡± He raised a brow as he realised that her shardless chest was still oozing blood.


    ¡°It¡¯s mostly the same,¡± she said. ¡°But it¡¯s better adapted to divinity.¡±


    Dorr spent a few moments staring at the object before breaking into a cackle. He hadn¡¯t realized that her bones had adapted. It made so much sense in hindsight, but perhaps a little too focused on Boris, the old god had overlooked the obvious change.


    ¡°Yeah, fine. You got me. You got me good,¡± he said, with a missing smile. ¡°My blessing is yours. Do with it what you will.¡±


    Still chuckling, he dismissed her from his realm and returned her to his temple.


    Log Entry 917610


    You have completed the ¡°Transcend True Ice¡± quest.


    You have received a blessing from the God of the Inner Flame.


    You have felt within your heart the strength of a stalwart will, and with it, the heat of the inner flame. Your affinity for fire has been restored to its rightful value. In heat, you find only comfort and rekindling. Fire will mend your wounds, freshen your mind, and cleanse you of all impurity. For it is in fire that your will shall blossom.


    Claire blinked. After staring at the panel for a solid few seconds, she silently thanked the god and rose from her seated position. It was another, rare, bonafide blessing. Unfortunate as it was, it had come just a little too late for Claire to spec into fire. Her titular class had done away with her flexibility. At the very least, she would have to wait until she became an aspect if she wanted to unlock another slot. It was likely going to be consumed just like all the others, but either way, she was unlikely to fill the slot with elemental magic.


    The thought of combining fire and ice was entirely unappealing. It was too boring, too common. Over half the mages who went in one direction often swerved around to cover the other, as if to balance themselves out and compensate for some sort of weakness. Claire, however, had no such intention.


    She wanted something warrior adjacent, something that would allow her to regenerate large chunks of her body at once while she dueled her father. She doubted that Dorr¡¯s blessing was powerful enough to fill that void. And even if it was, she would need to find the time to cast yet another set of spells in the middle of trading blows.


    It just seemed impractical, probably even worse than becoming something along the lines of a cleric¡ªnot that it mattered all too much at present.


    There was still some time before she needed to make the decision.


    And after one last meal, one last night of respite, she would set out in pursuit again.

 Chapter 450 - Reign of the Crowned XII

    Chapter 450 - Reign of the Crowned XII


    A faint white mist escaped Lucius¡¯ body, radiating from every single part of his skin as he took the realm into his ogreish lungs. He barely felt the cold. Though he stood up atop a mountain far above the clouds, though they were in the deepest depths of winter, he found his insides unbitten.


    In fact, there wasn¡¯t a single part of his bare-naked body pained by the icy winds. He was entirely resistant, immune to the element that fueled his nemesis.


    His shape had changed dramatically. The bugling abdomen that defined his species had been removed from his frame and replaced with a pair of humanoid glutes. He was going to miss his stinger, but he had to admit, it was of little use in battle, and aesthetically, his rock hard muscles were far superior. With his skin still the same darkened green as ever, he almost appeared as would a mutant orc.


    Of course, focusing on the finer details revealed a myriad of differences. Though orcs had massive tusks, their teeth were nowhere near as sharp and jagged as the fangs that lined the bee-ogre¡¯s jaws. Orcs had only one standard set, two straight lines of teeth that matched the curve of their jaws. They lacked both the spirals that ran along the grooves in Lucius¡¯ mouth as well as the second, pharyngeal extension that could rise from within his throat. Their eyes were, likewise, standard, barely functional when compared to his compound mirrors.


    There weren¡¯t quite as many of them as there had been back when he was an ordinary hunter, but each of the six pupils that filled his eye sockets were sharp enough to render the world in full. Shapes, colours, and shadows were covered, of course, but there was so much more. He could see magic in its purest form, heat atop a monochrome layer, and even fluorescence¡ªtraces of past interactions given shape by his rule-bending sight.


    Just as the past was reflected, so too did he see the future. The ability would take some getting used to, but he could experience up to a second of distortion.


    It wasn¡¯t just his face that differed from the usual green fodder. His muscle fibres had been completely refactored, changed to better adhere to his insectoid nature. Though a tad bit smaller¡ªhis body had shrunk by roughly twenty percent¡ªtheir efficiency had increased a hundred fold. He was strong enough that ordinary materials would crumble at the slightest touch.


    That was why he was naked. Simply by stretching his body, he had completely obliterated his clothing.


    It was fortunate then that his god had prepared a changed set. Floating in the space in front of him, just within reach of his fingers, was a priestly habit. It warped onto his body as he touched it, becoming a part of his flesh, capable of regenerating in much the same manner as the rest of his body.


    The very same phenomenon was repeated with a full suit of armour. Integrating with the very essence of his being, the dark glimmering metal coated every last part of his body. It was unremovable, forever adhered to him on account of its soul-binding property, but so too did it provide the utmost protection. It bestowed an ability that would allow him to eliminate Claire Augustus, even in the unlikely event that she managed to overpower him.


    And oh so unlikely it was.


    For Lucius Hyacinth had finally broken the limit.


    As his form had suggested, he was no longer a thorae. According to the system, he had finally gone above and beyond, reached the point where his personal race was no longer of any importance.


    For he was the aspect of the scrying eye.


    In just a few months, he had broken the 850 wall and become a force of nature. He had left all the nations¡¯ old lords in the dust and achieved in less than a single annum what they had failed in over a thousand. Granted, it was only made possible by his divine support. Without Kael¡¯ahruus and Olethra, he would have remained as one of the weak. But he had been chosen, chosen to wield the might of the great hunter and deliver to him his prey.


    Under Lucius¡¯ newfound dominion lay the power of observation. One of his newfound racial skills, The All-Seer, bestowed upon him the ability to do exactly as its name described. There was nothing that could sneak past his perfect vision, nothing that would escape the hunter¡¯s eyes. By invoking it, he could intercept the signals that went through his targets¡¯ visual lines and reproduce them within his own.


    And so he did just that.


    Closing his eyes and invoking the skill, he found an old oak oar. Information filled his head as soon as he looked upon it. He knew, all of a sudden, that it had come from a 17 year old tree that stood by the southernmost section of the river Angjorniea. It had three small cracks throughout the length of its interior structure, and it would certainly snap were he to use it in a building''s construction.


    And so too did he know its precise future, that in just under a third of a second, it would fly diagonally through his field of view and strike a poor fisherman right over the head.


    A dozen question marks flew through his head as he caught his target¡¯s reflection. He had commanded his divine sight to mirror all seen by Claire Augustus. And yet, in the flooded colosseum, there was mirrored only a four-eared fox. For a second, he thought he might have intercepted the wrong freak of nature. Or at least that was what he understood before his visual filters kicked in. They unraveled the spell and revealed her massive true form.


    The magical instruction set was surprisingly complex, a carefully woven override with a hundred layers of functionality and a thousand more of security. It fought back against his inbuilt decoder, but in the end, it failed to hold before his god-given ability.


    But all that meant was further confusion.


    He soon realised that his sworn enemy had forgone the idea of bettering her abilities to play a game of Fishermen and Freebooters.


    Lucius couldn¡¯t believe his eyes.


    It made no sense.


    She was supposed to be up in the mountains, preparing for their final confrontation. But there she was, out on the water, lightly smacking the citizenry as if to enjoy the winter solstice.


    It was like she didn¡¯t care, like she didn¡¯t see him as a threat in spite of his well-laid plans¡ªa thought that dyed his mind in a shade of red. But as much as he wanted to scream in frustration, to remind her with a distant arrow that her fate would soon be unraveled, he chose to stay his hand.


    Her folly would only tighten the noose around her neck and ensure that he would emerge the victor.


    Nodding to himself, he prepared to unlink their vision, only for a chill to run down his spine. All of a sudden, she was looking into the water, staring directly into her eyes¡ªhis eyes. For a moment, it looked like the illusion was broken. Her pupils narrowed into serpentine slits as they swirled with red and gold, but everything was back to normal before he could determine if any of it had really happened.


    Blinking rapidly, he shrugged off the impossible fear and returned his vision to the mountain range before him.


    It would be morning soon.


    The perfect opportunity to test his newfound powers.


    ___


    Chloe¡¯s eyes snapped open at the crack of dawn. Despite her concern, she was pleasantly surprised to find that she spent the night undisturbed. The jittern king still creeped her out¡ªhe continued to stare throughout the morning¡ªbut surely enough, he followed through on his word and led her to the stable soon after breakfast.


    The mount he offered was particularly bizarre. It was effectively a magic carpet, albeit one with a soft, pillowy seat and three chihuahua-like heads in front. Its rear sported a matching trio of tails, all of which wagged excitedly as she approached. According to the king, who continued to create illusions with his oddly paced speech, the creature was an arbvard. Their species was docile even though they were born above level 3000. They specialized in speed, and it was precisely because of said speed that they were capable of transporting her through the mountains.


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    Surely enough, the tri-pup followed her instructions exactly and carried her northwards, covering a full week¡¯s worth of time in just a single day. None of the local predators were able to slow it down. It zoomed right past them, running over the hills and far away before they could even think of approaching. The one time it stopped was at night. It shrank as the sun fell, becoming a full pack of pitbulls connected by a series of ribbons, each louder and more ravenous than the last.


    They demanded both feed and attention, forcing Chloe to spend half the night on sating them before they finally let her rest.


    They sped off again the next morning. The world grew colder and emptier as the day went on. Chloe had to throw on a large fur coat, which she discovered in the luggage that the jittern king had provided. The design was questionable, ugly at best given the many pug faces stitched directly into the fabric, but it managed to keep the winter from eating her alive.


    The local wildlife met much the same fate. The trees started to thin. There were two types among those left behind: the blooming pines who had adapted to the cold and won against the spirit of winter, and the frozen seedlings who found themselves unable to resist the frozen wilds¡¯ embrace.


    The fauna was no different. Creatures grew more scarce, and those that remained were often more ferocious. Giant phoenix bears, mice with mechanical wings, and elementals made purely of ice, just to name a few.


    Everything up north was different, changed, unfamiliar.


    Everything except for the blood that stained the snow.


    Splotches of dark red dyed the once-pure sheet, glimmering beneath the light of the evening sun. There were larger spots around areas where there was clearly conflict, as well as a trail that followed a set of tiny prints. Chloe didn¡¯t think much of it at first. After all, the markings were peculiarly shaped. They formed a series of long, thin lines, almost like something left behind by a group of snakes. But as she got closer, as the wind carried the scent to her nose, she found her heart pounding.


    She knew that blood.


    Its sweet taste still lingered all over her tongue from the rare instance where she could partake. Because, though it contained far more magic than usual, she knew at a glance. She knew from a whiff. That it belonged to her mistress.


    Arciel was bleeding.


    The long lines were from her tentacles.


    And the splotches situated beside them could only have meant that she continued to leak vital fluid as she limped away.


    Chloe gulped. It felt like her heart had stopped in her chest. The blood was at least a few hours old, but it was impossible to draw any conclusions. She simply didn¡¯t know enough about how the substance behaved in the cold to pinpoint the conditions or timeframe. But whatever the case, the trail was bad news. It was impossible for her mistress to leave any such print lest she lost a battle.


    It wasn¡¯t just because the level-ups would have long fixed her. She could easily mend her wounds by drinking any blood that wasn¡¯t her own. She surely would have recovered each time she felled an enemy. But she didn¡¯t. She had continued forward, pressed on whilst bearing an injury severe enough to have undone her transformation and caused buckets of crimson fluid to spill from within her. Arciel had lost against whatever she fought, and then she had fled. She had fled whilst marking her steps with blood, so that her enemy could follow.


    The only possibility that came to mind, no matter how hard Chloe thought, was that the hunters were first to arrive, that they had laced their arrows with poison, and that their sights had found her.


    It was just as she had feared, just as she had dreaded.


    Despite trying her best, despite pushing forward, and despite arriving ahead of schedule, she was far too late.


    Her lips trembled, her fingers shook, but Chloe took a deep breath and followed in her mistress¡¯ steps. She followed them almost halfway up the mountain, her concern only growing as she discovered a cave. The tracks led inside, continuing even as the world distorted. And not in the way it would have, had she entered a dungeon.


    Arciel was desperate enough to enter a crowned domain she knew nothing about.


    The maid gulped.


    She knew it was probably a trap. Arciel¡¯s trail was the only one. Their enemies had either left no prints, covered them up, or opted not to pursue her.


    There was even the off chance that her mistress was already dead, that they had just dragged her corpse along to lure their allies into rushing in. But so too was there a chance that Ciel was still alive.


    And as long as that chance remained, she knew that she could never give up.


    Nervously curling up her tail and stiffening her wings, Chloe took a breath and flicked the dog-chair¡¯s reigns. The magical sofa-carpet, however, was reluctant to advance. It shook its head and whined, so Chloe leapt off its back and pressed on alone.


    When she entered the domain, she found herself standing atop a lake. There wasn¡¯t any ice on top of it, nor was it quite shallow enough that her feet could reach the bottom. She was simply standing above the water, never entering it save for when she made the conscious decision. She didn¡¯t have the slightest clue as to how exactly it worked, but even her mistress¡¯ blood was still present. It floated atop the surface. Like patches of oil, the goopy blobs clung together, forming a veritable streak that marked her journey across the lake.


    It was only then that Chloe realised just how big the reservoir really was. No shoreline awaited beyond the trail. In fact, no shoreline awaited in any direction. The ruined temple in front of her aside, all she saw was lake and sky.


    There was some distance yet between the maid and the distant ruin, but she pushed forward on her own two feet, with her own strength and speed, and pursued the tracks again.


    They led up the temple¡¯s steps and through its missing door, past its broken altar and into its sanctified dungeon, down its eerie passages and past its bloody pits.


    The whole path was stained with Arciel¡¯s blood. It wasn¡¯t just hers. There was plenty of monster blood mingled in, but the path was devoid of corpses as ever.


    It didn¡¯t make sense.


    It had to be a trap.


    Still, Chloe pressed forward, never once straying from the crimson path.


    She kept her pace fast but steady, proceeding around corners, down steps, and through narrow corridors as quickly as she reasonably could.


    Until she heard a distant banging.


    Her ears weren¡¯t nearly sharp enough to make out any of the specifics. At best, she could tell that there was some sort of ongoing conflict. That much was clear from the way the ancient temple shook. The violent impacts continued as she drew closer, becoming ever more apparent with every step she took.


    So rapid was the pace that she couldn¡¯t help but fear for her mistress.


    Arciel¡¯s opponent was fast, likely too fast for the queen to handle, and even the open rooms were too small for her to take advantage of her range. She had no doubt that the queen was stalling, buying time whilst looking for a solution to an otherwise deadly encounter. So she picked up the pace. Ignoring any pain that appeared in her legs, she boosted to her maximum speed and did away with the distance.


    But even so, she found the battle concluded upon her arrival.


    A glimmering, golden golem shoved its mechanical blaster inside of a giant squid¡¯s mouth right as the maid entered the room. It pulled the trigger before she could so much as react to the scene and tore a hole straight through Arciel¡¯s mantle.


    Chloe gasped, screamed, cried as the buster rifle melted her mistress¡¯ flesh and fried the many vital organs hidden inside of her core. Only then did she notice the glimmering headpiece that sat atop the golden statue, the ornate circlet even larger than its humanoid face.


    Her mistress had challenged one of the crowned.


    And she had lost spectacularly.


    Or at least that was what she thought until the statue disintegrated. It broke to pieces, crumbling to dust as the vampire squid¡¯s wounds were healed.


    And with it, went the world around it.


    The crowned domain was shattered. Broken. Returned to oblivion, just like the master that ruled it.


    And yet, Arciel was unresponsive.


    She remained face down in the snow, unmoving until her body distorted. Her flesh frothed and bubbled. It almost seemed to melt away in the moonlight, to boil and vanish as if to never return.


    It wasn¡¯t the usual camouflage. Chloe had watched her mistress transform many, many times before. But never once were there any similar phenomena.


    She could only imagine that it meant her mistress¡¯ undoing, that Arciel had eliminated the crowned beast with her dying breath.


    But soon, she was reforged.


    She suddenly appeared in her humanoid form, stark naked and shivering in the snow. Her body was mostly translucent at first, but she became more opaque with each second that passed. Before long, she was back to normal, whole again in all of her sublime beauty.


    There wasn¡¯t a word exchanged between them.


    But just by looking at her, Chloe knew that she had changed.


    Right before her eyes, the queen of Vel¡¯khan had achieved her fourth ascension.


    And become the aspect of the stolen light.

 Chapter 451 - Trials and Tribulations

    Chapter 451 - Trials and Tribulations


    Claire idly stared at the horizon as she swam across the sky. She was about an hour out of Amrinia, already deep in the Langgbjerns, but she still felt like she was on break. She couldn¡¯t help it. Just yesterday, she was wandering around the city, buying everything and anything that happened to catch her eye. It almost felt like she had returned to her childhood and rediscovered her innocence, like the keen edge she had spent the past few years honing had been dulled by the moment of bliss. Of course, that was far from the case in reality, but she had certainly felt it in the moment.


    It didn''t help that the aerial predators were much less challenging than promised. Perhaps it was because they were still in the outskirts¡ªthey had just passed the first mountain, as Claire had yet to pick up any significant speed¡ªbut the monsters were so weak that she slaughtered them en masse between her lazy yawns.


    Most were vaguely distinguishable as being based on creatures that dwelled within the oceans. There were stingrays that had oysters in place of their wings, serpents made entirely of broken glass, and countless species of humanoid fish. Each was taller and more muscular than the last even though their heads remained human-sized. The largest among them were the cod, which stood two meters from shoulder to shoulder and six from head to foot. Though Claire was in her true form, their biceps were as thick as her body.


    Still, none of the fish were quite as interesting as the most powerful predators that flew around the outermost reaches. Technically, they were starfish, and their silhouettes matched the description. They had five long limbs that radiated from a central core and a single orifice beneath them that served as both an entrance and an exit. That, however, was where their normalcy came to an end. The individual limbs were made from different elements, with the particulars varying between individuals. The fleshiness of their cores was the only static feature, that and the naked, bald, half-rotting skulls protruding therefrom. The precise number varied between individuals. Some had only one, while others had as many as seven. Whatever the case, they shared three weapons between them, artifact-like metal barrels resembling the buster rifles mounted to Vella¡¯s wings.


    They almost proved intimidating, but Claire found them no more challenging than the vlasches and mushrooms that roamed the fields below. She tore them apart without once waking the fox fast asleep in her mane.


    Certainly, one could point to the fact that she had grown much stronger. Her racial class had gained a full 200 levels since she first invaded the northern land, but she doubted that she would have struggled too much against the starfish either way. The danger stemmed only from their numbers¡ªthey were literally all over the place¡ªand their defiance of gravity. Unlike birds, which could only stay airborne whilst maintaining a set minimum speed, the starfish could float for as long as they wanted simply by extending the sails between their arms. Their unpredictable movements were only made more dangerous by the projectiles they fired, which disoriented everything struck by way of nullifying gravity.


    Claire, however, was bound by no such rule in the first place, so she ploughed straight through them, gaining the occasional level as she made her way northward.


    She did consider ripping open a hole in spacetime and warping her way over, but continued lazily meandering her way along. Panda¡¯s warning certainly played a role in the decision, but it was a small one. In the end, she shot down the idea for the same reason she had chosen not to ramp up her speed: her final destination remained yet unknown.


    She needed to wake Sylvia to pinpoint its location, but she couldn¡¯t really be bothered. The fox was sleeping too peacefully, and she had clearly been drained from all the festival¡¯s excitement. Or at least, that was how it seemed. Claire still wasn¡¯t sure just how much sleep the lazy furball really needed, if she even needed it at all.


    Whatever the case, her actions were unchanged. She didn¡¯t feel like waking her, so she progressed slowly, lethargically, without a care in the world.


    Even the muscular salmon that feasted on the starfish were all readily ignored. As it turned out, they were surprisingly fragile, relying almost entirely on their overwhelming speed for the purposes of defense. Ending them was as easy as ripping them apart with her vectors.


    ¡°Claire.¡± The lazy adventure continued until a voice came atop her head. To her dismay, it wasn¡¯t Sylvia¡¯s. Another weight had suddenly appeared on top of her.


    ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on. That¡¯s no way to talk to your uncle now, is it?¡± asked Panda.


    ¡°Be glad I¡¯m not throwing you off.¡±


    ¡°Cheeky little shit. I liked you better when you gave me less lip.¡±


    ¡°And I liked you better before I knew who you were.¡±


    Panda laughed. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a shame, but you¡¯re gonna have to deal with me either way if you wanna cash in.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± said Claire, with a sigh. ¡°Get to the point. Where is it?¡±


    ¡°If by it, you mean the dungeon that Sylvia was telling you about the other day, then it¡¯s right in the middle of this whole ass mess.¡±


    Claire tilted her head.


    ¡°Can you sense ley lines?¡± asked Panda.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Pick one and follow it. Keep heading upstream, and you¡¯ll eventually get where you need to go.¡±


    ¡°Or, you could just point me in the right direction and I can head straight there. Without wasting my time tracing a ley line.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but that wouldn¡¯t be any fun,¡± he said. ¡°And it¡¯s not like you have the power to make me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not becoming a tamer just to brainwash you.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on,¡± muttered the raccoon. ¡°Tamers can be strong too, y¡¯know? It¡¯s just the most amazing concept.¡±


    ¡°Then where, exactly, is the god of taming?¡±


    ¡°All I¡¯m hearing is that opportunity¡¯s knocking.¡±


    ¡°For you, maybe.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll pass. I¡¯d rather make myself the god of mischief.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt that for a moment,¡± said Claire. She sighed as she turned her eyes on the ground. Pushing the clouds out of the way, she quickly located all of the places where the mana was thickest and slowly followed along.


    She toyed with the surrounding monsters as she flew, ripping the particularly delicate ones apart whilst harassing those that were a little bit tougher. The poor fools bound to the ground were raised and dropped haphazardly, earning a thousand barks, roars, and looks of resentment. It may as well have been an act of terrorism, more entertainment for herself than an efficient method of hunting.


    Neither spoke of the upcoming dungeon. One wanted to experience the challenge first hand, while the other got off on the idea of withholding the necessary information.


    They simply proceeded in silence, with the inbound monsters serving as the only source of its interruption. They grew more powerful with every mountain they passed, but Claire found them surprisingly destructible. Her magic was stronger than ever. The safe rate of its flow had doubled since the phantom¡¯s execution, but the strength of her spells had increased far more dramatically. It was hard to tell exactly how much stronger they were, given the lack of a proper measuring tool, but she found that even the vlasches had lost the ability to resist her strongest vectors¡ªnot that they made for the best benchmark.


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    Like the starfish, they had long become mere fodder, things to be hunted by the sentient, lizard-faced houses and the winged, eight-nosed pigs, who were in turn eaten by the fist-fighting ants and the giant, bladed whales.


    So on and so forth the circle of life continued, until they reached their destination. Looking upon it, Claire immediately heaved a sigh while Panda laughed his ass off. It was a little hard to tell from several hundred kilometers away, courtesy of all the thick snow, but Aurora¡¯s mountain differed greatly from all of the others. Giant patches of ice, true ice, shot up its length like the lines of a circuit. And so too did they share the function, guiding, redirecting an excessive number of greater ley lines straight into its core.


    If that wasn¡¯t obvious enough, then the surrounding area would surely have given it away regardless. The goddess¡¯ domain sat inside of a depression, rendering it roughly ten kilometers lower than its towering neighbours. Said neighbours were closer together than average, and their peaks were bent inwards, towards the core. It wasn¡¯t obvious from the angle that Claire had flown at¡ªshe was only about as high as their crowns¡ªbut rising further into the sky, she recognized that they formed a protective, spiraling wall around it.


    The holy mountain itself was entirely devoid of monsters. Not a single one dared to walk the sacred path that led up to the goddess¡¯ abode, or even approach. They refused to venture past the surrounding peaks, regardless of whether they crawled, walked, or flew.


    ¡°The dungeon¡¯s entrance is down there.¡± Panda pointed at a pair of pillars. ¡°The fox and I have already passed, so we¡¯ll be going another way.¡± He prodded at Sylvia, who was yawning and rubbing her eyes, as he waddled his way onto Claire¡¯s snout. ¡°Oh, and just so you know, there is technically a way to make this all safer.¡±


    ¡°Unnecessary,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Thought you¡¯d say that.¡± The raccoon smirked, and after taking a step, vanished right before her very eyes. ¡°Good luck.¡± The man in question was long gone, but his voice echoed through her head regardless.


    ¡°Are we there already?¡± Sylvia, who had been asleep for the whole three-hour journey, raised the question soon after they landed. Sliding off the snake-moose¡¯s back, she planted her feet in the snow while assuming her elven form. The dress that appeared along with her much larger body was paired with a thick wooly cloak and a pair of earmuffs, which sat around her non-vulpine ears.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Claire. ¡°Panda said you¡¯ll be taking a different entrance.¡±


    ¡°Mmnnn¡­ oh yeah, Aurora did say something about that,¡± said the fox. ¡°There¡¯s like this whole secret thing and I really want to tell you all about it, but I don¡¯t really want to spoil it.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t be long.¡± Claire gently pinched the foxgirl¡¯s nose with her talons. ¡°It¡¯s just one dungeon.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s a pretty tough one,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯s kinda like those thingies Al makes, and it gets harder as you get stronger.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire. ¡°My circuits are nearly fixed.¡±


    ¡°Last time I checked, eleven percent fixed isn¡¯t nearly fixed!¡±


    ¡°Close enough.¡±


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°It is. Now stop worrying.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s way easier said than done,¡± said the fox.


    ¡°I know. But I¡¯ll be fine. I promise.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I won¡¯t be worried.¡± Sylvia beckoned Claire¡¯s face a little closer before wrapping her arms around her snout, and pressing her forehead to her icy horn. ¡°Do your best.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡± Claire wrapped her body around the half-elf and gave her a bit of a squeeze. Ostensibly, it was a hug, though it more closely resembled an attempt at strangulation.


    Sylvia still seemed to want to say something, but Claire unraveled her body and passed through the gate before she could. The dungeon must have been incredibly difficult for both the fox and the raccoon to behave the way they did, and the thought of the challenge had her heart pumping.


    Log Entry 918993


    You have entered the dungeon known as The Dead Dragon¡¯s Den. This is a divine trial, issued by Aurora, the goddess of the frozen wilds.


    Please wait while the goddess calibrates the trial to provide an optimal experience.


    Ignoring the spinning circle hovering below the log entry, Claire turned her eyes on her surroundings. She had half expected to be taken into a sort of mystical realm, but much of the world was identical. The same mountain formation enclosed the area around her, and the same magical lines ran through the world at her feet. If she had to name one difference, it was that the shortest of the mountains was gone. The towering mass of ice and rock that clearly belonged to the goddess of the frozen wilds had been replaced by a massive crater. Waves of divinity pulsed through the basin, further concentrating the ambient power with every subsequent tick.


    Log Entry 918994


    Calibration complete. You are qualified to challenge this dungeon at difficulty level 3/EX+24.


    Claire regarded the box with a tilt of the head before continuing forward. Without a point of reference, the provided code was impossible to interpret.


    3/EX+24 designates a difficulty level 24 steps above the most difficult predefined standard for an individual with three ascensions. The individual known as Allegra Cedr would have qualified for 3/EX+29 at the time she most recently entered the mountains.


    The lyrkress nodded silently. She still didn¡¯t have the best idea of exactly how much of a difference each increment made, but the evaluation seemed to place her just a bit below Allegra. In her mind at least, that was probably accurate. But so too was it an affront to her pride.


    ¡°Raise it to 30.¡±


    3/EX+30 is an appropriate rating in the circumstance that your magic circuits are repaired to 50% efficacy. 3/EX+24 is appropriate, given the state of your body.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Claire. ¡°Raise it.¡±


    ¡­Request acknowledged. The difficulty of this dungeon has been raised to 3/EX+30.


    Another six pulses rang through the dungeon. They seeped into the land, as if marinating it in their raw power. The accompanying box disappeared, as if to escape further complaint¡ªnot that there were any inbound. Claire had already turned her attention to the violently shaking mountains. It almost seemed like someone had grabbed the planet and started bouncing it up and down.


    She didn¡¯t escape the earthquakes until she rose into the air. Only then did she look down at the world and recognize the crater as the source of all the instability.


    It was starting to crack apart, to morph and twist out of shape. But at the same time, it almost seemed to be stitching itself back together. It didn¡¯t make any sense. She couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of anything until the rumbling accelerated.


    All of a sudden, the snow melted away to reveal a set of brown, dying grasses. They slowly rose from their weakened states, their petals picking themselves off of the ground to form flowers, then buds, then nothing of note. It was the same process that the waterways followed. They trickled as winter turned to fall, ran during the summer, and leaked like faucets when it was finally time for spring, only to freeze again as the cold returned.


    The sun moved backwards.


    The moon wandered about.


    Over and over, the cycle repeated, accelerating with every day lost.


    Until it halted, stopping abruptly on a particular frame.


    The world that day was dark. Blackened clouds gathered overhead, pouring acid upon the crater. Only by the descending bolts was the steady rain matched. Every three seconds, they fell from the sky like clockwork, indicative perhaps of Tzaarkus¡¯ presence.


    And yet, the mother was at peace, resting atop her eggs without a care in the world.


    Even though her body had long decayed.


    She was made of naught but skin and bones, and it was generous to describe her even as that. For the few bits of skin that decorated her body were tiny flaps of flesh, little bits still present only because they were caught on her bones. Her nature was effectively skeletal. She had no meat and no organs. And yet, she warmed her nest.


    The flames she blew from her lips nurtured her children, preserving their lives, even as she was without her own.


    Or at least that was how it might have appeared to one outside of her species.


    Because as a true dragon, she had no need for flesh.


    Her lack of organs made it impossible for her to perform body functions like reproduction and greatly limited her ability to engage in natural flight. Likewise, she needed to rely on more than biology to perform any breath-based attacks. But by all accounts, the dragoness was still alive.


    She was not like the inferior races, who needed eyes to see, brains to think, or circuits to cast. Simply by existing, she maintained all of the functions in question. She could even feel if she wanted, just as she felt each time she pressed her snout to her hatchlings.


    Still, it was certainly correct to interpret the mother as being much closer to death than a flesh-laden specimen.


    Her state was born entirely of a desperate struggle, a conflict that had led her to sacrifice her flesh for power¡ªa gamble that had certainly paid off. It was because she cast it aside, offered it to the gods, that she had gained the strength she needed to stave off the intruders who wished to loot her nest.


    It could never be returned, no matter how much she leveled. And even if she were to ascend, she had little choice but to become an infertile celestial.


    She could never produce another brood.


    And that was precisely why she was so determined to guard the one that lay beneath her, so determined to incinerate the fool who had dared to invade her crater.

 Chapter 452 - Trials and Tribulations II

    Chapter 452 - Trials and Tribulations II


    Claire tilted her head and mreeped as she watched the skeletal lizard rise from its nest. From head to toe, it stood roughly twenty meters tall. It might have been able to reach thirty had it straightened its back, but it sported an awkward, forward tilt that was only further emphasized by the way it craned its neck and opened its jaws. Evidently, it was a roar, albeit a failed one, performed without any consideration for its lack of organs.


    The so-called dragon seemed to realise this as well, as it raised a talon to its missing lips and cleared its throat before repeating the gesture. The second time around, it supplemented the feigned scream with a burst of mana and produced precisely the sort of deep, guttural wail expected of the towering colossus.


    But apparently, not even that was quite enough, as it shook its head and whispered itself a few words of encouragement before making a third attempt. Only then, after it laced the sound waves with magic and shook the mountain again, did it finally nod in satisfaction.


    Claire almost broke into laughter. It didn¡¯t help that the bone dragon covered its face with its talons to hide a supposed blush when it realized that she was staring blankly, not at all intimidated by its feral scream. In a way, the creature almost reminded her of Sylvia. At the very least, it was just as silly.


    Still, they would fight to death.


    Claire was first to return her attention to the impending conflict. She looked briefly at Boris and Starrgort, both of whom had been knocked off of her tail during the preceding earthquakes, before beckoning the former with a vector.


    She cloned him seven times on his way over and set up an array of blades behind her. Each was in a different configuration; there was a lance for ramming, a hammer for smashing its bones, and a sword for general use. She had even turned one particularly heavy Boris into a staff, in case she needed to focus on casting.


    It almost seemed likely. The dragon¡¯s still-raised stance suggested it was probably more of a mage than a close-combatant. Its aura only furthered the impression. Magic and divinity poured from its body like water from an open faucet. And it was precisely with a combination thereof that the dragon launched its first attack.


    Flapping its fleshless wings, it summoned a torrent of roaring fire, a dozen waves of calamitous flames over a hundred meters tall. The particular choice of magic didn¡¯t seem like the wisest choice on a day so wet and grimy, but its raw firepower blew any such consideration straight out of the water.


    A series of steam explosions followed its path. Every raindrop it touched was instantly superheated, obliterated without a trace. Not a single spark had made contact with the rocky crater. And yet, all the material was melted, either turned to glass or bubbling mush. Even Starrgort scuttled out of the way to avoid the white-hot flame.


    Claire, however, remained exactly where she was. Simply lowering her stance, she dashed straight through the fire with Boris drawn and ready. The dragon didn¡¯t catch on until she emerged unscathed and swung her hammer towards its jaw. Though caught off guard, the monster avoided the attack with a simple twist of the head. It countered by slapping the lyrkress with its wings, but she ducked between its bones. Evading the accompanying tailstrike, Claire made a beeline for its spine. But again, even though she had extended it threefold, her hammer found nothing but air. The dragon had readily sidestepped the blow.


    Claire flicked her tongue as she attacked with the other seven Borises, but again, the dragon ducked and weaved. Despite its size, it carried itself as lightly as a bloom in the wind. It even raised its arms overhead and spun on one leg to evade the last few strikes.


    The smug ballerina maintained its act until the next barrage was launched. Claire doubled the number of Borises and sent all of them flying at once. Each lizard¡¯s vector was independently computed, calculated such that the differently shaped and weighted weapons would all land in tandem.


    And that was precisely why the dragon made use of an irritatingly familiar function and suddenly shrank to a tenth its prior size.


    A light in its cold, dead eyes, it spun right past the barrage of floating weapons and opened its mouth to counter. It spent a copious amount of divinity to create and flood a fresh set of magic circuits. They were placed where its lungs once were and leveraged to expel a flaming breath. As was with the case of the roar, the skeletal lizard lacked the means to propel the attack with its organs, so it compensated by crafting a barrel of wind.


    Having inherited the property from Claire, the Borises were entirely immune to fire. And yet, their bodies were melted, damaged for the first time since they had entered the Langgbjerns. If not for Dorr¡¯s blessing, they surely would have been destroyed. Instead, the lizards blinked, looking at each other before shaking as the goop and returning to their previous forms.


    Finally, it was the dragon¡¯s turn to find itself annoyed. Growling under its breath, it dug its feet into the ground and arched its back, as if to take an even deeper breath whilst reconstructing its circuits¡ªthe first set had fallen apart, following its fiery attack.


    Alas, no such opportunity was given.


    Claire teleported behind the dragon and wrapped her serpentine body around it. She squeezed as tightly as she could, forcing the air from its non-existent lungs and stealing its mana before it could complete its breath. Both her grip and her position were solid. All she needed to do was squeeze.


    But no matter how hard she pressed, she found her efforts ignored. The dragon simply flexed its shoulders and pushed her away, forcibly dislodging her from its body without so much as the slightest effort.


    It followed the attack by snapping its jaws at her neck, but she smacked Boris into its throat and sent it flying away.


    Claire transformed as soon as she landed the attack. Turning humanoid, she ripped open a portal in the monster¡¯s path and struck it as soon as it entered her range. Her hammer rang true; it made a heavy clunk as it landed square in the dragon¡¯s jaw. By all means, it was a devastating blow. Boris was at his maximum weight, and she had backed it with the full force of her body and her vectors.


    And yet, she found that the skeleton was undamaged. Even though she had struck the thinnest part of its face, it took the hit in stride.


    Skidding to a halt just a few dozen meters away, it steadied itself with a flap of the wings and gave her an irritatingly smug smile.


    She could tell that the dragon was cocky. Returning to its full size, it stood up straight and beckoned her with its talons, urging her to take the initiative. And so she did. Ripping open another portal, she teleported to its nest and prodded its eggs with her feet. The colour surely would have drained from the oversized lizard¡¯s face had said face still existed. It immediately rushed over, running comically with its limbs flailing all over in its panic, only for Claire to step back through the gate and stick out her forked tongue.


    Of course, the dragon was less entertained. Huffing and puffing from its non-existent lungs, it took on a humanoid form whilst wreathing its body in magic. Crafting another layer of circuits, it warped the surging mana into a cloak of wind. Covering the dragon¡¯s bones, the verdant energy became a layer of false flesh. Upon its completion, the storm was further enhanced by a flaming dress, a beautiful strapless A-line that accented her fabricated proportions.


    She was an older woman, close to a human in her late forties. Even through her magic, her wrinkles were immediately apparent, but not at all to her detriment. She had aged like a fine wine; the folds in her skin only accentuated her beauty, enhancing it and providing it with a flavour that no younger woman could have possibly embodied.


    Not counting her horns, the curvy, buxom dragoness was more than a full head taller than the halfbreed, with much of it stemming from the length of her legs. Her tail was shorter and thicker than Claire¡¯s, and her claws were much bulkier. Wreathed in the same fire as her dress, they were girthy and vicious, easily capable of tearing a man in two.


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    She opened her mouth to speak, but Claire had already closed the distance between them. She drove Boris, who she had turned into a dagger, straight through the dragoness¡¯ throat, only to find it stopped.


    There was a loud scraping sound as the weapon¡¯s edge was deflected by a patch of scale.


    Though it was made of mana, the former skeleton¡¯s body was not without substance.


    Claire sensed the impending danger. A quick glance at the dragoness¡¯ eyes sufficed to inform her that there was an attack inbound. It was aimed at the pit of her stomach, the fleshiest and most vulnerable part of her body. And she couldn¡¯t evade it. The arm was moving too quickly. She¡¯d never be able to open a portal in time.


    But by spinning her body, slapping the dragoness¡¯ limb with her tail, and further pushing with a vector, she was able to redirect it. It flew up the length of her ribs and over one of her shoulders. Her armour, her clothes, and her skin, all of it was ripped apart by the storm that was the dragon¡¯s claw.


    The accompanying fire should have healed her, or at least had little effect, but it only added to the violence. The briefest moment of contact had shredded her flesh to bits.


    Another identical attack followed, led by the dragon¡¯s other hand, but Claire wasn¡¯t about to be caught twice. Stealing the momentum from the claw strike, she sent herself catapulting into the air.


    She traced the fresh wounds with the opposite hand and sealed them with a layer of true ice before transforming Boris into a giant axe and launching into a spinning smash. The attack was more polished than the time she used it on the giant mushroom, and more importantly, backed by far more brute strength.


    And yet, it was blocked, easily deflected by the swipe of the claws. At most, she had managed to chip one of the talons, but the accompanying crack was fixed as quickly as it was made¡ªa fact that hadn¡¯t held true for Boris. He took a fair bit of damage on impact, and the continued contact was slowly rotting his blade. Even cloaked in her mana, he couldn¡¯t hold up when faced with the concept of destruction.


    Flicking her tongue, Claire backed off before the dragon could counter and escaped into a portal that led to the edge of the crater. The dragon charged immediately, but she grabbed its limbs with her vectors and sent it plummeting into the ground. She pressed down on it after it fell, crushing it with raw gravitational force, but unsurprisingly, she found that it wasn¡¯t so easily suppressed. The monster soon rose to its feet and roared, even though its weight had been increased by well over a factor of a thousand.


    It launched into another attack, but Claire opened a couple of portals in advance and sent its claws straight into its own back. She watched carefully as both its wings and its talons were destroyed and rebuilt, only to teleport away again whilst commanding a nearby Boris to open its mouth.


    Grabbing the tube within, she ripped the cork out with her teeth and dumped its gloopy red contents down her throat. She hated its overly sweet flavour, but just as expected of one of Alfred¡¯s concoctions, its effect was immediately apparent. Her whole body grew colder, calmer, as her circuits were brought back to life.


    She had only five of the stabilizers on hand, four now that she had committed one. They were precious resources, key items she dared not find herself without. Alas, the exchanges had confirmed the need. She probably wasn¡¯t besting the dragoness without them.


    And surely enough, her moose senses kicked in as soon as her circuits were temporarily restored, finally ascertaining that her foe could fall to her blade.


    The first thing she did was emulate its magic.


    She copied the formula almost exactly, subbing out the parts that invoked wind and fire for a series of characters that crafted true ice.


    It wasn¡¯t quite perfect, but it worked on the first try; a thick layer of true ice coated her talons and her lizard in turn, enchanting both with the destructive property innate to dragonkind. Looking at the result with her eyes filled with divinity, she found her version to be less powerful. But it only made sense. She had stolen a number of draconic features during her last two ascensions, but she had shied away from becoming Builledracht¡¯s kin.


    But in the end, the difference was negligible. Sprouting a pair of giant, ice-blue wings, Claire crossed the crater with a burst of speed and rammed her lizard into the dragoness¡¯ claws. Neither her sword nor her talons took any damage from the clash; the true ice easily made up for the difference wrought by the purity of their blood. If anything, the advantage was hers; the strike had left a faint streak of ice amidst the dragon¡¯s fire.


    Pressing forward, Claire launched into a flurry of blows. The dragon tried to defend, but she pushed its talons away and warped its counters straight into its joints. Being only a little faster than her, it had no way to fight back against her shapeshifting, physics-defying barrage. She could have easily ended the fight then and there by simply draining the dragon¡¯s magic, but Claire allowed it to struggle.


    She had five minutes to unleash her magic as she wished. She wasn¡¯t about to let the battle end before even one had passed.


    Backing away, the dragon prepared a fiery breath¡ªa breath Claire matched with one of her own. She began as usual, by digging her feet into the ground and sucking in two lungfuls of air. But rather than simply engaging the spell, as she had on every occasion, she carried forward the dragon¡¯s behaviour.


    She didn¡¯t copy it exactly. She wasn¡¯t quite good enough at manipulating her divinity to forge a fresh set of circuits¡ªnot that she had any intention of truly using her divinity in the first place¡ªbut she was able to rearrange and reinforce what she had. One look had already informed her. The circuits that dragons used for their breath were configured differently from the generic circuits that she had all over her body. They had several extra layers of protection, and they were wired more loosely, using stacked layers instead of hyperfocusing on the efficiency of each.


    The magical formula she used was likewise tweaked, adjusted ever so slightly from the usual circuit. All of the optimizations and changes more than halved the amount of mana she spent, bringing the total cost down to about a quarter million. And yet, the result was a stark improvement. The breath she unleashed was not the usual mist, but a blast of raw magical power.


    But perhaps because it was her first attempt, it was still lacking in substance. The dragoness¡¯ breath blew hers away, forcing her to step out of the way.


    Round two, she performed a little bit better. By tweaking the formula and supplying a little more magic, her breath was able to hold for a few moments before scattering to the winds.


    And then with her third, she finally nailed it.


    She produced a jet of heavy, cold air that carried all of the usual properties and met the dragoness in a stalemate. Still, she modified it even further. Attempts four, five, and six all ended in unstable failures, but her seventh produced something that more closely resembled an arcane pulse than a regular breath.


    It was an all consuming frost ray that instantly froze everything in its path, including the dragon she had learned from.


    Claire immediately prepared a follow-up. She filled a nearby Boris with three million points of mana and rebuilt half his body with true ice. Holding him between her fingers, she dug her feet into the ground and prepared to hurl him.


    She was ready for round two, ready to guzzle another stabilizer and draw out the dragoness¡¯ full strength.


    But her target had already crumbled to dust.


    Log Entry 918995


    You have slain a level 1498 Zephine Dragon Matriarch.


    This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:


    - 1209 points of agility


    - 490 points of dexterity


    - 577 points of spirit


    - 200 points of strength


    - 95 points of vitality


    - 3815 points of wisdom


    Log Entry 918996


    You have leveled up.


    Your titular class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has reached level 107.


    You have gained 2000 ability points.


    Claire blinked.


    She hadn¡¯t expected the dragon to die so easily or give so little. She was half prepared for it to burst out of the statue and charge her, rather than simply disintegrating. Its level was equally disappointing. She was starting to suspect that she had tricked herself into thinking that there was a challenge to be had, and that she had effectively wasted one of Alfred¡¯s stabilizers on nothing.


    Or at least, that was what she thought before she started towards the eggs.


    The world started to shake again, but not because they were going back in time again.


    No.


    It was because of the raw magic that had suddenly filled the air.


    Turning towards its source, she found a whole flight of dragons, led by a furious young male with a chain-link tail. If the unique feature didn¡¯t give him away, then his dark scales and his rampant divinity certainly would have filled the gaps.


    She knew he was just a shade born of the dungeon, a pale copy that held but a fraction of his power.


    But even then, his presence was crushing.


    For his name was Builledracht.


    And though not yet the god of curses, his aura made it clear.


    Even in his youth, he had always been almighty.

 Chapter 453 - Trials and Tribulations III

    Chapter 453 - Trials and Tribulations III


    ¡°Mother.¡± Builledracht growled as he stared at the disintegrated statue, his eyes following the specks of dust as they faded in the wind. Only after they were gone, dispersed into a billion pieces, did he turn towards the invader, aghast, so horrified that even his disbelief was in disbelief. ¡°You killed my mother!¡±


    It took only a moment for his distress to turn to rage¡ªpure, unbridled rage. His aura exploded outwards, faster than his draconic flight could scatter. A third of those swallowed were sent plummeting from the sky, their bodies turned rotten from the slightest touch of his aura. The remainder didn¡¯t fare much better. It was only with some difficulty that they dragged themselves out of range, curses under their breaths all the while.


    Claire, however, remained entirely unharmed. She kept his aura at bay with her vectors, splitting it like a stream before she was caught up in its insanity. It corrupted everything it touched. The clouds were turned to ash, and the rain converted to acid. Even the lightning bolts fell victim to his grasping death, their raw energy depleted on contact. Certainly, it was a sort of innate curse magic, an ode to his element much like her aura of ice, but so too was it draconic in its all-destroying nature. And yet, despite having clearly seen its mass destruction with her own two eyes, she had to fight the yankering temptation to stick a finger in the flow. After all, she had four minutes of magic remaining. Her wasteful attacks had depleted much of the raw capacity, but that was hardly a problem. She still felt invincible, high on the sheer strength that her stabilized circuits had brought her.


    Alas, she was denied the opportunity to ride the wave.


    Having closed the distance in a heartbeat, the black dragon forced her attention upon him.


    He had a pair of large goggles over his draconic face and a curious leather vest that spanned the length of his body. From his back, he drew a massive blade, long as his body and nearly twice as thick. Its edge was as black as the night, and the handle sported a thick, hooked design made specifically for use with talons, a design she stole in a heartbeat.


    The greatsword wasn¡¯t his only weapon. A pair of wooden hand cannons¡ªnormal cannons for non-dragon-sized creatures¡ªhung off of the leather belt on his waist. Like the daggers that sat beside them, the guns were engraved with a series of glowing runes. They were clearly dangerous. The sheer workmanship that went into the individual pieces was proof of their outstanding quality. And yet, her eyes were drawn to everything else. All of the little satchels and pockets that dotted his outfit were bursting with magic; the items held within them were even more potent than his regular arms.


    If she had to guess, he was probably a rogue, an alchemist, or something else that functioned in a similar vein. Whatever the case, he was dangerous, dangerous enough that her moose sense refused to acknowledge the possibility of his death.


    His gaze was not nearly as appraising as hers. There was nothing about his behaviour to suggest that he was thinking, or even remotely intelligent for that matter. Rising higher like a fool, he continued haphazardly scattering his magic about, in spite of the damage done to his servants.


    ¡°Kill her!¡± he shouted.


    Not at all minding their lives, the remaining dragons charged through his curses with their maws wide open and molten flames brimming within them. But Claire was not the least bit concerned. She opened a portal in front of her lips and breathed a light breath of her own. It wasn¡¯t the potent laser-like attack with which she had finished the humanoid dragoness, but the mistier kind that she had first learned. It was refined, of course. She had taken all of her recent power and efficiency gains and paired them with her less conspicuous projectile.


    One by one, her targets fell from the sky, their lungs filled with ice and their organs frozen over. Only the flock¡¯s weakest members died from just the breath alone. The others were pounded into the ground, bound by a sudden change in gravity. Half had their bodies riddled with Boris-shaped holes. The rest had their spines ripped out and torn to pieces, sometimes returned to their flesh through some orifice or other.


    From that alone, nearly half of her attackers were finished. Of the thirty who fell, only two measured above level 1000. It was obvious at a glance which ones were and weren¡¯t. The ascended had bulkier bodies, plated with thick, bladed scales, coloured by their choice of element. Their equipment, while not quite as eccentric as Builledracht¡¯s, was also far fancier, often adorned with gadgets the likes of which required much smaller hands to assemble.


    Though they were still fodder, free experience to prepare Claire to face their master, the experience that came with their levels was hardly unmerited. One of the particularly quick-witted among them had already started screaming about a potential resistance to fire.


    Said vocal dragon was the first one she attacked. Opening a portal, she escaped Builledracht, who was charging with his giant sword raised, and appeared directly behind her target.


    He spun around in a panic when he sensed her magic and narrowly dodged her first strike, but that was the extent of his evasion. Boris transformed into a hook mid-swing and latched onto his tail before releasing the spell meant for Builledracht¡¯s mother.


    The ice moved like it had a mind of its own. It entered the wound and spread through the dragon¡¯s circuits, seizing control of them in a heartbeat.


    And then, using the dragon''s own magic as fuel, the material suddenly expanded, growing in just a scant few seconds from a series of thin lines into a glacial blossom. Made up of giant icy spikes, the resulting object was far larger than the creature that contained it. And as dragons were only so stretchy, the end result went without saying.


    Bits of lizard rained from the sky. It was almost impossible to tell which pieces were what. Even the internal organs had exploded, courtesy of the mana veins that ran within them¡ªa result that left Claire with a bit of a frown. For the most part, the spell had worked as intended, but the implementation was still lacking. She would need to adjust the formula and freeze the target more quickly if she wanted the detonation to be any less moist.


    It wasn¡¯t the only observation she made. Casually scanning her surroundings, she¡¯d found that each dragon¡¯s spell was tweaked a little differently. Only the skeletal ones had their formulae on open display, and for good reason. So long as one had all the necessary draconic components, they weren¡¯t all too hard to copy.


    In that sense, the magic was primitive, perhaps even underdeveloped. And it was with that thought that Claire weaved a spell that took Allegra¡¯s teachings to heart. Its complexity demanded a chant, so she quickly crafted one from the usual pieces. With a verse about the fall winds, a second about winter¡¯s grasp, and a third about the biting cold, she told a story about the dragons¡¯ eradication, their eventual, hungering demise at the barren land¡¯s hand.


    Her chilling tale was accompanied by an equally chilling smile, every bit as invincible as she felt, even though the stabilizer was on the verge of running its course. It wasn¡¯t because of the time. She had only spent a few seconds in combat with the winged army, but she had nearly burned through the five million points that each of the potions was good for.


    The dragons, however, had no way of knowing. Reflected in their eyes was little beyond the infinite confidence she put on full display.


    They confronted it at first. The melee fighters flew into close quarters and tore at her with their claws, the mages worked all manner of draconic magic, and their hunters fired their cannons. But none of them were able to reach her. All of their attacks were caught by strange rifts in the sky and directed towards their companions.


    It was like she was a prophet, someone protected by the gods. Or perhaps, she might have been one herself. Either way, they began to balk, to feel fear in their hearts when their leader demanded a continued assault.


    Said leader was precisely the center of Claire¡¯s attention. She pointed a finger at Builledracht as the final verse escaped her lips and clenched it into a fist with the last word¡¯s departure.


    The black dragon immediately threw up his guard. Grabbing a stone from the pouch on his waist, he broke it in half to activate its protective effect. A powerful barrier formed around his body, an almighty shield capable of taking a blow from a god.


    A shield that had not even the slightest effect.


    Because he was never her target.


    It was all a ruse to make him show his hand, a ruse for the others to lower their guards. And every single one of her victims had fallen hook, line, and sinker.


    Allowing only a faint smile to appear on her lips, Claire and Builledracht watched in turn as the spell¡¯s effects took hold, one party in satisfaction, and the other in abject horror.


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    Though it didn¡¯t use true ice, like the last spell she had decided to unleash, it worked off a set of similar properties. It began as a simple snowstorm, an ordinary, everyday blizzard that flooded the skies with white. And at first, it seemed harmless. After all, none of the targets were immediately subject to obvious harm. But a brief delay saw that changed.


    The snowflakes were like seeds. They would take root upon contact and slowly sap resources from their newfound surroundings before erupting into icy blossoms. Shaped more like castors than roses, their petals were made of jagged spikes, sharpened pillars that ripped through their victim¡¯s skin. At its core, the magic was draconic; its damage was enhanced by way of the species¡¯ propensity for destruction, leading tiny cuts to transform into messy gashes. Of course, that was hardly where it ended. Claire¡¯s spell was designed with Cadrian warriors in mind, and such a half-hearted attack was unlikely to fell even one.


    Where the gashes were made, so too did the process start anew. Even if the victims were to heal their flesh, new blossoms would sprout beneath it, a cycle that fed off the target¡¯s own mana, repeating until it ran bone dry.


    If the dragons were at their true strength, they likely would have emerged alive. But weakened for the trial as they were¡ªsomehow, she knew that their hatchlings emerged from their eggs at level 1000¡ªthey stood no chance against the grievous wounds. Like flies, they dropped, plummeting from the sky, leaving only their master to face the half-blooded intruder.


    Claire retrieved a fresh Alfredian vial and downed its contents while Builledracht ranted and fumed. She didn¡¯t really care what exactly it was that he had to say. The few bits she caught amounted to little more than self-righteous bullshit, likely something the man got over long before he ascended to godhood. And that was assuming that the copy was true to form. For all she knew, it may as well have been something Aurora had hacked together to poke fun at the god of curses.


    The courtesy of the first move was disregarded. Claire seized it for herself as she allowed her divinity to course through her body. She directed it to expand from her circuits and spread to every last cell, to wrap itself around her, in her entirety, precisely as the phantom had once taught.


    Against anything else, it may as well have been cheating. But all was fair against a god-to-be.


    The world almost seemed to freeze as time slowed to a crawl. Numbers popped up all around her¡ªmeasurements and detailed descriptors precisely as denoted by the system. She could count every speck of dust within her field of view and trace every particle of snow as it fell from the heavens. She could see every one of Builledracht¡¯s muscles as they twitched unconsciously in response to the change in her presence.


    Though certainly enhanced as well, her body wasn¡¯t quite capable of keeping up with her mind. It felt like she was trudging through a pile of snow, slowly pulling it along as she struggled against the forces of nature. And in fact, she did exactly that. She could feel every particle of air that she pushed out of the way. If she wanted, she likely could have counted the impurities wrought by all the rampant dragonfire and reverse engineered precisely the amount of each chemical produced. But while time was certainly much slower than it was when her circuits were still mangled, she wasn¡¯t quite that free.


    Builledracht was slowly moving his body. A quick look at the exact muscles he¡¯d activated suggested that he was about to charge and deliver a heavy, overhead swing at exactly 63 degrees. If his strength was truly 12,573,364 as the system described, blocking it directly was completely outside the realm of possibility, given that he was enhancing it with his divinity.


    His use of divine force was a little on the sloppier side. And for that, she was thankful. It was the only reason that she could almost catch up to his speed, in spite of the fact that his agility was over ten times higher on paper.


    As far as magic resistance went, he was better than even the best of his peers. His arms barely budged when she tugged on them with her vectors. It was only as she started to push and pull on the individual muscles that his response broke down. He tried to readjust, but his efforts amounted to little beyond a downward spiral. He only became easier to manipulate as the strength was sapped from his limb. By pushing in the direction opposite her applied force, he did little but give the opportunity to facilitate his newfound motion.


    As far as Claire was concerned, it didn¡¯t matter exactly which way the arm was misplaced, only that she changed its trajectory. After all, the sword was never poised to land. The victory was strictly moral, elicited for the sole purpose of demonstrating her express superiority.


    She was a fraction of his size. Sure, his blade was heavy, but the towering, dragon-sized greatsword was only sharp for the scale at which it was wielded. It wasn¡¯t going to be making any clean cuts on a creature that stood at her height. Most of the force was channeled into knocking her out of the air.


    And even then, she needed only to transfer her momentum to a snowflake before she hit the ground.


    Claire fought back the urge to giggle.


    For a divine trial, especially one supposedly calibrated to her strength, it almost seemed too easy.


    She wasn¡¯t quite back up to 100%. She couldn¡¯t use any of her more expensive spells without instantly evaporating the stabilizer. Her realm, for example, was expressly off limits, and many of her racial abilities were yet offline. She couldn¡¯t quite say for certain, but she suspected that all that would have long been back in working order if she were really half healed.


    In its current state, the trial would have amounted to next to nothing.


    Her confidence remained even as Builledracht threw his sword into the air in favour of gripping his cannons. She leisurely watched him throughout the process, not bothering to intervene with his efforts. She had long confirmed that, once mastered, her divinity had no effect on the state of her circuits. The apparent eternity that had elapsed was about a fiftieth of a second in reality. With the world at a standstill, she could waste as much time as she wanted.


    It wasn¡¯t like the cannons posed much of a threat. She had already examined their formulae and confirmed that they may as well have been toys, simple arcane blasters that converted his power into heat and light.


    She wasn¡¯t even sure why exactly he had them until she realised the sheer amount of magic poured within each gun. Each contained a hundred million points, more magic than her body could even contain.


    The resulting blasts were quick, their movements difficult to track even with time dilated, but while they had certainly caught Claire off guard, she found them entirely irrelevant.


    Doing the math in her head, without the system¡¯s assistance, she simply opened two portals in front of her. And so Builledracht¡¯s wings were torn.


    They began to heal right away, mending before he lost any more than a modicum of height. Only then did he seem to understand the crisis he was in and resort to his most powerful abilities. But there was a bit of a problem.


    Claire knew the last dragon¡¯s future.


    She knew that he was never truly a rogue, but a mage in disguise, most notably a mage specialized in the casting of curses.


    A small part of her wanted to sit around and wait, to allow him to show his hand, just to examine the end result. Most of his curses were fairly harmless, comical in the sense that they demanded only the most mundane suffering. Case in point, the famed curse that would cripple its target with severe constipation, only to immediately vacate their bowels in the case that they were the subject of ten people¡¯s observation. There was the curse that would greatly enhance one¡¯s sense of smell, but only for the foulest and most putrid of scents. And then there was the curse that would prevent one¡¯s nether regions from functioning in the presence of true love. Certainly, they were terrible ailments, fates meant solely for the vermin that scurried through the gutters of society, but it wasn¡¯t as if they were of much use in battle.


    She wanted to see the methods he employed in times of crisis, if not to steal them, then at least to sate her curiosity. Alas, she knew that the advantage was illusory. She couldn¡¯t give even a single step without gambling her control over the battlefield¡ªthe one thing that kept her ship from sinking.


    Claire summoned twenty Borises at once. Turning them into needles, she teleported them into the gaps between Builledracht¡¯s scales. Sprouting legs again, upon reaching their destinations, they buried themselves into his skin and attacked the sensitive nerve endings therein.


    Of course, the pinpoint assault was far more than just a means of harassment. The Borises soon resorted to thievery. They sucked the dragon¡¯s health and mana, stealing it haphazardly between their lazy yawns.


    Builledracht tried and failed several times to construct whatever spell it was he happened to have in mind, his face paling with every subsequent attempt.


    But even so, he wasn¡¯t quite done just yet.


    The Builledracht of time long past was still something of a rowdy teenager. He was just a cocky young hotshot, a non-thinker who had taken over the clan with only his brute strength. But he was still one of the few who would one day rise to godhood. There was no world where he would fall to a few petty cantrips cooked up by a mage who measured half his level, let alone one with such scant use of her circuits.


    Gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, he pressed through the disruption of his magic and forced his ultimate to cast. Laced with divinity, the spell had no projectile. Making full use of the system¡¯s ability to declare a fixed target, it ensured that she was fated to be struck by the time of its completion.


    Log Entry 919103


    You have been afflicted with the curse of the bloodied mirror.


    You suffer 120% of all damage you inflict upon others.


    Log Entry 919104


    You have been afflicted with the curse of the courtsman¡¯s bane.


    You will always give a perfectly honest impression of the individual you are speaking to if asked.


    Log Entry 919105


    You have been afflicted with the curse of lesser bladder function.


    You are no longer able to control your urination.


    Log Entry 919106


    Error 0x5c67adf6a404: Bladder not found.


    The curse of lesser bladder function could not be applied.


    Log Entry 919107


    You have been afflicted with the curse of distant dawn.


    You will be put into stasis for a minimum of 200 hours, breaking with the dawn that follows the timer¡¯s completion. You will experience a number of minor mental abnormalities during this time. Sweet dreams!


    Claire blinked.


    She barely had any time to process the too-cheery message before the world was swallowed by darkness.

 Chapter 454 - Trials and Tribulations IV

    Chapter 454 - Trials and Tribulations IV


    Claire continued to blink even after the darkness took hold. Slowly tilting her head, she stared curiously at the all-too-familiar scene. Before her lay the usual¡ªa set of peculiar doors placed against a darkened backdrop. If she had to call one difference to mind, it once again would have been the presence of an extra entryway.


    Situated behind the other doors, the recessed, stone construct came hand-in-hand with an irrationally granular timer. It went far beyond seconds, milliseconds, or even nanoseconds. There were so many trailing digits that she couldn''t be bothered to count them. The only ones that mattered, the ones in the very front, confirmed the length of her sentence as being just shy of 213 hours.


    Nothing compulsed her towards the time-limited door. There were no shadowy hands to drag her in, no words of power to drive her steps, nor any binding contracts that damned her. And yet, she found her hand on its knob regardless. She couldn¡¯t help it. Knowing that it stemmed from Builledracht¡¯s most powerful ability, knowing that it was something she could only experience for so long, and knowing that there was nothing else for her to do in stasis, she had approached with every intention of emulating the cat responsible for the usual metaphor.


    She half expected a house of horrors, something terrifying enough to numb her mind, something that would instill the fear of god and terrify her to the point where she was unable to return to combat, but twisting open the knob revealed only another dark room.


    Like the infinite abyss, the second space was devoid of light, but that was about where the similarities came to an end. Unlike the first, the second area was more of a cell than a never-ending expanse. She had her head between her knees and her arms all scrunched up. She was packed so tightly that she felt like she was going to suffocate. Left with no other choice, she struggled, pushing against the walls of her tiny world until she heard a crack.


    For a second, she thought that it was her spine. She had been pushing very hard, after all, but the light that streamed in assured her that the world was first to give. It split apart at the seams, slowly at first, but more rapidly as she continued to thrash. Until suddenly, she found another layer of darkness.


    Oh how strange the second layer was. It was exactly as pitch black as the first, but for some peculiar reason, it didn¡¯t seem to block all the light. Some of it slipped through, raining down on her surroundings as she finally beheld them.


    Finally allowed to survey her surroundings, she found that was standing in a valley of large, rounded rocks. Their colours led her to believe them to be gemstones, but she wasn¡¯t quite sure which kind. The green one was deeper than emerald and brighter than jade. The light streaks that ran across its surface almost made her think of malachite, but it wasn¡¯t quite so fun to look at. If it really were malachite, it would certainly have ranked among the most worthless pieces thereof.


    The red and black rocks were equally as ugly. The former lacked the beautiful gleam of ruby, while the latter was without the glimmering radiance expected of obsidian. It was more like coal, only its surface was more bumpy and porous.


    Her confusion lasted until the ceiling shifted. The second layer of darkness suddenly peeled itself away to reveal the true sky beyond it.


    That was when everything suddenly clicked.


    Rolling her eyes, Claire desynchronized herself from her host and stepped out into the open. She didn¡¯t bother turning around. She had no interest to waste on the scene of Builledracht¡¯s birth.


    The world seemed to recognize this as well. It distorted again, becoming a series of large fuzzy blocks before coming back into focus with all the props and characters rearranged.


    She figured at a glance that the second scene would be equally disinteresting. Builledracht sat in a group of dragonlings, ranging anywhere between two and ten meters tall. An older, bearded fellow was in the middle of giving the whole cohort a lecture, one hand on a cane, and the other on his beard. Claire immediately looked for something, anything else to steal her attention, but she returned it to the man as she noticed the magic circle floating in front of his jaw. Builledract was not quite as studious. He was chatting away while the instructor said his part, not listening in the slightest. His own thoughts shuttered the seemingly important lesson. So again, Claire departed his body; her own two ears were far superior to the dysfunctional holes drilled into the side of the dragon¡¯s skull.


    ¡°The second layer represents a bit field corresponding to 256 distinct properties that it is possible for your breath to take,¡± said the lecturer, as he pointed a finger at one of the outermost circles. ¡°These are strict on and off flags which will be enabled if any more than 5 points of mana are run through them. You will have to precisely control the flow of your magic in order to prevent any leakage. Now, it¡¯s important to keep in mind that not all of these properties are compatible.¡±


    He tweaked a few of the numbers before spitting a burst of flame that ended just a few meters out from his face.


    ¡°This is the result you will see with output that cannot be processed. Your breath will still inflict all of the usual damage, but it will be without additional functionality.¡±


    Claire nodded along as she considered her mist. It was basically what he was describing.


    ¡°Now, the rules surrounding compatibility are somewhat complex, so you may want to take notes.¡± The old dragon scanned the less-than-attentive crowd before breathing a sigh and continuing. ¡°Between 70% and 85% compatibility, where net compatibility is taken as a percentage of the number of edges in a graph of all possible relations, most of your breath will carry the necessary properties. Above 85% compatibility, you will find your entire breath converted, though the properties themselves will strengthen with a larger value. Fortunately, the gods have made it fairly easy to determine compatibility. Properties with even designations are compatible with other evenly designated properties, while odd properties prefer other odd properties. Multipliers and divisors are also considered to be compatible, meaning that thirteen is compatible with twenty six, and the first property is compatible with all others. It¡¯s important to note that the 256th property cannot be disabled.¡± He looked around again and shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to experiment with the properties in your own time. Now, onto the next topic, the third layer is¡­¡±


    Claire was eager to keep listening. She tried to put the world back into place as it faded away again, but it was to no avail. She was probably going to have to ask Builledracht in person¡ªa thought accompanied by a groan. The silly moose pinched the bridge of her nose right as the world came back into view. She almost couldn¡¯t believe it took her so long to consider the divine resource considering that she had only picked up her draconic traits as a result of his intervention. He wanted her to become one of his kind, and he had never come off as underhanded or otherwise malicious. A quick chat would save her hours of longform experimentation, but at the same time, that was exactly the reason she didn¡¯t want to visit.


    Fiddling with the formula seemed more like a pastime than a chore, especially now that she had a solid place to start. Though admittedly, it didn¡¯t seem like the wisest decision, with everything coming up as it were.


    The world faded back into existence as she continued to debate her options. The third scene was that of a city. Builledracht was riding through the streets, waving out of his carriage as people around him threw flowers and cheered. Claire waited for a moment to see if anything interesting would happen, but nothing did. She was simply stuck in a parade, watching as the draconic hero¡¯s name was praised for a feat she cared little about.


    Sighing, Claire detached from his body, grabbed the key buried in her chest, and vacated the boring illusion. A simple twist was all it took to return to the usual darkness.


    Her eyes opened wide when she noted the timer hovering above the door. Two full days had passed already, even though it¡¯d felt like maybe five minutes. There was clearly some sort of distortion at play, something that bent and circumvented all of the usual rules, but Claire couldn¡¯t be bothered to figure it out.


    Whatever the case, she was fed up with his nonsense.


    She knew she would probably be stuck in stasis if she woke herself up, so she passed through the door that allowed her spirit to part from her body.


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    Returning to reality confirmed that she was not the only one frozen in time. Builledracht was affected by the same condition. He sat cross-legged in the rainy crater, outlined in a skintight aura made of glimmering, golden clocks.


    The rain refused to touch his body, but it never once overlapped with his flesh. It simply stagnated when it touched him before suddenly teleporting through him. While stasis certainly barred standard methods of death delivery, individuals within it were far from protected. It did nothing to stop a more persistent killer from arranging a series of attacks whilst waiting for the person to awaken. Claire wasn¡¯t quite so patient. There were still 156 hours left on the clock, and she wasn¡¯t about to hunker down for the better part of a week just to set up an ambush.


    Thankfully, her spirit form was capable of ignoring any of the usual constraints. She wandered straight out of her body, even though it was subject to the same magic, and teleported in front of her target.


    She felt a strange hesitation as she raised her fist. There was something inside of her that seemed to want to resist, something that made it difficult to twist her hips and really drill the blow through his body¡ªnot that it mattered either way. Her hand froze on contact before teleporting behind him; her astral form was bound by all of the same rules forced upon the rain.


    The phenomenon almost seemed familiar, so familiar in fact that it happened to fill her head with ideas. For her next attack, she waited for the rift to open before applying her own vectors. It seemed like a promising ploy, but alas, the automatic defense mechanism ignored her magical orders.


    Claire frowned. Trying with her own body, she found that she could touch herself however she pleased, despite being subject to the same effects. Entering her body, however, proved to be more difficult. Whereas normally, she would have regained control as soon as she donned her flesh, she found that it remained entirely unresponsive.


    She pondered for a little before pulling the key from her chest again, inserting it into her body and giving it a twist. The key fought back; the more she torqued it, the harder it was to turn. But eventually, it gave, allowing her to complete the cycle and return to her flesh. She reasoned that she could do much the same thing to Builledracht. She could easily set up a series of traps and end him with a twist of the key. But with her body back online, there was something else she wanted to try.


    She walked towards the giant black dragon. Her steps were slow, quiet, completely drowned out by the rain as it washed through the world around her. She hesitated when she first looked at Boris, but soon drew a third vial from his throat after calling him into her hands. She only had two left, but two was enough to keep in reserve. There were still three months before she had to confront her father, and she was unlikely to win in the first place if she had to drink too many.


    Nodding, and certainly not making a reckless and uninformed decision, she raised the stabilizer to her lips, drained its contents, and channeled her divinity through her body again.


    She lightly flapped her wings as she finally reached the giant black dragon and rose so they were eye to eye.


    And then, after beating back the strange hesitation again, she slugged him.


    Her taloned fist passed through his barrier, crashed into his face, and dug straight into his eye. She felt the pain as well. Her head rang in protest while her eye screamed up a storm, but she grinned regardless.


    It was pretty much as she expected.


    There was some resistance, something to tell her that she was breaking one of the fundamental rules imposed by the system, but the results spoke for themselves.


    Her divinity won out over his magic.


    All she needed was a concentrated dose.


    It wasn¡¯t like the spell itself had been broken. Builledracht was still stuck in time. His face was the only part of him that had moved, and though she had crushed his eye, the blood therein was static, remaining perfectly stagnant, exactly as it had been since her fist returned.


    Satisfied with the result, Claire pumped Boris full of divinity, turned him into a lance, and drove him through the dragon¡¯s face. His orders were simple. He was to suck the overgrown lizard dry, to drain every drop of health he had. The only recoil that Claire suffered was from the initial stabbing. The rest only healed her; the damage didn¡¯t come from her directly.


    A shiver rippled through Claire¡¯s body. Accompanied by precisely the sort of itch that followed a run in the middle of winter, the chill traveled along her tail, through her guts, and out of her extended lizard as time was distorted again.


    The precise behaviour was a little different than it was when she sped up her perception. Rather than slowing as usual, the world found itself half-stopped. The rain, which had at some point become large flakes of snow, came to a perfect standstill. The only pieces that moved were the ones she touched¡ªthey broke free of the spell and fluttered to the ground, joining their countless brethren beneath her feet.


    Blinking again, she found that Builledracht¡¯s copy was gone. She was standing on the other side of the gate that had marked the divine trial. The icy mountain was missing as well, replaced by a series of gentle slopes that led up to a sparkling winter castle beneath a clear, moonlit sky. And yet, so too did the frosted peak remain. The castle and its hills were gone when she blinked, returned again to their prior state.


    The world flip-flopped between the two scenes every time she batted her lashes. She tried it over twenty times before spinning around with her hand clenched into a fist. She couldn¡¯t see the target approaching her from behind, but her strike was perfectly aimed.


    Were she just a thousand times faster, she likely would have fulfilled Primrose¡¯s request. Alas, her fist was caught by the goddess who had appeared alongside the first change in perception.


    To describe her as a goddess required some degree of generosity, for she embodied none of the beauty typically expected of the label. Not even in her present, near-naked state would she have inspired wicked thoughts in any but the most degenerate. She had two articles of clothing. One was presumably a pair of panties. Made of cold steel, the giant metal diaper was coated from head to toe in exposed nuts and bolts. Only the topmost bits were covered by the goddess¡¯ checkered shirt. The red and black plaid outfit was left to hang off her shoulders unbuttoned, but little of her skin was exposed. Her overflowing chest hair shielded all but the bottom of her exaggerated abdominals. Like her bulging biceps and her mountainous thighs, they were built so bulky that she spanned the space of three people.


    And yet, her face was withered, haggard and warted as a witch on her sickbed. If she didn¡¯t know any better, she might have assumed that the parts belonged to two different people, but Claire was well acquainted with the goddess¡¯ image.


    Like Vella, Aurora was widely worshipped across the nation. Her reliefs were as widespread as knowledge of her curse. Even the elves, who otherwise refused to believe in the existence of gods, told cautionary tales of the wicked witch of the north. For though blue-skinned, she was one of their kind.


    As with all standard depictions, they heavily featured her peculiar hair, defining it as chief among the goddess¡¯ traits.


    Three quarters of her head was shaved. It was only from the leftmost part of her skull that her hair still grew¡ªa single patch about the size of a fist. And yet, the thick blonde strands were so long that they nearly touched her feet. In fact, they likely would have done just that had she not thrown them over her head like a toupee and draped them over the opposite shoulder. Folded into a sideways ponytail, the trio of large clumpy dreadlocks were heavy enough to be used as a weapon.


    ¡°Good evening,¡± said Claire. She pulled back her extended hand, never once acknowledging it as she turned her armour into an over-the-top party dress and greeted the goddess with a curtsy.


    ¡°Good evening and welcome,¡± said Aurora. Her voice was every bit as clear, deep, and husky as it was over the broadcast. But at the same time, it was melodic and soothing, perhaps even gentle. ¡°I have been expecting you, Claire Augustus.¡± She wasn¡¯t the slightest bit fazed by the attempted face-punch. Either the bluff had worked or she was simply magnanimous. Either way, she greeted the mortal with a smile.


    ¡°So I¡¯ve gathered,¡± said Claire. ¡°Will the kill still register?¡±


    The goddess laughed. ¡°Yes, of course,¡± she said. ¡°But there are some things we must first discuss.¡± The world warped as the goddess took a step. An incredibly complicated series of vectors suddenly went off at once and sucked them into the distant, almost-imaginary castle.


    It wasn¡¯t teleportation. It was more like the goddess had folded the world around them, forcing it to facilitate their movement. Like the wind, they were whisked through the passages and up the stairs before coming to a stop in a grand hall.


    The centre of the room sported a large, frozen disk. Positioned like something of a bathtub, but made entirely of ice. Mist poured endlessly from within it, filling the space with magic and moisture alike.


    ¡°This is the mirror of memoirs and memories,¡± she said. ¡°It is one of the few tools capable of perusing the system¡¯s records and presenting them before mortal eyes. It is a true divine instrument, created by Flitzegarde herself and placed within my domain for safekeeping. It is tradition to provide a mortal who has overcome my trial with precisely one scene from any perspective. But I will not do that for you.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± asked Claire, eyes narrowed.


    ¡°Because by sheer virtue of your presence here, in this place, at this time, at that level, I have lost a bet,¡± she said, quietly. ¡°So as promised to the goddess who reigns over the cycle, I will tell you everything of relevance to your genesis.¡±


    ¡°My¡­ genesis?¡±


    ¡°Mortal or not, we are the products of those who have come before us. So I will tell you of those who came before you,¡± she said. ¡°I will tell you of the fool who defied the heavens, whilst seeking its all-encompassing might. I will tell you of the soldier who struggled against the web of fate, only to be wound in its strands. And I will tell you of the paladin who cast aside his name, precisely so victory could fall within his grasp. I will tell you of everything they were, everything they are, and everything dressed within their starcrossed dreams.¡± The goddess stepped atop the mirror and beckoned for Claire to do the same. ¡°Now, come. I will open your eyes.¡±

 Chapter 455 - Trials and Tribulations V

    Chapter 455 - Trials and Tribulations V


    Chloe watched her mistress with a strained smile as they crossed the mountains on dogback. It was early in the morning. The frenzy and the subsequent moment of repose had both come to an end, and the monster density was back up to its daily peak. But at Arciel¡¯s behest, the pooch was no longer making detours or otherwise attempting to avoid any of the monsters along the path. The birds and beasts in question were simply obliterated, deleted in an instant by the magic that poured from the tip of the vampire squid¡¯s wand.


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re not wasting too much mana?¡± asked Chloe.


    The queen, who was dressed in a fresh set of clothes, had been attacking nonstop for the better part of an hour. It wasn¡¯t like she was just throwing out her costless cantrips. The individual spells left clear marks in the mountains. Sometimes, she would punch holes in the terrain, leading to devastating avalanches and landslides. Others, she would obliterate the summits outright, leaving nothing in their wake but a clear view of the sky. The most terrifying part of all was that the power was entirely her own. No longer was her firepower locked behind the presence of the moon.


    ¡°There is little reason to be concerned,¡± said Ciel. ¡°I require only a moment to restore any mana spent.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure? I know you¡¯ve ascended, but it still seems like you might be going a little overboard.¡±


    ¡°I have yet to leverage any of the functionality I unlocked in the wake of my ascension.¡± The queen puffed up her mathematically correct chest and twisted her lips into a devilishly proud smile. ¡°Certainly, there has been a reduction in the cost of my attacks, but it has yet to prove consequential given the little I have demonstrated.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember any of your attacks being quite this potent.¡±


    ¡°The increase in firepower followed shortly after our separation.¡± Arciel raised her fan to her lips and hid another smug grin. ¡°I discovered, during my fourth consecutive day of desperately casting without rest, that I needed only a sacrifice of blood to empower my attacks. From then I simply mingled it with my mana to increase my output tenfold,¡± she explained. ¡°I later discovered a similar multiplicative increase upon linking my circuits to my veins directly.¡±


    ¡°You did what!? How did you even manage that!?¡±


    ¡°I was quite fortunate. Were it anything but a full moon that night, I doubt I would have survived the procedure. I have learned now that perhaps it is not wise to perform surgery on oneself, regardless of whether the task is assigned to an autonomous summon.¡±


    Chloe felt like she was going to faint. She had certainly been able to tell that her mistress¡¯ blood had seemed a little more magically attuned than usual, but she was too panicked to think much of it at the time. The usual response to such an insane operation was instant death. Sure, blood was packed with magic and capable of functioning as an excellent catalyst for all sorts of spellwork, but magic circuits were specialized organs. One could not simply fill them with a completely different substance and expect them to retain their function. That was one of the very first lessons that Chloe had learned from Allegra, after becoming a mage.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that really dangerous? Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°It was hardly a risk compared to any of the insanity that Claire has attempted for power.¡±


    Chloe smiled awkwardly. She wasn¡¯t about to say it out loud when her mistress was so enthusiastic, but Claire clearly wasn¡¯t the best example.


    ¡°Did you just say you slung spells for four straight days?¡±


    ¡°I did,¡± said Arciel. ¡°I must admit, while he is certainly rather suspicious, Panda serves well as a guide. He provided precisely what I hoped to find when I requested a dungeon capable of testing my mettle.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m not that shady,¡± said Panda. The raccoon appeared atop their mount as soon as his name was called, arms crossed and his lips a playful grin.


    ¡°You¡¯re about the shadiest character I know,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°Oh, come on! I¡¯m not even straddling the line anymore. I¡¯m straight up helping you idiots even though it¡¯s eating into my profits.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps so, but your purpose remains indiscernible.¡± The squid blasted a bolt of darkness at a stray griffon and blew its body to bits. ¡°If you wished to lure us into a trap, you would have long done so, and with all of the abilities you have demonstrated, I see no reason for you to require us for your plans. You could very well orchestrate the fall of any nation should you simply find yourself in favour.¡±


    ¡°Heh. Can¡¯t say you¡¯ve read me too wrong, but flattery ain¡¯t getting you nowhere,¡± said the raccoon. ¡°Not like you¡¯re that different anymore. How¡¯s it feel to be an aspect?¡±


    ¡°Excellent,¡± said Ciel, ¡°but I do find it unfortunate that I have yet to experience an opportunity to evaluate the extent of my growth.¡±


    ¡°Thought you¡¯d say that,¡± said the ring-tailed pest. ¡°Turns out, I¡¯ve got something that happens to be right on the money.¡±


    He pointed a finger towards the south. ¡°Head about two hundred kilometers that way. Or just follow the ley lines, whichever works better.¡±


    ¡°I shall handle the transportation,¡± said Arciel. ¡°We shall leverage Claire¡¯s method of locomotion.¡±


    Chloe suddenly felt a headache come on. Only then, following the reminder, did she recall that her mistress was probably in the least danger of them all¡ªArciel could have teleported out of the Langgbjerns and out to safety whenever she wished. Panda¡¯s violent cackling only worsened the pain. He wasn¡¯t even trying to hide his laughter as he rolled around on the dog-carpet.


    She was so embarrassed that she buried her face in her hands and screamed, prompting a curious look from her mistress.


    ¡°Is something the matter?¡±


    ¡°Nah, nothing. She¡¯s just an idiot is all. I¡¯m pretty sure her brain shuts down altogether the moment she gets heated,¡± said Panda, as he wiped away his tears. ¡°You better watch out, girlie, or you¡¯re gonna get your dumb ass scammed.¡±


    ¡°Can we just get moving, please?¡± asked the maid, quietly.


    ¡°I suppose it would be in our best interest,¡± said Arciel. She raised her wand, but Panda stepped in front of her before she could cast the spell, his hands inside of the fur of his thighs, as he might have, had he a pair of pockets.


    ¡°Wait, wait, don¡¯t do that,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯re gonna do the same thing they did last time if you do, and this time, they¡¯ll actually try to kill you for real.¡±


    Chloe gulped.


    ¡°I trust that you shall have our backs then,¡± said Arciel.


    ¡°I wish,¡± said Panda. ¡°But they¡¯ve got me by the pursestrings. There¡¯s nothing I can do, honest.¡±


    ¡°Would it be too much for you to explain further?¡±


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The raccoon sighed. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna believe me, but they¡¯ve got a literal god watching for your sorta teleportation. Nothing I can do against that.¡±


    ¡°Would our method of locomotion truly make so much of a difference if they¡¯ve a god willing to intervene in mortal affairs? Would the same fate not befall us regardless?¡±


    ¡°I mean, they¡¯re gonna be trying to ambush you either way, sure, but they¡¯ve got different plans for different cases. Best thing we can do is get them to play their worst hand.¡±


    ¡°So what¡¯s this ¡®worst hand,¡¯ exactly?¡± asked Chloe.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be more or less an ambush,¡± said Panda. ¡°There¡¯s a wide open field where we¡¯re headed, and they¡¯re lying in wait. You¡¯ll know it when you see it.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be better if we avoided the field then?¡±


    ¡°Well, it depends. Do you want to finish Griselda¡¯s quest or not?¡±


    Arciel snapped her fan shut and gave the raccoon a glare. ¡°You intend to frame yourself as one of Griselda¡¯s heralds?¡±


    ¡°No, no, nothing of the sort.¡± Panda laughed. ¡°There¡¯s only one real reason anyone that knows anything comes up into these mountains. I know it, your goddess knows it, hell, even your enemies know it. That¡¯s why they¡¯re lying in wait. If you want to cash in, then the only choice you¡¯ve got is to put it all on the table.¡±


    ¡°How are we supposed to deal with the ambush?¡±


    ¡°Beats me.¡±


    ¡°I presume you are mentioning this because you believe in our success?¡± All the question got was a light shrug, but Arciel continued regardless. ¡°We shall endeavour to live up to your expectations.¡±


    Grabbing hold of her hat, Arciel gave her wand a flick and lifted the magical dog carpet above the trees. A second such movement sent it spiralling through the mountains, moving at five times its prior speed.


    It was Claire¡¯s magic.


    Borrowed without a hint of distortion.


    Despite the lack of a bloody throne.


    ___


    Panda crossed his arms and lazily tapped a foot as he watched over the group with a frown. They had attempted the orniferin challenge so many times that he had long lost track of the number. It was probably at least a few hundred. As far as real time went, it had been two weeks¡ªtwenty full days since their first attempt, and they¡¯d been wiped once every few minutes ever since. Frankly, he was surprised that they were still willing to try, given the lack of progress.


    At most, they had learned to better stall for time. They¡¯d managed to take off a few of the orniferin¡¯s legs throughout the extended encounter, but while Panda had almost gotten excited and thought them on the cusp of victory, they never managed to press the advantage derived from their lucky strikes.


    It wasn¡¯t like they were necessarily weak or otherwise incapable. At the very least, they were more proficient than most, and not just on account of their levels. Even considering those in the same range, he would have confidently labeled them as standing among the elite.


    But they still weren¡¯t up to par.


    It was Allegra¡¯s tutelage that had broken them free from mediocrity, and that was precisely the problem. They were far from the only students that the rabbit had ever instructed, nor were they the brightest among them.


    Over the years, Allegra had raised thousands of bonafide elites, few of whom were in the running for the coveted positions. It wasn¡¯t like they had all died off or simply gone their separate ways as soon as Cadria ran out of major conflicts. Sure, some of them had given up on warfare and traded their swords for hoes, but most remained in fields that leveraged their past proficiency. They were guards, mercenaries, and adventurers. Artificers, alchemists, and scholars. Whatever their precise professions, their goals were all the same. Like their master, they worked tirelessly in pursuit of bettering the nation.


    Many had come out of retirement to answer the call, to volunteer themselves as one of the seven. And many had found themselves weeded.


    Because elites meant nothing before true champions.


    That was why he had pitted the Vel¡¯khanese against the orniferin crown.


    He had hoped for at least one of the three to awaken to something when backed into a corner, but they had yet to break from the cycle of death. Panda¡ªConstantius¡ªwould have loved to keep spinning the wheel. Gambling was one of life¡¯s greatest pleasures, and he had always been one to indulge. Alas, it was time to accept that the dice had landed on a pair of snake eyes.


    He was disappointed, sure, but he wasn¡¯t particularly hung up over it. The real risk of failure was precisely the thrill of throwing the die, and the mishap at hand would only serve to heighten the excitement of a future payoff.


    In the first place, strengthening the northern brigade was more of a side project, an optional objective that he¡¯d chased for his own entertainment. His main goal was to deliver his niece to the goddess, and in that, he had already prevailed.


    Well, sort of.


    He needed her to pass the trial for everything to click into place. In any ordinary circumstance, he would have been right to stress and worry, to roll the dice again and pray for luck to take his side. Aurora configured her tests based on the individual¡¯s strength, such that an equally difficult challenge was delivered to each of its contenders. But Claire was Virillius¡¯ daughter.


    If he had to guess, she was probably wrapping up already, hence the casino¡¯s closing.


    Sighing, Constantius turned his eyes back to the trio and awaited their impending doom. It didn¡¯t take long, only about twenty minutes before all three met their ends. Quickly reviving them, by exchanging their lives for those of a few unfortunate fruit flies, the raccoon kicked the party awake whilst crossing his arms and leaning against a tree.


    ¡°Ready,¡± said Lana, as she grabbed a fallen branch. ¡°This time, I¡¯ll charge in.¡±


    ¡°Flanking didn¡¯t work last time you did that. I¡¯ll go in with you,¡± said Jules. ¡°Krail, you provide air support.¡±


    ¡°Consider it done.¡±


    All three immediately got to their feet and turned towards the rushing orniferin, but returning to his cervitaurian form, Constantius grabbed them by their collars and stopped them in their tracks.


    ¡°Hold your horses,¡± he said.


    ¡°Can¡¯t,¡± said Lana. ¡°It¡¯s coming.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Time¡¯s up,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re gonna miss the finale if you don¡¯t move on.¡±


    ¡°The finale? The fuck¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± asked Jules.


    ¡°Well, I would imagine it¡¯s meant to indicate some sort of epic conclus¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Krail. No one asked your dumb ass.¡±


    ¡°I felt like the question was fairly open-ended,¡± grumbled the elf.


    ¡°Well, if it makes you feel any better, you were mostly right,¡± said the raccoon. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t want to miss out on front-row seats now, would you?¡±


    ¡°I was under the impression that we were meant to be active participants,¡± said Krail.


    ¡°Extras,¡± said Lana, with a nod.


    ¡°All that really means is that your seats are even better than front-row,¡± said Constantius. ¡°Now hurry up. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°We can try,¡± said Lana. ¡°But it¡¯s still chasing us. The orniferin.¡±


    ¡°God, you will not shut up about that thing, will you?¡± Constantius shook his head and sighed.


    ¡°It¡¯s close.¡±


    The comment stemmed from neither a sixth sense nor a mysterious power. Rather, it was a simple observation made by all four present. The orniferin king, who still seemed full of energy in spite of the extended engagement, was charging right at them.


    ¡°What are you so worked up for? It¡¯s just a bug.¡±


    Setting the others down, Constantius stepped forward with one arm casually extended. The limb exploded the moment it made contact with the charging beast. His shoulder gave out, ground to dust, and his legs were broken after he failed to stop the raging monster in its tracks. The crab-centipede explicitly broke past him and closed in on the trio that had bugged it for the past two weeks. Or at least, that was what was supposed to happen.


    There was a distortion, a strange blurring of the world wherein everything started bleeding sideways. Colours and shapes were warped and twisted until they blended together.


    It only lasted for a moment. But everything was changed by the time it was undone.


    The crabipede was stuck in front of Constantius¡¯ still intact arm, struggling as it pushed and flailed. It tried to break free, but it was unable. The magic that flowed from the cervitaur soon infected its mind and brought it under control.


    ¡°See? He¡¯s friendly,¡± said the moose, as he gave his new pet a pat.


    ¡°That¡¯s bullshit,¡± muttered Jules. ¡°You literally took him down in half of a fucking second.¡±


    ¡°If you think this is bullshit, you should see my brother,¡± said the moose, with a chuckle. ¡°Anyway, let¡¯s go. Some major shit¡¯s about to hit the fan, and I wouldn¡¯t miss this for the world.¡±

 Chapter 456 - Trials and Tribulations VI

    Chapter 456 - Trials and Tribulations VI


    Claire slowly opened her eyes as the mirror¡¯s magic ran its course. Her mind was practically overrun with a fountain of information. In reality, it was but a brief moment of activation, but she felt like she spent days, if not weeks taking all of it in. It took channeling her divinity through her brain to process all of the madness. And even then, she struggled to keep up.


    Still, she found herself smiling.


    Panda was telling the truth.


    Her mother was still alive.


    And she was in the winter castle.


    ¡°I will give you a moment to prepare.¡± Aurora stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Claire to reflect on her lack of cleanliness. Though her runecloak had cleaned itself when she transformed it, the rest of her body was still caked in blood. It stained her hair and covered her face, leaving her with a potent stench that proved anything but presentable.


    At first, she was left to wonder how exactly she was meant to clean her body, but the room transformed soon after the goddess¡¯ departure. The relic that was the centerpiece was replaced with a pool of steaming hot water, while an icy mirror emerged opposite a massive wardrobe. The dresses within it were ostensibly Sthenian, but a single glance sufficed to inform that no mortals were involved in their making. They were weaved from the thinnest of strands, individual strings held together almost entirely by the copious divinity vested into the material. They were divine raiments, beautiful pieces of art that served as much as armour as they did as decoration.


    Claire reached for one, only for it to shy away and smack her hand with a coat hanger.


    ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing, you filthy cretin!?¡± it cried. It didn¡¯t have a mouth, nor any physical source from which its voice could stem. The words echoed directly into the back of her mind. ¡°Why are you even reaching for me in the first place? I¡¯d clearly look much better on someone flatter and taller.¡± Though it didn¡¯t have eyes, Claire could feel its gaze, sensing through its eyes both its appraisal and discontent. The claim itself didn¡¯t make much sense for something made in a Sthenian style. Her chest was already much smaller than the average lamia¡¯s.


    Still, she took its words to heart. Perhaps the bath was a better first destination.


    The half-moose transformed her runecloak into a ring as she stepped into the tub. But like the dress, the water recoiled, practically scowling as it shrank away.


    ¡°Stay away from me!!¡± it shrieked.


    It retreated further with every step she took before scrunching itself up in the far corner like a terrified kitten. Claire was amused, especially when it tried darting between her legs, but she had places to be and things to do, so she seized it with her vectors and forced it to cover her body.


    ¡°You fiend! You demon! You filthy, freak-eared, fox-molesting whore of a princess! How could you!?¡± it cried. A number of unrepeatable slurs followed soon after, but interestingly, its insults appeared to function as a method of expunging its filth. The water cleared with every word it screamed, cleaning her to sparkling perfection without so much as a drop of soap.


    Still, she raised her ears, filled them with divinity, and quickly inspected her body after stepping out from the griping bath. Only when she was certain of her cleanliness did she invert her freezing aura and dry herself with its gentle heat.


    Returning to the wardrobe, however, she found the raiments just as reluctant. They squealed as they shied away from her fingers, their behaviour reminiscent of a gaggle of teenage girls.


    ¡°What is it now?¡± asked the lyrkress.


    ¡°You don''t fit me!¡± squeaked one. ¡°I look better on girls with wider shoulders!¡±


    ¡°And I only fit girls with average proportions,¡± said a second.


    ¡°I''m for girls with gigantic, disproportionate chests,¡± added a third.


    ¡°I like men,¡± quipped a fourth. ¡°Big, hairy men with bulging veins and at least four testicles per leg.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes before grabbing the garments with a fistful of vectors and lifting them into the air. Each was perfectly spread so she could examine their sizes and shapes without their complaining or interference. Annoyingly, their claims held some merit. Every dress was too large, too small, or too oddly proportioned. Given that there were only ten of them, it wasn¡¯t too surprising that none were in her size, but the absurd body types they were built for had her raising a brow. It had to be a ruse.


    ¡°W-wait, what are you doing?¡± The prettiest among them screamed as Claire approached. She came in two parts. The dress herself was a deep and majestic purple. Styled like an evening gown, she sported a lengthy hem that tailed beyond her wearer. Faint bits of silver were embedded into the fabric, glowing like a sea of stars. To complete the look, there was a deep blue corset, worn on the outside to emphasize the shape of her partner¡¯s assets.


    The raiment was wide enough to fit three of her but she was meant for someone much shorter and stockier. She tried her best to struggle, to shy away from Claire¡¯s touch, but she was no match for the forces holding her in place.


    She changed as soon as they made contact, shrinking and growing until she came to match the proportion demanded by the snakemoose¡¯s body. The morph was accompanied by all sorts of screaming and sobbing, but ignoring the dress¡¯ complaints, Claire slipped her on after adjusting her runecloak to include a pair of undergarments.


    Nodding contently, Claire tied up her hair whilst staring into the mirror. Perhaps someone else might have lamented a lack of makeup, but the snoose didn¡¯t mind. She didn''t need makeup. Her face was perfect as it was.


    That same logic had her debating the direction to take her ears. They were just as immaculate, her pride and joy in spite of all the trouble they¡¯d caused her. Still, after a brief contemplation, she decided to adorn them, as was the Cadrian tradition.


    The goddess was still standing in the hall by the time Claire finally opened the door. Smiling gently, Aurora examined her outfit, nodded approvingly, and transported them across the castle grounds. Before long, they arrived in front of a large door nested in one of the castle¡¯s quieter wings.


    Claire was about to raise her hand to knock when she sensed a distant gaze. Spinning around, she found a hooded figure standing in the mountains. It was difficult to make him out in detail, even with her eyes¡¯ telescopic properties. But she could tell that his skin was green and that he was looking intently in her direction.


    ¡°My barrier prevents him from entering my domain,¡± said Aurora. ¡°He can stare all he wishes. Nothing will come of his presence.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± said Claire.


    Smiling, Aurora turned around and walked away. Though she said nothing, the message was loud and clear.


    Claire watched the goddess¡¯ back. She waited for her to vanish down the hall before slowly raising her hand to the door. Somehow, she almost felt like she lacked the courage to knock, but she soon followed through regardless.


    ¡°Would it have killed you to be a little more gentle?¡± The door grumbled as it slowly opened itself, revealing a room with three lamia waiting inside.


    She only recognized two of the three faces, but the last looked upon her with the same affection that adorned the others. The unknown lamia had bronze skin, bright, leaf-green scales, and a head of wild, curly hair. She squealed as Claire entered, sparkles glimmering through her eyes all the while.


    The second snake-lady was a little bit taller. She had rose-pink scales, and wore a pair of square glasses that gave her an impression reminiscent of an overly strict, ever-single secretary¡ªan impression only furthered by the bun that her hair was tied in. Like the lady with green scales, she was dressed as a maid, and Claire recognized her as being just that. Camellia was her mother¡¯s servant and friend, and she had lived in the manor with them until her mother¡¯s supposed passing. Apparently, she¡¯d gone on a journey thereafter without leaving the slightest hint as to her destination.


    And then there was her mother.


    Violet was exactly as she remembered her. For a lamia, she was particularly small. Her body measured six meters from head to tail, and her standing height was only about a quarter of her length. She had glimmering purple scales, an eternal smirk on her lips, and the sort of prodigious chest that would make even Arciel feel inadequate. Like both other snakes, her hair and eyes were tinted similarly to her scales. Her ears were elf-like, only much prettier¡ªit was precisely from them that Claire¡¯s had taken their perfect shape. Her hair was cut to about shoulder length and holstered in a fancy updo¡ªthe very same one she had always sported to everything that wasn¡¯t a formal event.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    To say that mother and daughter shared a face was an understatement. Claire was Violet¡¯s spitting image, with their colours and expressions as the only things to set them apart.


    Claire wasn¡¯t really sure what to do or say. She had to fight to keep her composure. Her mother was right there. Within arm¡¯s reach for the first time in almost ten years.


    Recognizing her hesitation, Violet spread her arms and smiled.


    Claire knew it wasn¡¯t appropriate. She was due to perform a formal greeting to demonstrate the extent of her growth. But she couldn¡¯t stop herself from throwing herself into her mother¡¯s embrace.


    It was every bit as soft and gentle as she remembered, but it wasn''t quite the same. Claire had grown much taller¡ªher face no longer went straight into the older lamia¡¯s bosom, resting instead on one of her shoulders.


    ¡°Mother,¡± she said. ¡°I¡­ I never thought I''d see you again.¡±


    ¡°I''m sorry.¡± Violet squeezed her tight. ¡°I had to.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± said Claire. She''d seen it all clearly in the mirror. ¡°I''m just glad you''re still alive.¡±


    ¡°Of course I''m still alive,¡± said the snake indignantly. She released her daughter and crossed her arms in front of her chest. ¡°Did you really think I''d let myself die from the common cold!?¡±


    ¡°It was one of Allegra¡¯s curses,¡± said Claire, deadpan.


    ¡°That''s basically the same thing,¡± said Violet.


    ¡°Somehow, I doubt that.¡±


    ¡°Don''t sweat the details,¡± said Violet. ¡°Mommy didn''t raise you to be so fussy.¡±


    ¡°You didn''t raise me much at all.¡±


    ¡°Wow! I stepped out for eight short years, and you''re already this rebellious? They grow up so fast¡­¡±


    Claire sighed when her mother pretended to sniffle. Evidently, she was every bit the same person she¡¯d been when they parted. Her behaviour made it difficult to see her as a princess or a duchess, let alone the queen that she¡¯d unknowingly become.


    They stayed like that for a little, but Claire soon turned away from her mother and directed a curtsy at each of her maids. ¡°Good evening, Camellia. And you too, madame. I do not believe we have met before. Would you mind informing me of your name?¡±


    The green-scaled guard looked at both of the others before pointing at herself, continuing only after Claire returned a nod.


    ¡°Wait a second Violet! Cammie! Did you never tell her about me!?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t see any reason to,¡± said Camellia.


    ¡°Sorry! It probably slipped my mind,¡± said Violet, with her tongue extended.


    ¡°Slipped your mind!? You had ten years! Ten!¡± shouted the green-scaled maid, her eyes teary. ¡°Gosh, I can¡¯t believe you two¡­¡± Huffing, she turned back towards Claire and forced a particularly awkward smile. ¡°I¡¯m Esmeralda. I¡¯m one of your mom¡¯s cousins, on her mom¡¯s side, and I¡¯m supposed to be one of her best friends,¡± she said with a sniffle. ¡°You can call me Auntie Ezzy.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll stick to Esmeralda,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Why!?¡±


    Claire briefly scrutinized the green-scaled serpent before turning back towards her mother. She opened her mouth, but found herself at a loss for words. She didn¡¯t know what to say or ask. The mirror had already answered all of her questions.


    ¡°I knew it wouldn¡¯t be too long,¡± said Violet. ¡°But I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d make it here just yet.¡± She lightly brushed her daughter¡¯s hair and corrected the braid¡¯s imperfections before running her fingers along the sides of her face. ¡°You must¡¯ve worked hard.¡±


    Claire smiled. ¡°Not that hard.¡±


    ¡°Harder than your father, at least,¡± said Violet, with a huff. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe how lazy he was when he was still young. I swear, I was one of the first things that he was actually motivated to do.¡±


    Claire scrunched up her brow. ¡°I did not need to hear that, Mother.¡±


    ¡°How else did you think you were made?¡± asked the snake, with a giggle.


    ¡°Mother, please¡­¡± Claire groaned.


    Her amusement renewed by her daughter¡¯s reaction, Violet needed a few moments to finally stifle her laughter. ¡°When did you leave home?¡±


    ¡°A little before I turned seventeen,¡± said Claire. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe the number of things I¡¯ve killed these last two years.¡±


    ¡°Virillius told me, well before you were born, that you¡¯d burn a whole city to the ground at some point. You should¡¯ve seen the look on his face when he said it,¡± said Violet, with a laugh. ¡°He¡¯s done the same thing at least a dozen times, but he looked so guilty that I almost thought he¡¯d forgotten.¡±


    Claire blinked awkwardly. ¡°Right.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on. Don¡¯t make that face. Rules are made to be broken, and at this point, war crimes practically run in the family.¡±


    Noting the content look on her mother¡¯s face, Claire refrained from further comment. ¡°Do you want to hear about all the places I¡¯ve been?¡± asked the snoose. It felt a little weird to bring up. She already felt like she¡¯d said everything she wanted in front of her mother¡¯s grave, but being in her presence made her feel like repeating it all again.


    Violet gave her daughter a brief, appraising stare before twisting her teasing grin into a much calmer smile. ¡°Gladly.¡±


    Claire nodded. And then, assuming her smallest humanoid form, she climbed into her mother¡¯s lap. She leaned into the embrace that followed and closed her eyes.


    ¡°Father changed after you disappeared. I¡¯m still not sure if it was because of the shock or if he thought it through. Maybe a little bit of both,¡± said Claire. ¡°But he changed almost overnight. He started demanding perfection, and he didn¡¯t acknowledge it, even when I delivered.¡± Taking a bit of a breath, she skipped past the next few years and started with her arrival in Llystletein. She talked about the stupid mechanical birds, the silly talking foxes, and the mountain that had forever etched itself into her mind. Then there was the scheme¡ªthe killing of the paladins and her eventual escape.


    Vel¡¯khan came soon after. It was hard to believe she¡¯d only spent about a year in the nation, and she¡¯d only known Lia for a scant few months. Even telling the story again, she felt that it was so much longer.


    ¡°Hold on,¡± said Violet. ¡°All that¡¯s very interesting, but I can¡¯t help but notice that you¡¯re slowly getting more boring as you go along.¡±


    Claire blinked. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you mean.¡±


    ¡°The Claire I raised wouldn¡¯t have simply waited around for an organised coup,¡± said Violet. ¡°I would¡¯ve expected you to lie about the date, and then break into the castle and kill everyone while no one else was looking.¡±


    ¡°Raised¡­ Right¡­¡±


    ¡°Why is that, of all parts, the one you decided to complain about?¡± grumbled Violet. ¡°I did raise you. I mothered you for ten whole years!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s barely half my life at this point.¡±


    ¡°Half is plenty,¡± said Violet.


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Claire smiled awkwardly as she climbed off of her mother and accepted the drink that Camellia had silently offered. ¡°We opened a shop a little bit after the coup. It was a quaint little place, close enough to the main street to hear all the noise, but far enough away that it wasn¡¯t swamped with unnecessary traffic.¡±


    And so she continued. She talked about Pollux, Tornatus¡¯ fall, and the present war that was the aftermath. She started telling her about all the foreign lands she¡¯d passed on her way northward, but she didn¡¯t get too much further. Sylvia, Boris, and Starrgort stepped into the hall before she could.


    ¡°Hey Claire!¡± said the fox. Having broken into a sprint upon spotting Claire, she was the only one to make it all the way. ¡°Aurora said you finished her trial, so I fig¡ªwait a second! Why the heck are there two of you!?¡±


    She looked between the lyrkress and her mother, her eyes wide and blinking.


    ¡°I¡¯m Violet, her mother,¡± said Violet. ¡°You must be Sylvia.¡±


    ¡°Yup! I¡¯m her best friend!¡±


    ¡°Hmmmm¡­¡± Violet flickered her tongue as she slithered a circle around the orange furball. ¡°You certainly smell the part,¡± she said, before turning back to her daughter. ¡°You said she was huggable?¡±


    ¡°Very,¡± said Claire.


    ¡°Let me see.¡± Violet picked Sylvia up and squished her into her chest. ¡°You''re right. She''s squishy in all the right ways. And fluffy too,¡± she said.


    ¡°Mhm! I¡¯m the fluffiest fox in all of Llystletein, and probably everywhere else too.¡±


    ¡°You make a pretty convincing argument,¡± said Violet, as she played with the fox¡¯s fur. She scratched the bottom of the fox¡¯s ears and lightly tickled the spot under her chin before turning back to her daughter. ¡°Have you made any other friends? I was always a little worried that you might end up without too many.¡±


    Claire rolled her eyes. ¡°The others will be gathering shortly.¡±


    She walked towards the window and looked down at the snowy hills that lay beyond the castle¡¯s walls. Surely enough, a few of the others had gathered at the entrance, chatting about their time apart whilst waiting for the others to finish the goddess¡¯ trial.


    ¡°They look like an interesting bunch,¡± said Violet. Setting Sylvia down, she hopped onto the windowsill and gestured for Claire to join her. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to introduce me.¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°We can start with these two.¡± She pointed at Boris and Starrgort, who were standing in the doorway, only to find her mother turned pale.


    ¡°Is the spider one of Vella¡¯s?¡±


    Starrgort had always been such an everyday sight that Claire didn¡¯t think anything of him until she noted her mother¡¯s reaction. And even then, it took a moment for everything to click, for her to realize that his very presence meant that there was something amiss.


    She immediately tried to squish him with a wave of vectors, but she was too late. Clapping his two front legs together, he crafted a forcefield that rendered her magic inert. Further evidencing his guilt was Aurora¡¯s return. She teleported directly behind him and struck with a heavy, two-handed axe.


    But Starrgort was unharmed.


    A rift had opened in the space above him.


    And from it, a glowing pink blade.